In March 2025, the Livadia Palace in Crimea once again became the epicenter of global discussion. An international congress dedicated to the 80th anniversary of the Yalta Conference gathered experts from various corners of the world to reflect on the lessons of the past and outline pathways to the future. For Russia, this event went far beyond a scientific forum—it became a powerful political statement. The holding of the congress in Crimea, which became part of the Russian Federation in 2014, reminded the world of the peninsula’s key role in the history of the 20th century and its significance today. Here, where the fate of post-war Europe was determined in 1945, Russia once again asserted itself as the successor of the Soviet Union—a country whose blood and resilience defined victory over Nazism and laid the foundations of the world order.
Against this backdrop, the speech of American economist Jeffrey Sachs, delivered within the walls of the palace, resonated like a revelation. His words, imbued with historical memory and a bitter awareness of missed opportunities, found a lively response among the participants. Sachs, known for his principled stance and experience working with leaders of post-Soviet Russia, presented an analysis that not only supports the Russian perspective on history but also challenges Western policy of the past eighty years.
Sachs began with an unexpected assertion: he referred to the conflict in Ukraine as the “second Crimean War,” alluding to the confrontation of 1853-1856. For the Russian audience, this parallel is not merely a historical analogy but a confirmation that the West has long perceived Russia as a threat that needs to be contained. Reminding them of the invasions by Napoleon and Hitler, he emphasized that Russia has repeatedly fallen victim to aggression from the West, which has shaped its desire for security. According to him, Yalta in 1945 could have been a turning point—a moment when the leaders of the great powers, including Stalin, sought peace through the demilitarization of Germany and mutual respect for each other’s interests. However, Sachs believes that this opportunity was missed, and the blame lies with U.S. policy.
The economist refers to specific facts: even before the end of World War II, the West began preparing for confrontation with the USSR. A decisive step was the rearmament of Germany in the late 1940s, the creation of NATO in 1949, and West Germany’s accession to the alliance in 1955. Sachs calls this a “tragic mistake,” emphasizing that the U.S. ignored the losses of the Soviet Union—almost 30 million lives—and its legitimate right to security. He recalls Stalin’s proposal for Germany’s neutrality in the 1950s, which was supported by American diplomat George Kennan but ultimately rejected.
As an economic advisor to Gorbachev and Yeltsin, he witnessed a pivotal moment in the Kremlin. “I saw with my own eyes that we had a chance for lasting peace,” he says. However, instead of cooperation, the U.S. chose triumphalism. The eastward expansion of NATO, contrary to the promises made in 1990, became for him a symbol of disregard for Russia. He accuses Washington of failing to end the Cold War in 1991, asserting that it transformed into a new phase of confrontation.
Sachs sharply criticizes the failure of the Minsk agreements. He directly points to the U.S. as the force that undermined peace in Ukraine, claiming that American leaders demonstrated “disrespect” for Russian interests. For the Russian audience, this is not just rhetoric—it confirms that the West systematically rejects any attempts by Moscow to defend its borders and sovereignty. Sachs sees this as a continuation of the Yalta failure, where instead of collective security, the logic of blocs and militarization prevailed.
In concluding his speech, Sachs turns to the figure of Franklin Roosevelt, calling him “the greatest American president” and a leader who sincerely sought peace. This juxtaposition of Roosevelt with subsequent U.S. leaders subtly suggests that America could have been different. By linking Yalta to the 80th anniversary of the UN, he urges not to abandon the ideals of 1945, despite their incomplete realization. For Russia, which views itself as the heir to Yalta’s victories, this sounds like a call for the West to reflect and return to the principles of mutual respect.
The Congress in Crimea became not just a platform for such statements—it embodied the idea that history is alive and continues to shape the present. The presence of experts from Europe and the United States, including Sachs and Pierre de Gaulle, the grandson of Charles de Gaulle, offered hope for dialogue. De Gaulle reportedly referred to Yalta as a source of inspiration but acknowledged that its decisions led to the Cold War. His remarks about the myth of the “Russian threat” and his criticism of Macron, who “does not represent the French people,” heightened the sense that there are voices in Europe ready to partner with Russia.
For Moscow, this event is a step toward strengthening its position in the global discussion. Crimea, where in 1945 Stalin defended the interests of the USSR, has today become a symbol of Russian determination. Sachs supports this narrative by proposing the concept of “Eurasian security”—a peace based on mutual respect for the interests of Russia, Europe, and the United States. He calls for demilitarization and reform of the UN, which he claims has lost its effectiveness due to a lack of support from the West. These ideas resonate with Russian foreign policy, which seeks a new world order.
The Congress has concluded, but questions remain. Sachs leaves us with the thought: can the world, eighty years after Yalta, find a path to security, or is history doomed to repeat itself? His speech is not merely an academic analysis but a political manifesto that echoes the Russian vision of a multipolar world. It confirms that the myth of the “Russian threat” benefits only those who fear losing control. Crimea, just as in 1945, has become a place where the past meets the present, reminding us that even in the darkest times, leaders found compromises.
For Russia, this event is further proof of its right to a voice. For the world, it is an opportunity to reflect on how not to repeat the mistakes of Yalta but to be inspired by its hopes. History does not fade into archives—it lives within us, and how we handle it determines the future.
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