“This sickness is not unto death” (Jesus Christ, John 11:4)
The world is just now becoming aware of the horror in which Ukrainians have been forced to live during Russia’s unprovoked invasion of their country. Assassinations, rapes, torture, and the bombardment of hospitals, schools, churches/assembly halls and residential communities have been the preferred strategy of an undisciplined and unprincipled Russian army. I am reminded of a phrase coined by Evan Osnos defining the “brokenness of humanity” in terms of what the mystics might call the dark night of the soul. ¹ How can Ukrainians resist “this sickness” forced upon them by the Russian army and Putin’s directives? As I pondered this question, I recalled a story Viktor Frankl related about an incident he experienced in the Auschwitz death camp. A fellow inmate, his senior floor warden, related a “strange” dream wherein he was told that they would be liberated on March 30th. “On March thirtieth . . . he became delirious and lost consciousness. On March thirty-first, he was dead.” ² His hope for liberation had died and so did he. He was felled by the “sickness” Jesus Christ strived to cure and that Soren Kierkegaard so clearly identified as despair. ³ Its cure is hope . . . hope for a future that can be visualized and that can be attained by honest effort. What hope can Ukrainians have in their future? That future must be a world in which those unalienable rights Jefferson identified as a human birthright are recognized by all peoples and nations. Russia, under Putin, obliterates such rights. No community of people, nations, or any global union of nations will ever exist in a lasting peace without reverence for our common humanity. “Love they neighbor as thyself,” is not just a Christian belief, but the basis for all human interactions, most especially, in a time when inhumanity and armed conflict can result in extraordinary levels of death and destruction—even in nuclear annihilation. In our age, a despot’s thirst for power can toll the death knell for human progress . . . and that toll leads to despair.
On February 26, at the beginning of this series of blogs, I characterized Russia’s war against Ukraine as a reincarnation of Hitler’s hatred for non-Aryans whom Putin would replace with Ukrainians (ref. “Eat Crumbs and Bask in the Glory of Empire”). Ironically, he claimed there were Ukrainian Nazis who were responsible for a non-existent genocide that he then began to make a reality. As always with Putin, he blames others for the dastard reality he intends to create. Even his “mini-me,” America’s pretend dictator, Donald Trump, mirrored this blaming technique by his pre-election forewarning of a rigged election. After losing the election, he attempted to prove a rigged election by falsifying electoral records, instigating bogus challenges to vote counts, and inciting an insurrection against the capital of the United States. This dictator playbook of accusing others of what you intend to do is shared by both Putin and Trump, though the scale of violence differs greatly in magnitude. In 2014, the Ukrainians, like Americans in 2020, voted to free themselves from an anti-democratic tendency in their government. But whereas Putin could only use targeted propaganda, campaign conspirators, and idiot sources to derail the American electorate in 2020, he could order an invasion in 2022 and lethal force to overthrow the Ukrainian democracy. When such men can dupe citizens to support their will to power, they can amass the resources required to realize their dream of dominion over others. Trump claimed he was the “the greatest American President in history,” while Putin sought to reestablish Russia’s nineteenth century empire under his czar-like command. But Nietzsche, the philosopher often noted for elucidating humankind’s will to power, was not particularly impressed by Nero, Cesare Borgia, Napoleon, or even the unchallenged military achievements of Julius Caesar. In fact, amongst these legendary figures, only Caesar’s strength of character and self-mastery impressed him. And these are the very virtues neither Donald Trump nor Vladimir Putin exhibit in any measurable degree. Both surround themselves with sycophants and excessive luxuries that serve their recklessness and self-indulgence. They show no restraints in amassing wealth, power, and personal comfort/pleasure, especially at the expense of others. In other words, they present as persistent adolescents who revel in gaining power over their betters. But their real power is the sickness of despair they leave in their wake.
It has been 12 years and three months since Putin rose to power in Russia. Curiously, Hitler’s reign of terror lasted 12 years and three months. He committed suicide on April 30th, 1945, rather than face the ignominy of defeat and, most likely, the condemnation of a world court. Dictators, like Putin and Hitler, write their own rules and can never submit to the moral judgment of others. Oddly, they shamelessly justify their licentiousness and lawlessness to followers, who feel impowered to replicate their “dear leader’s” actions without self-reflection. Putin’s army, for example, can rape, plunder, and kill indiscriminately non-combatants without remorse because their leader claims they are freeing Ukrainians from Nazis (a political group that represents less than 2% of Ukrainians). The Jews in Hitler’s Germany, by comparison, were exterminated as part of the “final solution,” even though they carried no weapons and presented no more physical threat to Hitler than Ukrainian citizens present to Putin. But dictators bask in their power over the helpless, especially when their cruelty can discourage, even prevent, opposition. Fear is their weapon of choice. And Putin’s arsenal of weapons includes a nuclear stockpile that far exceeds the dread inspired by Hitler’s blitzkrieg. Unfortunately, it was only after defeat that the German people became aware of the extent of Hitler’s inhumanity. As the world community approaches this April 30th, let us all hope that the Russian people will break through the iron curtain of misinformation and propaganda to bear honest witness to what Putin has done in their name.
Ukraine signed a security agreement in 1991 with Russia, America, and Great Britain to secure their independence as a free, self-governing state in Europe. Putin has violated that agreement and has initiated unprovoked assaults on Ukrainian territory since 2014. And now he has attempted to overthrow Ukraine’s government by force without any provocation other than Ukraine’s existence as a free, democratic state on Russia’s border. Putin’s assault on Ukraine not only violates the United Nation’s charter of which Russia is a signatory, but his vicious and unrestrained attack on civilians and the leveling of whole cities and villages exemplify a “brokenness of humanity” unwitnessed since World War II.
As mentioned in a previous blog, an overwhelming majority of the United Nations has condemned Putin’s invasion of a sovereign nation. Except for China, and perhaps India, the nations of the world are also united against the inhumanity exemplified by Russia’s conduct in its unprovoked attack on Ukraine. This violation of the territorial integrity of another nation is an assault on the world order established after World War II. Its potential to embroil Europe and the United States in a broader war threatens the security of all nations potentially exposed to a global economic recession and even the radioactive fallout of a potential nuclear conflagration. Putin has already played this nuclear card as his most threatening deterrent to NATO and the US, while he, undeterred, hopes to devastate Ukraine and demoralize its citizens into submission. Given his propensity to wage wars of conquest and his vision of a greater Russia, does any world leader believe Putin will cease his aggression against other nations in Europe—especially those formerly under Russia’s control and now on NATO’s eastern border?
What have we learned after the two world wars of the 20th century—that is, the worst self-immolation of humankind in all its history? World War II, for example, could have been stopped at Czechoslovakia’s border. And, maybe, we can stop Russia at Ukraine’s border. Every nation in the world has a very persuasive reason to support that result. Let’s face facts: Ukraine needs offensive weapons NOW. Unless the Ukrainian army can defend against artillery, cruise missiles, and arial bombardment, they will be defeated in a war of attrition and suffer the worst civilian casualties of any nation since the world wars of the last century.
Also, it is now time for the West to begin setting the terms of this conflict, rather than allowing Putin to do so. NATO must dictate the terms for secure humanitarian corridors that would allow civilian escape routes to safety. Those terms would limit NATO military response to the defense of those safe corridors against any active military engagement, to include aerial and artillery response in kind. NATO must prepare to enforce any cease fire agreement. As a result of such preparation, NATO must amass an attack force on its Eastern borders with a promise to act only if attacked. That force would then be in position to enforce any mutually agreed armistice or peace treaty between Ukraine and Russia. If such an agreement was reached, NATO would then be in position to assist Ukraine in the security of its borders while friendly nations assist Ukrainians’ efforts to rebuild their nation after this devastating unprovoked war.
Of course, my recommendations have no authority. But I can at least remind my readers that less action invites more risks. Putin is a bully and will continue to be the aggressor until forced to stop. Unless deposed from within, only the free world stands as an obstacle to his assault on humanity. We must put out the fire he has started before it metastasizes and envelopes Europe. He has introduced a sickness into the world’s psyche.
This sickness is what most viewers, I suspect, feel when they see and hear interviews with the citizens of Bucha—like the interview of a woman who saw her husband executed by Russian soldiers. She pleaded with the soldiers to kill her too, for she screamed “I have just the one husband!” She reminded me of a line from Kierkegaard: “When death is the greatest danger, we hope for life; but when we learn to know the even greater danger, we hope for death.” ³ The citizens of Ukraine must hope for life and the restitution of their sovereignty. Otherwise, they will lose their war with an evil empire and their hope for a free and just society where every citizen can conduct his/her personal pursuit of happiness. The world, not just NATO, must feed that hope. We feed it not just with moral support, but with care for Ukraine’s refugees, with both defensive AND offensive weapons, with the creation of safe havens within Ukraine and safe corridors for escapees from violence, and with personal use tightening of increasingly scares resources such as grain and fuel. All of us can live with less: substitute vegetables for bread, turn down the heater or air conditioner, and drive less. These are small sacrifices compared to what the people of Ukraine face daily: possibly as many as ten million homeless, tens of thousands dead or injured, millions separated from their families, whose children, mothers, sisters, and grandmothers are the preferred targets in Putin’s insane attack on humanity. The sickness Putin has unleashed on Ukraine will metastasize and increasingly affect the world—much as the World Wars of the 20th century did. Only we citizens of the world can save Ukraine AND ourselves from this sickness, which needs not be “unto death.”
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¹ Evan Osnos, “Wildland: The Making of America’s Fury,” p. 166.
² Viktor E. Frankl, “Man’s Search for Meaning,” pp. 82-83.
³ Soren Kierkegaard, “The Sickness unto Death,” pp. 13-22. The quote is from p. 18. As Kierkegaard explains, there are many forms of this sickness he terms despair. But, in my interpretation, there is only one ultimate despair: not living or being in relation to oneself, for that relationship encompasses all the relationships one experiences in life. At least, that definition captures what Joseph Campbell believed was the purpose of human life: the experience of living. Losing that experience—or the fear of losing it—is the greatest despair any human will ever face. Now consider the fate of many Ukrainians during this conflict.