Kyiv street sign recruiting for the Ukrainian army, April 23, 2024. Photo: Nicolas Tenzer
The successful Ukrainian offensive in the Kursk region of Russia was a source of surprise to many Western and Ukrainian military observers alike. Certainly, the disorganization of the Russian army, the unpreparedness, inefficiency, incompetence and corruption of Russia’s civil and military administrations, and the shockwaves it caused in Russia before the affair was hushed up, came as no surprise. It was not unexpected, after the bombing of Russian military bases and fuel depots, that such an offensive should also be successful. The massive bombardment of at least three major Russian ammunition and missiles depots, destroying an estimated value of several hundred million euros, showed an impressive Ukrainian trajectory that is certainly not over.
However, we are not yet at the stage where Kyiv would be in a position to launch an action of this type on a much larger scale, enabling it to conquer major regions of Russia. Above all, it has to contend with Moscow’s advances on its own territory—not major, but regular nonetheless—due to the lack of sufficient Allied weapons and, above all, of authorization to strike deep into Russian territory with American weapons or with US-made components.
But what was surprising was not so much the success as the fact that the Ukrainians had decided to go ahead with it. Much has been said about the reasons that led President Zelenskyy to make this choice. The first might be to send a symbolic message not only to the Russians, but also to Western capitals: Ukraine has room to maneuver and is capable of humiliating Russia. Consequently, no one can force it to limit itself, under the false and unworthy pretext of an alleged risk of escalation or crossing red lines. Moreover, it is not certain that Washington and Berlin have viewed this initiative with satisfaction. Kyiv is also sending them the following message, which I already perceived more than a year ago in Kyiv: “You have largely abandoned us, and tomorrow we will become strategically autonomous. We don’t want to depend on anyone, as this would be detrimental to our security”.
The second, related reason was to show the Ukrainian people and army that the country still had considerable resources—and, despite other bad news, this offensive has, albeit momentarily, boosted Ukrainian morale. The Ukrainian people are rightly overwhelmingly opposed to negotiation that would lead to the abandonment of territories, despite their exhaustion. What better signal to give them than to show that Kyiv can regain control.
A third reason, which is sometimes invoked but seems to me to be of little or marginal importance, would be to seek, when the time comes, a bargaining chip with the territories occupied by Moscow’s forces. However, there is nothing to indicate that Kyiv is looking forward to such discussions.
A fourth reason could be to show the Russians that, after all, living under temporary Ukrainian “occupation” is far more pleasant and reassuring than living under the permanent, ineffective, brutal and corrupt domination of the Moscow regime. This may seem a secondary reason, but in the long run it’s an essential one for communicating Kyiv to the Russians themselves.
We propose to go a step further and outline how a medium- and long-term strategy in this direction could be particularly fruitful, not in the perspective of territorial discussions—quite simply, as we have often established here, because this is out of the question and should not even be suggested or mentioned—but in that of continuous, large-scale, long-term pressure on Russia. Let there be no ambiguity here either: this cannot be the strategy of Ukraine alone, but of the Allies as a whole. It is the cornerstone of a strategy for disarming and controlling Russia that must find specific modalities, different by definition from those devised by the Allies towards Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan.
In a welcome change of language, President Zelenskyy now speaks clearly of a “plan for victory” rather than a “peace plan”—even if the term “peace conference” remains. We have repeatedly shown here why the language of peace is dangerous, because it suggests that there could be negotiations. In fact, there are those who, while presenting themselves as defenders of Ukraine, have no hesitation in asking for more weapons for Ukraine, so that Kyiv will be better placed for future negotiations. This rhetoric is particularly unwelcome, as it implies that Russia might not be defeated. Let’s beware of those sham friends of Ukraine who still remain in the in-between.
Why Russia must be (partially) occupied
Let’s be perfectly clear on two points. Firstly, no one can seriously defend the occupation of Russia or the capture of Moscow or St Petersburg by the Allied armies. Some might dream of it, such as a Russian friend of mine who has been in exile for fifteen years, and who confided to me in 2007 that, as a child under the USSR, he would have hoped to see his country “liberated” by American forces, such was the repression suffered by his family. This cannot be the subject of a strategy. Circumstances dictate that Putin’s Russia cannot suffer the same fate as Nazi Germany or Imperial Japan in 1945. Secondly, unlike Moscow, Kyiv has no imperial ambitions. It has no intention of annexing Russian territories, but merely demands the integrity of its own borders, recognized under international law. The occupation of the Kursk region is not intended to last beyond Ukraine’s victory over Russia and the resolution of the conflict (justice for the criminals, return of deported children and prisoners of war, reparations paid by Russia, security guarantees offered by the Allies and, in particular, Ukraine’s membership of NATO and then the EU).
It is precisely this last aspect that deserves our attention. Russia’s military defeat in Ukraine and the departure of all occupying forces from the regions it illegally occupies, including Crimea, are not the end of the process. Ukraine and its allies, who are the guarantors of its security for the foreseeable future, must ensure that all the conditions are in place for Moscow to comply with its obligations under international law. The return to Russia of the territories occupied by Ukraine can only take place at the end of this process, and not before.
It should also be recalled that the incursion into Russian territory by the Ukrainian army is perfectly in line with international law. It is a response to aggression. The law therefore authorizes Kyiv to take all military measures it deems necessary to respond to such aggression, including action within the aggressor’s territory, as long as—as is the case here—Ukraine does not deliberately target infrastructures and civilian populations, and its action is not accompanied by gratuitous exactions against individuals. The response of an aggressed country knows no territorial limits, and the same applies to the response of allied states that would come to its aid. This would be doubly illogical: on the one hand, the country under attack cannot restrict itself any more than the aggressor country; on the other, in strictly military terms, the response to aggression, to be effective in the long term, generally implies gaining a foothold on the enemy’s territory, not staying within its own borders.
So, if we try to project ourselves into the medium term and map out a strategy for Ukraine’s victory and Russia’s defeat, we are necessarily led to imagine both the expulsion of Russian forces from Ukraine and the multiplication of actions of the type carried out, albeit on a limited scale, in the Kursk region. The former are indispensable, but they will not suffice. The more the former multiply, the easier the latter will become. There will be a kind of dynamic in what is sometimes called Ukraine’s counter-offensive, but which should be defined rather as a form of offensive that goes beyond resistance and riposte. In military terms, this is what not only the Ukrainian generals need to bear in mind—and we trust they will—but also the Allies, who will need to condition their resources accordingly.
Admittedly, this may still seem a long way off today, but who in the Allied countries could have imagined Kursk three months ago? It may also seem dangerous, given the size of the Ukrainian territory still in Russian hands. We admit that the priority remains to give the Ukrainian armed forces the means to destabilize Russian positions in the Donbass and force them to retreat. This, along with the complete protection of Ukrainian skies, must certainly remain the Allies’ priority. It may also appear politically uncertain, given the culpable irresolution of governments that have yet to give Kyiv permission to strike deep into Russian territory with their weapons. But here too, we can’t help imagining a more reasonable attitude from the still reluctant Allies. Above all, we must consider what this would mean for the conditions at the end of the war, and understand that this scenario, which today seems utopian or implausible, would be profoundly rational and reasonable both militarily and politically.
In history, there are military-political chains of events in which war is not primarily a continuation of politics, as Clausewitz famously put it, but rather chains politics in its own dynamic, dictated by a political imperative. In the present case, if we accept that the victory of Ukraine and the defeat of Russia—one is inseparable from the other—are political objectives, then we need to understand the military conditions. These seem to me to imply a sufficiently comfortable advance of Ukrainian forces a little beyond the border. Not only would this put Ukraine and the Allies in a new military situation—though in any case a classic one—but, above all, it would create a relatively unprecedented political situation (although the Golan Heights could be cited as an example). While this configuration would obey the logic of military operations, it would also have an inseparable political logic.
A military and political strategy of limited penetration
Those who have been analyzing Russia’s war against Ukraine for the past ten years will remember that some so-called peacemakers, complacent towards Moscow, imagined that the Russian-occupied parts of the Donetsk and Luhansk regions would become buffer zones. These supposedly demilitarized zones—in reality occupied by pseudo-separatists, in reality agents of Moscow—would provide security for “both sides”—I have enough memories to recall that a series of Western leaders made this supposedly swaying rhetoric their own to avoid naming the sole aggressor: Russia. Even now, the Kremlin’s relays are demanding neutrality from Ukraine, which was its status before the Russian attack in 2014. There’s no need to go back over these infamous proposals, which put an end to Ukraine’s sovereignty over part of its territory, left part of its population under Russian yoke, deprived the 1.6 million Ukrainians displaced between 2014 and 2021 of any hope of return and, far from offering Kyiv any security, placed it directly under Russian threat. My revolt, and that of others at the time, found its confirmation in what has happened since February 24, 2022.
There are two reasons why I need to quickly evoke these old discussions. The first is that, to the best of my knowledge, no one at the time mentioned a buffer zone that would have included part of the Russian territories bordering Ukraine’s eastern border, as if it were legitimate in such a case for the buffer zones to be Ukrainian. The second concerned the very principle of a buffer zone, which we have seen to be based on illusions. It’s hard to believe that its advocates believed in it, and their sympathies were all too well known. These buffer zones were occupied, and the idea of placing them under the control or aegis of international forces made no practical or operational sense. In today's conditions of satellite surveillance, where every troop movement is closely observed, the very principle of a buffer zone can be questioned, provided of course that a potentially aggressed country can count on the military intervention of its allies in the event of an attack. A buffer zone changes nothing from that point of view: either the allies are resolute, or they are not.
This should have been their reaction in 2014, had they been serious about the “security assurances”—it wasn’t very dignified to say they weren’t guarantees—stipulated in the 1994 Budapest Memorandum, and had they not rushed to buy the separatists’ fiction. This was even truer for 2022: American and British intelligence services took seriously the build-up of Russian troops on the Ukrainian border, but had rejected any prospect of intervention in advance. This was the equivalent of giving Moscow a green light. A credible threat of intervention or, if that wasn’t enough, early intervention through targeted strikes on Russian forces entering Ukraine would have put an immediate end to the war and spared hundreds of thousands of casualties and endless destruction, even if it wouldn’t have immediately put an end to Russia’s occupation of parts of the Donbass and Crimea.
Today, we’re in an entirely different situation. It’s not a question of creating a buffer zone on Russian territory, except a very temporary one, but of achieving a military victory, which presupposes initially pushing Russian troops some distance away from Ukraine. This would be a way of signifying Russian defeat, putting the regime in a difficult position and being in a strong position to ensure that the elements mentioned above (justice, repatriation of children and prisoners, payment of damages, etc.) are implemented.
In the meantime, we also need to finalize Ukraine’s integration into NATO, which would benefit fully from the security guarantees offered by Article 5—although it should be remembered that these are not perfect, as they are not automatic and are subject to a decision by the Council of the Atlantic Alliance. The only prospect then is for everyone to return to their 1991 borders. This strategy of limited penetration is therefore both military and political. It is not a form of occupation, as it was after the Second World War—indeed, it would concern only a tiny fraction of Russian territory. It is part of a strategy for victory. We can all have doubts, in the present circumstances, about the Allies’ willingness to implement it. But the military and political dimensions must be clearly defined.
Building a founding narrative
Beyond these immediate military and political facts, it is essential to build a narrative for the future, a historical and political narrative. It’s a victorious narrative in principle, but also one of deterrence. It’s about showing that Russia, even if it is a nuclear power and, by stealth, a permanent member of the United Nations Security Council, can be defeated. As I have repeated both here and in my latest book, Our War, there can be no semi-victory for Ukraine, and therefore no semi-defeat for Russia. An intact Russia, which would not have to pay for its crimes and which could continue to threaten its neighbors, would not be a truly defeated Russia. Nor would it be a Russia that could gradually find its way back, albeit uncertain at this stage, to freedom.
For a long time, well before 2022, I’ve been arguing in favor of blowing up all the so-called paper red lines invoked by the Russian regime. Ukraine, incredibly courageously and intelligently, has done far more than the Allies. The attacks on Russian soil and the occupation of the Kursk region are the cutting edge. If the Allies truly wish to see Russia defeated, and consider it necessary to build a methodical, long-term strategy to this end, they must actively support the Ukrainian government’s efforts with their own resources, without fearing the prospect of war with Russia, which the latter cannot afford because its leaders know perfectly well that it could not sustain a conflict with NATO armies. I have often expressed my strong doubts about the existence of such a strategy, and worse still, about the willingness of the major Alliance countries to build one. But if NATO countries are to fulfill their mission in terms of future security, they must do so.
Let's imagine for a moment the opposite scenario, where Russia is not completely defeated, i.e. not forced to hand over the criminals, repatriate the children and pay the war damages. What would our future security look like? What respect would citizens of democratic countries, let alone criminal regimes, still have for international law and the very idea of justice? What would an international order be like if the culprits of the worst possible mass crimes went untried, especially the leaders and those most responsible in the chain of command?
That’s why we have to assume that, in line with what he had repeatedly expressed and, in principle, with the commitment of democratic leaders, President Zelenskyy’s “plan for victory”, by definition non-public for obvious reasons, includes these elements. The main question now is what military and diplomatic conditions are required to put these principles into practice. That’s an enforcement issue.
Our own military action is driven by political objectives, not the other way round. We cannot conclude a priori, as some supposed realists have long done, that this is impossible. Our military action must also take place in a broader historical context: by taking action, we are writing a page of history and leaving a testament. This will, unless it heralds the most terrible new beginnings, cannot be a blank page or open to redaction by uncertain and unscrupulous heirs.