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Déjà Vu: The Lessons of History and Russia’s Ongoing Aggression

Since the collapse of the Soviet Union at the end of the 20th century, many of its former entities have struggled through immense challenges—economic crises that pushed them to the brink of starvation, civil wars, and revolutions. In nearly every case, one force has loomed behind these hardships: “Great Russia.” The consistency in Moscow’s strategies—whether through hybrid warfare, proxy conflicts, or direct military interventions—has become increasingly evident. With blatant disregard for international law, Russia has methodically attempted to prevent Georgia, Ukraine, Moldova, and other nations from developing as independent democracies. And for decades, it has faced little to no accountability.

The echoes of history are deafening. Today’s events in Eastern Europe bear unsettling similarities to those of the 1930s, when Adolf Hitler orchestrated the annexation of Austria and dismantled Czechoslovakia under the pretense of protecting ethnic Germans. The pattern is strikingly familiar to Russia’s aggression toward its neighbors.

The Anschluss of Austria: A Precedent for Modern Aggression

In March 1938, Hitler demanded the resignation of Austria’s Chancellor, who capitulated under pressure. The very next day, Hitler led German troops into Austria, installing a Nazi government and formally annexing the country in what became known as the Anschluss. While the international community, including the United States, France, the United Kingdom, and the Soviet Union, expressed outrage, it prioritised diplomatic caution over direct confrontation. Only Mexico refused to recognise the annexation. Austria ceased to exist as an independent state and was rebranded Ostmark, entirely subordinated to Nazi Germany—just as Belarus now serves as a de facto extension of Russia.

The language used by Hitler to justify his actions in Austria was eerily similar to Putin’s rhetoric about Ukraine. Hitler argued that Austria, as part of the German-speaking world, should be united with Germany, just as Putin claims that Ukraine’s Russian-speaking population “needs” to reunite with Russia. In both cases, the justification for invasion was framed as an effort to protect and unite the “oppressed” people of a neighboring nation.

Czechoslovakia and the Price of Appeasement

Following Austria’s annexation, Hitler set his sights on Czechoslovakia. By the late 1930s, Czechoslovakia was one of the most advanced parliamentary republics in Eastern Europe. The country’s population included Czechs, Slovaks, Hungarians, Ruthenians, Poles, and a significant German minority concentrated in the Sudetenland. Hitler used the plight of Sudeten Germans as a pretext for intervention, much like Vladimir Putin has done with claims of defending Russian-speaking populations in Ukraine, Georgia, and Moldova.

Germany had been laying the groundwork for this for years, just as Russia did after the Soviet collapse by nurturing separatist movements across its former empire. By 1938, European leaders anticipated Hitler’s moves, yet sought ways to avoid direct involvement. A 22 March 1938, article in The Times of London suggested that defending Czechoslovakia’s sovereignty over the Sudeten Germans would infringe upon their right to self-determination—eerily echoing justifications used in modern Russian propaganda. In April of that year, Le Temps, a French newspaper, published a legal analysis questioning whether France was indeed obligated to defend Czechoslovakia under their 1924 alliance treaty.

As Hitler escalated his demands, the response from European powers mirrored what we’ve seen in modern diplomatic negotiations with Russia: symbolic condemnation, but no decisive action. On 29 September 1938, the infamous Munich Conference took place. British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, along with French and Italian leaders, conceded to Hitler’s demands, allowing German forces to occupy the Sudetenland. The Czechoslovak government was not even invited to the negotiations deciding its fate. Chamberlain famously declared that this agreement would bring “peace for our time.” Winston Churchill, however, saw through the illusion, warning Chamberlain: “You were given the choice between war and dishonor. You chose dishonor, and you will have war.”

Predictably, Hitler did not stop at the Sudetenland. By March 1939, Germany occupied all of Czechoslovakia. Within six months, the Nazis invaded Poland, launching World War II. Less than two years after the Munich Agreement, German troops had marched into Paris and begun bombing Britain.

Lesson Ignored: Russia’s Wars in Georgia and Ukraine

Could history have taken a different course? Perhaps. But one thing is certain: if the world had responded more forcefully to Russia’s war against Georgia in 2008—applying even half the sanctions seen today—we might have prevented the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. And if European states had recognised Russia’s intentions earlier and reduced their dependency on Russian energy, today they would be in a stronger position to counter Russian war crimes without facing conflicts of interest—where, on one hand, they supply Ukraine with weapons, yet on the other, they finance Russia’s war machine through energy payments.

Let us hope that the 21st-century world will handle “Russism” more decisively than its predecessors handled German Nazism—before it claims as many lives as the horrors of the 20th century.

January 2025

Téa Parulava

Téa is a Georgian journalist, editor, communications expert and blogger with extensive experience in media, cultural reporting, and international relations. Based in Vienna, she works as a correspondent for Georgian media, covering cultural and political developments in Austria, Central, and Eastern Europe. www.euroambebi.eu