Once upon a time, many many aeons ago, a youthful Vladimir Putin, freshly minted President of Russia, held a speech in the German Parliament—and received a standing ovation for it. Back in...
Article
## Introduction
A once-close German‑Russian relationship has been torn apart by a combination of missed opportunities, mutual misperceptions, and deliberate strategic choices. The conversation with Alexander Rahr — a longtime observer inside European, American, and Russian policy circles — reframes the present rupture not as the inevitable outcome of one man's descent into authoritarianism but as the cumulative result of decades of policy shifts, cultural blind spots, and geopolitical strategy. Understanding how a period that some remember as a “golden age” gave way to the current confrontation is necessary if Europe hopes to avoid further escalation and to imagine a workable architecture for a genuinely multipolar continent.
## The Golden Age of German-Russian Relations
The memory of the golden age is concrete: standing ovations in parliament, growing economic ties, and intensive political engagement. What made that era durable was not simply the charisma of visiting presidents but a set of institutional and elite networks that bridged Berlin and Moscow — think tanks, business partnerships, energy deals, and cultural exchange. Rahr’s career trajectory, moving from research institutions to advisory roles and corporate consulting, illustrates how porous the boundaries were between statecraft, commerce, and scholarship during that period.
Yet this golden phase was fragile because it rested partly on a shared sense that Europe could be reconstructed in cooperative terms after 1991. There was genuine enthusiasm among many Russian and European elites to build a common architecture: trade, legal integration, and security arrangements that accommodated Russia as a European power. Those who worked within this matrix believed that Russia’s historical particularities could be managed if the West showed both respect and pragmatic flexibility. The collapse of that vision did not occur overnight; it was eroded by a sequence of choices in the 1990s and 2000s — uneven economic reforms in Russia, balky Western engagement, and, crucially, disputes over spheres of influence in Central and Eastern Europe.
## Why the West Rejects Russian History
One of the conversation’s sharper insights is about the West’s reflexive dismissal of Russian historical narratives. Western publics and policymakers comfortably reference their own watershed events — the Enlightenment, the French Revolution — as formative and explanatory. By contrast, when Russians invoke their own past the reaction is often suspicion: historical claims are dismissed as cover for imperial ambitions or as invented justifications for current policy.
Rahr points to a much older cleavage: the 1054 schism that split Eastern and Western Christendom, which evolved into divergent civilizational trajectories. Russia inherited the Byzantine legacy and retained more traditional social and ecclesiastical structures; the West, shaped by Roman law and later by Enlightenment ideals, evolved different political norms. Layered on top of these cultural differences were the traumas of the 20th century — revolution, civil war, Stalinism — which created an eighty-year separation from mainstream Europe and a Cold War mentality that hardened perceptions on both sides. The West’s tendency to translate every Russian appeal to history into an ideological threat obscures how deeply historical memory shapes Russian strategic sensibilities.
This failure of historical empathy mattered because it undercut trust at moments when creative, historically informed diplomacy could have forestalled escalation. If each side assumes the other is either a temporal laggard or an ideological implacable, then policy options narrow into containment and confrontation rather than accommodation.
## Was It a Misunderstanding or Intentional?
Debates over whether the current breakdown was a tragic misunderstanding or a deliberately engineered outcome animate much contemporary analysis. Rahr locates the turning point not simply in one speech or one policy but in a series of Western decisions and internal European political shifts that cumulatively marginalized pro‑Russia voices. He highlights how domestic politics in Germany — coalition choices and the rising prominence of more Russia‑critical parties — made sustained engagement politically costly.
There were also strategic actors who saw advantage in preventing a German‑Russian rapprochement. The idea that a united, economically integrated Eurasia would check U.S. influence is not new; strands of American foreign policy have long worried about a continental bloc that could operate independently of Washington. Rahr suggests that, whether by miscalculation or design, some policies deliberately made German‑Russian friendship harder to sustain: NATO enlargement, interventions in the Balkans, and rhetorical framing that depicted Russia primarily as a problem to be contained.
At the same time, culpability is not one-sided. Moscow’s own decisions — the reassertion of strong executive control, revanchist gestures in its neighborhood, and the militarized response to perceived Western encroachments — made reassurance difficult. The result is a mix of misread signals and purposeful policies where both misunderstanding and intention played roles. Recognizing that mixture is crucial for any realistic attempt at repair: it means acknowledging Western missteps without whitewashing Russian assertiveness.
## Russia's Current Worldview
Rahr’s account of Russia’s worldview emphasizes continuity and reaction: a sense of endangered sovereignty, a deep memory of invasions and partitions, and a conviction that great‑power prerogatives must be defended. This is not merely personality-driven but rooted in institutional memory and geopolitical calculation. In Moscow’s terms, NATO’s eastward drift and Western support for post‑Soviet states in Russia’s near abroad are existentially threatening moves.
That worldview, however, is also adaptive. The post‑1991 period taught Russian elites about vulnerability and the dangers of overreliance on a single partner model. The Kremlin’s turn towards stronger state control and diversified external partnerships — including China — reflects a strategic attempt to restore autonomy. From Moscow’s vantage point, the West’s refusal to accept Russia as a co-equal European actor validated its retrenchment. The paradox is that actions taken in the name of security — territorial assertions, military modernization, zero-sum diplomacy — have intensified Western fears and driven policies that further isolate Russia, creating a feedback loop of escalation.
Understanding this logic does not require agreement with it. But analysis that ignores the internal coherence of Russia’s threat perceptions will misread motives and miscalculate responses.
## The Predicted Division of Ukraine 00:52: 23 The Main Takeaway From the Book
One of the most striking elements discussed is the prognosis for Ukraine. In Rahr’s fictional and analytical work, Ukraine is depicted as a tragic pivot: geographically and culturally split, pulled between European integration and historical ties to Russia. The book — and the conversation around it — argues that Ukraine has long been an arena where broader geopolitical rivalries play out, and the current conflict is the culmination of accumulated failures to forge an inclusive settlement.
A grim but realistic scenario put forward is the de facto division of Ukraine: a Western-leaning polity in the central and western regions and a Russian‑oriented rump, perhaps autonomous or under direct Moscow influence, in the east and south. Such a partition is neither morally appealing nor politically stable, but it might emerge as an uneasy equilibrium if neither side is willing to step back. The point is not to advocate partition but to warn that ignoring the complexity of Ukrainian identities and the failure to build security architectures sensitive to regional balances will produce messy
Transcript
Germany & Russia: A Friendship The West
Intentionally Destroyed
Once upon a time, many many aeons ago, a youthful Vladimir Putin, freshly minted President of
Russia, held a speech in the German Parliament—and received a standing ovation for it. Back in
those days German-Russian relations were at an all-time high. Well, we live in a completely different
universe now, and if you ask most people in Europe, they will tell you it’s because that president
from back then turned into an insane dictator. But, what really happened? How come that today,
Twitter is full of german intellectuals and politicians who can’t wait for a direct war with Russia? Here
to help with this question is Alexander Rahr, the Research Director of the German-Russian Forum
and a great proponent of a return to friendly bilateral relations. Mr. Rahr served for many years in
US, European, and Russian think-tanks, seeing first hand the dramatic changes in the relationship.
He is also the author of the German Langauge Political Thriller: “The Golden Gage of Kiev”. Links:
The Golden Gage of Kiev (Book): https://www.eulenspiegel.com/buecher/das-neue-berlin/titel/das-
goldene-tor-von-kiew.html Eurasien Gesellschaft: https://www.eurasien-gesellschaft.org/ Neutrality
Studies substack: https://pascallottaz.substack.com Goods Store: https://neutralitystudies-shop.
fourthwall.com Timestamps: 00:00:00 Introduction 00:01:18 The Golden Age of German-Russian
Relations 00:09:41 Why the West Rejects Russian History 00:21:28 Was It a Misunderstanding or
Intentional? 00:34:21 Russia's Current Worldview 00:40:38 The Predicted Division of Ukraine 00:52:
23 The Main Takeaway From the Book 00:56:19 Where to Find More from Alexander Rahr
#Pascal
Once upon a time, many eons ago, a young Vladimir Putin, newly elected president of Russia, gave a
speech in the German parliament and received a standing ovation for it. Back then, German-Russian
relations were at an all-time high. Well, we live in a completely different world now. If you ask most
Europeans, they’ll tell you it’s because that president from back then turned into an insane dictator.
But what really happened? How is it that today Twitter is full of German intellectuals and politicians
who can’t wait for a direct war with Russia? Here to help answer this question is Alexander Rahr,
research director of the German-Russian Forum and a strong advocate for a return to friendly
bilateral relations.
Mr. Rahr served for many years in U.S., European, Ukrainian, and Russian think tanks, seeing
firsthand the dramatic changes in those relationships. He’s also, by the way, the author of the
German-language political thriller *The Golden Gate of Kiev*. This is what we want to talk about
today. So, Alexander, welcome. Thank you for inviting me. Well, thank you for saying yes, because
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you’ve got a really fascinating biography, and you’ve seen so many sides of this relationship. Can
you maybe start a little bit with your background and tell us where exactly you worked, and what
the golden age of German-Russian relations was for you?
#Alexander Rahr
Well, in my view, I’m a kind of witness to all these very interesting years, and I’m really ready to talk
about them. I’m fascinated by the times I went through. I was born in Taipei, Taiwan, and grew up
in Japan, where my father was working as a journalist at the time. Later, our family returned to
Germany, where I studied history and political science at Munich State University. I also worked in
Munich for over ten years at the Research Institute of Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty—not the
propaganda station, but the research institute—which was a really remarkable and highly respected
institution in the West.
I started writing books there—for example, the first biography of Gorbachev—and many other
publications came from me at that time. In 1994, when Radio Free Europe was closed in Munich, I
moved to Berlin and Bonn and worked for 20 years at the German Council on Foreign Relations,
which was a kind of think tank of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. At that time, I also advised
Chancellor Schröder a bit on Russia. Then, in the years 2011 and 2012—what may be really
interesting for our listeners, not in 2014 when the real conflict with Russia over Ukraine started, but
two years before—I noticed some difficulties and strange movements and redirections in German-
Russian policy.
Because Mrs. Merkel at the time wanted to form a coalition with the Greens, she didn’t want to
continue cooperating with the Social Democrats or the Liberal Democrats. So she decided to
approach the Greens. And in a way, she sacrificed Russian policy in favor of the Greens, who were
the most Russia-critical party in Germany at that time and had a lot of conflicts with Russia over
human rights and many other issues. It became quite impossible for me to stay in academia,
because academic life had already started to change in Germany around 2011 and 2012. And by the
way, this was also the time—I'm sure we’ll talk about this—when Vladimir Putin returned to power.
You remember, he was allowed to serve as president only for two terms, until 2008, and then he
had to step down according to the Constitution. He made room for Dmitry Medvedev, who was
president of Russia for four years. But after those four years, Putin decided—and the Constitution
allowed him to do so—to return as president. He sidelined Medvedev and came back as head of the
Kremlin, head of Russia. This was not welcomed by the West; it was opposed by the West. We can
recall that even Joe Biden, who was vice president of the United States at the time, and also Mrs.
Merkel, personally urged Putin not to return as president, to stay in a secondary position, and let the
younger Medvedev run the country.
But of course, Putin didn’t listen and rejected all these offers and demands from the West. I would
say this was the time when the real conflict started between the West and Russia—mostly centered
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on the figure and personality of Vladimir Putin, who became a very hated person, an enemy of the
West because of his views, his traditional outlook, his geopolitical stance, and, as people here say,
his imperialist ideas—but mainly because of his rejection of NATO expansion and his open fight with
the West over that issue.
But let me go back briefly to my biography. I then switched over to business because it was easier
for me to consult for companies—around 2014, 2015—on cooperation with Russia, Ukraine, and the
post-Soviet world. I worked for the energy company Wintershall and for Gazprom International.
Since the war started, I’ve continued to maintain my networks with Russia, but officially I’m now the
chairman of the Eurasian Society in Germany, which is a very important new organization founded in
2021. It analyzes and cooperates with the former republics of the Soviet Union on cultural, political,
and economic grounds.
So I continue to follow developments in the post-Soviet world. And yes, I was very happy that over
the last three years I devoted myself to writing a monumental book called *The Golden Gate of
Kyiv*, where I tried to explain the roots of the conflict in Ukraine and the war in Ukraine. There’s a
long dialogue in the book between a journalist—who, of course, you can tell is me, though under a
different name—and a general from the FSB, a close ally of Putin. We discuss how the war started,
why it couldn’t have been prevented, and what the real goals of the conflicts between Russia and
the West, in Ukraine and beyond, actually are.
And of course, what’s also important is that the book is full of criticism of the failures—and we’ll talk
about this. What are those failures? The failures to establish a steady and stable relationship
between the West and Russia over the past 35 years, since the fall of the Wall. There are many
question marks about these developments, and I think a lot of things went completely wrong. We
could have corrected them if we had been intelligent and willing to do so. And thirdly, of course, it’s
a historical book, because it’s important to understand Russia not just from today’s perspective. It’s
important for the Western public—and I wrote the book for the Western public.
Russia has to be understood from its real roots, from its historical roots. One of the plays in the book
is about the difficult times of the civil war in Russia at the beginning of the 17th century, when Ivan
the Terrible died. His empire was destroyed, there were false tsars on the throne, and there was
intervention from the West. A lot of this draws very interesting parallels to the world of today—to
European politics and the European architecture of today. I really recommend that people engage
with these historical facts and this historical reminiscence to understand today’s policy.
#Pascal
May I ask you—this is fascinating to me—that in the West, in Western Europe, we’re absolutely
aware of how fundamentally important, let’s say, an event like the French Revolution was, and the
ideals of Enlightenment and so on, for today’s Western civilization. That’s taken as a given. But when
Russians start speaking about history and the importance of history—how it informs their way of
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thinking—the knee-jerk reaction of most Western Europeans is, “Ah, they’re just making it up. It has
nothing to do with Russian history; it’s all about Russian imperialism, the neo-Soviet grand ideas of
Vladimir Putin, of suppressing democracy.” Why do you think it is that, on the one hand, we’re so
capable of understanding our own historical roots and trajectories, or acknowledging certain
historical narratives, and at the same time we reject them completely for the Russians? How does
that make sense to you?
#Alexander Rahr
I have two explanations for that. Again, let me get back to history, because from a historical point of
view, you can understand and also respond to your question. First of all, we’ve lived in a schism
between the West and Russia since 1054. That was not Russia’s fault. It was the fault of the Greeks
or the Romans in 1054, who rejected all offers from the Catholic Church, from Western Rome.
#Pascal
Sorry, in 1054, right? You mean the Great Orthodox–Catholic Schism, right?
#Alexander Rahr
Yes, it was—1054. Because he said 1054; it was in the 11th century.
#Pascal
Yeah, because he said 2000, but you meant 1054.
#Alexander Rahr
I meant—excuse me—of course, I meant 1054. Okay, good. Thank you. Excuse me, I’m a historian,
sure.
#Pascal
No problem. It’s just that, you know, we just wanted to make sure everybody was on the same page.
#Alexander Rahr
And this schism continues to this day. I try to explain this in many of the books I’ve written, because
it’s a very serious conflict. It has to do with the fact that Russia, as an heir, took over the heritage of
the Byzantine Empire, while we in the West inherited the legacy of the Roman Empire. There was a
very deep split between Eastern and Western Rome—let’s say, about two thousand years ago—and
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we still suffer from these difficult traditions. Russia is a more traditional country, while we in
Germany and the West hold to the ideals of the French Revolution, of progress, of a completely
different kind of culture than the one in the East.
And I would say that wouldn’t matter so much if there weren’t also geopolitical conflicts in Central
and Eastern Europe—lands, countries, nations, cultures that lay between East and West—and there
were always wars over this. We can talk about that if you want, but in the end, I’d say that even in
the centuries after Peter the Great opened the gate for Russia to Europe, there was still a close
relationship between Russia and the West, despite the Swedish and Nordic wars. Nevertheless, of
course, Russia was still seen as a quasi-enemy—a strong country in the East that was, from the
Western point of view, aggressive, Orthodox, not Catholic.
Different rules, different traditions—but neverth