Ukraine’s Struggle: A Call to Arms for Democracy

Ukraine poses a significant challenge for Western nations, comparable in significance to the unification of Germany, with the European Union holding the key to the situation.

During my recent visit to Kyiv, my inaugural trip to Ukraine since the intrusion by Vladimir Putin in February 2022, I endeavored to engage in physical activity each morning by strolling around the premises of St. Michael’s Golden-Domed Monastery. Despite its tranquility, the ambiance was disturbed by a stark display of ruined Russian tanks and armored vehicles. While meandering amidst these jagged, missile-pierced remnants, I pondered the grim fate that befell the Russian soldiers who manned them.

However, the sight of this tangled heap of corroded metal, juxtaposed against the grandeur of the whitish-stone square, conjured a different imagery in my mind: that of a celestial body.

It appeared as though a colossal celestial body had descended from the cosmos, disrupting the fabric of life as we knew it — nearly eight decades devoid of a major conflict among “great powers” in Europe, a continent that had transitioned from centuries of invasions and conquests to a state of security and prosperity. Yet here we are, confronted with this unsightly mound amidst us, smoldering away, while both Ukrainians and the global community grapple with how to address this crisis.

Nearly every Ukrainian I conversed with in Kyiv seemed simultaneously wearied by the war and fervently committed to reclaiming every inch of their territory under Russian occupation — yet none possessed definitive solutions for the road ahead, the painful compromises that lie ahead, only a steadfast resolve that defeat would spell the demise of Ukraine’s democratic aspirations and the dismantling of the post-World War II era that had ushered in a Europe more unified and liberated than ever before in its history.

What Putin is orchestrating in Ukraine transcends recklessness; it embodies an act of profound malevolence. He has concocted a myriad of shifting justifications — one day citing the removal of a purported Nazi regime in Kyiv, the next purportedly thwarting NATO expansion, and then ostensibly resisting a Western cultural incursion into Russia — all to rationalize what essentially amounts to a capricious whim, now necessitating his superpower military to seek assistance from North Korea. It’s akin to the largest bank in town having to solicit a loan from the local pawnshop. Farewell to Putin’s boastful machismo.

What is truly abhorrent — beyond the casualties, anguish, trauma, and devastation he has inflicted upon countless Ukrainians — is that at a juncture when issues like climate change, famine, and public health crises are pressing concerns for our planet, the last thing humanity needed was to divert such considerable attention, collaborative effort, resources, and lives to address Putin’s endeavor to subjugate Ukraine once more under Russian dominion.

Of late, Putin has dispensed with even attempting to justify the war — perhaps because he recoils from articulating the nihilism that his actions exude: “If I cannot have Ukraine, I will ensure Ukrainians cannot have it either.”

“This is not a conflict in which the aggressor harbors some semblance of vision, some semblance of a plan. On the contrary, everything is shrouded in darkness, amorphous, and the sole guiding principle is sheer brute force,” remarked Timothy Snyder, the Yale historian, during a panel discussion we partook in at a conference in Kyiv last weekend.

My stay in the city has provided me with clarity on three fronts. Firstly, it has reinforced the profound sickness and upheaval wrought by this Russian incursion. Secondly, it has underscored the daunting, if not insurmountable, task facing Ukrainians in expelling Putin’s forces from every inch of their land.

Most significantly, it has enhanced my comprehension of a sentiment articulated nearly 30 years ago by former U.S. national security adviser Zbigniew Brzezinski: “Without Ukraine, Russia ceases to be an empire; yet with Ukraine subverted and subsequently subjugated, Russia automatically ascends to the status of an empire.”

While most Americans possess scant knowledge of Ukraine, I assert without hyperbole: that Ukraine is a transformative force for the West, for better or for worse, contingent upon the outcome of the conflict. Its accession to the European Union and NATO in the future could precipitate a seismic shift akin to the fall of the Berlin Wall and the reunification of Germany. Ukraine possesses formidable human capital, agricultural assets, and natural resources — “hands, brains, and grains,” as Western investors in Kyiv are wont to say. Its full integration into Europe’s democratic, security and economic framework would reverberate in Moscow and Beijing alike.

Putin recognizes this reality. His primary objective, in my estimation, has never been solely about countering NATO’s expansion; rather, it has always been about thwarting the prospect of a Slavic Ukraine aligning with the European Union and emerging as a successful antithesis to Putin’s autocratic regime. NATO expansion serves Putin’s interests — it affords him the pretext to militarize Russian society and position himself as the indispensable custodian of Russia’s might. Conversely, E.U. expansion into Ukraine poses an existential threat — it exposes Putinism as the source of Russia’s vulnerability. And the Ukrainians I encountered seemed acutely cognizant of the symbiotic relationship between themselves and Europe in this epochal struggle against Putinism — a struggle, however, that cannot culminate in success without the unwavering support of the United States. Hence, one of the most frequent — and anxious — inquiries I fielded during my sojourn revolved around variations of “Do you reckon Putin’s confidant Trump could secure a return to the presidency?”

One need only peer into the eyes of Ukrainian soldiers returning from the frontlines or engage in conversation with parents on the streets of Kyiv, to dispel any illusions regarding the moral dichotomy of this war. My stay in the country spanned a mere three days — significantly shorter than the tenure of my Times colleagues and other intrepid war correspondents who have borne witness to the strife and suffering. Yet, even during my brief interactions, the grim reality depicted in photos of bomb-ravaged cities and villages in Eastern Ukraine, and the harrowing accounts delineated in United Nations reports documenting atrocities perpetrated against children by invading Russians, came to life with stark clarity.

This conflict epitomizes a clash between right and wrong, between good and evil, unlike any witnessed in international relations since World War II.

Yet, the closer one approaches this conflict and contemplates avenues for resolution, the stark moral calculus offered by this dichotomy fails to furnish a straightforward roadmap to reconciliation.

The contours of a just resolution are unmistakable. It entails a Ukraine that is whole and free — with reparations exacted from Russia. However, the feasibility of such justice remains uncertain, as does the associated cost, or whether some unsavory compromise might emerge as the least undesirable option, and if so, what form that compromise might assume, how egregious it might be, and under what conditions and assurances it might be brokered.

In essence, once one transcends the framework

of justice and delves into the realm of realpolitik diplomacy, the once unequivocal picture metamorphoses into an array of nuanced shades of gray. For the adversary, endowed with power bereft of shame or conscience, proves exceedingly difficult to constrain. On Tuesday, Putin asserted, during an economic conference in Russia, that the 91 felony charges levied against Donald Trump across four different U.S. jurisdictions constitute “political persecution of a political rival driven by political motives” and emblemize “the corruption inherent in the American political system, which lacks the moral authority to impart lessons in democracy to others.” His pronouncement elicited resounding applause from a populace accustomed to witnessing poison-laced undergarments, exploding aircraft, and Siberian labor camps employed as tools to “impart lessons in democracy” to his adversaries.

The audacity displayed is staggering. And while his entreaty for military assistance from North Korea is pitiable, the readiness to seek such aid underscores his determination to prosecute this war until he secures a portion of Ukraine to tout as a face-saving triumph.

My journey to Kyiv coincided with the annual gathering of the Yalta European Strategy, organized in collaboration with the Victor Pinchuk Foundation. (Pinchuk, a Ukrainian entrepreneur, spearheads the foundation.) The inaugural address was delivered by Ukraine’s President, Volodymyr Zelensky, who contended from the outset that if we forsake considerations of justice and broker a Faustian pact with Putin, we will reap the whirlwind.

“Human morality must prevail in this conflict,” asserted Zelensky. “Every individual worldwide who values freedom, who cherishes human life, who believes in the triumph of humanity, must rally behind this cause. The success of Ukraine, indeed the triumph of humanity, hinges not only on Ukrainians themselves but also on the extent to which the vast moral fabric of the world is willing to preserve itself.”

However, securing justice in the crucible of war invariably demands the total defeat and subjugation of the aggressor. With Russia boasting a population more than threefold that of Ukraine, one cannot help but discern a blend of Zelensky’s defiance and a sense of weariness permeating the sentiments expressed by Ukrainian soldiers.

A panel comprising four male Ukrainian soldiers, one of whom was deprived of a forearm and another an eye, alongside a female soldier, was featured at the conference. All had served on the frontline. Dmytro Finashyn, an intelligence officer with the National Guard of Ukraine, who sported a black prosthetic instead of his left forearm, articulated the necessity of mitigating losses: “Our finest individuals are perishing, those who ought to shape Ukraine’s future. Hence, it is imperative to minimize our losses. The world must rally behind us, for we are not merely fighting for ourselves, but for global democracy.”

Alina Mykhailova, an officer with over a year’s experience in the field, grew visibly emotional during her address, mourning the loss of a revered commander. “We are sustaining significant casualties; there is no romanticism in battle and warfare. It is gritty, it is repugnant, it is brutal,” she lamented. “Every time you retire for the night, you must remind yourself of the plight of the soldiers on the frontline. What we witness at the forefront today is beyond the scope of television broadcasts.” She added, “Every one of us requires personal support; every soldier should be bolstered by support — be it from family, loved ones, or any individual who refuses to avert their gaze and comprehends the cause we are fighting for.”

To be clear, the Ukrainian army evinces an unwavering commitment to persevere — and any politician in this country, including Zelensky, who even remotely hints at territorial concessions will be swiftly ousted from office. Nevertheless, the arithmetic is cruel. Every volunteer who enlisted immediately post-invasion has been deployed to the frontline, necessitating the conscription of an ever-increasing number of Ukrainians. While many heed the call, a propensity to enlist in drone units over trench warfare infantry is evident, with an escalating trend toward attempts to evade or bribe one’s way out of conscription. This predicament prompted Zelensky to dismiss the entire top brass of regional military recruitment centers recently.

This brings us back to the celestial body analogy. No denizen of this modern European nation was prepared for their lives to be upended by an all-out conflict that, despite incessant threats from Russia, always seemed a remote possibility. One mother remarked to me that her social calendar now comprises sporadic dinners with friends, children’s birthday parties, “and funerals.” Such was not the envisaged trajectory.

A nation truly entrenched in war spawns its lexicon. When United24, a Ukrainian fundraising platform, solicits contributions to procure drones for the military, it employs the term “donation,” universally understood by the populace.

The concerns plaguing Ukrainians mirror those preoccupying officials in Washington: Kyiv’s offensive against Russian forces in the near term and Ukraine’s long-term security imperatives. I have long advocated for steadfast support from the U.S. for Ukraine’s defense efforts. My visit to Ukraine did not so much alter my stance as it underscored the imperative for both urgency and pragmatism.

Urgency dictates that Ukraine must inflict maximal damage on Putin’s forces as expeditiously as possible. This entails a massive and swift supply of the requisite weaponry to enable Ukraine to breach Putin’s lines in the southeastern region of the country. I advocate for a comprehensive approach: F-16s, mine-clearing equipment, additional Patriot antimissile systems, MGM-140 Army Tactical Missile Systems — whatever armament Ukraine can effectively deploy with alacrity.

Rust

em Umerov, in his maiden appearance as Ukraine’s new Defense Minister, implored the strategy conference: “Our army is currently one of the most formidable and motivated globally, owing to our unwavering resolve. However, we require more military hardware — today, tomorrow, immediately.”

The sooner Putin confronts the prospect of his forces’ collapse in Ukraine, the greater the likelihood of either his capitulation or readiness to negotiate a face-saving resolution — sooner, rather than later, and without gambling on Trump’s reelection as his lifeline.

However, one must harbor no illusions — any ceasefire or peace agreement will herald a new set of policy quandaries.

Should the war persist, mirroring its current trajectory through the ensuing winter, with a bloody stalemate engendered by Ukraine’s inability to breach the extensive minefields and trenches fortifying the crescent zone of Eastern Ukraine under Russian occupation, Zelensky might face mounting domestic pressure to engage in negotiations, compounded by vociferous entreaties from European allies. Meanwhile, Putin could exhaust his reservoir of pariah states, such as North Korea and Iran, from which to procure additional munitions.

While a formal or informal ceasefire remains conceivable, one immutable truth emerges: Ukraine will not countenance any enduring cessation of hostilities without the assurance of a NATO Article 5 security guarantee (or its equivalent from the U.S. and Europe). Such a guarantee would signal to weary Ukrainians, prospective foreign investors, and the millions of Ukrainian refugees abroad that the war is effectively over and that Putin cannot simply rearm and reinvade without facing the collective defense of Ukraine by the U.S. and Europe.

Oh, you didn’t anticipate that? That we could partake in Ukraine’s triumph, withdraw, and leave a humiliated Putin licking his wounds? Allow me to dispel any illusions: Absent Western security assurances for Ukraine, this war will not conclude.

Consequently, once diplomatic overtures ensue, “the twin pillars of the West — namely, the E.U. and NATO — which have drawn closer as a result of this conflict, must admit Ukraine into both NATO and the E.U.,” suggested European historian Timothy Garton Ash, author of the recently published “Homelands: A Personal History of Europe.” “A lasting, enduring peace necessitates Ukraine’s accession to NATO at the earliest opportunity and its integration into the E.U. in a phased manner.”

What if Putin elects to wage an eternal war in Ukraine and refuses to countenance a quiet border with Ukraine for NATO to safeguard? The answer eludes me. This is why I assert that we are poised on the precipice of wrenching geopolitical dilemmas.

Early Sunday morning, Russia unleashed nearly thirty drones on Kyiv. Air raid sirens reverberated in the distance — or so I am informed, as I slumbered through the entire episode. This prompted two of my Times colleagues in Kyiv, Andrew Kramer, and Marc Santora, to promptly introduce me to an iPhone application: Air Alarm Ukraine. Integrated with Ukraine’s air defense apparatus, the application emits a warning when an impending attack looms: “Attention. Air raid alert! Proceed to the nearest shelter!”

Yet, the voice emanating from the application is not Ukrainian. Rather, it is the baritone of Mark Hamill, renowned for his portrayal of Luke Skywalker in “Star Wars.”

“Don’t be careless,” Hamill cautions. “Your overconfidence is your weakness.”

The application also offers a Ukrainian-language setting, voiced by a female, although, according to an Associated Press report, some Ukrainians prefer Hamill’s rendition due to his concluding invocation: “The air alert is over. … May the Force be with you.”

I cite this for several reasons. Firstly, to underscore that Ukraine, akin to Israel, epitomizes a genuine “start-up nation” — a nation teeming with creativity and innovation, evident not only in inventive applications but also in indigenous drones and cruise missiles, in addition to its bountiful natural resources and agrarian prowess. Military experts attribute the sinking of the cruiser Moskva, the flagship of Putin’s Black Sea fleet, last year to Ukraine’s indigenous Neptune cruise missile, skimming perilously close to the waves.

According to Michał Kramarz, head of Google for Startups, Central and Eastern Europe, “Despite the ongoing conflict, Ukrainian start-ups generated over $6 billion in revenue in 2022 — $542 million more than in 2021 — and have tripled in valuation since 2020.” Ukraine routinely graduates 130,000 engineers annually — a figure surpassing that of Germany and France combined.

During my stay in Kyiv, I conversed with Brian Best, who oversees the investment banking division at Dragon Capital, an investment firm in Ukraine specializing in financing start-ups. In recent years, he noted, shifts in Ukraine’s relationship with the E.U. have facilitated the unrestricted travel of young Ukrainian technocrats to Western Europe. “They have returned imbued with novel business acumen,” he remarked. “The conflict has merely expedited this process.” Beyond military and cyber start-ups, Best highlighted the proliferation of European-style eateries in his residential precinct. “My street boasts three or four new restaurants, exuding a distinctly European ambiance. It is nothing short of a cultural renaissance.”

Furthermore, as per the European Commission, before the war, Ukraine accounted for 10 percent of the global wheat market, 15 percent of the corn market, and 13 percent of the barley market. Presently, it commands the most proficient standing army in Europe, second only to Russia’s, distinguished by its unparalleled expertise in next-generation drone warfare.

This nation exudes a gritty tenacity, particularly emblematic of its burgeoning youth cohort, which has come of age in post-Soviet Ukraine. Such resilience augurs well for Ukraine provided it emancipates itself from Putin’s stranglehold. I am partial to the perspective espoused by the esteemed Ukrainian poet and artist Serhiy Zhadan, articulated during the conference:

“Allow me to employ a metaphor in juxtaposing Ukrainian society with Russian society: Ukrainian society resembles a fledgling punk ensemble poised to captivate stadiums. And captivate them we shall. For us, this journey has just commenced; an inexhaustible reservoir of strength, energy, and strategic foresight propels us forward. In contrast, Russia epitomizes a world-weary, slightly antiquated cabaret crooner, bereft of audience and adulation, striving to perpetuate the illusion of success and glamour.”

In the early 1990s, I dissented from the notion of NATO expansion following the collapse of the Berlin Wall, advocating instead for the cultivation of a democratic Russia. I harbor no regrets for that stance. Yet, three decades later, with the prospect of a democratic Russia seeming increasingly remote, I would gladly leverage NATO and the E.U. to nurture and safeguard a democratic Ukraine.

For if Ukraine can extricate itself from this conflict — even if it entails temporary territorial concessions to Putin — and effectuate the requisite anti-corruption and regulatory reforms to qualify for E.U. membership, the intellectual, agricultural, and military potential that Ukraine embodies would serve as a beacon for Russians yearning for a different trajectory, not to mention the fragile Balkan states.

“What Ukraine is endeavoring to achieve possesses the potential for transformative regional impact — for all nations striving to consolidate democracy,” contended Anastasia Radina, 39, chair of the anti-corruption

bureau in Ukraine, and a former prosecuting attorney specializing in organized crime.

And so, as I conclude my musings on Ukraine — a nation besieged yet brimming with promise — I am reminded of an aphorism from the late Vaclav Havel: “Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something is worth doing, regardless of how it turns out.”

Indeed, Ukraine is worth defending — and it is incumbent upon Western nations to marshal all the resources at their disposal to ensure its triumph. For if Ukraine prevails, it will chart a course for a Europe more prosperous, secure, and liberated than ever before.