West’s Ukraine policy of incrementalism is appeasement-light — and it’s failing

Andrew Chakhoyan is an academic director at the University of Amsterdam. He previously served in the U.S. government and oversaw regional government affairs at the World Economic Forum (covering Ukraine and Russia).
Was the Kursk incursion a reckless gamble or a masterstroke?
As Ukraine celebrates its independence day this weekend, attempting to answer this is as futile as the question is misguided. What is clear is that for the first time in over a decade, someone other than Moscow is now setting the agenda. And it speaks volumes about Ukraine’s audacity, valor and relentless pursuit of freedom, as well as the free world’s indecision and collective refusal to recognize the true danger Russia poses — not just to Ukraine.
A few months ago, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy voiced a stark truth: “Our partners fear that Russia will lose this war.” Of course, the collective West isn’t to blame for Russia starting wars, but we must recognize that it will take all of us to end it — and that shifting this shared responsibility onto Ukraine is morally indefensible, as well as strategically unsound.
Near a century ago, appeasement failed with disastrous consequences. Today, it’s the policy of incrementalism — call it appeasement-light — that’s failing. And both the U.S. and Europe must acknowledge that our fear of provoking Moscow is what ends up reliably provoking Moscow.
This cycle must end.
At the end of the Cold War, the free world exhaled. Communism defeated, problem solved. However, the threat from Moscow lay in its colonial ambitions as a Frankenstein state, not its ideology.
The saltwater fallacy that colonies exist only overseas obscures the obvious: Russia relies on perpetual expansion. Its invasions of neighboring states aren’t anomalies but historical patterns. Moscow’s legitimacy and the stability of its fragile empire are rooted in an unending cycle of conquest and domination that hinges on violence, the appropriation of other nations’ histories and the subjugation of people.
We misconceive and justify Russia at our own peril. And as bizarre as it sounds, we’ve done so eagerly, despite overwhelming evidence, despite the clear and present danger it poses not just to Ukraine but to the entire world and, paradoxically, its own people.
Our dogged Putinversteher — giving Moscow the benefit of the doubt despite its obvious belligerence — and attempts to reset relations have only emboldened the Kremlin. Lithuanian Foreign Minister Gabrielius Landsbergis said it best: “Who cares what Putin would do if Russia loses? We should worry more about what he would do if Russia wins.”
We saw Russia’s brutal campaign in Chechnya in the 1990’s, and yet conveniently dismissed it as an “internal matter.” When Russia invaded Georgia in 2008, we failed to mount an adequate response. Crimea’s annexation in 2014 saw us falter once again as Moscow redrew international borders by force. And when Russian “volunteers” infiltrated my native Donbas, and pseudo-republics emerged out of nowhere, we turned a blind eye too. We knew Moscow was responsible for the MH17 tragedy, but we again failed to act decisively.
Now, Russia is committing the crime of aggression, and Ukraine is defending freedom. All the while, the global community is vacillating, hesitating and, in many instances, betraying. How can we not see the cruelty of our actions — helping Ukraine hold the line, but not enough to expel its aggressor? We cannot wish this problem away: Moscow will not stop until we stop it. And looking for a middle ground is delusional.
History has shown that when met with weakness and indecision, Russia escalates; but when met with strength and resolve, it backs off. In 1989, as a nuclear-armed global superpower — and one of only two in the world at the time — the Soviet Union lost a war in Afghanistan and went home. Its equally violent descendant, however, has ostensibly won every war it started, and the results are self-evident.
After Ukraine took control of dozens of towns in the Kursk region, however, Russian officials toned down the nuclear saber-rattling. Putin didn’t announce mobilization, nor did he declare war. Rather, he referred to Russia’s efforts as an “anti-terror” operation to avoid triggering military doctrine. Conceivably, Russia could have called on the Shanghai Cooperation Organization to activate its version of “Article 5” — but it didn’t. Instead, the strongman in the Kremlin appears paralyzed. And after years of Western self-deterrence, which emboldened Moscow, we’re finally seeing what effective de-escalation looks like.
If Moscow raises the stakes in response to the West’s inaction once more, we’ll have no one to blame but ourselves. The free world needs to live up to its name, commit to a decisive Ukrainian victory and deliver lasting peace to Europe — a continent whose success is rooted in its postwar ethos.