The Zelensky Zeitgeist

I want to begin with something that should be obvious—but in these uncertain times, bears repeating. Britain is not some distant bystander in the great struggles of history. We are not a nation that shrinks from its duty when liberty is under threat. We are not a country that has sat idly by while others fought and fell in defence of democracy.

Ours is a nation that has stood in the breach. A nation that, in the wake of the September 11th attacks, did not hesitate to stand shoulder to shoulder with America, to fight for a cause greater than ourselves—the cause of security, of democracy, of the rule of law. Many brave men and women paid the ultimate price, and we honour them not only for their sacrifice but for their conviction: that free nations do not yield in the face of tyranny.

And now, once again, the free world is under threat.

This time, not from the shadows of terrorism, but from the blunt force of a revanchist empire. Russia’s war against Ukraine is not some distant skirmish; it is not merely a border dispute, nor a conflict confined to history’s margins. It is, for the first time since the end of the Second World War, a direct challenge to the security of Europe.

There are those who say we have provoked this war—that NATO’s expansion in Eastern Europe, that Ukraine’s desire for self-determination, somehow justified this monstrous act of aggression. This is a lie. A lie as insidious as those that justified the darkest crimes of the last century. The reality is this: Putin did not invade because he felt threatened. He invaded because he saw weakness. He saw complacency. He saw a West that had, for too long, told itself that war was a thing of the past, that history had ended, that peace was permanent.

And yet, here we are.

The people of Ukraine have not asked for this war. They did not start it. But they have fought it with a courage that history will remember. They have withstood missile barrages on their cities, brutal war crimes against their civilians, and the grinding cruelty of an empire that refuses to accept that its colonies are gone. And still, they stand.

In 1940, when Britain stood alone against Hitler’s fascism, the world watched to see if we would break. We did not. And today, after two years of war, Ukraine is in its own finest hour. They have shown us what it means to defend democracy—not in speeches, not in slogans, but in blood and sacrifice. In the words of Abraham Lincoln, "The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here."

But words of admiration are not enough.

If we in Britain truly believe in our historic role—if we believe in our obligations as a great power—then we must act like one. And that means recognising a stark truth: deterrence is not cheap.

For too long, our defence budget has been treated as an afterthought, a dispensable line item on a spreadsheet rather than what it truly is: an investment in our security, our sovereignty, and our standing in the world. It is time for Britain to go further and faster on defence spending, not as an act of charity to Ukraine, but as a necessity for our own national survival.

And let me be clear: this will not be easy.

If we are to spend more on defence, we must be honest about where the money comes from. We cannot pretend that we can borrow endlessly, that we can simply wish away the fiscal realities of a country already burdened with debt. No—if we are to rebuild our military strength, it must come from hard choices. That means targeted tax rises. That means difficult spending cuts. That means reforming our bloated bureaucracy, deploying artificial intelligence to drive efficiency, and ensuring that every pound spent by government is a pound spent wisely.

Some will say that this is too great a sacrifice. That times are already hard. That we cannot afford to take on this burden. But to them, I say this: the cost of inaction is always greater. The cost of looking away, of ignoring the lessons of history, of believing that the world will take care of itself, is measured not in pounds and pence, but in blood and war and the slow decline of everything we hold dear.

And so, let us be clear about one final truth: there is no trade-off between foreign aid and defence. There is no dichotomy between helping the world’s poorest and protecting Britain’s security. These are two sides of the same coin. A world where Britain is strong, where we stand up for our values, where we invest in both hard power and humanitarian leadership, is a world that is safer, more prosperous, and more aligned with our long-term interests.

But there is a real choice we must make. A choice between engagement and isolation. Between leading and retreating.

And here, let us be frank: we must reject the siren song of isolationism that has crept into our discourse, whether it comes from the fringes of British politics or from across the Atlantic. Donald Trump’s retreat from Europe is a mistake of historic proportions. His willingness to abandon NATO, to cede influence to Russia, to walk away from alliances that have kept the peace for seventy-five years, is not a strategy—it is a surrender.

We cannot afford to make the same mistake.

Difficult days lie ahead. The world is becoming more dangerous, not less. The years of peace dividend, of assuming that history had ended, are over. The question before us is simple: will we rise to the occasion? Will we strengthen our defences, deepen our alliances, and commit to the hard path of leadership?

Or will we falter?

The choice is ours.

But I say this: if history has taught us anything, it is that Britain is at its best when it refuses to shrink from its responsibilities. We are not a nation that runs from the fight. We are not a people who abandon our allies. We have never been, and we must never be.

Now is the time for resolve. Now is the time for action.

And now, once again, is the time for Britain to lead.

So let us send a signal, clear and unambiguous.

That Britain does not flinch in the face of tyranny. That we do not appease aggression. That we do not sit idly by while the foundations of European security are shaken. That we do not, as some would have us do, retreat into isolation and wish away the dangers of the world.

We stand, as we have always stood, against those who believe that power alone is the source of legitimacy. Against those who redraw borders with brute force. Against those who believe that might, not right, should govern the world.

We stand with Ukraine because their fight is our fight. Their struggle is our struggle. And their cause—the cause of democracy, freedom, and self-determination—is the cause that has defined the best moments of British history.

It is easy to stand for these values when times are good. The test is whether we stand for them when times are hard. And so I say this: let no one doubt where Britain stands. We stand with our allies. We stand with our principles. We stand, as we always have, on the side of those who resist tyranny, who fight for their freedom, who refuse to bend the knee to aggression.

And let history show that when the moment came—when we were called upon, once again, to stand for what is right—we did not hesitate. We did not waver.

We stood.

By Jason Perysinakis, Founder and Managing Director of the Centre for Technological Growth and Policy Innovation