Posted: 7th April 2025
How politics, the media and science are fuelling an arms logic based on Ukraine – and why we need to rethink disarmament.
Peter Sloterdijk has described modern societies as communities of worry and excitement, which are dependent on maintaining a permanent common unrest for self-conservation. “The nation is a daily plebiscite, not about the Constitution, but about the priority of concerns.” Indeed, the public is in a more or less ongoing state of excitement: climate change, natural disasters, terrorism, the Middle East conflict, energy supply or the pandemic are part of a pronounced crisis perception and are sometimes even perceived as elements of a single “poly crisis”. Russia’s war against Ukraine not only keeps the people of Germany and Europe in suspense, but also puts them in alarm and apparently increasingly in hysteria.
Two threat narratives are currently at the heart of the security policy debate. The first narrative assumes that Russia could next attack other countries in Eastern Europe or even NATO states after the attack on Ukraine. The second, younger narrative assumes that in this case Europe would be without the protection of the USA, because America under Donald Trump could say goodbye to its NATO commitments. The crises of European security and the transatlantic partnership appear to legitimise radical measures. A dozen political scientists, from the liberal to the conservative camp, recently called on the parties of the old and the new federal government to reach rapid agreement, from the liberal to the conservative camp, in rare unity and with a dramatic appeal, to reach rapid agreement to potentially reached suit. The question of the defence capability of Germany and Europe, according to the argument, may “have a price tag”.
Thinking dominates in worst-case scenarios, which reinforces the front position and obviously allows no other thought than that of the massive rearmament.
In times of crisis, decisessionism is obviously in demand. But neither an attack by Russia on NATO nor a permanent departure from the USA from Europe are identified or even only foreseeable. A sound scientific and political analysis of both scenarios is still lacking, as well as an open debate about what exactly and with which means would be reacted at all. Instead, thinking dominates in worst-case scenarios, which reinforces front positions and apparently does not allow any other thought than that of massive rearmament. The resulting hysteria can be explained by three interlocking logics.
The first logic concerns the role of scientific expertise. Scientists publicly call for more arms efforts and urge politicians not to waste time. They design threat scenarios and make assumptions about Russian politics, often without deeper regional expertise. Her word has weight, not least because of its long-term media presence and its staging as “experts”. Political science, which sees itself as a “problem-oriented” discipline, has a structural interest in problems: because with the size of the problem, its own significance also grows. In the logic of mass media attention, the question of scientific relevance or actual research achievement no longer plays a role. The core feature of scientific work, namely the obligation to prove its assessments, usually falls by the wayside.
The second logic concerns the media representation of political reality. She thrives on dramatization and the sharpening to supposed decision-making speakers. Under the pressure of speed, with which new media spread news – or even rare rumors – established media tend to overwhelm the dramatization instead of weighing up. Counterarguments or alternative perspectives speak less and less, complex relationships are no longer explained. A central symptom of this trend is the mixing of messages and comments – across radio and daily newspapers. It is precisely this bluractive that makes it difficult for the public to develop a separate assessment.
The third logic takes place in the political field: governments and EU institutions are under pressure from public opinion and opposition, which are constantly fuelling the crisis narrative. This creates constriction – but at the same time opens up scope for long-establishable political projects, such as the harmonisation of the European defence industry. Far-reaching decisions are legitimised with the reference to historical upheavals and a turning point. The focus is on the horrors of war than on the historic drama: Ukraine is fighting for the freedom and security of the whole of Europe, according to the popular narrative. EU Commission President Ursula von der Leyen, for example, declared that the Ukrainian people hold “the torch of freedom upright for all of us”. In this way, political questions are exaggerated on the question of existence – the fate of the whole of Europe is at stake.
The durable hysteria has potentially high costs. The classification of wars and violent events and the assessment of their consequences have always been difficult endeavors. Already in the East-West conflict, the USA assessed the wars in Korea and Vietnam according to a fatal maxim: those who show weakness towards the Soviets are demanding further aggression. It was necessary to demonstrate strength and determination, which resulted in excessive violence and millions of deaths. On the occasion of 9/11, too, a new “age of terrorism” was proclaimed – more than questionable labelling from today’s perspective. It remains to be said that a turning point for large parts of the world did not take place in 2022. Neither in sub-Saharan Africa nor in India, Latin America or Southeast Asia are likely to have changed the political framework. Probably for many of these regions, the abolition of USAID was more important than Russia’s war against Ukraine.
The conflict is stylized as a struggle for existence between liberal democracies and belligerent autocracies, between good and evil.
The geopolitical interpretation of the Russian war against Ukraine ultimately results in an exaggeration: it stylizes the conflict into a Manichaean struggle for existence between liberal democracies and warlike autocracies, between good and evil. This reading and the associated moral charge will promote an extension and consolidation of the conflict, far beyond the actual end of fighting. This gives war a meaning that rises less from what is happening itself, but rather from the reaction to it.
Actually, the task of science would be to present from its own treasure those arguments which are not already constantly represented. This is precisely why the absence of an argument formulated in the literature of John Herz’s literature as early as 1950 irritates the statements of political scientists – and since then has belonged to the classic textbook material: in international politics, the strength of some ever means the threat to the other. The arming of one side to prevent threats and defence unsettles the other, which in turn is under threat and also armed for the purpose of the defence. What is called defensive is perceived as offensive. This is how arms races arise: Under conditions of non-knowledge and without confidence-building measures, no actor can be secure about the intentions of the political opponent. The result is more expensive for both sides than it should be. The historical way out of the security dilemma of the East-West conflict was the creation of international arms control regimes. As incredible as it may seem right at the moment, those who are interested in stability in Europe will already have to think about initiating a new process of disarmament. The free letter on rearmament, which was decided in a hurry, should actually be an opportunity for all those who see themselves as experts to think about ways out of the security dilemma. That would be the historical task of peace research.