Western alignment without looking East

Jürgen Habermas was a great advocate of the universalist world order that emerged after 1945 and raised the possibility of a ‘global domestic policy’. This was the source of his criticism of neo-nationalism and commitment to a supra- and post-national Europe. There remained a blind spot, however: that Stalin and his successors, including Mikhail Gorbachev, never acquiesced to this world order. On the contrary, real socialism always sought to undermine it.

When Adam Michnik asked why they had focused on Hitler but not on Stalin, western intellectuals, including Habermas himself, replied that they had not believed it to be of such great significance. The absence of a comprehensive theory of totalitarian rule and ideology, and a monolithic concept of the ‘Eastern Bloc’, prevented acknowledgment of the Russian dissidents, the Prague Spring, the Polish Solidarity movement and the East German democracy movement. Later, the ‘Maidan’ movements went unnoticed for the same reason.

There was a fundamental difference between West German Social Democracy, which remained committed to the pacifist postwar tradition of the East–West conflict, and the anti-totalitarian currents in France that emerged from the shadow of Communist Party hegemony. André Gorz, André Glucksmann and many other French leftists took a stand against Soviet rearmament in the 1980s, while German intellectuals clung to the détente formula of Wandel durch Handel (‘change through trade’). In the 1990s, the latter downplayed the threat to Bosnia as realpolitik and decried the German Green’s support for NATO intervention as ‘bellicism’. Surprisingly, perhaps, this placed Habermas within the mainstream of public opinion in Germany, both east and west.

Negotiating for the day after

Like many Social Democrats after Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, Habermas called for ‘timely negotiations, negotiations that prevent a prolonged war from claiming even more lives and causing even more destruction, and from presenting us in the end with a hopeless choice: either to intervene actively in the war or to leave Ukraine to its fate in order not to trigger the first world war between nuclear-armed powers’. As a genuine pacifist, his intention was to advance the ‘discussion that is gradually beginning in Germany about the point and the possibility of peace negotiations’. He addressed the old fear of nuclear war and elevated post-Soviet Russia to the status of an equal negotiating partner in the East–West conflict.

More specific statements regarding who was supposed to negotiate with whom would have been welcome, given that Habermas in effect rejected the possibility of a restoration of the status quo ante of 23 February 2022. His position amounted to an acceptance of the annexation of Crimea in 2014 and the Russian army’s territorial gains in the Donbas, which were accompanied by horrific massacres of the civilian population. With this new demarcation of borders, Habermas argued, ‘it cannot be ruled out from the outset that a compromise that saves face for both sides could also be found for the present diametrically opposed demands’.

There was, of course, no indication that this would be possible. Habermas’s proposals met with firm opposition in Ukraine and the Ukraine solidarity movement in the West. His proposals were contradictory from the outset: beyond the empty rhetoric from Budapest and Minsk, the genuine security guarantees he demanded from the West could only be achieved if Ukraine were to join NATO, or alternatively the European Union. This would entail comparable obligations of mutual assistance should Putin’s appetite for imperial aggression continue, a fact that Germany’s Social Democrats have consistently ignored, Scholz’s Zeitenwende notwithstanding.

We find it inconceivable to think of Ukraine as an amputated nation and a neutral buffer state between East and West; its integrity and independence can only be guaranteed as a member of the Western alliance. However, it was precisely to prevent the ‘collective West’ from expanding to Russia’s borders that Putin invaded the country.

Why, one wonders, would Putin abandon his real goal: the ‘denazification’ of Ukraine as way to revive the imperial ‘Russian World’? Habermas neglected to mention that his negotiation plan was no less risky than the positions of those he so flippantly labelled ‘bellicists’ – who, incidentally, see no inherent contradiction between military support and diplomatic negotiations. We, of course, are also in favour of peace through fair negotiations.

What Habermas overlooked is that it is Russia, and not Putin, that will remain Kyiv’s neighbour. This is also an oversight of the Ukraine solidarity movement. Negotiations are essential, but primarily with the Russian opposition. Any post-Putin regime will be judged by the extent to which it acknowledges Russia’s responsibility for the war and hands Putin and his cabal over to a criminal court. The necessary regime change involves far more than simply replacing Putin with a like-minded autocrat. Democratization must not – as in 1991 and after – be limited to the holding of regular elections without a normative and institutional foundation.

The dissolution of Russia’s deep state requires the separation of powers, an independent judiciary, a free press and the guarantee of civil liberties. With its decades-long tradition of authoritarianism, Russia is even less prepared for this than the German Reich in 1945. Liberal movements in Russia – from the aristocratic reforms of the 1860s and the February Revolution of 1917 to the Perestroika and Yeltsin eras – have historically been too weak to serve as a foundation. The great unknown is to what extent marginal forces within the Russian population or exile are contemplating, if not preparing for a ‘post-Putin’ future. The opposition has been decimated over the years; de facto martial law and ideological brainwashing reminiscent of Stalinism have done the rest. Most Russians now have ‘other concerns’ and submit to the new tsar.

From the perspective of the West, every shoot of resistance, no matter how small, must be nurtured by acknowledging Russian dissidents and developing the next generation of leaders who can ultimately establish a government-in-exile. Scientific and cultural ties must be maintained wherever they are still possible or may become so again. It is also crucial to prepare for a tribunal in The Hague. Russian society must be shown alternatives that bring the country back into the ‘community of nations’, that reintegrate it into global efforts for climate and species protection, and that introduce it to alternative energy sources and economic models.

It is worth remembering that in the 1940s, the resistance to Nazi rule was repressed by Hitler in ways not dissimilar to Putin’s critics today. But despite its hopeless situation, it was able to devise plans for the day after – a day that most contemporaries considered completely ‘unthinkable’.  Those plans were largely realized in a free Europe that included West Germany. Even if today, a bilateral future for the two warring countries seems utopian, medium-term cooperation between them should be considered no less possible than the rapprochement between the ‘hereditary enemies’ Germany and France within a free Europe. Until then, we must continue to make every effort to ensure that Ukraine wins peace.

Habermas lamented that an increasingly bellicose West had allowed itself to be increasingly drawn into the logic of war. He did not deny Ukraine’s right of self-defence or the political and material support required to exercise it. Yet precisely because of western arms deliveries, he argued, Ukraine can no longer decide for itself what its war aims are, leaving these to be decided by its supporters.

This position met with agreement on many sides – both from populist demagogues and, more welcome, from an informed public that complains of Western complicity in the deaths of Ukrainian soldiers and civilians. Are ‘we’ not partly to blame for their deaths and suffering, because ‘our’ weapons are dragging them into an unwinnable war? The burden of this responsibility is indeed daunting.

But what might be ‘reasonable’ objectives for Ukraine’s military campaign? These have been determined by Ukraine itself, which remains a sovereign nation. They are restoration of territorial integrity, including previously annexed territories; protection against further attacks by Russian through independently formed alliances; condemnation of war crimes, including, to a lesser extent and in lower numbers, those committed on the Ukrainian side; and reparations for the country’s reconstruction and as compensation.

What if not regime change?

In his final months, Habermas is said to have grown increasingly despondent about what he saw as the failure of his life’s work. As Herfried Münkler ruthlessly put it: the ‘unforced force of the better argument’ has become obsolete as the epistemic foundation of public debate; Nietzschean ressentiment now prevails. An intellectual right wing that Habermas rejected in the 1950s in opposition to the intellectual legacy of Martin Heidegger and Carl Schmitt has returned. The democratization of the EU is – according to Münkler – illusory and the norms and rules-based world order finished. What is needed is a ‘capacity to act’ – one that is ultimately military.

‘Realists’ like Münkler categorically condemn any regime change. But what else, other than the overthrow of a dictatorial regime, did the commanders of the Allied forces have in mind when they landed in Normandy, suffering heavy losses, and liberated the survivors of the concentration and extermination camps? It is true that the current American and Israeli exhortations to the Iranian people to rise up and liberate themselves are cynical. It is also true that previous regime changes in Libya, Iraq and Afghanistan failed abjectly. However, this argument focuses only on the West’s strategic mistakes, rather than the fundamental and still necessary removal of the Iranian regime, as well as the Taliban and Putin regimes.

From the perspective of the liberation of Europe from National Socialism in 1944/45, it is easy to understand the dilemma faced by Iranians. Although they despise the terror regime and have been defying it courageously for years, they now – urged by Trump and Netanyahu to bring about ‘regime change’– dare not take to the streets, where they might be seized by the Revolutionary Guards and militias. If they stay at home, on the other hand, they may be killed by a missile. They must wait and see whether the mullah regime collapses or survives as an even more brutal tyranny. This dilemma is overlooked by historically ignorant ‘realists’, who not only object to the means and fatal consequences of ‘regime change’, but also reject it as a war aim in principle. Their argument is based partly in international law, which prohibits interventions in ‘internal affairs’, but in effect facilitates the survival of a murderous regime, with home close economic ties remain.

The overthrow of totalitarian and autocratic regimes must be the goal of western democracies. Instead, in pursuit of a bad peace with dictators, they continue to refrain from using even non-military sanctions such as freezing assets, halting oil and gas supplies, disrupting supply chains and supporting opposition movements. When the Iranian regime massacred thousands of protesters in January, not a single advocate of restraint under international law mentioned the ‘Responsibility to Protect’ (R2P) adopted by the UN, which obligates states to protect their populations from genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing and crimes against humanity, and transfers this responsibility to the international community in the event of a state’s failure to do so. This, too, has been part of international law since the war in Yugoslavia at the latest, although unfortunately only as a dead letter, as ‘realists’ are quick to point out, due to the right of veto held by the imperial powers on the Security Council – the United States, Russia and the People’s Republic of China.

This norm must be upheld, however counterproductive the means used in the past to bring about regime change may have been. Who could have imagined an end to Nazi rule over Europe without regime change in Berlin? How could eastern Europe have been liberated without the end of the Soviet regime? How could that have happened as peacefully as it did without the partial regime change initiated from within by Mikhail Gorbachev? Who can picture a future for women and freedom-loving people in Afghanistan and Iran under a ‘moderate’ Taliban or mullah regime? And closer to home: how could freedom have been possible in Hungary so long as Viktor Orbán remained in power? Or in Turkey, so long as Recep Tayyip Erdoğan continues to rule?

It is not for us who live in safety to offer judgements or recommendations. Yet, in the countries that were once bombed by the Allies, the prevailing view today is that liberation from a dictatorship was worth this high price. Today, America has neither the right nor the means to liberate the Iranian people. It certainly does not have the intention. And yet regime change must happen – we just need to debate how.

A longer version of this article was first published in German in Texttor