Where does the world go from here?

There is so much enthusiasm, terror, and anxiety floating among us. The atmosphere is intoxicating and perilous. Let's survey about some of the emotions surfaced by the Russian invasion of Ukraine.

President Volodymyr Zelenskyy pulled our heart strings by speaking to what we want to believe we value:

Right now, the destiny of our country is being decided. The destiny of our people, whether Ukrainians will be free, whether they will be able to preserve their democracy. Russia has attacked not just us, not just our land, our cities. It went on a brutal offensive against our values. Basic human values. Against our freedom, our right to live freely, choosing our own future. Against our desire for happiness, against our national dreams.

We're profoundly unused to heroism. Here's a guy -- and a people -- Davids up against a nasty Goliath. How could we not be moved? We, most of us, have plenty of reason to believe our country and society are in trouble, largely inept, decayed, amoral, racist, and scarcely functioning after pandemic and ascendant nationalist thuggery.

Historian of Ukraine Timothy Snyder diagnoses our feelings:

[Ukrainians] are consoling us.  Because Ukrainians are resisting, not just on the battlefield but as a society, they console us all. Every day they act is one when we can reflect, and hope. People do have values. The world is not empty.  People do find courage. There are things worth taking risks for.

It feels so good -- to be able to believe for a few minutes that the United States is for once on the right side of freedom. I'm seventy-four. No U.S. war in my lifetime has seemed to me just. (Yes, I can tell you why, but that's not what I'm writing about here.) I'm a Christian; I think most theory of "just war" is empire-serving sophistry. War is evil. But so is a brutish dictator choosing to invade a neighboring country and smash a functioning society. And yet, war is still never something to enjoy.

 

For some people -- perhaps too many -- there's both purpose and romance in a just cause. Hieu is a U.S. combat veteran who knew what he had to do. He was present when Russian missiles struck the Yavoriv military training center in western Ukraine.

When Russia launched its full-scale attack on Ukraine in February, he felt compelled to join the international legion, which is open to foreigners who want to fight the Russians. “It’s the right thing to do,” Hieu posted on his Facebook page in February. “I want to help the Ukrainian people and as [a] US veteran, I feel compelled to stand up for my American ideals. I’m mostly healthy and I’m qualified so I would not be able to rest easy knowing that I didn’t do something when I could.”

Let's hope he gets back alive.

In this time, I feel intense comradeship with Russians who want to explain to the world that they do not endorse what their ruler has begun.

Journalist Yevgenia Albats tells a western interviewer:

I feel awful. I'm a citizen of the Russian Federation. And I always thought that being political journalist, I have to have the same sort of constraints, in the same settings, as people I write for. I could have applied for Israeli citizenship because I'm Jewish, or Spanish or Portuguese citizenship, because centuries ago, my ancestors went from Morocco and they were kicked out from Spain and Portugal. It never even occurred to me to do that. I thought: “I have to be just a Russian citizen, as the readers are for whom I write.” 

I feel so ashamed [of] my country, which went through the awful realities of the World War II—my country, which lost 27 million people to Nazi occupation and the war. My dad fought at the front in World War II. And you know where? In Nikolaev. Yes. It is like a joke of history. My dad was parachuted onto the territory of Nazi-occupied Ukraine. ...

Ilia Krasilshchik is the former publisher of Meduza, an independent news outlet.

... The primary responsibility for this evil lies squarely at the feet of Mr. Putin and his entourage. But for those who opposed the regime, in ways big and small, the responsibility is also ours to bear. How did it happen? What did we do wrong? How do we prevent this from happening again? These are the questions we’re facing. No matter where we are — in Moscow, Tbilisi, Yerevan, Riga, Istanbul, Tel Aviv or New York — and no matter what we do. 

 ... We must now put aside our individual concerns and accept our common responsibility for the war. Such an act is, first and foremost, a moral necessity. But it could also be the first step toward a new Russian nation — a nation that could talk to the world in a language other than wars and threats, a nation that others will learn not to fear. It is toward creating this Russia that we, outcast and exiled and persecuted, should bend our efforts.

In the context of America's wars, especially the Iraq war, I would sometimes make the bitter joke that the only people as deeply ashamed of their country as I was of mine were anti-Zionist Israelis watching the pounding of Gaza. Antiwar Russians -- welcome to this sad club.

People in the United States need to understand that not everyone in the world sees the Russian invasion of Ukraine and our material and empathetic cheer-leading as we do.

Anthony Faiola and Lesley Wroughton report:

Many countries in the developing world, including some of Russia’s closest allies, are unsettled by Putin’s breach of Ukrainian sovereignty. Yet the giants of the Global South — including India, Brazil and South Africa — are hedging their bets while China still publicly backs Putin. Even NATO-member Turkey is acting coy, moving to shut off the Bosporus and Dardanelles straits to all warships, not just the Russians. 

Just as Western onlookers often shrug at far-flung conflicts in the Middle East and Africa, some citizens in emerging economies are gazing at Ukraine and seeing themselves without a dog in this fight — and with compelling national interests for not alienating Russia. In a broad swath of the developing world, the Kremlin’s talking points are filtering into mainstream news and social media. But even more measured assessments portray Ukraine as not the battle royal between good and evil being witnessed by the West, but a Machiavellian tug of war between Washington and Moscow. ...

After all, there is little reason for most of the world to look upon the United States or Europe as particularly benevolent forces.

A 27-year-old doctor living near Nairobi in Kenya questioned how Americans could be outraged over the Russian invasion when “for so long, they had a monopoly over anarchy.” New York Times

And a monopoly over unjustified invasions of choice ...

To my moderate surprise, I think Joe Biden is handling this potentially catastrophic moment pretty well. He has been measured, resolute, and seems to remember that it is Ukrainians and European states that are in the immediate line of fire. So far, so good.

I do wonder, along with Peter Beinart who is feeling much chastened after having applauded past U.S. military adventures, whether Biden and his staff have visualized an endgame, especially to the sanctions which certainly are an act of economic war.

After 9/11, ... righteous indignation constricted public debate. I’m not even talking about the debate over invading Iraq. Think back to the debate over invading Afghanistan. Because the Taliban was so odious, because it deserved to be overthrown, Americans found it extremely difficult to question the wisdom of doing so. No one wanted to be accused of despising the Taliban less than everyone else. So not enough people (myself included) asked hard questions about America’s strategy.  

In this moment of justified fury at Vladimir Putin, I fear that’s happening again today.

It's not just Putin who needs an off-ramp. Someday Ukraine and the rest of us need to visualize a livable end.