The shock of Russia’s full-scale invasion has been replaced, one year on, by horror at the toll that it has taken on Ukraine. Tens of thousands of lives have been lost, including those of civilians; tens of thousands have been injured, and more bear psychological scars. The country’s infrastructure has been pulverised. In September, an estimate suggested that rebuilding Ukraine would cost upwards of $349bn, a figure that will have risen sharply. Millions have fled their homes and often their country too.
The reverberations of Vladimir Putin’s attack have been felt, too, far beyond its borders. This illegal act of aggression has entrenched a growing food crisis, claiming more lives and threatening stability in other nations. Its reshaping of international relations will define the decades to come.
“The whole world faced a test for the age,” Joe Biden said in Warsaw this week. “The world would not look the other way.” The west rightly threw its weight behind Ukraine. Mr Putin did not expect the full scale of sanctions to hit Russia, nor the breadth of condemnation. On Thursday, the UN general assembly was expected to pass another resolution demanding Russia’s unconditional withdrawal by an overwhelming majority.
Yet this was never, as some initially portrayed it, simply a story of Russia against the rest – nor even, as many in the west still believe, the emergence of a bipolar world in which the west and allied democracies face off against a Chinese-Russian bloc. (The Sino-Russian relationship is itself complex despite its strengthening, as China continues to try to straddle conflicting interests.) India abstained on a previous denunciation of Moscow at the general assembly; many of the countries that backed the resolution – such as Brazil – were unwilling to take further action.
Many leaders and publics in the global south, even in democracies, are cynical about grand declarations by western leaders that they are backing Ukraine solely to defend democracy. This is partly historical. South Africa has been conducting military exercises with Russia and China; the ruling ANC received Soviet and Chinese support when the west turned a blind eye to apartheid. People point to the US and its allies backing dictators and toppling elected leaders and the disastrous invasion of Iraq.
The sense of hypocrisy is heightened by the lack of attention in the west to what has probably been a much deadlier war in Ethiopia, and the welcome given to Ukrainians compared with other refugees. For many, a swift end to the conflict also looks more attractive than the best outcome for Ukrainians. Russia seems no threat to them, and soaring food prices have hit the world’s poorest the hardest.
The contrast in perspectives stretches beyond the war itself to the kind of world that lies beyond it. Research published by the European Council on Foreign Relations shows that while Europeans and Americans think the future will probably be defined by US- and Chinese-led blocs, people in China, India, Turkey and Russia foresee a multipolar world, in which many powers shape outcomes. The report’s authors point to a paradox: while the war has consolidated the west, the international realm is diversifying. Unlike in the cold war, trade and security partners may be quite distinct. Instead of looking back to the past, the west must prepare for the future. As repugnant as Mr Putin’s war is, moralising about other countries’ responses will be less useful than recognising and reflecting on the distinct interests of rising powers.
