---

When President George W. Bush gave his “mission accomplished” speech on board the aircraft carrier USS Abraham Lincoln only six weeks into the Iraq War in 2003, it quickly became a cautionary tale against declaring victory in an unpredictable war. Washington didn’t withdraw most of its forces until eight years later, and the pullout resembled defeat much more than victory.

Twenty years later in Ukraine, the risk is not declaring victory prematurely—but not defining victory at all.

For more than a year now, Ukraine’s Western supporters have provided it with the weapons, munitions, funds, and political support to push back Russian invading forces. With this help, Ukraine has been able to regain about half the territory Russia has occupied since Feb. 24, 2022. It is a remarkable and undeniable success.

But Ukraine’s supporters have shied away from defining the outcome they aim to achieve with their aid. Is it for Ukraine to liberate its entire territory, including Crimea, by military force? Is it to push Russia back to the line that existed before Feb. 24, 2022, restoring a status quo ante that leaves Russia in control of Crimea and the Donbas? Is it to enable another Ukrainian push on the battlefield, followed by a cease-fire and negotiations that somehow—though it is unclear how—induce Russia to withdraw from Ukraine?

Western ambiguity—leaving open what victory means—made sense in the early phase of the war. With a wide range of possible outcomes, ambiguity allowed for a flexible framing of victory and defeat: Even if Russia were successful on the battlefield, its success could still be framed as an overall strategic defeat that isolates it in the eyes of the world. Ambiguity was also a useful way to avoid telegraphing any limitations of Western support to Moscow or demoralizing Ukrainian forces with unattainable goals or timelines. Hence the frequent Western talking point of supporting Kyiv with whatever it takes for as long as it takes—which sounds forceful enough, until you ask what “it” is.

In the second year, the situation is much less uncertain. Although Ukraine is still targeted by Russian missiles and frontline battles remain unimaginably brutal, the potential trajectories of this war have narrowed. Kyiv will not fall, and Ukraine will not be overrun by the Russian army. Ukraine is also unlikely to lose the territory it has already liberated, as Russia’s unsuccessful winter offensive made clear. But even if there is greater clarity about battlefield contingencies, there is still no strategic clarity about what victory means.

Western publics are getting contradictory signals from their leaders on this question. Most often, Western officials say it is up to the Ukrainians to define what victory means. In reality, however, the most important factor for achieving victory is the type, quantity, and arrival date of Western weapons and munitions in Ukraine, which gives the West a major influence on the outcome. And whenever Ukraine brings up its own definition of victory—a return to Ukraine’s lawful 1991 borders, including Crimea, by force, if necessary—many Western leaders (apart from Central and Eastern Europeans) refuse to wholly commit to this outcome, presumably out of concern that a fight over Crimea, which Russia illegally annexed in 2014, could lead Moscow to escalate in some unpredictable way.

This creates a dangerous political vacuum in the midst of a war that has been, to a great extent, fought by narratives. If Ukraine’s supporters fail to benchmark victory, Russia will. If the West focuses on its own fears of escalation, the Kremlin will fan those fears with renewed threats of nuclear war. Not defining victory—and, in turn, not defining Russian defeat—allows Russia to negate Ukraine’s successes and to frame a Ukrainian victory as unattainable. Without a clear aim, Western publics will increasingly perceive the war as a protracted, indeterminate struggle, ultimately undermining Ukraine’s moral high ground and the West’s own morale. Ukraine and the West therefore need to provide a benchmark for victory in this stage of the war. 

Western leaders should state publicly that their aim for this spring and summer is a return at least to the lines before 2022.

Continued Western ambiguity also contributes to a polarized debate between advocates for quick negotiations and those who support a full military victory for Ukraine. The sobering reality is that neither of these—early negotiations or complete liberation—is the most probable scenario. Negotiations would very likely lead to a temporary cease-fire instead of a sustainable peace, pausing a war that Russian President Vladimir Putin can resume at any time. He has committed to subjugating Ukraine as his life’s legacy. He has enshrined into law the annexation of four regions of Ukraine. It is folly to believe that Putin will let Ukraine be. He may not have started this war primarily for domestic power purposes, but keeping Russia in a constant war-like, half-mobilized state has turned into his best chance to stay in power. Reassured by Chinese President Xi Jinping that China supports his regime and fight against the West, Putin does not need an off-ramp or exit strategy.

At the same time, the West’s willingness and ability to continue providing the current massive flow of military support to Ukraine is not indefinite. Right now, Western countries are arming Ukraine to bring it into the best possible position for a spring and summer offensive. After that, contentious negotiations in the U.S. Congress over future support for Ukraine and a U.S. presidential primary season await. Meanwhile, Europe could face another winter with high energy prices. Support for Ukraine will not stop, but the peak of Western weapons deliveries may have been reached. That means 2023 is Ukraine’s best chance to get as far as it can. But even under these favorable circumstances, a full military victory—meaning the liberation of all of Ukraine’s territory—is a tall order for this year. More likely, and perhaps the best-case scenario, is a successful breakup of the land bridge between Russia and Crimea, isolating Russian forces in the south and making their position there untenable.

To right-size both overly optimistic and overly pessimistic expectations, Ukraine and the West should benchmark an interim victory that is realistic to achieve this year. Instead of giving ambiguous answers to the question of what victory means, Western leaders should state publicly that their aim for this spring and summer is a return at least to the lines before 2022 and that they will supply Ukraine with everything needed to reach this objective. While the overall goal remains restoring Ukraine’s full territorial integrity, setting a clear benchmark for an interim victory would provide an anchor point for Western publics in the strategic communication of this war. It fills the discursive vacuum with a specific goal that Western publics can support and counters Russia’s strategy of framing Ukrainian victory as unattainable.

In NATO parlance, this interim victory should be the floor, not the ceiling. If Ukraine can advance even further, that would be a huge and welcome success. If not, the pre-2022 lines are an important preliminary milestone. It would turn back the clock to Feb. 23, 2022, and apply the weapon of futility against Russia itself. With a restoration of the status quo ante, Russian sacrifices since the start of the war would appear entirely in vain. The total loss of all territories gained at such a heavy cost may plant the seeds of doubt in the minds of Russia’s soldiers, public, and elites: What was this war for if we are now back to where we started? In many unsuccessful wars of the past—including Russia’s in Afghanistan and the United States’ in Iraq—a pervasive and demoralizing sense of futility turned into a powerful enemy at home and on the battlefield. The constant dripping of doubt can wear away any great power.

Of course, a return to the pre-2022 lines is a less satisfactory outcome for Ukraine and its supporters than Russia’s full military defeat or negotiated withdrawal. However, it is a useful, realistic, and clear-to-communicate benchmark. Defining an interim victory this way will help bolster public support in the West and undermine Putin’s objectives at home. It will not be possible to say “mission accomplished” with this outcome. But an interim victory is better than not defining any victory at all.

Liana Fix is a Europe fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations, a former program director for European security at the Körber Foundation, and a former fellow at the German Marshall Fund. 

This article was originally published on Foreign Policy.
Views in this article are author’s own and do not necessarily reflect CGS policy.