For more than a couple of decades, the Russian Federation has been in the process of reasserting itself as a telluric Eurasian force to be reckoned with, particularly in the post-Soviet space. Although contemporary Russia is far behind the USSR in several respects, the ongoing revival of the Russian imperial ‘passionarity’ has unleashed game-changing shockwaves. In the vicious competitive arena of international politics, this incremental geopolitical progression has clashed with the U.S. post-Cold War hegemonic pretensions, the consolidation of the American tutelage of much of the European rimland under the umbrella of NATO, and the intellectual sway of post-modern liberal globalism as an uncompromising ideology in many strategic communities across the Western world. The Russian invasion of Ukraine and the subsequent war are merely the most dramatic manifestations of this adversarial reality. Although Russia has fought against many Western rivals before —such as the Knights Teutonic, Sweden, Napoleonic France, the British Empire, and Nazi Germany— this is the first time in which Moscow is at odds with the so-called ‘collective West’ as a unified bloc.
Yet, the West’s staunch determination to turn NATO-backed Ukraine into the graveyard of Russia as a major power has not produced the intended outcome. The Russians are not backing down in what they regard as an existential conflict fought for the sake of strategic depth as an imperative of national security. In turn, the initial Russian Blitzkrieg did not achieve a spectacular success —comparable to Moscow’s quick victorious military intervention in Georgia back in 2008— either, but the Russians are not fools. Moscow has learned from its own mistakes, managed to adapt to an operational theatre in flux, and reshuffled its strategies. The Kremlin has not conquered Ukraine as a whole or even beheaded the Ukrainian government, but the intensive investment of its advantages in the ongoing war effort is securing a favorable balance of power. This upper hand could soon be consolidated as a fait accompli. Until now, Ukraine has preserved its statehood and scored political and symbolical victories in Washington and Brussels, but not on the frontlines.
For Washington and Brussels, this gridlock poses strategic challenges that require imaginative solutions to recalibrate their strategic approach towards Moscow. In this regard, the following contents examine —from the perspective of Western realist statecraft— three conceivable options for an eventual reformulation of Western foreign policies vis-à-vis the Russian Federation. Each of them represents a departure from the present state of affairs. Accordingly, the costs, risks, and benefits of these hypothetical alternatives deserve to be assessed. It is pertinent to keep in mind that the evolution of Russian behavior and expectations can also influence whether the fateful recalculations of Western states eventually favor carrots, sticks, or even some sort of unorthodox combination.
War
Relations between the so-called ‘collective West’ and Russia have become increasingly tense since the Euromaidan movement that triggered a tectonic regime change in Kyiv and the ensuing takeover of Crimea by Moscow. In turn, the 2022 Russian invasion of Ukraine galvanized the revitalization of NATO as an alliance determined to counter Moscow’s geopolitical aims in Eastern Europe. Ukraine received Western diplomatic support, as well as cash, intelligence, weapons, and military supplies. Moreover, the most far-reaching wartime military mobilization in Europe since World War II prompted an unprecedented campaign of economic warfare. The point of the resulting economic and financial sanctions was to undermine the Russian war effort and fuel socio-political unrest in Russia proper. The U.S. and the constellation of Western states under its leadership intended to materialize a strategic victory that would entail the permanent removal of Russia from the ranks of the world’s major powers. Still, rather than altering its behavior, Moscow has doubled down. The Kremlin is determined to prevail in what it regards as an existential conflict —in which its national security red lines are at stake— through protracted attrition, a settlement negotiated under a favorable correlation of forces, or the outright dismantlement of Ukraine as a functional state. Besides, even though Russia has lost sources of access to international financial arteries and advanced technological innovations, it has managed to shield its economy through defensive assets. These include its condition as a full-spectrum commodity superpower, its domestic strategic industries, the diversification of its international economic exchanges, and an axial quest to diminish reliance on financial and monetary circuits connected to the US dollar. In short, Russia is unlikely to concede defeat any time soon as a result of these geoeconomic measures. Rather than succumbing, Moscow has —to a certain extent— deflected their impact.
However, the continuation of present trajectories means that the threshold of confrontation can still go further. There are political realities that point in this direction. Some overzealous Western figures —including U.S. neoconservatives, EU technocrats, high priests of militant ‘democratism’ and the so-called ‘Davos men’— reject the prospect of a diplomatic solution and encourage the adoption of even more aggressive policies towards Russia. Certain Western leaders —including then-British Prime Minister Boris Johnson and French President Emmanuel Macron— have supported the continuation of an adversarial approach, either publicly or secretly. The assumption behind these attitudes is that Russia must be completely vanquished. For these people, Russia constitutes not just a formidable strategic rival with interests that are not aligned with those of the West, but a reviled ideological enemy which heretically refuses to follow the creed of post-modern Western liberalism and whose ‘hordes’ threaten the so-called ‘rules-based order’. This mindset mirrors the sanctimonious zeal of both Catholic and Protestant European states prior to the peace of Westphalia.
In turn, threats of nuclear saber-rattling, both veiled and overt, have been exchanged between the American-led NATO and Russia. Moreover, Russia no longer follows a compartmentalized policy towards different Western states. Instead, Moscow has abandoned subtle nuances in order to challenge the West —with all instruments of national power— as a full-fledged civilizational enemy in multiple overlapping battlespaces. The Russians are convinced that hard power is the only spearhead that can bury the remnants of unipolarity, restore the credibility of their military deterrence, and rewrite the architecture of European security, even if the risks of such a gamble are exceedingly high. The Kremlin is willing to embrace danger because it believes that a multipolar model of world order is the only configuration in which Russia can fulfill its reassertion. From the Russian perspective, the war is worth fighting for. In Russia, there is no shortage of strategic thinkers, ideologues, and theorists who endorse an even more offensive stance. A growing grassroots rejection of everything the West stands for is also noteworthy in today’s Russia. In a nutshell, it looks like bridges are being burned by both sides in this increasingly Schmittian conflict.
Furthermore, the prospect that the Ukrainian military might be overwhelmed by the numerical superiority of the Russian armed forces has the potential to attract the operational presence of Western special forces units, instructors, advisers, technicians, military hardware operators, and even combat troops. Yet, it is unclear if all Western states are willing to fight the Russians in the contested Ukrainian battleground as a result of various reasons: 1) the depletion of Western stockpiles of weapons and military materiel; 2) the increasing political traction of domestic nationalist forces which do not support involvement in what they see as a distant conflict while there are more pressing concerns at home; 3) the emerging perception that the current course of action needs to be readjusted and 4) the lack of consensus amongst NATO members about the convenience of a direct clash with the Russians. However, the powerful drivers of the conflict encourage inertia as a force that can push the spiral of conflict beyond the event horizon, even if neither side truly wants a wider full-scale Clausewitzian war. Finally, this mutual animosity is accelerating the rise of an arms race involving hypersonic missiles, anti-satellite weapons (ASAT), and perhaps even the development of outer space-based nukes. The potential for a major tectonic collision is remarkably high.
War is a military tool that serves the political aims of the national interest in the practice of statecraft, as long as things go more or less as expected. Nevertheless, a war between Russia and the most powerful Western states would open Pandora’s box. Even if the prospective belligerents do not necessarily want to transcend the confines of conventional conflict in any potential battlefield, the risks of miscalculation, provocation, and escalation are significant. As wargaming exercises have shown, there can be no such thing as a limited nuclear exchange under those circumstances. Even the detonation of a tactical nuclear blast by either side has the potential to trigger an unpredictable chain reaction. Once the nuclear Rubicon has been crossed, there is no way to tell how far the escalatory ladder can go. In this regard, Russia and the most powerful states of the collective West —the US, the UK, and France— have massive amounts of nukes and state-of-the-art delivery systems. During the Cold War, the hypothetical prospect of a mutually assured destruction (MAD) was a powerful guarantee that underwrote a reciprocal deterrence between Americans and the Soviets. Nevertheless, the situation is different now. The current standoff features a changing balance of power shaped by a struggle between status-quo powers and a revisionist challenger, the most seismic outbreak of military hostilities in Europe since WW2, confusing Maskirovka-style psychological warfare tactics, growing domestic political pressures to desperately turn the tables, potential temptations to go for the kill and the spatial closeness of the confrontation to the pivotal Eurasian heartland.
Containment
In various fields of national power (demographics, economic performance, industrial output, technological innovation, and ‘soft power’), Russia is a shadow of the former Soviet Union. Despite the hawkish fantasies of Russian hardline nationalists, the idea of Russian tanks retaking Warsaw or Prague —let alone overrunning the Fulda Gap or the Khyber Pass— is out of touch with reality. The Russians lack the political will or the material ability to pull off such intrepid deeds. Moreover, the costs would certainly be superior to any potential benefits. In addition, as the outcomes of the Kremlin’s military intervention in Ukraine have shown, the reach of conventional Russian hard power is constrained. Yet, the evolving performance of the Russian military on the battlefield —where it has faced a NATO-equipped army manned by fiercely nationalistic Ukrainian soldiers— reveals quantitatively and qualitatively substantial capabilities. Although Russia is not reluctant to embrace calculated risks and dangerous gambles, it has limited ambitions for the time being. However, Russia might, in the coming decades, become strong and bold enough to develop a more far-reaching and ruthless approach, especially in a context in which an increasingly complex polycentric world order is emerging. After all, it has proved to be a highly resilient state and a constant player in successive great power concerts, even after undergoing systemically catastrophic setbacks. Furthermore, the prospect of a deepening demographic contraction provides an incentive for acting brazenly while the Russian state can still rely on an abundant pool of manpower.
On the other hand, the Russian hybrid warfare tradecraft includes weaponized vectors of complex interdependence, acts of cyberwarfare, paramilitary proxies, formidable intelligence services, force multipliers, and asymmetric equalizers. This toolkit of ‘active measures’ provides various instruments for political and strategic interference that do not require the direct involvement of kinetic power projection. Although the prospect of a Russian invasion of Europe beyond the post-Soviet space in the near future is remote, Moscow can mobilize its clandestine assets in order to alter or manipulate the balance of power in Eastern Europe, particularly in former Warsaw Pact states. From the Russian perspective, national security determines the pursuit of strategic depth in order to deter the possibility of an invasion or a surprise attack through the corridors that connect the Russian heartland with the European peninsula. Therefore, the Kremlin is likely to make continuous efforts to strengthen the weight of its influence in Eastern Europe and to rollback potentially hostile military alliances. In fact, several precedents can be interpreted in accordance with this logic. These include: 1) the alleged involvement of Russian intelligence personnel in the 2014 Czech munition depot blast and the 2016 attempted coup in Montenegro; 2) the political mobilization of Russian-speaking citizens in the Baltics; 3) Moscow’s continuous overtures to Serbia; 4) the placement of advanced weaponry in the strategic exclave of Kaliningrad; 5) Russian intermittent probes of NATO’s Eastern flank and 6) the recently attempted sabotage of European logistical infrastructure, including railways. This arsenal is highly effective in the sense that its deployment delivers effective outcomes with little costs and sometimes even with plausible denial.
On the other hand, Russia has managed to expand its geopolitical footprint beyond the ‘near abroad’ (i.e. the post-Soviet space). As such, it has managed to gain overt and covert beachheads in areas like the Levant, Sub-Saharan Africa, the Balkans, Southeast Asia, and even the American hemisphere. In addition, the savviness of Russian diplomacy has increased Moscow’s leverage in the so-called ‘Global South’ through arm-twisting maneuvers, opportunism, bilateral transactional deals, patronage for illiberal regimes, Faustian bargains, and multilateral institutional partnerships. In this game, the Kremlin is pragmatic enough to engage both unapologetically anti-Western states like Iran and North Korea in order to further the benefits of an emerging military cooperation, as well as rising states that intend to maximize their strategic independence like Brazil and India. Yet, in contrast to the Soviet grand strategy —shaped by the pursuit of global hegemony and the control of third-world countries with significant deposits of natural resources— Russia does not seek to take over the world. Instead of direct dominance, what the Russians want in these secondary theatres of engagement in which their vital security interests are not at stake is the accumulation of bargaining chips. The Kremlin might have placed a few strategic assets in Nicaragua, but it is not willing to go to war over a Central American nation. Still, since this drive is challenging the foreign policy and business interests of certain Western states (especially the U.S., the UK, and France), it has the potential to fuel an intensive security competition. Therefore, such states feel the imperative to react in order to protect their interests and also to make sure that —in an eventual diplomatic settlement— the co-relation of forces does not overwhelmingly favor the Russians.
In addition, containment policies will likely be present in the upcoming version of the Arctic ‘Great Game’. Specifically, Moscow and some Western states (namely, the U.S., Canada, and Norway) will foreseeably compete for ‘cryopolitical’ superiority in the Northernmost corner of the world. As the ice sheets of the deep tundra recede, the Arctic Grossraum will be contested as a result of its deposits of strategic raw materials —including energy, minerals, freshwater, and biodiversity— and its advantages for both military and commercial navigation. The potential for the development of critical infrastructure in the coming decades is another relevant factor. Moreover, this pursuit could represent a step so that Russia can finally become a world-class maritime power in an area that connects the Northern ports of Europe, Asia, and America. It must be borne in mind that the development of a full-fledged blue-water navy has been a historical ambition of Russian statecraft that was present in the minds of both the Czars and Soviet admirals. In fact, nowadays Russia has some comparative advantages, including a fleet of nuclear icebreakers, scientific expertise, and the close proximity of the Siberian landmass. Unsurprisingly, Western states like the U.S. and Canada (along with certain European partners) will probably join forces in an attempt to make sure that the Kremlin does not control the entire Arctic circle. In accordance with a zero-sum logic, both sides will be trying to undercut each other’s relative gains.
A new version of containment —inspired by the strategic prescriptions of men like Sir Halford Mackinder, Nicholas Spykman, and George Kennan— can perhaps provide a functional formula to keep in check tensions between the West and Russia. Such a scheme might also restrict the most predatory inclinations of the Russian imperial tradition beyond the geopolitical perimeter of Moscow’s sphere of influence.
Engagement
There are several ways in which powerful Western states can engage the Russians through diplomacy. For the time being, a hypothetical rapprochement seems unlikely. Nevertheless, the fluctuating political and military facts on the ground in the Ukrainian battlefield and the possibility of internal foreign policy reassessments in the US and other key Western states can facilitate some sort of compromise. The simplest bilateral agreement would bring a consensual détente reached through backchannels and implicitly de-escalatory moves. Such a breakthrough would not diminish enmity but at least it would provide a strategic framework to manage rivalries so that the risk of conflict is substantially mitigated. A more far-reaching form of engagement would be a negotiation to end the Ukraine War and to ensure a reasonably stable modus vivendi. This hypothetical agreement could adopt different potential forms, including a ceasefire as a prelude to a frozen conflict, a non-aggression pact, Kyiv’s strategic neutrality, the territorial partition —or Finlandisation— of Ukraine, or perhaps even the comprehensive redistribution of spheres of influence. A Machiavellian deal would require the political willingness to arrange —under a scheme reminiscent of the Congress of Vienna and the Yalta Conference— an exchange of concessions from both sides underwritten by credible guarantees. The expectations of these scenarios would oscillate between a cold peace and a manageable regional security competition.
Finally, the most ambitious aim of a prospective engagement would be the development of a partnership. Considering the enduring geopolitical rivalries between the Russian tellurocracy and Western thalassocracies, as well as Moscow’s deepening ties to Beijing, this prospect seems counterintuitive and far-fetched, but the imperatives of political realities can make strange bedfellows. Moreover, there are precedents that show that such a goal is at least theoretically feasible. General De Gaulle envisaged a Europe from the Atlantic to the Urals. In the early post-Cold War era, Russian statecraft (even under Vladimir Putin shortly after he took over) actively intended to forge close strategic ties to NATO as a bloc. As the industrial engine of the EU —and partially inspired by the heritage of Östpolitik— Germany developed a collaborative association with Russia in the pursuit of a source of energy and natural resources. In this regard, Washington’s pressing need to counter the challenge of a rising China —a strategic peer competitor with the critical mass to remake the global order— might operate as a catalyst to revise its position towards Moscow in the not-so-distant future. Russia is too large, powerful, assertive, and independent to join the strategic umbrella of the collective West, but perhaps the pragmatic necessities of ‘Richelovian’ Realpolitik can give birth to an eventual overture based on the partial convergence of certain national interests. From the perspective of American strategic intelligence, the Indo-Pacific —as the key front of a neo-Cold War— is more important than post-Soviet Eastern Europe. After all, the strategic inclination of Russia is much more consequential and pivotal than those of Estonia or Lithuania in the simmering contest between Washington and Beijing over the fate of global hegemony. Although raison d’État under the heavy shadow of geopolitics behaves mostly in accordance with impersonal forces, the implementation of this solution would require the intellectual shrewdness of men like Metternich, Talleyrand, and Kissinger.
Conclusions
From the Western viewpoint, there is a possibility that is far more troublesome than a setback and the loss of credibility of NATO collective security guarantees. Considering the changing political and military trajectories of the Ukraine War and the international system’s shifting geopolitical realities, the West and Russia are locked in a path that leads to a heightened confrontation. The next clash can be a direct military conflict rather than a proxy war. Fierce rhetoric aside, a direct war between NATO forces and Russia is not unconceivable, but it is unclear if such potential conflagration can be even winnable. Although neither side seems to harbor a suicidal death wish, said scenario remains feasible unless the current tide is turned. Thus, it is unwise to play the game of chicken when a nuclear Armageddon is a real risk only to save face or to uphold ideological abstractions. Despite much reciprocal animosity, mutual annihilation does not serve the interests of either side.
Between the polar extremes of appeasement and an apocalyptic war, there are more convenient alternatives such as containment or some sort of engagement. Maybe elements of both possibilities can be blended in varying proportions, in accordance with the preferences and priorities of each of the maritime and continental Western powers. Far from offering a masterstroke or a silver bullet, these cards would not bring everlasting peace or even friendship but —in an increasingly uncertain, anarchic, and dangerous world— perhaps they can provide a reasonable degree of predictability and order. In the Mephistophelian art of high politics and statecraft, imperfection is better than chaos. Sometimes bad needs to begin so that worse remains behind.
Jose Miguel Alonso-Trabanco is an international relations professional who holds a Master’s Degree in Strategic Intelligence and National Security. He is currently pursuing a PhD in Defence and Security Studies at Massey University, New Zealand.
