Nearly two and a half years after Russia launched its “special military operation” against Ukraine, there appears to have been little consideration of how the conflict might realistically end. Both sides now claim that their goal is “victory.”
For President Volodymyr Zelensky, this means the return of all Russian-occupied territories, including Crimea, to Ukraine and membership in NATO.
For President Vladimir Putin, a victory would mean Russia could keep the territory it seized from its neighbors and would mean Ukraine not only refraining from joining NATO but also acknowledging that it is part of Russia's sphere of influence.
In other words, as of today, each party is demanding the unconditional surrender of the other. Given current circumstances, these conditions are unlikely to be met, and if recent history is any guide, they probably never will be met.
World War II was the last major war that ended with the complete defeat of one of the opposing sides, the Axis powers represented by Japan and Germany. Every war since, from the Korean War to the Vietnam War to the Iran-Iraq War, has ended with negotiations, compromise (even if only temporarily), or a return to the status quo ante.
And in both cases, Iraq and Afghanistan, where the invading forces were initially successful, they proved unable to consolidate control over their enemies.
So, regardless of the official statements made by all parties to the Ukrainian conflict, we can realistically assume that the outcome will be some sort of “coexistence” even if it takes the form of an open-ended, protracted, low-intensity conflict. But whatever the outcome, there are some realities that cannot be ignored.
In demographic terms, Russia's population is currently estimated at 144 million people. If you combine the populations of Germany, Poland and France, the total is 192 million, and if you add Ukraine, the total reaches 259 million.
From an economic perspective, Russia's situation is not much better either: Currently, Russia's annual GDP per capita averages about $15,200, compared with $48,700 in Germany, $39,000 in France and $18,500 in Poland.
Putin thus entered Ukraine from a position of relative weakness, both demographically and economically, a deficiency that was further accentuated by Russia's military record.
On February 27, 2022, a Russian armored convoy headed straight for Kiev with the aim of installing a pro-Russian government in the Ukrainian capital. It was meant to be a lightning strike lasting no more than 48 hours. But for Russia, it turned into an utter disaster.
Not only did the Ukrainian military put up an unexpected resistance to the Russian forces, but the Russian military, supposedly reformed and reorganized under President Putin, proved incapable of taking control of the Ukrainian capital, further invigorating the resistance that President Zelenskyy embodied literally overnight.
President Putin's actions against Ukraine, which followed Russia's occupation of the Crimean Peninsula, have had a devastating effect on the entire question of international relations as it has been considered since the end of World War II.
To be sure, this is not the first time that a state without international recognition has invaded another country, so in principle there is little difference between Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and the US invasion of Iraq.
Similarly, India's annexation of Sikkim in April 1973 and the subsequent “plebiscite” could have caused a stir but never did. After all, Sikkim was irrelevant and the US invasion of Iraq was merely a sideshow.
But Ukraine is in the heart of Europe. It is one of the world's leading grain producers and shares borders with Poland, Slovakia, Hungary and Romania. So, from a geopolitical perspective, a Russian-controlled Ukraine could pose a threat to Western Europe. But for this to happen, Ukraine must remain firmly in Russian hands. The problem for Putin is not just to impose hegemony on Ukraine, but to maintain it once imposed.
It can be assumed that, with the exception of the Russian-speaking Donbass region and the Crimean peninsula, the rest of Ukraine would not welcome coming under Russian control. The number of troops Putin would need to maintain control over occupied Ukraine is up for debate, but if history is any indication, it is not in his favor.
When Germany occupied parts of France in 1940, it needed about 350,000 German soldiers to control some 25 million French people. This ratio takes into account the fact that, at the grassroots level, the country was still effectively run by French authorities.
Thus, the post office, railways, schools, road systems, courts, etc. continued to exist as before, and almost all of the 72,500 Jews deported to the death camps were arrested by French police acting not for the Germans but for the occupying forces.
For reference, keeping in mind the size of France's population relative to the number of occupying Germans, and assuming that Ukrainians are less fervent in their resistance to Russian occupation than their French counterparts, Putin would need at least a million troops, possibly more, to impose his control over occupied Ukraine.
The fact that he doesn't have these figures raises another question: Would a hostile, occupied Ukraine pose a greater challenge to Putin's vision for Russia in the long term than its current predicament?
On paper, there were two ways to negate Putin's ambitions to impose hegemony on Ukraine.
The first was to allow him to have his way, while thwarting his dream of rebuilding the Russian Empire on the Stalinist model through burdens imposed from within Russia.
But not only would this require a long-term strategy for which the West is not prepared, but above all it would have required the Ukrainians to give in. This may have happened some 20 years ago, but the resurgence of Ukrainian nationalism has prevented Ukraine from succumbing to Russian domination in the 2020s.
The second way to negate Putin's ambitions – by not letting him get his way – is emerging today. There is general agreement in the West today that Putin's geopolitical agenda must be curbed.
This raises two questions:
Much of the rationale for the Western reaction to Putin's advance into Ukraine was that, if not stopped, Putin would be emboldened to risk similar ventures against Poland or the Baltic states, posing a direct threat to Western Europe. From this perspective, Putin needed to be stopped, and Ukraine was the place to do so.
Questions about whether he had the demographics to move further west, the economy to withstand open conflict, or the military to manage it, were either not raised or remain unanswered.
If Ukraine had not resisted Russian aggression, there would have been no room for Western intervention. But intervention changed the nature of the conflict.
What initially began as a clash between countries like Moscow and Kiev within the Russian ecosystem has transformed into a confrontation between Washington and its allies on the one hand, and while the military and humanitarian dimensions of this conflict remain limited to the Russian-Ukrainian border region on the other, its political and economic dimensions have become global.
The human toll from the conflict is estimated at around 400,000 dead and injured, plus around 3.7 million internally displaced persons and 6.3 million refugees who fled the country. Disregarding these, the collateral damage is enormous.
In economic terms, the combined cost of sanctions, embargoes and disruptions is estimated at about $1.5 trillion, or 1% of world GDP. This includes, among other things, the price of oil, which affects fertilizer and petrochemical prices, as well as global grain supplies. From that perspective, the war in Ukraine is truly a global economic disaster.
If the international order is a matter of balance, it is hard to underestimate the disruptive effect of the conflict in Ukraine. NATO, conceived as an anti-Soviet alliance before Putin's “special military operation,” has slid into semi-irrelevance over the years.
Literally overnight, Putin managed to panic-soothe countries like Finland and Sweden into joining the alliance, restoring it as a bulwark against the potential expansion of the Russian Empire.
On a more global scale, Washington's challenge to both Russia and China made it inevitable that the two countries would find common ground in confronting a common foe. But it was not in China's interest to have an excessively weakened Russia (as this would strengthen Washington's global position), nor was it in Beijing's interest to have to confront a resurgent Russian empire on its northern border.
After all, Beijing's policy towards Russia is about providing some support to Putin without provoking an undue reaction from the United States.
For the West in general, and Washington in particular, the future is uncertain to say the least. There is certainly a temptation to use Ukraine to bring Putin to his knees, but this is fraught with danger.
Russia is, after all, a major nuclear power, and if it were to descend into semi-anarchy there is no guarantee that some of its nuclear arsenal would not end up in the wrong hands. So the real question is whether Putin can be contained without destroying the Russian state.
Much will depend on how long Putin's regime can tolerate the restrictions currently being imposed by the West. Sanctions have certainly had some effect, but we should not underestimate the fact that in terms of societal resilience, the level of hardship the Russian population is able to withstand is unmatched by its Western counterparts.
From a socio-economic point of view, Russian society is neither entrepreneurial nor industrialized, the state only produces raw materials, grain and energy, and by simply hunkering down, Russia is ultimately much less vulnerable to outside forces than a country like China.
So far, Putin's “special military operations” have energized NATO, exposed the weaknesses of the Russian military, and significantly boosted Ukrainian nationalism. The reaction to Putin's adventures has yet to indicate that they are coming close to reining him in.
In other words, the current situation is a loss for all involved.
Dr Alexander Casella has worked as a journalist for Le Monde, The Times, The New York Times, Die Zeit, The Guardian, Swiss radio and television, and has written mainly about China and Vietnam. He joined UNHCR in 1973 and served in various positions, including Chief of the East Asia Division and Director of the Asia and Oceania Bureau, before serving as Geneva Representative of the International Centre for Migration Policy and Development.
