It is “not just because the world’s shifting, but because its political class has botched the response with a mix of hubris, warmongering, and strategic myopia.”

By Rafael Pinto BORGES

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Eldar Mamedov is a Brussels-based foreign policy expert with extensive experience in international diplomacy and European politics. A former Latvian diplomat, he served in the Latvian embassies in Washington, D.C., and Madrid, and worked in Latvia’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs. From 2009 to 2024, Mamedov was a senior political adviser in the European Parliament’s Foreign Affairs Committee, focusing on EU relations with Iran, Iraq, and the Arabian Peninsula. He is currently a non-resident fellow at the Quincy Institute for Responsible Statecraft and a member of the Pugwash Council on Science and World Affairs, a Nobel Peace Prize-winning organization dedicated to global disarmament. Mamedov holds degrees from the University of Latvia and the Diplomatic School in Madrid, Spain, and is a prolific commentator on global affairs, contributing to outlets like Responsible Statecraft and The American Conservative.

He spoke with europeanconservative.com’s Rafael Pinto Borges on the Ukraine war, the EU elite’s foreign policy ineptitude, and the peace process led by President Trump.

The Ukraine war has accelerated a multipolar global order, with powers like China and India flexing their influence. Is Europe getting sidelined as a consequence of its leadership’s ineptitude?

The Ukraine war has indeed turbocharged a multipolar global order, with China and India stepping up as power brokers while Europe flounders—partly due to its leaders’ staggering ineptitude. The continent’s influence is shrinking, not just because the world’s shifting, but because its political class, epitomized by figures like the Commission President Ursula von der Leyen and High Representative for foreign policy Kaja Kallas, has botched the response with a mix of hubris, warmongering, and strategic myopia. Europe’s getting sidelined, and it’s got itself to blame.

Start with the big picture: multipolarity’s here.

While the EU leaders tried to approach the war in Ukraine from the “democracies versus autocracies” lens, India has snapped up Russian crude, boosting imports from 2% to 20% of its supply since 2022. India is flexing its economic muscle without concessions to rhetorical democratic pieties. China and India both scoff at sanctions, as do other nations in the BRICS, like Brazil, Nigeria, South Africa, and others. After the latest expansion, BRICS now represent up to 54% of the world population and 42% of the global GDP. That makes Europe’s ‘rules-based order’ sound more like a regional echo chamber than a truly universal concept. The EU’s GDP still dwarfs Russia’s 11-to-1, but its sluggish 1-2% growth and energy woes pale next to Asia’s dynamism. Europe’s not irrelevant yet, but it’s losing the plot.

Now let’s look at the EU leadership. Von der Leyen pushed a sanctions regime that had energy prices spike 40% since 2022, German industry is losing jobs, and inflation is at 5% in 2025—while Russia’s GDP goes along at 3.2%. Her grandstanding in Kyiv, raising hopes of Ukraine’s EU membership, ignores the bloc’s own fiscal limits; the $149 billion in aid since 2022 is mostly loans Kyiv can’t repay, and reconstruction estimates ($524 billion, per the World Bank) dwarf the EU’s annual budget (€185 billion).

Kaja Kallas, ex-Estonian PM and now EU foreign policy chief, is a hawk’s hawk. She is still pushing for a ‘Russian defeat’ that’s as likely as snow in July. Her rhetoric is unhinged: she urges Europe to deter China alongside Russia. She calls Iran a global threat. All at the same time. But the EU still needs U.S. muscle to back this bluster. And yet, Kallas made herself a de facto persona non grata in Washington, with U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio canceling, last minute, a scheduled meeting with her after she tried to lecture Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth on Russia at the Munich security conference. Kallas is dragging Europe into a multi-front confrontation it can’t win.

This ineptitude sidelines Europe because it misreads power. China and India don’t care about Brussels’ moralizing; they’re cutting deals with whomever they can. The EU’s spent billions arming Ukraine, yet Russia is still standing, and Asia’s powers barely notice. Meanwhile, Europe’s industries creak, and according to surveys by the European Council on Foreign Relations and YouGov, pluralities in most European countries favor a negotiated end to the war in Ukraine, not an endless war.

You’ve critiqued the EU’s handling of the Ukraine-Russia conflict as overly ideological. What practical steps could Europe take now to broker a peace deal?

A realist strategy for Europe would be to ditch the soundbites about unconditional support “for as long as it takes” for maximalist goals, and focus instead on power dynamics, incentives to end the war, and workable compromises.

First of all, the EU, or its leading members, like Germany and France, should restart diplomacy with Russia. Drop the sanctimonious rhetoric and signal to Russia that Europe is serious about ending the war. That means engaging Putin directly, not just Zelensky.

What could that entail? First, acknowledge the territorial realities. Crimea is de facto gone, Russia is not going to give it back without a fight Europe can’t win at an acceptable price. Donbas is messier, but a frozen conflict along the current front line could be the least bad option. There is a space to negotiate on the borders. We are talking about de facto arrangements, not de jure recognition of the Russian control.

Next, there must be a serious conversation on what kind of security guarantees can be given to Ukraine. Insisting on a future NATO membership is a non-starter. The EU should join the Trump administration in dropping that item from the agenda. Instead, Ukraine’s neutral status should be codified, not just verbal. A multinational, UN-mandated force, excluding soldiers from the NATO countries and Russia, should be deployed on a demilitarized zone along the border.

Then offer economic incentives to both sides to end the war. Offer Russia reintegration to European markets, renewed gas trade, pathway to gradual, conditional lifting of sanctions—all contingent on ending the war. For Ukraine, double down on reconstruction funds as an incentive to sign off on a deal.

Post-war reconstruction in Ukraine could cost hundreds of billions. Can Europe, given its difficult economic and fiscal position, really foot the bill? Or does Ukraine’s accession to the EU strike you as being as idealistic as Kyiv joining NATO?

Post-war reconstruction in Ukraine is indeed a monumental challenge. As of late 2024, the World Bank pegged the figure at $524 billion over the next decade

Europe’s economic situation is far from rosy. The EU’s collective GDP amply dwarfs Russia’s, but growth has been sluggish, averaging around 1-2% annually in recent years.

Fiscal constraints are tight, too. Many EU countries, especially in NATO, are already juggling increased defense spending with domestic priorities like healthcare and infrastructure. The idea of adding Ukraine’s reconstruction to this mix—potentially $50 billion a year if spread over a decade—looks daunting when EU budgets are already stretched. Ukraine’s EU accession could, in theory, ease the burden if framed in terms of Ukraine as an economic asset for the future —think military production or agriculture—while EU funds and market access drive its growth. But here’s the rub: accession isn’t quick. The process could take a decade or more. And integrating a war-torn country of 40 million, with a GDP per capita far below even the poorest EU states, would demand overhauling the EU’s budget, agricultural subsidies, and decision-making structures. And at the end of the day, some countries, like France, have constitutionally mandated referendums on every new EU accession. Squaring the circle is not impossible, but it’s a heavy lift for a union already wrestling with internal divisions.

Compare that to NATO membership, which Ukraine sees as its security lifeline but remains a geopolitical lightning rod. Russia’s red line on NATO expansion partly fueled this war, and even allies like the U.S. and Germany have balked at fast-tracking Kyiv, citing escalation risks. EU accession, while less provocative to Moscow, carries its own idealism—promising stability and prosperity to a nation still bleeding from conflict, without a clear endgame for funding or security.

The Ukraine conflict has exposed Europe’s energy vulnerabilities and reliance on non-Western suppliers. Do you think President Macron’s demands for ‘European strategic autonomy’ can be taken seriously?

The Ukraine conflict has indeed laid bare Europe’s energy vulnerabilities, revealing just how dependent the continent remains on external suppliers—many of whom don’t exactly align with the EU’s lofty democratic ideals. Russia’s invasion in 2022 forced a reckoning: Europe scrambled to cut its reliance on Russian gas, which once accounted for over 40% of its imports, down to less than 15% by 2023. But in its desperation to plug the gap, the EU has turned to some dubious alternatives, and Azerbaijan stands out as a particularly ironic and troubling case.

Macron’s call for “European strategic autonomy”—the idea that the EU should control its own destiny in defense, energy, and beyond—sounds noble, but the bloc’s energy moves make it look more like a hollow slogan than a serious plan. Let’s cut through the spin: Azerbaijan’s gas reserves are a drop in the bucket compared to Europe’s needs. Worse, Azerbaijan doesn’t have the spare capacity to meet its own domestic demand, let alone Europe’s. It’s been quietly importing gas from Russia and Turkmenistan to keep up appearances, meaning the EU’s “diversification” might just be a backdoor for relabeled Russian fossil fuels.

The math doesn’t add up, and the strategy reeks of panic rather than autonomy. Now, enter EU Energy Commissioner Dan Jørgensen, who’s been cozying up to Azerbaijan’s autocrat, Ilham Aliyev, like a supplicant. This is the same Aliyev who’s ruled with an iron fist since 2003, rigging elections, jailing journalists, and crushing dissent.

The hypocrisy gets uglier when you factor in Nagorno-Karabakh. In 2023, Azerbaijan’s lightning offensive expelled over 100,000 Christian Armenians from the region, a textbook case of ethnic cleansing. Swapping Putin’s authoritarian gas for Aliyev’s doesn’t make Europe independent—it just shows its moral bankruptcy.

How do you view Britain’s and France’s proposed ‘coalition of the willing’ for a peace keeping force in Ukraine? Are such ambitions at all feasible given the state of Europe’s armed forces?

Smaller nations, like Netherlands, Sweden, Denmark, can play a part in that proposed “coalition of the willing”, but clearly Britain and France would have to do the heavy lifting.

UK premier Keir Starmer himself has said U.S. backing is “vital,” yet Trump’s administration has shown zero appetite for it. Putin has repeatedly called NATO troops in Ukraine a red line, promising retaliation—drones, missiles, or worse. Do Britain and France have the stomach for that escalation? The ambition would be feasible only if U.S. air support somehow miraculously materializes, and Russia blinks. There is nothing to suggest that any of these is realistic. Britain and France want to lead, but their coalition looks more willing than able.

Some in the West have argued for the war’s continuation with the argument that it weakens Russia, while others see it consolidating a Sino-Russian axis and cementing a anti-Western, pan-Eurasian coalition. This echoes Zbigniew Brezinski’s fears in his The Grand Chessboard. Which view do you lean toward, and what does this mean for Europe’s security architecture in the coming decades?

Superficially, the ‘war weakens Russia’ camp has a point. The stats are disputable but it seems very likely that Moscow’s casualties in the war land in the tens of thousands. $300 billion in reserves are frozen. Its GDP is 5% smaller than it would’ve been, per Russia’s own estimates, and tech sanctions have gutted its aviation and chip access.

But the counterview—a Sino-Russian consolidation—sounds more compelling.  Russia is not collapsing; it’s adapting. Sanctions pushed Moscow into Beijing’s arms—trade hit $240 billion in 2024, up 30% pre-war. Moreover, North Korea’s 10,000 troops in Ukraine signal a wider constellation. Russia also signed an ambitious strategic partnership agreement with Iran, whom the West has unwisely alienated by failing to respect the 2015 nuclear agreement. This isn’t just Sino-Russian; it’s a Eurasian coalition flexing, though not an axis. I think Brzezinski would be horrified to see this.

The biggest risk? Clinging to liberal delusions—sanctions as an all-purpose cure, NATO as savior —while Eurasia consolidates.

If peace negotiations succeed, how do you envision Ukraine’s role in the global order—NATO member, neutral buffer state, or something else—and what would that imply for Europe’s eastern flank?

The strongest case—pragmatic and stabilizing—is Ukraine as a neutral state, modeled on Cold War Finland or present-day Austria. This would reshape Europe’s eastern flank into a tense but manageable frontier, balancing power without constant escalation.

Neutrality doesn’t mean weakness—it’s a calculated play to freeze the conflict and secure Ukraine’s sovereignty without poking the Russian bear into a corner.

In that scenario, Russia gets a buffer—no NATO missiles 500 km from Moscow—easing its perceived security concerns (a core driver since 1991). The West gets a stable Ukraine, not a bleeding wound. Ukraine gets survival—18% of its land is lost, but 82% stays free, with time to rebuild. Finland and Austria prove neutrality isn’t surrender.

In Istanbul, back in 2022, Moscow seemed bent on securing linguistic concessions as well as concessions regarding Ukraine’s demilitarisation. Before the invasion, in 2021, Moscow also demanded that NATO no longer deploye forces in Eastern Europe. And, earlier, the Russians had spoken of Ukraine’s ‘federalisation.’ What, in your view, is now Russia’s endgame in Ukraine?

Russia’s endgame in Ukraine by April 2025 has crystallized around three core demands—control over Donbas and Crimea, Ukraine’s neutrality (no NATO), and limits on its armed forces—honed from earlier bids like those in Istanbul 2022 and pre-invasion 2021. Moscow’s initial maximalism—demilitarization, federalization, NATO’s retreat from Eastern Europe—has narrowed under war’s grind and economic strain (5% GDP hit from sanctions). These three goals reflect Putin’s bottom line: secure strategic depth, neutralize threats, and lock in gains, all while projecting strength domestically and regionally.

Additionally, Moscow demands that parties that advocate for an official status for the Russian language and minority rights for the ethnic Russians in Ukraine are allowed to run in elections in Ukraine, but that currently is not part of Putin’s core three demands.

NATO’s Eastern rollback is a pipe dream. If Putin is successful on the battleground in Ukraine, he should be careful not to overplay his hand which would jeopardize his gains and risk domestic challenge to his rule. Most Russians seem to support the war in Ukraine, but only as long as it is winnable. They are unlikely to welcome a military overreach that would risk a direct war with NATO.

You’ve written about the limits of Western sanctions on Russia. Are sanctions a policy tool of the past in a world that now seems decidedly multipolar in the economic sphere as well? 

In a multipolar economic world, sanctions look increasingly like a rusty tool—still sharp enough to wound, but nowhere near the decisive weapon they once were against smaller, less connected states. The shift is stark. Back in the 1990s, when the U.S. dollar reigned supreme and globalization ran on Western terms, sanctions could choke a target like Iraq or Yugoslavia—isolated, dependent, and outgunned economically. Russia’s different. It developed tools to bypass sanctions, such as trading with China in yuan, leaning on BRICS partners, and building parallel payment networks to dodge SWIFT. Even Turkey, a NATO member, eagerly trades with Russia.

For sure, sanctions still bite. But the knockout blow never landed. Why? Because multipolarity means alternatives.

How should Europe—and the broader West—deal with Moscow? Continued rivalry or rapprochement?

Rapprochement offers a way to de-escalate, stabilize, and redirect resources—without deluding anyone about Putin’s nature or Russia’s ambitions. The case for managed competition starts with reality: Russia’s not going anywhere. It’s a nuclear power with 5,500 warheads, a permanent UN Security Council seat, and spoiler power over Europe’s energy and security.

Diplomacy, not enmity, could carve out a modus vivendi. The moral case of making a deal with Putin stings. But pragmatism is not about moral purity—see Richard Nixon’s détente’ with Mao while China starved millions, and subsequent de-escalation with Brezhnev’s Soviet Union too. Russia will remain a rival—meddling in elections, probing NATO’s edges. But diplomacy turns the dial from hot conflict to cold coexistence. Rivalry’s exhausted its returns; managed competition is the smarter play.

Looking at the broader fallout, how do you see the Ukraine conflict reshaping alliances in the Middle East and Asia, and what’s the biggest risk for Europe if it fails to adapt to this new geopolitical reality?

The Ukraine conflict is a geopolitical earthquake, shaking alliances in the Middle East and Asia while exposing Europe’s vulnerabilities. States act on self-interest, not sentiment, and this war’s fallout is redrawing the map of power alignments—driven by security, hedging and opportunism. Europe’s failure to adapt risks sidelining it in a world where influence hinges on hard power and economic leverage, not moral lectures.

China’s the big winner, locking Russia into a junior partner role. India triangulates seeking deals with both Moscow and the West based on its national security and economic interests, not ideology. Even Japan and South Korea are hedging their bets, seeking co-existence, not conflict.

Europe should do exactly the same, playing on its strength, not chasing the chimera of becoming a major military power. Europe can’t outmuscle China or outspend the U.S.; its play should be a rebirth of effective, pragmatic diplomacy and economic resilience. Fail that, and the realist world moves on—Europe becomes a museum of past glories, not a player in the new game.

Original article: European Conservative