Eray Alim. World Affairs. Volume 183, Issue 2, Summer 2020.
Ukraine’s then-President Victor Yanukovych’s refusal to sign an Association Agreement with the European Union (EU) led to the beginning of a serious crisis in Ukraine. After months of unrest in the country, Ukraine’s Parliament removed Yanukovych from office on February 21, 2014. This act was followed by Russia’s military interventions in Crimea and Eastern Ukraine. Through a skillfully executed operation, Russia invaded Crimea, which it then annexed following a controversial referendum. By highlighting security risks that allegedly occurred following an “unconstitutional coup” in Ukraine, Russian leaders stressed the necessity of using force in Crimea (President of Russia 2014a). However, they have consistently denied Russia’s military involvement in the conflict in Eastern Ukraine, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
This article gives an in-depth account of Russia’s actions in Eastern Ukraine by drawing on the concept of “coercive diplomacy.” Alexander George (1997, 2003, 2004), who coined this term, divided the concept into offensive and defensive variants. As George himself focused on the defensive variant and subsequently most authors opted to use coercive diplomacy as a general label without making a distinction between offense and defense, offensive coercion has remained an underexplored concept. It is asserted here that Russia’s strategy in Eastern Ukraine fits the pattern of offensive coercion. This claim is supported by focusing on notions such as status quo (in terms of who overturned it) and international law (in terms of who violated it). George underlines these notions to make an aggressor–defender distinction in international crises.
I show that Russia employed military force against Ukraine in breach of international law with the intention of forcing its disputant to implement a decentralization process and grant separatist-controlled areas in Donbas autonomy. Russia’s aim was to secure an enclave in Eastern Ukraine that it could use as a lever to control Ukraine’s political future. Through the use of force, Russia also violated the agreements it had signed with Ukraine, thus disregarding its commitments to respect Ukraine’s sovereignty, borders, and territorial integrity. The fact that Russia’s actions constitute an offense is evident in its denial of its military activities in Eastern Ukraine. Unlike its Crimea operation, for which Russia sought legitimacy by referring to certain principles of international law (such as self-defense and self-determination), in Eastern Ukraine it adapted an approach based on strategic denial, which arguably amounts to a tacit acknowledgment by Russia of the offensive characteristics of its actions.
I aim to emphasize that making the offense–defense distinction in coercive diplomacy, as proposed by George but overlooked by his followers, is necessary because it enables one to make more astute assessments about coercive strategies. As Russia pursued a strategy of offensive coercion with the aim of turning Eastern Ukraine’s Donbas region into a tool of Russian leverage, it found a highly motivated opponent who strove to deny the coercer the ability to obtain a sphere of influence inside its borders. Without restoring its territorial integrity, Ukraine refused to fulfill Russia’s requests. In doing so, it also employed counter-coercion against Russia. This involved ensuring the continuation of western sanctions against Russia, which, as requested by the West, required showing a political will that demonstrated that Ukraine wanted to resolve the crisis peacefully. As a proof of this will, Ukraine enacted certain legislation regarding separatist-controlled areas. Due to Ukraine’s continuing refusal to settle the conflict in a way that favors its opponent, Russia also found itself having to bear the cost of keeping war-torn Donbas as a functioning region.
In defensive “coercive diplomatic gambits” (Art and Greenhill 2018, 16), mechanisms such as the carrot-and-stick method can serve functional roles in facilitating a peaceful resolution to crises. In cases of offensive coercion, however, as the present work illustrates, there is a high likelihood that the crisis will turn into a zero-sum game, because the coercer’s acts will likely have implications for the survival, territorial integrity, or political sovereignty of the target country. This explains why Russia has been unable to exact compliance from Kiev regarding Eastern Ukraine. Russia’s coercive gambit is made more difficult by the fact that it had already annexed a part of the disputant’s territory (Crimea), thus strengthening Ukraine’s resolve to resist Russia’s demands regarding its Eastern Ukraine regions.
Overall, I aim to show why Russia’s strategy in Eastern Ukraine must be understood in the context of offensive coercion. I also seek to explain the implications of this chosen strategy with reference to the question of why Russia has been unable to bring its coercive campaign to a successful conclusion. The article proceeds as follows. First, I clarify offensive and defensive forms of coercion and show why making a distinction between offense and defense in coercive diplomacy is necessary. Second, I discuss Russia’s coercive diplomatic gambit in Eastern Ukraine through an analysis of how it evolved through different phases. Third, I collate the factors that led to the collapse of the status quo in Russia–Ukraine relations with reference to international law. Finally, I present an argument on the prospects of success for Russia’s coercive diplomacy in Eastern Ukraine.
The Offense-Defense Distinction in Coercive Diplomacy
When George conceptualized coercive diplomacy as a form of forceful persuasion, he drew a distinction between offensive and defensive forms of coercive strategies employed in international crises. For George (2004, 71), Schelling’s (1966) concept of “compellence” encompassed both defensive and offensive variants. He focused on the defensive variant and sought to develop methods that policy makers could use in persuading their adversaries to stop/undo an aggressive action (Jakobsen 2016, 479–80). Employing a carrot-and-stick approach when necessary, coercive diplomacy, as developed by George, serves an alternative strategy, one that enables actors to achieve the desired outcomes without resorting to war.
On George’s (1997, 68) account, the defensive characteristic of coercive diplomacy lies in that it is a practice that is “undertaken in response to an opponent’s encroachment or aggressive action.” In such situations, actors show defensive reflexes and issue threats “reactively to stop or undo undesirable actions” (Jakobsen 2016, 478). Some authors nevertheless find it problematic to associate coercive diplomacy with defensive behavior due to the difficulty of making a clear-cut distinction between offense and defense. According to Art (2003b, 19), for example, there is no objective standpoint to make such a distinction and he argues with reference to George that “what is defensive lies in the eyes of the beholder.” Others take a similar view (Bowen 2017; Freedman 1998; Jakobsen 1998; Pape 1996). Overlooking the offense–defense distinction, they use coercive diplomacy as a general label (without clarifying whether the act is defensive or offensive) or, alternatively, use labels such as “strategic coercion” or “compellence.”
By drawing on George’s conceptualization, an objective standpoint can be found, however, to distinguish between offensive and defensive forms of coercion. Such an attempt is analytically useful because, by identifying the position of the coercer (whether aggressor or defender), one can make better judgments about the characteristics of coercion and thus more accurate judgments concerning the prospect for its success or failure. If the target country decides to resist or employ countercoercion, the intensity of its actions against the coercer will depend on what is “demanded” of it (George and Simons 1994, 281, 291; Lauren, Craig, and George 2007, 202). The target country is expected to show greater resistance to an “aggressive” demand, such as territory or regime change, than to a “modest” demand, such as cooperating with the coercer to end the crisis on terms that are acceptable to both sides. The latter may be facilitated by a carrot-and-stick approach.
Viewed through George’s (1997, 2003, 2004) lens, the purpose of employing defensive coercion is to prevent the status quo from being overturned. Conversely, attempts to overturn the status quo via a fait accompli point to the employment of offensive coercion. The aggressive use of coercion involves attempts “to persuade a victim to give up something of value without putting up resistance” (George 1994, 7). Given these two variants of coercion, the key to distinguishing between them is to determine which side is responsible for the collapse of a “mutually agreed-upon status quo.” The emphasis George places on international law is relevant in this context. In explaining the characteristics of defensive coercion, George (1997, 68) highlights the notion of legitimacy, which, as he states, “norms of international law bestow on the defender.” Supported by international norms, the target country retains a “strategic high ground” (George and Simons 1994, 272) vis-à-vis the coercer. George (2003, 467) also notes that, to ascertain the opponent’s motives, it is imperative for policy makers to examine the disputant’s attitude toward established norms and rules in the international system. By doing so, one can make better judgments about the opponent’s inclinations and intentions (whether offensive or defensive). Hence, attitudes to the principles of international law are a useful indicator in judging an actor’s tendency to adhere to the status quo. Actors’ approaches to international agreements and/or treaties serve a similar function.
Agreements instill predictability in bilateral relations. When they are supplemented by other agreements, they create “a complex, interconnected, and self-reinforcing structure of bilateral and multilateral ties” (Ambrosio 2017, 112). The presence of interlocking agreements creates a situation that can be described as “treaty nestedness,” which “institutionalises cooperation and strengthens bilateral relationships into the future” (Ambrosio 2017, 112). Maintaining the stability in interstate relations provided by signed agreements requires a commitment that both sides will continue to honor them. However, states may withdraw from agreements or act in violation of the commitments stipulated in them. In such situations, interstate relations face a potential crisis. States may produce justifications for violating the obligations arising from international agreements by declaring, for example, that they had signed them under pressure or the terms of the agreement in question are no longer applicable. Despite such justifications, other signatory countries may find the abrogation of an agreement threatening, especially when the agreement concerns security-related issues. Thus, they may decide to employ defensive coercion to ensure the status quo is not overturned unilaterally.
In sum, George’s offense–defense distinction offers a useful perspective through which coercive diplomatic gambits can be analyzed. In making this distinction, one must try to find an objective standpoint, which requires paying less attention to how the protagonist describes its position and actions—because states almost always present themselves as defensive. This is manifest, for example, in their tendency to name their institutions that administer their armed forces as “defense ministries” and “defense departments.” Given this tendency of states, even if an action is conspicuously and overtly offensive and results in the violation of another state’s sovereignty or territorial integrity, states tend to portray their actions as defensive. A better way of determining whether the coercer has engaged in offensive or defensive coercion requires an examination of which side is responsible for the breakdown of a status quo. In this context, international law serves as a useful indicator.
Russia’s Coercive Campaign in Eastern Ukraine
To provide a thorough analysis of Russia’s coercive campaign in Eastern Ukraine, it is necessary to emphasize, first and foremost, that Russia’s activities in this region were a direct continuation of what was undertaken in Crimea. Highlighting some key individuals that played instrumental roles in both Crimea and Eastern Ukraine on behalf of Russia would suffice to underpin this contention.
When Russia commenced its military operation against Ukraine in Crimea, it was the Russian Black Sea Fleet troops that played the leading role in the occupation of the peninsula. However, other pro-Russian elements also contributed to the operation by providing leadership and manpower. Igor Girkin, an ex-GRU/FSB employee, was one of the leaders who took part in the occupation of Crimea. Having admitted that he had been in the peninsula since February 21, 2014, Girkin was one of the militants who forced the members of the Crimean parliament to vote in favor of seceding from Ukraine (Matveeva 2018, 63). Upon seizing the parliament, militants, including Girkin, installed the pro-Russian politician Sergey Aksyonov as the new Prime Minster of Crimea (De Carbonnel 2014). Pro-Russian militants thus played an active role in the creation of a new political order in the peninsula. Alexander Borodai, who served as a “strategic and security advisor” to Aksyonov, was another key figure who came to prominence during this phase (Buncombe 2014). As a self-described expert on ethnic conflicts, Borodai contributed to the “geopolitical project” in Crimea, but as he himself remarked, Crimea was part of a broader project that purportedly required his and Girkin’s participation (The Straits Times 2014).
Having left Crimea for Rostov-on-Don in coordination with GRU agents in early April, Girkin arrived in the eastern Ukrainian town of Slovyansk and set about fostering an insurgency movement there (Wilson 2014, 130). Girkin and his 52 combatants’ arrival in Slovyansk was significant for the separatist insurgency in Eastern Ukraine, as, through manpower and “organizational expertise” (Kuzio 2017, 271), they were able to add momentum to a rebellion that had proved weak and ineffective during the early stages. As he emphasized, if he and his fighters had not arrived in Eastern Ukraine, “everything would have fizzled out” (Dolgov 2014). Expressing with regret the failure to seize the momentum in Kharkiv and Odessa, Girkin underscored the timeliness of taking necessary action in Slovyansk (Dolgov 2014).
In this atmosphere, political actors affiliated with Yanukovych’s Party of Regions organized protests, during which they demanded the protection of the rights of the Russian-speaking population (Kudelia 2017, 219–20). The Russian leadership also made clear that it was ready to protect this population. As Russian President Vladimir Putin stressed while the Crimea operation was underway, “we retain the right to use all available means to protect those people” (Lally and Englund 2014).
Russia’s coercive gambit against Ukraine at this stage fits the pattern of the “try-and-see” approach, as formulated by George (1997, 8). With the emergence of a separatist movement in Eastern Ukraine, Moscow conveyed certain demands to Kiev and expected its counterpart to fulfill them. On March 29, 2014, while presenting Russia’s roadmap regarding instabilities in Eastern Ukraine, Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov (2014) underscored the necessity of “a comprehensive constitutional reform” in Ukraine, as well as “establishing a federation which would grant every region wide powers.” Such reforms, according to Lavrov (2014), were essential given the cultural and civilizational differences within Ukraine, which make it hard to “live in a unitary state.” By questioning the sustainability of a unified Ukrainian state, Russia signaled its intention to push for political decentralization. Putin further clarified Russia’s position on April 17, 2014, by calling for a constitutional referendum in Ukraine to protect the rights of ethnic Russians and the Russian-speaking population (President of Russia 2014a).
During this phase, pro-Russian figures Pavel Gubarev and Vacheslav Ponamorev declared themselves mayors with popular mandates, in Luhansk and Kharkiv, respectively (Kofman et al. 2017, 36). According to Matveeva (2018, 82), individuals like Gubarev came to Russia’s attention after they had initiated a separatist movement against Kiev. Nevertheless, Russia seized upon the separatist momentum and demanded Ukraine address local population’s grievances, as expressed by the self-declared mayors. Russian leaders’ statements served to underpin the “political warfare” (Kofman et al. 2017) that was being waged at this stage. This political gambit failed, however, as pro-Russian mayors were either arrested by the Ukrainian authorities or removed from office by Girkin, as in the case of Ponamorev (Marples 2017, 57).
The failed political warfare attempt was followed by the start of an insurgency, marked by Borodai and Girkin’s proclamations as the leaders of Donetsk and Slovyansk, respectively, in May/June 2014 (Kofman et al. 2017, 38–39). During this phase, Ukraine had also witnessed the creation of two pseudo-autonomous states within its borders known as the Donetsk People’s Republic (DPR) and the Luhansk People’s Republic (LPR). In the midst of these events, Ukraine’s acting President Oleksandr Turchynov announced the beginning of an Anti-Terrorist Operation (ATO) on April 15, 2014. With the start of the ATO, the Ukrainian army began to dispatch “troops, jets, helicopters and armored personnel carriers” near Kramatorsk and Slovyansk (McCarthy and Yuhas 2014). From late April, it began to seize strategic points in Donbas to be ready for a full-on offensive against separatists (Kofman et al. 2017, 42). This phase was marked by the Ukrainian army’s extensive use of its air force and firepower, enabling it to regain key sites such as Donetsk Airport on May 26, 2014 (Freedman 2014/2015, 16). As Ukraine intensified its operations, new fighters who had previously participated in conflicts in Afghanistan, Chechnya, and Georgia began to arrive in Ukraine, providing additional manpower for separatists (Mitrokhin 2015, 232–33). Concurrently, Russia began to funnel heavy weaponry into the conflict, which the newly arrived fighters were skilled at using (Mitrokhin 2015, 233).
During this phase, having acquired air-defense systems from Russia as well as capturing some from Ukrainian army, rebels shot down various jets and helicopters, killing scores of Ukrainian soldiers (BBC News 2014a; Blair 2014). Despite Russia’s increasing support of the separatists, by early July, Ukraine had made significant advances and had captured towns such as Kramatorsk, Artemivsk, Druzhkivka, and Girkin’s stronghold Slovyansk (BBC News 2014b). Russia increased its military involvement in the conflict in the face of the Ukrainian army’s advances. This involved supplying heavier weaponry, such as advanced artillery and Buratino fuel-air multiple launch rocket systems, to the rebels and firing at Ukrainian forces from across the border (Matveeva 2018, 151, 153, 155). Through such deeds, Russia engaged in “demonstrative military action” (Art and Greenhill 2018, 14), signaling to Ukraine that it could escalate the pressure if its demands remained unmet. This phase of the conflict was also marked by the Malaysia Airlines Flight MH17 tragedy, which led to the beginning of significant western sanctions on Russia, due to the latter’s alleged role in the death of 298 civilians.
Despite weapons and manpower provided by Russia, its military actions proved insufficient in stopping Ukraine’s advances. Ukraine remained adamant about restoring its territorial integrity, despite softening its stance on certain occasions, such as declaring ceasefires as happened in June 2014. Yet, as time progressed, Russia’s disinclination to introduce its conventional forces into the conflict zone en masse became evident, thus weakening the coercive effect of its military buildup on its side of the border (Kofman et al. 2017, 66). Aware of Russia’s unwillingness for a broader military involvement, Ukraine, battle-hardened by then, made critical attempts to seize control of the border. In Ilovaisk, for example, Ukraine’s armed forces seized an opportunity to destroy the rebels after having encircled and divided them “into four parts” (Unian Information Agency 2018b). When the rebels’ destruction seemed imminent, Russia introduced its tanks, armored vehicles, and “missile launchers” into the conflict to push back the Ukrainian forces (Kim 2014; Olearchyk and Buckley 2014). After breaking the siege with the help of Russian troops, the rebels killed 366 Ukrainian soldiers— who were leaving the conflict zone through the “green corridor”—and also captured and imprisoned some 300 soldiers (Unian Information Agency 2018a). The Russian intervention played a decisive role in tipping the balance of power in the rebels’ favor, causing Ukraine to suffer heavy losses in terms of both manpower and weaponry (Unian Information Agency 2018b).
It had become clear in Ilovaisk that, even if it required carrying out conventional interventions, Russia would not allow the Ukrainian army to seize strategically important locations. Doing otherwise would have enabled Ukraine to sever the supply lines between Russia and the separatists, thereby impairing the former’s ability to control the dynamics of the conflict. The policy of denying Ukraine strategic gains became clearer with Russia’s direct interventions in Debaltseve, during which it once again saved separatists from defeat, while inflicting heavy casualties on Ukraine (Ukrainian Defense Ministry 2016).
Russia’s conventional interventions marked the third phase of the conflict, characterized by “the limited use of force” (Art and Greenhill 2018, 14). The limited use of force constitutes a critical stage in coercive diplomacy, as the coercer may decide to embark on war if its employment of limited force against the target country fails to deliver the desired result (Art and Greenhill 2018, 14). In the case of Ukraine, having suffered crushing defeats in Ilovaisk and Debaltseve, Kiev felt compelled to sign two separate Minsk agreements in their aftermath, which proves Russia’s success in exacting compliance. The second agreement, the currently in force, was signed on February 12, 2015, and contains 13 provisions. Of these, the 11th provision is noteworthy: Ukraine must implement constitutional reforms regarding decentralization and grant the rebelled-controlled areas special status (Unian Information Agency 2015).
Collapse of the Status Quo in Russia–Ukraine Relations
Despite its military activities in Eastern Ukraine, Russia has never admitted its involvement in the conflict. This rejection is based on the strategy of presenting the conflict in Eastern Ukraine as a “civil war provoked by the authorities in Kiev” (The Moscow Times 2019). After annexing Crimea, Russia provided various explanations to justify its military actions. For example, Russian leaders not only emphasized the need for the protection of Black Sea Fleet troops against right-wing Ukrainian elements but also stressed Crimean people’s right to secede from Ukraine (President of Russia 2014c). Given the presence of Black Sea Fleet troops in Sevastopol and their obvious role in the occupation of Crimea, a denial strategy was not applicable. Hence, Russia sought ways to legitimize its military actions in Crimea by referring to certain principles of international law such as self-defense and self-determination (Allison 2014). However, with regard to Donbas, an approach based on “strategic denial” was espoused (Burke-White 2014, 68).
A case can be made that, because the Russian leadership decided to keep the region inside Ukraine as a potential Russian sphere of influence rather than annexing Donbas, the context was not suitable for the deployment of legal arguments. Russia’s refusal to heed the separatists’ call for Donbas to be incorporated into Russia rendered the principle of self-determination moot (Zakharchenko and Neef 2015). Similarly, Russia could not refer to the principle of self-defense because it never admitted to using force in Eastern Ukraine. However, despite Russian leaders’ denials, separatist leaders on certain occasions did admit to the presence of Russian troops in Eastern Ukraine. For example, former DPR leader Aleksandr Zakharchenko stated, “Current servicemen are also fighting in our ranks, as they came to us to struggle for our freedom instead of going on vacation” (Robinson 2016, 112).
Russia’s military actions against Ukraine constitute a clear violation of some of the principles of international law as outlined in UN Charter and the Helsinki Final Act (Merezhko 2018, 113). As stipulated in UN Charter, “All Members shall refrain in their international relations from the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state” (United Nations, n.d.). In the Helsinki Final Act, this principle is reaffirmed with an added emphasis that, as well as refraining from threat of force or direct use of force, “the participating States” will also refrain from “indirect use of force against another participating State” (Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe 1975, 4). UN resolution 2625, adopted in 1970, has key stipulations relevant to the subject matter. According to this resolution (Butkevych 2018, 205),
Every State has the duty to refrain from the threat or use of force to violate the existing international boundaries of another State or as a means of solving international disputes, including territorial disputes and problems concerning frontiers of States … Every State [also] has the duty to refrain from organizing or encouraging the organization of irregular forces or armed bands including mercenaries, for incursion into the territory of another State.
Russia’s supply of fighters and weapons on a continuous basis to an armed insurgency in Donbas, as well its direct interventions against Ukraine, constitutes a clear violation of these resolutions. Russia’s military actions also constitute a “violation of the basic principle of current international law: the observance of treaties in good faith … which is essential for the operation of (a) bilateral treaties, (b) bilateral contracts, and (c) multilateral treaties” (Butkevych 2018, 201). By using force against Ukraine, Russia overturned the status quo sustained by various bilateral and multilateral agreements. Of the agreements involving Russia and Ukraine, the Budapest Memorandum and the Treaty on Friendship, Cooperation, and Partnership between Russia and Ukraine merit special attention.
The Budapest Memorandum, signed in 1994, is a landmark agreement that establishes the legal framework for Ukraine’s status as a nonnuclear weapon state. As a result of Ukraine’s consent to surrendering the world’s third largest nuclear weapons arsenal, which it had inherited from the Soviet Union, Russia, along with other signatories—the United Kingdom and the United States—pledged to “refrain from the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of Ukraine” and reaffirmed that “none of their weapons will ever be used against Ukraine except in self defence or otherwise in accordance with the Charter of the United Nations” (Conference on Disarmament 1994, 23). As Russia did not appeal to the principle of self-defense in Eastern Ukraine, its military interventions constitute a violation of the Budapest Memorandum.
As Ukraine faced Russia’s military action, first in Crimea and then in Donbas, other signatory states were called upon to provide military support to Ukraine, as the pressure they had applied to Ukraine to eliminate its nuclear warheads back in the early 1990s meant they were, to some extent, responsible for Ukraine’s denuclearization and thus responsible for the elimination of a viable deterrent against Russian aggression (Kuzio 2014). However, the Budapest Memorandum does not oblige signatories to provide military assistance to Ukraine in the case of a national security emergency. As the conflict unfolded in Eastern Ukraine, the United States and the United Kingdom, not legally bound to help Ukraine, provided only limited support in the form of non-lethal aid. Aware of the West’s unwillingness to help Ukraine militarily, Russia sensed its opportunity and expanded its military activities into Eastern Ukraine after Crimea (Giles 2016).
Along with the Budapest Memorandum, the Treaty on Friendship, Cooperation, and Partnership between Russia and Ukraine is another very relevant key agreement here. According to this agreement, Russia and Ukraine shall base their relations on the “principles of mutual respect; sovereign equality; territorial integrity; inviolability of borders; peaceful settlement of disputes; non-use of force or the threat of force” (Sorokowski 1996, 31–32). Given this provision, Russia’s military actions amounted to an abandonment of its commitment to respect Ukraine’s borders, political sovereignty, and territorial integrity. While trying to justify Russia’s actions, Putin referred to Ukrainians’ characterization of Yanukovych’s removal as a “revolution.” This is of particular significance as he went on to say that new states emerge after revolutions and that Russia had not signed any “binding agreements” with a country that describes itself as having undergone a revolution (President of Russia 2014b). As this remark indicates, for the Russian leadership, the anticonstitutional takeover of power in Ukraine created a new de facto situation that absolved Russia of its legal obligations (Allison 2014).
Despite this approach, Russian leaders continued to deny the Russian military’s role in the conflict in Eastern Ukraine, which can be interpreted as a tacit acknowledgment of the illegitimacy of their actions. Russian leaders had pointed to the possibility of using force in Ukraine in the name of protecting Ukraine’s Russian-speaking population (President of Russia 2014b). They sought to justify their would-be actions with the fact that Ukraine’s legitimate president, Yanukovych, had requested military assistance from Russia, while trying to quell internal unrest (President of Russia 2014b). However, the provision of such assistance was never admitted and Russia continued to present the armed conflict in Eastern Ukraine as an internal affair.
Russia’s Coercive Diplomacy in Eastern Ukraine: Prospects for Success
Russia’s coercive gambit proved successful in persuading the Ukrainian government to seek a non-military solution to the crisis, which resulted in the signing of two separate Minsk agreements. However, this arduous and lengthy process imposed significant costs on Russia politically and economically. Moreover, as the key provisions of the Minsk Agreement have not been implemented yet, it is not clear whether Russia will be able to realize its ultimate objectives regarding Eastern Ukraine. Russia’s coercive gambit against Ukraine serves as a case study which lends support to the view that coercive diplomacy is a challenging enterprise (Art 2003a; Freedman and Raghavan 2008; Tarzi 1999). Aware of the difficulties of exacting compliance from the target country through coercion and the costs of conducting a comprehensive coercive campaign (Khramchikhin 2018), Russia itself had decided to scale back its goals in Eastern Ukraine by choosing Donbas as the only area to be secured from Ukraine. This meant abandoning ambitious goals like the Novorossiya project (Toal 2017, 281). The withdrawal from the conflict zone of hardline figures like Girkin, who criticized the Kremlin for not annexing Ukraine’s “Russian lands,” also indicated Russia’s unwillingness to expand its coercive campaign beyond Donbas (Walker 2016).
Ukraine’s motivation was a key factor in this process, as Russia found itself facing an opponent more formidable than expected. Although in the early phase of the crisis Ukraine lacked the combat readiness it needed to deal with an armed insurgency, it soon gathered enough strength to take on the Russian-backed separatists in Eastern Ukraine. Through resolve and determination, Ukraine proved Russian security agencies such as the FSB and the GRU—which had predicted an easy victory—wrong (Galeotti 2019, 18). The main development that fueled Ukraine’s motivation was the loss of Crimea. From Ukraine’s perspective, the pro-Russian mobilization in Eastern Ukraine was a continuation of the separatist trend that had started in Crimea. As the separatist wave reached Eastern Ukraine, Ukraine faced not just the prospect of the loss of Donbas but also that of Kharkiv, Dnipro, Kherson, Zaporizhia, and Odessa. This pointed to the risk of “the disintegration of the country and further territorial losses” (Matveeva 2018, 83–84). Indeed, when interim-President Turchynov announced the start of the ATO, the declared purpose was to prevent the “repetition of the Crimean scenario in Eastern Ukraine” (Kudelia 2017, 223). Compared to its Crimea operation, then, the main reason for Russia encountering a difficult conflict in Eastern Ukraine is Ukraine’s motivation to put up a determined struggle. Nationalist groups also assisted the Ukrainian army in this process by waging a “partisan” war against Russia and its proxies (Kuzio 2017, 245). Forcing Girkin out of Slovyansk, recapturing Mariupol, and denying the separatists northern Luhansk were some of the notable achievements of the Ukrainian army and the militant groups during this process (Bukkvoll 2004, 4, 12; Kuzio 2017, 266). Only with conventional interventions by Russia could the Ukrainian army’s further advances be stopped. Nevertheless, Ukraine still managed to recover 60 percent of the territory that had initially been lost to the separatists (Jaresko 2017, 27).
Although Russia managed to secure Donbas from Ukraine, it found itself in a position of having to shoulder the economic burden of keeping the region as a functioning entity. This involves meeting costs associated with “pensions, social benefits and salaries to local officials and the separatist military forces” (International Crisis Group 2016, 1). Damaged infrastructure in separatist-controlled areas adds another layer of difficulty to Russia’s efforts to create a viable living environment. The destruction of one third of the hospitals and clinics in Donbas is a telling indicator (Buckley et al. 2018). Moreover, with the MH17 incident, Russia’s relations with the West took a notable downturn. Given the close economic ties between Russia and the EU, European economic measures in finance and energy sectors against Russia put a strain on the latter’s economy. Overall, the negative impact of western sanctions on Russian gross domestic product (GDP) is estimated to be between 0.5 and 1 percent (Korsunskaya, Winning, and Osborn 2017).
The EU also took steps that have contributed to Ukraine’s geopolitical estrangement from Russia. Despite the unrest in Ukraine following the ousting of Yanukovych, the EU did not backtrack on its plans to sign an Association Agreement with Ukraine. The agreement, which was finally signed on June 27, 2014, came into effect on September 1, 2017. Although the Association Agreement does not envisage membership per se, Ukraine’s implementation of its provisions has facilitated its westward orientation. Visa-free travel for Ukrainian citizens and Ukraine’s access to the European Single Market are landmark events in this process. Moreover, the Ukrainian government’s implementation of reforms— with the encouragement of the EU—in areas such as education, public administration, and decentralization indicates Ukraine’s transformation along EU lines (European Commission 2018).
Ukraine’s increasing estrangement from Russia is visible in other areas. A symbolically significant moment was the Ukrainian Orthodox Church’s split from the Moscow Patriarchate in January 2019. This move proved a setback in Russia’s attempts to claim cultural and spiritual leadership over Ukraine (The Economist 2019). Ukraine’s former President Petro Poroshenko underscored the importance of this split when he said, “We have cut the last chain that connected us to Moscow and its fantasies about Ukraine as the canonical territory of the Russian Orthodox Church” (The Economist 2019). Moreover, the Ukrainian public holds extremely negative views toward the Russian government (Ragozin 2019). An overwhelming majority of Ukrainians, when polled, said they refused to forgive those who took up arms against Ukraine and mistreated Ukrainian soldiers (Kemp and Lyubashenko 2018, 347).
During the post-Minsk phase, Ukraine further hardened its stance toward Russia by passing a law known as the “reintegration of Donbas,” approved by Poroshenko on February 20, 2018. Making no reference to the Minsk Agreement, the law designates the lands controlled by the DPR and LPR as “occupied territories” and calls Russia an “aggressor state” (Ponomarenko 2018). For Moscow, the passing of this law amounts to “a use-of-force scenario, and political and diplomatic pressure on Russia” (TASS 2018). Emphasizing Ukraine’s right to self-defense under the UN Charter, the law also holds Russia “responsible for the moral and material losses inflicted on Ukraine” (Shandra 2018). This law is significant in that it provides Ukraine with a legal basis to sue Russia in international courts and also vest its army with broader powers given that the conflict in Eastern Ukraine is no longer defined as a terror campaign, but rather as a “full-scale military conflict between Ukraine and Russia” (Haran and Dyczok 2017). Shortly after the passing of the reintegration law, Ukraine announced the end of the ATO and its replacement with Joint Forces Operation. This means that, henceforth, “Ukraine’s military campaign would have a single chain of command for all forces deployed to the war zone” (Ponomarenko 2018).
Ukraine’s hardened resolve demonstrates the difficulties encountered by Russia during its coercive campaign. Since the removal of Yanukovych, Russia’s main demand from Ukraine has been to adopt a decentralized system, which would enable Ukraine’s eastern regions to have relative autonomy. Although the word “autonomy” is not mentioned in the Minsk Agreement, for a peaceful political settlement, Putin has emphasized the necessity of granting self-declared republics “autonomous rights” (President of Russia 2015) through constitutional amendments. Kiev has rejected this demand because it understands that making constitutional changes without restoring security in Donbas would mean ceding control of the region to Russia’s proxies. They would, in turn, become legitimate political actors because they would be guaranteed to win local elections. Given this risk, from Ukraine’s perspective, for elections to be held, conflict-torn Donbas needs to be rehabilitated, which necessitates “logistical, organizational [and] financial reconstruction of normal life” (Zolkina 2019). For Kiev, only after fulfilling the necessary safety conditions and requirements, will it be possible for political parties to undertake electoral activities in the region.
Differences over priorities reveal that the situation in Eastern Ukraine takes on the characteristics of a zero-sum game. As the coercer forces the target state to accept diminished sovereignty over a part of its territory so it can gain a sphere of influence within its borders, there is a high likelihood that, as the case of Ukraine proves, the coercer’s plans will be met with resistance. Ukraine remained firm even when Russia signaled that it could soften its stance, such as by offering the deployment of UN peacekeeping forces along the contact line (Nienaber 2018). Ukraine’s adoption of a rigid stance is an expected outcome, given that it found itself facing a neighboring state’s offensive coercive measures. In cases of offensive coercion, as the coercer’s actions will likely have implications for the sovereignty and territorial integrity of the target country, concepts such as “proportionality” and the “carrot-and-stick approach” lose their functionality.4 Ukraine understands that handing the control of Donbas over to Russian-backed separatists would mean that Russia will retain leverage with which to influence its internal political dynamics. During the pre–Ukraine crisis period, when Russia wanted to apply pressure on Ukraine, it used Crimea for this purpose. When Ukraine, for example, attempted to join western institutions, Russia, to pressurize Ukraine into changing course, encouraged separatism in Crimea (Kuzio 2009, 355–56). Crimea’s annexation rendered the peninsula a de facto Russian territory, indicating a loss of ability for Russia to exert influence on Ukraine from within. But Donbas has the required characteristics to serve a similar function as Crimea. The Russia-leaning electoral base of the region, previously represented by Yanukovych’s Party of Regions, as well as the pro-Russian political actors and oligarchic clans in Donbas provide the necessary means for Russia to exert pressure on Kiev (Motyl 2017; Yekelchyk 2015, 116–17).
Moscow’s plans to transform Donbas into a type of Russian leverage meant Ukraine needed to be prevented from defeating the separatists. Although Russia achieved this goal, as time progressed, Ukraine realized that the stalemate in Donbas had also imposed costs on Russia and therefore refused to settle the conflict in a way that would favor its coercer. The post-Minsk phase witnessed Ukraine’s employment of counter-coercion against Russia, for which western support is crucial. In addition to seeking the West’s political and diplomatic support, Ukraine is also playing its part to ensure that the West maintains its sanctions against Russia. Fulfilling the EU’s demands is especially important in this regard. The EU has pursued a two-pronged strategy during the crisis whereby it has extended its sanctions against Russia every six months since 2014 on the grounds that Russia has failed to withdraw its forces from Ukraine while insisting Ukraine remains committed to the Minsk process (Dragneva and Wolczuk 2015).
To demonstrate its willingness for a political settlement, as outlined in two separate Minsk agreements, Ukraine has taken certain steps such as the passing of two separate laws in September 2014. These laws contain two basic provisions: exempting from punishment those that took part in the unrest in Donetsk and Luhansk, and granting the right of local self-government to rebel-controlled areas for a period of three years (Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Ukraine 2014). Building upon this bill, the Ukrainian Parliament passed another law in October 2017, known as the “Donbas special status law.” The passing of this law is an attempt to prove that Ukraine maintains the political will it had demonstrated in 2014 for a political settlement and that it is committed to the Minsk process. Taking such steps was deemed to be necessary for Ukraine to continue to receive western political support (Stanko and Kamenev 2017). But Ukraine also stressed that the special status law will come into force when armed groups withdraw from Ukrainian territory—a provision also stated in the Minsk Agreement (Unian Information Agency 2017). As Ukraine refuses to implement constitutional reforms without restoring its territorial integrity, the likelihood of Donbas turning into a frozen conflict increases with each day. That scenario means that the region would become a geopolitical burden for Russia.
Conclusion
This article offered an in-depth explanation of Russia’s strategy in Eastern Ukraine, drawing on the concept of coercive diplomacy. I argued that Russia has engaged in offensive coercion against Ukraine by forcing its disputant to enact constitutional changes aimed at decentralization and granting a part of its territory autonomy. While Russia pursued this goal, it violated general principles of international law by resorting to the use of force against another sovereign state. But it also violated agreements it had signed with Ukraine, in which it had made various commitments to respect Ukraine’s sovereignty, borders, and territorial integrity, and had promised not to resort to the threat or the actual use of force against Ukraine except in self-defense. Key notions underlined by George (1997, 2003, 2004) to make a distinction between offense and defense—such as legitimacy, status quo, and international law—reveal that Russia’s actions against Ukraine suggest the use of offensive coercion.
Unlike the goal it pursued in Crimea, the purpose of Russia’s coercive gambit in Eastern Ukraine was not to gain territory but to secure an enclave (Donbas) with which to control Ukraine’s political future. In the pursuit of this objective, Russia took Ukraine’s Russian-speaking population as its referent and demanded Ukraine address these people’s grievances following the ousting of Yanukovych. It then consecutively engaged in political warfare, armed insurgency, and conventional interventions against the Ukrainian army. Russia’s military actions have taken a heavy toll on Ukraine, causing it to lose more than 13,000 people as well as parts of its territory. The fact that Russia has refused to acknowledge its military activities in Eastern Ukraine demonstrates the illegitimacy and offensiveness of its actions. With reference to George’s offense–defense distinction, the offensive characteristic of Russia’s coercive campaign lies in that it retains no strategic or moral high ground to justify its military activities because it lacks the legal right to employ military force against the target country. As Ukraine attempted to put down an armed uprising inside its borders and stop further territorial losses after Crimea, Russia prevented Ukraine from achieving this objective by defeating the Ukrainian forces, as witnessed in Ilovaisk and Debaltseve.
Russia’s offensive coercive gambit, however, encountered serious difficulties. Having lost Crimea already to Russia, Ukraine waged a determined military campaign not to lose more land in Eastern Ukraine. In the face of Ukraine’s determination, Russia minimized its goals in Eastern Ukraine and chose Donbas as the only area to be secured from Ukraine. Facing western sanctions and bearing the costs of keeping the DPR and LPR as functioning entities, Russia’s coercive campaign has proven to be a much more arduous and costly undertaking than its Crimea operation.
I have emphasized that George’s division of coercive diplomacy into offensive and defensive variants offers a useful framework in the analysis of coercion, and Russia’s coercive gambit in Eastern Ukraine is indicative of the necessity of making this distinction. Some authors have remained skeptical of the idea of making offense–defense distinction in the analysis of coercive diplomacy, arguing that what is offensive and defensive are determined by the subjective viewpoints of actors involved in an international crisis. This may not always be the case. It is asserted in this article that actors may be aware that their position is indefensible, even though rhetorically they may produce justificatory statements to defend their position. The 1998 Turkey–Syria crisis is a case in point (for defensive coercion). Having ignored Turkey’s repeated calls to oust the PKK leader Abdullah Öcalan from its territory, Syrian leadership eventually felt compelled to fulfill Turkey’s request in October 1998, knowing that its position was untenable, as it was harboring the leader of a group that perpetrated terror attacks against a neighboring country (see Aksu 2008). Yet, the Assad regime proved much more resilient in the face of Turkey’s coercive gambit from 2011 onward (involving economic sanctions, termination of diplomatic relations, etc.), as it considered political reform requests by Turkey in the heydays of the Arab Spring as tantamount to an attempt at regime change. Expectedly, Turkey’s offensive coercive diplomacy has been a failure in this case, as the Assad government is still in power. With more case studies, more rigorous assessments can be made on the success ratios of offensive and defensive coercive diplomatic gambits.
The likelihood of success in cases of defensive coercion is expected to be higher than those of offensive coercion. If the coercer engages in acts that have implications for the target state’s sovereignty, territorial integrity, constitutional order, or regime, coercion is much more likely to be met with resistance. This analytical context explains why Russia faced formidable difficulties in its coercive campaign in Eastern Ukraine. Russia’s coercive gambit succeeded in bringing Ukraine to the negotiation table to solve the crisis through dialogue. However, Ukraine has consistently refused to take the required political step, which means implementing the key provisions of the Minsk Agreement, without restoring its sovereignty over Donbas. And Russia has continued to insist that constitutional changes be implemented by Ukraine and elections be held in Donbas to bring an end to the conflict. With both sides refusing to budge, the crisis has become a zero-sum game.
This is an expected outcome of offensive coercion. Russia cannot convince Ukraine that its demands are proportional, especially after invading Crimea. Nor can it utilize a carrot-and-stick approach to persuade Ukraine to soften its position. The likelihood of Russia’s coercive diplomatic gambit delivering the desired outcome is uncertain at best. In a bid to demonstrate his willingness to end the conflict in Donbas, Ukraine’s new president, Volodymyr Zelensky, reached an agreement with Russia on troop withdrawal and prisoner exchange. Yet, he also stated that elections can be held in rebel-controlled areas if Ukraine “is given full control of the parts of the Russian border in the Donetsk and Luhansk regions” (Unian Information Agency 2019). As the fulfillment of this condition would amount to a failure of Russia’s coercive campaign, the prospect of ending the stalemate over Donbas remains uncertain.
The argument developed in this article also has implications for policy makers that might engage in acts of offensive coercion. Actors have a higher chance of succeeding, if they prosecute and complete their offensive coercive campaigns swiftly. The Crimea operation is a case in point because Russia seized the peninsula through a swiftly executed fait accompli, enabled by its already-present military units on the ground. However, the coercer is likely to find itself bearing significant costs, if it fails to extract what it seeks from the target country in a short time and its coercive camping drags on. The second scenario would occur when the target country manages to resist the coercer’s demands and even engages in counter-coercion, thus imposing costs on the coercer. This hypothesis sums up Russia’s coercive gambit in Eastern Ukraine.
It is also important to emphasize given Russia’s actions in Eastern Ukraine that balance of motivation is perhaps as important as balance of power in coercive campaigns. It is in this respect that policy makers in coercing states must ponder beforehand how their request would be viewed by the target country, which would consist of various political and societal actors. Because the issue at hand will involve something of value to the target country in cases of offensive coercion, political leadership in the target country may come under significant pressure from societal actors to defend their country’s rights and dignity in the face of coercer’s actions. As the Ukraine case proves, a coercer’s actions may galvanize nationalist feelings and foster internal unity in the target country, thus complicating coercer’s plans to realize its objective. Moreover, as the state prosecuting offensive coercive diplomacy lacks the means to justify its actions on legitimate grounds, there is a very low likelihood that it can employ diplomacy as an effective instrument. Hence, persuasion through dialogue is almost dysfunctional. The coercer is, then, left with force as the only viable option. In case that the threat or the actual use of force fails to deliver the intended result, the coercer must beforehand devise a “cost-saving exit strategy.” Russia had this opportunity, as it had relied mainly on proxy forces and this would have allowed it to reverse course when it had become clear that Donbas would be a chaotic conflict zone. But as a result of misjudgment, Russia further immersed itself in the conflict and ended up incurring significant costs.