The future of Britain’s relationship with Ukraine
Ukrainian premier Volodymyr Zelensky and his wife had tea at Buckingham Palace last week as part of an official visit but almost nobody noticed. Mary Dejevsky wonders why
Blink and you could have missed it. The president of Ukraine and his wife have just spent two days on an official visit to the UK, and almost no one noticed – which was a pity. The president of where? you ask. Ukraine – you remember, the country we made such a fuss about a few years ago when Moscow lopped off its Crimean peninsula and attached it to Russia, claiming it belonged there all along? And who is the president exactly? Well, you must remember something about the guy everyone called a comedian who
played a fictional president in a television series and then won an election for real? Well, that’s who. Volodymyr Zelensky is now President Zelensky, he has a wife called Olena, and they were in London on 7 and 8 October.
The First Couple (though I don’t think they particularly embrace American-style titles) took tea at Buckingham Palace with William and Kate, the first event to be held at the reopened palace. And the president signed a voluminous agreement on all sorts of bilateral cooperation with Boris Johnson. There was no public welcome at the door of Number 10, however, and no joint press conference either.
Now it may be that we were all just too preoccupied with Covid and Brexit to pay much attention to anything else. But I did not see any footage on the BBC or on any other mainstream television news service about the Zelenskys being in town. I did not see anything much in the papers either, other than a formal picture before the tea-party at the palace. The Zelenskys came and left almost silently, as was maybe thought fitting in the time of coronavirus.
True, the Foreign Office published a couple of official pictures on its website, and a screed of officialese about the small print of the agreement. And, while in London, Zelensky spent half an hour – you can’t fault his courage – being interrogated by the BBC’s Stephen Sackur for his programme Hard Talk - first aired in the small hours of 13 October, by which time the president was long back in Kiev. But a high profile visit this was not, at least not for the UK public.
For Ukrainians, in Ukraine and the UK, it was another matter. The presidential visit to the UK featured prominently in the Ukrainian media over the two days that he was here, with the emphasis on his meetings with “top officials” and royalty. The joint agreement was given great play, and between the lines it was possible to read satisfaction that Ukraine’s president was being treated with the dignity that accords to a real head of state.
As well he might be. Zelensky is indeed a real head of state of a country of 39 million people in a crucially strategic position in Europe. He was elected by a landslide in an indisputably democratic election in a country that reclaimed its independence only 30 years ago and whose democracy has had a roughish ride. He warrants all the support he can get – which has not always, or so it seems to me, been quite as forthcoming as it could have been in the nearly 18 months since he took on the job.
So well done British diplomacy. That was the right thing to do, not least because his London visit followed what seems to have been a rather so-so Ukraine-EU “summit” in Brussels. And, of course, there was something in it for the UK, too.
Another country was added to the list of those that the Johnson government has concluded trade agreements with, to replace those lost with Brexit. The visit also gave the Foreign Secretary an opportunity for a few more digs at Russia – in the wake of the apparent poisoning of the Russian opposition figure, Alexei Navalny. Thus it was that, according to the Foreign Office, Dominic Raab reaffirmed the UK’s support for Ukraine’s sovereignty and territorial integrity “in the face of malign behaviour from Russia”.
There will also be some UK jobs. The agreement contains a considerable security element, providing for military assistance in addition to the help the UK already provides for military training. One element worth noting is that the UK will build or help build eight warships for the Ukrainian Navy – on financing terms favourable, so the Ukrainian side stressed, to Kiev.
In some ways, taken together, the visit can be seen as a belated present from the UK to Ukraine and its president, and Boris Johnson offered some typically gushing words. “The UK,” he said, “is Ukraine’s most fervent supporter. Whether it’s our defence support, stabilisation efforts, humanitarian assistance or close cooperation on political issues, our message is clear: we are utterly committed to upholding the sovereignty and territorial integrity of Ukraine.” Which was a satisfactorily feel-good message for the Zelenskys to take home.
But there could have been another aspect to the London visit, too: as a sort of consolation prize for a visit that has conspicuously not yet happened. A photo-opportunity with the president of the United States is seen as a landmark in the early months of any national leader deemed, like Ukraine, to be orientating his
country towards the west. So far, though, Zelensky has not had his promised summit with Donald Trump and, given the president’s illness and the pressing electoral timetable, it looks very much as though any Washington trip will have to wait until after 3 November, or even – were Trump to lose – for the new president to take office.
That would make it the best part of two years before a leader who has done almost everything right receives what might be seen as the ultimate seal of approval. What then might be seen as the problems Zelensky has faced, and to an extent still faces, in gaining full acceptance among those who might have been expected to be his loudest cheer-leaders abroad?
They fall into three categories: who he is and how he got the job; his record in the 18 months he has been in power; and lastly, a peculiarly American complication.
Throughout his electoral campaign, Zelensky was presented abroad as “a comedian” or, more correctly, “an actor”, from the fact that he had become a Ukrainian household name by starring in a hugely popular TV series, called Servant of the People. But to describe him as “just an actor” led to a fatal under-rating of his appeal.
Behind him, he had a law degree and a highly successful career as a producer and writer that had given him financial independence. The TV series that made his name – which started out from the conceit of a common-or-garden history teacher being elected president – was also far more edgy than it was often given credit for and exposed many of Ukraine’s post-Soviet ills, including the endemic corruption and how it affected people’s day-to-day lives.
What is more, once he had decided to stand for president, he applied himself to the task with due earnestness and harnessed all his professional know-how to the campaign. Criticism that he had no programme was quite wrong.
His chief plan – to end the conflict with Russia-supported rebels in the east, or at least to end the bloodshed – was widely supported in Ukraine, where war weariness had set in. This, and his pledge to try to end the corruption that ate at people’s daily lives and discouraged investment, is what won him the election – though his personal geniality and nationwide fame hardly came amiss.
The temptation for outsiders, however, was not to treat either his candidacy or his victory with the seriousness it deserved. This was made all the easier by the west’s generally positive assessment of his predecessor, Petro Poroshenko, and their confidence, until a late stage, that only he could win. Among his credentials were all the right noises he had made about the US and the EU and his uncompromising attitude to Russia. In Ukraine, however, he was widely seen to be coasting, to have no plan to end the war and to have allowed his anti-corruption campaign to languish.
After Zelensky won – and Poroshenko accepted the result - Ukraine’s western champions seemed at a loss as to what to do next. The enthusiasm that should have greeted a president who had won by a landslide after playing by all the democratic rules seemed strangely low-key. Invitations including to the US were mysteriously lacking. It was almost as though Ukraine’s erstwhile advocates were banking that he would fail; instead, he called early parliamentary elections and replicated his majority in Parliament (the Rada).
Even so, the West seemed uncommitted and biding its time. France – where president Macron had apparently had his ear bent by the writer-journalist Bernard-Henri Levy, who had followed Zelensky’s campaign – was an honourable exception. This is one reason why the Ukrainian president’s recent London visit was in many ways a milestone.
So how has he fared in office? Naturally, given the 75 per cent share of the vote that propelled him to power, there has been disappointment – in Ukraine, if not among wiseacres abroad. Several criticisms that some might have expected to make, however, cannot be made. Whatever he has done or not done, he has not disgraced the office; he has not “sold out” to Russia, and he has not failed as president – at least not yet.
This does not mean, however, that his presidency so far can be judged a success. His approval ratings now stand at around 35 per cent. He has already replaced about half of his first Cabinet, which had drawn plaudits for its combination of qualifications, energy and youth. The only proceedings that have been instituted against any of the oligarchs so far have been against his predecessor, Poroshenko, who is seen as one of the less venal. He has replaced the chief prosecutor and the head of the Central Bank – who were generally well thought of, at least by some of Kiev’s western investors.
The sense of purpose and energy that Zelensky first brought to the presidency seem to have dissipated. This time last year, he risked early elections to get a parliament to his liking; it rushed through long-delayed legislation on, among other things, impeachment, land reform and the creation of a special court to hear corruption cases. Now, the legislative process seems increasingly bogged down.
As almost everywhere, day-to-day government has been largely stalled by the pandemic, where Ukraine can be said to have performed neither as well as it might have done nor as badly as feared. As for the war, there is a ceasefire on the eastern front that has held longer than any, but no sign of the restoration of Ukraine’s territorial integrity, still less of peace.
While there are many doom-watchers, especially outside Ukraine and among those in Ukraine who are most enthusiastically pro-western, Zelensky is not yet one third through his five-year term. And one quality he has shown – unusual for an inexperienced leader – is patience. Those who feared he would rush into an unwise deal with Russia, for instance, have been proved wrong. Zelensky took his time before meeting the Russian president, Vladimir Putin, and seems to have established a rapport – they speak regularly on the phone – without giving ground. He deserves credit for that, as for making the repatriation of prisoners and a halt to the fighting his priorities.
Challenged on his record in his BBC Hard Talk interview, Zelensky was robust – and good-humoured – in his defence. He said he had ditched his first prosecutor-general because he had made zero progress after six months, and if his successor did the same, she would go the same way. He was clearly conversant with all the details of competing timetables and sequences for advancing a settlement in the Donbas. But, in what might seem a contradiction, then again might not be, he insisted that he had time to honour his election promises, while demanding rapid achievements from his staff.
And if he failed? Well, then he would leave office. “I always said, I’m not clinging to the ratings, nor am I clinging to power. So, if I can’t stop the war, then there needs to be a different person who will be able to end this tragic story.” Towards the end, he elaborated, “Nothing matters to me except for making cardinal changes and going down in the history of my country. I have no other ambition whatsoever.” Such an attitude is both an asset and a liability in politics, but here is an individual who knows there are other things he can do.
Of course, Zelensky must take responsibility for what has gone right and what has gone wrong in his first months in office, and he seems cheerfully accepting of that. But one complication that came straight out of left field had nothing whatever to do with him, yet could have left a scar. In the event, the damage was slight, largely because he kept his cool.
Last autumn, Ukraine found itself dragged into internal US politics, when a whistleblower accused Donald Trump of trying to get Kiev to start an investigation into the activities of Joe Biden and his son in Ukraine. Biden junior had been paid rather large sums to sit on the board of a certain energy company, when his father was vice-president, in an arrangement that seemed far from transparent. Biden senior was not then the Republican presidential nominee, but Trump’s purpose seemed to be to blacken the Biden name just in case. The charge against Trump was that, in approaching Zelensky, he had turned to a foreign country to play US domestic politics, and this was illegal. He was impeached, but acquitted early this year.
Where this became difficult for Zelensky was that Trump had promised his predecessor, Poroshenko, a consignment of US Javelin missiles to help the war in the east, but these had not been delivered before he left office. A US diplomat subsequently disclosed that Trump had set a price for releasing the Javelins – and this was Zelensky’s assent to start investigating the Bidens. This was subsequently denied; what was never denied, was that what was being made conditional on an investigation was Zelensky’s hoped-for Washington summit.
The scandal brought to light much ill-feeling and conflict between the White House and the State Department in relation to Ukraine. Trump sacked the ambassador in a brutal way, and her replacement has not yet arrived in Kiev. Although tapes of the Trump-Zelensky conversation show the Ukraine president in somewhat obsequious mode, his caution belied his inexperience and no serious damage was done. The whole affair, though, essentially stymied Ukrainian-US relations for more than half a year at a time when the new president could have benefited from support.
With hindsight, however, this undoubted setback in relations with the US may, perversely, have served Zelensky well. In a recent interview for the Yalta European Strategy forum, whose annual conference in Kiev usually serves as a vital catch-up for those interested in Ukraine, the US Deputy Secretary of State, Stephen Biegun, admitted that he had been “pleasantly surprised by the success Ukraine had had in representing its own interest”. One conclusion that could be drawn is that the vacuum in US-Ukraine policy had made it easier for Zelensky to talk to the Russians without third-party (US) pressure. Another is that a Biden presidency might start uneasily for Ukraine.
In all, though, Zelensky’s first year-and-a-half could have been a lot worse. The disappointment felt by many surely reflects more the sky-high hopes of his supporters, rather than any signal shortcoming on his part. He has time to make good, but also to make mistakes.
From here on out, the ride could be rough. Ukraine’s economy has been ravaged no less than others by the coronavirus; much-needed investment may not come, either because other pandemic-drained treasuries have no spare money or because Zelensky has been unable to drum up sufficient trust in Ukraine’s institutions. Where Putin in Russia managed to banish oligarchs from politics early on in his presidency, Ukraine’s political tycoons are still able, to an extent, to run a shadow show.
And yet... Ukraine has so much going for it. It is a big and currently poor country, but far more manageable than Russia. It has a fierce sense of its own identity, which has only been reinforced by the conflict in the east. It has emerged from one of the most complicated histories of any European country through the 20th century and developed a cacophonous democracy over the past dozen years. It has hectare upon hectare of rich agricultural land that is already turning Ukraine back into a major exporter of grain.
But there is something else about Ukraine, too. Speaking at the Chatham House think-tank at the end of Zelensky’s visit to London, the head of his administration, Andriy Yermak, dwelt doggedly on the aspects of the just-signed bilateral agreement that most pleased Ukraine. Mostly they related to security. He also listed the epoch-making reforms Zelensky had already pushed through, in an effort to reassure investors, and highlighted the primacy of human life and health as justification for the terms of the ceasefire in the east.
At one point, though, Yermak – a lawyer turned film-maker in his previous life – changed his tone and spoke about the opportunities his new job had given him to travel around and see his native country with fresh eyes. It was, he said, a beautiful land with wonderful places to see.
He is right. And so many of his fellow-Ukrainians feel the same way. In following some of the election campaign last year, I travelled hundreds of miles around a country that is vast, varied, but liveable, on a human scale. Its contemporary artists, writers and designers have a distinctive, quirky flair. Rather as Belgium cannot be mistaken for France, so Ukraine is not to be confused with Russia.
The renovation projects will take decades, but are starting to be done. In Ukraine’s second city Kharkiv, the vast historical museum in the very centre has a new blue facade that is closed for lack of money; the back – Soviet-era – entrance is the way in; and history still runs ahead of their capacity to chronicle it. They were still trying to make room for the 2004-5 Orange Revolution, when 10 years later, the uprising began in Kiev that removed then president Viktor Yanukovych. Kharkiv’s decision at that point may have saved Ukraine from all-out civil war.
In the small city of Vinnitsa, in the south-west – a pioneer of town-planning in the late Russian empire – the centre has been meticulously restored. Visit Lviv in the far west and sense the shades of the Lithuanian and Polish past – and, as in so many parts of Ukraine, the suffering. Having barely recovered from the 1928-34 famine, many cities in Ukraine changed hands several times during the Second World War, sometimes within days. Allegiances fractured and grievances linger. Soviet brutalism has left its scars.
So much money, so much energy, so much vision is still needed. Volodymyr Zelensky came seemingly out of another world with a mandate to unite Ukraine, restore the borders as they were when it seized its independence as the Soviet Union collapsed, and lead Ukraine to its rightful place in the Europe of the 21st century. Let’s hope, with his energy, vision and what remains of his popular mandate, he can do it. If he can’t, maybe no one can. In the meantime, I predict: next time he comes to the UK, if there is a next time, we will know all about it and it will be a full-dress State Visit.