A revival of Yalta – in terms of a post-war division of spheres of influence – is impossible. Yet a return to the spirit of 1945, when the foundations of a world order giving all actors a voice were crafted, remains the only viable strategy for preserving global stability, writes Anton Bespalov, Programme Director of the Valdai Club.
Earlier this year, signs of a potential agreement between Moscow and Washington regarding the Ukrainian conflict sparked intense debate – both in Russia and abroad – about the prospect of a new “Yalta.” Yet any comparison between the current situation and the events of World War II is fundamentally misguided, as that conflict remains a singular historical phenomenon. The Yalta Conference – and later Potsdam – brought together the leaders of the Allied coalition confronting an enemy that had threatened the very existence of much of humanity. Since 1945, no comparable adversary has emerged, whether in military strength or ideological menace (attempts to cast terrorism, pandemics, or climate change in this role only underscore our failure to unite across political divides). To dismiss the historic Yalta Conference as a mere “deal” is to strip it of its profound significance.
At the same time, references to Yalta are an obvious appeal to images embedded in the historical memory of Russia and the West – images that carry entirely different meanings. In Russia, the Yalta Conference is perceived as the starting point for anew system of international relations, while in the West, “Yalta” has become synonymous with the division of Europe without regard for the interests of small and medium-sized states. Both interpretations have serious flaws. The goals of the Yalta participants were far from dividing Europe, let alone the world. Yet the post-war order that ultimately took shape – a bipolar system defined by superpower rivalry – deviated sharply from the principles enshrined in 1945.
The myth of Yalta as a “betrayal” of small nations, actively propagated in the West from the very beginning of the Cold War, played a key role in the ideological confrontation. Europe’s division by the late 1940s served as proof of “Soviet expansionism,” requiring ever-greater Western consolidation under Washington’s leadership. The peoples of Eastern Europe, now within the Soviet sphere, were declared “captive,” and their diasporas in the US became an important electoral asset for politicians advocating tougher policies toward the USSR. Finally, President Roosevelt was portrayed as a naïve idealist who failed to recognize Stalin’s treachery and “handed over” half of Europe to him – a narrative still used by hawks today as a cautionary tale against appeasing dictators.
In reality, Europe’s division was not cemented by agreements among the Allied leaders. On the contrary, they had envisioned a united, democratic Europe without dividing lines. The emergence of these lines resulted from the complex dynamics between great powers and their leaders, solidified by the post-war realities on the ground. The establishment of pro-Soviet regimes in Eastern Europe was not an instantaneous process; it unfolded amid escalating confrontation with the West – and, crucially, was never predetermined at Yalta or Potsdam.
The Western myth of Yalta persisted, though at times – such as during détente – it receded into the background. It survived the Cold War and gained new life after former Eastern Bloc states joined the Western community, bringing their own national narratives. A coherent framework took shape, portraying the liberation of Eastern Europe as Soviet occupation, its communist regimes as illegitimate, and their collapse as the inevitable triumph of freedom.
New myths arose from the unprecedented circumstances of the Eastern Bloc’s dissolution. The USSR relinquished its sphere of influence west of its borders not due to military defeat or internal crisis, but voluntarily – hoping to create a united Europe and thus return to Yalta’s true spirit. We cannot know what the bipolar system might have become had history taken a different path. But, in reality, the key factor in its collapse was Moscow’s goodwill – a fact the West prefers to overlook, instead emphasizing its own heroes, from Ronald Reagan to Pope John Paul II. Meanwhile, in Russia, awareness of the remarkable stability of the post-war order – disrupted only when one of its pillars abandoned its role – gave rise to its own Yalta mythology.
In this narrative, the Cold War appears as an era of stability, where clear rules and defined spheres of influence maintained peace on the continent. Indeed, four decades without war marked a unique period for Europe as a whole, while Russia benefited from an extended buffer of friendly states. Despite rhetoric about “captive nations,” the West never rushed to liberate them, respecting the dividing lines.
If Moscow’s efforts to preserve its sphere of influence proved flawed, abandoning it was catastrophic. The attempt to build a “common European home” ultimately produced new dividing lines and a dangerous imbalance of power on the continent. During the US “unipolar moment,” moralizing about Yalta’s impact on smaller nations reached absurd heights. George W. Bush’s 2005 speech in Riga – comparing Yalta to the Munich Agreement and Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact while declaring its legacy “buried once and for all” – rang especially hypocritical as America waged war in Iraq under false pretences. This disregard for UN norms did far more to undermine Yalta’s legacy than any rhetoric.
In his work on the myths of Yalta and Potsdam , British historian Geoffrey Roberts cautions against overstating the conferences’ importance, noting that many key post-war decisions about Germany and world order were made earlier. Yet their symbolic power – and the mythology it spawned – cannot be denied. Later scholars, armed with hindsight, would debate when the Cold War began or whether it was inevitable. Contemporaries, however, recognized they were closing an era in the history of Europe, when it was, in Churchill words, “a volcano from which war springs”. The twists that followed ushered in a new geopolitical context, shaped by the resolution of the German problem, Europe’s central.
Yet during the great post-war conferences – Yalta, Potsdam, San Francisco – humanity had a chance to build anew international system. The UN’s creation marked a tremendous breakthrough in fostering (however imperfect) universal dialogue. Eighty years on, we see that its founding principles were ahead of their time. A revival of Yalta – in terms of a post-war division of spheres of influence – is impossible. Yet a return to the spirit of 1945, when the foundations of a world order giving all actors a voice were crafted, remains the only viable strategy for preserving global stability.
