Putin is a bad historian, but that’s not the problem with his claims on Ukraine.
For the third time in the last decade, I’ve found it essential to familiarize myself with the Genoese-Mongol wars. This history is 600-800 years old but essential to understanding the Black Sea region and the development of Russia. When Russia illegally invaded Crimea in 2014, I discovered that my knowledge of late medieval history contained a big hole and I raced to fill it on. I was back reviewing this history when the COVID-19 outbreak reached American shores in early 2020. That’s because the Black Plague spread to Western Europe from Crimea. Now I’m back again because I’m trying to master the true history of the region compared to Vladimir Putin’s idiosyncratic version.
Yale professor Timothy Snyder is wholly dismissive of Putin’s claims on Crimea and Southern Ukraine, mainly based on the fact that the region was not part of the original Kievan Rus’ state. But it goes deeper than that.
The Crimean Peninsula has been around for quite a long time, and Russia is a recent creation. What Putin has in mind when he speaks of eternity and is the baptism of a ruler of Kyiv, Valdimar, in 988. From this moment of purity, we are to understand, arose a timeless reality of Russian Crimea (and a Russian Ukraine) which we all must accept or be subject to violence. Crimea becomes “holy.”
It takes time to recount even a small portion of the ways in which this is nonsensical.
Snyder attempts to provide a whirlwind history of the region and it’s helpful as an introduction to the topic. It’s important to know certain facts, like the longstanding Muslim and Mongol control of the peninsula (Russia’s influence in Crimea really begins during the reign of Catherine the Great (1762-1796)), and that Josef Stalin forcibly relocated the indigenous population.
Stalin falsely portrayed the entire Crimean Tatar people as collaborators with the German occupation, and ordered that every single one of them be deported from their homeland. (Putin’s practice of associating entire nations with the Nazis and then seeking to destroy them, as we see, has a tradition.)
In just three days in May 1944, the Soviet secret state police rounded up and forcibly deported 180,014 Crimean Tatars, most of them to Soviet Uzbekistan.
Perhaps if Putin dated Russia’s claims to Crimea and southern Ukraine on these more recent dates rather than on a 10th-Century baptism he’d have a less laughable argument. But as an American, I don’t find Snyder fully convincing. Catherine the Great died a mere four months before George Washington. We wouldn’t take it well if someone argued that the United States has no claim on Virginia because there’s a long history of human settlement that predates the U.S. Constitution. I don’t think most Russians care that the area was once a Mongol or Ottoman possession. It’s a matter of national pride that those rulers were driven out.
The world is filled with formerly powerful peoples and cultures now living as oppressed minorities, as well as many persistent border disputes. What brings order is an agreement to accept borders as they exist, or to engage in civilized negotiations where agreement is not possible. When Ukraine gained independence from the Soviet Union and Russia, Crimea came along for the ride for two simple reasons. First, Crimea had been assigned to the Ukraine SSR by the Soviet government.
Crimea had been an autonomous region thanks to the presence of the Crimean Tatars, which had been eliminated. After the war, it was just a normal oblast, or region, of the Russian republic of the USSR. It fell to Nikita Khrushchev, Stalin’s successor, to decide what to do with the peninsula. A decade after the mass deportation, the peninsula was transferred, at Khrushchev’s initiative, from the Russian to the Ukrainian Soviet Republic.
Khrushchev’s motives were practical. The connection with the Russian republic was a logistical and administrative nightmare. There is no actual land connection to Russia, but there is to Ukraine. Crimea could be sensibly supplied with water and with energy from the Ukrainian side.
This seems much more relevant than a 10th-Century baptism.
The second reason is that the people of Crimea voted to join Ukraine, albeit with less enthusiasm than the rest of the country.
After the Soviet Union fell apart in 1991, deported Crimean Tatars, or their children and grandchildren, made their way back to their homeland, which was now part of independent Ukraine. Every single region of Ukraine voted for independence in a referendum that year, all of them by very wide margins: except Crimea. In Crimea, the vote for Ukrainian independence was still positive — 54% — but this was thirty-six points below the overall national outcome, which was 90%.
Russia acceded to this arrangement, and that should be the end of the story.
It should also be remembered that the Ukrainian SSR was an original signatory to the United Nations charter, granting the USSR a second vote. In this sense, it has had an at least theoretical independence from Russia since the war.
The power of Putin’s claim to Ukraine doesn’t really rise or fall on some interpretation of history. It’s an appeal to Russia’s cultural pride and former power. The way we are supposed to handle these disputes begins with respect for the borders of all members of the United Nations in good standing. That’s where Putin’s actions are indefensible irrespective of any historical or cultural claims he might choose to make. It’s the same reason Saddam Hussein had no right to claim Kuwait for himself, even if he may have had some plausible grievances and historically rationalized territorial arguments. If this norm isn’t respected and enforced then war can break out in dozens of places around the globe.
Simply put, there are a million reasons why Ukraine wound up with the specific borders it was granted upon independence, but that’s really irrelevant. It’s borders were recognized and they should have been respected. Putin’s project to constitute the Soviet Empire isn’t consistent with the peace and order of the world, and this is true without taking into account his failures as a student of history.