If Russia loses, Europe still faces reckoning

As Russian forces massed on Ukraine’s borders in February 2022, Western policymakers publicly framed Kyiv’s survival as essential to European security. Yet, as Peter Apps writes for The New World, the private calculations in Washington and London were far more austere.

The prevailing strategy in the final days before the invasion did not assume Ukraine could hold. It envisaged the rapid evacuation of its government, the arming of an insurgency, and a firm warning to Moscow: Russia could advance no further—at least not onto Nato territory.

That assumption rested on flawed intelligence. While US agencies correctly anticipated an invasion, they overestimated Russia’s capacity to swiftly overrun the country. Ukrainian leaders, for their part, made their own misjudgments. Many expected the main assault to focus on eastern Ukraine and the creation of a land corridor to Crimea. Troop build-ups in Belarus were widely interpreted as a diversion aimed at stretching Ukrainian defences, not a genuine bid to seize Kyiv.

The battle for Hostomel airfield proved decisive. Ukraine repelled Russia’s airborne assault west of the capital, preventing reinforcements from landing. The armoured column intended to encircle Kyiv stalled. In Apps’ assessment, history may judge that this moment marked the point at which the war was effectively decided.

Today, President Vladimir Putin continues to press forward in Donbass, advancing slowly and at immense cost. A broader Ukrainian collapse remains conceivable, perhaps through a technological breakthrough that neutralises Ukraine’s drones or through a failure by Europe to supply sufficient arms. Yet that prospect appears less likely as Eastern European states and Germany increasingly recognise that even a ceasefire could merely postpone a wider confrontation, the article points out.

Polling suggests Ukrainians remain determined to fight, seeking not only EU membership but national survival. A negotiated settlement would halt Ukrainian strikes deep into Russian territory but could allow Kyiv to rebuild as a heavily militarised state—an arsenal for Europe, driven by innovation and hardened by experience. Apps notes that Ukraine could eventually join countries such as South Korea, Japan and Poland in contemplating sovereign nuclear deterrence.

Such outcomes complicate any simple notion of Russian defeat. Even in failure, the Kremlin would likely frame the war as a triumph, securing Crimea’s long-term status and consolidating the “land bridge” along the Azov Sea through Mariupol. That territorial gain, however, might have been achieved years earlier without the staggering human and material losses incurred since 2022.

European officials frequently warn that “if Russia wins”, Estonia or another Baltic state could be next. Apps suggests an equally troubling possibility: that a Russia which loses—without regime collapse—might still pose a grave threat. A Kremlin determined to reassert strength, backed by China’s interest in preventing Russian instability, could redeploy battle-hardened forces to Nato’s borders.

In that scenario, deterrence becomes paramount. The Pentagon has indicated that US “tripwire” forces in Eastern Europe, including tanks stationed in Estonia, are likely to remain. Their presence bolsters the UK-led Nato contingent there. Britain and France are also considering a Ukraine “coalition of the willing”, potentially deploying troops north of Kyiv to deter future assaults.

Apps cautions that such measures could either stabilise Europe or exacerbate tensions if mishandled. Properly resourced and paired with credible deterrent threats, foreign deployments might secure peace. Poorly conceived, they risk repeating past miscalculations.

As The New World analysis underscores, even a Russian defeat would not bring Europe lasting security by default. The end of this war—whenever it comes—may simply mark the beginning of a more complex and precarious chapter.

By Sabina Mammadli