ceding territory to Russia won’t bring peace—it will ignite the next invasion
As the brutal war in Ukraine enters its third year, the world stands at a critical crossroads. On the eve of Donald Trump’s inauguration, it is worth reflecting on the stakes: the decisions made now will shape the global order for decades to come. Among the most dangerous narratives emerging in Western discourse is the idea that ceding territory to Russia might bring peace. It is a tempting proposition for leaders weary of war and its economic fallout. But history shows that this path will not lead to stability—it will invite more aggression.
They call it "fair peace," but there is nothing fair—or lasting—about rewarding aggression.
Imagine this scenario: a landowner in the United States wakes up one day to find that 20% of their property has been seized by a powerful neighbor. The government, instead of defending the landowner’s rights, negotiates with the aggressor and declares the theft a "fair compromise" in the name of peace. What would this trigger? Outrage, chaos, and likely more land grabs, as others realize aggression is rewarded.
This is precisely what ceding Ukrainian territory to Russia would represent on the global stage. Ukraine is not just fighting for its land—it is fighting for the principle that borders cannot be redrawn by force. Allowing Russia to annex portions of Ukraine sends a dangerous message: that might makes right, and that sovereignty and territorial integrity are negotiable.
Russia’s invasion of Ukraine is not an isolated event—it is part of a long-term strategy to reassemble the Soviet sphere of influence. Since 2008, when Russian tanks rolled into Georgia, Vladimir Putin has repeatedly tested the West’s resolve to defend the sovereignty of former Soviet states. In 2014, he seized Crimea and backed military action in eastern Ukraine with limited consequences. The West’s half-measures and delayed sanctions sent Moscow a dangerous message: aggression pays.
Now, Georgia faces renewed peril. Its recently elected pro-Russian president has installed leadership that paves the way for a future Russian takeover. Combined with the continued presence of Russian troops in South Ossetia and Abkhazia, Georgia is increasingly vulnerable to hybrid warfare and territorial incursions. Similarly, Moldova’s breakaway region of Transnistria, home to Russian troops, represents another likely flashpoint. Without NATO membership or strong international security guarantees, these nations remain exposed to Russian ambitions.
As Russia advances its goals in Ukraine, Georgia, and Moldova, it may inspire other pro-Russian states to act. Serbia, a close ally of Moscow, could seize the opportunity to escalate aggression toward Kosovo—a non-NATO territory whose independence Serbia, Russia, and others refuse to recognize. Tensions between Serbia and Kosovo have simmered for decades. A failure to deter Russian aggression elsewhere would embolden Serbia to test Western resolve.
The risks extend far beyond Eastern Europe. China, observing the West’s response to Russia, would see appeasement as a green light for its own ambitions in Taiwan. If Russia succeeds in rewriting borders by force, Beijing will feel empowered to pursue territorial claims with impunity. Such erosion of sovereignty as a global principle would have catastrophic consequences, destabilizing regions far beyond Ukraine.
While Putin is unlikely to attack a NATO country outright, uncertainty about the United States’ commitment to its allies raises significant concerns. During his first term, Trump openly questioned NATO’s relevance and cultivated a relationship with Putin that undermined transatlantic unity. His transactional approach to foreign policy, paired with admiration for authoritarian leaders, suggests that smaller, non-aligned states like Georgia, Moldova, and Kosovo might face greater risks under his leadership.
The argument that ceding Ukrainian land could lead to peace ignores history. Appeasement has never satiated authoritarian regimes—it has only whetted their appetite. When Adolf Hitler annexed the Sudetenland in 1938, Western leaders hoped to prevent a larger war. Instead, it emboldened Nazi Germany to launch an all-out assault on Europe. Similarly, allowing Russia to redraw Ukraine’s borders will not end the war—it will set the stage for the next one.
Even worse, a so-called "fair peace" would give the Kremlin time to regroup and rebuild. The Russian military, while battered, would have the opportunity to rearm and prepare for larger conflicts, potentially against NATO itself. Capitulating in Ukraine does not diminish the long-term threat posed by Russia—it amplifies it.
Critics of continued Western support for Ukraine argue that arming Kyiv prolongs the conflict and risks escalation. But this view fails to consider the alternative: a world where aggressors are rewarded, and the West’s deterrence credibility is shattered. The cost of standing with Ukraine—both in military aid and economic resilience—is high, but the cost of inaction would be far greater. It would pave the way for more wars, more instability, and a world where might makes right.
The West must choose between temporary comfort and lasting principles. Peace is a noble goal, but it cannot come at the expense of justice and sovereignty. Ceding Ukrainian territory to Russia would be a short-term fix with catastrophic long-term consequences. It would be the geopolitical equivalent of allowing a land grab at home, normalizing the notion that stronger powers can bully weaker ones into submission.
To ensure long-term stability, the West must make it clear that aggression will not be rewarded. This means continuing to provide Ukraine with the military, economic, and political support it needs to win—not just survive. It means holding Russia accountable and ensuring its imperial ambitions are thwarted, not encouraged. The Berlin Wall did fall, and in time, Putin’s Russia can as well.
The world must learn from history—and recognize the parallels in our own lives. If sovereignty is negotiable, if aggression is rewarded, then no nation, community, or individual is truly secure. Georgia, Moldova, Kosovo, and Taiwan are watching—and so is the rest of the world.
