Saturday, February 26, 2022
Vladimir Putin, Russia’s resentful leader, takes the world to war
The continuing war against Liz Cheney
GOP humoring of Trump’s praise of Putin sinks to absurd new lows
GOP humoring of Trump’s praise of Putin sinks to absurd new lows
Greg Sargent — Read time: 4 minutes
The invasion of Ukraine has presented Republicans with a vexing conundrum. How can they express horror and condemnation — which no doubt are sincerely felt — over Vladimir Putin’s actions while avoiding taking a position on Donald Trump’s praise of the Russian leader, let alone on Trump’s long history of kowtowing to him?
The solutions Republicans have hatched to this problem usefully illuminate the range of acceptable opinion in the party, and the constraints on it, at a moment when many Republicans still see Trump as essential to the party’s future.
The Post has a remarkable new overview of quotes from Republicans about the situation. The story is essentially that Trump’s praise of Putin has left him isolated, now that many Republicans are condemning the invasion, even as Republicans avoid faulting Trump directly for this.
What’s also notable, however, is how Republicans are finding new sweet spots that allow them to condemn Putin while also vaguely retaining fidelity to the underlying worldview that Trump’s praise of Putin reflects.
On Feb. 22, White House press secretary Jen Psaki dismissed former president Donald Trump’s comments after he called Russia’s move on Ukraine “smart.” (The Washington Post)
Trump has publicly praised Putin’s moves as “smart” and “savvy” and as “genius,” and he has reportedly also lavished private praise on Putin. Before this, of course, Trump accepted Putin’s denial of Russian interference in the 2016 election, and wielded U.S. military aid as corrupt leverage against Ukraine even as it pleaded for help against Russian aggression.
Now that this aggression has become a horrifying reality, very few Republicans have condemned Trump for any of this. But even more notable is that, while they are condemning Putin, they’re also finding ways to cast this as somehow the Trumpist position.
Criticizing Putin while blaming Biden
One way Republicans are accomplishing this is to condemn Putin’s invasion while blaming Biden for it. Rep. Elise Stefanik (N.Y.), a member of the House GOP leadership, issued a statement ripping Putin as an “authoritarian dictator” but spent far more time attacking Biden’s “weakness.”
This is absurd. We can legitimately debate how sanctions should have been imposed, but given all we’ve seen, no one can seriously pretend earlier sanctions would have likely dissuaded the invasion. And as Damon Linker notes, Putin didn’t invade Ukraine before almost surely because Trump was also committed to Putin’s goal of weakening NATO.
But here’s the key point: Blaming Biden’s weakness also obscures Trump’s alignment with Putin on the bigger question of whether Ukrainian sovereignty and the international order should be defended in the face of Putin’s threats to it. Republicans are erasing what Trump got spectacularly wrong and replacing it with an account in which Trump was and remains eternally strong, which is faithful to Trumpism at its most base level.
Criticizing Putin with Trumpist tropes
Meanwhile, other Republicans are condemning Putin while obscuring the situation with a fog of Trumpist tropes.
Take J.D. Vance, the “Hillbilly Elegy” author and GOP Senate candidate in Ohio. After claiming not to care about Ukraine’s fate, he abruptly issued a new statement admitting the invasion is a tragedy but blaming “elites” and “globalists” for the problem, insisting those taking action to defend Ukraine secretly want to drag the United States into armed conflict.
Here again, there’s a legitimate historical debate over whether NATO expanded too far in a way that aggrieved Russia. But Vance deep-sixes nuance: NATO’s successes in maintaining decades of relative peace and security for hundreds of millions of people are entirely erased.
Vance now dismisses the worth of sanctions against Putin. And he bizarrely claims the only “solution” to “tyranny abroad” is a strongly nationalist America — but how this would have stopped Putin is unexplained.
You see, internationalist commitments cannot simply be admittedly insufficient in a situation where armed aggression by a nuke-possessing madman leaves no good options. These commitments must have no value whatsoever and can reflect only corrupt elite plotting, and the only answer can be maximal withdraw from them. What that withdrawal is supposed to be an answer to remains unstated.
But Vance manages to condemn Putin while remaining faithful to Trumpist nationalist tropes, without admitting how aligned they — and Trump himself — are with Putin’s own worldview and goals.
Meanwhile, one of Vance’s primary opponents, former Ohio state GOP chair Jane Timken, condemns Putin’s aggression. But she also insists the true version of “America First” entails taking aggressive non-military steps against Putin, because this will “protect American security interests at home and abroad.”
It is in our interests, and in the interests of the West and liberal democracy, to defend Ukraine through sanctions and other measures. But in the real world, this has nothing in common with Trump’s vision of “America First,” which has long been all about weakening the Atlantic alliance. Magically, the alignment of “America First” Trumpism with Putin’s interests is simply erased.
Here’s the bottom line. Many Republicans are legitimately horrified by Putin’s invasion and do support action against it. What they cannot do is hold this position while also admitting that Trump consistently sided with Putin against Ukraine; that Trump’s efforts to weaken our international commitments are largely aligned with Putin and against the interests of the West; and that we’re now witnessing the awful truth about the threat that Trump consistently downplayed.
Putin is breaking 70 years of norms by invading Ukraine. What comes next?
Putin is breaking 70 years of norms by invading Ukraine. What comes next?
Tanisha M. Fazal — Read time: 5 minutes
Up until now, Russia tried to look like it was playing by the rules.
Members of a Ukrainian territorial defense battalion set up a machine gun on Feb. 25, in Kyiv. (Anastasia Vlasova/Getty Images)
Russia’s invasion of Ukraine is shocking because it is so unusual for one country to so brazenly attack another’s political independence and territorial sovereignty today. A norm against territorial conquest — especially, against the wholesale erasure of countries from the world map — has conditioned international relations since the end of World War II.
Russia’s behavior raises the question: Are we witnessing the demise of that norm?
Not necessarily — but maybe.
Countries used to conquer other countries frequently
Conquest of land, including of entire countries, used to be relatively common. As I show in my book, “State Death,” buffer countries — traditionally, countries that lie between two countries that are rivals — were especially vulnerable to conquest. Often, great powers on either side of buffer states did not trust each other not to take over the buffers between them.
Poland, carved up multiple times by more-powerful neighbors, provides a clear illustration of this dynamic. But buffer states around the globe — from Korea (in 1905) to Estonia (in 1940) — died by conquest. Ukraine lies in a similarly vulnerable position, sandwiched between NATO member countries and Russia.
Beginning in the early 20th century and, certainly, after World War II, however, a norm against such territorial conquest emerged. Promoted especially by the United States, but with support around the world, this principle is most clearly enshrined in Article 2(4) of the U.N. Charter: “All members shall refrain in their international relations from the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any State.”
After 1945, the violent death rate of states declined so dramatically that it virtually ceased. The norm against conquering another country is one of many factors, including the advent of nuclear weapons and increased global trade, that contributed to “the long peace” after World War II.
Countries turned to different ways to control other governments
One consequence of the emergence of the norm against conquest was a shift in the way countries exercised political control over other countries.
The norm did not magically reverse the incentives of countries that might have taken over buffer states in previous eras. But it did change how they tried to control buffer territory. Such countries sought to achieve the same political aims via different means. Thus, we saw a rise in foreign-imposed regime and leader changes of buffer countries after 1945, such as when the Soviet Union invaded Hungary in 1956.
What does this broader history tell us about Ukraine today? If Putin’s aim is limited to overthrowing and replacing Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky with a pro-Russian leader, the consequences for the survivability of the norm against conquest also would be limited. As scholars such as Kimberly Howe, Roxani Krystalli and co-authors have shown in the context of Syria, however, the consequences for Ukrainians would be severe. What is more, the costs to Russia are likely to be extremely high; invaders rarely accurately assess the costs of occupation.
Until now, Russia tried to appear to be playing by the rules
International relations scholars know more about the rise than the decline of norms. But chipping away at the norm by swallowing up pieces of Ukrainian territory one chunk at a time may prove an especially effective strategy to undermine the norm.
Even as the Kremlin flouts norms and breaks international law, until now even Russia seems to have acknowledged the need to at least look as if it respected international law. In 2014, Russia tried to obscure its role in the annexation of Crimea by using “little green men” rather than sending in clearly marked Russian troops, as it has done in 2022. Similarly, there was the pretext of the Crimean “declaration of independence” and subsequent deployment of a self-determination justification for Crimea’s becoming part of Russia. Likewise, by recognizing Donetsk and Luhansk, Russia is setting itself up to use a (sham) vote to justify irredentism — claiming these territories based on historical and ethnic ties.
In other words, Russia could have taken Crimea, Donetsk and Luhansk without giving any justification. While the justifications are flimsy and unconvincing, there’s a reason Russia took pains to provide them, as Villanova political science professor Jennifer Dixon shows. Putin is trying to manipulate existing norms for his own ends. His search for a pretext for invasion in the last week — and the efforts of the United States, its allies and Ukraine itself to deny him one — only reinforce this point.
This time may be different
In the end, however, Putin launched the current war by rewriting history and accusing Ukraine of aggression it didn’t commit. As bombs fall on Ukrainian cities, is his end goal the Russian annexation of all of Ukraine? Putin’s Feb. 21 speech suggests regret and nostalgia for the territorial boundaries of the Soviet empire. The response to a Russian effort to change the map of Europe in this way leads to at least two possible outcomes for the norm against conquest.
A strong global response to such an annexation attempt would be a signal of the norm’s strength. The strength of norms that proscribe behavior is most visibly gauged when those norms come under a direct challenge. For example, when Iraq invaded Kuwait in 1990 (using a similar justification to the one that Putin seems to be proposing), the large military coalition that responded reinforced the norm against conquest.
If, however, the world accepts a wholesale annexation of Ukraine, with little effective response — if Ukraine were to be erased from Europe’s map — the norm against conquest would be severely, perhaps even fatally, damaged.
Historically, most wars between countries have been fought over territory. The norm against territorial conquest was meant to decrease the incidence of this type of war. The risk of overturning the norm is a return to a world of conquest and violent state death.
Tanisha M. Fazal is a professor of political science at the University of Minnesota and a 2021 Andrew Carnegie Fellow. Find her on Twitter at @tanishafazal.
In words and deeds, Putin shows he’s rejecting even Soviet-era borders
In words and deeds, Putin shows he’s rejecting even Soviet-era borders
Daniel Treisman — Read time: 5 minutes
His speech this week makes it clear he’s out to restore “historic Russia”
President Vladimir Putin’s emotional speech on Monday justifying Russia’s invasion of Ukraine was eye-opening in many ways. Among other things, it cast new light on the Russian president’s complicated and evolving relationship with the Soviet past.
Even before this week’s attack, Putin’s use of troops abroad — in Georgia, Moldova and Ukraine — has been taken by some as evidence of a desire to rebuild the Soviet Union. U.K. Foreign Secretary Liz Truss and Sens. Mitt Romney (R-Utah) and Ted Cruz (R-Tex.), among others, have suggested this interpretation. So did President Biden in his Thursday comments announcing further sanctions.
And Putin’s own words have at times supported this interpretation — in 2005, for instance, he called the collapse of the USSR “a major geopolitical disaster of the [20th] century.”
In fact, what Monday’s speech reveals isn’t nostalgia for the Soviet state but Putin’s fury at the incompetence of early communist leaders who built it on such rickety foundations. In his current view, Vladimir Lenin and associates tore apart what Putin thinks of as “historic Russia” — and he is not about to forgive or forget.
Putin blames Russia’s Bolsheviks
In his hour-long tirade, Putin seemed at times more angry at the Bolsheviks who created the Soviet Union than at modern-day Western leaders.
Lenin, in his telling, pandered to nationalists, split up historically Russian territories and planted a land mine in the Soviet constitution by giving each Soviet republic the right to secede. Lenin, he continued, built “odious and utopian fantasies” that were “absolutely destructive” into the architecture of the state.
The Bolsheviks’ approach was “not just a mistake but much worse than a mistake.” According to Putin, their “injustices, lies and outright pillage” led directly to the 1991 Soviet collapse that scattered enclaves of ethnic Russians across now-independent countries.
Offering to help “decommunize” Ukraine, Putin made clear that the restructuring he had in mind would leave little of the country intact.
Of course, Putin’s logic here is flawed. Ukraine’s secession had nothing to do with Lenin’s secession clause. The Ukrainian independence declaration in 1991 made no mention of the Soviet constitution, which by that point had been discredited. Instead, Ukraine cited the right to self-determination in the U.N. Charter.
But that’s not the point. The real surprise in Monday’s speech is the abuse Putin heaps on communist icons and the Soviet historical record. Even the extended essay he published last summer, which in many ways prefigured this week’s speech, did not achieve the same intensity of anti-Bolshevik vitriol.
What made Putin so anti-communist?
Putin has been falling out of love with Soviet communism for a long time. The story of this disenchantment is important for what it says about the Russian president’s current motives.
As a spy in Dresden in the 1980s, Putin already saw himself as a technocratic specialist for whom too much ideology got in the way. “For us professionals,” he once told his political adviser Gleb Pavlovsky, “it hindered our work.”
As the Berlin Wall collapsed, Putin was shocked by the Soviet superpower’s inability to defend itself. Angry crowds surrounded the KGB outpost in Dresden and Putin requested reinforcements. But, as he later recalled, “Moscow was silent.” To Putin, this was a stunning betrayal of the Soviet state by its communist leaders.
Still, he remained at least ambivalent. As president, 10 years later, he was solicitous of the many communists who were nostalgic for Soviet greatness. To the horror of liberals then supporting him, he restored the rousing Soviet-era music of the national anthem. New in power, he even drank a toast to Stalin with Communist Party leader Gennady Zyuganov.
In part, this was electoral calculation — Putin still needed the backing of left-leaning older Russians. But in 2003, the Kremlin’s political operatives crushed the Communist Party as a political force and stole many of its voters by denouncing the party’s financial ties to billionaire oil tycoon Mikhail Khodorkovsky. Putin prosecuted him for tax fraud, and the Kremlin co-opted the party.
Still, Putin rarely spoke negatively about communism. In 2016, he confessed, “I really liked and still like communist and socialist ideas,” and claimed to have kept his old party card.
That Putin has complicated feelings about Russia’s past is hardly accidental. His father, a war veteran, was a loyal communist. His mother, a devout Russian Orthodox believer, secretly had the future president baptized. He grew up between two ideals.
At heart, Putin has always been a conservative, with a horror of revolutions — who was unlucky enough to grow up in a society that was forged by one. But by the Brezhnev era, when Putin came of age, the Bolshevik Revolution had crystallized into a tradition. Rather than images of anarchic street fighting, the 1917 revolution evoked ritualistic parades and collective celebrations. Paradoxically, Putin seems to have accepted the communist coloration of the Soviet past — out of conservatism.
At least, so it seemed. But a competing idea has been building for some time. Already at the Bucharest Summit in 2008, which Putin attended as a guest of NATO, he called Ukraine a “very complicated state” that had been patched together, in part, from territories taken from Russia. At that point, he seemed to recognize Ukraine’s borders as a fait accompli.
But in subsequent years, this grievance came back in ever more elaborate forms. And now a new identity has burst through. Putin no longer accepts the compromises of the Soviet past. His recent words and actions suggest he has become a radical nationalist, out to reshape borders and forge a single people out of Russians, Belarusians and Ukrainians, despite the human costs of war.
Pre-1917 “historic Russia” included a range of territories beyond just Ukraine, some of which — like Kazakhstan, the Baltic states and Moldova — have ethnic Russian minorities. If Putin stays true to the convictions he embraced in his speech on Monday, the door he has opened may prove hard for the world to close.