Yaroslav Bazylevych came to The Hague at the end of January to bear witness — to relive the worst day of his life again to try to win the West’s attention.
In September, a Russian hypersonic missile tore through his home in Lviv, Ukraine, instantly killing his wife, Yevheniya, and their three daughters — Yaryna, Dariya and Emiliya. No matter how deeply we try to empathize, no one can comprehend such a loss.
Bazylevych speaks because retelling his story is the only way to make us see — if we are willing — the true and heinous nature of Russian aggression. So that Americans and Europeans might feel, even for a moment, the enormity of the violence Russia inflicts on Ukrainians. So we might finally grasp that “never again” is not just a phrase to recite in speeches, but a sacred responsibility. Living up to it begins with a clear admission: Ending a war of conquest is never in the victim’s hands.
When a murderer announces an intent to kill, then breaks into your home to do exactly that, the only way for the victim to “deliver peace” is to die quietly. Ukraine rejects war every single day. The problem is that the invaders haven’t rejected the killing.
Three years into Russia’s full-scale invasion, we remain trapped in “both-sides-ism” and a postmodern discomfort with moral clarity. Ukraine’s fight is righteous. And Russia, which launched an unprovoked war, deserves nothing but defeat.
During the Cold War, Soviet Russia posed a direct threat to America, and its nuclear arsenal dwarfed today’s Russian capabilities. Yet the U.S., led by President Ronald Reagan, stood firm. What Neville Chamberlain failed to grasp — but Reagan understood — is that strength prevents wars, while appeasement precipitates them.
The lesson remains unchanged: Russia invades not because it feels threatened, but because it perceives weakness and division. Endless Western concessions have only emboldened Moscow. We looked away after Georgia in 2008, did too little after Crimea in 2014 and let the downing of MH17 fade into diplomatic obscurity.
Each time, we sent a message: aggression pays. And each time, Russia took it as a down payment on the next war.
The free world largely does not understand what Russia is: not a nation with interests, but an empire addicted to conquest. From the Caucasus to Crimea, from the Arctic to the Pacific, Moscow has enriched itself by plundering others.
Unlike other colonial powers, Russia never faced a reckoning. The Soviet collapse didn’t end Russia’s imperial project, but merely paused it. Now the Kremlin is at it again, dressing ruthless and deliberate violence in the language of grievance, branding colonization as “reunification.”
President Donald Trump has pledged to “secure peace through strength.” If he means it, he must ensure Ukraine wins. Not a negotiated surrender. Not a pause before the next invasion. A victory.
Some treat the non-zero chance of nuclear war as the ultimate argument — a way to end all debate. But the problem with this framing is that it is always true. The bigger concern, the one we refuse to face, is what happens if we let it dictate our response.
Moscow has already rattled its nuclear saber, and now we live in a world where that threat has been made. If we cave to it, we won’t be preventing nuclear confrontation but making it more likely.
A Russia that walks away with anything resembling a win will rewrite the rules of global security, shattering the doctrine of nuclear non-proliferation. The next crisis won’t be a matter of if but when — and when it comes, we will be living in a world a lot more combustible than that of today.
Moscow is bleeding out and Beijing is watching. Chinese President Xi Jinping has studied every move of Russia’s war. He has learned what the Kremlin can endure, what the West will tolerate and where the cracks are forming.
Russia’s economy is faltering, the ruble is in freefall and Moscow is slashing social spending to keep the war machine running. India has capitalized on Russia’s desperation after its self-inflicted divorce from Europe, snapping up cheap oil, coal and fertilizers while settling 90 percent of trade in local currencies. Now both India and China are growing wary — halting Russian oil purchases for March, as their banks fear U.S. sanctions.
What happens next in Ukraine will not stay in Ukraine. If the Kremlin profits from aggression, Xi will take his lesson. Strength now will shape not just Ukraine’s future, but the balance of power for years to come.
It is time to use Russia’s stolen wealth against it. $300 billion in frozen Russian assets remain untapped, a tool not yet wielded. As Niall Ferguson and Chris Miller recently argued, these funds should be seized to rebuild Ukraine, just as German assets were used after World War II. This isn’t only practical — it’s just.
The choice before us is stark: strength or surrender, moral courage or appeasement. Will we let Yaroslav Bazylevych’s grief be ignored, his daughters’ stolen futures dismissed?
If we cannot summon the will to act for Ukraine’s sake, we must do so for America’s. Capabilities without credibility are no deterrent, but a grotesque charade. Hesitate now and America’s adversaries will stop taking us seriously.
Ukraine has done its part. It is time America does the same.
Andrew Chakhoyan is an academic director at the University of Amsterdam. He previously served in the U.S. government at the Millennium Challenge Corporation and studied at Harvard Kennedy School and Donetsk State Tech University.
