Have you noticed how certain phrases suddenly fall into common parlance? The concept of being on ‘the wrong side of history’ is one that I noticed recently — particularly in relation to the ‘special military operation’ (there’s another one) initiated by the Russians on their neighbor, Ukraine. But let’s call these, what they are; euphemisms — expressions that attempt to mask the truth of being plain wrong and starting wars.
Like most ideas that govern politics these days, it is somewhat binary — and the political actors that dominate the conversation gets to say, which is the right and which is the wrong. Like an earlier dictator on the wrong side of history last century, Vladimir Putin has used some very sketchy history lessons to justify the unification of certain sovereign states. In a dull diktat, he concluded that Ukraine was always a part of the Russky Mir and at least until a year ago, had convinced himself that the Ukrainians would feel the same way and welcome his invading army of rapists, torturers and murderers with bread and salt.
But if you look back in history at the formation of the region, you can see it could have gone other ways too. Kiev was indeed the shining capital of the East at the time when Moscow barely existed (Moscow is first documented in 1147) and the city was a vital staging post in the commerce between Scandinavia and Constantinople (with the de facto rulers at the time being of Varangian Vikings from Sweden).
By the 12th century, the Mongols under Batu Khan had set their sights upon Europe and the first port of call was Mariupol (sound familiar?) which they sacked in 1223 before they spread out across the Steppes and finally assaulted Kiev in 1240 before moving on to Poland and Hungary. Six years after the initial siege of Kiev, the pope’s envoy Giovanni de Plano Carpini, described the devastation of the city, still in ruins:
They (the Mongols) attacked Rus’, where they made great havoc, destroying cities and fortresses and slaughtering men; and they laid siege to Kiev, the capital of Rus’; after they had besieged the city for a long time, they took it and put the inhabitants to death. When we were journeying through that land we came across countless skulls and bones of dead men lying about on the ground. Kiev had been a very large and thickly populated town, but now it has been reduced almost to nothing, for there are at the present time scarce two hundred houses there and the inhabitants are kept in complete slavery.’
The people of Kiev were well on their way to being integrated into Scandinavia and Europe but the Mongol invasion put paid to that and also laid the ground for the dominance of Russia in Moscow. Less than a century later, a rebellion against the Mongol overlords by Prince Alexandr of Tver led to Moscow’s regional dominance.
After the prince of Tver joined a rebellion against the Mongols in 1327, his rival prince, Ivan I of Moscow joined the Mongols in crushing Tver and devastating its lands. This double dealing handed power to the Muscovite prince and laid the path for the creation of Russia as the regional hegemon which continued under the Czars and continues to this day with the Putin kleptocracy.
I know it’s tempting to create equivalence between the latter day Mongols and the present day Russians, but the lessons learnt from the Golden Horde and the Russians’ continuing quest for brutal destructive conquest to this day does seem to resonate across the centuries.
Even the Chinese’s present lust for power and conquest can be in some sense attributed to the legacy of the Khan. Just like Ukraine was made subservient to its lesser neighbour, so too was Tibet, which at its height in the 780s to 790s, ruled and controlled a vast territory stretching from modern day Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Bhutan, Burma, China, India, Nepal, and Pakistan as well as Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan.
By 1266, Kublai Khan had established what would become the capital of China, Beijing and the foundation of the Yuan dynasty which extended from 1271 to 1368. In that time, China’s regional influence grew, and Tibet began its steady descent into the administrative region annexed by the CCP since 1950. For China, like Russia, neighboring states or any place that was once deemed its territory can be reclaimed, as we see now in the threat to retake Taiwan.
The world has witnessed any number of empires, which have risen and fallen, and their greatness has been no shield to impermanence. What is interesting is to see into what form they devolve after their greatness is gone. Tibet has been under the heel of the CCP for more than seven decades now and will remain so for any foreseeable future. Ukraine like its neighbor, Belarus is threatened with being absorbed into Russia, Soviet style if Putin has his way.
The lessons of history are almost invariably written and rewritten by the victors. It’s understandable that the Ukrainians see their opportunity to throw off the chains of history once and for all before their post-Soviet identity is erased.
Both modern China and Russia are autocracies, with the power of the state focused in the hands of one person. While being the most common and durable regime type since the emergence of the state, it probably has more to do with ruthless oppression than free will. Admittedly, democracies can be badly run, but the option to throw out the leader in favour of another by plebiscite is clearly better than to be subject to the caprices and cruelties of a deluded ‘great leader’.
Clearly, in the case of Russia and China, the conquest mentality of the Khan casts a long shadow.
I would like to think that as Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “Let us realize the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” This being the case, one must also accept the fact that the arc also encompasses a great deal of injustice, demolished cities, and the mass graves of the dead.
If one looks coolly and rationally at the Ukraine conflict, it is obvious that despite history, using war to resolve issues in the 21st century is on the wrong side. It is a tragedy that has also underlined in real time the belief in justice over oppression and the resilience of the human spirit as a bulwark against raw aggression.
Russia has forgotten the lessons of history. A brief look at their old adversary Germany is a good lesson. Germanic tribes, once so powerful they once took on the might of Rome united in war not once but twice in the last century. Since that debacle, it moved on rejecting autocracy and dictatorship and, by applying the same energy economically, sought to educate its Eastern neighbor, and former foe, Russia. Wandel durch handel has been proven now to be a failure, leaving conflict and harsh economic sanctions as the only way forward.
Undoubtedly, the presence of German manufactured tanks on Ukrainian soil is a lightning rod to Russian propagandists but it is also a sad reminder of the adage, that those who want peace must also prepare for war. It is also a major inflection point for Germany and the free world to stoke the engines of war and invoke the military spirit that defined the last century.
As a recent article in the Atlantic has shown, the lessons of history are uncertain, and tragedy is eternal. As the Ukraine war enters its second year and threatens to engulf the world, it is sobering to realize that being on the right side of history carries multiple inconsistencies:
‘The three lessons of the past year — war is never straightforward; power is not based on weapons; national identity has military value — should come as a relief to supporters of democracy. The great tragedy is that they had to be relearned in the first place.’
Let us all hope that the West in this century can do to Russia what it achieved with Germany in the last but without an escalation that will leave us all on the wrong side of history.
The coming years will be critical for all humanity.
