Ukrainian Foreign Minister Andrii Sybiha criticized Slovak Foreign Minister Juraj Blanar for suggesting the international community might forgive Russia and re-engage in dialogue. Sybiha argued that forgiving Russia would embolden it, referencing Blanar’s comments advocating for diplomacy and possibly forgiveness. This rebuke followed Blanar’s statements that the war couldn’t be resolved militarily and that Russia could be forgiven. This response highlights the differing viewpoints on how to end the war in Ukraine, with Ukraine prioritizing justice and accountability for Russian actions.
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Russia will hit your other cheek as well, a concept that perfectly encapsulates the Ukrainian response to the Slovak Foreign Minister’s suggestion of “perhaps forgiving” Moscow. It’s a phrase steeped in irony, referencing the biblical proverb but twisted to highlight the inherent dangers of prematurely extending an olive branch to a belligerent adversary. The very notion of forgiveness, as it currently stands, is deeply problematic when considering the ongoing conflict, the atrocities committed, and the fundamental lack of remorse demonstrated by Russia.
The core issue is trust, or rather, the complete absence of it. Russia, through its actions and pronouncements, has repeatedly proven itself to be untrustworthy. Agreements are discarded at will, promises are broken, and blatant lies are the norm. Forgiveness, in any meaningful sense, requires a foundation of good faith, of an understanding that past wrongs won’t be repeated. With Russia, there’s no guarantee of this. Suggesting forgiveness before Russia has demonstrated any genuine intention of changing its ways is not only naive, it’s potentially dangerous, leaving the door open for further aggression.
The proposed prerequisites for forgiveness offered by some, like a full retreat from Ukraine, reparations, and the removal of Vladimir Putin, while seemingly reasonable, also expose the impracticality of the Slovak FM’s stance. These are monumental shifts that demand tangible actions and verifiable commitments from Russia. Even if these conditions were met, the question remains: Can the aggressor be trusted to honor any agreement, especially when their own self-interest might dictate otherwise? The history of this conflict, and Russia’s long-standing pattern of deception, strongly suggests they cannot.
The response of Ukrainian officials, echoed by many, highlights a crucial point: forgiveness cannot precede accountability. There’s a gaping chasm between simply retreating and actually making amends for the devastation unleashed upon Ukraine. The horrors of war, the rapes, the tortures, the mass murders, and the abduction of children are not minor transgressions; they are grievous crimes that demand justice. Ignoring these atrocities in the rush to forgive, is not only a disservice to the victims, it sets a dangerous precedent, validating the very behavior the world should be striving to eradicate.
The argument for forgiveness is often rooted in a desire for peace and an end to the bloodshed. However, true peace, lasting peace, cannot be built on a foundation of unaddressed grievances and unpunished crimes. It requires accountability, reconciliation, and a sincere commitment to preventing future atrocities. Without this, the call for forgiveness becomes a call for the victims to absolve the aggressor, for the injured to be appeased, not for justice to be served.
The situation is not simply a matter of tit-for-tat retribution; it’s about establishing a framework for a more just and secure future. This is what makes the call for immediate forgiveness, without any demonstrable change in Russian behavior, so problematic. It’s akin to asking a victim to extend mercy to their assailant while the assailant is still wielding the weapon. As Ukraine’s response demonstrates, a premature embrace of forgiveness risks creating an illusion of peace, a fragile structure easily shattered by Russia’s continued aggression.
Comparisons to the historical forgiveness between countries, like Poland and Germany, while understandable, need careful consideration. These examples are complex and involved profound changes in societal structures, acceptance of guilt, and a commitment to rebuilding. The conditions, as it stands now, simply aren’t the same in the case of Russia and Ukraine. Before forgiveness, the aggressor has to fully accept the guilt, and commit to reparations for the damage and atrocities committed.
The cynical interpretation of the Slovak FM’s comment, “Russia will hit your other cheek too,” highlights the core of the problem. Russia has consistently shown that it’s not interested in honoring agreements or engaging in honest dealings. Their actions have consistently demonstrated a willingness to escalate conflict, to inflict further damage, and to exploit any perceived weakness. Suggesting forgiveness in this context, without any guarantees of changed behavior, is seen as an invitation for further aggression, a dangerous misreading of Russia’s intentions.
Ultimately, the Ukrainian response is a clear and emphatic message: forgiveness is earned, not demanded. It’s a process that requires accountability, reparations, and a fundamental shift in Russia’s behavior. Until these conditions are met, any talk of forgiveness rings hollow and risks undermining the quest for a just and lasting peace. Before that, Russia’s history has shown that it will instead hit the other cheek, and the other, too.
