This is more like a hunch. But to me, the most baffling thing about Putin’s war against Ukraine is how ready he was to give up on Germany as one of Russia’s most steadfast advocates in Europe and abroad. Since the early 1970s and the «Ostpolitik», Germany has sought a rapproachment with Russia, often against the explicit wishes of and resistance from its neighbours, friends, and allies. Germany forestalled Ukraine’s accession to NATO (against the wishes of the U.S.); enacted only minor sanctions after Russia’s annexation of Crimea; pushed for a «compromise» (Minsk Agreements I and II) at the expense of Ukraine; agreed with Russia to build Nord Stream I and later, again contra Ukraine, Nord Stream II. The list can be continued.
Critics of Germany often explain this strange German behaviour by its economic greed. True, both Germany and Russia benefited from the cheap natural gas deliveries (as that of coal, oil, uranium, and rare earths). But not only did Germany think that with trade may come rapproachment and democratic change in Russia (or, back then, the Soviet Union). There was, and in a sense still is, a relationship between Germany and Russia that dates back several hundred years, a strange form of familiarity, connectedness, and mutual admiration that lies deeper than mutual fondness of advantageous business deals. Somehow, the Germans and Russians felt connected, in a way that other nations did not. And this connection was not due to similar experiences of defeat or ostracism after WW I from which an intensified collaboration supposedly arose (the typical reading of the Rapallo Treaty). Rather, it seems to me, did this felt connection make collaboration after WW I and WW II even possible – beyond and contrary to the histories of mutual barbaric treatment both nations share (WW II and the expulsion of Germans from Eastern Europe).
I suggest to take into account that beyond all economic and other benefits both nations enjoyed, a main reason for Germany to be a staunch advocate for Russia throughout the Cold War till today was this feeling of familiarity and connectedness, a somewhat strange fondness of Russia which Germany and Germans didn’t feel the same way with other European nations. [1]
Seen that way, a reason why Germany took so long to accept the end of the post-Cold War era and that Russia showed again its imperialist attitude it always had, is that Germany simply couldn’t believe Russia would act that way. In that sense Germany and Germans felt stunned and betrayed by Russia, or rather: a mutual feeling of kinship and familiarity blatantly revoked by Putin. The disappointment in Russia was palpable: Not only had Germany continuously, and against all critique by its neighbours, friends, and allies, opted for close relations with Russia and against its isolation, there is a sense of disappointment that Putin (or Russia in general) never showed any gratitude for Germany’s steadfastness in its support (for which it took major pushbacks from its neighbours, friends, and allies). Russia under Putin, with its war against Ukraine, willingly disavowed one of its main European advocates. It has cut its main bridge to and connection with Europe; and it will be separated from the continent for at least one generation. Whether Germans will again feel this bond is to be seen but an unspoken disappointment lingers in the air and may explain some of the wrath about Russia’s war and its atrocities.
Its consequences for both Germany and Russia shouldn’t be underestimated. But for now, this wanton severance resulted in bafflement, in disappointment, even grief. Combined with a sense of huge incomprehension. Perhaps even Putin wasn’t aware of what the consequences of his decisions would involve. But his continuous insistence to escalate and his refusal to stop anywhere short of «victory» may in part be fed by his desire not to feel the severance he created. And if that is the case, then the prospects for a solution in the Russian war against Ukraine (as of Russia’s return from the cold) are dimmer than already expected.
[1] ∧ One could quip that similar «kinships» exist between Germany, France, and the United Kingdom. In fact, a lot of the past 400 years of Western European history can be neatly catched by saying: In Europe there are three cousins, France, the United Kingdom, and Germany. Neither of them likes the other two but each of them feels offended when he’s not admired by them. With Russia Germany seems to have a fondness that is more emotional and less «rational» and which doesn’t seem to have this elbow-character.
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