The question of who should pay for the reconstruction of Ukraine after Russia’s 2022 full-scale invasion sits at the intersection of law, geopolitics and global financial norms.Hend El-Sayed Hani writes.
The scale of destruction across Ukraine’s cities, industries and infrastructure is immense, with estimates of recovery costs reaching hundreds of billions of dollars. Many governments and international institutions argue that Russia, as the aggressor, should bear the financial burden. Yet the feasibility of compelling Moscow to do so is deeply contested.
This debate is often contrasted with the situation in Gaza, where repeated rounds of conflict have left enormous destruction, but where the international community has rarely demanded that Israel, which has carried out military operations causing widespread devastation, pay for reconstruction. Instead, foreign donors and humanitarian agencies typically take on those costs. Examining these cases side by side exposes inconsistencies in how financial responsibility for wartime destruction is assigned and enforced.
Ukraine’s reconstruction needs span nearly every sector: transport networks, energy systems, health facilities, schools, housing, water systems, industrial plants and cultural sites. Beyond the physical infrastructure, the country faces economic contraction, population displacement and long-term environmental damage.
At least theoretically, international law provides a framework for assigning responsibility. Under the UN Charter and customary law, a state that unlawfully invades another state is liable for reparations. Historical precedents exist, such as the reparations levy placed on Iraq after its 1990 invasion of Kuwait, administered through a UN Compensation Commission.
But unlike Iraq at that time, Russia is not a globally isolated state under comprehensive UN-mandated sanctions. It is a nuclear power and a permanent member of the UN Security Council with veto authority. That political reality means no global body can simply force Russia to pay reparations, no matter how many states deem such payments justified.
One strategy pursued by Western governments is the use—or partial use—of frozen Russian sovereign assets. Hundreds of billions of dollars belonging to Russia’s Central Bank have been frozen in Western financial systems. Some policymakers support transferring these assets, or the interest they generate, directly to Ukraine.
But this proposal sparks complex legal and economic debates. International law typically grants sovereign immunity to state assets held abroad. Confiscating them outright could be seen as violating foundational norms of state-to-state financial relations.
What is more, the financial system’s implications are serious. Putting legal concerns aside, critics argue that seizing sovereign assets would threaten the fundamental principles of financial stability by making foreign investors nervous about the security of their holdings. If states fear their reserves could be confiscated in times of geopolitical tension, many might diversify away from Western banks and currencies, potentially reshaping global finance.
Supporters of using the assets say that Russia’s invasion represents an extraordinary breach of international peace, justifying extraordinary measures. They argue that failing to impose a meaningful cost on Russia risks weakening deterrence against future acts of aggression. Still, even if the political will exists among some states, implementation remains deeply risky. Without unanimous legal justification or global consensus, redirecting Russian assets could trigger long-term financial and diplomatic collapse.
While Ukraine’s reconstruction funding debate revolves around whether and how Russia should pay, Gaza presents a contrasting pattern: despite extensive destruction from Israeli military operations, Israel has neither been compelled nor widely pressured to finance Gaza’s rebuilding. Whether after the 2008-2009 war, the 2014 war, or the 2023-2025 war, it has been international donors — Europe, the Gulf states, UN agencies — that provided much of the humanitarian aid and reconstruction financing.
Israel has deep security, political, and economic ties with the United States and key European states. These alliances make it politically unreasonable that major powers should require Israel to fund reconstruction, let alone attempt to enforce it. In contrast, Russia is viewed as a direct challenger to the Western order, making punitive measures against it more politically appealing.
The disconnect between expectations placed on Russia versus those placed on Israel reflects broader geopolitical realities rather than any consistent application of international principles. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine is widely seen as a clear-cut act of aggression. In Gaza, competing narratives complicate responsibility. Israel points to Hamas attacks and rockets; Palestinians point to decades of occupation, blockade and systemic inequality. Without consensus, enforcing financial responsibility becomes difficult.
Western governments possess enormous leverage over Russian overseas assets; conversely, seizing Israeli assets or pressuring Israel economically would be politically unacceptable to key powers. Ukraine has become a defining struggle for European security and the liberal international order. Gaza, by contrast, sits at the centre of a long and politically exhausting conflict where international actors often prioritise stability over legal consistency.
Achieving fairness in global reconstruction policy would require a standardised international mechanism to assess wartime damage and responsibility independent of major-power politics; clear rules on when sovereign assets can be used as countermeasures for aggression; enforceable pathways for reparations that do not depend on geopolitical alliances; and separation of humanitarian need from political calculation, ensuring civilians do not become dependent on donor fatigue.
Such a framework would, in theory, apply equally to Russia in Ukraine and Israel in Gaza. But building institutions that function independently of great-power influence remains one of the greatest challenges of the international system. The reconstruction of Ukraine highlights a strong international belief that aggressors should pay for the harm they cause. Yet the mechanisms for enforcing that principle are fragile, contested and deeply influenced by geopolitical realities. Gaza’s history of destruction and reconstruction demonstrates how inconsistent the application of these norms can be: despite extensive damage, Israel is rarely expected or compelled to fund rebuilding.
Ultimately, both cases reveal the gap between the ideals of international law and the political architecture of the world as it is. Until global institutions can impose responsibility regardless of a country’s alliances or power, the burden of reconstruction will continue to fall inconsistently, shaped less by law than by politics.
* A version of this article appears in print in the 27 November, 2025 edition of Al-Ahram Weekly
Short link: