The term ‘collective West’, widely used in Russia, is rarely employed in the West itself, except perhaps when discussing Russian political thinking. What’s commonly heard, however, is the long-running debate over what the West actually is and that discussion has continued in philosophy and politics since at least the 18th century.
The concept has never had a fixed definition, even among those who are supposedly part of it so instead, the West has usually been defined in opposition to something else. At different times, that “other” has been Byzantium and Eastern Orthodoxy, the Ottoman Empire and the Islamic world, or even Germany, which was once regarded by some as alien to the European spirit.
There was also a longstanding debate over the place of the New World, given North America was, geographically and culturally, the West par excellence, yet it simultaneously presented itself as both the heir to European civilization and its challenger. Whether the United States belonged to the same historical and ideological community as Europe remained an open question for generations and for much of this period, conflict within what later became known as the West was intense and almost continuous.
The political West, as we understand it today, is therefore a relatively recent creation, which emerged only after the Second World War.
The defeat and division of Germany removed the principal source of conflict within Europe that had dominated the previous three centuries when Germany itself was confined within strict political limits. At the same time, Western Europe’s dramatic decline following two catastrophic world wars enabled the United States to assume leadership of the Atlantic community and finally, the Soviet Union, at the height of its military and political power, provided a common external threat around which the alliance could unite, and this was how the ‘collective West’ came into being.
During the Cold War it was defined by opposition to Moscow and after the Soviet collapse, it transformed itself into the self-appointed manager of the international order, assuming that its dominance would continue indefinitely, but the erosion of the liberal world order, which began during the first decade of this century and accelerated dramatically by the mid-2020s, has challenged that assumption. Western Europe, as the more vulnerable half of the Atlantic partnership, has been forced to redefine both its identity and its purpose.
The necessary Russian threat
The reasons behind the weakening of the post-Cold War West are well known, and include the disappearance of bipolarity, the rise of new centers of power, America’s strategic shift towards the Indo-Pacific, Washington’s growing focus on competition with China, while the fragmentation produced by the end of the liberal globalization era have all undermined the foundations of the Atlantic order.
An alliance designed for the realities of the mid-20th century no longer corresponds to those of the 21st and previous American presidents hinted that Western Europe could no longer expect the relationship to continue unchanged, however, Trump merely said so openly, and began reshaping it accordingly. Brussels was slow to recognize the implications, but it has now largely done so.
It’s far too early to write the obituary of the Atlantic alliance because the ties linking both sides of the ocean remain exceptionally strong, and their shared interests are substantial, but the West is undergoing yet another transformation. It has done so before, and it will do so again.
This brings us back to Ukraine, as the United States is reducing its direct role in European affairs, seeking a position that preserves strategic influence while avoiding responsibility for the continent’s security. Western Europe must therefore assume greater responsibility for its own defense, while, at the same time, it needs a new political narrative capable of holding the half-continent together.
An external threat provides exactly that, and Russia has become the ideal instrument.
Over the past four years, the perception of a growing Russian threat has justified NATO’s expansion to include formerly neutral countries and it has enabled Brussels to sever most economic ties and virtually all political relations with Moscow. Confrontation with Russia has become the organizing principle of both Western European foreign policy and, increasingly, domestic politics and physical barriers and new political ‘curtains’ are once again dividing Europe from Russia.
The next step, however, requires something more ambitious, the institutional consolidation of Western Europe around an explicitly anti-Russian agenda, echoing the mature Cold War.
There are, however, two serious obstacles. The first is that, despite an intense ideological campaign, Western European governments haven’t succeeded in convincing their populations that Russia represents an existential threat comparable to the Soviet Union and attempts, particularly under President Biden, to revive the narrative of the ‘free world’ confronting tyranny have largely failed.
The second problem is that militarization develops its own internal logic. Using military preparedness as a means of promoting national unity and economic revival inevitably creates pressure for the moral and political mobilization of society and eventually, passive public support is no longer enough, but active participation is required.
As the old theatrical saying goes, a gun hanging on the wall in the first act must eventually fire, but nowhere in Western Europe is there a public eager to fight a war. Governments can’t simply compel people to embrace such a role, while re-educating entire societies would take decades, and even then success would be far from guaranteed and this is where Ukraine assumes a new role.
The Ukrainian leadership, determined to continue fighting Russia until its maximalist objectives are achieved, is effectively turning the country into a mercenary force for the wider West. It has embraced the role that Western Europe itself is unwilling to perform in fighting Russia directly and inflicting the greatest possible damage upon it.
That, however, is only part of the story and the other is the drone revolution, which is fundamentally altering the relationship between technology and manpower, as precision strike capabilities increasingly compensate for shortages of personnel.
Paradoxically, this seemingly technical development may prove to be one of the conflict’s most important political consequences.
RT
