Russia's invasion of Ukraine is bigger than Putin's personal ambitions
Recent Russo-Ukrainian tensions have captured headlines for months, but now Putin has declared military action. Understanding how things got this far is important.
The 24th of February marked the beginning of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. As of the end of the 25th February, President Zelenskyy has said that 137 civilians and military personnel had been killed, and 316 wounded. The build up of this conflict has not been sudden, and Russo-Ukrainian relations have been particularly centre-stage in recent years after former pro-Russian Ukrainian President, Viktor Yanukovych, rejected a deal calling for greater integration with the European Union in 2013. The following mass protests and their violent suppression by Yanukovych reached its climax when Russia successfully annexed Crimea to regain its lost influence in the region. Ever since, pro-Russian separatists in Ukraine have increasingly called for the integration of their country into Putin’s state. But such motivation is complicated and involves delving into Ukraine’s former membership of the Soviet Union, and cross-border relations since the Treaty of Pereyaslav in 1654.
A brief history of Russo-Ukrainian relations
Putin’s purported motivation behind invading Ukraine was to “recognise the independence and sovereignty of the Donetsk People’s Republic (DNR) and the Luhansk People’s Republic (LPR).” Such regions are dominated by pro-Russian separatists who wish to be integrated into Russia. The recognition of such pseudo-states would hypothetically mean they could be politically aggressive to Ukraine but not necessarily lead to a full-scale war. Whilst this was the situation a few weeks ago, Putin has now decided to launch an attack on the entirety of Ukraine, with airstrikes on Kyiv.
To understand the motivations behind the DNR and LPR, we have to go back in time to 1654. The Pereyaslav treaty agreed a pledge of allegiance by the Cossacks in the central Ukrainian town of Pereiaslav to the Tsar of Russia, formerly controlled by the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. It catalysed the Thirteen Years’ War between Russia and Poland which ended in the Treaty of Andrusovo in 1667. The Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth ceded the fortress of Smolensk in now western Russia, and the left bank of the Dnieper River in northern Ukraine, inclusive of Kiev. Military success aside, the reason Russia was so successful in taking the eastern region of Ukraine in the seventeenth century was due to a shared heritage from the Ancient Rus. The tenth century polity used the Byzantine Church to unite tribes and clans of different ethnicities. Fast forward to the eighteenth century, where the Russian Empire considered Ukrainians to be ethnically Russian, and you can see how pro-Russian separatists have not synthesised their ideas in isolation.
Ukrainian nationalists who opposed the Russification policies pursued particularly zealously by Alexander III and Nicholas II had a small influence until the end of the First World War. It is here where Russo-Ukrainian relations become increasingly antagonistic. The fall of Tsarist Russia in 1917 and its replacement with the Bolsheviks turned Ukraine into a battlefield in the Ukrainian War of Independence from 1917-1921. As such, the self-proclaimed Ukrainian People’s Republic only lasted from 1917-1922. By the end of this war, Ukraine was one of the founding members of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics that only terminated in 1991.
But, contrary to many analysts who pinpoint the origins of the Ukrainian conflict in the annexation of Crimea in 2014, Khrushchev’s policies in the 1950s laid the foundations. When Stalin died in 1953, a contest for Soviet leadership was sparked. Khrushchev was not always the frontrunner. He was fighting against an equally respected candidate, Georgii Malenkov, who led the USSR for a brief period after Stalin. So, by 1954, Khrushchev was looking to line up additional support to hold on to the CPSU Presidium to topple Malenkov. He hoped to enlist Oleksiy Kyrychenko, who became first secretary of the Communist Party in Ukraine in 1953. So, to gain elite support in the Republic, Khrushchev transferred the power of Crimea back to Ukraine in 1954 after Russia took it from the Ottoman Empire in 1783. The transfer was claimed to be a natural outgrowth of the “territorial proximity of Crimea to Ukraine, the commonalities of their economies, and the close agricultural and cultural ties between the Crimean oblast and the UkrSSR.” It was importantly claimed as a celebration of the 300th anniversary of the Treaty of Peryalsav.
Rather than handing back power to Ukraine, Krushchev wanted to use the 1940s tactic of settling Russian inhabitants into newly annexed Baltic republics to assert ethnic Russian control there. The number of Russians the transfer of Crimea brought into Ukraine meant such a region bolstered Soviet control. Ukraine has therefore long been used in political machinations to alter the geo-ethnic landscape of countries under the control of Russian elites, be that in the Russian Empire or the Soviet Union. It has resulted in a country with complex ethno-political motivations amongst its inhabitants.
The evolution of Putin’s narrative
In December 2021, Putin articulated his disillusionment. He told reporters that “we have to keep an eye on what is happening in Ukraine and when they might attack.” The idea that Russia is defending against a threat has crystallised since 17 December, when Putin demanded security guarantees from the United States and its allies that they would stop NATO expansion and military activity in Eastern Europe, the Caucasus and Central Asia. In late January of this year, threats intensified in the Moscow Conference. But in the most recent days, Putin has decided to act, expressing his same desire for effective expansion that he demonstrated in the 2014 annexation of Crimea.
His speeches on Monday 21 and Thursday 24 February show an escalation of his narrative in what is now a more concerning attack on world politics. On Monday, he sustained his argument that “modern Ukraine was entirely created by Russia or, to be more precise, by Bolshevik, Communist Russia.” He has said in 2008 that “Ukraine is not even a state” to justify his attacks on the “virus of nationalist ambitions.” He does not seem to recognise that his attack on Ukrainian authorities who have tried to “distort the mentality and historical memory of millions of people” is, in fact, hypocritical. He himself is distorting the historical memory of millions. Putin argued that the slow elevation of the Ukrainian language since 2004 is a concerted anti-Russian campaign not only levied by Ukraine, but by the West also. Apparently, he has found “factual proof” that terrorist attacks and the activation of “extremist cells” have been carried out with support from “Western security services.”
The duty to defend the narrative is pushed further by characterising Ukrainian policies against Russian-speaking populations as “genocide.” As such, on 24 February, Putin called for a “denazification” of its neighbour. He argued the “special military operation” is to “protect people who have been subjected to bullying and genocide.” Claiming in 2016 that America, under Trump’s leadership, was the world’s “only superpower,” he now targets America’s “Empire of Lies.” Putin even asserted a veiled nuclear threat, saying “there should be no doubt that any potential aggressor will face defeat and ominous consequences.”
Many have tried to understand Putin’s specific fascination with Ukraine. Some have crassly suggested that his intense Covid isolation has rendered him desperate and others believe that he has, with certainty, “lost his marbles”. But Fiona Hill’s assessment, along with analysts who emphasise Putin’s personal motivations, seem to explain why he is going ahead with his Ukrainian invasion despite the economic and mortal costs. Hill suggests all of this is “about him personally – his legacy, his view of himself, his view of Russian history.” He has always seen himself as the ‘protagonist’ and Ukraine as the ‘outlier.’ His “denazification” claims support the idea that he is living in his own “narrative of history.”
In addition, the popularity of Putin has always rested on the myth of his “populist” status amongst Russian people, due to his purported desire to aid the poorest. Alexei Navalny, a new populist leader on the Russian political scene, may have shaken up this rationale, particularly when viewing the difference between the reception of the 2014 annexation of Crimea and the 2022 invasion of Ukraine. The latter has caused outrage, whilst the former was met with jubilation. Putin’s involvement in Syria in 2015 did not receive much domestic opposition at first, but by 2019, according to an independent pollster in Levada Center, 55% of respondents said Russia should end its military operation there. Others are concerned the Russian nation will be embarrassed yet again as they were in Afghanistan throughout the 1980s. I would suggest that the increased frequency of oppositional protests over the 2010s may have caused Putin to fear he has lost some popularity in Russia. As such, the Guardian reporter Simon Tisdall suggests Putin might be invading Ukraine as a “political ploy designed for a Russian audience.”
Regardless, Putin’s evocation of language such as genocide, denazification and “duty to defend” seems to be a conscious effort to place himself in his own narrative of history. Putin's previous comments about Ukraine, his lack of appreciation for its history, and attempts to use it for his own political gain, clearly suggest this narcissistic narrative. We ought to be careful not to characterise the Ukrainian conflict as solely a manifestation of Putin’s political ambitions, however. He has capitalised on the history of a nation that has long been used as a pawn for geo-political machinations.
Why is this important for us?
As mentioned, the failed talks with NATO have led Putin to believe he had “no other alternative” other than to engage in this military operation. Some might blame western leaders for such a breakdown in talks, whilst others may suggest Putin had planned the invasion from the start of negotiations. While it is important to remember the complex history of Russo-Ukrainian relations, it is also pertinent to recognise the role the West has in the coming weeks.
Prime Minister Johnson and President Biden both have significant roles to play in the media when informing their publics about the conflict. Sympathies have been evoked for the Ukrainian public in a war that is so terrible. Innocent people have been, and will be, killed. Families of those fighting will lose their loved ones. Biden’s speech on the 25 November situated Russia’s actions as a “flagrant violation of international law” and rejected good faith efforts from NATO to “avert human suffering.” Whilst they are placing sanctions on Putin, what does it mean to promise “freedom will prevail” to a nation that has been used as a political pawn for much of its existence, mostly due to its aggressive neighbour?
It’s hard to know what will happen from here, but we must be aware that this is more complicated than an ideological warfare between freedom and suppression. We must offer solidarity and support while realising this conflict has not been without its past and future tragedies.