World
The oligarch’s precarious balance •
Peace cannot be built by sacrificing the sovereignty of the weakest
What doesn’t add up in Andrey Melnichenko’s essay, which presents itself as a call for the creation of a new European security architecture

Photo: EPA, via ANSA
The essay published by The Economist and authored by the Russian oligarch Andrey Melnichenko, entitled "Why a Broken Russia Is Bad for the World", presents itself as a call for geopolitical realism, international stability and the construction of a new European security architecture. Behind this apparent quest for balance, however, lies a narrative that perpetuates the very logic which, in recent decades, has helped to undermine the continent’s security. By portraying Russia as a misunderstood great power, whose sovereignty is now under threat, the text shifts attention away from the central issue: Moscow’s systematic denial of its neighbours’ sovereignty. The author argues that the war in Ukraine is the result of the collapse of mutual trust and shared security mechanisms. This is a reconstruction that reverses the sequence of events. Relations between Russia and the West did not deteriorate due to a sudden erosion of trust or the mere weakening of international institutions. They broke down because Russia repeatedly violated the principles upon which the post-Cold War global order was founded, culminating in the large-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Long before that, Moscow had already intervened militarily in Moldova, Georgia and Ukraine itself in 2014. Yet the West’s response was often characterised by a search for compromise rather than confrontation. In several instances, Russia was even entrusted with privileged diplomatic roles: in Abkhazia, its troops formed the core of the peacekeeping missions despite its direct involvement in the conflict; in Moldova, it was accepted as a mediator within the OSCE whilst openly supporting Transnistria. Rather than reflecting a hostile attitude towards Moscow, these episodes demonstrate the extent to which the West has often tolerated Russian violations of international law.
A similar distortion arises when the essay describes Ukraine and Russia as peoples belonging to the same historical space. Such a representation obscures centuries of imperial domination. Ukrainian history cannot be reduced to mere coexistence within a shared civilisation. Much of that ‘shared space’ was constructed through conquest, colonisation, forced assimilation and the repression of Ukrainian political and cultural identity. The ongoing war is therefore, first and foremost, an attempt by a formerly colonised nation to preserve its independence from its former ruler. Only subsequently has the conflict taken on a broader dimension in relations between Russia and the West.
The article repeatedly laments the end of a security system that would have guaranteed coexistence between the major powers. However, it omits a fundamental point: that stability was often based on limiting the sovereignty of the states situated between them. For much of the nineteenth century, during the Cold War and even after 1991, the interests of smaller countries were frequently treated as negotiable. The real failure of the European order therefore lies not in the inability to safeguard Russia’s status, but in the inability to guarantee the full sovereignty of the former Soviet states.
Particularly problematic is the claim that Russian sovereignty is currently the target of Western policies. There is no concrete evidence to support this assertion. No Western government has ever proposed occupying Russia, dismantling its state or denying its legal sovereignty. Economic sanctions, diplomatic isolation and military support for Ukraine represent a response to Moscow’s violations of international law, not an attempt to wipe out the Russian Federation. On the contrary, it is Russia that has systematically curtailed the sovereignty of its neighbouring countries through military intervention, economic coercion, manipulation of frozen conflicts and political pressure.
The essay argues that Ukrainian security cannot be built by denying Russia’s sovereignty, without, however, citing any instance in which Kyiv has actually curtailed that sovereignty. On the contrary, for decades Ukraine has complied with Moscow’s demands. It has accepted the continued presence of the Russian Black Sea Fleet in Crimea through long-term lease agreements, which were maintained even after being renegotiated in the late 2000s under intense economic pressure exerted by Russia through so-called ‘gas diplomacy’. Despite these concessions, Russia’s response was the annexation of Crimea, the war in the Donbas and, finally, the invasion of 2022.
Equally weak is the argument that a lasting peace would require full recognition of sovereignty ‘by both sides’, as only sovereign states would be able to honour agreements. History proves the opposite. Russia has signed numerous treaties recognising Ukraine’s territorial integrity and sovereignty, from the Alma-Ata Protocol to the Budapest Memorandum, right through to the 1997 Treaty of Friendship and the 2003 agreement on the state border. The problem has never been Ukraine’s willingness to negotiate, but rather Moscow’s systematic violation of the commitments it freely undertook. The article also attributes to the West the aim of seeking to destroy or radically curtail Russian sovereignty. This interpretation, too, is not borne out by reality. Western democracies are calling on Russia to respect the norms and treaties to which it has itself acceded, from the United Nations Charter to the Helsinki Final Act. Demanding compliance with international law is not the same as attacking a state’s sovereignty; on the contrary, it means upholding the principle that all sovereign states are subject to the same rules.
Equally questionable is the notion that a Russian defeat in Ukraine would inevitably lead to national humiliation or the loss of Russian sovereignty. Ukraine’s objective is not to occupy Russian territory or to dismantle the Russian Federation, but to restore internationally recognised borders – the very same ones that Russia had formally accepted. To confuse the retention of conquered territories with the defence of sovereignty is to transform aggression into a necessary condition for the very existence of the state.
The article also argues that a weakened Russia would risk ending up in a position of subordination to China, drawing a parallel with the relationship between Ukraine and the West. However, this is a misleading comparison, which overlooks a fundamental difference: Ukraine retains full political autonomy. It was Kyiv that voluntarily chose the path of integration into the European Union, an organisation in which all member states enjoy equal legal standing, regardless of their size. Ukraine’s dependence on Western military assistance has not compromised its sovereignty; on the contrary, the war has probably strengthened both Ukraine’s national identity and its political autonomy. Should Russia become increasingly dependent on China, this would be primarily the result of Moscow’s strategic failures – starting with the invasion of Ukraine – and not of Western policy.
Finally, the article presents the possible fragmentation of Russia as a risk for which the West should feel responsible. However, the stability of multinational states depends first and foremost on the quality of their institutions, the autonomy granted to their territories and the balance in the distribution of power. Any centrifugal forces would be the result of the highly centralised model established by Moscow, not of decisions taken abroad. One cannot expect external actors to guarantee the territorial integrity of a state whose internal political system fails to recognise and value its own pluralism. In conclusion, the essay revives a logic well known in European history: ensuring the tranquillity of the great powers by sacrificing the sovereignty of smaller states. It is a logic that has failed time and again. Even more worrying is the implicit message running through the entire text: to accept Russia’s demands today in order to prevent it from becoming even more dangerous tomorrow. This is not a proposal for peace, but a form of strategic blackmail that ultimately rewards aggression.
The real choice is not between Russia’s sovereignty and Europe’s stability. Russia can remain a fully sovereign state whilst, at the same time, respecting the sovereignty of its neighbours and international law. The lesson of the war in Ukraine is a different one: lasting peace cannot be built by returning to the politics of spheres of influence or by accepting that the security of the great powers should be paid for with the freedom of smaller nations. Only the principle of the sovereign equality of all states can form the foundation of a truly stable European order.