The war in Ukraine is but the latest conflict at the start of a century that turned out to be rather impetuous, from the Middle East and Africa to the Caucasus, Central Asia and the Far East. It broke out just as mankind breathed a sigh of relief, acting as if the (coronavirus) pandemic was over, while others fear the new pandemic is already here. Will wars and pandemics become the “new normal” for the human race?
The war in Ukraine, from failed blitzkrieg to war of attrition
Right now, you need a minimum of four colors to efficiently draw on the map the situation in Ukraine. One color stands for Russia, one for Ukraine, the third for Russian-held territories in Ukraine prior to February 24, 2022 (this includes Crimea, for instance), and the fourth for the territories Russia invaded from February onwards. Naturally, another two or three colors can be added for increased accuracy: one color for the territories reclaimed by Ukraine on the counteroffensive (which are rather unassuming considering all the fuss the media has made), and another color for the strips of land each of the two parties claims to control, but which independent sources find it hard to confirm they belong de facto to any of the two camps.
The outcome is a sort of x-ray that reveals a tissue area with marginal residue. From the two areas in Donbas and Crimea, the disease has spread to the north, south and east. The borderlands are now intertwined and have metastasized, spreading across an arc of some 100-150 kilometers between Kharkiv and Mykolaiv, the city on the Bug River that Romanians last heard about on the news eighty years ago, when the Romanian and German armies had attacked the Soviet Union. The entire frontline created by the Russian aggression now measures over 1,000 kilometers, which means that, from 2014 to date, Russia has occupied over 100,000 square kilometers in Ukraine – nearly half of Romania’s surface.
Colors will make the map meaningful, but they are the key to understanding what kind of outcome we can expect for the war in Ukraine. In future negotiations, the two sides have several options, depending on the border they might find acceptable: a return to the border before the Russian annexations of 2014, the borders prior to February, 2022, or preserving the current borders, meaning the frontline mentioned above will separate Russia from Ukraine.
All these negotiation options represent a separate possible outcome, which the famous Bulgarian political scientist, Ivan Krastev, has called “the peace treaty scenario”. Germany has argued in favor of this option and has already called for a truce. Italy too has proposed a political resolution of this conflict. France speaks of an agreement that should exclude “the humiliation of Russia”. At the opposite end of the table are the supporters of the “justice” scenario, who first and foremost demand Russia be punished severely for its acts of aggression against Ukraine. This group of countries includes Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia and the United Kingdom, countries that share the experience of bitter relations with the Russia, either during or after its communist phase. Poland was disbanded as a state by the Russian Empire and by Stalin’s USSR, in collusion with Nazi Germany, whereas the Baltic States were completely incorporated into the Soviet Union. In turn, the United Kingdom has developed an instinctive opposition to the emergence of a “Russian Empire”, considering its international standing deteriorated in the 20th century. And the ingressions of the USSR or Russia into its own backyard – the 1978 Markov case and the Skripal poisonings four decades later, to mention just the beginning and the end of timeline – have all but added fuel to the fire.
The list of countries that position themselves on either side of the current conflict, the “peace treaty” camp and the “justice” camp, does not include two key countries: the United States and Ukraine. The Economist writes about the conflicting statements of Lloyd Austin, the US Secretary of Defense. Upon visiting Kyiv, he positioned himself on the side of “justice”, arguing that the West’s strategy is for Ukraine “to win the war”, leaving Russia “weak and vulnerable”. Three weeks later, however, at the end of talks held with his Russian counterpart, Sergey Shoigu, Secretary Austin seems to have switched to the “peace treaty camp”, calling instead for an “immediate ceasefire”. As regards Ukraine, president Volodymyr Zelensky says, on the one hand, that “Ukraine will fight until it recaptures all of its territories”, while on the other hand refers to the possibility of starting negotiations “as soon as Russia withdraws to the border prior to February 24, 2022”.
There’s also an obvious element of reciprocity to this equation. Irrespective of which camp they chose to back, Western states all agree that, in the end, “it is Ukraine that should decide how far it is willing to go”. As a matter of principle, this might seem fair, but for its part, Ukraine is decisively reliant on how much support the West is willing to offer. Therefore, the outcome of the war is ultimately connected to the readiness of both Europe and America. It will also depend on how fast Western countries “grow tired” – as Volodymyr Zelensky’s chief negotiator, Mykhailo Podolyak phrased it – of urging Russia to resist. Of course, it also depends on just how far president Putin is willing to go, since until now the Kremlin leader refrained from explicitly mentioning the purpose of his war, in both territorial and political terms.
Nevertheless, regardless of which scenario will prevail, the end of the war is nowhere in sight. Russia continues to press the attack and Ukraine keeps resisting, with massive support from the West. The United States alone have earmarked fourteen billion dollars to Kyiv. The US Congress has disbursed an additional forty billion. This kind of money recalls the fifty billion dollars (albeit in WW2-era currency) the USA provided to the Soviet Union in weapons and equipment to help its fight against Nazi Germany. The conflict in Ukraine seems to protract itself, at least this is the public perception. Western societies have not grown tired – not yet – and have assimilated the war into an inevitable reality for them. At the same time, the fallout from the war impacted energy markets, threatening to disrupt food supply chains as well. The psychological effects of the war, which are yet to be quantified, are particularly significant in Europe, a region that since the end of the Second World War has never been more confident that history has entered a phase of endless troubles, which are seemingly quick to multiply.
The monkeypox and the fear of a new pandemic
The recent “monkeypox” outbreak has sparked waves of panic across continents due to its alleged potential of becoming the new pandemic. Over May 7 – 25, a few hundred cases of monkeypox were reported outside Africa in almost 20 countries, most of which (119) in Spain. With symptoms similar to the smallpox, the virus is endemic in Central Africa and has two strains: a more aggressive one in Congo, and a second one often encountered in countries in Western Africa – Equatorial Guinea, Nigeria or Cameroon. The one that got out is the milder of the two strains. According to the World Health Organization, even in its most severe form, the virus very seldom results in the death of healthy adults, and so far no monkeypox-related fatalities have been reported beyond the African continent.
Moreover, there is already a viable “monekypox” vaccine in several countries that have sizable stockpiles. The vaccine seems to work even after individuals get infected. Some experts claim that it was the elimination of anti-smallpox vaccination (a disease that has been eradicated in Europe) that determined the re-emergence of this type of pox. All things considered, it is very unlikely the “monkeypox” would lead to lockdowns similar to the ones introduced during the coronavirus pandemic.
Still, there’s been a sufficient number of headlines and newsreels presenting “monkeypox” as “the new possible pandemic”, to say nothing of conspiracy theories that have started flooding the Internet in parallel. It makes no difference the virus is not as contagious as SARS-COV-2. Nor does the fact that, apparently, the virus doesn’t undergo mutations as often as the coronavirus does. People are susceptible to their recent experience with Covid, and tend to see danger even where there is none.
It is this very string of events in recent years that makes people prone to such reactions. Hardly has the coronavirus pandemic toned down that Europe is again affected by a new, unprecedented crisis in the last decades, a primitive war that has unsettled the life of millions. Furthermore, the Kremlin leader’s crude political choices have got people talking about nuclear strikes, conjuring old fears dating back to the Cold War and the 1986 Chernobyl crisis. The economic effects of the pandemic, compounded by the war, are negative and huge: inflation, unprecedented hikes in electricity and gas bills. It’s no wonder that, to many people, the lesson taught by the pandemic and the war is that the unexpected is the new normal.
The Noah solution: “When collective salvation is out of hand, all that’s left is for each to build an Ark”.
And no matter how overwhelming the two modern-day “arrhythmias” (the pandemic and the war) in Europe might seem, there is something else that has become deeply ingrained in our consciousness. There’s additional pressure that became evident even before the pandemic and the war, but which the two have amplified – the angst of the climate apocalypse, as already identified by sociologists and psychologists. Young, educated people are particularly exposed to this type of anxiety. The impact is quite obvious. We’ve read about the case of the young researcher who decided that the best thing for her is to have no offspring. Not that their fate is uncertain or any less difficult, but simply because such a decision contributes – by a large and yet positive margin – to slowing down global warming. Self-reduction has become the desperate solution for those who see themselves as clear-headed in the face of the real threat of our century or (if it comes to it) millennium.
A vicious circle comes into shape. The more mankind makes its presence felt even in ocean depths or the few old-growth forests that are still left, the more unpredictable the effects get. There’s one origin story revolving the coronavirus according to which the virus had lay dormant in bat caves that were never disturbed by people. But the Pandora Box was opened with the advent of climate change or man’s direct intervention. After sustaining certain mutations, the viruses spread from bats and other animals to human beings. Many other diseases with a similar pandemic potential have appeared and will likely continue to do so. Just as certain modern wars – experts say – can be considered the aftermath of human-induced climate change. A case in point is the war in Syria, which broke out in the wake of an uprising triggered by people who got caught in a territorial dispute for water resources.
Climate change can therefore be the cause of what we are about to experience from now on, unless the war in Ukraine and the coronavirus pandemic are already tangible effects, although for the time being we’re unable to provide sound arguments to support this view. Yet the reality on the ground is reflected in the collective state of mind. People are gradually starting to lose their bearings and panic. Whereas in the 19th century and for the most past of the 20th century, progress was still the prevailing doctrine, today the Noah paradigm is starting to take precedence. When collective salvation is out of hand, all that’s left is for each to build an Ark.