The Russian war in Ukraine is a calamity -- for the people suffering through it, for Ukraine, for Russia, for China (which needs stability to develop faster than its competitors), and for most of the world (due to the resulting energy and food crises).
But it is by no means a calamity for the United States.
Consider the geopolitics.
In recent decades, Russia tried to keep Ukraine in its sphere of influence by dangling carrots: reciprocal supply chains established in the Soviet era, common historical-cultural roots, and the project of the Eurasian Union. Had it joined, Ukraine "could have integrated into Europe more quickly and from a stronger position". In other words: Alone, Ukraine would have been treated poorly, but together with Russia, it would be received with the honours due to a great power.
Except Russia is not a great power. By 2014, its GDP had collapsed, dragged by a steep fall in gas and oil prices. For Ukrainians, choosing a modest Russian loan over an association agreement with the European Union no longer made sense (if it ever had); when pro-Russian president Viktor Yanukovych chose the Russian loan, it triggered the Maidan revolt.
Moscow responded by pulling out the stick: annexing Crimea and creating two puppet republics in the old Soviet Rust Belt, the Donbass. It does not take great skills of psychological penetration to understand that Russia had lost whatever sympathy it still enjoyed in Ukraine, and why the new regime in Kyiv would seek protection elsewhere. It does not take great psychological penetration skills to understand why Ukraine preferred to forge an agreement with an economic bloc (US, EU, and UK) with a combined GDP of almost $40 trillion (1,374 trillion baht) in 2020 over doing so with Russia, with its GDP of just $1.5 trillion.
Russia is now stuck in a vicious circle: To develop economically, it must recover its imperial dimension; but, in order to succeed in that, it has to spend resources that it does not have. To play in a bigger league, Russia generally bluffs, giving the rest of the world an impression of power. When it succeeds, it is not only thanks to disproportionate military strength and elusive diplomacy but also because its rivals almost never ask to see what cards it's holding.
In the days preceding the invasion of Ukraine, massive military mobilisation and misleading communication seemed to portend success: Russia was again, overwhelmingly, at the centre of the world -- feared and flattered. The control of Crimea and of the two puppet republics seemed likely to be recognised. Finally, Nato, strongly divided, would most likely have accepted (more likely without saying it) the outcome to lighten its presence at the borders of the former USSR.
All analysts then sceptical about the possibility of a Russian attack (including the present author) were led by this simple observation: If Russia invades, it risks not only losing what it has already obtained but much more. But obviously, Moscow wanted more: control of all of Ukraine. It goes without saying that the unconditional surrender of Ukraine could not be obtained at the negotiating table. Military action thus became the only possible recourse.
But this time, as happens at the poker table, when you have very little or nothing in your hand, you lose your entire stake.
With the invasion, Moscow achieved a long series of results opposite to what it had, at least in words, set for itself: It created a stronger national cohesion in Ukraine, losing most of its residual support among the Russian-speaking population. It reunified and reinvigorated Nato, labelled as "brain dead" by Emmanuel Macron a couple of years ago, increasing the alliance's popularity and prompting Finland and Sweden to want to join. The Russian war caused a surge in Nato's military presence on the borders of the former USSR; allowed Germany to accelerate its rearmament; stimulated the opening of a debate on nuclear weapons in Japan; alienated many in China, Iran, and India (even if the Chinese, Iranians, and Indians cannot say it openly); alarmed Turkey; and was condemned by the UN General Assembly (141 in favour, four against, and 35 abstentions).
Last but not least, Russia showed the world its embarrassing military paucity.
All these consequences make the United States the real, and only, winner of this war, at least at the current stage of the conflict.
Thanks to the war in Ukraine, the United States suddenly regained international influence that had been fading for decades: forced France to put its dreams of "European independence" back in the icebox; obtained increased military commitment from allies that Americans have sought for years; acquired valuable new allies on the Baltic front; improved relations with Turkey after two decades of coldness; increasing the importance of the US in the Pacific and East Asia; and became able to exploit new frictions between rivals, including the Chinese, Iranians, and Russians.
China's leaders are unhappy not only because the Russians proved unreliable but because of the soaring prices of raw materials and because, as good investors, they need stability and order. Moreover, if the common tactical objective of Moscow and Beijing is the weakening of the United States, this war is instead strengthening it.
The United States also has a vested interest in the continuation of this war. But the Russian war on Ukraine will not solve America's problems. The war cannot suddenly or definitively reverse the erosion of American influence, after decades of relative decline.
China will not give up its strategic goals, nor will Europe: The unity of the anti-Russian front on the continent strictly depends on what happens in Ukraine, and therefore is provisional. Electoral victories of Russia's friends Victor Orban in Hungary and Aleksandar Vucic in Serbia indicate that their populations were not upset by the invasion. And if France found a pretext to reactivate its traditional strategy of attention toward Moscow, Italy and Greece would fall into line, and Germany would be forced to choose between the US on one hand and Europe (and gas) on the other.
Right now, the US runs the risk that it, too, may overplay its hand. Many in Washington, blinded by ideology, fail to understand how strategically precious Russia is for US foreign policy. A weak but intact Russia can divide Europe in useful ways, as during the Cold War, and serve as a counterweight to China. But many in Washington still think of Russia as the "evil empire", deserving to be wiped from the geopolitical map of the world. If such ideological and emotional considerations prevail over geopolitical calculations, the consequences for international relations will be disastrous for everyone.
But it would be much worse for the United States, which has more power to lose than any other country. For Russia or the United States or any other country, any attempt to make ideological and emotional aspirations prevail over the geopolitical calculation of constraints is a sure recipe for disaster. ZÓCALO PUBLIC SQUARE
Manlio Graziano teaches geopolitics and geopolitics of religion at the Paris School of International Affairs (Sciences Po), at Sorbonne, and the College of Europe (Warsaw). His books include 'Holy Wars and Holy Alliance' (Columbia University Press, 2017), 'In Rome We Trust' (Stanford University Press, 2017) and 'What Is a Border?' (Stanford, 2018).
