A template for Russia’s war in Ukraine: The ‘Winter War’

History rarely repeats itself but it does offer instructive parallels that can be worth reflecting upon while endeavoring to decipher today’s momentous challenges. One such challenge is attempting to predict the behavior of Russia, which Winston Churchill memorably described as “a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.” 

In pondering Russia’s oft-remarked insecurity — some would call it paranoia — it is useful to recall that in the course of its history, Russia has been attacked and/or occupied by Mongols, Turks, Poles, Prussians, Swedes, French, Japanese, Germans and, during the Russian Civil War, Britain and the United States sent troops into combat against the Red Army.

Within the past century, Russia itself attacked three countries that had been longtime elements of the old tsarist empire, which collapsed in 1917: Finland in 1939, Georgia in 2008, and Ukraine in 2014 and 2022. In looking for clues about how the current Russo-Ukrainian war might develop, the events of the Russo-Finnish war of 1939-1940, or Winter War, appear most relevant, because in context they bear the greatest resemblance to the world situation today. 

Then, as now, the war involved not just Russia and the smaller country it invaded but also the leading Western powers of the day. Then, as now, Russia was closely allied to a menacing superpower that shared its ambition to overthrow a world order they believed had grievously wronged their country in the past — Nazi Germany in 1939 and Communist China today. Then, as now, a world organization created after a destructive world war for the purpose of guaranteeing peace had failed to do so: the League of Nations in 1939 and the United Nations today. Then, as now, Russia’s intended victim was expected to be crushed in mere days but instead astounded the world by inflicting humiliating defeats on its giant adversary, inspiring Western nations to send money, munitions and volunteers to aid the plucky defenders.

However, Western enthusiasm for deeper involvement in Finland as a means of weakening Russia began to wane as Western leaders belatedly realized the conflict was distracting them from the larger threat of Adolf Hitler’s ambition to achieve global hegemony. Accordingly, when Joseph Stalin ordered a national mobilization to remedy Russia’s military setbacks — much as Vladimir Putin would do 80 years later — the Western powers began to pressure Finland to seek a negotiated end to the war that would preserve the Finns’ national independence. To those who denounced this altered course as a betrayal of Finland, Western governments made clear that, in a world of growing disorder, their priority had to be the defense of their own people’s interests.

Soon thereafter, in March 1940, the war between Russia and Finland ended and, although terms of the peace treaty compelled the Finns to sacrifice 9 percent of their national territory, they have remained a free sovereign nation ever since.

Allowing that even the most compelling historical parallels are imprecise, why would it be impossible or unreasonable to explore a similar path today? Former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, arguably the most august diplomat of our age, has advocated for such an approach regarding Ukraine and found support for his position from French President Emmanuel Macron. 

Both were promptly excoriated by American (and other) officials for “breach of NATO solidarity” — but it is fair to ask, at what point does “solidarity” on behalf of a dangerously unwise policy morph into a nuclear suicide pact, particularly when the people of the world hear the American president casually discussing the possibility of nuclear Armageddon at a political fundraiser? Undeterred by his earlier chastisement, Macron formally announced that in the event of the use of tactical nuclear weapons in Ukraine, France would not deploy its own nuclear arsenal — clearly a further expression of his alarm at the fecklessness of America’s leadership.

Though their complete dependence on U.S. military power has precluded public criticism of President Biden’s vague and open-ended goals in Ukraine, NATO leaders are hardly reassured on hearing American leaders of both political parties resort to trite phrases such as “in it to win it” or “as long as it takes” when discussing grave and complex matters that will determine the future of Europe for years to come.  

Given the erratic track record of U.S. administrations in recent years, the unease of other NATO members is understandable, as is their frustration in trying to explain these things to their own troubled and restive peoples.

William Moloney is a Senior Fellow in Conservative Thought at Colorado Christian University’s Centennial Institute who studied at Oxford and the University of London and received his doctorate from Harvard University. He is a former Colorado Commissioner of Education.