A Timely Reminder Of What Ukraine’s Defeat Would Mean For The Rest Of Us

-Analysis-

BERLIN — Bahatyr and Vilne Pole. Oleksandropil and Mykhailivka and Malynivka. Here in Germany, these names mean nothing. They stir no feelings, no fear, no terror. They weigh on no one’s mind here, though, quite frankly, they ought to be keeping us up at night.

These are the names of some of the Ukrainian villages recently captured by Russian forces. From afar, the war looks frozen in place; frontline developments hardly ever make it into the German news.

But that’s an illusion. Every day, hundreds of soldiers on both sides are killed. Russian troops keep pressing forward almost daily. They suffer heavy losses, but they keep going. Bit by bit, the Ukrainian army is forced to fall back, digging new trenches over and over, pouring new concrete for bunkers, rebuilding shelters and supply routes. Ukraine is shrinking, one square kilometer at a time, day by day.

What would it mean for us in the middle of Europe if Ukraine’s defense were to collapse?

I’ve seen it happen more than once as a war reporter: conflicts that seem static for years can suddenly erupt with terrifying speed. Frontlines that held steady for ages can break wide open overnight. What was once destruction confined to clearly marked areas spills into the heartland with no warning. Cities, landscapes, and entire political systems get swept up in the chaos. It’s like a military dam breaking, unleashing a tsunami of madness.

What if the current ceasefire talks turn out to be just what they probably are: theater for Donald Trump, an empty show of diplomacy meant to curry favor with the U.S. president? What if, after years of grinding war, Ukraine simply runs out of steam? What if the front collapses?

The shock wouldn’t stop at Ukraine’s borders.

Some on the ground say a major Russian breakthrough is unlikely. Others issue stark warnings. Most of the soldiers and officers I speak to see the threat as real. And that scenario becomes far more likely, even close to inevitable, if arms deliveries are cut off or reduced, as the AfD, the Left Party, and Wagenknecht’s BSW demand. So what would happen then? What exactly would a Ukrainian defeat mean for Germany?

Millions would flee

Ukraine wouldn’t just collapse. The country could fracture into several pieces. The government might fall apart during surrender negotiations. The army could splinter: some units might keep fighting, others might lay down their weapons and still others might switch sides, aligning with Russia and turning their weapons on their former comrades.

The country would become ungovernable. A single front could fragment into many. What began as a war between two countries could devolve into a civil war, the worst kind of war.

No matter what, millions of people would be forced to flee. Ukraine’s population is 44 million. How many would try to escape? Ten million? Half? More? Anyone who has lived in Ukraine in recent years knows what the Russian regime is capable of.

Where would those people go? Poland, the Czech Republic, and most of all, Germany. No one could stop the flood of desperate people at the borders. The refugee caravans of February 2022, which stretched over a hundred kilometers, would only be a taste of what’s to come.

The AfD would capitalize on the need

The shock wouldn’t stop at Ukraine’s borders. It would ripple across nearly every former Soviet republic. Vladimir Putin has repeatedly denied the legitimacy of Estonia, Lithuania, Latvia, Moldova, Kazakhstan and the Central Asian republics. On Russian talk shows — which rarely air anything without prior approval from Putin’s censors — there are frequent calls to return the Baltic states to the old Tsarist empire, once Ukraine is defeated.

And with Donald Trump in charge, there’s no telling whether NATO’s security guarantees would still apply. He has said more than once that he wouldn’t go to war with Putin over the Baltics. It’s also unclear whether the rest of Europe would have the political will or the military power to defend the Baltic states in a crisis.

That leaves 6.5 million people in Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania asking themselves a very practical question. Many would conclude: I need to get myself and my family to safety before it’s too late. So they would flee. Where to? Another EU country. Most likely, Germany. The same goes for people in the eastern border regions of Poland, Slovakia, and Romania. They already feel like they’re living dangerously close to the front.

If you truly want to stop migration, then you must support Ukraine in every possible way.

This is the core contradiction in the AfD’s message. They want to halt migration and, at the same time, stop arms shipments to Ukraine. But you can’t have it both ways. One demand cancels out the other.

If you truly want to stop migration, then you must support Ukraine in every possible way. On the other hand, if you want to pacify Russia by cutting off Ukraine, you have to accept a flood of migrants. Anyone who wants to deny weapons to Volodymyr Zelensky should go ahead and clear out school gyms in Saarbrücken, Erfurt and Bochum for incoming Ukrainian refugees. Anyone ready to hand Ukraine over to Putin might as well set aside parks in Gotha, Chemnitz, Memmingen, Oldenburg, Emden and Annaberg-Buchholz for tent camps. Because people will come.

The result for Germany would be near paralysis. Millions of new refugees would need shelter, food and healthcare, while local governments would buckle under the pressure. And these refugees wouldn’t be going back anytime soon, because the country they left behind would no longer exist. Social tensions would explode on a scale beyond anything we’ve seen so far. The migration challenges of the past decade would seem minor in comparison.

Here’s the bitter truth for German democracy: even though the AfD has always opposed weapons aid to Ukraine and downplayed the threat from Russia, its supporters will likely forget all of that. The party would seize the crisis, fan the flames of fear, fuel resentment and deepen divisions.

The lesson for the world: aggression works

A Ukrainian defeat would hand Putin control over one of Europe’s most important weapons industries. In recent years, Ukraine has built hundreds of emergency factories producing ammunition, armored vehicles and especially drones. With those combined resources, the Russian and Ukrainian drone fleets would outmatch any European military. Russia would find itself in the same position as Hitler’s Germany in 1939, after it absorbed Czechoslovakia and its arms industry. Only thanks to that industrial base did the Wehrmacht succeed in invading Poland.

If Ukraine falls, Russia could also weaponize its control over grain. The world would take a dangerous lesson from this: aggression pays off. It would embolden China to move on Taiwan. Other states might be tempted to escalate or start wars of their own, just as we’re seeing now in Congo, where Rwanda has launched an invasion; in Libya, where new fighting is flaring up; and in Somalia, which faces threats from Ethiopia.

A Russian victory would crank up propaganda pressure on all democratic countries. The world tends to side with the winner. International law would dissolve into a simple rule: might makes right. If you’re weak, it’s your own fault.

Germany would survive the collapse of Ukraine. But it wouldn’t be the same Germany. This isn’t just about morality, freedom, or high-minded values. It’s about preserving the very foundation of the society we live in.

Putin‘s historic moment

Anyone who thinks Putin is satisfied with what he’s taken so far, at the cost of hundreds of thousands of Russian lives, is fooling themselves. Time is on his side. Western leaders who trust Putin to honor treaties are ignoring everything he’s done in the past. He has torn up agreement after agreement. What he wants is to restore the Soviet Union, defeat liberal democracy in a battle of ideologies and push the U.S. out of Europe. Right now, he sees his best chance in decades.

Once again, history is shifting under our feet.

Ukraine needs more help, and fast. We cannot let the dam burst. What sense does it make to slowly rearm the Bundeswehr while Ukraine is still holding the line? Defending the nation is written into our constitution, and we best fulfill that duty by helping Ukraine hold the front. Every idle tank sitting in Bundeswehr storage is a risk to Germany’s security, simply because it is not being used where it’s needed most.

And every day we spend building tanks in Germany is a day wasted. What we truly need are combat drones, and Germany has none. The Bundeswehr today is like a World War II cavalry unit charging into battle on horseback. Horses against tanks.

Surrender to fate?

And this isn’t just about weapons. The new German government urgently needs to set up a coordination center for Ukraine aid. There are so many private groups that want to help but often do so inefficiently, and their lack of knowledge about the country only worsens corruption and frustration. Too much well-meaning aid ends up going nowhere. Aid groups of all sizes need to be coordinated by the government, quickly, competently, and with minimal red tape.

And again, this is not only about handing out food and blankets. Ukraine lacks the resources to build shelters behind the front, to dig trenches and to protect civilians with bunkers.

Why not launch a kind of civilian service program, a protection corps for Ukraine, backed by the state, to recruit volunteers and coordinate efforts with the Ukrainians? Why aren’t German aid workers covered by government insurance? There are so many ways to help Ukraine, a long list of small and very small steps that all aim at one big goal: peace.

This is no time to stand still. We are living through 1848. Through 1912. Through 1939. Once again, history is shifting under our feet. Our restlessness should be much greater. Our anger, too.

We could choose to give in, as the AfD and much of the Left Party suggest. We could accept the idea that Ukraine’s defeat is inevitable. But if we do, then we must also prepare for what follows. No illusions, no false hope. Get the school gyms ready: in Gotha, in Saarlouis and in Annaberg-Buchholz.