Commentary

Walter Zaryckyj

June 13, 2022

During the first hours of the Russo-Ukrainian War, when it became clear that Vladimir Putin was mounting a full scale 'invasion' rather than any one of the smaller anticipated 'incursions' into Ukraine, most - though not all - of the leading players in Euro-Atlantic' political, military, think tank and media circles (for the Russians, the euphemistic 'West') took to the airwaves to make some rather dire forecasts and dispense some rather dire advice to the Ukrainians. It was predicted that border cities in the north and east as well as coastal cities in the south might fall within a day or two and that the capital Kyiv  would be forced to surrender within a week. President Zelensky was advised to move the seat of government to Ukraine's westernmost large city, Lviv, or better (worse) yet, set up shop in exile. The Ukrainian armed forces, in turn, were told to head for the Carpathian mountains and convert to insurgency-style warfare.

As the hours turned into days, it became apparent that the dire predictions of swift failure might be off base and that the grim advice given to the Ukrainian government to evacuate was premature. Of the northern and eastern cities (oblast centers) like Kharkiv, Sumy, Chernihiv, Zhitomir or Black/Azov Sea port-towns like Odesa, Mykolayiv, Kherson and Mariupil, only Kherson had been occupied and its occupation was proving to be no certain fact, given that thousands of Ukrainians in the coastal city were staging protests against the Russian invaders. Meanwhile the dreaded quick drive into Kyiv seemed stalled after preparatory air assaults on the airports of the capital had not worked out as planned. With this in mind, President Zelensky not only decided to stay in Kyiv, but opted to use his office on Bankova (in central Kyiv) to give daily/nightly briefings to the Ukrainian nation as a gesture of defiance.

As the days turned into weeks, the dire predictions were proving to be shockingly wrong and the advice to abandon Kyiv truly ill conceived. In the south, a fierce battle in Mykolayiv had not only held up any advance to Odesa, but had thrown the Russian forces back upon Kherson. In the east, the attack on Kharkiv had gone badly enough to warrant a decision by Russian forces to bypass it. And in the north, Russians had begun a 'grand re-positioning' in city after city - including Kyiv itself - in what looked like a 'not so grand withdrawal'. Meanwhile, Zelensky was proving audacious enough to turn his briefings to the nation into walking tours of Kyiv and took to using zoom webinars with various friendly governments to drum up support/assistance for Ukraine's defense needs and to assure them that his government was firmly in control of matters in Kyiv.

The unfolding of the mentioned cascade of events initially elicited disbelief (''can we verify the reports?'), followed by a period of cautious skepticism ('Russians may not be fully committed yet') and finally a full throated admission of astonishment (when the Russians actually began leaving the northern cities). Once 'astonishment' and 'amazement' entered the picture, an inevitable moment of self reflection occurred. The Western media turned back to its pundits as well as to the 'myriad experts' from the political, military, think-tank and academic circles in the Euro-Atlantic community (indeed, in the 'global democratic' community generally) and asked them a thoroughly blunt question: "How could all of you have gotten the whole matter so wrong?"

The question launched a veritable tsunami of 'mea culpas'. Media outlet after media outlet witnessed a gnashing of the teeth followed by a lot of swallowing of pride; a whole series of graphics that showed the 'glorious Russian army' advancing along the entire 'Northern Front' were suddenly pulled off countless screens accompanied by apologies from various analysts who had kept 'ceding the territory'. The only voices that were exempted from the self flagellation were those few 'doubting Thomases' - essentially American generals with actual experience in commanding US or NATO troops in Europe during the last three decades - who from the beginning posited their own query: "Does Putin really think that he can take all of Ukraine with 200 thousand troops when it would take 300 thousand just to capture and hold Kyiv?"

As it happened to work out, once the self-flagellation subsided (or the Western media got tired of simply beating 'its own'), the self same commanders were allowed to ask a follow up set of questions: Were the Russians really this bad? Was it possible that the Russian army was only suited for parades on Red Square to celebrate World War II Victory Days? The new queries coincided with news that Russia's 'repositioning gambit' was turning into an open, headlong retreat from all points north in Ukraine (leaving a set of atrocities on full display to be judged in the future as war crimes). At that moment, the 'Russia has proved to be weaker than expected' narrative leapt into the lead by a wide margin.

While the 'weak Russia' storyline firmly took hold of the air waves, another narrative quietly and tenuously appeared alongside. The parallel narrative took to shifting the center of attention from Russia's foibles in the war to the astounding resourcefulness /resilience the Ukrainians were exhibiting – an intriguing minor miracle, given that Ukraine until that point had been treated as an object rather than as a subject capable of having an impact of its own on matters. Equally intriguing/important, the most impressive version of the new storyline was one that placed the do-or-die tenacity of the Ukrainian armed forces (in contrast to the undisciplined childlike behavior of the Russian military) in a firmly historical context, citing a seminal experience: the Mongol invasions of 1239-1241. Unlike the Eastern Slav city-states (best way to describe them) of the north – including the newly minted Moscovy, all of whom submitted to the yoke of the Khans for the next two hundred years, Kyivans fought to the bitter end and endured a Carthage-like destruction of their beloved city state nestled on shores of the northern Dnipro only to emerge an identical two centuries later in the southern Dnipro river basin as the Zaporizhian 'Kozaky' (the Turkish word for 'freemen').

Though clearly an insightful construct, the 'Ukrainian resilience/tenacity' narrative was unable to gain altitude because in a matter of days, the Russians indicated that they were no longer interested in the northern cities or northern eastern cities (and for that matter, by omission, the southern cities beyond Kherson); their objective had always been and remained the Donbas -ie- attaching the Ukrainian-held territories in the region to the now recognized 'sovereign' DNR and LNR. There was no admission of any errors or flaws in the mission. Rather, the Kremlin, in a matter of fact tone, explained that in the 'first phase of the war', the task was to exhaust the Ukrainian forces thoroughly throughout Ukraine; in 'phase two' (the second mouth), Russian forces would break through the Ukrainian defenses in Izyum in northern Donbas, do the same in Mariupil in southern Donbas, proceed to encircle the Ukrainian forces in central Donbas, fight a classic tank-on tank-battle in a category they excel and ultimately seize control of the entire area in the aftermath. As the Western media quaintly summarized the emerging headline of the war: "The Russians are finally getting down to business!"

If for a time, Russian bravado prevailed and recaptured the headlines, the war, presently in its fourth month, has seen the sheen off Russia's blustering pronouncements of its 'phase two' war aims dramatically fade – severely eroded by the sinking of the Russian Black sea flagship Moskva, continuing reports of Russian generals getting killed as well as Russian command posts being turned into rubble and very uneven or 'tepid' progress in Donbas despite all the hype about Russia’s vaunted artillery. In its stead, interestingly enough, a tweaked version of the 'Ukrainian resilience' theme has quietly reappeared as a serious nightly news talking point – with the critical issue being whether the Ukrainians possess the reserve fortitude to do a repeat of their 'victory in Kyiv' in Donbas. Equally interesting, Western media has focused once more on a historical perspective in attempting to measure the capacity of Ukrainians for  'sustained tenacity'. In a particularly poignant case in point, a recent interview has featured a Donbas farmer working in an armored tractor with his combat class helmet on, trying to get his seeds planted despite all the devastation around him – beaming with pride at doing his duty to the homeland and professing that his Kozak ancestors would have expected no less.

The noted phenomenon deserves to be heartily lauded and energetically pursued. In fact, the approach should be recognized as offering real hope for finally reaching beyond 'flavor of the week' discussion cues and getting a handle on the general direction of a conflict that is already defining the early 21st century and may end up determining much more. For one, few observers of the struggle (including the Russians themselves) would now deny that a reprise by the Ukrainians of their 'victory in Kyiv' (constituting a confirmation of their capacity for 'sustained resilience') would effectively change the parameters/nature of the war; at that point, even DNR, LNR and Crimea (all still considered by most of the world as Ukrainian territory) would be in play from a military point of view. And the blowback into Russia could equal that generated in the aftermath of the Russo-Japanese War of 1905 (where, incidentally, a perceived weaker power also bested a perceived stronger power). Two, Ukrainian history is precisely the place where one would explore the 'reprise' matter; it possesses a very rich record with regard to the issue of a 'national predilection for persistent perseverance in the face of frightening odds' – actually, much too rich. For purposes of example, four key episodes in the 'story of Ukraine' would probably suffice.