One of the world's three nuclear superpowers ruthlessly invaded neighboring Ukraine in violation of international law, has murdered thousands of noncombatants, raped and pillaged its way through a third of the country, threatened the use of its most deadly weapon, taunted and tormented NATO, cut energy supplies to Europe, and is now attempting to freeze into submission the children, women and men of the much smaller, invaded nation. And yet the world is yawning.
Less than one year into the Russia-Ukraine war — the largest European ground war since 1945 and a conflict that could easily billow into WW III — television sets in warm living rooms no longer flash news at the top of the hour from the threefold fronts, and most newspaper coverage has slipped from page one. Because the citizens of the world no longer much care. They have tired of seeing the incalculable carnage in Ukraine; it's old news, same stories, nothing's changed. So it's tuned out.
This post is not an example of what's called "virtue-signaling." Its writer is far from being a humanitarian activist, and he is not attempting to demonstrate any sense of superior morality. He couldn't if he tried. Rather, this realpolitik post is meant to convey mammoth aggravation at a world that has turned its eyes in "Ukraine fatigue" from what haunts the entire world: authoritarian aggression, unmet by the globe's lasting fury.
Or even particular concern, even though nuclear-tipped Russian tentacles with a stranglehold on Ukraine could soon grip more of Europe, potentially exploding into a continental fireball, or encouraging a certain Asian autocracy to do evil in its backyard. The world's democracies are under assault by a stalking, authoritarian monster that could forge the 21st century into a more fascisitically successful mid-20th century. And yet the world is yawning.
Today, in a kind of national Warsaw Ghetto, millions of Ukrainians awoke to subfreezing temperatures, from the Donbas to Kyiv to the extreme southwest. In its ninth-largest aerial attack, Russia launched 98 missiles — only 60 were shot down — at Ukrainian energy services yesterday. In the industrial, central city of Kremenchuk, population 200,000, heat was out for everyone as the temperature sank to -10 Celcius. In Kirovohrad, 83 miles from Kremenchuk, about one million people had no electricity. Two-thirds of Kyiv residents had no heat, no water, and 60% had no electricity; residents "huddled in stairwells and under overpasses as air raid sirens wailed." (NYT.) Also hit were Kharkiv and Odesa.
This has been the cost of Ukraine's battlefield victories. As Vladimir Putin's forces collapsed on the ground, he took to the skies, raining down hell on noncombatants, on women and children. His strategy could affect Ukraine's military capabilities. Said the country's top commander, General Valeriy Zaluzhnyi, in an interview with The Economist: "We are balancing on a fine line ... when soldiers’ wives and children start freezing. What kind of mood the fighters will be in, can you imagine? Without water, light and heat, can we talk about preparing reserves to keep fighting?"
Said a citizen of Kyiv, "See how we live. We are fed up! We need to hit back at Russia. Give us weapons. We have enough soldiers — give us weapons." Such has long been the cri de couer from top to bottom, from the president's office to citizens huddled in stairwells: Give us more weapons, every kind of weapon, a surfeit of weapons to drive the invaders back to their motherland. Nearly a year into the war, Ukraine is still asking a contemplating, divided world for more armaments — a world that can't see the global threat down the road. Instead, the world yawns.
Reported EuroNews in late August: "At the end of February, as Russian forces poured into Ukraine, so did the international news media. For weeks after the invasion, millions of people around the globe watched events unfold, hosted live and direct from Kyiv or Lviv by the familiar news anchors....
"But then things changed. [From elections to natural disasters, other news averted eyes.] It knocked the war in Ukraine off the front pages of newspapers, relegated the video to a later time slot in the news bulletin, or consigned the text further down your digital news source. That's how Ukraine war coverage fatigue sets in: by attrition and by necessity, rather than by design."
By attrition, yes; by necessity, no; by design, in a way. The attrition is manifest and on the record, above. Attrition by design comes from the human condition; weariness toward a story proximally unaffecting to the viewer or reader. But neither is driven by absolute necessity. The world can reawaken to Vladimir Putin's butchery in Ukraine, his inhumanity of paralyzing and killing civilians in subfreezing temperatures, and it can reawaken to the continental threat that he poses, a threat that could extend to a fellow authoritarian in Asia — both of which could ignite another world war.
In short, the civilized, free world must wake up and get mad. It must demand that its leaders provision Ukraine with what it requests militarily, every bit of it. So that the madness is stopped there, and soon. Then my, and your — since you're reading a Ukraine story — aggravation at an apathetic world can cease. The much bigger payoff is that we'll all be much safer.