How the West’s Hesitation is Undermining Ukraine’s Fight for Survival
The West’s promises to Ukraine, once bold and unwavering, now seem fragile and conditional, leaving Kyiv to face a brutal war with fading support.
For nearly two years, Ukraine has fought a war of survival, defending its sovereignty against an unrelenting Russian onslaught. In the early days of the full-scale invasion, the West appeared resolute, standing behind Ukraine with an unprecedented show of unity and support. Promises of unwavering assistance, soaring rhetoric about defending democracy, and bold pledges of military aid flooded in from capitals across Europe and the United States. The message was clear: Ukraine would not stand alone in its struggle against Russian aggression.
Yet, as the war grinds on, those promises appear increasingly fragile. What was once a seemingly unbreakable bond between Ukraine and its Western allies has begun to show cracks, exposing a hard reality that Kyiv may not have anticipated. The star power of President Volodymyr Zelensky, who once captivated audiences in Washington, Brussels, and London with his impassioned pleas for aid, has noticeably dimmed. His recent visit to Washington DC, a city where he was once greeted with rapturous applause, was a sobering reminder of how far the mood has shifted. Behind closed doors, Zelensky met with a handful of lawmakers, his reception far more muted than the standing-room-only gatherings that once accompanied his appearances. The enthusiasm that had once characterised the West’s commitment to Ukraine has given way to a more cautious, reserved stance.
In an article published by The New York Times, it was reported that Zelensky’s reception on Capitol Hill was a far cry from the hero’s welcome he had received less than two years earlier.
"His reception on Thursday was far more muted, as a few dozen lawmakers huddled with him behind closed doors while the speaker of the House snubbed him," the article stated.
The shift in tone was palpable. Lawmakers who once rushed to express their support for Ukraine now seemed hesitant, their enthusiasm dampened by the realities of a drawn-out conflict that has no clear end in sight. Even within this private setting, the undercurrent of doubt was evident. The war, after all, has dragged on longer than anyone in the West expected, and Ukraine’s Western backers are beginning to tire.
At the heart of this weariness is a stark question: Did the West truly understand the magnitude of the commitment it made to Ukraine? And, more crucially, is the West still prepared to see that commitment through to the end?
The Decline of Western Resolve
From the beginning of the war, Ukraine was clear about its aims. Zelensky and his government repeatedly stated that they would not settle for anything less than the full restoration of Ukrainian sovereignty over all its territories, including Crimea. The West, initially at least, seemed to align with this vision. Politicians and media outlets alike echoed Zelensky’s demands, framing the conflict as a fight for democracy itself, one that must be won at all costs. In the early months of the invasion, the momentum was palpable. Western leaders seemed eager to provide whatever Ukraine needed, from advanced weaponry to financial assistance, to defeat the Russian aggressor.
But as the war has dragged on, that momentum has slowed. Despite repeated requests from Kyiv, the West has been reluctant to provide Ukraine with certain critical weapons systems, including long-range missiles that could strike targets deep within Russian territory. These systems, Ukraine argues, are essential to tipping the balance of the war in its favour. But the West, particularly the United States, has been hesitant, fearing that such actions could provoke a dangerous escalation with Moscow. While billions of dollars in military aid have flowed into Ukraine, the delays and restrictions on what is provided reveal the limits of the West’s resolve.
As The New York Times noted, “Ukraine is working its way through a nearly $61 billion military aid package that Congress approved in the spring.” Yet this figure, while staggering, must be viewed in context. The war has already cost Ukraine an estimated $600 billion in damages, and it continues to hemorrhage both money and manpower at an unsustainable rate. Zelensky’s most recent appeal for longer-range missiles and faster delivery of weapons was met with sympathy but not the commitment Ukraine desperately needs. The piece captured the tension, quoting Senator John Cornyn of Texas, who acknowledged the extraordinary courage of the Ukrainian people but stopped short of endorsing any additional military aid:
“I think he’s an admirable person, obviously showed a lot of courage and leadership in very, very difficult times... But the will of the Ukrainian people alone won’t be enough to win this war.”
This hesitancy reflects a broader trend in Western capitals. While leaders continue to express rhetorical support for Ukraine, their actions increasingly suggest that their appetite for an indefinite commitment is waning. European countries, grappling with rising energy prices and the looming threat of recession, are less willing to pledge the kind of financial and military assistance they once did. In Washington, where domestic politics loom large, the question of Ukraine has become entangled in a partisan battle, with some Republicans openly questioning the wisdom of further aid packages. As The New York Times reported, Speaker of the House Mike Johnson recently criticised Ukraine’s ambassador for organising a politically charged event in Scranton, Pennsylvania, that "failed to include a single Republican." This move, along with accusations from other Republican lawmakers that Zelensky’s government is showing favouritism to Democrats, highlights the growing divide in the U.S. over continued support for Ukraine.
The Weight of Broken Promises
But perhaps the most painful aspect of this situation for Ukraine is the realisation that the very promises that once fuelled its resistance may have been little more than inflated rhetoric. In the early days of the invasion, the West encouraged Ukraine to reject compromises, including the Istanbul deal and the earlier Minsk agreements, both of which had offered potential ceasefires and peace settlements. At the time, Western leaders argued that such deals would only reward Russian aggression and that Ukraine should hold out for full victory. Zelensky, buoyed by the seemingly unshakable support of his allies, embraced this approach, rejecting any talk of compromise.
Yet now, as the war drags on with no end in sight, it is clear that those promises were far more conditional than Kyiv had been led to believe. The Economist, a publication that had once championed Ukraine’s defiance of Russia, recently published a brutal appraisal of the current situation, stating bluntly,
“As much as Zelensky wants to drive Russia from all Ukraine, including Crimea, he does not have the men or arms to do it.” The Economist.
The same magazine that once extolled the virtues of a total Ukrainian victory is now calling for a reassessment, urging Kyiv to focus on more limited war aims. But if these expectations were unrealistic, as The Economist now suggests, why did the West encourage Ukraine to reject earlier peace deals in the first place?
The truth is that Ukraine’s decision to reject those agreements was not made in isolation. It was driven, in part, by the belief that the West would stand by Ukraine until the end, no matter the cost. But as winter approaches, and with it the prospect of another brutal season of energy shortages and unheated apartments, Ukraine is left to wonder whether the West is truly prepared to honour those promises.
The blame game between Ukraine and the West has already begun, though it remains largely unspoken. As the situation on the frontlines grows more dire by the day, and as ordinary Ukrainians prepare for a winter of hardship, the question of responsibility hangs heavy in the air. Who is to blame for the position Ukraine now finds itself in? Kyiv has fought valiantly, with a determination and resilience that have inspired much of the world. But it has done so based on the belief that the West would stand by its side, not just in words but in action. Now, as the war drags on and the enthusiasm for Ukraine’s cause wanes, it is fair to ask whether the West has truly lived up to its promises.
A Moral Failure
Ultimately, the story of Ukraine’s war is not just a story of heroism on the battlefield. It is also a story of the fragility of promises. The West, in its rush to declare its solidarity with Ukraine, may have made commitments that it was never fully prepared to keep. As the war has dragged on, it has become clear that Western leaders were far more willing to express rhetorical support than to make the kind of long-term commitments that Ukraine’s fight demands. The moral failure here is not just one of broken promises, but of inflated expectations. Ukraine, encouraged by its Western allies, believed that it could achieve a full military victory over Russia. Now, with the situation on the battlefield deteriorating and the prospect of a brutal winter looming, it is clear that this victory may never come.
In an article for The Economist, a particularly brutal line stands out:
“Western leaders need to make his overriding war aim credible by ensuring that Ukraine has the military capacity and security guarantees it needs.”
It is as though the West is now acknowledging what many in Kyiv have long feared—that the promises of unwavering support were always conditional, always dependent on the shifting priorities of Western capitals. And as those priorities change, Ukraine is left to bear the brunt of a war that shows no signs of ending.
For Zelensky and the people of Ukraine, the realisation that the West may not be as steadfast as once believed is a bitter pill to swallow. The promises that once buoyed their resistance now seem hollow, and the war itself, which began as a fight for democracy and freedom, is increasingly defined by the limits of Western resolve. In the end, the question that Ukraine must grapple with is not just whether it can win the war, but whether it can continue to fight without the level of support it once believed was guaranteed.
As the winter approaches and the situation on the ground grows more desperate, the fragility of these promises will become even more apparent. The West, having encouraged Ukraine to reject compromises and to hold out for a total victory, must now confront the uncomfortable truth that it may not be willing or able to deliver the support that Ukraine needs to achieve that goal. This is not just a strategic failure, but a moral one. It threatens not only Ukraine’s fight for survival but the very credibility of the international order that the West claims to uphold.