As the bitter conflict between Russia and Ukraine grinds into its second year, the clamor for peace grows ever louder. From Western intellectuals to Chinese leader Xi Jinping presenting his peace plan during a recent visit to Russia, many seem to believe that an agreement between the warring parties is possible. Sadly, that's not the case.
Never mind the doubts surrounding activists' naivety and China's ulterior motives, there is a far more critical issue at hand. Russian President Vladimir Putin cannot withdraw from the occupied territories, even if he wanted.
When the Kremlin announced the annexation of the Ukrainian regions of Luhansk, Donetsk, Kherson, and Zaporizhzhia as integral parts of Russia last September, analysts in the West dismissed it as a meaningless PR stunt. That shows a lack of understanding of the Russian mindset.
The annexation was a PR stunt, but it was far from meaningless. Dead soldiers suddenly went from victims of an invasive war to heroes defending Russian soil and people. It gave Moscow a chance to make nuclear threats more credible because Ukrainian attempts to liberate occupied territories could now be interpreted as a violation of Russian sovereignty. And it also significantly limited Moscow's options for the future.
If you think that no sane mind could believe such rhetorical farce, think again. Almost half of Americans still believe that the 2020 presidential election was rigged, and the same number think that humans were created some 10,000 years ago. In France, 46 percent fear that elites want to replace the local population with immigrants, while 27 percent of Germans and German-speaking Swiss believe in a plot to decimate global population through COVID-19.
This is happening in countries with free access to countless sources of information. Imagine how things work in a land that has honed state propaganda into a fine art. Russians are fed a steady diet of official narratives and skewed perspectives everywhere, from classrooms to newsrooms. Independent media has been ostracized for two decades of Putin's rule, becoming virtually extinct after the invasion. When the state declares Kherson et al a Russian territory, a vast swathe of Russian citizens will nod in agreement. Such is the strength of Putin's hold on the public imagination, and that's the problem.
Nobody in the West sees into Vladimir Putin's head, and it's unclear how many people around him do. Perhaps his closest allies—Gennady Timchenko, Sergei Roldugin, or Yury Kovalchuk—have an idea, but they're not telling. Even so, it's easy to define what Putin doesn't want. The Russian president has repeatedly noted that his heroes are Peter the Great and Catherine the Great—monarchs enshrined in Russian collective memory as symbols of power. They didn't get their "Great" epithet by losing parts of Russian territory, all the less to an opponent deemed infinitely inferior.
The last person to allow the Russian sphere of influence to shrink was Mikhail Gorbachev, loathed by most Russians to the point of voting him the least popular leader of the 20th century, behind all odious communist dictators and the last tsar. In Russia, being a superpower is not only seen as a boastful privilege, but rather a prerequisite for survival. As political scientist Thomas Ambrosio wrote: "Russia seeks to be respected as a great power because of deep-seated beliefs about its own identity and its place in the world." Great powers don't cede their own territory to Ukraine.
Putin knows his options. Before annexation, he could have proclaimed victory anytime. He who controls the media controls the narrative. War is won when you say so, especially with objectives as vague as "denazification." That's not the case anymore. No narrative could ever explain why land marked on new—legally enforced—maps as unequivocally Russian is suddenly given away.
It's anyone's guess why Putin would choose to have his hands bound in such a manner. The annexation was announced in obvious haste just before the Ukrainian counter-offensive in Kherson, which suggests an impulsive decision. Maybe the president himself wanted to safeguard his invasion against potential dissent, or hawks in his inner circle convinced him to do so.
Putin cannot withdraw from "new Russian territories" unless he wants to enter history as a weak leader who allowed parts of Russia to be lost. Ukraine won't surrender those areas either. We might see ceasefires, agreements, or negotiations. Yet the war will only end with one side defeated through military means and forced to accept conditions dictated by the adversary, or it will turn into a frozen conflict dragging on for years to come.
Neither the Chinese peace plan nor any other plan can change that. Vladimir Putin has deliberately put himself in a position he can't abandon without losing face. While he's at the helm, his PR trap won't allow any compromise. The sooner the international community understands it, the better.
Josef Bouska is a writer and communications consultant.
The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.
Uncommon Knowledge
Newsweek is committed to challenging conventional wisdom and finding connections in the search for common ground.
Newsweek is committed to challenging conventional wisdom and finding connections in the search for common ground.
