Victory in war is sometimes easy to define. World War II ended with Allied troops in control of Berlin and Tokyo, and with the German and Japanese leadership removed. The Vietnam War, on the other hand, ended in a clear defeat for the US: North Vietnam conquered South Vietnam, despite the futile expenditure of 58,000 American lives. The Korean War is sometimes called a stalemate because it never formally ended.
However, such definitions can be deceiving. The US removed former Iraqi president Saddam Hussein, but neither found weapons of mass destruction, the justification for their deployment, nor turned that country into a functioning democracy. Worse, some cynics would argue that the true victor was Iran, which became the most influential political force in Iraq.
On the other hand, although the demilitarized zone remains in place in Korea, the southern half of the peninsula has evolved into a vibrant, prosperous democracy with an annual per capita income of US$35,000, whereas North Korea is a dangerous dictatorship with an estimated annual per capita income of US$1,200 and recurrent food crises. Who won the stalemated war?
This brings us to Ukraine, where the definition of victory depends on the participants’ war aims and time horizons. In 2014, Russia invaded Ukraine on the pretext of protecting Russian speakers in Crimea and parts of the eastern Donbas region. Eight years later, Russia tried to complete the process by destroying Ukraine as an independent state. As Russian President Vladimir Putin wrote in 2021, he did not regard Ukraine as an independent nation but as part of the larger Russian world. He massed troops on the border with the intent of capturing Kyiv in a few days and replacing the Ukrainian government, much as the USSR had done in Budapest in 1956 and Prague in 1968.
He failed. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy rejected advice to flee the country and create a government-in-exile, and instead rallied his troops, saved the capital, and derailed Putin’s plan. Zelenskiy subsequently used the soft power of attraction to win foreign support and increase Ukraine’s hard power of military might. The result of Putin’s invasion was to strengthen Ukraine’s national identity and NATO, which has added two new members, Finland and Sweden, that previously had a long-standing policy of neutrality. Judging by Putin’s original war objectives, Ukraine has already won.
The problem, of course, is that Russian troops still control approximately one-fifth of Ukraine’s territory, and Putin has revised his war goals to demand that Ukraine recognize his annexation of four eastern provinces, including some that Russian troops do not fully control. The war seems to be stalemated, but Putin has turned it into a war of attrition. While Russian casualties are enormous, he may be betting that time is on his side, given Russia’s larger population and economy. Eventually, Ukraine’s will to fight might erode, as would Western support.
According to one poll, 26 percent of Ukrainians are open to a diplomatic solution, but are not willing to engage in sham negotiations with an unrepentant Putin. About 86 percent of Ukrainians believe Russia is likely to attack again even if a peace treaty is signed. Although Russia and Ukraine have expressed a willingness to negotiate, they remain far apart. This summer, Hungary’s Kremlin-friendly prime minister, Viktor Orban, went to Moscow to mediate, but failed to change Putin’s position. Meanwhile, former US president Donald Trump continues to claim he could settle the war in a day; but it is hard to see how that could be accomplished by anything short of a Ukrainian surrender.
Recently, Czech President Petr Pavel, a former NATO general who has been a strong backer of Ukraine, stated that “to talk about a defeat of Ukraine or a defeat of Russia, it will simply not happen. So the end will be somewhere in between.”
Pavel warned that part of Ukrainian territory would remain under Russian occupation temporarily, and that “temporarily” could mean years. If Ukraine defines victory as the return of all land that Russia has occupied since 2014, victory is not in sight. However, if it aims to maintain its independence as a democracy linked to Europe, while reserving its right to the ultimate return of its territory, victory remains possible.
However, this possible victory also means that Putin must not be able to declare his own victory. Ukraine must be given the support it needs to strengthen its bargaining position. Even if Ukraine cannot achieve its maximalist goals in the short run, the legitimacy of its position would be preserved in the long term as long as Russian gains are not recognized.
This is sometimes referred to as a Korean solution. An armistice and demilitarized zone along the line of control would be monitored by international peacekeepers, so that Russia would draw in many other countries were it to resume its attack. While it may not be possible to get 32 NATO members to agree to Ukraine’s formal membership in the alliance at this time, a group of NATO members calling themselves “friends of Ukraine” could monitor the zone and vow to respond to any new act of Russian aggression.
Finally, Ukraine would also need assistance to rebuild its economy and access to EU markets. While a Korean solution would not satisfy Ukraine’s maximalist goals in the short term, it would certainly deserve to be called a Ukrainian victory.
Joseph S. Nye, Jr., professor emeritus at Harvard University, is a former US assistant secretary of defense and author of the memoir A Life in the American Century.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
In the US’ National Security Strategy (NSS) report released last month, US President Donald Trump offered his interpretation of the Monroe Doctrine. The “Trump Corollary,” presented on page 15, is a distinctly aggressive rebranding of the more than 200-year-old foreign policy position. Beyond reasserting the sovereignty of the western hemisphere against foreign intervention, the document centers on energy and strategic assets, and attempts to redraw the map of the geopolitical landscape more broadly. It is clear that Trump no longer sees the western hemisphere as a peaceful backyard, but rather as the frontier of a new Cold War. In particular,
When it became clear that the world was entering a new era with a radical change in the US’ global stance in US President Donald Trump’s second term, many in Taiwan were concerned about what this meant for the nation’s defense against China. Instability and disruption are dangerous. Chaos introduces unknowns. There was a sense that the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) might have a point with its tendency not to trust the US. The world order is certainly changing, but concerns about the implications for Taiwan of this disruption left many blind to how the same forces might also weaken
As the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) races toward its 2027 modernization goals, most analysts fixate on ship counts, missile ranges and artificial intelligence. Those metrics matter — but they obscure a deeper vulnerability. The true future of the PLA, and by extension Taiwan’s security, might hinge less on hardware than on whether the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) can preserve ideological loyalty inside its own armed forces. Iran’s 1979 revolution demonstrated how even a technologically advanced military can collapse when the social environment surrounding it shifts. That lesson has renewed relevance as fresh unrest shakes Iran today — and it should
As the new year dawns, Taiwan faces a range of external uncertainties that could impact the safety and prosperity of its people and reverberate in its politics. Here are a few key questions that could spill over into Taiwan in the year ahead. WILL THE AI BUBBLE POP? The global AI boom supported Taiwan’s significant economic expansion in 2025. Taiwan’s economy grew over 7 percent and set records for exports, imports, and trade surplus. There is a brewing debate among investors about whether the AI boom will carry forward into 2026. Skeptics warn that AI-led global equity markets are overvalued and overleveraged