On Appeasement

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist.

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out— because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

-Martin Niemöller

On February 23, 2022, I remember seeing a notification on my phone from Google News saying that the Russian army had crossed the Ukrainian border, marking the end of a stretch of relative peace on the European continent. Russia’s unprompted invasion of Ukraine is another moment where we, as high school students, can say that we’re living through an important historical event—but this, for obvious reasons, felt quite different than something like the pandemic. Peace was not in such peril during COVID. I remember messaging a friend at the time of the invasion and considering all of the possible repercussions of the conflict. Over the course of the week, I spent my time in Quebec stalking the Google News app, messaging about every troop movement, every casualty update, every fallen city, and generally fearing the future, for the first time in a while. Never in my life did I picture the world so on the verge of another great power conflict, especially one that so closely mimicked the violence of the Second World War–the slow encroachment on the sovereignty of foreign nations as seen in Austria and Czechoslovakia echoed by Crimea and Georgia, the mass deportations of civilians, the false flag justifications. Most of what Putin’s Russia is doing to justify their invasion of Ukraine echoes, in some form, the actions of Hitler’s Third Reich in the months and years leading up to September 1939. 

Consider Niemöller’s words as he speaks of the Nazis going after certain groups of perceived enemies, one by one. If, like me, you grew up going to Hebrew school, I’m sure that you’ve seen them before. We were shown them frequently around Yom Hashoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day, as a lesson against violence in all its forms. We were taught that it takes the combined strength of many to overcome a tyrannical government, or, on a geopolitical scale, an expansionist, fanatically nationalist, fascist dictatorship. As I witnessed news about the Russian invasion in 2022, I was reminded of what Niemöller, a German theologist, said after his nation came after him in July of 1937. Niemöller, in his experiences, found no political enemies of the Reich left to stand up for clergymen like him. The state had already put political prisoners, socialist politicians, unionists, homosexuals, and many other perceived enemies in concentration camps. The Jews had begun to be put in camps as well – even those not in camps had been stripped of most of their rights. When the Russians invaded Ukraine, they had already tested the waters of Western responses to such advances in the 2008 invasion of Georgia and the 2014 annexation of Crimea following Ukraine’s Revolution of Dignity. And, while it’s not yet too late to stop Russian expansionism, it’s approaching a breaking point, a reality that echoed both within and outside of Germany in the 1930s. Though Russia is not replicating the Holocaust (one would hope), Niemöller’s words about his experience being persecuted for standing up against authoritarianism calls to mind the western European policy of appeasement.

Appeasement towards the German Führer was a policy that led the world to ruin in the lead-up to the Second World War. The West continuously handed the German state whatever Hitler wanted in order to avoid a war for which the West was unprepared. First, troops on the Rhine. Then, Austria. And Czechoslovakia. Each time, when the Nazis came for a sovereign nation, the West did not speak out. What was impossible for the Western powers to know was that Germany was less prepared than they were, and, had the West defended against any of these acts of aggression, WWII could have been stopped before it even started. All the same, leaving Ukraine to the Russian bear demonstrates to the Russians that, even though Russians have to deal with some sanctions, they can get away with their unwarranted aggression. 

Niemöller reminds us that when the West finally defended Poland in 1939, it was far too late. The Germans had come for the West, and there was no one left to defend them but themselves. Today, Niemöller’s words echo as hauntingly as the reverberations of Russia’s bombs.

I notice the parallels with WWII conflicts as news about the war in Ukraine floods in. Not even a century ago, in 1938, the Munich Agreement was established, ceding the Czechoslovak German-speaking region of the Sudetenland to Germany. It’s worth mentioning that the government of Czechoslovakia had no say in this agreement. Hitler’s reasoning for why he needed the Sudetenland was that he feared the Czechoslovak treatment of the German people in the region. Does that sound familiar? It’s the exact same reasoning used by Russian President Vladimir Putin for his ongoing “special military operation” in Ukraine. And his annexation of Crimea in 2014. And his invasion of Georgia in 2008. Over the course of the war, it has been questioned whether this is a prelude to another war, one that may be far more destructive than anything seen in human history. Though Putin recently issued a statement that he doesn’t see the induction of Nordic nations like Finland or Sweden into NATO as a threat, Russia may still be in a position to respond to such an advance. If Russia begins to police the politics of nations in the U.S./E.U. sphere of influence, tensions between the West and Russia and her allies are more likely to skyrocket.

Similarities and differences between the German and Russian invasions hinge on the ways in which the international systems have functioned in the past and present. The League of Nations, which was supposed to curb German aggression, proved to be a defunct organization. Recently, the U.N. has not proven to be much better: it has remained virtually silent in the wake of the current Ukraine invasion, even with hindsight from WWII. If the West doesn’t speak out, as Niemöller suggested is necessary, they will encounter the same risks of Russian aggression running rampant and dominating the geopolitical stage. 

The main difference between the invasions of past and present is the ramifications of a global war due to the use of nuclear weapons. An escalated conflict will be difficult to keep conventional, as the price for defeat may be steep and regime changes, particularly for an authoritarian Russia, are a daunting consequence of capitulation. In any case, it will be difficult to aid Ukraine, or any future target of Russian aggression, without playing a dangerous game of brinksmanship. 

Despite the ever-present threat of nuclear war, however, I hope that world leaders can use the lessons of the past and Niemöller’s words effectively. May the Ukrainian people, and the Western world at large, find someone to speak for the freedoms of democracy before authoritarianism comes for them too.