A Dark Winter Is Coming for Ukraine | Opinion

From the day Russian President Vladimir Putin authorized his war of aggression against Ukraine, the Biden administration has devoted itself to explaining why it's important for the United States to help Kyiv resist the Russian military onslaught. Having dealt with issues related to Ukraine as former President Barack Obama's vice president, President Joe Biden has taken command of the effort. One could make the case that sustaining Ukraine's military campaign was Biden's top foreign policy priority—that is, until Oct. 7, when Hamas slaughtered more than 1,400 people in Israel.

In the first year of the war, Biden didn't really have much work to do. The heavy Russian bombardment, the siege of Mariupol, and the repeated war crimes perpetrated by Russian troops were such a shock to the conscience that Americans by and large were already convinced that Washington and its European allies should hit Putin and hold him accountable for a grisly violation of international law. You didn't need to work at a reputable public relations firm on Madison Avenue to recognize that "stand up to the bully Putin" was a decent enough selling point for the administration. The same could be said for the Europeans, whose leaders suddenly had to come to terms with the fact that 21st century Europe wasn't as enlightened as they assumed.

Yet 21 months after the war started, it's becoming more difficult for U.S. policymakers to make their case for endless Ukrainian support. The American people are still willing to provide military aid to Ukraine, but the numbers are getting lower as the fighting grinds on. In July 2022, the Chicago Council on Global Affairs found that 72 percent of Americans supported sending arms and other military supplies to the Ukrainians; by last month, that figure dropped to 63 percent. The war in Ukraine is now a partisan issue, with the same Chicago Council survey measuring an 18-point dip over the same period among Republicans on the question of whether arms donations to Kyiv were appropriate.

A similar mood is percolating in the GOP-controlled House of Representatives. In September, nearly half of the Republican conference voted to cut $300 million in security assistance to Kyiv (the amendment failed). In a sign of where the House GOP is right now, the lower chamber passed a supplemental funding bill introduced by Speaker Mike Johnson that provides about $14 billion in aid to Israel while leaving Ukraine aid for another day—a decision that puts him on a collision course with his colleague in the Senate, Minority Leader Mitch McConnell.

Meanwhile, thousands of miles from Washington, D.C., the Ukrainian counteroffensive appears to be on its last legs. Before the campaign began in June, Ukrainian officials had high hopes—press forward to the Sea of Azov, split Russian-occupied territory in two, and over time isolate Russian forces in Crimea—which would make it more difficult for Moscow to defend in perpetuity. Five months later, none of those objectives have been achieved. Russia still occupies around 20 percent of Ukrainian territory. The Russian army's thick defensive lines, particularly the miles upon miles of landmines, have been an albatross hanging over the Ukrainians' necks. The limited gains on the ground have come at a big loss, and the gains themselves are so insignificant that a magnifying glass is required to spot them.

While the Russians have their own problems at the tactical level, they also have more firepower than the Ukrainians. Quantity and mass are making up for some of the extreme deficiencies in quality. Out of sheer necessity, Moscow is pouring more resources into its defense industrial base with an emphasis on churning out munitions for a long war of attrition. One can't say the same for the other side, which means the Ukrainian army will likely be forced to conserve ammunition instead of firing as liberally as it has. "Sufficient ammunition to sustain this rate of fire is not going to be forthcoming as NATO stockpiles deplete, and production rates for ammunition remain too low to meet this level of demand," Jack Watling of the Royal United Services Institute wrote last month.

Ukrainian officials put on a brave face in public as they travel to Western capitals and lobby for more military support. But behind closed doors, they're frustrated on a number of levels. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky has long believed the West is giving his army just enough supplies to stave off a Russian victory, but not enough for Ukraine to win. Zelensky can be a remarkably effective and charismatic advocate for Ukraine's cause, but he isn't immune to missteps. Sometimes he comes off as ungrateful, no more so than during this year's NATO heads-of-state summit, when he lambasted the Alliance for failing to give Kyiv a specific timeline for membership (that outburst almost caused a diplomatic crisis with the U.S. ). Zelensky is apparently unwilling to hear bad news and is intent on fighting the war until the very end. "He deludes himself," one of Zelensky's advisers told TIME. "We're out of options. We're not winning. But try telling him that."

If all of this sounds like doom-and-gloom for the Ukrainians, it's not meant to be. The Russians aren't exactly on a strong footing either. Putin's dreams of colonizing Ukraine are just that—dreams. Strategically, Russia is weaker today than it was before the war began, with Russian officials relying on China to bail them out and approaching Iran and North Korea for military aid. The Russian military has taken a beating, with the U.S. in August estimating close to 300,000 casualties.

What it does tell us, though, is that Zelensky's maximalist objective of winning the war against Russian militarily might be as delusional as Putin's fantastical ambitions of resurrecting the Russian Empire.

Daniel R. DePetris is a fellow at Defense Priorities and a syndicated foreign affairs columnist at the Chicago Tribune.

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.