Dangerous peace proposals for Ukraine
The "best chance" and the risk of recurring war
As the war in Ukraine has dragged on, a cohort of individuals and organizations have advanced proposals that would end the conflict contingent upon Ukrainian “neutrality.” In exchange, Russia would end its assault on Ukraine and commit to respect Ukrainian sovereignty.
These proposals invariably adopt some (or all) elements of the Istanbul communiqué.
Issued on March 29, 2022, the communiqué committed Ukraine to permanent neutrality, to non-nuclear status, to remaining out of NATO, but permits Ukraine to enter the EU. To prevent the recurrence of conflict, the proposal seeks to guarantee Ukrainian security by including all five permanent members of the UN Security Council and Canada, Germany, Israel, Italy, Poland, and Turkey.
This proposal, to which Ukraine remains committed, has been criticized in several ways.
First, it ignores the wolf in the henhouse problem. By including Russia in any security arrangement seeking to ensure Ukraine’s sovereignty, the proposed treaty ensures continual interference by Russia in Ukrainian affairs and, counterintuitively, undermines Ukrainian sovereignty. As many experts have pointed out, proponents of the treaty must have a certain historical amnesia to ignore that Russia cannot be trusted to remain an honest broker of the peace:
There are lots of ways Russia could monkey wrench the “peace” given the collective action problems of the UNSC and the stated position by US, UK, and NATO leaders that there is no situation in which they would actively confront Russia.
But let’s be even clearer: the sole threat to Ukrainian security comes from Russia. A security treaty that includes Russia to protect against…Russia is a heck of a leap of logic.
Second, the proposed treaty does not, as currently configured, apply to territories currently occupied by Russia. As such, the Crimea and most of the Donbass and Luhansk would effectively be ceded to Russia, either as part of Russia proper or as vassal states that serve as buffers between Russia and Ukraine. Implying suzerainty for Donbass and Luhansk, the treaty would involve a massive concession by Ukraine and would constitute a massive “win” for Russia and Putin. To date, Ukraine has stressed that there will be no territorial concessions so it’s unclear if this proposal is even feasible given Russian gains in the East.
Third, the proposals ignore Russia’s stated goals of seizing as much of Ukraine as possible:
It’s important to recall that Russia based its assault on Ukraine by arguing that the country does not really exist, that it is an artificial creation. The consistency of this rhetorical principle running through Putin’s discourse (and that of his surrogates) suggests that Russia’s “security concerns” were fables told to appeal to Western analysts, rather than legitimate concerns. If “security” isn’t a “true” motivation, then how would a “security” treaty contain Russian interests in Ukraine?
The answer to that question likely requires delving deeper into the linguistic (natch rhetorical) facets of Russian security discourse. I would like to draw attention to two things.
First, these proposals assume that because Russia uses the same terminology as the “West,” Russia understands this language in the same way. Keir Giles, in his book Moscow Rules, explained this terminological challenge causes “confusion” because the meaning of terms like “president, parliament, and elections” differ from that of “a Western context.” In his rendering, Western analysts over rely on the views of Russian liberals as “sources of information about Russia.” This leads to a phenomenon he calls “mirroring” or “assuming that Russians see the world in the same way and with the same points of reference and historical and conceptual frameworks as Westerners do.”
This certainly appears to be the case with Samuel Charap’s Foreign Affairs essay. Throughout, he relies on historical analogies comparing the current situation to that of the recognition of Belgium as a sovereign state, a process begun in 1830 that involved the “Concert of Europe” and resulted in Belgium becoming a neutral state. For Charap, the Belgium case demonstrates how multiple nations can guarantee the security of a sovereign state, up to and including defending them from aggressors, even if those aggressors are signatories to the security treaty, as was the case when Germany invaded Belgium in 1914, sparking World War I. He considers this a “success” because Belgium “enjoyed” sovereignty for 75 years.
I won’t debate the case here. Rather, I want to return to the more fundamental issue. Germany and Belgium and the UK are European states with a collective European history and heritage. Russia is not. Giles’ argues that any analysis that begins from the position that Russia will behave as European states behave is fundamentally, terminally flawed. Russia is unique as a state that is neither European nor Asian but has, for much of its history, oscillated between admiring and “despis[ing]” Europe. Regardless of where Russia currently sits on that oscillation, Europe has served as the ultimate measuring stick by which Russia constitutes its unique from of exceptionalism. This creates, according to Giles, incentives for Russia to “aspire to and then reject the West,” a cycle that played out with Yeltsin and Putin.
As a result, Russia has what one might call a “perpetual crisis of security,” or, as Giles put is, “status anxiety,” not related to material conditions or borders, but identity and, specifically, how Russia stacks up against Europe and the US. This crisis of identity means Russia seeks “respect” from the West in great degree. But, again, “respect” means something different for Russia. Again, Giles explains:
“Russia equates respect with fear, and expression of respect by other nations with ensuring that Russia is consulted – and deferred to – on all major aspects of international affairs. Failure to display this deference prompts another reaction from Russia, one that is more dangerous than simple rejection of the west: it fosters the instinct to insist on Russia’s own perceived status as a great power, and to seek to assert this status in confrontation with the West.”
Much of the criticism of the Istanbul communiqué, as indicated previously, implies that Russia cannot be trusted because of its imperial history and present. Giles helps explain why. He also exposes something fundamental about arguments by analogy. As Marijke Breuning demonstrated two decades ago, historical analogies offer generalized representations to justify solutions to problems and override objections based on the force of history. As I have previously written, this type of reasoning “builds upon pre-existing modes of engaging the world,” and appear persuasive because they focus analytical attention on the past and not the present. In the present situation, arguments defending the Istanbul communiqué rely on historical analogies drawn from Europe that tell us much more about Europe than they do about Russia. Ukrainian leaders should be extremely wary of these arguments given cultural, historical, and situational differences between 19th century Europe and 21st century Russia.
A second fundamental issue rests in the terminology of “neutrality” itself. Oxford Languages defines neutrality as, “the state of not supporting or helping either side in a conflict.” At a definitional level, then, having Ukraine declare permanent neutrality implies there are two sides – enemies – who are directed at each other and engaged in a series of antagonisms, who are in conflict. Adopting this frame advances and entrenches Putin’s security logic – that NATO can only be seen as an aggressive, anti-Russian force. This logic is Schmittian in orientation because it envisions the world as fundamentally antagonistic (and antagonism between states as fundamental to the national identity of the members of those states). It is the same logic that underwrites both Putin’s claim to power and his justification for invading Ukraine. Even the language “non-aligned state” echoes this security thinking.
I raise this issue because President Zelenskyy has been very good about clarifying that the Russian people are not the enemy, and that Ukraine seeks no conflict with Russia. To declare “neutrality” undermines that message. The Biden administration and European leaders should follow Zelenskyy’s lead on this. Rather than think in terms of “sides” and the mental partition of the land that enemy thinking inscribes, political leaders should insist that Russia has a stake in a peaceful and stable Europe and that the “West” wants and needs Russia back at the table. This is a difficult ask given the barbarism of the war. But it is inevitable. Nations make peace even after the barbaric practices of war.
And what of the Istanbul communiqué? Ukraine should keep diplomatic channels open but it would be a mistake to rely on a document from the end of March given the developments of the war. Beyond the above criticism, Russia appears to have deported (kidnapped) 200,000 Ukrainian children. Those children need to be returned. There are more significant territorial issues to be discussed in Eastern Ukraine and along the Black Sea, especially the issue of grain shipments, which Russia has blocked. And more. The Istanbul communiqué is ill equipped to address those issues. For better or worse, end-of-war negotiations need to start over with an entirely new framework. Because a false peace is no peace and Ukraine knows that all too well already.