Major upheavals sometimes make for unusual bedfellows, as the Russian assault on Ukraine shows. Like its allies, Germany, the most successful economy in Europe and a pivotal member of the European Union, feels threatened by the unprovoked attack on a country neighbouring EU and NATO, which might be followed by further steps aimed at altering Europe’s political orientations and borders. Multi-level support for Ukraine, therefore, is presumed to be in Berlin’s best interest. Nevertheless, such a view is based on problematic simplifications similar to those for which past governments in Germany have been blamed after the outbreak of an invasion.
In point of fact, before the Russian attack, Germans had been rather indifferent regarding Ukraine. That Russia had annexed Crimea, and established semi-independent entities in Donbas in 2014, did not much trouble Berlin. The Merkel government agreed to the two Minsk Agreements of 2014 and 2015, seeking some compromise between Russian and Ukrainian claims, fully aware that such measures could not secure even a highly fragile status quo. After the Crimea annexation by Russia, Germany also signed an agreement for the Nord Stream 2 pipeline from Russia through the Baltic Sea. The old Cold War concept of binding Moscow to coexistence through economic cooperation made Germany dependent on Russian gas to a dangerous extent at a moment when President Putin had already revealed his security concerns by taking what he termed preventive action in Moldova, Georgia and Ukraine.
Back in 2005, Germany and France had blocked NATO-membership for Ukraine, warning against unnecessarily provoking Russia. Berlin was among those who, for good reason, saw no chance of Ukraine joining the EU. Corruption is endemic in Ukraine; the country being ranked 120 out of 180 on credible indices of worldwide corruption before the war. Moreover, Ukraine was far from domestically stable, with two revolutions in 2004 and 2014. On the other hand, Germans were proud to nourish their traditional cultural contacts and friendship with Russia, ignoring the many problematic aspects of this partnership, including the lack of democratic process in Russia and accusations of a Russian cyber-war against the West.
After the Russian invasion of Ukraine, the Germans finally awoke to Russian realities, only to proceed to the other extreme and romanticise Ukraine, instead. Overnight, the corrupt and incompetent Ukrainians became heroes and their nation a beacon of democracy. Official representatives of Ukraine are being given hitherto unknown space in the German and western media, some leaving more than a dubious impression. In Berlin, Ukraine is represented by an overt supporter of the late notorious Fascist Stephan Bandera, and this undiplomatic ambassador furthermore has made it a point to offend everyone in the German government while at the same time demanding ever more money and weapons. While the embarrassment and disquiet of German ministries and political parties are mostly kept under wraps, this ambassador feels free to pursue his anti-German campaigns which are popular in like-minded Poland and some other parts of Eastern Europe. Self-flagellation has become something of a ritual in post-1945 Germany, and at least for some, this extraordinary envoy serves that purpose in his unique fashion.
On the face of it, as far as the western media is concerned, there is perfect harmony between the 600,000 Ukrainian refugees and their German hosts. It is true that many Germans are supportive, and more so than in 2015 during the Arab refugee influx, which reveals the various prejudices in the European attitude towards ‘Orientals’ as opposed to white-complexioned Europeans. A visit to the Berlin main station, however, undertaken in the second week of the war, indicated sundry difficulties the media does not report: some of the refugees, surprisingly many working-age males rather than vulnerable senior citizens, females and minors, appeared to have somewhat excessive expectations regarding accommodation in German urban centres, which are difficult to find or afford even for the local population. And then again, none of the refugees wanted to be accommodated with any non-white family, even if German passport-holding and Russian-speaking. Xenophobia is truly a widespread phenomenon all over Eastern Europe; for example, Moroccans who had studied in Ukraine before being forced to evacuate faced open discrimination before the war and all manner of harassments and even violence from the Ukrainian police and border forces when trying to leave the country.
In principle, Ukraine and Ukrainians might deserve to be supported against President Putin’s invasion. Politicians, the media and people in Germany and the broader Europe, however, would be well advised to take a more realistic view. The task to integrate Ukrainians, probably for an indefinite future, will not be any easier than in the case of North Africans, Arabs or Afghans. Furthermore, suffering an onslaught does not turn the victim into a saint. The old naivety with regard to Russia must not be replaced by a new one in respect of Ukraine.
(Amit Das Gupta is a scholar with the Army University Munich. Krishnan Srinivasan is a former foreign secretary)