Is Ukraine Our Sudetenland Moment?

By Joe Palaggi

The last time the world tried to buy peace by giving a dictator what he wanted, it got World War II instead. That moment was Munich, 1938. Britain and France pressured Czechoslovakia into surrendering the Sudetenland to Adolf Hitler, gambling that a small concession would calm his ambitions. Instead, within a year, Hitler had taken the rest of Czechoslovakia, rolled into Poland, and plunged the world into war.

The lesson was painful and clear: appeasement isn’t peace. It is simply an invitation to further conquest.

Fast forward nearly a century. Vladimir Putin’s war in Ukraine has already consumed Crimea, wrecked cities, and left tens of thousands dead. In his speeches, Putin portrays himself as a protector of Russian speakers and a restorer of past greatness—much as Hitler spoke of “protecting” ethnic Germans in 1938. And the question facing the West is whether we are once again drifting toward appeasement, or whether Ukraine marks a turning point where democracies finally heed the warning of Munich.

The Parallels That Haunt Us

The parallels are chilling. Then as now, a strongman autocrat, bent on rebuilding a lost empire, targets a smaller neighbor. Then as now, Western capitals are reluctant to confront aggression head-on, fearful of what a larger war might bring. And then as now, the aggressor wraps naked expansion in the rhetoric of “protecting his people.”

In 1938, Hitler claimed the Sudetenland because it was home to ethnic Germans. Today, Putin insists that parts of Ukraine are forever Russian because of language and history. Both men saw weakness in Western hesitation and bet that bold moves would be rewarded.

But there are also crucial differences. Chamberlain and the French leaders of 1938 didn’t just hesitate—they forced Czechoslovakia to accept dismemberment. No arms, no sanctions, no solidarity. Only pressure to surrender territory. Ukraine, by contrast, is armed to the teeth by the West. Billions in weapons, intelligence, and economic aid flow from Washington and European capitals. Kyiv has not been abandoned.

The Temptation to “Cut a Deal”

Still, the specter of appeasement lingers. As the war grinds on, some voices whisper about the possibility of a compromise—Ukraine giving up Crimea or parts of the Donbas in exchange for peace. It sounds pragmatic. It sounds like a way out of endless bloodshed. But it is also exactly the logic of Munich: give up the smaller piece, and maybe the wolf will be satisfied.

We know how that story ends. Hitler took the Sudetenland in 1938, the rest of Czechoslovakia by early 1939, and then unleashed total war. Putin has already followed a similar pattern—Crimea in 2014, Donbas in 2022, and there is no reason to think he would stop if rewarded again. A dictator who wins through force learns only one lesson: force works.

What Makes This Different

But the West today is not the West of 1938. NATO troops aren’t sitting idle while a small ally is carved apart. Instead, they are drawing a line—arming Ukraine without crossing into direct confrontation. The balance is delicate. Nuclear weapons make escalation far riskier than in Hitler’s time. But aid without appeasement is still resistance.

It is also worth noting that Russia is not Nazi Germany. Hitler commanded an industrial juggernaut. Putin presides over a brittle petrostate with shrinking demographics and a military that has underperformed on nearly every front. That doesn’t make him harmless, but it does mean his empire-building dreams are far more fragile than Hitler’s were.

The West’s task, then, is not only to arm Ukraine but also to remain clear-eyed about the consequences of fatigue. If public opinion turns, if aid dwindles, if pressure mounts on Kyiv to “settle,” we risk stumbling into Munich all over again.

The Stakes Beyond Ukraine

This isn’t only about Ukraine. It is about the credibility of the post–World War II order that says borders cannot be changed by brute force. If Russia succeeds, others will take note—from Beijing watching Taiwan, to Tehran eyeing its neighbors. Appeasement in Europe could reverberate globally, destabilizing the very rules that have kept relative peace for decades.

Americans may ask why this matters so far from home. The answer is simple: the bill for appeasement always comes due, and it is always higher than the upfront cost of deterrence. Chamberlain thought he was avoiding war in 1938; instead, he set the stage for the most destructive conflict in human history. Helping Ukraine defend itself may be expensive. Letting Putin succeed would be far more costly in the long run.

Choosing Between Munich and the Alternative

The choice before us is stark. Either we allow Ukraine to be carved up in the name of short-term stability, or we hold the line and show that aggression by force earns nothing but resistance and ruin.

History has already written the verdict on Munich. It was a tragedy dressed up as diplomacy, a temporary calm purchased at the expense of millions of lives. Ukraine offers us a chance to prove that we’ve learned that lesson.

If Ukraine is forced to concede land for peace, history will mark it as Sudetenland 2.0. But if Ukraine holds—backed by Western resolve—it could be remembered as the moment when democracies finally broke the cycle of appeasement.