Many people have commented on French President Emmanuel Macron’s surprising statement a few weeks ago that he would not rule out sending troops to help Ukraine—me included. Much of this commentary has focused on why Macron, who had embraced dialogue with Russia at the outset of the war, had turned Uber-hawk in recent months.
After all, this was the European leader who spent hours on the phone with Vladimir Putin even after the invasion had started, said Russia should not be “humiliated,” and even called for extending “security guarantees” to Moscow—a demand Putin has made repeatedly, including just this week.
But let’s take Macron at his word. What he’s trying to do, he explained on French TV Thursday, is restoring a degree of “strategic ambiguity” regarding how the West can and will respond to Russia.
If, faced with someone who has no limits, faced with someone who crossed every limit that he had given us, we tell him naïvely that we won’t go any further than this or that — at that moment, we are not deciding peace, we are already deciding defeat.
If Russia wins this war, Europe’s credibility will be reduced to zero. Do you think that the Poles, the Lithuanians, the Estonians, the Romanians, the Bulgarians could stay in peace even for a second?
Macron is right on both counts. Russia cannot be allowed to win the war—for Russia’s victory means defeat not only for Ukraine but for every other country in Europe and NATO.
He’s also right when he notes that Ukraine’s partners in NATO—France, included—have long placed limits on how to respond to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. They did so all the way back in 2014, when Russia annexed Crimea and invaded the Donbas. The United States and others almost immediately ruled out sending US or NATO troops to help Ukraine. Indeed, President Obama, Chancellor Merkel, and President Sarkozy even opposed sending defensive lethal aid, like anti-tank Javelin missiles, to help Ukraine defend itself. Their focus, instead, was on sanctioning Russia and, for the two European leaders, to find a negotiated end to the fighting.
Some of these limits were reiterated in the run-up to Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine eight years later. Biden made clear that he would not send US troops to help defend Ukraine, and along with Britain and others pulled out the service personnel helping to train Ukrainian forces in the days immediately prior to Russia’s invasion. While they would support Ukraine in its efforts to defend itself, including by sending arms and providing intelligence, Biden and other NATO leaders also made clear that they did not want to see the war escalate: “we will not fight the third world war in Ukraine.” That threat, they insisted, would be reserved to deter attack on any NATO member—but would not be extended to a non-NATO country. So, even as Biden ruled out troops for Ukraine, he committed to defend “every inch of NATO territory.”
Much of this argument rested on the assumption, shared by many at the outset of the invasion, that this would not be a long, dragged-out war of attrition. Russia was expected to win quickly, and the focus early on was on providing Ukraine with the capacity to resist and conduct a long counterinsurgency campaign that might ultimately force Russian forces to withdraw. The importance of maintaining some sense of ambiguity as a means of deterrence was therefore given short shrift.
Two years later, the assumption of a short war has proven profoundly misplaced. For more than a year, this has been a war of attrition—bloody and intense, but without much territory changing hands. In fact, in all of 2023, no more than 500 square miles (or about 0.2%) of Ukrainian territory moved hands. But with growing uncertainty about western—and especially US—military assistance to Ukraine, the possibility that this might change and Russia starts making real gains is growing every day. Thinking through what other steps Western countries can now take therefore makes a lot of sense.
Macron’s decision not only to raise the question of troops being deployed to assist Ukraine directly but to persist in making the point despite opposition from Germany, the United States, and other countries needs to be seen in that light. Part of the reason, as French officials have argued, is to infuse some degree of strategic ambiguity into the equation—to emphasize to Russia that they risk a wider confrontation that no one, including Moscow, would want. “We are not in the same situation as two years ago,” French Defense Minister Sebastien Lecornu explained.
Given where we are, and given the stakes of the conflict, rethinking our assumptions is a good thing. In fact, that’s been happening all along—we’ve moved from sending shoulder-launched anti-tank weapons to multiple-rocket launchers, long-range air defense systems, tanks and armored vehicles, long-range missiles, and soon combat planes. Thinking about whether—and how—troops could be thrown into that mix would be the logical next step.
When it comes to troops, there is a whole range of possibilities—including many well short of combat troops directly engaged in combat with Russian forces. Western embassies in Kyiv, for example, already have active duty military attachés. A next step would be to send advisors to high levels in the command, operating far away from the battlefield. Troops, whether in uniform or not, could be sent to train Ukrainian forces in certain speciality functions and to provide forward logistical support, including repairing sophisticated equipment and systems. Helping demining efforts, both on land and at sea, would involve greater risk, as would assisting in air defense operations, even those short of pulling the trigger. All these functions fall short of direct engagement in combat with Russian forces, which appears to be a line even France is not prepared to breach—at least not yet.
To date, few NATO leaders have wanted to think seriously about these possibilities. Many fear Russia’s reaction—a fear that Putin and his aides have been all too willing to exploit. No sooner had Macron raised the possibility of sending troops to Ukraine or Putin was once again brandishing his nuclear arsenal. “This is very dangerous because it could actually trigger the use of nuclear weapons,” Putin said in response. “Do they not understand that?”
Of course, they do. “We are ready,” Macron said in response, reminding everyone France, too, was a nuclear power. The Kremlin’s frequent nuclear threats were inappropriate, he added. Having nuclear weapons “imposes on us the responsibility never to escalate.” The United States also takes the issue seriously. This week, reports in the New York Times and CNN recounted how Washington had clearly communicated to Moscow that the use of even a single tactical nuclear weapon in Ukraine, as intelligence indicated Russia was considering in late 2022, would lead to an overwhelming response.
Russia’s invasion of Ukraine represents a fundamental challenge to the international order and European security so painstakingly built up since the end of World War II. It must not succeed. On that, all NATO allies agree. That they have differences on how to make sure Russia fails is understandable. These reflect different histories, different geographies, and different capabilities. But on the essential goal itself, there is no difference.
When it comes to the most effective strategy to bring that about, it makes sense to reexamine assumptions—including the self-imposed limit on sending troops to Ukraine. The best way to do that is behind close doors, building consensus through persuasion and diplomacy, rather than exposing the differences out in the open. That makes getting agreement more difficult. But the goal now should be to get to an agreement on how best to support Ukraine as soon as possible.