Western diplomacy towards Russia and the Logic of Failure: why territorial concessions will not end Russia’s war

Alaska talks and the “Logic of Failure”

Since Donald Trump’s inauguration, barely a period has passed without Putin publically calling for addressing the “root causes” of his war in Ukraine. Trump’s upcoming gathering with Vladimir Putin in Alaska brings “peace” negotiations regarding the war in Ukraine to another level. Both Moscow and Kyiv have reasons to research a temporary halt: Russia faces a weakening economy and at the same time the most Russia-friendly US president ever. At the same time, Ukraine is uncertain of continued western support. Regardless of the result of the Alaska talks, it is so plausible that under a Trump presidency the fighting could come to a temporary end. Yet enthusiasm about this is misplaced. Going for a Trump-styled “quick fix” to Russia’s war in Ukraine most likely falls into what Dietrich Dörner calls the “Logic of Failure”: reducing a complex, systemic problem to a tiny fraction of manageable aspects, and making decisions that yet worsen the situation.

This analysis takes Putin’s call at face value and examines the “root causes” of Russia’s war through 2 complementary lenses: neorealist systemic theory, which sees the war as a consequence to shifts in the balance of power; and liberal theories of home preferences and identity, which explain it as the product of Russia’s autocratic political strategy and imperial national identity. As different as both perspectives are, they both point to the same message: the war in Ukraine has structural problems, and territorial concessions will not solve them. Neither of the following 2 explanations make a durable peace with Russia seem likely any time soon.

Perspective One: systemic pressures, power-balancing and safety fears

This view follows the neorealist school of global relations. Neorealism explains state behaviour from a systemic perspective, mostly ignoring home political structures. In this theory, the global strategy is anarchic – meaning there is no overarching authority. States, thus, operate in a kind of self-help system, in which each “spends a condition of its effort […] in providing the means of protecting itself against others”, according to Kenneth Waltz.

In this framework, all states – regardless of interior politics – prosecute the same goals at the global level: the protection of their security. Accordingly, states are afraid about comparative gains compared with any losses in their power. If a state perceives a decline in its comparative position, it may consider war as a means of preventing rivals from becoming besides powerful. From this perspective, the Russian attack on Ukraine could be seen as an example of “power-balancing” – a concept frequently invoked in political debate to explain Russia’s consequence to NATO’s expansion into east Europe, which increased the comparative capabilities of the United States and its allies. As Moscow perceived this as a safety threat, Russia opted for military action against Ukraine to reconstruct its position.

Yet a key flaw in this position is the war’s trajectory: In the course of the war, Russia importantly lost influence in the South Caucasus and Syria, started to face contested influence in Central Asia, extended its border with NATO through Finland, and faced a weakening economy – This suggests either that Russia severely miscalculated the war’s possible consequences – or that power-balancing was never the main driver. This makes the second position more persuasive.

Perspective Two: the Russian system…

This position looks more at the home constitution of a state to explain its abroad policy behaviour. Andrew Moravcsik’s liberal theory, peculiarly “Taking Preferences Seriously”, remains 1 of the most influential works in this tradition. Its central insight is:

“Societal ideas, interests, and institutions influence state behaviour by shaping state preferences, that is, the fundamental social purposes underlying the strategical calculations of government.”

Moravcsik identifies 3 variants of liberalism, with 2 peculiarly applicable to Russia’s war in Ukraine.

…is autocratic

The thought of “Republican Liberalism” emphasizes that since not all social interests can be represented in the state’s external behaviour, what matters is “whose social preferences are institutionally privileged”. Moravcsik states that “the more unbiased the scope of home groups [are] represented, the little likely they will support policies that impose advanced net costs or risks on a broad scope of social actors. Thus, […] costly or risky abroad policy—is most likely in undemocratic or inegalitarian polities,” where only a very tiny fraction of home groups gains representation.

As Russia’s political strategy has become increasingly centralized since 2012, power has shifted distant from home actors toward a personalist authoritarian regime, where major policy decisions are concentrated in the hands of the autocrat. Moscow’s safety Council gathering 3 days before the invasion illustrates this: most members appeared unaware of the war plans.

This concentration of power helps explain why the tremendous costs of the war did not deter the Kremlin: diverse societal interests had small influence over the decision. However, while home institutions can make conditions for war, they are not a adequate origin in and of themselves. Just due to the fact that power is concentrated does not mean that war is the most apparent abroad policy tool.

…is Ukraine-centred

The underlying reasons for war are taken up by “Ideational Liberalism”. This outlook focuses on how national identity shapes abroad policy preferences: “Where national conceptions of legitimate borders, political institutions, and socioeconomic equality are compatible, thus generating affirmative or negligible externalities, harmony is likely.” If these national conceptions are not compatible, then conflict is likely.

Post-Soviet Russia could not specify itself against Moscow, as another erstwhile russian states did. Instead, it built a self-image as a transnational superpower, linking its legitimacy to both the tsarist and russian past. Unlike European nation states, Russia does not see itself as a standard nation state, but attempts to extend its legitimacy beyond the cultural Russian nation. This becomes evident erstwhile looking at the translation of the word “Russian” into Russian: Russkiy (русский) refers to cultural Russians, while Rossiyskiy (Российский) refers to all citizens of the Russian state regardless of their nationality, as in the authoritative state’s name of Rossiyskaya Federatsiya (Российская Федерация). This conception reinforces a transnational self-understanding following the tradition of the russian Union in which Ukraine is central. We already saw this early on with Putin’s predecessor Yeltsin: “It is impossible to teardrop from our hearts the fact that Ukrainians are our own people.” Putin’s 2021 essay “On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians” formalized this stance in policy terms and laid the ideological ground for Russia’s later invasion of Ukraine.

…is imperial

Ukraine’s centrality should not be mistaken for a limit to Russia’s ambitions. The Russian strategy is imperial at its core – and its expansion has no natural endpoint. Vladislav Surkov, Putin’s closest advisor until 2020, frames it this way:

“For Russia, constant expansion is not just 1 thought among many, but the existential condition of our historical existence.”

The Russian political theorist Alexander Dugin takes it further:

“The rejection of the imperial-building function means the end of the existence of the Russian people as a historical reality, as a civilizational phenomenon. specified a refusal is national suicide.”

Such statements are not rhetorical excesses; they capture the perceived existential nature of Russia’s imperialism. This worldview is openly endorsed by Putin himself, who late declared at this year’s St Petersburg global economical Forum that:

“There’s an old regulation that wherever a Russian soldier sets foot, that’s ours.”

Why territorial concessions will fail

Neorealism interprets Russia’s invasion as a power-balancing decision against NATO expansion, while liberal theories uncover how Russia’s autocratic institutions and imperial identity make expansionism a home imperative. Whether viewed as a reaction to systemic pressures or as the outgrowth of a profoundly rooted worldview, the consequences are the same: Russia’s goals disregard Ukrainian sovereignty and search to re-order the post-Cold War global system.

At the moment, neither Trump nor the EU seem to have the willingness to measure and address the causes of the war properly. As a result, they fall into Dörner’s aforementioned “Logic of Failure”: a tendency of decision-makers to simplify, narrowing their focus to immediate, linear solutions – and thereby choosing the incorrect course.

Territorial concessions to Russia might pause the fighting, but they will not change the structural and ideational drivers of the war: With receiving land from Ukraine, Russia will neither halt being autocratic, nor halt constructing its identity with a Ukrainian core, nor halt being imperial. Thus, treating Russia’s war as a specified dispute over land is simply a category error, and request to be read as a success of Russia’s imperial endeavours.

Like that, Russia’s imperialism will not fade distant – it will most likely be reinforced and could legitimize further, later aggression against both Ukraine and Europe.

Escaping the logic of failure requires recognising the war’s complexity, anticipating second- and third-order effects, and avoiding the lure of fast fixes. Europe must prepare for a long-term competition with Russian imperialism and recognise: If territorial concessions are not simultaneously backed by credible safety guarantees and Kyiv’s consequent integration with the EU, then the war’s result must be read as a one-sided triumph for Putin. Hopes for readjusting specified a strategy must not be placed on Trump. Instead, Europe must take decisive action: analytically, diplomatically and militarily.

Alexander Sicheneder is a half-Ukrainian political analyst and investigator based in Germany. He studied global Relations and Energy Economics, spent a year in Russia, and has professional experience in European institutions.

New east Europe is simply a reader supported publication. delight support us and aid us scope our goal of $10,000! We are nearly there. Donate by clicking on the button below.