When Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy refused Washington’s offer to evacuate him from Kyiv following Russia’s full-scale invasion, stating, “I need ammunition, not a ride,” the world hailed him as a modern Winston Churchill. Three years later, Donald Trump is referring to him as a “dictator” who should “never have started [the war].” What happened?
The core of the issue lies in the idea that Russia’s President Vladimir Putin invaded Ukraine because he fears Western encroachment from the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO). This is a narrative intended to falsely shift the blame for Russian aggression on Ukraine, to paint Russia as an agent undertaking violent action purely because it was left with no alternative choice. All one has to do is look to Finland, which faced no military aggression from Moscow when it joined NATO in April of 2023 (despite sharing approximately 830 miles of border with Russia), to see how this idea crumbles when confronted with any ounce of pressure. But Trump and a good majority of the Western world have chosen to believe it, and have thus fallen — in embarrassingly easy fashion — into the trap Putin has laid for them.
What Putin actually fears is the possibility of Ukraine escaping the Russian sphere of influence. For centuries, the Russian Empire, Soviet Union and Russian Federation have attempted to commandeer Ukrainian history, lands, language, culture and more in order to delegitimize Ukrainian claims to independent statehood. This was the catalyst for Russia’s initial invasion of Ukraine in 2014 when it illegally annexed the Crimean Peninsula in response to the Euromaidan protests over then-president Viktor Yanukovych’s decision not to sign an agreement that would have integrated Ukraine more closely with the European Union. After all, if Ukraine of all countries — a close neighbor that Russia has spent centuries attempting to subjugate — was to escape Moscow’s influence, it would prove catastrophic for the Russian Federation’s image and claim to power on the international stage. It would be reduced back to the rump state that it was in the aftermath of the USSR’s collapse. No need to look any further for a description of Putin’s deepest fear.
If Ukraine was brought back under Russian control, however, it would be undeniably the most critical step taken toward rebuilding the Russian imperial state since the Soviet Union fell. Putin, during a 2022 discussion in which he alluded to himself as a modern Peter the Great, made it clear that this was his goal. The year prior, he had published a 5,000-word article that lamented the “artificial divisions” of Russians and Ukrainians; it also included lengthy critiques of the alleged “Ukrainian neo-Nazis” and use of Ukraine as a “springboard” against Russia by Europe — all rhetoric he has since used to justify the 2022 full-scale invasion. But, in reading his words, one does not have to think particularly hard to realize that Putin’s ultimate reason for invading Ukraine was to lay the foundations for a new Russian Empire.
Now that Trump and the United States are sidelining Ukraine as they attempt to negotiate an end to the war with Russia, Putin is closer than ever to achieving what he set out to do. U.S. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth’s claims that Ukrainian NATO membership is unrealistic and that Kyiv should “abandon hopes of winning all its territory back from Russia” compound this. So, while Putin may not have toppled Kyiv with the swift efficiency he initially hoped, the message he has been sent is clear: the U.S., whose aid served as a bulwark for Ukraine during the Biden administration, will no longer be an obstacle to the modern Russian imperial project, but will rather enable it. The next steps for Putin are painfully clear: Russia will continue its attempts to once again subjugate former Soviet states, as well as the rest of Ukraine (assuming it remains partially independent following the present “negotiations”). Death, displacement and despair will continue to flourish in the name of Russian imperialism, and the cycle of history will repeat.
On a more positive note, the present reality reinforces the importance of activity among the Ukrainian diaspora to preserve Ukrainian history, language and culture. It is moments like these where groups on campus, such as the Fordham Ukrainian Society, take on the critical role of providing students with Ukrainian heritage, or simply an interest in the country, a place to come together and share their struggles, their curiosities, their happiest memories. Borders will inevitably shift, lands may change possession, but the true things that tie people of a common heritage together will remain. It is in these elements that we must rehabilitate, reinvigorate and rejoice.
But I cannot conclude without issuing a final warning to be vigilant. The amount of people who have fallen for Russian propaganda surrounding Ukraine suggests that it is not as easy to avoid it as you might initially expect. When it comes to imperialism, the narratives of the aggressor must always be questioned; you must always read between the lines of their rhetoric. The lives and stories of those who have been victimized must be listened to and amplified. History may repeat itself this time, but in the future, we must do more to ensure that the cycle is broken.
Amy Herd, FCRH ’25, is an international studies and history double major from Bethlehem, Pa.
