War in Ukraine

Count me among those who harbor growing concerns about the ongoing war in Ukraine. Don’t get me wrong. The Russian invasion clearly constitutes unjust aggression, and as an action of self-defense, Ukrainian resistance enjoys the greatest possible legitimacy. But a just cause does not exhaust the moral calculus of war. As I observed last year (“Peace in Ukraine,” April 2023), political leaders must weigh the probability of success. It’s wrong to throw men into the maw of battle when the odds are strongly against any kind of victory. Futile sacrifice may seem a heroic gesture, a way to win the honor of one’s nation. But it is a mentality rejected by the Christian just war tradition.

A wiser and more knowledgeable friend recently drew my attention to the peace proposals put forward by Pope Benedict XV during World War I. His calls for peace in the war’s first year were ignored. Those leading the entrenched armies were confident of decisive victory. In August 1917, after three years of slaughter in the trenches, the pontiff formulated a seven-point plan for peace. Vatican diplomats knew that French, German, and British leaders were interested in finding a way out of the man-killing stalemate on the Western Front. Austro-Hungarian Emperor Karl endorsed the plan. German and British governments briefly entertained the possibility of a negotiated peace, but their generals argued against it. France and Italy rejected the peace plan out of hand. The war continued for another fifteen months.

There were many heroic deeds performed by brave men in the trenches of northern France. Some of the warring nations could make legitimate claims to be prosecuting the war for the sake of a just cause. Yet the historical consensus holds that the four million men who died on the Western Front did so to no good end. For four years, armies were locked in a war of attrition that neither side could win. Even after the Doughboys arrived and tipped the balance in 1918, the final territorial and political outcome was, if anything, worse than what would have obtained had the Great Powers adopted Pope Benedict’s peace plan in 1917.

In the Great War’s immediate aftermath, the peoples of Europe were not unaware of its moral reality. They were patriots, to be sure, but they sensed that millions had died for causes that could not be won. They suspected that their political leaders, captive to their own war-making propaganda, had not weighed the probability of success; they had not acted in a morally responsible fashion when the lives of fathers, sons, and brothers were at stake.

It was the awareness of pointless death on an unheard-of scale and suspicion of irresponsible leadership at the highest levels that led to the moral collapse of Europe. Had the Great Powers agreed to an armistice and peace process in 1915, as Pope Benedict urged, the Russian Revolution would not have occurred. Germany would not have been catapulted into the failed experiment in democracy that ended with Hitler’s rise to power. Mussolini would not have emerged in Italy. French and British societies would not have suffered crises of legitimacy. Even in 1917 the possibility of salvaging the old order remained. But the dogs of war barked fiercely. Causes were deemed sacred, concessions traitorous. During the final months of 1918, as the Allies pressed for victory, casualties on both sides exceeded 1.4 million. Looking back on the futile carnage of World War I, one cannot but conclude that the pope was wise and the political leaders were fools.

The situation in Ukraine is different, but not entirely so. Many military analysts have noted conditions similar to World War I: static fronts, trenches and minefields, endless artillery bombardments, man-eating defensive positions. There’s a political similarity as well. Ukrainian war aims, supported by NATO, seem disconnected from reality. Russia won’t be expelled from the eastern oblasts of Ukraine. Moreover, events on the battlefield in 2023 and early 2024 suggest that Putin will succeed in his war aim of preventing Ukraine from becoming a functional participant in an American-led military alliance.

Men can be thrown into battle and suffer defeat without rancor and resentment. Napoleon’s ability to command the loyalty of men was not diminished by his disastrous retreat from Moscow. But feckless, incompetent, indifferent, and irresponsible leadership is a powerful acid that erodes a social organism. Thus my concern. The fruitless expenditure of human life in pursuit of unwinnable causes is among the most egregious failures of leadership. Is America courting that danger? Does our ardent support of Ukraine and our refusal to entertain diplomatic openings with Moscow amount to the irresponsible use of Ukrainian men as cannon fodder in pursuit of unattainable goals? If the answer is “yes” (and I worry that it is), then it will become increasingly difficult for the United States to exercise global leadership.