This is neither a political nor a moralising article. Rather, it is an invitation to engage in collective meditation on the terrible suffering of the war in Ukraine, which is close to home for many of us. The resource guiding this meditation is one that recent decades have ignored at an existential cost that we truly cannot afford: the Bible.
Due to its geographical proximity, the war in Ukraine has led us more clearly than other recent conflicts to a moral consensus. We acknowledge the aggression and recognise that the victims have names and surnames. We also acknowledge Russia’s political responsibility for the chaos created, and Vladimir Putin as the personification of this responsibility. This consensus is almost palpable—a paradox for our culture, which is accustomed to moral ambiguity. However, this is precisely why discussions about peace are much more uncomfortable than discussions about war.
As the conflict drags on, drawing innocent people into a vortex of loss, disability, and death, the idea of absolute justice begins to gain public legitimacy. “How can you negotiate with the aggressor?!” “Rebuild, but also punish!” Any compromise is denounced as treason because the only acceptable victory is one that morally redeems the victim completely and unreservedly. This is a normal reaction that expresses loyalty to the victims and refuses to normalise evil. However, when this loyalty competes with the moral imperative to reduce present suffering, problems arise.
Unfinished history
It is only natural to wonder what will happen if the fighting stops but the guilty party is not punished as severely as the crime warrants. Wouldn’t history be left unfinished without a satisfactory moral conclusion?
Unfortunately, given the extremely high ethical demands that war places on us, history rarely offers clean endings. Any realistic peace will inevitably leave some questions unanswered, some culprits unpunished, some losses irrecoverable, and some truths unspoken.
The inclination to seek answers in geopolitical analyses, international law, and historical precedents is natural and necessary. However, none of these approaches is sufficient because the issue at hand transcends these fields and belongs to the realm of morality: What do we do when we feel that the cessation of violence is not enough to achieve justice?
The ancient people of my time
I recently revisited the book of Jonah by reading a volume that successfully recovers the relevance of this ancient text with rare clarity. For the first time, I no longer view Jonah as a capricious prophet or an exotic character, but as a man driven by an intense sense of justice, so powerful that it excludes all other values. He is a man for whom the idea that evil could be stopped without being fully punished is unbearable.
I recognise Jonah in the people of my time. The activists. The militants. The people who, although they appear to flee for fear for their lives, actually flee because they are afraid that life as a whole will be governed by something other than their own understanding of justice. This is where the discomfort that the book provokes begins, especially when mirrored in a war such as the one in Ukraine.
An essential summary
The book of Jonah is one of the shortest books in the Bible. Paradoxically, it is also one of the most unsettling because its narrative does not provide the moral satisfaction that we instinctively expect from a story about evil and punishment.
God sends Jonah to Nineveh, the capital of Assyria—an empire known for its atrocious violence and abuse. Jonah is sent there to preach to the Ninevites and convince them to abandon their destructive path and return to God. It is an impossible mission from the prophet’s perspective, however, as he is terrified that he might be killed for daring to do such a thing and so he flees from the mission entrusted to him.
However, the ship intended to take him away from Nineveh is caught in a storm at sea. Having resigned himself to divine will, Jonah asks the sailors to throw him into the sea, knowing that the storm is caused by his presence on the ship. Just when he has given up all hope, he is swallowed by a huge fish, which saves him.
In the darkness of the fish’s belly, Jonah is overwhelmed with gratitude that God has spared his life, despite it seeming that God intended otherwise. After surviving for three days, he is vomited onto dry land, where God renews his missionary calling. This time, Jonah does exactly what he is called to do. To his shock, the mission bears fruit: the people of Nineveh, from animals to king, fast and repent throughout the city. God spares them. However, Jonah is furious: God had sent him to preach the destruction of the city, and now He has changed His mind!
Excessive certainty
From here, the story changes tone, shifting from themes such as fear, flight, and violence to Jonah’s inability to accept mercy. Jonah suffers from an excess of certainty. His understanding of justice is so clearly outlined, so coherent and complete, that it leaves no room for anything else. To him, any form of mercy appears not as a virtue, but as a dangerous weakness. Jonah’s morality is rigid and closed. This is precisely why he reacts so explosively: if life does not function according to this implacable sense of justice, then it is no longer worth living—so he asks God to end his life.
God does not punish him for this rebellion. He neither represses nor corrects it with a show of authority. Instead, God offers Jonah a disarmingly modest lesson: a plant that shades him, then withers. When Jonah mourns its loss, God poses the question that concludes the book and remains deliberately unanswered: If you are so hurt by the disappearance of a plant that provided you with comfort for a day, how can I not care about a whole city of people and animals caught up in a cycle of violence that they have just abandoned?
The book’s key message
This is where the uncomfortable lesson of Jonah’s book comes in. In the face of suffering and evil, God does not dispute the gravity of the situation, nor does He cancel His justice. But He refuses to make punishment the ultimate criterion of world order. The book forces us to accept that, at certain moments in history, God’s character of goodness is expressed by prioritising life, even when justice remains temporarily unfulfilled.
The key to the book is provided by the plant that withers. God does not ask Jonah whether Nineveh deserves mercy; He asks Jonah if he is willing to accept a form of goodness that is different to what he expected. This is a goodness that does not delegitimise moral indignation, but rather transcends it.
As for us, are we prepared to recognise goodness when it does not come in the form we deem just? But that may be precisely why Jonah’s story continues to trouble us—because it asks us how much we are willing to accept that goodness does not always equate to victory.
Geopolitical epilogue
After nearly four years of war, numerous rounds of diplomatic negotiations have been held under the United States’ mediation, involving delegations from Ukraine and Russia, and Washington as a repeated facilitator. The official aim is to establish a framework for a ceasefire and a lasting peace agreement.
Trilateral meetings were held in Abu Dhabi (UAE) in January, and further meetings are scheduled for early February 2026. Both Ukraine and the US have expressed their openness to “meaningful and constructive” discussions. Separate discussions between US envoys and Russian representatives (including in Florida and Paris) preceded or accompanied the formal meetings.
Key issues in the negotiations
Security guarantees for Ukraine and a draft agreement with the US, which is considered ready for signing but contested by the Russian side, are on the negotiating table. A temporary or permanent ceasefire before further political or electoral steps are taken is also being discussed.
However, the occupied territories remain the main bone of contention: Russia is demanding control over the Donbas region, which it still largely occupies, while Ukraine refuses to relinquish control over territories won on the battlefield and its sovereignty.
Russian officials reject conditions that are considered essential by Ukraine and its allies, such as the role of the EU or Western guarantees, as part of a peace agreement.
Assessing progress
Although the negotiations are often described as “constructive“, they have not yet produced a final agreement or a fully sustainable ceasefire. Some preliminary steps have been discussed, such as extended meetings between the United States and Russia, and proposals for broader plans, including a 28-point plan. However, these remain unfinished or contested.
