As Russia masses troops along its border with Ukraine, fears of an invasion are mounting. The United States has warned that Russia would pay a heavy price, exacted first and foremost through economic sanctions. But President Joe Biden has also declared that he would not send military personnel to defend Ukraine. It is the right approach.
On one hand, the threat of economic sanctions – in particular, exclusion of Russia from the SWIFT international payments system and cancellation of the Nord Stream 2 gas pipeline to Germany – might be enough to deter Russian President Vladimir Putin. On the other hand, any threat that the US and its allies would intervene with troops would not be believable – inviting Putin to call the West’s bluff.
But if Americans and Europeans are unprepared to send troops to Ukraine, why did Western leaders in 2008 promise eventual NATO membership to Ukraine, as well as to Georgia? After all, Article 5 of the North Atlantic Treaty declares that an armed attack against one NATO ally is effectively an attack against all of them. And yet nobody was prepared to come to Georgia’s defense when Russia invaded in 2008, or to Ukraine’s defense when Russia annexed Crimea in 2014. Nor has the West done anything to stop Russia from occupying Ukraine’s eastern Donbas region. Against this background, talk about Ukraine joining NATO has merely provoked Putin, while undermining the West’s credibility.1
This reflects a broader problem with US foreign policy since the end of World War II: a poor match between the signals it sends and what it is subsequently able to carry out.
For starters, the US has often overstated its resolve in military engagements. For example, in Vietnam and Afghanistan, it failed to achieve its goals and eventually decided to cut its losses. The speedy collapse of the US-backed governments in Saigon and Kabul showed just how little progress had been made – and dealt heavy blows to America’s global reputation.
America’s intervention in Lebanon was blighted by a similar mistake. A multinational force, including hundreds of US soldiers, arrived in August 1982, in order to oversee the Palestine Liberation Organization’s withdrawal from the country. By early September, that mission was complete, and US troops left.
But a massacre of Palestinian refugees by a Christian militia brought Western troops back to Lebanon, where they remained with a far hazier mission. In October 1983, Lebanese terrorists drove a truck full of explosives into the US Marine barracks in Beirut, killing 241 American military personnel. (Meanwhile, a separate attack killed 58 French paratroopers.) The US and its allies withdrew their troops in a matter of months.
Some have argued that the withdrawal was a mistake in that it sent a message to America’s enemies, such as Osama bin Laden, that the US was a “paper tiger.” This is the wrong lesson. In fact, US President Ronald Reagan should have quietly disengaged once the original mission was complete.
The lesson is clear: the US should ensure that any declaration of a willingness to use military force corresponds with what a leader can actually deliver. And this means more than not overstating one’s commitment. Understating it is also a strategic blunder. After all, a credible threat from a military power like the US can act as a powerful deterrent. Project Syndicate 2021
