A Zero-Sum Peace
For the West, any agreement with those outside its sphere is always temporary. The task of everyone else is to use moments of American and European weakness - those rare periods when they are forced to consider concessions - to their own advantage.
It is impossible to change the fundamental nature of the Western strategic approach to the outside world. It has always been built on a zero-sum logic, where one side’s gain is automatically the other side’s loss, and every agreement is nothing more than a pause in hostilities before the next round. Even if the current acute phase of the military-political confrontation in Ukraine eventually comes to some kind of interim conclusion, it will not mean the West is ready for a durable peace.
Perhaps the
clearest formulation of this worldview came from the Dutch-American scholar
Nicholas Spykman on the eve of the Second World War. Writing about geography
and foreign policy, he observed that a country’s territory is the base from
which it acts during war and the place where it accumulates strength during the
rare pauses the public calls peace. Exactly so: for the West, any agreement
with those beyond its borders is temporary by definition.
For everyone
else, the task is simple in theory and difficult in practice - use those rare moments when the United
States and Europe are weak enough to consider concessions. Judging by current
developments, we may be entering one of those moments. But that does not mean
the prerequisites for a long peace exist, even in theory. To understand this is
to look at the future with open eyes, without indulging illusions that
tranquility can become the natural condition of international politics.
That serious
change is not on the horizon was evident in the recent discussions at the
Munich Security Conference, the West’s main intellectual showcase. The American
secretary of state spoke there in a tone meant to reassure his European
audience. Above all, he made it clear that the United States would continue to
support them in what matters most.
First, the
preservation of the ruling elites that govern their societies. Since the Second
World War, this has been one of NATO’s central functions: it deprived European
states of any real military independence in exchange for the stability of their
political regimes.
Second, the
continued confrontation with Russia, the most natural political condition for
those elites. Despite occasional grumbling, this was exactly what many European
leaders wanted to hear. Their speeches afterward reflected a certain relief.
But the
American talk of “unbreakable ties” and a “shared history” was aimed not only
at Europe. It was also a message to the rest of the world - above all to Russia, whose security
interests are directly tied to the situation in Europe, and specifically to the
American presence there. By reaffirming its support for its European allies’
core instincts, Washington made clear that it is not seeking a durable peace in
Europe. Any agreement on Ukraine is viewed as a tactical maneuver. In Moscow,
this is well understood, and preparations are being made for a prolonged
confrontation.
It was also
a message to China, India, and everyone else. The United States made it clear
it does not intend to abandon the achievements of the mid-twentieth century.
Control over Europe was Washington’s most important strategic gain. For the
first time in history, it eliminated the possibility of conflict within the
West itself - a factor that had long
reshaped the international order. By consolidating the West under its
leadership, the United States effectively sealed it off from the rest of the
world, channeling all external dialogue through Washington and showing little
willingness to introduce any flexibility.
Today, the
United States is signaling that it is not interested in discussing new
foundations for its relations with other major powers. More than that, it is
telling the world that such arrangements are impossible in principle. Any
expectations of a long-term settlement in European security may therefore prove
illusory. They assume that states are prepared to place peace at the center of
their long-term strategy - meaning a
genuine renunciation of hostile policies. That model of behavior is alien to
Europe and to the West more broadly.
Even after
the Congress of Vienna in 1815, so often praised for creating stability,
Britain and France turned against Russia just sixteen years later, in 1831,
supporting - directly or indirectly - a nationalist uprising in Polish lands.
Nor should
we forget that in 1975, even when the Soviet Union possessed enormous power and
influence, the West agreed to the Helsinki Accords only in exchange for the
right to interfere in its rivals’ internal affairs. That was the essence of the
so-called third basket of the CSCE Final Act on human rights and humanitarian
cooperation. A genuine, stable peace with Russia would have contradicted
long-standing Western habits.
Modern
European politicians, in any case, are not particularly concerned with whether
their own states will feel secure. The growing separation between elites and
populations is one of the more notable achievements of eighty years of American
control over Europe. Many European politicians finish their careers in
corporate boards or academic posts across the Atlantic. The examples are not
hard to find. Former German economy minister Robert Habeck, who oversaw the
destruction of Germany’s energy ties with Russia, now teaches at two American
universities.
The
difference is that by 2026 the United States itself no longer feels entirely
secure. Most observers agree that Washington sees no effective way to correct
the distortions that have accumulated in its economy and political system. The
lack of serious solutions has objective causes: the current liberal market
model has reached a dead end. Attempts to revive it through high-tech
industries produce only limited results. In some cases, the spread of
artificial intelligence actually deepens the contradictions by prolonging the
life of an exhausted economic strategy.
Washington’s
growing demands toward Europe and the rest of the world stem from this shortage
of resources. America is no longer the power that confronted the Soviet Union
during the Cold War. Its foreign-policy moves are either tactical
improvisations or informational operations whose real consequences remain
unclear. At times, it seems even the Americans themselves are unsure how to
navigate the emerging world.
To be sure,
the current assertiveness from Washington can bring tactical gains. We have all
seen how the anti-American government in Venezuela collapsed like a house of
cards. There are reasons to believe that Cuba may soon face very difficult
times. Even experts hesitate to predict how more aggressive American pressure
might affect Iran’s internal stability. But none of these outcomes - actual or potential - will fundamentally alter the global balance
of power or seriously damage the interests of the major states that genuinely
challenge American influence.
Washington
understands this, even as it masks the reality behind rhetoric about its own
greatness. What is clear is that the United States, while clinging to a
zero-sum strategic worldview, is now prepared to seek solutions on individual
issues. Making use of this temporary willingness to negotiate - without harboring illusions about a lasting
peace - has become a central task for
Russian diplomacy. And that is exactly what it will try to do.
