Dangers of a self-fulfilling prophecy Historian Alexey Uvarov warns against looking for a ‘Franz Ferdinand moment’ in the Russian–Ukrainian war

In late September 2025, European officials told Politico that the Russian–Ukrainian war threatens a “Franz Ferdinand moment,” where a sudden escalation drags the entire continent into direct military confrontation. At Meduza’s request, historian Alexey Uvarov discusses the circumstances leading up to the outbreak of World War I — and whether they can be compared to today’s tensions in Ukraine.

Was war truly inevitable?  

Cambridge historian Christopher Clark, in his book The Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War in 1914, explored how contemporaries viewed the outbreak of World War I. He shows that participants often ascribed historical necessity to events only in retrospect. Observing events as they unfolded, they quickly moved from acknowledging facts to believing developments were predetermined.

This “normative force of the factual” creates a fatalistic illusion, erasing from memory the accidents, errors, choices, and diplomatic crossroads that existed before August 1914. Clark concludes that the war was not predestined and did not become inevitable at any single point. Rather, it resulted from a chain of decisions, miscalculations, ambitions, and escalation. The sense of inevitability arose only afterward, as participants tried retrospectively to make sense of it all.  

Clark notes that notions of war’s “inevitability” served an important psychological and political function: they allowed ruling elites to absolve themselves of personal responsibility for the decisions they made. If outcomes were foreordained, politics would cease to be a choice between different future scenarios and instead reduce to obeying the momentum of history.

By the spring of 1914, many governments had adopted this mindset. Rather than seeking diplomatic solutions, they accepted growing confrontation as a given. That abdication of responsibility facilitated and accelerated the path to war. Leaders made decisions believing their hands were already tied by destiny and the inevitable laws of international politics.

But by July–August 1914, surely everyone wanted war?  

No. When Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated in Sarajevo, it cannot be said definitively that every country wanted war and was consciously pursuing escalation.

After Franz Ferdinand’s assassination, Austria-Hungary spent nearly a month debating what to do next. Within the empire’s leadership, not everyone supported a military response. Hungarian Prime Minister István Tisza was particularly opposed to war. It wasn’t until July 23, 1914, that Austria-Hungary presented Serbia with a strict ultimatum.

The ultimatum’s ten demands included: a ban on anti-Austrian propaganda, the dissolution of nationalist organizations, the dismissal of officers implicated in Franz Ferdinand’s assassination, the arrest and punishment of the guilty, and most importantly, the admission of Austrian investigators and police to Serbian territory to participate in the investigation. It bears emphasis that Serbian officials, in fact, helped plan the conspiracy. It was the “Black Hand” organization, led by Serbian military intelligence head Dragutin Dimitrijević, that gave the assassins their weapons and helped them cross into Bosnia.

Despite the severity of the terms, Serbia’s leadership actually considered accepting the ultimatum. Prince Regent Alexander telegraphed Nicholas II, informing him that Serbia could not defend itself and was prepared to accept whatever provisions the Russian emperor deemed necessary. Until specific signals arrived from St. Petersburg, the Serbian government had no unified position. Some ministers urged resistance, while others counseled accepting the ultimatum’s demands for the sake of preserving peace.

Russia decided to act as Belgrade’s protector to maintain its influence in the Balkans and prevent Austria-Hungary and Germany from strengthening their position in the region. From July 26 to July 29, 1914, St. Petersburg considered partial mobilization as a means to pressure Vienna.

However, Russia’s military leadership, led by Chief of Staff Nikolai Yanushkevich and War Minister Vladimir Sukhomlinov, soon convinced Nicholas II that the empire would be vulnerable without full mobilization, especially if Germany entered the war. Consequently, on July 30, the Russian emperor signed the order for general mobilization.

Against this backdrop, leaders worked to defuse the crisis. Nicholas corresponded with German Kaiser Wilhelm II, proposing to freeze Russia’s mobilization if Austria-Hungary agreed not to attack Serbia. Upon receiving news of the mobilization, Germany formally protested to St. Petersburg, insisting that Nicholas rescind his order. At the same time, Berlin stressed that it did not seek war with Russia. Through these efforts, Wilhelm II was trying to keep the door open for talks.

St. Petersburg refused to back down. Military leaders argued that reversing course would be impractical and politically unfeasible, while Foreign Minister Sergey Sazonov convinced Nicholas that concessions would undermine Russia’s national prestige and security. As a result, mobilization continued, and Germany declared war on August 1, 1914.

To secure the western front, Berlin demanded that Paris remain neutral and provide guarantees that French forces would not support Russia. Simultaneously, Germany insisted on allowing its armies to march through Belgium and Luxembourg to secure its borders. France refused to provide such guarantees, citing its alliance obligations and the need to defend its own territory. Berlin responded with a preemptive strike: on August 3, Germany declared war on France, and in the early hours of August 4, German troops invaded Luxembourg and Belgium. The western offensive began before Russia had even finished mobilizing.  

Germany’s violation of Belgian neutrality settled Britain’s position. Until August 1914, London had no binding alliance obligations to France and Russia, oscillating between cautious non-intervention and support for the Entente. However, London had guaranteed Belgian independence in a treaty signed in 1839, and this agreement remained a crucial element of British foreign policy, 75 years later.

When news broke overnight on August 4 of the German invasion of Belgium and occupation of Luxembourg, Prime Minister Asquith’s cabinet viewed this as a flagrant violation of international treaty frameworks — and a threat to Britain’s control over the English Channel coast. Under pressure from public opinion and internal strategic calculations about preserving Europe’s balance of power, the government decided to enter the conflict. On the evening of August 4, 1914, Britain declared war on Germany.

How could any of these leaders have acted differently? Where’s the room for historical contingency?

The Ottoman Empire’s decline and the Balkan Wars exposed a key problem in European diplomacy — the absence of standardized frameworks for conflict resolution. At that time, there were no international organizations or stable multilateral mechanisms in place to deal with major crises.

Profound distrust among the empires — even within allied blocs — also propelled Europe toward war. In practice, the Entente (comprising France, Russia, and Great Britain) and the Triple Alliance (Germany, Austria-Hungary, and Italy) were neither monolithic nor transparent. Allies often doubted one another’s willingness to keep promises or act consistently.  

By 1914, Russia and Britain sustained a chilly relationship, but this precarity made neither empire any less ambitious. On the contrary, fears that their allies might evade treaty commitments during wartime led both parties to pursue increasingly assertive policies.

The Franco-Russian alliance was also plagued by doubts. Paris was not confident that Russia could withstand German pressure, while St. Petersburg feared that France might surrender or seek compromise. This too heightened bellicosity, with each side eager to project the dependability and strength needed to keep its allies. Within the governments themselves, the situation was volatile, as competing factions in foreign ministries and military departments fought among themselves, sending mixed signals abroad.

These dynamics made Europe’s alliance system extremely opaque, amplifying fears of isolation in the event of war. In the summer of 1914, in this atmosphere of mutual distrust, leaders rushed their decisions, preferring to risk war rather than try to buy time for diplomacy.

In this rush to war, were Europe’s leaders convinced any armed conflict would be quick and easy?

No, not entirely. It is often claimed that the belligerents of the First World War expected a “short war” and planned victory parades by the end of 1914, but that’s a considerable oversimplification. Even inside Germany’s high command, some warned that the impending war would be “a long, bloody slog,” and Chief of Staff Helmuth von Moltke recognized that it could drag on for years and bring unimaginable destruction.

British Prime Minister Asquith began writing about the coming “Armageddon” as early as July 1914, while French and Russian generals spoke of “a war of extermination” and even “the end of civilization.” Key figures understood the scale of the risk, but growing fears about Europe’s balance of power and the absence of international restraining mechanisms led them to believe there was no turning back.

How well do the events that led to World War I match up with what’s happening today?

The modern world has a far more developed and, crucially, much more transparent system of international diplomacy that still provides opportunities to resolve conflicts through negotiation. Yes, it failed to prevent Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, but many countries — from India and Pakistan to Armenia and Azerbaijan — use negotiations to end wars and prevent future armed conflicts.

Pre-war European politics was shaped by dynamic interactions between multiple empires of roughly equal military strength. Alliances could and did shift suddenly. Today, no European nation can confront Russia by itself — they are constrained by their membership in the E.U. and NATO.

The very comparison of today’s political situation with the eve of World War I and the expectation of a “Franz Ferdinand moment” suggests a self-fulfilling prophecy. Even after the archduke’s assassination and Austria-Hungary’s ultimatum to Serbia, European leaders had room to make different decisions. The fact that they navigated this crossroads precisely as they did was due to choices by specific politicians, not the inexorable path of history. 

Today’s political leaders bear the same responsibility for their behavior as tensions with Russia escalate. They are similarly accountable for the paths they are willing to pursue to prevent a direct conflict.