The author is the FT’s contributing editor and writes the Chartbook newsletter
In the first 12 months of the war in Ukraine, Russia’s condemnation and Kyiv’s rhetorical support by European and US governments has been strong and largely unanimous. But the economic numbers tell a different story. Judged against current standards of potential and history, the war looks like an exercise in scoring.
This should not be a sign of strategic failure. Although the moral force of war may require absolute commitment, total war is the dream of fascists or revolutionaries. For the rest of us, total war must be an absolute nightmare. A war that does not anticipate the destruction of the entire order must weigh the means and the ends, the costs and the benefits, even in death. And this is true for both fighters and allies.
By 2022, Ukraine has experienced a catastrophic contraction of its economy by about a third, but it is still carrying its war effort to about 35 percent of its gross domestic product. This is an effort that can be compared to the world wars of the 20th century. It threatens to turn Ukraine into an inflationary catastrophe and become highly dependent on foreign aid. But even for Ukraine, like the fighters of the 20th century, there are limits. Until now, Ukraine fought the war mainly with volunteers. Forced conscription is held in reserve. Russian gas continues to flow to Europe through Ukrainian pipelines. This is the compromise you make, if you want to keep the home front and good relations with your European friends.
Russia is also under tension. But despite western sanctions, the economy will only contract by 2 percent or more in 2022 and is expected to rebound this year. The military industrial complex works around the clock, but for most Russians everyday life goes on.
To the wider world, China is very cautious about its support for Russia. And despite all the rhetoric of Europe and America, judging by the standards of history, aid to Ukraine is quite modest. The latest figures from the Kiel Institute for the World Economy tell a clear story.
Over the past 12 months, the US spent 0.21 percent of GDP on military support for Ukraine. That’s slightly less than what was done in an average year in Afghanistan’s painful intervention. In Iraq, spend three times more. The Korean War cost the US 13 times more. Lend-Lease aid to the British empire in the second world war was up to 15 times more proportional.
To see Europeans doing more, you only have to go back to 1991. To support the American-led operation to remove Saddam Hussein from the oil fields in Kuwait, Germany gave three times what it offered to Ukraine in bilateral aid.
A cynic will conclude that the unspoken objective of the west is not only to prevent a Russian victory, but to avoid a decisive Ukrainian success, for fear of escalation by the regime of Vladimir Putin. If this is true, it is jarringly at odds with US and European public rhetoric. To assume as much is not only distasteful but raises the question of whether we really credit western leaders with the strategic nous to deploy resources in such measured doses. Experiences in Iraq and Afghanistan hardly suggest anything. Which suggests another, sobering interpretation.
Western governments can sincerely support the victory of Ukraine, but they cannot match their goals and objectives. Reservations about certain weapons systems and the limitations of western stockpiles play a role. But no factor should inhibit the flow of money more freely. Instead of strategic objections or political opposition of principle, it is complacency, lack of reflection, small-minded budgetary thinking and procedural wrangling that drives the wedge between intention and action.
For the west, this interpretation is even less flattering than the cynical view. Kyiv and its supporters are more than happy, as they hope that with continuous lobbying, they can persuade the west to keep their promises. But what if it is also an illusion?
Isn’t the gap between western rhetoric and delivery in Ukraine all too familiar? World-respected governments support the lofty goals of global Covid-19 vaccination, sustainable development and Ukraine’s sovereignty, but they refuse to provide the means even if they comprise a fraction of GDP and a high rate of return. In contrast, the same government collected huge sums of money to rescue business interests and protect its own voters from shocks such as the 2008 financial crisis, Covid and the collateral damage of Putin’s invasion.
After a year of war, what constitutes western solidarity is less than the gap between declared intentions and actual delivery. The lack of decisive western support means that the balance on the battlefield and on the Ukrainian front remains agonizingly precarious. Through modest intervention, the western and European powers in particular voluntarily eliminate the possibility of influencing events – so one suspects that they do not believe in their ability to shape a complex and violent conflict like the one in Ukraine.
They also, however, lack the courage to admit as much. So he claimed a bold goal but failed to provide the means. The result is hypocrisy and impotence on a historical scale.