Those who really value Ukrainian sovereignty should opt for real

Hear now the words of Tariq Ali, thinker and historian, who has long gazed upon the struggles of nations with the eyes of both passion and reason: “Those who really value Ukrainian sovereignty should opt for real independence and a positive neutrality: neither a plaything of the West nor Moscow.” In this utterance lies a truth as old as empire itself — that sovereignty is not a flag, nor an alliance, nor the favor of great powers. It is the hard-won right of a people to walk their own path, to chart their own destiny, and to be swayed neither by flattery nor fear. Ali, like the philosophers of old, calls for balance, for the courage of self-determination untainted by domination. He warns that to be caught between giants is to risk the loss of the soul of a nation.

The soil of Ukraine has long borne the weight of empire — from the tsars of Russia to the commissars of the Soviet Union, from the entangling temptations of the West to the shadowed ambitions of its neighbors. It has been a crossroads of civilizations, a bridge and a battleground, a place where languages, faiths, and loyalties collide. Thus, when Tariq Ali speaks of “real independence,” he speaks not of mere political borders, but of the deeper independence of identity, of thought, and of will. For a nation may gain its freedom in law, yet lose it in spirit if it becomes the pawn of others’ designs. To be neutral is not to be weak — it is to stand upright between two storms, anchored by principle rather than pulled by power.

The ancients would have understood this wisdom. In the days of Athens and Sparta, there was a small island called Melos, whose people wished to remain neutral amidst the Peloponnesian War. They sought peace, not favor; sovereignty, not servitude. Yet both empires demanded allegiance, and when Melos refused to bow, Athens — the self-proclaimed champion of democracy — destroyed it. So perished Melos, and so was born the eternal warning: that neutrality is not always safe, but it is the truest measure of independence. In invoking neutrality, Ali summons this ancient lesson — that a nation’s dignity is worth more than the promises of any empire, east or west.

To be neither “a plaything of the West nor Moscow” is to reject the false comfort of vassalage. The powerful may offer protection, but their shields are also chains. History overflows with examples of nations that traded autonomy for alliance, only to awaken in regret. Czechoslovakia once sought the trust of both the Soviet Union and the Western powers — yet in 1968, its hopes for freedom were crushed beneath Soviet tanks, while the West stood by in silence. The lesson was carved into stone that day: the sovereignty of small nations cannot depend on the mercy of great ones. True independence, as Ali declares, is born from the courage to trust one’s own people, to endure the trials of self-reliance, and to forge a destiny free from the strings of others.

But neutrality, as Ali calls it, is not passivity — it is positive neutrality, a conscious choice to engage with the world while guarding one’s freedom. It is the path of wisdom, neither isolation nor subservience. Consider Finland, which after the Second World War stood between East and West. Surrounded by power, it chose a middle road — maintaining peace with the Soviet Union while building its own society upon democratic and cultural strength. For decades, Finland walked this narrow path with grace and vigilance. It was neither a pawn nor a prize, but a sovereign voice in its own right. This is the vision Ali holds for Ukraine — a nation defined not by who commands it, but by who it chooses to be.

There is a deeper teaching here for all peoples and generations. In every human life, as in every nation, there comes a time when one must choose between dependence and self-trust. To rely too heavily on others, even on those who promise aid, is to risk surrendering one’s direction. Real independence — whether of a person or a people — requires discipline, clarity, and courage. It asks us to resist the seductive comfort of protection and to embrace the hard labor of self-rule. For sovereignty without self-mastery is a hollow crown, and freedom without responsibility is but another form of bondage.

O listener, take heed of this wisdom: do not let your fate be decided by those who claim to guide you for your good. Seek counsel, but preserve judgment. Accept friendship, but guard freedom. Whether you are a nation or a single soul, strive to live in positive neutrality — open to the world, yet loyal to your own truth. Let neither fear nor favor rule you. For as Tariq Ali reminds us, the strength of any people lies not in the alliances they form, but in the integrity they keep.

Thus, let this be your guiding star: independence is not isolation; it is self-respect. To be neutral is not to stand aside, but to stand tall. A nation that walks its own path, governed by conscience rather than coercion, shines brighter than any empire. And when the day comes that the world’s powers shift and collide once more, the sovereign — be it a country or a soul — shall remain unmoved, like a mountain rooted in truth.