How NATO Started the war in Ukraine

The war in Ukraine has dragged on for nearly three years since Russia’s intervention and over a decade since the civil conflict began. It has become a brutal stalemate, with both sides gaining little more than a few inches—reminiscent of World War I. Ukraine’s survival now depends entirely on Western support, but as U.S. aid dwindles, the EU is shouldering the financial burden, pushing itself into economic instability.

Desperation is rising. Some have proposed lowering the conscription age to 18, a move that would devastate Ukraine’s future by sacrificing its younger generations. Others suggest deploying foreign troops, a step that Putin would see as a NATO invasion—potentially sparking a war with Europe.

Peace must be pursued now. Ukraine once had the chance to secure Donbas under Minsk II but rejected it. If negotiations don’t happen soon, the stakes will rise, and Kyiv may not just lose Donbas—but also Odessa or even the capital itself.

In the following lines, I will explain how and why this conflict arose, debunk common arguments for escalating support and warfare, and challenge the justifications often given for Ukraine’s actions.

Ukraine and Russia share a common origin in Kievan Rus, the medieval Eastern Slavic state that flourished in the 9th to 13th centuries. The capital, Kiev, was the heart of this civilization, and in 988, Prince Vladimir of Kiev was baptized into Eastern Orthodoxy, shaping the religious and cultural identity of the region for centuries. Over time, the center of Slavic power shifted to Moscow, but from the Russian perspective, Ukraine was never a separate entity—it was part of their shared history. This deep-rooted connection explains why Russia has always viewed Ukraine not as just another neighboring country but as an integral part of its historical and cultural legacy.

For centuries, Ukraine's territory was a battleground for competing empires—Turks, Poles, Lithuanians, Hungarians, Austrians, and Russians all ruled over different parts of modern Ukraine at various points in history. Under the Russian Tsars, ethnic Russians dominated the eastern industrial cities, while Ukrainian nationalism grew stronger in the western regions, especially in Galicia. When the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, Ukraine inherited Soviet-drawn borders that included large ethnic Russian populations in Crimea, Donbas, and the southeastern regions. The artificial nature of these borders set the stage for future conflicts, as many in these regions remained linguistically, culturally, and emotionally tied to Russia. The same happened with the dissolution of Yugoslavia.

This historical and cultural division is why the Russian government, and particularly Vladimir Putin, sees Eastern Ukraine as vitally important—not just strategically, but also on a personal level. From the Kremlin’s perspective, the millions of ethnic Russians living in Donbas and Crimea were not just political pawns but fellow Russians who needed protection. This was not merely about geopolitics but about history and identity. The inclusion of Donbas and Crimea within Ukraine’s post-Soviet borders was largely a Soviet-era decision, with Lenin’s 1919 border-drawing strategy aiming to keep Ukraine within Moscow’s sphere of influence.

As the Soviet Union was collapsing, Western leaders made a clear and repeated promise to Moscow: NATO would not expand eastward beyond a reunified Germany. This was not just a casual remark but a deliberate assurance given to the Soviet leadership in exchange for their historic concessions, including the withdrawal of Soviet troops from East Germany and their acceptance of German reunification under NATO. However, in the years that followed, the West blatantly broke this promise, expanding NATO all the way to Russia’s borders, setting the stage for the very conflict we see today.

In 1990, as Germany’s reunification was being negotiated, U.S. Secretary of State James Baker met with Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev and offered a deal: if the Soviets allowed Germany to reunify within NATO, the U.S. and its allies would ensure that NATO’s "jurisdiction would not move one inch eastward." This pledge was not just a one-time comment—it was reiterated by multiple Western officials, including West German Chancellor Helmut Kohl, British Prime Minister John Major, and NATO Secretary-General Manfred Wörner. West German Foreign Minister Hans-Dietrich Genscher explicitly stated that NATO would not expand its defensive perimeter toward the Soviet borders, a promise he repeated both publicly and privately.

The Soviets took this pledge seriously, believing that the Cold War was ending in mutual cooperation rather than Western triumphalism. In return for trusting these assurances, Moscow withdrew its forces from Eastern Europe—a massive geopolitical concession that left Russia with no buffer zone between itself and NATO.

Yet, almost immediately after securing these historic Soviet concessions, the West began walking back its promises. When the 1997 NATO-Russia Founding Act was signed, Western leaders subtly began introducing the idea that NATO expansion was not explicitly prohibited. By the late 1990s and early 2000s, NATO had already expanded into Poland, Hungary, and the Czech Republic, followed by the Baltic states, Bulgaria, Romania, and others. By 2014, NATO was actively discussing Ukraine and Georgia as potential members, crossing the very red line that had been warned about for decades.

The United States never intended for NATO to be a temporary alliance. During the Cold War, NATO justified its existence as a defense mechanism against the Soviet Union. But when the USSR collapsed in 1991, NATO needed a new logic to justify its existence and expansion. Rather than dissolving the alliance or restructuring Europe’s security architecture to include a democratic Russia, Washington instead chose to use NATO as a tool for maintaining permanent U.S. global dominance.

For Washington, NATO was never just about security—it was about maintaining full ideological, political, and military control over Europe. The hundreds of U.S. military bases stationed across the continent were never withdrawn after the Cold War. Instead, the U.S. reinforced its presence, ensuring that European nations remained under Washington’s ideological and military influence. The logic was simple: the continued American military occupation of Europe prevented the rise of any independent European security framework that could one day challenge U.S. primacy. The dominance of U.S.-aligned political, economic, and media institutions has buried alternative perspectives and prevented any real ideological diversity from emerging. Any attempt to challenge this order—whether through Euroskepticism, neutrality in foreign policy, or deeper ties with Russia—is met with immediate political and financial suppression.

When Mikhail Gorbachev questioned NATO's purpose after the Cold War, U.S. Secretary of State James Baker responded it was no longer about "keeping the Soviets out" but rather about "keeping the Germans down." Baker warned that without NATO, Germany might develop its own nuclear, biological, or chemical weapons; revealing that the goal of NATO was to remain the dominant force in Europe and prevent the rise of a competing European security framework that might include Russia.

Instead of building a European security structure that included Russia, NATO continued to treat Russia as an enemy even after the fall of the USSR. Western leaders knew that expanding NATO would provoke Russia, but they did it anyway. In 1991, British Prime Minister John Major told Soviet Defense Minister Dmitri Yazov that NATO would not expand, yet later pushed for it. Similarly, President Bill Clinton moved forward with NATO expansion in the late 1990s despite warnings from top U.S. officials that it would "humiliate" Russia and create long-term tensions.

NATO did not just break its promise of "not one inch eastward"—it actively worked to install pro-NATO leaders in Eastern Europe and eliminate those who opposed Western expansion. The West did not wait for governments to naturally align with NATO; instead, it financed coups, overthrew leaders, and even backed terrorist groups to further its geopolitical agenda.

The strategy was clear:

1. Topple governments, regardless of whether they were authoritarian or democratically elected, if they didn’t align with U.S. interests.

2. Install pro-NATO politicians.

3. Push the country into NATO membership.

This was not a spontaneous wave of democracy but a deliberate policy, with millions of dollars flowing through USAID and the National Endowment for Democracy (NED) to fund opposition groups. Some examples of most well-known "Color Revolutions" include: Azerbaijan (1993), Albania (1996), Bulgaria (1996), Montenegro (1997), Romania (1997, 2024), Armenia (1998), Slovakia (1999), Croatia (1999), Serbia (2000), Georgia (2003, 2024), Ukraine (2004, 2014), Kyrgyzstan (2005), Belarus (2004, 2006, 2020), Russia (2011), and Kazakhstan (2022). Each of these "revolutions" followed the same playbook: foreign-funded protests, media manipulation, pressure on institutions, and in some cases, violent uprisings—leading to the overthrow of a leader for a pro-Western government ready to align with NATO.

Western interference did not stop at Eastern Europe—the U.S. even attempted to overthrow Vladimir Putin himself. The 2011–2012 Snow Revolution was a failed U.S.-backed uprising aimed at removing Putin from power. The protests were heavily financed by USAID, NED, and George Soros’s Open Society Foundations, with millions of dollars funneled into opposition activists and propaganda. Adding to the chaos, the movement was infiltrated by radical nationalist and neo-Nazi groups, many of which had direct ties to far-right extremists from Ukraine.

Washington and NATO have overthrown Ukraine’s government multiple times to ensure it keep it away from Russia. In 1994, the U.S. manipulated Ukraine’s elections to favor a pro-Western candidate. Then, in 2004, the Orange Revolution was orchestrated to prevent Viktor Yanukovych, a democratically elected leader who sought balanced relations with Russia and the West, from taking office. Finally, in 2014, during the Maidan Revolution, where the Obama administration openly backed a violent uprising against Yanukovych, who had been elected again in 2010.

Western-backed coups were not the only tool used against Russia and its allies. The U.S. and NATO have a long history of arming and funding terrorist groups—especially radical Islamist militants—to destabilize Russia and pro-Russian states.

• Bosnia (1992–1995): The Clinton administration smuggled thousands of mujahideen fighters from Afghanistan into Bosnia, where they fought against Serbian forces. These foreign fighters were trained in CIA-funded camps, backed by Saudi intelligence, using the same network that armed the Afghan mujahideen against the Soviets. Osama bin Laden himself operated in Bosnia and was even granted a Bosnian passport. Some evidence even suggests that later on, Al-Qaeda used Bosnia as a base for the 9/11 attacks.

• Kosovo (1998–1999): NATO backed the Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA), despite the CIA labeling it a terrorist organization just years earlier. The KLA had direct ties to Al-Qaeda and was involved in drug trafficking, organ smuggling, and ethnic cleansing. NATO armed, trained, and even bombed Serbia to help the KLA. The KLA later became infamous for harvesting organs from Serbian prisoners and advocating genocidal policies against Serbian Christians.

• Kyrgyzstan (2005): NATO-backed Islamist groups later attempted terrorist attacks inside Russia.

• Afghanistan (1995): The U.S. funded the Taliban during the pipeline wars of the 1990s, backing jihadist militants to secure U.S. control over key energy routes in the region. Washington used radical Islamist fighters as proxies to fight geopolitical battles, then later attempted to cover up its support for these same groups when they turned against the U.S.

• Chechnya (1994–2009): The U.S. and its allies armed radical Islamist fighters in Chechnya to wage war against Russia. Many of these fighters had direct ties to Al-Qaeda and had fought alongside Osama bin Laden in Afghanistan. The West portrayed these jihadists as “freedom fighters” despite their involvement in the 2002 Moscow theater hostage crisis and the 2004 Beslan school massacre—both of which resulted in the deaths of hundreds of civilians. Later on, this group would turn against the U.S., causing the Boston Marathon bombing

Imagine if Russia orchestrated multiple coups in Canada and Mexico, installing pro-Moscow regimes eager to join a Russian-led military alliance. Then, Russia armed Mexican cartels and funded separatists in Texas to attack U.S. infrastructure. Finally, Moscow backed an insurrection in Washington, led by extremists demanding regime change. Would the U.S. see this as "democracy" or a direct act of war?

By 2008, the message from Russia was crystal clear: NATO expansion into Ukraine and Georgia was a red line that Moscow would not tolerate. This was not an abstract concern—it was a direct geopolitical warning, repeatedly expressed by Russian leaders, diplomats, and security officials. Yet, despite explicit and urgent warnings from its own diplomats, allies, and intelligence community, Washington chose to ignore reality, pushing forward with NATO expansion at all costs.

This reckless gamble did not just provoke diplomatic tensions—it set the stage for the current war in Ukraine.

In February 2008, William Burns, then U.S. Ambassador to Russia, wrote a highly classified memo to Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, titled "Nyet Means Nyet". In this document, Burns explicitly warned that Ukraine’s NATO aspirations would trigger a violent Russian response, including the possibility of civil war in Ukraine and direct Russian intervention.

Burns wrote:

Ukraine and Georgia’s NATO aspirations not only touch a raw nerve in Russia, they engender serious concerns about the consequences for stability in the region. Not only does Russia perceive encirclement and efforts to undermine Russia’s influence in the region, but it also fears unpredictable and uncontrolled consequences which would seriously affect Russian security interests.

Experts tell us that Russia is particularly worried that the strong divisions in Ukraine over NATO membership, with much of the ethnic-Russian community against membership, could lead to a major split, involving violence or at worst, civil war. In that eventuality, Russia would have to decide whether to intervene; a decision Russia does not want to have to face.

This was not just Burns’ personal opinion—he was summarizing what nearly every major Russian official, strategist, and security analyst had been saying for years:

• Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov explicitly told the U.S. that NATO expansion was a direct military threat to Russia.

• Dmitriy Trenin, a Russian geopolitical expert, called Ukraine "the most potentially destabilizing factor in U.S.-Russian relations."

• The Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs warned that pushing Ukraine into NATO could force Russia to "take appropriate measures" to protect its security interests.

• Even Putin personally warned U.S. officials that NATO expansion into Ukraine would be seen as a hostile act that no Russian leader—no matter how pro-Western—could ignore.

Yet, instead of listening, the Bush administration pushed forward anyway, announcing at the April 2008 NATO summit in Bucharest that Ukraine and Georgia "will become members of NATO." This was the worst possible move—a half-measure that provoked Russia while still failing to provide Ukraine with actual NATO membership or security guarantees.

Not only did Russia oppose NATO expansion into Ukraine and Georgia—so did key NATO allies like Germany and France.

• German Chancellor Angela Merkel and French President Nicolas Sarkozy both strongly opposed pushing NATO eastward, fearing it would provoke Russia into war.

• Merkel was so adamant about keeping Ukraine out of NATO that she personally blocked George W. Bush’s push for a NATO Membership Action Plan (MAP) for Ukraine and Georgia.

• German officials directly warned Washington that NATO expansion into Ukraine was "the last potential cause for war in Europe."

• French officials even suggested a deal for Ukrainian neutrality, which would have stabilized the region—but the U.S. flatly rejected it.

The Bush administration ignored all of these warnings—both from allies and from its own intelligence community—and plowed forward anyway.

Even Burns, CIA Director under Biden, admitted in a memo:

A MAP offer would be seen not as a technical step along a long road toward membership, but as throwing down the strategic gauntlet. Today's Russia will respond. Russian-Ukrainian relations will go into a deep freeze. It will create fertile soil for Russian meddling in Crimea and eastern Ukraine.

This is exactly what happened six years later in 2014—yet U.S. officials still pretend they are "shocked" by Russia’s actions.

The 2014 Maidan revolution in Ukraine is often portrayed as a spontaneous democratic revolution. However, a closer look reveals that it was another color revolution, heavily supported by the United States and its allies to install a pro-Western government while undermining Russian influence in the region. From financing opposition movements to handpicking Ukraine’s future leaders, Washington’s fingerprints were all over the regime change that ultimately led to the ongoing war.

Long before the protests erupted, the U.S. had been actively working to shape Ukraine’s political landscape. Victoria Nuland, then Assistant Secretary of State for European and Eurasian Affairs, openly admitted in 2013 that Washington had invested over $5 billion in Ukraine’s “democratic institutions” since its independence. Much of this funding went through organizations like the National Endowment for Democracy (NED) and USAID, which channeled money to opposition groups, media outlets, and activists.

When Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovych refused to sign an EU Association Agreement in late 2013—opting instead for a more favorable economic deal with Russia—Western-backed opposition groups launched the Maidan protests. NGOs and U.S.-funded media outlets, such as Hromadske TV, played a critical role in organizing and amplifying the protests, pushing a pro-Western narrative and fueling public dissent.

The most damning evidence of U.S. involvement came from a leaked phone call between Victoria Nuland and U.S. Ambassador to Ukraine Geoffrey Pyatt. In the conversation, Nuland was heard discussing which opposition leaders should be placed in power once Yanukovych was ousted. She dismissed EU concerns with the infamous phrase: “Fuck the EU.”

Nuland explicitly stated, “Yats is the guy,” referring to Arseniy Yatsenyuk, a pro-Western politician who was later installed as Ukraine’s Prime Minister after the coup. This conversation showed that Washington was not merely supporting a democratic movement but actively orchestrating the political transition.

Far from being neutral observers, U.S. and European politicians openly encouraged and legitimized the protests. Senator John McCain and Senator Chris Murphy traveled to Kiev, stood on stage with opposition leaders, and pledged U.S. support to the demonstrators. Meanwhile, Nuland personally distributed food and supplies to protesters, reinforcing the image that the U.S. was backing regime change.

The involvement of far-right extremist groups in the protests, such as the neo-Nazi Right Sector and Svoboda Party, was largely ignored by Western media, despite their prominent role in attacking government buildings and police forces.

The turning point of the uprising came on February 20, 2014, when snipers opened fire on both protesters and police officers, killing over 100 people. Western governments immediately blamed Yanukovych’s security forces, but multiple independent reports—including leaked calls and eyewitness testimonies—suggested that the snipers were actually working with opposition factions to escalate the crisis.

A leaked conversation between Estonian Foreign Minister Urmas Paet and EU diplomat Catherine Ashton revealed that the killings were likely carried out by elements of the opposition to delegitimize Yanukovych and justify his removal.

By February 22, Yanukovych fled the capital, fearing for his life. His government collapsed, and within days, the U.S.-approved Yatsenyuk was installed as Prime Minister.

Immediately after Yanukovych’s ouster, the new government signed the EU Association Agreement that had sparked the protests, proving that the goal was never democracy but geopolitical alignment with the West. Other immediate changes included: A purge of pro-Russian politicians, replacing them with U.S.-aligned officials, and a push for NATO membership, despite prior assurances that Ukraine would remain neutral.

Billionaire Petro Poroshenko, a close ally of Washington, was soon elected President, further cementing U.S. control over Ukraine’s political direction.

The 2014 coup was not a grassroots democratic movement but a U.S.-backed regime change operation designed to pull Ukraine into the Western sphere while isolating Russia. This intervention led directly to the Crimean crisis, the war in Donbas, and ultimately the full-scale Russian invasion in 2022.

The war in Ukraine is often portrayed as a simple fight for democracy against Russian aggression, but beneath the surface lies a disturbing history of ultra-nationalism, neo-Nazi influence, and Western complicity. Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, Ukraine has become a breeding ground for far-right extremism, with a level of Nazi influence unmatched anywhere else in the world.

Western media and politicians deliberately ignore this reality, instead pushing a black-and-white narrative that justifies unlimited military aid to Ukraine. But the truth is that NATO and the U.S. have empowered violent, extremist forces, fueling a conflict that could have been avoided.

Unlike mainstream narratives that dismiss Ukrainian fascism as "Russian propaganda," the facts are undeniable:

The country does have the largest number of influential Nazis in the world today. Nowhere else compares, and as will be shown below, the reality has been bad enough to serve as an inspiration to other neo-Nazi factions around the world.
– Scott Horton, Provoked

This is not a fringe movement. Since 1991, neo-Nazi groups like Svoboda, Right Sector, and the Azov Battalion have been deeply embedded in Ukraine’s military, government, and law enforcement.

• Svoboda (formerly the Social Nationalist Party) – Founded in 1991, openly embraces fascist ideology and glorifies Nazi collaborators like Stepan Bandera.

• Azov Battalion – Formed from the far-right Patriot of Ukraine militia, openly uses Nazi symbols and espouses white supremacist beliefs.

• Right Sector – A violent paramilitary group that played a major role in the 2014 coup and later received weapons, training, and funding from NATO.

Despite their extremism, these groups have been legitimized and even integrated into Ukraine’s government and military.

Far from being a simple democratic uprising, Ukraine’s 2014 coup was orchestrated with direct U.S. backing—and relied heavily on these far-right groups:

• Svoboda controlled nearly a quarter of Ukraine’s Cabinet positions after the coup, including deputy prime minister and prosecutor general.

• Andriy Parubiy, a former Nazi militant, became head of Ukraine’s National Security and Defense Council.

• Dmitro Yarosh, leader of Right Sector, was offered a position as deputy head of Ukraine’s National Security Council.

• Azov Battalion was officially incorporated into Ukraine’s National Guard, receiving Western weapons, training, and funding.

Given Ukraine’s history, the rise of ultra-nationalist factions after 2014, and the persecution of Russian-speaking populations, it is logical that Putin saw the need to defend Donbas and the ethnic russians in the region.

After the U.S.-backed Maidan coup in 2014, the political and cultural divisions between Western Ukraine and the Russian-speaking East erupted into open dissent. The new government in Kyiv, dominated by pro-Western nationalists, alienated large segments of the eastern population, particularly in Donetsk and Luhansk, who felt disenfranchised and threatened by the radical political shift. This led to widespread protests, occupations of government buildings, and the eventual formation of the Donetsk and Luhansk People’s Republics (DPR and LPR)—not as separatist movements, but as a response to the Western-backed coup in Kyiv.

In the weeks following the Maidan coup, large-scale protests erupted in Kharkiv, Donetsk, Luhansk, and other cities in Eastern Ukraine. Protesters occupied government buildings, refusing to recognize the legitimacy of the new junta. These movements were not initially pro-separatist but instead called for greater autonomy and protection of their cultural and linguistic rights.

Their demands were fueled by actions of the new government, including:

• The attempt to repeal Russian’s status as a regional language, signaling an attack on Russian speakers.

• The rise of far-right nationalist factions, including the Svoboda Party and Right Sector, whose members were given key positions in the new government.

• The bus attack in Cherkasy, where anti-Maidan activists were violently assaulted, reinforcing fears of persecution.

The regional tensions between East and West Ukraine were not new. In 1994, Donetsk and Luhansk had already held referendums on federalism and the status of the Russian language. While the results were never implemented, they highlighted a clear divide in identity, language, and political orientation.

Even in 2010, surveys showed that only 51.2% of Ukrainians identified primarily as Ukrainians, with many in the East identifying more with their region or Russia. The Maidan coup only exacerbated these divisions.

After weeks of protests and failed negotiations, local leaders declared the formation of the Donetsk and Luhansk People’s Republics (DPR and LPR) in April 2014. These new administrations were not seeking full independence or annexation by Russia, but rather greater autonomy within Ukraine.

Kyiv, however, refused to negotiate. Instead, on April 8, 2014, Acting President Oleksandr Turchynov declared the dissidents "terrorists" and launched an “anti-terrorist operation” (ATO) to crush the movement. This was done before any Russian forces were involved.

This heavy-handed response backfired, escalating tensions and solidifying local support for the DPR and LPR.

Despite Western claims of Russian aggression, Putin initially discouraged Donbas separatists. In May 2014, he even urged them to cancel their autonomy referendum. However, Kyiv’s military assaults, including airstrikes and shelling of civilian areas, forced Russia to provide limited military support to protect ethnic Russians in the region.

Had Kyiv respected the demands for autonomy and engaged in good-faith negotiations, the Donbas war could have been avoided. Instead, they chose to use brute force, leading to a brutal eight-year war that would later set the stage for Russia’s full-scale intervention in 2022.

The conflict in Donbas was not a Russian invasion, but a Ukrainian civil war provoked by the U.S.-backed coup. The people of Donetsk and Luhansk did not want to break away from Ukraine—they wanted protection from a government that had been installed by Washington and filled with nationalist extremists. Instead of respecting their democratic right to reject the illegitimate coup government, Kyiv, with full U.S. support, launched a war against its own people.

One of the most commonly cited arguments in favor of Western intervention in Ukraine is the Budapest Memorandum of December 1994, which supposedly obligated the United States to defend Ukraine in exchange for Kyiv giving up the nuclear weapons left behind by the USSR. However, this is a complete misrepresentation of what the agreement actually says.

The Budapest Memorandum contains security “assurances”—not security guarantees. The U.S. never promised to go to war to protect Ukraine. The strongest commitment made by the signatories was to seek immediate United Nations Security Council action to provide "assistance" to Ukraine if it were attacked, particularly with nuclear weapons. Furthermore, "assistance" is deliberately vague—it could mean anything or nothing at all.

This is not a treaty obligating the U.S. to defend Ukraine, much less go to war for them. This is exactly the difference between being a NATO member and not. Even NATO’s Article 5, which is often portrayed as a rock-solid defense commitment, is actually intentionally ambiguous. It only states that NATO members “will assist” the attacked party “as it deems necessary”, which does not even guarantee military action.

Another argument frequently made by war advocates is that Ukraine never would have been attacked if it had kept its nuclear weapons. But this is a misleading historical narrative.

First, the nuclear weapons Ukraine "gave up" never actually belonged to them—they were part of the Soviet nuclear arsenal, controlled from Moscow. Ukraine never had the launch codes, making the weapons useless without Russian cooperation. As Ukraine’s former minister of environmental protection and nuclear safety, Yuri Kostenko, admitted, Kyiv did not even have full knowledge of the technical specifications of the nuclear stockpile it inherited.

Even if Ukraine had somehow taken control of the weapons, it would have struggled to maintain them. The SS-19 and SS-24 ICBMs left behind were high-maintenance, expensive systems that would have required significant resources to keep operational. Moreover, these missiles were designed to target the U.S., not Russia, meaning they would have had little strategic use against Moscow. If Ukraine had actually managed to make them operational or acquired new nuclear weapons, Russia would have likely launched a preemptive strike much earlier to neutralize the threat.

Ironically, while the U.S. claims Russia violated the Budapest Memorandum, Washington itself was in violation first. The memorandum explicitly states that the U.S. and its signatories must "respect the independence and sovereignty" of Ukraine and must not engage in subversive activities directed at overthrowing the regime of another participating state.

Yet in 2014, the U.S. openly supported the Maidan coup, which violently removed Ukraine’s democratically elected government. By funding and assisting the overthrow of Ukraine’s leadership, Washington itself violated the very agreement it now accuses Russia of breaking.

The Budapest Memorandum is not a binding defense treaty, and it does not justify Western intervention in Ukraine. It was a political agreement filled with vague promises, not a commitment to war. The nuclear weapons argument is equally misleading, as Ukraine never truly controlled them and would have faced severe consequences had it attempted to use them.

No serious military analyst believes that Ukraine can fully regain its lost territory. The least destructive option is to end the war as it stands now. Yet, war proponents invoke the ghost of Neville Chamberlain, insisting that any peace agreement is "appeasement" and that more war is always better.

The Neville Chamberlain argument dates back to 1938, when the British Prime Minister signed the Munich Agreement with Adolf Hitler. This agreement allowed Germany to annex the Sudetenland from Czechoslovakia in hopes of avoiding war. Chamberlain famously declared he had secured "peace for our time," but Hitler continued his expansion, leading to World War II. Ever since, war hawks have argued that negotiating with an adversary is always a mistake because it will only embolden them to take more territory later.

This logic has been weaponized to justify endless war under the assumption that war is always better than appeasement. The idea is that any compromise shows weakness and that only military force can deter future aggression.

This Chamberlain-Hitler analogy was precisely the excuse used in 2022 to reject a peace deal that would have granted Donbas greater autonomy while keeping it part of Ukraine. Western war hawks in the U.S. and EU pressured Zelenskyy to refuse the agreement, prolonging the war unnecessarily. And what happened? Ukraine lost Donbas completely, and now it is firmly under Russian control.

Now, the only alternative is even more dangerous: direct NATO intervention in Ukraine, which would trigger a full-scale war between NATO and Russia. Since NATO is overwhelmingly stronger than Russia, the Kremlin may see itself as a cornered animal with no escape, but by pushing Russia into an existential crisis, the risk of nuclear war increases dramatically. History shows that when states feel they have no alternatives, they take extreme measures. If Russian leadership believes that military defeat means the collapse of their government—or even the destruction of Russia as a state—they may see nuclear war as their only alternative.

European war hawks claim that if Putin is allowed to take Donbas unpunished, he will then march into Poland, the Balkans, Finland, and even Eastern Germany. However, these same people also claim that Russia is losing the war in Ukraine, that it is a weak, economically devastated country on the brink of collapse. Both cannot be true. If Russia is too weak to defeat Ukraine, how could it possibly wage war against NATO or China?

The reality is that Russia is a mid-sized economy—not in economic collapse, but also far from capable of fighting multiple NATO countries. While it is winning against Ukraine, that is a very different scenario from fighting NATO forces. If Russia went to war with Poland, and consequently against NATO, it would be an existential struggle.

Moreover, if Putin were truly an imperialist madman, why didn’t he go all the way into Tbilisi in 2008? During the Russia-Georgia war, after defeating Saakashvili’s forces, the Russian army stopped after securing South Ossetia and Abkhazia. If Putin's goal was mindless territorial expansion, why did he not overthrow the Georgian government and annex the entire country? The answer is simple: his interventions have always been strategic, not reckless.

The myth of Putin as an imperialist expansionist ignores that every Russian military intervention in the last 30 years has had a clear strategic objective—not random conquest:

• Crimea (2014) → Russia secured its naval base in Sevastopol, which Ukraine was threatening.

• Chechnya (1999-2009) → Russia fought radical Islamist insurgents after terrorist attacks in Moscow.

• Georgia (2008) → Georgia’s President Saakashvili started the war, and Russia responded to protect South Ossetia and Abkhazia—but stopped short of taking Tbilisi.

• Syria (2015) → Russia intervened to defend its naval base in Tartus and protect Syrian Christians against Al-Qaeda and ISIS-affiliated groups.

Russia does not intervene randomly; it acts based on security interests. The idea that Putin wants to "reinstate the USSR" is pure Western propaganda designed to justify endless military spending and NATO expansion. Russia is not an expansionist superpower—it is a regional power that defends strategic interests when threatened. If Putin were a reckless imperialist, he would have already seized much more territory—but he hasn’t, because his moves have always been calculated, not maniacal.

A common argument is that any sovereign country should have the right to join NATO if it wants to. However, this argument is flawed for two main reasons.

A country is made up of different factions, and not all of them support NATO membership. If the question of NATO accession were put to a vote in eastern Ukraine, it would likely receive less than 10% support. This means that NATO expansion does not just affect a unified "nation", but rather deeply divided societies, where one faction is forced to live under a decision they strongly oppose. In such cases, protecting the rights of minorities should be a priority before making drastic geopolitical moves. This is exactly what happened in Kosovo and Bosnia, where large portions of the population did not want to be part of Serbia and its national project. The West justified their right to secede from Serbia in the name of self-determination, yet denies the same principle when it comes to eastern Ukraine and its desire to break away from Kyiv's rule.

It’s not only up to the country that wants to join NATO—it’s also up to NATO to decide whom to invite. NATO does not offer membership to every state in the world—it carefully chooses who gets in based on strategic interests.

If NATO truly allowed anyone to join, then why is it not giving membership to Taiwan or Chechnya?

Because NATO knows that admitting certain members could cause catastrophic geopolitical consequences. If NATO blindly accepted anyone, it would be fueling global instability rather than preventing it.

Thus, NATO must be cautious and moderate in who it takes in. It must debate with other global powers to ensure a smooth transition rather than recklessly expanding without regard for the consequences. The failure to recognize NATO's responsibility in fueling tensions is what has led to conflicts like the one in Ukraine today.

What is happening in Ukraine is nothing new—it follows the same pattern of Eastern European conflicts that NATO has been involved in before. If we look at history, we see that NATO has taken completely contradictory positions depending on its geopolitical interests.

After the fall of the Soviet Union and the breakup of Yugoslavia, the region of Krajina in Croatia became a battleground. Krajina was ethnically Serbian, and after the creation of independent Croatia, they wanted independence and possibly reunification with Serbia.

What happened?

• Croatia rejected their demands, leading to a war between Serbia and Croatia.

• NATO intervened on Croatia’s side and bombed Serbian positions.

• After the war, there were accusations that Croatia had ethnically cleansed Serbians from Krajina.

NATO sided against the ethnic separatists in Krajina, favoring the existing borders of Croatia—even though the people in Krajina did not want to be part of Croatia.

Kosovo was the exact opposite scenario but with a completely different NATO response.

• Kosovo was a Serbian province but had a majority ethnic Albanian population that wanted independence and possibly reunification with Albania.

• Serbia refused to allow Kosovo to break away, leading to war.

• This time, NATO intervened on the side of the separatists, bombing Serbia until Kosovo became independent.

Why did NATO side with Croatia against Serbian separatists in Krajina but then side with Kosovo separatists against Serbia? The answer is simple: NATO’s goal was not about "democracy" or "self-determination"—it was about destroying Serbia, Russia’s closest ally in the region.

By crushing Serbia, NATO ensured that Russia had no powerful allies in the Balkans and eliminated the possibility of a future strong pro-Russian bloc in Europe. The justification was always "human rights" or "democracy," but the real goal was geopolitical control.

Fast forward to modern Ukraine, and we see the same case as Kosovo—but NATO refuses to apply the same principles.

• Donbas was part of Ukraine after the fall of the USSR, but its population never wanted to be part of Ukraine.

• After 2014, Ukraine started attacking the region, and the Donbas wanted to be independent or join Russia—just like Kosovo wished to be independent from Serbia.

• Ukraine refused—just like Serbia refused with Kosovo—So Russia had to intervene.

Why was it "liberation" when NATO bombed Serbia for Kosovo but an "invasion" when Russia supported Donbas? The answer is simply hypocrisy. NATO does not care about international law, sovereignty, or democracy—it cares about expanding its influence and weakening Russia at all costs

The war in Ukraine is not just a regional conflict but the result of decades of geopolitical maneuvering, broken promises, and Western intervention. From NATO’s expansion in defiance of verbal agreements to the 2014 U.S.-backed Maidan coup, Ukraine has been shaped into a battleground for broader power struggles. The presence of neo-Nazi factions, the suppression of Russian-speaking populations, and the rejection of diplomatic solutions like Minsk II have all contributed to the current crisis.

Ukraine is now trapped in an unwinnable war. The reality is clear: Ukraine cannot reclaim all its lost territory, and continued Western support only prolongs suffering and destruction. A negotiated settlement is the only rational path forward. If Ukraine and its backers refuse to pursue peace, they may find themselves facing even greater territorial losses and a devastating future.