Primal instincts: The true nature of global politics

No matter how the Russia-Ukraine war ends, the 21st-century world is poised for significant changes, particularly in our understanding of global dynamics. In my view, a major consequence of this war will be the end of global political idealism and the decline in the belief in universal utopian ideals.

Humans, as spiritual beings, inherently need some degree of idealism. Religions and quasi-religious beliefs thrive because they offer visions, thoughts and solutions that transcend everyday secular life, providing hope for the future. These promises and aspirations have served as a spiritual foundation, supporting generations of human struggle despite the setbacks and frustrations encountered in reality.

Due to the shared human condition, these solutions often possess a universality that transcends communities and nations, aiming to address the common existential dilemmas and spiritual uncertainties faced by humanity.

In addition to ancient world religions, non-religious yet universal visions like Immanuel Kant’s theory of perpetual peace and Francis Fukuyama’s “end of history” thesis also envision an ideal world, characterised by optimism and an assumption of an unchanging human condition, whether through perpetual peace or global acceptance of the Anglo-American liberal order. Conversely, the liberal school of thought in international relations offers a more restrained optimism, proposing that democracies are unlikely to engage in war with one another.

However, in reality, this idealism has been repeatedly proven wrong. After World War I, the Chinese quickly awakened from the optimism of “truth triumphing over might”, realising that the international order was still based on the manipulation and transactions of power.

During the war of resistance against Japan, a major Chinese academic school of thought known as the “Warring States Strategy school” no longer made moral distinctions between the Allies and the Axis powers, believing that the world had returned to “wars devoid of righteousness” reminiscent of the Spring and Autumn periods and the Warring States periods. China must uphold its core national interests, securing both its survival and the path to rejuvenation.

Today, regardless of how the Russia-Ukraine war is resolved, the vulnerability of small countries in the face of great powers is evident to all; even “democratic countries” could also fall into significant conflicts due to security reasons, geopolitical relationships and territorial disputes.

The “end of history” thesis faces a question similar to that of “what happens after Nora leaves home” (a reference to Henrik Ibsen’s play A Doll’s House, where Nora Helmer exits by slamming the door on her family): What follows democratisation?

The “Tianxia theory” proposed by contemporary Chinese thinkers is lacking in execution. Meanwhile, the United Nations (UN) mechanism faces challenges, as it becomes ineffective when Security Council member states are parties to a conflict.

What solutions can the historically rooted yet largely theoretical “Tianxia system” offer in the pursuit of international justice? Can it present a compelling theory to persuade parties lacking a relevant cultural background?

Therefore, in a post-Ukraine war world, it will be evident to countries that no solution is permanent, utopias do not exist, and nothing has truly ended or can end.

Secondly, the international consensus on nuclear non-proliferation and related agreements will face increased scrutiny and potential weakening.

Despite significant progress since World War II in establishing mechanisms for lasting peace and rational coexistence, humanity has avoided the feared World War III largely due to the nuclear balance of power among major powers, grounded in the principle of “mutual assured destruction”, rather than any lofty rhetoric.

In fact, US President Richard Nixon’s 1967 article advocating engagement with China, arguing that the US should normalise its relations with the country, came just a few years after China successfully detonated its first atomic bomb in 1964. In other words, if there was no atomic bomb, China would not have been invited to the table.

Perhaps by a stroke of fate, the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons — which was opened for signature on 1 July 1968 and entered into force on 5 March 1970 — emerged after China’s nuclear test, effectively granting China legitimate nuclear status as a fait accompli.

However, the struggles faced by several smaller and disadvantaged nations in recent years, particularly Ukraine’s experience of invasion and nuclear threats after giving up its nuclear weapons in exchange for supposed security guarantees, have critically undermined the nuclear non-proliferation movement. Some countries in conflict or insecure situations have already withdrawn from the treaty or never joined, while others may now conclude that nuclear weapons are the only true guarantee of their security.

The post-World War II practice of a few “responsible” nations monopolising nuclear weapons while urging the peaceful use of nuclear energy is similarly becoming a “spiritual utopia”. So-called “security guarantees” have become empty promises, with aid expected to be repaid.

In this context, I believe that when discussing the global outlook after the Russia-Ukraine war, non-nuclear weapon states demanding nuclear weapons — or the pursuit of “nuclear democracy” — will be an unavoidable topic.

Thirdly, researchers and observers of international affairs will increasingly emphasise the role of leaders. I contend that current events aren’t predetermined, as individual leaders play a significant role in shaping outcomes.

This brings us back to the classic debate in historical and political studies about the interplay between “structural” and “contingent” (individual) factors. Despite inherent imperial expansionist tendencies and structural conflicts in both the US and Russia, whether Joe Biden or Donald Trump is the current US president makes a substantial difference.

During last year’s elections, I had already argued that Ukraine’s fate would be difficult to predict if Trump took office. Similarly, if Russia’s leader was not Putin, with his strong fixations on security, territory and Russian irredentism; or if Ukraine’s leader was not Volodymyr Zelenskyy, with his commitment to fight to the bitter end, the situation could have been entirely different.

With age and prolonged study in the humanities, one inevitably recognises the deterministic weight of free will and chance — an implicit critique of “scientistic” utopianism.

Lastly, I believe that the world after the Russia-Ukraine war will be more realistic, self-serving and ruthless, stripped of any utopian idealism. This may serve as a reminder that, at the end of the day, humans are animals — albeit upright ones, capable of reflection and possessing complex inner lives — or, from a historical materialism perspective, advanced animals capable of “making tools”. Yet humans remain bound by the fundamental law of the jungle: survival of the fittest and the struggle for territory, which is essentially what “imperial expansion” entails.

This article was first published in Lianhe Zaobao as “后俄乌战争世界的几个可能趋势”.

Related: A shared humiliation? How the Chinese see themselves in Ukraine | The illusion of security: Why Ukraine matters to us all