A key question thrown up by President Trump’s recent dealings with Ukraine is “where do we go from here for European security?” The American abandonment of Ukraine should not be surprising. This war had to be brought to a close—although Trump’s actions have been undiplomatic and bordering on bizarre. Are there ideas from the late 1980s and early 90s that can be considered today? 

Lost opportunity 

Unlike the lessons applied in 1945, where a defeated Germany (together with Japan) was brought into the fold and its economy regenerated, American triumphalism after 1991 perpetuated the division of Europe and an exclusion of Russia from any meaningful post-Cold War pan-European security frameworks. 

As the Cold War was ending, Soviet leader Gorbachev and others in the top echelons of Moscow favoured the implementation of what was called by the CSCE (now the OSCE, the Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe) a “Common European Home” (CEH). Emerging from the Helsinki process, the CEH would incorporate all European states, including Eastern Europe and Russia, as well as the US and Canada, in a joint framework of mutual security assurances, confidence building mechanisms, ongoing arms control measures, protection of minorities and the rule of law. Gorbachev noted that the CEH would be “peaceful and democratic, a Europe that maintains all its diversity and common humanistic ideas, a prosperous Europe … it is in such a Europe that we visualise our own future” (Gorbachev 1989). 

While no detailed blueprint existed, the essentials were already there as a result of the deepening Helsinki process. But the US was not interested in a CEH, even with American membership. Despite this, the idea was pursued by Gorbachev, and with even more seriousness after he agreed to German unification in 1990, where the new Germany would be a part of NATO, but that alliance would not expand further eastwards. Recently released archival investigations confirm that these promises were indeed made (see for instance works by Sarotte and Schifrinson), where Russia “was led to believe” that no expansion would occur. From Moscow’s perspective, NATO was a military alliance aimed squarely at Russia; its further expansion would inevitably be seen as a threat. Yet, for America and to a lesser extent the United Kingdom, NATO was never going to be downgraded in favour of the more inclusive Common European Home.  

Perceiving this, Moscow itself made attempts to join the alliance. Gorbachev had asked for Russian membership of NATO in 1990, and similar requests were made by his successor Boris Yeltsin and even, later, by Vladimir Putin. Secretary of State James Baker considered this possibility, as did British Prime Minister John Major. But ultimately, neoconservative influence in Washington rejected such notions: a collective defence arrangement would always need an external enemy. A Common European Home implied something more akin to a common, collaborative, or collective security model, a more inclusive framework where internal values and mutual expectations would keep all members in check as part of a shared partnership. In essence, it was a natural follow-on from the success of the Helsinki process in the late 1980s.  

But it was never going to be established as the main driver of European security. NATO was not only retained but expanded five times between 1990 and 2022. Even Russia’s inclusion in NATO’s Partnership for Peace and the Founding Act was seen as little more than a sop to a defeated adversary which had little choice in the matter. 

Realpolitik, messy borders and ethnic groups   

In addition to the broken promises about NATO expansion and the rejection of Gorbachev’s hopes for a Common European Home, the problem of post-Soviet borders and their effect on ethnic minorities have also contributed to the crisis in Ukraine. For Russia, the prospect of Ukraine and Georgia joining NATO would cross the “reddest of red lines.” Especially after the speech made by the US at NATO’s Bucharest summit in 2008, it is hardly surprising that Moscow’s views towards the West hardened. And Kiev’s treatment of ethnic Russians in Eastern Ukraine–with military strikes growing substantially in the period just prior to Putin’s 2022 invasion—reaffirmed for Putin that NATO could not be trusted.  

Having been at NATO HQ in 1990, I can attest to the prevailing sentiment at the time about prospects for peace with Moscow on the basis of NATO non-expansion. I have also in the past been mildly pro-NATO, and certainly no fan of President Putin. But vested interests in the US, and especially the rise of neocons determined to forge a muscular American hegemony by weakening any potential global competitors (viz Russia and China) have led me, reluctantly, to accept the view that the tragedy in Ukraine can be placed in part at the foot of the US. Ukraine could never have won this war: the US Secretary of State has recently admitted that Washington had been ‘dishonest’ in suggesting to Kiev that it could. 

Current options? 

Where does this leave us today? I do not believe that Putin is interested in (or capable of) expanding more broadly into Europe. But he will steadfastly refuse to accept Ukraine as a member of NATO. And if Putin seek control of the whole of Ukraine, it is nevertheless far from evident that he intends to reach beyond that and into other European states. (although poor treatment of ethnic Russians in Russia’s “near abroad” could threaten stability in places like Estonia and Lithuania.)  

It is quite possible to denounce Putin’s invasion and at the same time point to avoidable provocations made by Washington. It is quite possible to lament the brutality of Russia’s war and its risk of nuclear confrontation and also suggest that the West lost an opportunity to bring Russia into the fold when the Cold War ended. In 1991, many Russians were keen to look westwards. Today, they have a more authoritarian, nationalist, and suspicious view.  

It is hard to know whether a new, truly, pan-European security framework can be created now. This will depend on what replaces NATO, how Europe’s leaders view Russia, and how Russia views the rest of Europe. Realistically, it might be far too late to try again for such a collaborative approach.  

Conclusion 

The tragedy of Ukraine is a consequence of poor management of the complexities of European politics after 1991 and a sustained indifference to the security concerns of Russia. A Common European Home might have transformed the dynamics of European security for the better in a way that NATO expansion could never do. A Russia within West European influence, supported economically instead of gutted financially, was quite feasible, but the idea was not going to fly with those like Paul Wolfowitz and his ilk who revealed in the early ‘90s that Washington would never accommodate such notions. 

Is it all as simple as that? A short article like this cannot provide greater historical detail and nuanced argumentation. And proving counterfactuals is impossible. But now that America has abandoned Ukraine, and European leaders are struggling to formulate their policies, surely we can say that a different approach to Russia and its incorporation into a Common European Home deserved more consideration than the hawks in Washington and London gave it at the time. 

Marianne Hanson is Honorary Associate Professor of International Relations at the University of Queensland. Her doctoral studies at the University of Oxford focused on European security at the end of the Cold War.

This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.