Met with almost universal condemnation and economic sanctions in the West, Russia’s war against Ukraine received more mixed responses in the Global South. While it is tempting to frame this difference in terms of democracy versus autocracy, the reality is more nuanced. How can Ukraine – and Europe – improve their diplomatic outreach to countries in the Global South without appealing to a supposed moral superiority?

This interview with Polish-Mexican foreign policy researcher Ivan Kłyszcz is part of a series of reflections and conversations around the concept of “neo-idealism”, an approach to geopolitics grounded in values such as human rights and fundamental freedoms, as opposed to great power realism.

Richard Wouters & Sofiia Shevchuk: In a 2023 article on the Global South’s response to Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, you highlight the diverging perceptions held by the West and the “non-West”. What explains these differences?

Ivan U. Kłyszcz: The motivation behind that article was to start a conversation on why many countries have chosen not to impose sanctions on Russia, even though they acknowledge that the invasion of Ukraine violates international norms and has created a humanitarian disaster. Some countries decided to keep relations with Russia as they were, others even saw an opportunity to improve them. There’s an existing term in the literature that is being promoted for use in this context by certain academics from Latin America: “active non-alignment”. This label was originally coined in the context of the US-China trade war, which greatly affected Latin America, but is now also being applied in relation to Russia’s war on Ukraine. I think the term captures the sense of a proactive foreign policy that pursues national interests – or some understanding of national interests – without really committing to any of the major powers. We can, of course, find exceptions to this. However, when it comes to the [Ukraine] war, I think this is the approach that has dominated in most countries in the world.

One important driver behind active non-alignment is the fact that power is not what it used to be. The disparity between the major powers and developing countries has diminished to some extent. The wealth gap is still wide and, in some ways, becoming wider. But the power gap has narrowed. The world has changed since the Cold War era; Washington and Moscow are no longer able to behave as they used to. Smaller countries recognise that this development comes with advantages and disadvantages. The main advantage is that they are not compelled into alignment; they can push back against the US and Russia, as well as China and the EU. Many countries are now doing what they had aimed to do with the founding of the original Non-Aligned Movement (NAM) during the Cold War: they are pursuing their own foreign policies.

I’m thinking in particular of the middle powers in Africa, such as Algeria, Egypt, Nigeria, Ethiopia, and South Africa. These countries now have greater scope for autonomy, partly because the major powers have become less invested in Africa. Chinese investments have declined, while the EU is changing its approach altogether. These middle powers are therefore gaining relevance as brokers of regional affairs. The same can be seen in South America and Asia.

Active non-alignment became more evident after 2022 – just look at United Nations votes on Ukraine, as well as patterns of sanctions against and engagement with Russia. I believe this was an uncomfortable realisation for Moscow, which likely assumed some countries would be more supportive. Algeria, for example, which maintains deep historical, military, and economic ties with Russia, was expected to oppose measures condemning Moscow. Instead, it abstained in key votes in the UN General Assembly (UNGA), most notably on the March 2022 emergency session resolution calling for Russia to withdraw from Ukraine. This abstention – rather than a “no” vote – signalled hesitation and underscored the fact that Russian influence no longer automatically translates into diplomatic alignment with Moscow.

By contrast, Eritrea stood out as the only African country that voted against the UNGA resolution, joining a small group of states including Russia itself, Belarus, Syria, and North Korea. It also opposed the establishment of a UN Human Rights Council (HRC) commission to investigate war crimes in Ukraine; all other African HRC members voted in favour or abstained. Eritrea’s alignment reflected its strategic affinity with Russia and other authoritarian regimes yet did not result in any formal partnership.

Is there a difference between democratic and autocratic states in the Global South when it comes to support for Ukraine?

The evidence is tilting in this direction: the more democratic the country, the higher the level of support for Ukraine in the UNGA. However, there is plenty of room for nuance. I try to push back against the narrative that this is autocracy versus democracy, in the global picture at least. There are many countries that have been supportive of Ukraine but are not democracies. Take Sudan: there has reportedly been contact between the military junta there and Ukraine, and there has been some coverage of their relations in the military sphere since 2022. Of course, this remains unconfirmed, but it would appear to be traditional foreign policy at play.

Western support for Ukraine, spearheaded by “neo-idealist” politicians such as EU foreign policy chief Kaja Kallas, is viewed as hypocritical by many in the Global South. They point to Europe’s neglect of conflicts elsewhere. Can Ukraine’s own experience with colonial oppression help bridge the gap between European neo-idealism and anti-colonial perspectives in the Global South?

I have pondered this question a lot – the colonial narrative and the extent to which it connects Ukraine and the Global South. It’s a fascinating and complex area, and nothing definitive can be said about it yet. This is something scholars, historians, and others are still figuring out.

This uncertainty creates something of a dilemma for Ukraine in its efforts to develop strategic communications. Ukrainian officials certainly talk about the war as a colonial conflict: Russia trying to recolonise Ukraine. That argument carries some weight; you only need to look at what Russia is doing to those living in the occupied territories. But in Ukraine’s public diplomacy towards countries that have experienced colonialism, there is more caution. Ukrainian diplomats are hesitant to draw direct parallels between their history and the colonial histories of countries in the Global South. In private, I think they’re more willing to make that connection. Yet publicly, in diplomatic settings and at events, they are very careful.

When it comes to influencing the foreign policies of nations in the Global South, I think the colonial framing has reached its limits. The stance of active non-alignment is locked in. Ukrainian – and European – diplomacy stands a better chance if it appeals to these countries’ interests. We need to learn what these interests are and figure out where they might overlap with ours. It’s a good investment – not just financially – to build connections, make contacts, and bring decision-makers, businesspeople, students, and even artists into dialogue. That whole spectrum of engagement is valuable.

When it comes to influencing the foreign policies of nations in the Global South, I think the colonial framing has reached its limits.

To give a concrete example, about a year ago, the Estonian Foreign Ministry held a meeting with those African ambassadors who cover Estonia from Berlin. Estonia does not have African embassies; they’re usually in Helsinki, Stockholm, or Berlin. So, they organised a meeting in Berlin, where there’s the highest concentration. The foreign minister was there, as well as a lot of ministerial staff. They were trying to spark something. There were already formal diplomatic relations, of course, but this was about making those relationships active and meaningful. The message was very simple: “How do we make this a winning relationship? What can we do for you? Where can we find shared interests?”

It was a very simple gesture, with a message of equal partnership. No “lecturing” African ambassadors about Russia or framing everything through a security lens. I think there was something very sincere about it. Maybe that’s real idealism: the idea that we can transcend historical baggage and the broader geopolitical context by focusing on shared interests. That might sound naïve, but I found the initiative quite refreshing.

Why is it wrong to lecture about Russia?

I will respond to that with a brief anecdote. When I was in Addis Ababa, I asked people for their views on Ukraine. They were mostly very polite, very professional, and gave me excellent answers. But one person responded quite angrily, saying, “Our country, Ethiopia, is constantly at war, and we are constantly facing famine without the help of international donations. We have all these challenges – do not ask me about Ukraine.”

So much for neo-idealism, with its focus on values.

The neo-idealism articulated by various leaders in Central, Eastern, and Northern Europe often gets framed as part of a grand strategy in foreign relations, including by security expert Benjamin Tallis, who coined the term. I don’t see it that way. I see neo-idealism as a response to the West’s longstanding difficulty in translating its enormous economic and technological power into military success. Over the last 30 years, the West – whether we’re talking NATO, the US, or the EU – has struggled to win wars, at least in a strategic sense. We may win initially, but we often lose in the long term. That creates anxiety: why can’t we defend ourselves effectively despite all our power? I think neo-idealism partly stems from that anxiety.

One reason for this lack of success is the way the West prefers to fight wars: minimal casualties, heavy reliance on technology, short timelines. These kinds of wars are palatable to voters. But that’s not how war has traditionally been fought. Historically, war involves sacrifice, taxes, and deep societal mobilisation. We don’t see that now, and as a result, the military has almost disappeared from everyday public life in Europe.

For me, the key contribution of neo-idealism relates to how we think of defence and the role of the military in our societies. It’s about restoring visibility and relevance to defence without making it a partisan issue. In that sense, it is quite centrist – sometimes even called “radical centrism”. It says, let’s debate things like migration or climate policy openly and democratically, but let’s unite around defence. Whether you are right-wing or left-wing, reinvesting in the military and supporting Ukraine is reasonable policy. That’s the essence of the new idealism, in my view. It’s not so much about abstract values as about making defence a legitimate, visible, and shared concern in liberal democratic societies. I think that’s incredibly important.

New idealism is not so much about abstract values as about making defence a legitimate, visible, and shared concern in liberal democratic societies.

I’d even say that neo-idealism isn’t actually that idealistic. It’s a kind of hard-headed realism – especially here in Estonia, where the Russian threat is perceived as very real. For countries like Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Finland, and Norway, re-engaging with defence is not an academic issue; it’s about survival.

Do you have specific recommendations for Green parties?

Firstly, do not be tempted to pit the Ukrainian and the Palestinian causes against each other; they should not be seen as somehow in competition. That is fundamental if we want to find common ground for dialogue. I know that might sound vague, but I think it’s vital.

Secondly, we’re not going to solve the issue of hypocrisy in politics. Governments will remain self-interested; that’s just the reality of international relations. We’ll need to appeal to those interests to a certain extent if we want to build long-term, meaningful connections. That takes us back to traditional diplomacy – a practice that has its flaws and often leads to dead ends, including moral ones. If I had to make a recommendation here, it would be that politicians, especially those involved in foreign policy, take the time to reflect on these issues. They should ponder the weight and complexity of foreign policy and the significance of the ethical dilemmas it contains.