Russia-Ukraine Conflict For Css
Russia-Ukraine Conflict For Css
RUSSIA-UKRAINE WAR
Is this Cold War II? | Battle for the Black
Sea | Ukraine war impact on the US dollar
Russia-Ukraine conflict: Is this Cold War II?
The Hindu|Authored by Stanly Johny
The writer is the International Affairs Editor of The Hindu
The Russo-Turkish war of 1768-74 was one of the most consequential conflicts for
the global balance of power in the 18th century. After the war, Russia, under
Empress Catherine the Great, got access to the Black Sea through the Kerch and
Azov seaports and officially became the “protector” of the Orthodox Christians of the
Ottoman Empire. In 1783, nine years after the war was over, Prince Grigory
Potemkin, a Grand Admiral in the imperial Russian Army and a favourite of the
Empress, annexed the Crimean Peninsula that juts into the Black Sea in the name
of protecting its Christians, amid violent clashes between Christians and Crimean
Tatars (a Turkic ethnic group). The annexation gave Russia seamless access to the
Black Sea’s warm waters, helping its rise as a naval power.
There are interesting parallels between the imperial annexation of Crimea in the
18th century and the Russian annexation of the peninsula in 2014. Prince Potemkin
is credited to have built Russia’s Black Sea fleet in 1783 with Crimea’s Sevastopol
being its principal base. Ever since, Russia has retained its influence over Crimea in
one way or the other. During the Soviet period, Crimea was the centre of Russia’s
Black Sea manoeuvres. When the Soviet Union disintegrated in 1991, Crimea
became part of the newly independent Ukraine, but continued to host Russia’s
Black Sea fleet. Moscow’s grip over the peninsula faced its first real threat in 2014
when the elected government of President Viktor Yanukovych in Ukraine was
brought down by violent protests that were backed by the West. Six years earlier,
the US had offered NATO membership to Ukraine and Georgia, both Black Sea basin
countries and former Soviet republics.
With the regime change in Kyiv, Russia, faced with the prospect of Ukraine having a
pro-Western, NATO-friendly government hostile towards Moscow, moved quickly. If
protection of the Orthodox Christians was the raison d’être of Prince Potemkin’s
annexation of Crimea in the 18th century, protection of the Russian-speaking
population was President Vladimir Putin’s official explanation for the annexation of
the region in 2014. In the end, the annexation allowed Russia to retain a
strategically important peninsula where it could project force through the
Mediterranean Sea and the waters beyond. But there was one key difference. If the
imperial annexation cemented Russia’s “great power” status and led to the rise of its
Navy, Putin’s annexation of Crimea and his support for separatists in the Donbas
region of eastern Ukraine (Donetsk and Luhansk Oblasts) marked the beginning of a
prolonged conflict, which has snowballed into Europe’s largest security crisis,
especially after the Russian leader’s decision to invade Ukraine on February 14,
2022.
Russia’s security concerns
Russia, the world’s largest country by land mass, lacks natural borders except the
Arctic Ocean in the north and the Pacific in the far east. Its vast land borders
stretch from northern Europe to central and north-east Asia. Its heartland, from St.
Petersburg through Moscow to the Volga region, that lies on vast plains is a
defender’s nightmare. Historically, expansion was the best defence for Russian
leaders—as Catherine the Great once famously said: “I have no way to defend my
borders but to extend them.” And this nightmare was proven right twice in the last
two centuries when Russia saw two devastating invasions from its western
borders—the 1812 attack by Napoleonic France and the 1941 attack by Nazi
Germany. Russia defeated them both, but only after suffering enormous material
and human losses.
In March 1999, in the first expansion since the end of the Cold War, the Czech
Republic, Hungary and Poland (all were members of the Soviet-led Warsaw Pact)
joined NATO. Five years later, seven more countries — including the three Baltic
countries of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, all of which share borders with Russia—
were also taken into the alliance. If in the early 1990s, NATO’s border with Russia
was limited to the northern fringes of Norway, now the distance from NATO’s
Estonian border to St. Petersburg, the imperial capital of Russia, is less than 160
km.
But NATO didn’t stop there. In 2008, the US promised membership to Georgia and
Ukraine at the Bucharest summit. Russia, coming out of the post-Soviet retreat,
responded forcefully. For the Kremlin, both Ukraine and Georgia are critical for its
national security calculations. If these countries join NATO, it will not only bring the
trans-Atlantic nuclear military alliance even closer to Russia’s borders (the distance
from the Ukrainian border to Moscow is less than 500 km), but also make Russia’s
position in the Black Sea, its gateway to the world, more vulnerable. Turkey,
Bulgaria and Romania, all Black Sea basin countries, are already NATO members.
So, in 2008, Putin sent troops to Georgia over the separatist conflict in South
Ossetia and Abkhazia; and in 2014, he annexed Crimea and threw his weight
behind the separatists in the Donbas.
The road to war
Since 2008 Putin has made several calculated geopolitical moves seeking to address
Russia’s security challenges and restore its role as a major global player. By sending
troops to Georgia that year, he effectively stalled the country’s NATO ambitions. In
2014, he took Crimea through a referendum without fighting an actual war with
Ukraine. In 2015, he took advantage of Barack Obama’s strategic ambivalence over
Syria and sent troops to the civil war-struck West Asian country where the regime of
President Bashar al Assad was on the brink. The Russian intervention helped Putin
not only keep Russia’s Tartus naval base in the Mediterranean—its only naval base
outside the former Soviet sphere—but also establish some leverage over Syria’s
neighbours Turkey and Israel (both have stayed neutral in the Ukraine war).
Putin has also strengthened the Russian presence in Central Asia and the
Caucasus—he sent “peacekeepers” to Nagorno-Karabakh to end the war between
Armenia and Azerbaijan in 2020, and dispatched soldiers to Kazakhstan earlier this
year to restore order in the protest-shaken country. While all these moves—
exploiting geopolitical opportunities with limited forces for maximum gain—helped
Putin reposition Russia, they appear to have been trial runs before his biggest
strategic bet—the invasion of Ukraine.
With limited deployment, the Russians made substantial territorial gains in Ukraine
but fell short of their actual goals. Seven months into the war, Russia has not got
even the whole of the Donbas (it has the whole of Luhansk and some 65 per cent of
The Battle of Fidonisi, named after the island which was called Fidonisi by the
Greeks, was the first naval battle of the 1787-1792 Russo-Turkish War. While the
Russian victory in the waters near Fidonisi did not have an immediate impact on the
war, the defeat of the superior Ottoman Navy was a morale booster for the Russian
troops. The Russians had taken Crimea a few years earlier, ending Ottoman
Sultan’s dominance in the Black Sea. Its fleet was relatively new and weaker
compared to the Ottoman Navy. Still, they managed to force the Ottoman ships to
retreat. Five months later, Russian troops stormed Ozi, captured the town and
renamed it as Ochakov, which is now home to Ukraine Navy’s operational control
centre.
Fidonisi is now called the Snake Island. On the first day of President Vladimir
Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, Russia’s Navy seized the island, which lies just 35 km
off Ukraine’s southwestern coast. For over four months, the Russians held the
island under their control, while they made battlefield gains in Ukraine’s eastern
Donbas region. But on Thursday, faced with relentless Ukrainian attacks, Russia
announced that it was exiting the island. The Russian version is that they were
withdrawing troops as a “goodwill gesture” to show that Russia wasn’t blocking food
exports from Ukraine. But Kyiv says they forced the Russian troops out of the rock.
The island covering just 0.17 square km (roughly the size of 20 football fields) has
played an outsize role in most of the wars Russia fought in the Black Sea since the
Battle of Fidonisi. It came under the control of Romania in 1877. In the First World
War, Russia, in an alliance with Romania, had operated a wireless station on the
island, which was destroyed by Ottoman warships. But as the Ottomans were
defeated in the war, the island continued to stay in Romanian hands. During the
Second World War, Romania, which had joined the Nazi invasion of the Soviet
Union, allowed the Axis powers to establish a radio station on the island.
The Nazis and the Romanians had mined the waters around the island during the
war to stop the Soviet submarines and vessels from getting closer. But in 1944, as
the momentum of the war had clearly shifted in favour of the Soviet Union,
Romanian troops were forced to exit the island. Four years later, as part of a frontier
delimitation protocol signed between Romania and the Soviet Union, the Snake
Island came under the rule of Moscow. It would stay so until Ukraine became an
independent country in 1991, along with several other republics, as the Soviet
Union collapsed.
There was a maritime border dispute between Ukraine and Romania in the waters
around the Snake Island, which was resolved in 2009. At that time, Ukraine had
said the island was home to some 100 people, including military personnel,
scientists, their families and keepers of the lighthouse, which was built in 1842 by
Russia’s Black Sea Fleet and rebuilt several times thereafter. The largely rocky
outcrop has only one village, Bile, which was founded in 2007. Ukraine wanted to
build a settlement on the island, but it, once again, turned out to be the focus of
Russia’s battle to control the Black Sea.
The capture of the island on February 24 allowed Russia to tighten its naval
blockade on Ukraine. But the defence of the island, which was in Ukraine’s artillery
range, became increasingly difficult after Russia lost its flagship Moskva on April
14. Ever since, Ukraine has stepped up attacks not just on the Russian
forces defending the island, but also the supply ships. When the defence became
increasingly costly, Russia finally decided to make a pull-back.
This doesn’t mean that Ukrainian troops can take direct control of the island,
because they might also come under fire from Russian warships. But Ukraine has
clearly pushed the enemy farther away from Odessa, its ‘pearl of the Black Sea’, and
taken a tactical victory, for now.
Capitalism requires a stable medium for holding wealth—stable in the sense that the
prices of commodities in terms of this medium must not be expected to rise “too
much” (that is, at a rate higher than the “carrying cost” of commodities, for then
commodities themselves will become the medium of wealth-holding). Gold has
historically played this role, or some currency convertible to gold at a fixed rate, that
is, some currency “as good as gold”. The pound sterling in the pre-war years had
been one such currency; and the dollar under the post-war Bretton Woods system
has been another.
Even after the convertibility of the dollar into gold was officially ended towards the
end of the Bretton Woods system, the dollar continued to be considered by the
world’s wealth-holders to be “as good as gold” because the dollar prices of goods in
general were expected to be relatively stable. This was because the unit wage cost in
the US (that is, money wage divided by labour productivity) was expected to be
relatively stable, as was the dollar price of the most important current input, oil,
notwithstanding its short-term dollar price fluctuations. The pre-eminence of the
dollar owed so much to the stability of the dollar price of oil that the world may be
said to have been on an “oil standard” of late, reminiscent of the Gold Standard of
the old days.
The United States, however, has upset this entire arrangement underlying the
supremacy of the dollar, because of the sanctions it has imposed, along with the
European Union, on Russia following upon the Ukraine war. In effect, the Western
powers have scored several self-goals, one of which is the weakening of the dollar.
(Europe’s closure of factories because of the absence of Russian natural gas is
another, not to mention Europe’s prospect of freezing in the coming winter months.)
Ironically, the sanctions were imposed with the confidence that the “rouble will be
reduced to rubble” in no time, bringing Russia to its knees; and in the beginning it
Then two things happened: first, to stem the fall of its currency, Russia declared
that it would sell oil in future only against rouble payments; and, second, the
reduction in the volume of Russian oil exports, even though it was small, enabled
speculative activity to push up the dollar price of oil in the world market. Both these
developments contributed to a decline in the value of the dollar vis-à-vis the rouble.
The insistence on rouble payment for oil did so for obvious reasons; and the rise in
the dollar-price of oil did so because the dollar price of a barrel of oil suddenly went
up relative to its rouble price.
So significant was the turnaround that on September 20, a dollar exchanged for 62
roubles, a far smaller figure than when the Ukraine war began. And because of the
rise in the dollar price of oil in the world market, Russia’s export earnings have
increased despite lower export volumes. The higher oil price is also a major
contributor to the acceleration in the inflation rate in the U.S., for controlling which,
given the confines of orthodox economic thinking, a recession is being engineered in
that country and elsewhere, which would involve a significant increase in the
unemployment rate.
This Western miscalculation has been a product of sheer hubris. First, it was
believed that sanctions could be simultaneously imposed on any number of
countries with impunity; at this very time, apart from Russia, several other
countries like Iran and Venezuela (both oil producers), not to mention Cuba, are the
victims of Western sanctions. Second, it was believed that a country as large as
Russia, which accounts for 10 per cent of the world’s oil production and meets a
substantially larger share of Europe’s oil needs, would be as helpless as the smaller
victims of sanctions (and even the smaller countries have by no means been brought
to their knees by these sanctions). And third, it was believed that most countries of
the world would fall in line with the Western diktat. In fact, however, not only China,
but a host of other countries including India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Indonesia
have carried on trade with Russia despite the Western sanctions.
The consequences of this hubristic decision would not have been as serious for the
West if the shortfall in Western oil imports from Russia had been offset through
larger production, and hence exports, from other oil producers. But two of the oil
producers are themselves under sanctions and would hardly be willing to help
Western powers in their fight against Russia by producing more oil; and Saudi
Arabia, despite being a close ally of the West, declined to raise its output, citing
various logistical reasons. As a result, sanctions against Russia have lowered overall
oil output and have boomeranged devastatingly on the West.
If the rouble price of oil is fixed, and can be kept fixed as Russia happens to be a
major oil producer, while the dollar price of oil cannot be kept fixed, and has indeed
risen, as the U.S. cannot overcome the demand-supply mis-match in the world oil
market caused by sanctions, then the dollar effectively loses out to the rouble as a
currency under the present de facto “oil standard”; this is exactly what has been
happening.
Dollar woes: Bilateral arrangements
There is, however, an additional factor as well. The economic agents who hold
dollars as their assets are of two kinds: private and public wealth holders; and
central banks of different countries that hold dollar reserves. While the wealth-
holders’ decision depends on expectations about the price of dollars, vis-à-vis both
The sanctions against Russia over the war in Ukraine are turning out to be
counter productive for the United States and Europe.
Among the self-goals scored by the West are Europe’s closure of factories
because of the absence of Russian natural gas, not to mention Europe’s
prospect of freezing in the coming winter months.
Another self-goal is the weakening of the dollar, whose pre-eminence owed
much to the stability of the dollar price of oil.
The rouble price of oil can be kept fixed, as Russia happens to be a major oil
producer, while the dollar price of oil cannot be kept fixed, and has indeed risen,
as the U.S. cannot overcome the demand-supply mis-match in the world oil
market caused by sanctions.
The dollar is therefore effectively losing out to the rouble as a currency.
One of the consequences of the sanctions against Russia has been the revival of
bilateral payments arrangements between Russia and other countries, and the
dollar does not enter as the medium of transaction into such trade.
The fact that the dollar continues to remain at the top of the hierarchy of
currencies belonging to the rest of the world (leaving aside Russia for the
moment) remains indubitable.
Yet, the dollar continues to remain at the top of the hierarchy of currencies
belonging to much of the world.
If the dollar has declined vis-à-vis the rouble, it has risen vis-à-vis a host of
other currencies because of the outflow of finance from countries of the third
world to the US.