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In the long run, democracies always prevail. For us, the question is how long that timeline will be. We must persevere through it, Estonian ambassador to Finland Sven Sakkov writes.
The German Lutheran pastor Martin Niemöller is credited with these famous postwar lines:
First they came for the Communists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Communist. Then they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Socialist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.
In the realm of international relations, this tragic and cautionary tale could be titled «Isolationism». Doing nothing is often, in its own way, an action. President Barack Obama, for example, chose in August 2013 to do nothing in Syria, despite having promised to intervene if the Assad regime used chemical weapons. We are still experiencing the consequences of that inaction.
It is plausible that this display of weakness emboldened Putin to invade Crimea and Donbas and to intervene in Syria's civil war. Russia's aggression against Ukraine led, eight years later, to a full-scale war.
The Syrian civil war and Russia's support for a murderous regime have caused the deaths of 400,000 Syrians and displaced millions to Lebanon, Jordan, Turkey, and Europe. The resulting refugee crisis has redrawn the internal political landscapes of many EU countries. Additionally, Iran's influence in Syria and Lebanon has grown, leading to continued destabilization of Lebanese politics and the strengthening of Hezbollah, and so on and so forth.
Obama may have wanted a better outcome, but the results were quite the opposite. Inaction has consequences, too.
On August 20, 1998, president Bill Clinton ordered a cruise missile strike on those responsible for attacks on US embassies in Africa. The main organizer of the Dar es Salaam and Nairobi bombings—Osama bin Laden, then a relatively unknown scion of a wealthy Saudi family—reportedly narrowly escaped.
I read about this attack while lying on a beach in Barcelona, holding a real, old-fashioned newspaper. Why does this memory stick out? Much has been read and forgotten over the years.
However, this incident stayed with me because American journalists, commentators, and analysts had not a single good word to say about Clinton's decision. Most argued it was a mere distraction from the Monica Lewinsky scandal. Had bin Laden been less fortunate, perhaps world history would have unfolded differently. Decisions are undeniably easier to criticize than indecision.
Never before or since has a peace prize been awarded solely for eloquent campaign speeches, before any accompanying actions.
An overwhelming amount of blame has been heaped upon George W. Bush by his contemporaries. By the end of his presidency, his legacy was largely viewed with arrogance and disdain, particularly in Europe. His successor, Barack Obama, received the Nobel Peace Prize almost immediately upon entering office, seemingly as a reward for not being Bush.
Setting aside the fact that Estonians have reason to be eternally grateful to George W. Bush for their NATO membership, it must be noted that history will judge Bush more favorably than his contemporaries did.
The image of leaders can also fade significantly over time. Angela Merkel left office with high praise and honor. Yet just a few years later, it is clear that history will not treat her with kid gloves. Her decision to shut down Germany's nuclear power plants following the Fukushima disaster plunged the country into even deeper dependence on Russian gas.
It was already mentioned that president Obama received a Nobel Peace Prize as an advance gift. Never before or since has a peace prize been awarded solely for eloquent campaign speeches, before any accompanying actions. And indeed, his speeches were and still are beautiful. However, words alone are not enough.
Several years ago, I asked an American Republican friend for his opinion on Obama's decisions to «lead from behind» in Libya and do nothing regarding Syria. His reply was straightforward: «This is what happens when a US president sees American military power not as a solution to global problems but as the cause of them.»
To understand the prelude to the current war, we must rewind to the early 1990s—a time of great hope, heralding a new era. The «Evil Empire» had collapsed, or more precisely, its two outer layers had fallen away.
Yet, during this era of optimism, when the empire was in a slump reminiscent of the early 1920s, it still managed to create three «frozen conflicts»: in Transnistria, South Ossetia, and Abkhazia. The goal was to retain leverage over Moldova and Georgia and to leave open the possibility of annexing these regions more firmly in the future. What did the West do in response to this blatant violation of state sovereignty and international law? Nothing.
In 1995, the first Chechen War began. Although it took place within Russia's borders and thus fell into a different category than later conflicts, it demonstrated the brutality and ruthlessness of Russia's warfare. This pattern has since repeated itself—in Grozny, Aleppo, and Bakhmut. What did the West do in response to this horror? Nothing.
In 2008, Russia invaded Georgia, occupying one-fifth of its territory—a portion still under occupation today. For the first time since World War II, a state in Europe militarily attacked its neighbor and annexed part of its territory. An unprecedented breach of international law. What did the West do? Nothing.
Seven months after the war, Hillary Clinton presented Sergey Lavrov with the infamous «reset» button in Geneva. The message to Moscow was clear: «What’s done is done. Let's move forward and start fresh.» Europe further rewarded Russia with the Nord Stream pipeline. The major European powers had deliberately chosen to become dependent on Russian energy.
In 2014, Russia used military force to seize and annex Crimea, taking a significant step beyond its actions in Georgia. Crimea was not merely conquered; it was annexed. Additionally, Moscow initiated a prolonged war in Donbas, claiming 14,000 Ukrainian lives between 2014 and February 2022. What did the West do? Nothing.
A token handful of barely noticeable sanctions and a brief cooling of relations. Meanwhile, Russia was rewarded again with the Nord Stream 2 pipeline. The message to Moscow was clear: do what you want—invade, annex—the West will do nothing.
A third of a century later, we can acknowledge that the collapse of the Russian Empire took a very bloody turn—it simply required the span of a generation.
In 2015, Russia intervened in the Syrian civil war at the invitation of the Assad regime. Once again, we saw Russia's mode of warfare—civilian casualties are not an unfortunate byproduct but a deliberate objective.
One example: when bombing Syrian cities, Russia often employed the so-called «double-tap» strike. First, a hospital or kindergarten would be bombed. Then, 30 minutes later, the same target would be hit again—killing rescue workers after doctors had been killed in the first strike. War crimes are an integral part of Russian warfare. And what did the West do in response? Nothing.
In August 2021, the Taliban seized control of Kabul. The world watched as desperate Afghans clung to the landing gear of a departing US military transport plane—scenes as haunting as those from Saigon in 1975, where panicked cooperators were evacuated from the roof of the US embassy on the last departing helicopters.
Many Afghans who had cooperated with the United States and its allies were left behind at Kabul Airport and fell into the hands of the Taliban—just as what had happened to those in Saigon 46 years earlier. Some claim the United States' withdrawal from Afghanistan convinced Putin that the time was ripe for his next move. While this can never be definitively proven, it seems plausible. And then February 2022 happened.
In the early 1990s, the West marveled at how the Soviet Empire collapsed without significant bloodshed. Historically, such imperial collapses have been bloody. A third of a century later, we can acknowledge that the collapse of the Russian Empire took a very bloody turn—it simply required the span of a generation.
I use the terms Soviet Empire and Russian Empire interchangeably because the Soviet Union was nothing more than a reincarnation of the Russian Empire under a bizarre ideology and a peculiar name.
Ukraine's very existence as a democratic European state is a threat to Putin's regime. For years, Putin has claimed that Ukrainians do not exist—they are simply Russians. The implication is clear: if Ukraine can succeed as a democratic state, then Russia can too. This poses a direct challenge to the kleptocratic mafia state Putin has painstakingly built.
For the past eight decades, the world has largely operated under an international order based on rules and laws. Broadly speaking, international law has been upheld, and a rules-based system of international relations has prevailed. While not all nations have benefited equally—Estonia itself was cut off from this world for 50 years.
In 1994, Ukraine gave up its nuclear arsenal, the third largest in the world, along with numerous strategic bombers and ballistic missiles. In return, it received security guarantees from Russia, the United States, and the United Kingdom. As we can see, there is a difference between one security guarantee and another. NATO's guarantees work; others are questionable. By the late 1930s, Europe was crisscrossed with security guarantees and mutual defense pacts. We know how that turned out.
The lesson for all other countries in dangerous neighborhoods that are not nuclear powers but have the capability to produce nuclear weapons and their delivery systems (such as ballistic missiles) is simple: without nuclear weapons, your security is worth nothing.
There are currently nine nuclear powers in the world: the United States, Russia, China, France, the United Kingdom, India, Pakistan, North Korea, and Israel (the latter has not officially admitted its status). If Ukraine emerges as a clear loser in this war, I would not be surprised if, in twenty years, the number of nuclear powers doubles. This, in turn, would make the use of nuclear weapons significantly more likely than it is today.
A Ukrainian defeat and a Russian victory would signal the weakness of Western democracies to the entire world. The international order established after the end of World War II, which has provided even small nations with an equal chance to thrive, would be replaced with something else. We do not know exactly what that would be, but it would undoubtedly be far less favorable for small countries like Estonia. The emboldened empire would continue its quest to restore its 1914 borders.
NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte recently stated that if we cannot find billions now to help Ukraine, we will have to find trillions in the future to defend ourselves in a war. Meanwhile, Europe would struggle under the burden of 10 or 20 million Ukrainian refugees.
December brought surprising news for those who care about democracy, humanity, and human rights: the sudden collapse of Bashar al-Assad's regime in Syria. Just three and a half years ago, the regime claimed that 95.19 percent of Syrians had reelected Assad as president. Now, those same 95 percent are trampling on statues of Bashar al-Assad and his father, Hafez al-Assad.
Dictatorships may appear supremely strong and unbreakable, but in reality, they are brittle and fragile. The 95 percent of Russians who have supposedly voted for Putin time and again will one day also dance on his toppled statues. Or, if a Khrushchev follows this Stalin, public meetings will be held across Russia denouncing the excesses of Putin's era yet pledging loyalty to the idea of Russian imperialism.
What does the lightning-fast regime change in Syria tell us? It shows how poor our ability is to foresee such events. It reveals that even the most seemingly unshakable dictatorships are inherently fragile. It demonstrates that Russia will sacrifice its allies without hesitation when needed. And it reminds us that the chain of events set in motion on October 7, 2023, has not yet fully played out.
One of the biggest losers of the soon-to-be-past year has been Iran. A year ago, it controlled most of Syria, wielded influence over Lebanon's politics through Hezbollah's massive terrorist army with its enormous rocket stockpiles, and still had some leverage through its dependent, Hamas.
Now, much of Hamas' and Hezbollah's military power has been destroyed, and the Syrian dictator himself is sitting in a snowdrift somewhere near Moscow. A year ago, Iran boasted about its new Russian-made air defense systems. It turned out they were no match for Israeli F-35s, which operate as they please in Iranian airspace, if necessary. One day, Iran's current regime will also come crashing down.
Democracies are slow and full of hesitation. Endless debates, deliberations, and doubts can be extremely frustrating. In democratic societies, there are always those who long for a strong, iron-fisted leader to end the divisive debates and «finally do what is right». Of course, such people assume that «what is right» will align with their own beliefs.
Unfortunately, the world is far more complex and full of surprises. Before long, the admirer of a strong hand may find themselves protesting against that very leadership in the streets—only to be met with a police baton. After all, they were the ones who wished for a strong hand to restore order.
I have not personally encountered any panic anywhere. And it is worth asking: did a reassuring tone work better for the public in the late 1930s?
Democracy may be slow and full of hesitation, but its very nature includes a built-in self-correction process—free elections. A foolish government can be voted out by the people. A foolish dictator, however, can remain in power for decades and even pass the presidency to an even more foolish son.
In a democracy, making a difficult decision is hard—it requires bringing coalition partners on board, engaging in public debate, crafting a clear public message, holding parliamentary discussions, and allocating resources. All of this takes time and energy. The status quo, or indecision, requires less energy since no stone needs to be moved. Unfortunately, as we have seen, indecision can be a far more painful and costly solution in the long term.
In Estonia, we are fortunate to have a very healthy and active political debate on foreign and security policy issues. Occasionally, there is criticism that in Estonia, people are perhaps being frightened too much, with too much talk about war and the Russian threat. It is said that this sows panic and drives investors away.
I have not personally encountered any panic anywhere. And it is worth asking: did a reassuring tone work better for the public in the late 1930s? Investors are not deterred by the threat itself but by a lack of credible resistance to it.
West Berlin is a good example of how a city surrounded by enemy territory and forces attracted investment because there was no doubt about the effectiveness of NATO's deterrence. West Berlin had three brigades, while East Germany, together with Soviet forces, had a total of 26 divisions. The Soviet advantage was seventy-fold. Yet West Berlin's economy thrived because NATO's deterrence, including its nuclear umbrella, was credible and reliable.
I am confident that democracies always prevail in the long run. For us, the question is how long that timeline will be. We must persevere through it.
Eventually, time turns into history, but it takes time to settle and make sense of it. Then, two types of grand prizes are awarded—history will record the Churchills and Chamberlains of our era.
Upon his return from Munich, Neville Chamberlain was greeted as a strategic genius and a savior of the world. History, however, has not been kind to Chamberlains in the past, nor is it now. Churchill firmly believed that only strength could stop an aggressor. It was true then, and it remains true today.
The views expressed in this article are the author's own.
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