Showing posts with label Vladimir Putin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vladimir Putin. Show all posts

Thursday, 20 August 2026

Why Does Europe Want War With Russia?

 

1.Poking the Bear

As Head of the Council for Foreign and Defence Policy, Sergei Alexandrovitch Karaganov is one of the most influential men in Russia. During his long and distinguished career, he has served as an advisor to both President Gorbachev and President Yeltsin and was one of the leaders of a group of hawks within the Kremlin who convinced President Putin to invade Ukraine in 2022, arguing that Russia had a moral duty to defend the human rights of Russians living outside the Russian Federation. As such, he is someone to whom the West should listen whenever he speaks, especially now. For he is currently saying that Russia should mount retaliatory strikes against factories in European countries that are supplying Ukraine with missiles and drones to strike deep inside Russia.

His argument is that President Putin’s patience and restraint with respect to NATO’s support for Ukraine is a mistake, in that the West has seen it as weakness, with the result that it has continually increased its support, believing that Russia will never retaliate because it fears an all out war with NATO. In fact, Karaganov goes even further in his criticism, arguing that, by allowing NATO to escalate its support for Ukraine, President Putin has actually made a pan-European war more likely. For when he is finally forced to say ‘enough’, which, at some point, Karaganov argues, he surely will be, Europe will be too far up the escalation ladder to turn back. He therefore advocates launching retaliatory strikes against factories in Britain and Germany now, when European leaders would have to be insane to risk precipitating a war which, in their current state of readiness, they could not possibly win.

In this regard, consider the British army, for instance, which, as of April 2026, comprised just 74,370 men, only about half of whom were actually combat troops, the rest being cooks, drivers, mechanics, medics and so on. Admittedly, the Russian army has about the same proportion of combat troops to others, but it currently stands at around 1,350,000 men. True, only about 750,000 of them are deployed in the Ukrainian theatre of operations at any one time, but this is largely because the Russians have a policy of regularly rotating units in and out of the front line so as to avoid burn out, something which would be far more difficult for any expeditionary force assembled by the European coalition of the willing, which would also have to contend with much longer supply lines, Kiev being 1,362 miles from London.

More to the point, the Russians know how to fight the kind of war currently being fought in Ukraine, where drones and satellite based ISR systems (Intelligence, Surveillance and Reconnaissance) have made tanks and other armoured vehicles more or less obsolete and where the largest assault unit one can safely assemble consists of just three men. For contrary to what is often reported in the western media, the Russians don’t fight in mass wave formations, which would be suicidal. They fight slowly and methodically in three man teams, backed up by six man support units, which mostly consists of drone operators: one surveilling the target of the assault, another looking out for enemy drones, and another searching for enemy drone operators. It is why it has taken them so long to capture each of the fortified cities to which they have laid siege. For by the time the assault teams move in, after months of shelling, most of these cities have been reduced to piles of rubble, with no trees left standing to provide the assault units with cover from enemy drones.

Of course it will be argued that most NATO countries have observers embedded inside Ukrainian units precisely to learn these latest battlefield tactics. But this is not the same as having full tactical teams working together to learn from actual experience.

Another argument one might hear is that the Europeans would not necessarily have to use ground troops to respond to Russian retaliatory assaults on European factories but could, instead, rely on an ariel response. Given the fact that no European country has any hypersonic missiles, however, or many ballistic missiles of any type capable of inflicting significant damage on Russia, and that France and Britain have already given most of their SCALP and Storm Shadow cruise missiles to Ukraine, it is hard to see Europe winning any kind of missile exchange.

Karaganov is therefore perfectly correct when he says that European leaders would have to be insane to respond militarily to Russian retaliatory strikes against them. What’s more, most European leaders clearly know this. It’s why most of them have pledged to increase their defence spending to 5% of GDP by 2035, although most of them will not achieve this target for the simple reason that many of them, including Britain and France, are already bankrupt. The question this raises, therefore, is why President Putin is so reluctant to pursue the course of action Karaganov advocates.

One possible answer, of course, is that he fears that this would trigger Article 5 of the NATO treaty, thereby dragging the USA into the conflict. While almost certainly influencing his calculations to some extent, however, there are at least two good reasons why this consideration might not be the decisive factor. For not only are Europe’s NATO members supplying Ukraine with drones to strike deep inside Russia, but some of them are even flying planes over the Baltic and Baltic States to detect holes in Russia’s mobile radar defence network and guide the Ukrainian drones through them, making them co-belligerents under the UN Charter, against whom Russia is perfectly entitled to defend itself. With Europe thus technically being the aggressors in any conflict between itself and Russia, this therefore raises the question as to whether retaliatory strikes against European targets by Russia would actually trigger Article 5 of the NATO Treaty and whether, even if it did, the USA would feel obliged to come to Europe’s aid and risk precipitating World War III.

A more convincing argument as to why Putin has so far resisted Karaganov’s advice, therefore, is that he simply believes that keeping the war contained within Ukraine’s borders is in Russia’s best interest, especially as it is currently entering its final phase. I say this because there are now only two fortress cities in the Donbas left to be captured, Slovyansk and Kramatorsk. Once these fall, which, like Bakhmut, Avdiivka, Pokrovsk and Kostiantynivka, they surely will, there will then be nothing but open grassland between the Russians and the Dnieper River, at which point the Ukrainian government will have no choice but to sue for peace on Russia’s terms or risk losing everything. The last thing Putin wants to do at this stage, therefore, is draw the Europeans into the conflict, which, in all probability, would not only delay a final negotiated settlement, but would very probably entitle them to a seat at the negotiating table where they would almost certainly muddy the waters with their own agenda.

The problem he has, however, is that, while the war on the ground is thus progressing as planned, Ukraine’s drone and missile strikes inside Russia are clearly causing him a political headache, not with the Russian people as a whole, with whom he still has an approval rating of over 70% – even after four and a half years of war – but with people like Karaganov and possibly others inside the Kremlin, which ought to make European leaders review their strategy at the very least least.

I say this because one of the main reasons Putin has managed to stay in power for over twenty-six years is his very collegial style of leadership. Although the final decision is always his, he often has over twenty meetings a day, not just to make sure that he is properly briefed, but to gather other people’s opinions and build a consensus. It’s why his closest colleagues, such as Sergei Lavrov and Dmitri Medvedev, have stayed with him so long: because they feel part of a team. If Putin feels that the mood in the Kremlin is swinging in Karaganov’s direction, therefore, especially if long time supporters like Lavrov and Medvedev start leaning in that direction – as some people say they already are – it will be very difficult for him not to go along with them.

The question this raises, therefore, is whether European leaders are fully aware of this. For while they may believe that Russia will not retaliate against their aggression for fear of triggering a broader conflict, by continuing to provoke the Russians the way they have been doing, they may well be driving Putin into Karaganov’s camp, which, given that they have no adequate military response to Russian retaliatory strikes is an enormous risk.

This then raises the further question as to why they are actually indulging in this nonsense at all. And the most obvious answer, of course, is that they simply believe their own propaganda. They really do believe that Russia is weak: that the Russian economy is about to collapse, that the Russian army has lost more than a million men and that if Ukraine can just apply a little more pressure, the Russian people will rise up and either remove Putin from office or force him to settle on Europe’s terms. The problem with this answer, however, is that, while Russia’s claimed economic weakness and military losses may be the official line coming out of most European governments, unless their intelligence services are merely telling them what they want hear, there must be at least some people in these governments who are aware of the truth and of the risk they are therefore running.

If they are aware of the risk, however, this would then imply that they think it worth taking, which would further imply that they still actually believe that Ukrainian drone strikes will have the desired effect, which not only betrays a certain cognitive dissonance but demonstrates a complete lack of understanding of Russia, the Russian people and, indeed, of Vladimir Putin himself.

2.The West’s Most Common Misconceptions about Russia

This lack of understanding of all things Russian is partly, one suspects, the result of sheer ignorance, which partly stems from the fact that very few of our politicians have ever actually been to Russia and have apparently never read the reports of those who have. What makes this even worse, however, is the fact that, when it comes to Russia, the West seems totally unable to rid itself of a number of common prejudices or misconceptions, the first of which is the belief that today’s Russian Federation is really no different from the Soviet Union and that Vladimir Putin is as much a tyrannical dictator as Stalin, ruling Russia through fear and the FSB.

In fact, the story we constantly tell ourselves about Russia is more or less the same as the narrative which the Americans have been spinning about Iran for the last forty-seven years, in which the Iranian leadership is portrayed as a despotic theocracy which rules Iran through the ruthless oppression of the IRGC, and in which the Iranian people, if given the chance, would rise up, remove this despicable regime and embrace western style democracy. The only difference between the two narratives is that, in the case of Iran, the popular uprising was supposed to take place as soon as the regime’s leadership had been assassinated, whereas, in the case of Russia, it is believed that the revolution can be precipitated by making the Russian people more angry with Putin for the daily drone strikes against apartment buildings, buses and schools than they are with the West.

Of course, neither of these uprisings has or will ever occur, not only because neither of the governments concerned are the evil regimes which the West depicts them as being, but because their respective leaders are actually much loved. In fact, most Russians regard Vladimir Putin as something of a saviour, having turned Russia around after the economic collapse of the 1990s, in which a small number of oligarchs may have made billions of dollars by buying up former states assets for just 1% of their true worth, but where most ordinary Russians actually struggled to find enough to eat, resulting in millions of premature deaths due to dietary related diseases and a fall of five years in average life expectancy.

If it hadn’t been for President Putin, in fact, the whole country might easily have disintegrated into a patchwork of fiefdoms ruled by the above mentioned oligarchs and a loose network of organised criminal gangs, generally known as the Russian mafia. Not only did he crack down with brutal efficiency on this so-called mafia, however, but by making an example of a man called Mikhail Khordorkovsky, who was thought to be worth $50 billion at the time, he also forced those oligarchs who had not already fled to London to pay back some of their ill-gotten gains or face prosecution and imprisonment. Even more importantly, he cleaned up the corruption that was then endemic within both government and a number of very large corporations such as Gazprom, which were still at least partially owned by the state, enabling him to rebuild Russia’s broken economy around its huge natural resources and take Russia from being an economic basket-case to being one of the richest countries in the world.

Because the rouble fluctuates enormously on international currency markets and is significantly undervalued at best, it is unfortunately very difficult to calculate Russia’s actual GDP with any degree of accuracy. The best way to do it, in fact, is by using Purchasing Power Parity (PPP), which compares how much a rouble will buy in Russia with how much a dollar buys in the USA. This, of course, is only indicative of how wealthy Russians are today but it is generally agreed that, in 2025, Russia had the fourth largest economy in the world with a per capita annual income of $52,479.

Nor has this been significantly affected by sanctions. In fact, Russia’s inability to buy US and European components for its various manufacturing industries has meant that many Russian companies have been able to expand significantly by producing substitute parts inside Russia. Along with increased military expenditure, in fact, this has produced a boom in Russia’s manufacturing sector, to which, at one point, the Russian central bank had to respond by increasing interest rates to over 20% in order to prevent overheating. Even with interests rates still at 14.25%, however, Russians are still immeasurably better off than they were 25 years ago, making it hardly surprising, therefore, that President Putin has won five presidential elections, the latest, in 2024, with 88% of the vote on an 87% turnout.

Of course, people in the West say that this is a sure sign that Russian democracy is a sham and that the elections are rigged. After all, no one wins an honest election with 88% of the vote. But of the five political parties represented in the State Duma – excluding Vladimir Putin’s United Russia party – not one of them has ever complained about election fraud, not even the Russian Communist Party, which is still the second largest party in the country.

Of course, it will be said that this is because they are being censored or silenced in some way. But there is absolutely no evidence of this. Indeed, the fact that Sergei Karaganov can write articles and give interviews on Russian television which are openly critical of President Putin strongly suggests that Russia enjoys a substantial degree of free speech. Recent visitors to Russia all say, in fact, that people openly discuss President Putin’s conduct of the war and that public opinion has been gradually drifting towards Karaganov’s harder line position. This doesn’t mean, however, that anyone is actually suggesting that Putin be removed from office.

More to the point, if he were to be ousted from power, given the current mood in the country, his successor would almost certainly be Dmitri Medvedev, who, while completely loyal to Putin, is very much a hard liner, which rather undermines the second most popular belief the West seems to entertain about the possible effects of drone strikes inside Russia: that even if they do not precipitate a popular uprising, they will heap enough political pressure on Putin that he will be forced to accept Europe’s terms for a peace settlement.

The problem with this argument, however, is that it not only fails reflect the anger most Russians feel with respect to random drone strikes against civilian targets, but it also demonstrates a complete lack of any understanding of the issues for which Russia went to war in the first place and with which the vast majority of Russians totally agree. For, like Karaganov, they not only believe that Russia has a moral duty to defend the human rights of Russians living outside the Russian Federation, especially the 14 million Russians who found themselves trapped inside the borders of Ukraine when it was given its independence in 1991, but they also believe that a NATO aligned Ukraine would be an existential threat to Russia, which no Russian could accept.

This is because, were Ukraine to join NATO, the USA would then be able to install intermediate range cruise and ballistic missiles on its border, just five minutes flying time from Moscow – one minute less than it would have taken a Soviet intermediate range missile to reach Washington from Cuba in 1962 – giving NATO a pre-emptive first strike capability, something which Russia could never allow. Indeed, were this ever to happen, Russia would have no choice but to launch its own pre-emptive first strike against the US missiles bases on the Ukrainian border, thereby very probably precipitating World War III: something which the Russians have been trying to explain to NATO leaders since 2008 without seeming to make them understand.

As a result, the West has consistently refused to include clauses enshrining Ukraine’s neutrality in any proposed peace treaty. Nor does it accept that the desire of most Russians to protect the rights of Russians living within Ukraine’s 1991 borders was a sufficient reason for going to war. For that would be to accept that Russia had just cause for its invasion in 2022, which would undermine the West’s third and most stubborn false belief about Russia and Vladimir Putin, in particular: that the Russian President instigated an entirely unprovoked war against Ukraine in order to extend Russia’s territorial possessions and reconstitute the old Soviet Empire.

Not only is there no evidence for this, however, but it doesn’t make any sense. For geographically, Russia is by far the largest country in the world, covering 17.1 million square kilometres and spanning eleven time zones. Yet it only has a population of 146 million people, making it one of the most sparsely populated countries in the world. Even more importantly, it has the world’s greatest store of natural resources, not only making it more or less self-sufficient in just about everything but the world’s largest exporter of commodities, from oil and gas to wheat and sunflower oil. What this means, therefore, is that it not only does not need more territory to house its population but it does not need anyone else’s natural resources to provide it with things it lacks.

In fact, with respect to Europe, it is the other way round, with Europe having long coveted Russia’s natural resources. It’s why, apart from the first world war, which was fought on the basis of alliances and miscalculations which everyone very quickly realised was a disastrous mistake, all the other wars fought between Europe and Russia in the modern era have either been fought to acquire Russia’s natural resources or to prevent the Russians trading them on world markets, making it hardly surprising, therefore, that tensions first began to arise between Europe and Russia when Catherine the Great captured Crimea from the Ottoman Empire in the late 18th century, thereby opening up the Black Sea, the Aegean and the Mediterranean to Russian trade. For until then, its only trading outlet to the west had been through St. Petersburg on the Baltic, which is ice bound for half the year and thus prevented Russia from seriously competing with the two great mercantilist powers of the period, Britain and France. Catherine the Great’s capture of Crimea and, indeed, all the Black Sea coast up to Romanian border was thus one of the greatest strategic achievements in Russian history and shook both Britain and France to the core.

The first of the two to respond to this was France under Napoleon Bonaparte, who, in 1812, in the middle of what was already a trade war with Britain, mounted the disastrous invasion of Russia which ultimately led to his downfall. This made it somewhat inevitable, therefore, that the next time either of them tried to contain or limit Russia’s trading reach, they actually did it together and stayed well away from Moscow, concentrating their attention instead on the root cause of the problem, Crimea, which they invaded in 1853 with the principal intention of returning it to the Ottomans. While the military campaign was largely successful, however, the strategic objective was entirely thwarted by the fact that, by then, the Ottoman Empire was in steep decline and could never hope to reoccupy let alone rule the territories captured by its allies, not least because, also by then, the population of the whole Black Sea coastline, from Crimea to Odessa, was almost entirely Russian, as it is today.

It was Europe’s third invasion of Russia, however, that was the most disastrous for all concerned. This, of course, was the German invasion of 1941, which was unashamedly undertaken both to provide more ‘living space’ for the German population, and to take control Russia’s oil fields and its vast swathes of agricultural land. In fact, so callously indifferent to the needs and interests of the native population was this invasion that, fearing some kind of moral reckoning, Europeans today have every right to regard a resurgent Russia as an existential threat. For although we may reason that it was only Nazi Germany, not Europe as a whole, which visited such terrors on the Russian people during the 1940s, killing 27 million of them, our fear and hatred of the subhuman eastern hordes which underpinned the Nazi philosophy is almost certainly part of a European collective unconscious which, in turn, is almost certainly one of the root causes of our current Russophobia.

The irony is, of course, that Vladimir Putin, himself, was born and raised in St. Petersburg, in my opinion one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, and spent much of his early career in Germany, which he greatly admired. He then spent his first three presidential terms trying to forge closer ties with Europe and formed a close friendship with Angela Merkel, by whom he felt personally betrayed over the Minsk II agreement.

If Putin’s personal affinity with Europe, Russia’s massive size and its huge store of natural resources were not enough to persuade the Russian President not to expand its territory westward, however, there is one further consideration that is an absolute clincher. This is the fact that Russia already has the most ethnically and culturally diverse population in the world, speaking more than a hundred different languages, twenty-five of which are official languages. Of course, it could be argued that, having so much experience ruling over such a diverse empire is the perfect preparation for ruling over one that is even bigger and more diverse. But the biggest and most difficult job any Russian President has – one might almost say the biggest nightmare any Russian President has – is trying to keep all these ethnically and culturally diverse people happy and happily part of the Russian Federation.

This, of course, is partly achieved through the Russian Federation’s constitution, which gives each of the its 21 republics a substantial degree of autonomy while providing them with the very considerable benefits of being part of a free trade block which not only uses the same currency but is more or less self-sufficient, such that that most of the trade of most of the republics is carried out within the federation. As such, it is more or less what the European Union set out to be, only better. For while both the Russian Federation and the EU combine a free trade area with a common currency, the Russian Federation is far more democratic, with political institutions which significantly help unite its diverse populations. I say this because, while each republic has its own constitution and autonomous assembly, all Russians throughout the Federation vote for the President and the Federal Assembly in Moscow, the lower house of which is the State Duma. In contrast, no one votes for the European Commission or its President and most Europeans do not identify with them, unlike most Russians who most certainly identify with their President and have almost unanimously voted for him on five occasions.

For all its benefits and constitutional coherence, however, keeping the Russian Federation together is still a monumental task, not least because respecting and protecting the rights and interests of the individual republics while governing the Federation for the good of all is always a delicate balancing act. This was demonstrated most starkly in the case of Chechnya, to which President Putin made numerous personal visits in order to rebuild trust and bring about reconciliation after the two Chechen wars. The last thing he now wants to do, therefore, is force millions of Poles, Hungarians, Czechs, Slovaks, Romanians, Lithuanians, Latvians and Estonians to be part of an empire to which they do not wish to belong and which they will resist with endless insurgencies and terrorist attacks, tying up millions of Russian troops for years, if not decades, at enormous cost but absolutely no benefit to Russia.

He doesn’t even want to take the whole of Ukraine, especially not the western part where the majority Ukrainian population absolutely hates Russians. In fact, during Ukraine’s first attempt to gain independence from the Soviet Union – during the second world war – the Ukrainians actually sided with the Germans, forming two whole Waffen SS divisions, which set about ethnically cleansing Ukraine’s non-Ukrainian populations, killing tens of thousands of Poles in and around Lvov in the west and hundreds of thousands of Russians in Luhansk and Donetsk, the very provinces in eastern Ukraine where the current war is being fought, and where the constant bombardment of Russian towns and cities by the Ukrainian army between 2014 and 2021 finally convinced President Putin to intervene in order to prevent history repeating itself.

What’s more, the Russians laid all this out in the peace proposals they put forward in June 2024 and which served as the basis for the peace talks between President Putin and President Trump in Alaska in August 2025. And yet European governments and their associated media still persist in misrepresenting both Russia’s actions and intentions, not just with respect to Ukraine but Europe as whole, which therefore raises the question as to why.

3.The Three Main Reasons Why Europe Misrepresents Russia

Apart from our deep-seated prejudices, I believe that there are also three main political reasons why Europe is currently so intent on grossly misrepresenting Russia, the first of which stems from the fact that, for most of its recent history – stretching back to at least the 15th century – Europe has regarded itself as the centre of the world. Europeans have always known that other countries existed, of course, but they were far away, uncivilised and either constituted a threat, against which they had to defend themselves, or an opportunity which they could exploit. Either way, they were essentially peripheral. It was Europe that really mattered. For it was Europe that was home to the rival powers which contended with each other, not just for European domination but, in an age of imperial expansion and colonisation, for domination of the world.

All this ended, however, in the 20th century, when Europe squandered the accumulated wealth of centuries on two world wars, allowing two new superpowers to emerge: America and the Soviet Union. Not that this was initially a problem of course. For as long as the two were in opposition, the Americans needed allies in Europe to ensure that it was in Europe, rather the USA, that any war would be fought. In fact, it has been said that the Americans intentionally sold Europe on the concept of NATO as a defensive alliance so as to make it seem as if they were helping to defend Europe when what they were actually doing was occupying it and using it as a fortress.

The problems only began when the Soviet Union collapsed, leaving the USA as the sole global hegemon, to which Europe was now more or less attached as a collection of vassal states, a position which European leaders cravenly accepted in the mistaken belief that this new world order would last forever and that it was better to sit at the king’s table, even in a position of subordination, than choose the wrong side of history and be left out in the cold. What they hadn’t counted on, of course, was that, under the stewardship of President Putin, the Russian Federation would not only experience a miraculous resurgence but would be joined by China in a completely new multipolar world. What they also hadn’t anticipated was that, having squandered its own birthright on a succession of endless wars aimed at enforcing its global hegemony, the USA would now also be in terminal decline.

Given that NATO cannot operate as an integrated organisation without US command and control centres, logistical support and its satellite based ISR systems, this therefore places Europe in a new and extremely perilous position, in which it could find itself without a unified defence, leaving each of its national armies to fend for themselves. Worse still, it presents once great powers, such as Britain and France, with the sobering prospect of being alone, small and irrelevant on the world stage, something which European leaders are so desperate to avoid that they are currently banding together in an unprecedented way to form the so-called coalition of the willing, which they hope will become a fourth global superpower.

The problem with this, however, is that the one European institution around which this power centre could coalesce, the EU, was not designed for this purpose. It was designed to make the individual nation states of Europe economically dependent on each other so that they would not start another European war, not to bind them together in a political union of the kind that would allow them to create a European army under a unified command. For that, the EU would have to actually become a federal state, much like the Russian Federation, with a democratically elected government and legislature.

Of course, this is precisely what a lot people in Brussels, as well as quite a few national leaders, would like to see happen. There are others, however, who do not want to see the interests of their own sovereign nation states subordinated to a Federal Europe, not least because they know that their populations identify far more closely with their own countries and fellow countrymen than they do with the far more abstract concept of Europe and expect their democratically elected leaders to prioritise their needs and interests ahead of the geopolitical obsessions of the Brussels elites. Indeed, it is why those elites are currently working tirelessly to remove nationalist politicians like Hungary’s Victor Orban from office or, like Romania’s Călin Georgescu, prevent them from being elected in the first place, demonising them as ‘far right’ and smearing them as ‘Putin’s poodles’ for wanting to continue buying cheap Russian gas. What is truly remarkable about this campaign, however, is the way in which it completely inverts reality by making it seem as if it is nationalist Russia that is the real threat to the nation states of Europe, not the European Federalist project itself.

The main reason why so many European heads of government go along with deceit, however, is not just the way in which it elevates them onto the world stage and makes them feel relevant, but the way in which it helps them avoid their own domestic problems, which, in the current political climate, can seem almost insoluble.

Take, for instance, the problem of falling birth rates, which may not seem that serious but is actually the problem from which many other problems stem. This is because most, if not all European state pensions and public sector pension schemes are not what most people think they are. For most people think they are like private pensions: funds into which they pay part of their earnings throughout their working lives and which slowly accumulate, earning interest, to provide them with a pot of money from which they can draw down a pension when they retire. But state pensions are not like this at all. They are actually Ponzi schemes, in which the pensions of current pensioners are paid directly out of the contributions of current workers, with no money being saved or accumulated. This means that they are dependent on there being more people paying contributions into the scheme than pensioners taking money out of it. When people are living longer, however, and fewer people are being born to join the work force, the whole pyramid gets turned on its head and is unsustainable.

Importantly, the problem of declining birthrates is not intrinsically insoluble. Russia, in fact, has an even bigger problem in this regard than Europe. For when the Russian economy collapsed in the 1990s, as I mentioned earlier, people more or less stopped having children. This means that there are now fewer people in their 30s – the decade in most people’s lives when they would normally be having families – than would otherwise be the case, thus threatening to repeat the cycle. In fact, President Putin regards the problem as so grave that he has been personally involved in trying to solve it, not only by restructuring the tax system so as to give more tax allowances to families with more children but by providing grants to families so that women can take more time off work to have more children. He has also been working with the Russian Orthodox Church to promote a more family oriented culture, which, given that most Russians are Church members, has had a very positive effect.

In Europe, however, especially in countries like Britain, where the number of practising Christians is at an all time low and is largely confined to older people – a demographic that is not going to help very much – trying to change the culture in order to promote family life is a much more difficult prospect. Even more significantly, paying women to stay at home to have children would be seen as anti-feminist and any politician who suggested it would be labelled as a far right dinosaur if not an outright fascist, a bit like Vladimir Putin in fact.

So what do we do instead to solve our Ponzi pension scheme problem? We encourage more immigration, of course! The problem with this, however, is that most immigrants coming to Europe do so because they are fleeing war-torn Africa or the Middle East and do not have the education or training necessary to contribute very much to the economy. Most do not even speak the language of their destination countries. While they do not therefore contribute significantly to the funds available for paying pensions, they do, however, place a massive strain on the destination country’s resources and infrastructure.

Take, for instance, the water industry, which, in Britain, is constantly under attack in the media for its lack of investment, both in the supply fresh water and in sewage plants. The problem, however, is not underinvestment, but the rate of population growth and the physical limits to the speed at which investments can be made. In Britain, for instance, the population is currently growing by around a million people every year, for whom around 250,000 additional homes are needed, each of which consumes an extra 550 litres of water per day. This means that, every year, an extra 50 billion litres of fresh water is required, which is more or less the same as the amount of water contained in the average size reservoir. Because reservoirs are constantly refilled as water is pumped out them, this doesn’t mean, of course, that one has to build a new reservoir every year. One also has to take into account the rate of throughput. But if the population of a country is constantly growing, one does have to constantly build new reservoirs, which, in a country like Britain, is not that easy.

First, one has to find a suitable location, which should ideally be a valley with a river running through it. Then one has to overcome environmental objections to radically transforming a large area of countryside, acquire the land and build a dam. Because most of the most suitable locations for reservoirs are in upland regions, far away from built up areas, dozens if not hundreds of miles of mains pipes then have to be laid in order to transport the water to where it is needed. Building a new reservoir, therefore, is not just a multi-billion pound investment; it is a massive engineering project which, from planning to completion, can take more than ten years. Instead of blaming our water companies for any inadequacies in our water supply, therefore, we should be blaming the government for not limiting immigration to that which the country’s infrastructure can support.

Water supply, moreover, is only one part of that infrastructure. In Britain, for instance, our roads are not just noticeably more congested than they have ever been before but are visibly crumbling due to all the heavy goods vehicles using them, while both our schools and hospitals are overcrowded and understaffed. Nor is this again simply due to a lack of capital investment. For whether it be road repair or health care, it takes time to increase the capacity of almost any service. The number of staff required has to be projected on the basis of estimated future need and budgets for their remuneration agreed, often against stiff opposition. The staff then have to be recruited and trained which can take years, by which time, with uncontrolled immigration, it will be realised that the numbers needed were originally grossly underestimated, forcing politicians to throw even more money at the problem in an attempt to play catch-uptake. Faced with such seemingly intractable problems, it is hardly any wonder, therefore, that instead of even trying to deal with them, our leaders prefer to take on the role of international statesmen and immerse themselves in foreign policy issues, which, in contrast, seem that much simpler and easier to solve, especially if one can narrow the issues down to a single external threat.

What’s more, blaming Russia for all our problems has the additional advantage of potentially solving many European countries’ most pressing domestic problem: that of being effectively bankrupt with a stagnant or actually shrinking economy. For by depicting Russia as a threat, both necessitating and justifying greater military expenditure, many European leaders, especially German Chancellor Friedrich Merz, seem to have convinced themselves that this will provide precisely the economic stimulus their economies require. After all, it worked for Nazi Germany, where remilitarisation effectively dragged the economy out of the post-war depression of the 1920s. What European leaders who argue in favour of increase defence spending conveniently forget, however, is that the Nazis funded their military expenditure by demonising a certain section of the German population, herding them into concentration camps and confiscating their wealth.

The irony, of course, is that one of the few European countries that wouldn’t have to do something like this today in order to fund additional military spending is Germany, which has a debt to GDP ratio of just 57.7% and which, unlike the UK, which has a debt to GDP ratio of 110.08%, therefore has plenty of headroom for more borrowing. Indeed, it is how Friedrich Merz is able to argue so strongly for rearmament, his principal motivation being Germany’s current state of rapid deindustrialisation, for which the repurposing of disused Volkswagen plants to produce tanks and armoured cars or even drones and missiles would seem like the perfect solution. The problem, however, is that in order to convince the German public of the necessity of this additional deficit spending he first has to convince them that Russia is a threat, with the danger, of course, that this becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy and that the bandwagon taking us to war becomes unstoppable.

4.Reasons for Optimism

If the desire of European leaders to have relevance on the world stage, avoid insoluble problems at home or solve them through rearmament are thus seemingly driving us to war, there are, however, a number of factors which may act against this.

The first is the very low military base from which most European countries are starting the rearmament process. The well-known military and geopolitical commentator, Col. Douglas MacGregor, has pointed out on more than one occasion that, after Vietnam, it took the US military ten years to rebuild and restructure itself so as to be fit to fight the First Gulf War. More recently, former Ukrainian Chief of Staff, General Valerii Zaluzhnyi, has said that, even with US involvement, it would take NATO twelve years to develop the competencies required to take on the current Russian army. The chances of a purely European army being fit to fight the Russians before 2038 are thus very remote and, by then, it is to be hoped that the war in Ukraine will be long over and a peaceful solution for future cohabitation found.

Of course, this doesn’t entirely rule out the possibility of European leaders being so incompetent and ill-informed that they order their military to undertake some gross act of folly. After all, in February this year, Donald Trump ordered the US military to overthrow of the Iranian government when anyone with any knowledge of Iran could have told him that, with the resources available, this was impossible.

Fortunately, there are at least two other reasons why a war with Russia is unlikely. The first is that, for various reasons, most of the people of Europe are unlikely to be willing to fight in it. Europe’s immigrant populations, for instance, who have no real allegiance to their adopted countries, would be particularly unlikely to fight for them, even if they were attacked. After all, they could simply move somewhere else. In contrast, Europe’s indigenous populations would probably fight for their countries in a defensive capacity, but are unlikely to join an offensive war initiated by ‘Europe’, especially if they felt that their governments were putting the interests of this abstract concept ahead of their own nation state. In some instances, one can even imagine them turning on their government in what could end up being a revolution or civil war.

The most important reason why war with Russia is unlikely, however, is that the political tide in Europe might actually be turning. Sir Kier Starmer, who was one of the leaders of the coalition of the willing and who spent more time working on behalf of Ukraine than he ever did on Britain’s domestic problems, was cast out by his own party at least partly for this very reason. What’s more, things are looking just as bad for Emmanuel Macron in France, who is likely to be replaced by Marine Le Pen in next year’s presidential election, and Friedrich Merz, who is unlikely to even make it to the next German election in 2029, the most likely winners of which are the AfD (Alternative für Deutschland), whose leader’s first priority will be to go to Moscow, restore relations with Russia, volunteer to pay to repair the two Nord Stream pipelines and thus get cheap Russian gas flowing again so as to rebuild Germany’s shattered industry.

Indeed, it’s probably the main reason why President Putin has so far resisted taking Sergei Karaganov’s advice to strike European factories building missiles and drones for Ukraine. For he knows that, eventually, the electorates of Europe will get tired of the feckless grifters who are currently in power and replace them with serious, responsible leaders who will put the interests of their nation states and their own people first. And when they do so, what Putin most wants is to be able to do business with these new leaders without the background of war getting in the way. Indeed, this would be the best outcome for both Europe and Russia. We can only hope, therefore, that no one does anything stupid in the meantime.















Sunday, 4 May 2025

Ending the War in Ukraine

 

1.    Fear of Appeasement

In September 1938, the then British Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, led a delegation to Munich to negotiate a peace treaty with Adolf Hitler, in which the German-speaking Sudetenland region of Czechoslovakia was ceded to Germany. This act of ‘appeasement’, as it is always called, has since been almost universally ridiculed as an act of cowardice and folly in that, in the long term, Hitler had no intention of honouring his end of the bargain. Indeed, it was only a year later that the Germans invaded Poland. There is another school of thought, however, promoted by Robert Harris in his 2017 novel ‘Munich’, which holds that Chamberlain knew exactly what he was doing and that he deliberately sacrificed both his reputation and career in order to buy Britain another year in which to prepare for war. As such, his act could therefore be regarded, not just as a prime example of pragmatic ‘realpolitik’, but as one of the most selfless and noble acts in British history.

Unfortunately, that is not the way we British see it, having generally adopted the rather more Churchillian view that one should never appease tyrants and dictators in that, to do so, only encourages them to demand even more. So it is that, for the last three and a half years, we have steadfastly adhered to the principle that we must never give in to the demands of Vladimir Putin and the Russians with respect to Ukraine, even though, had we known what these demands were and fully understood the Russians’ reasons for making them, we would probably have agreed with them.

After all, the first of Russia’s two main demands, that Ukraine remain neutral – as is actually stipulated in its constitution – is as much in our interests as it is in those of the Russians. For were Ukraine to join NATO, it is at least possible and, indeed, highly probable that the Americans would place missiles on Ukraine’s Russian border, just as they have placed missiles in both Poland and Romania. Unlike those launch sites, however, it would only take five minutes for ballistic missiles fired from Ukraine to reach Moscow, which is simply not enough time for the Russians to retaliate should the Americans launch a nuclear first strike. In fact, it would be just like the Cuban missile crisis, only in reverse, with the result that the Russians would be forced to destroy the missiles before they could be launched.

Of course, it will be argued that just because Ukraine joins NATO doesn’t mean that the Americans will place missiles on its border with Russia, let alone that these missiles will have nuclear warheads. Once Ukraine joins NATO, however, Article 5 of the NATO Treaty means that the Russians could not intervene militarily to prevent such missiles being installed without starting World War III. What’s more, because they would not know whether the missiles had nuclear warheads or not, they would have to assume that they did, making a nuclear war almost inevitable. Indeed, if the British public knew what was at stake here, there would be protests outside parliament demanding that this suicidal policy of bringing Ukraine into NATO be reversed.

Similarly, if the British people were fully apprised of the facts, they would also probably support Russia’s second demand, which,  originally, was merely that the rights of Ukraine’s Russian-speaking population be respected, principally their right to speak their native language. Now, of course, after eleven years of war, matters have gone a little further than that. For with so much hatred on both sides, there is no way that the majority Russian-speaking populations of Luhansk, Donetsk, Zaporizhzhia, Kherson and, of course, Crimea are going to accept being taken back under Ukrainian rule. Nor can those who would force this on them argue – as they often do – that this is what is required under international law. For while the United Nations Charter may support the territorial integrity of sovereign states, it also supports the right of people to self-determination, especially in cases where the people concerned are from different ethnic, linguistic or religious backgrounds and are being persecuted as a result. More to the point, forcing people to be part of a country to which they do not wish to belong never solves the problem; it merely causes it to fester.

Of course, it will be argued that there is a right way and a wrong way for a regional majority population to secede from a country of which they do not wish to be part. And having another country simply annex them because they speak the same language, in the way that Hitler annexed the Sudetenland because the people there spoke German, is decidedly the wrong way. But that is not what happened with respect to any of the five Ukrainian provinces listed above, including Crimea, which most people in Britain believe the Russians invaded. This, however, is not literally the case. In fact, the Russians didn’t need to invade Crimea because they were already there, guarding their naval base at Sevastopol, which they had leased back from Ukraine under the 1997 Treaty of Kharkiv, to which the Ukrainians had agreed in return for a lucrative trade deal and extremely generous transit payments for allowing Russian natural gas to pass through Ukraine on its way to eastern Europe.   

In fact, at that point, relations between the two countries were actually quite amicable, or as amicable as they could be given their shared history. It is that shared history, however, that we really need to understand if we want to understand how things could have now gone so wrong.

2.    A Brief History of Ukraine

In his interview with Tucker Carlson, President Putin famously spent the first half hour talking about the close historical relationship between Russians and Ukrainians which he characterised as almost fraternal. While he didn’t say anything that was actually untrue is this lengthy disquisition, however, he conveniently left out huge swathes of history which tell a slightly different story. For although the Kievan Rus’ Empire may have been born in 9th century Ukraine, as it expanded, not only did its centre of gravity move eastward, away from Kiev and towards Moscow, but it was then broken up by the Mongol invasion of 1237 to 1241, which effectively rendered both Kiev and Muscovy separate vassal states of their Mongol overlords. In the 14th century, moreover, Ukraine was then conquered by the Poles who ruled it for the next 250 years, giving it a distinctive cultural and linguistic identity of its own, which, while still essentially Slavic, was no longer Rus’. It wasn’t until the 17th century, in fact, that an ascendant Russia began to absorb Ukraine once again, and even then it wasn’t done in a particularly fraternal manner.

It started during the Thirty Years War (1618 to 1648), which began as a religious war between the Holy Roman Empire and its protestant German Electors, but quickly spread all across Europe as a war of territorial opportunism, reaching Poland in 1621, at a time when Poland’s Catholic king, Sigismund III, had actually taken his army south to defend his Ukrainian possessions against the Ottoman Empire, thus providing Sweden’s protestant king, Gustavus Adolphus, with the perfect opportunity to invade Poland’s territories along the Baltic coast. This meant that the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, as it then was, was effectively at war on two fronts hundreds of miles apart, which the Russians naturally saw as a perfect opportunity for them to attack it from the east. To make matters worse, Sigismund then died, leaving his young and inexperienced son, Władysław IV, to fight three simultaneous wars for which he had neither the manpower nor the finances.

Needless to say, it didn’t take long for the young king to make a bad situation even worse by making some very bad decisions. For having concluded a largely one-sided peace with the Ottoman Empire – which already ruled Crimea and the whole of the Black Sea coast connecting Crimea to the Ottoman province of Romania, and which now took possession of large chunks of Zaporizhzhia as well – he seems to have thought that he was safe to save money on his southern flank by halving the number of annual stipends paid to the Zaporizhzhian Cossacks, whose traditional role it had been both to maintain control over the Ukrainian serfs, who worked on the huge Polish owned estates which at that time dominated Ukrainian agriculture, and to fend off raids on those same estates by the Muslim Tartars who actually ruled in Crimea as vassals of the Ottoman Empire.

Affronted and aggrieved, not just by their material losses, but by what they regarded as an insult to their military prowess, the Cossack leadership therefore decided to offer their services to the Russian Tsar instead, who, knowing that whoever controlled the Cossacks controlled Ukraine, was only too happy to take over the Cossacks’ annual stipends in full, leaving the Polish authorities in an almost impossible position. For while they still nominally ruled what was still left of Ukraine, they could neither police nor defend it, plunging it into a state of chaos which eventually led to the Khmelnitsky Uprising of 1648 in which the Cossacks, in alliance with the Tatars and the Ukrainian peasantry, committed numerous atrocities against the Polish civilian population, especially the Roman Catholic clergy and the Jews, of whom more than 10,000 were killed.

The pogroms against the Jews were particularly brutal affairs due to the fact that most of the aristocratic Polish landowners who owned land in Ukraine didn’t actually live there. Instead they employed stewards or estate managers to manage their estates for them, many of whom were Jews. This was because, throughout nearly all of Europe at that time, Jews were not allowed to own land of their own and so were not regarded as a threat to the Polish landowners. They were also literate and numerate with a good head for business, making them excellent estate managers. It also made them absolutely hated by the Ukrainian serfs, who not only saw them as the representatives of the ruling Polish elite but as a reminder of their own lowly status, being at the very bottom of the social ladder, even in their own land.

If the Khmelnitsky Uprising gave the Ukrainian peasantry a brief glimpse of freedom, however, it was extremely short lived. For with the representatives of the Polish landowners and the Polish provincial officials either dead or fled, and the Cossacks and their Russian masters firmly in charge, it didn’t take long before Russian landowners slowly but exorably started taking over the former Polish estates, bringing their Ukrainian serfs back under control and even, in some cases, employing the same Jewish estate managers as their predecessors. The result was that the Ukrainians very quickly learned to hate Russians almost as much as they hated Jews, creating a state of perpetual hostility which was made even worse in the 18th century when Catherine the Great decided to pivot Russia’s maritime trade away from the Baltic, which was ice-bound for half the year, and concentrate instead on the Black Sea, which was ice-free all year round. 

The problem she had, of course, was that Crimea and most of the Black Sea coast were still ruled by the Ottoman Empire and its Tartar vassals. What’s more, the whole region was still in an almost perpetual state of conflict, with continual skirmishes between the Cossacks and the Tartars, making it more or less impossible to even consider centring Russian maritime trade there. In 1768, therefore, just six years into her reign, Catherine took the epoch-making decision to remove the Tartars and their Ottoman masters from everywhere north of the Black Sea and bring the whole of Ukraine, including a few remaining Polish enclaves, into the Russian empire.

Her second problem, however, was that, at this very early stage of her reign, there were still a large number of Russians who refused to accept a woman on the throne. In despatching her army south to fight the Ottomans, therefore, she left herself vulnerable to rebellions elsewhere, the most notable of which took place in Siberia, to where she consequently had to divert a sizeable contingent of troops. The result was that her first Black Sea campaign was indecisive. She did manage to gain some territory to the west of the Dnieper River and, in the Treaty of Kuchuk Kainarji, she secured free access for Russian shipping passing through the Bosporus and the Dardanelles. But her principal objective, of removing the Tartars from the entire northern Black Sea coast and opening up the region for Russian trade remained unachieved.

If anything, in fact, the situation was made even worse. For one of the main terms of the Treaty of Kuchuk Kainarji stipulated that Crimea – and those areas of Kherson and Zaporizhzhia still in Tartar hands – were to become an independent Khanate, in which the Tatars would elect their own Khan, who consequently exercised even less control over his people than former Tartar leaders who only had to answer to the Ottoman Sultan. In fact, several factions now formed within the Tartar court, one of which was actually pro-Russian, which had the rather unfortunate effect of tempting Catherine into interfering politically in the Khanate’s affairs, which naturally antagonised those who opposed to her. In 1784, therefore, she finally gave up on politics and ordered another invasion, which, with only an independent Tartar army to face, was, this time, overwhelmingly successful.

Not that the conflict ended there. For the Ottomans were so enraged, not only by Catherine’s abrogation of Kuchuk Kainarji treaty, but by the personal tour she took around her new possessions –which she dubbed her ‘New Russia’ – that they embarked on another seven years of war. By this time, however, the Russians were not only in control of the entire northern Black Sea coast but of Crimea as well, where they not only built a new Black Sea Fleet but the more or less impregnable naval base at Sevastopol, which the Ottomans were never able to successfully assault.

In all, Catherine spent twenty-seven years of her reign on her Black Sea campaigns, which is what ultimately earned her the accolade of ‘the Great’. For by opening up the Black Sea – and hence the Aegean and the Mediterranean – to Russian trade, she totally transformed the Russian economy, enabling it to compete with other maritime powers such as Britain and France, which became so alarmed by this development that, in 1853, they actually invaded Crimea with the intention of shutting down Russia’s entire Black Sea operation and returning Crimea to the Ottoman Empire: an objective which, by then, was about as realistic as their plans for Russia and Ukraine today. I say this because Catherine didn’t just transform Russia’s economy, she also changed its geography. For with so much money to be made from foreign trade and its ancillary industries, throughout the 19th century people flocked to the Black Sea coast from all over Russia, building new port cities from Odessa in the west to Kerch in the east and turning Catherine’s New Russia into one of the wealthiest regions in the country.

The problem was that while, by the end of the century, wealthy Russians living in Ukraine’s coastal cities were enjoying a life style very similar to that of their French counterparts in Nice or Monaco, the Ukrainian peasants of the hinterland were still living under the same grinding poverty they’d had to endure under Polish and Russian rule for the previous 500 years.

Nor did it get any better under the Soviet Union, when the huge agricultural estates created by the Poles and taken over by the Russians were simply turned into collective farms where the quality life for those living on them actually deteriorated. This was because the priority for the Soviet Union, especially under Stalin, was the industrialisation of what, in 1917, had still been a largely agrarian economy. As long as agricultural republics like Ukraine continued delivering food to the new industrial metropolises being built in the east, Stalin didn’t really care, therefore, how they fared. Unfortunately, he also thought that collective farms, where food was produced on an industrial scale, were the best way to maintain and even increase food supply and so abandoned the reforms introduced by former Russian Prime Minister, Pyotr Stolypin, which allowed traditional Russian peasants to become small independent farmers known as kulaks. What Stalin didn’t understand was that, incentivised by the rewards their hard work brought them, the kulaks were actually the most productive part of Russia’s agricultural economy and that, in abolishing them, he actually reduced agricultural output.

What turned this simple if rather egregious misunderstanding of economics into a tragedy, however, was the fact that, no matter how much agricultural production fell in republics like Ukraine, they still had to provide the same quantities of food to Stalin’s new cities, with the result that, between 1930 and 1933, rural areas such as Kazakhstan, Western Siberia and, most of all, Ukraine, suffered a massive famine in which between 5.7 million and 8.7 million people died.

After centuries of oppression, for many Ukrainians this was the turning point, giving rise to a new Ukrainian nationalist party called the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN), which was not only modelled on the nationalist parties of Germany and Italy but espoused many of the same policies, especially with regard to the Jews. Because Ukraine was still part of the Soviet Union, of course, this didn’t intiually pose much of a threat to Ukraine’s Jewish population. In 1939, however, when the Germans invaded Poland, it just so happened that, in a strange twist of fate, the OUN’s founder and leader, Stepan Bandera, was in a Polish prison awaiting execution for the murder of a Polish government minster and was thus in a position to influence the future of his country in a way that would never have been possible under almost any other circumstances. For not only did the Germans release him, they welcomed him into the highest circles of the Nazi party and included him in their plans for the invasion of the Soviet Union, the southernmost arc of which, of course, would proceed through Ukraine.

For the fledgling OUN and its leader, this was therefore an opportunity of which they could only previously have dreamed. As soon as Kiev fell to the Germans, however, Bandera made an absolutely astounding error. For without first clearing it with his German handlers, he issued a Proclamation of Ukrainian Statehood – effectively a declaration of independence – which, of course, was the last thing the Germans wanted. Indeed, anyone who has read ‘Mein Kampf’ will know that Hitler’s principal objective in conquering the Slavic world was economic. He wanted to create colonies, populated by people who were more or less slaves, whose sole purpose it would be to supply the Fatherland with the natural resources and raw materials it needed. The idea of an independent Ukraine was therefore totally at odds with the entire Nazi agenda.

Even though Bandera’s proclamation pledged the cooperation of the new Ukrainian state with Nazi Germany, recognised the supreme leadership of Adolph Hitler and was accompanied by the massacre of thousands of Jews by OUN supporters, the result was that Bandera, himself, was promptly arrested by the Gestapo and spent the next three years in detention – albeit reasonably comfortable detention – until he was released in 1944 to help fight against the Soviet advance.

Even during his captivity, however, so blinded was he by his hatred of Russians and Jews that he still  doesn’t seem to have understood the real nature of the Nazi enterprise or that the Germans were simply using him. As a result, he helped them recruit what eventually became two whole divisions, plus one additional brigade, of the Waffen SS: the 14th Waffen SS Grenadier Division (1st Galician), the 30th Waffen SS Grenadier Division, and the Dirlewanger Brigade, a total of around 20,000 men. All three units fought alongside the Germans throughout the rest of the war and all three were responsible for a variety of atrocities and war crimes, especially in eastern Ukraine where they murdered an estimated 500,000 Jews and Russians. Probably the most infamous of the war crimes committed by the Ukrainian Waffen SS, however, occurred during the Warsaw Uprising in August 1944, when the Dirlewanger Brigade massacred around 100,000 Polish civilians, for which a number of the brigade’s officers were later executed.

Needless to say, ex-Waffen SS soldiers and members of the OUN who were later captured and identified as such by the victorious Russians were treated with great severity. Bandera, himself, however,  escaped to West Germany where he was protected by the US-backed Gehlen Organization and by various underground Nazis groups, who helped him cross the borders between Allied occupation zones, enabling him to evade those hunting him. It wasn’t until 1959, therefore, that he was eventually tracked down in Munich and assassinated by the KGB: a fitting end, some might say, to one of history’s most notorious mass murderers, but one which actually enhanced his almost legendary reputation among many Ukrainians and led to his being awarded the title of ‘Hero of Ukraine’ in January 2010.

3.    The Road to War

With this shared and very troubled history, it is unsurprising, therefore, that when the Soviet Union was dissolved in December 1991, Ukraine decided to become an independent nation rather than join the new Russian Federation. After all, Ukrainians had been fighting for their independence since the 1930s. What is surprising is the fact that, for quite a while, relations between the two countries were as amicable as they were. Yes, there were tensions over the Black Sea Fleet and the naval base at Sevastopol, to which Ukraine naturally laid claim. Once the leasing arrangements for the naval base and a trade deal had been sorted out, however, including the transit payments for piping gas to Europe, relations between the two countries settled down into something approaching normality.

In fact, given the benefits of the trade and transit deals to the Ukrainian economy, it would have been very difficult to prise the two countries apart without concerted western interference, which began, in fact, at the NATO conference in Bucharest in April 2008, when it was announced that both Ukraine and Georgia would be invited to join NATO, to which Russia naturally responded in the strongest terms possible, citing the argument outlined above that this would give NATO a pre-emptive first strike capability that would very probably lead to a nuclear war.

Despite stating that it was up to NATO to decide who would be invited to join the alliance and that Russia had no say in the matter, at this point, therefore, western leaders clearly decided to back away from this confrontational approach and to try instead to entice Ukraine away from Russia by offering the Ukrainians and even more lucrative trade deal than the Russians had given them. In July 2008, as a consequence, just three months after the Bucharest NATO meeting, the EU duly began talks with Ukraine which were intended to ultimately lead to Ukraine’s full EU membership.

That this was done for purely geopolitical purposes is clear from the fact that Ukraine’s very poor economy and high level of corruption meant that there were a lot of obstacles to be overcome, making it hardly surprising, therefore, that even this first stage of the process towards EU membership was not completed until March 2012 when a draft European Union–Ukraine Association Agreement was initialled by both sides in Brussels. Even this, however, was a massive step forward for Ukraine. For not only did it include a comprehensive free trade agreement, but it provided Ukraine with access to the European Investment Bank (EIB), making it very popular with most Ukrainians, especially the young, who saw even this loose association with the EU as their best chance of both improving their economic prospects and cleaning up public life.

The problem, however, as those who negotiated the deal must have known, was that any free trade agreement with the EU was more or less bound to be incompatible with the free trade agreement Ukraine already had with Russia. In fact, the Russians had already made this clear, pointing out that if Ukraine signed such an agreement with the EU, Russia would then have to erect customs barriers along the Russian Ukrainian border in order to prevent EU goods simply flowing through Ukraine into Russia tariff-free: a problem very similar to that which the EU later had with an open border between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland post-Brexit.

Even though both the Ukrainian parliament and the elected president, Viktor Yanukovych, continued to assert that the EU agreement was the best way forward for their country, the result was that neither was willing to commit to it until some of the negative consequences of this new alignment were addressed, which, for its part, the EU quite rightly stated that it could not do. The result was an inevitable impasse with which many Ukrainians very quickly became impatient and which led to huge public protests in Maidan Square in Kiev throughout November and December 2013, at which Victoria Nuland, Deputy US Secretary of State, was videoed handing out cookies to the protestors, thereby demonstrating America’s solidarity with their cause.

While the protests in Maidan Square were largely peaceful, however, and were depicted as such by the western media, behind the scenes, supporters of the only very recently created ‘Hero of Ukraine’, Stepan Bandera, were being bussed into the capital to intimidate anyone who opposed the EU deal. There are even reports that more than a hundred people were killed, though how accurate these reports are is very difficult to say. With the unrest becoming increasingly violent, however, even some of the more conservative members of the Ukrainian parliament were persuaded that President Yanukovych had to step down, thereby allowing a new presidential election to be held the following May.

Whether this was strictly constitutional is unclear in that Yanukovych had been directly elected by the people and was not therefore dependent on the confidence of parliament for the maintenance of his presidency. Whether this therefore represented a coup d'état, however, is also unclear, not least because Yanukovych’s successor was not, at this point, obvious. All that was ostensibly taking place, therefore, was the resolution of a political impasse by means of a new presidential election. Nor is there any evidence that the election was rigged. What does seem rather remarkable, however, is the fact that, in a country apparently crying out for reform, the man whom the people elected as president that May was a billionaire oligarch called Petro Poroshenko, who was not only known as one of the most corrupt men in Ukraine, but whose party, the National Alliance of Freedom and Ukrainian Patriotism (NASTUP), later renamed the All-Ukrainian Union Solidarity (BOS), was merely the latest incarnation of Stepan Bandera’s OUN.

To say that the return to power of the Ukrainian Nazi Party sixty-nine years after the end of the second world war was a cause of concern to the Russians would, of course, be a huge understatement: it rocked Moscow to its core. The Kremlin’s biggest fear was that Ukraine would immediately abrogate the Kharkiv Treaty and would then be fast tracked into NATO, which would not only mean that the naval base at Sevastopol would be returned to Ukraine but that it would be effectively handed over to the Americans. To avoid this at all costs, the troops already stationed in Sevastopol were therefore redeployed to the narrow isthmus which connects Crimea to the Ukrainian mainland, thereby securing the entire peninsula and preventing Sevastopol from coming under siege.

Under international law, of course, this was technically an invasion of the territory of another sovereign state. In an attempt to legitimise it, the Russians therefore held a very speedy referendum in which the Russian population of the peninsula, fearing the return of Banderite Nazis, voted by 97% to join the Russian Federation. Not, of course, that this had any effect upon western leaders, the western media or, indeed, the general public. For not knowing that nearly all the inhabitants of Crimea are descendants of the Russians who flocked there in the 19th century and that the new ruling party in Ukraine was actually a reincarnation of Ukraine’s World War II Nazi party, everyone in the West just naturally assumed that the Crimean referendum had to have been rigged to have produced such a result.

This reaction, however, now left the Russians with an even bigger problem than the sanctions which were immediately imposed upon them. For they now had to decide what to do about the twelve million or so Russians who actually lived in mainland Ukraine, most of them in the provinces of Kherson, Zaporizhzhia, Donetsk and Luhansk. I say this because, within weeks of taking office, President Poroshenko started introducing new anti-Russian laws intended to Ukrainianize Ukraine. This included purging all ethnic Russians from the civil service, banning Russian-language newspapers, radio stations and TV channels, and prohibiting the use of Russian in schools, a measure which was particularly onerous in the two most eastern provinces of Luhansk and Donetsk where the vast majority of children, along with their teachers, only spoke Russian. Indeed, it could be said that this really didn’t give the people of Luhansk and Donetsk very much choice other than to break away from Ukraine and form their own independent republics, which then inevitably came under attack from the Ukrainian army.

This therefore presented President Putin with a massive dilemma. For in the case of Crimea, the Russian army had secured the peninsula without actually coming into contact with Ukrainian troops, which meant that, had the Ukrainians attacked Russian positions on the isthmus, it would have been they who initiated a shooting war between the two sides. If the Russians sent troops to help the militias being formed in Luhansk and Donetsk, however, it would be they who would be initiating the war: something Putin was particularly reluctant to do while there was still a chance of a diplomatic settlement, especially as peace talks were already getting underway in Minsk under the co-chairmanship of President Hollande of France and Chancellor Merkel of Germany.

What probably made him even more reluctant to start a war, however, is the fact that, as a trained lawyer, he strongly believed that what he was asking for was not unreasonable: merely that Ukraine remain neutral, providing a buffer between NATO and Russia – something that was clearly in the interests of both sides – and that the freedoms and rights of Russians living inside Ukraine were protected. What he did not understand at that time was that what was being arranged in Minsk had nothing to do with reasonableness and that the talks were a total sham. For as Angela Merkel later admitted in an interview with Die Zeit, the entire purpose of the Minsk Accords was to buy time for Ukraine to build up its military. What’s more, this was done with the full knowledge and support of America and its European allies.

That’s not to say, of course, that over the next seven years, the Russians couldn’t see what was going on, especially as NATO immediately started arming, equipping and training what, by 2022, was the second largest army in Europe, consisting of more than 600,000 men. What made the hollowness of the Minsk Accords even more obvious, however, was that fact that, throughout this period, the Ukrainians relentlessly shelled and bombed towns and cities throughout the Donbas, killing over 14,000 people while injuring countless more, making it perfectly clear that their intention was ultimately to provoke a war.

Not that the Russians just sat back and watched this happen. Not only did they create the Wagner Group, a private military contractor they could send to the Donbas without actually sending Russian troops, but they were also quietly preparing for war themselves. The main difference between the two sides was that the Russians did not entirely give up on peace. In fact, they continued to search for a diplomatic solution right up until December 2021, when, in one last attempt to avert a totally unnecessary war, they submitted what they described as a comprehensive peace plan for Europe to both the EU and US, in which they proposed that both sides guarantee Ukraine’s independence and neutrality in return for Ukrainian demilitarisation. When this was summarily dismissed with hardly any discussion, however, there was virtually nothing more the Russians could do but actually walk into the trap the West had carefully set for them. For if they wanted the attacks on the Donbas to stop, the only option left was to stop them themselves.

4.    The Reasons Why the West Provoked Russia into Invading Ukraine

I realise, of course, that very people in the West today are prepared to even entertain this version of events. In fact, very few people in the West today have even heard this version of events. They believe what their governments and media have been telling them for the last three and a half years: that there was no build-up or reason for the war in Ukraine; that Vladimir Putin just woke up one morning and decided to invade his entirely innocent neighbour as a first step towards rebuilding the old Soviet empire. The idea that we could have provoked this unprovoked attack is therefore regarded as utterly preposterous. After all, we are the ‘good guys’; we don’t do things like that. More to the  point, why would we!

There are, however, two deeply rooted reasons – one political, or even philosophical, the other both economic and existential – why we not only would but actually did engineer the events I have outlined.

The first has its basis in our response to the end of the cold way, which most people alive at that time greeted with a mixture of relief and jubilation: relief because, for most of the previous forty years, we had believed that, at any moment, the world could be destroyed in a nuclear holocaust; jubilation because it seemed like the dawning of a new era, in which the political struggles of the 20th century had been finally brought to an end with the victory of liberal democracy, which it was the duty of an enlightened West to now spread around the world. American political scientist, Francis Fukuyama, even called it the ‘end of history’: the end-point of mankind's ideological evolution from which universal peace and prosperity would now flow.

Others, however, were slightly less sanguine, believing that the biggest challenge the West now faced was that of protecting the very fragile state of peace and stability it had won, especially from those who might drag us all back into the darkness. One such proponent of what consequently became a policy of heightened vigilance was U.S. Under Secretary of Defence for Policy, Paul Wolfowitz, who, along with his deputy, Scooter Libby, published a policy document in 1992, in which they argued that, far from sitting back and enjoying its victory, the United Sates should actively police what was still a very dangerous world and take pre-emptive military action against any potential threats. Known as  the ‘Wolfowitz Doctrine’, it is this policy which underpins what is generally called ‘neo-conservatism’ and has given rise to a whole series of wars over the last thirty years, from Afghanistan and Iraq to Libya and Syria. In their policy paper, however, Wolfowitz and Libby paid special attention to Russia, which they argued should never again be allowed to rise to the status of a superpower and thus threaten anyone.

Not that this seemed very likely in 1992. For as I have explained elsewhere in a different context, the most catastrophic consequence of Russia’s political disintegration was the near total collapse of its already fragile economy. For in a highly centralised and bureaucratic system, people simply weren’t used to thinking for themselves, taking responsibility or acting on their own initiative. Most people simply did what they were told and put as little effort into it as they possibly could, knowing that if they kept their heads down and their noses clean, they’d get paid anyway. When instructions stopped coming down from above, therefore, everything more or less t ground to a halt. Parts weren’t delivered to factories, food wasn’t delivered to shops and despite a rapidly growing black market, run largely by criminal gangs who drove up prices beyond what most people could afford, people began to starve.

As an indication of just how bad things got, average life expectancy in Russia in the 1990s actually fell by five years, which may not seem a lot but, in a population of around 120 million, actually represents an expected total loss of life of 600 million years: a loss which cannot have therefore fallen solely on the very old. Indeed, there were premature deaths across every age group, from the very old to the very young, with a lot of young people actually committing suicide.

Nor was the situation helped to any great extent by western aid, which was mostly directed towards the privatisation of previously state-owned industries through the provision of loans to those managers and officials who were in a position to buy and run them. The problem was that, even including the $2.5 billion ‘Loans for Shares’ package provided by the USA, the collective west could not provide enough such loans to privatise the entire Russian economy at its true worth. The result was that most state-owned industries were sold off at massive discounts. In 1995, for instance, Boris Berezovsky and Roman Abramovich, two of the most well-known beneficiaries of this bonanza, bought the state-owned oil company Sibneft for $200 million. Ten years later, Abramovich sold his share of the company alone for $13 billion.

With such huge fortunes to be made from what was effectively the looting of Russian state assets, this then set off a huge wave of corruption among the officials administering the sales. For if a purchaser wanted his bid for a business to succeed, there were often dozens of palms to be greased, with sums running into millions. Nor was it just Russians who were involved. Western corporations also now descended on Russia in order to buy up Russian businesses on the cheap. And while it was the Russian state which garnered the proceeds from these sales, there was hardly a single person in government who wasn’t getting rich.

From the perspective of those in the US administration who subscribed to the Wolfowitz Doctrine, the chaos into which Russia consequently descended, both as a result of this widespread corruption and the consequent lawlessness to which it gave rise, must have seemed like the perfect solution, explaining in no small measure why they so fervently supported the alcoholic and totally incompetent Boris Yeltsin who, as president, presided over this dystopian nightmare. In his last year in office, however, Yeltsin did something so uncharacteristically thoughtful and judicious that it almost redeemed his entire presidency. For in August 1999, he appointed the relatively unknown but highly intelligent, fiercely patriotic and utterly incorruptible Vladimir Putin as his Prime Minister, thereby paving the way for him to become President the following year when Yeltsin, himself, retired.

Nor did Putin waste any time in beginning the task of cleaning up the mess Russia was in and going after those he deemed responsible. His first target was Mikhail Khodorkovsky, who had purchased Yukos Oil under the US ‘Loans for Shares’ deal and was thought to be worth around $50 billion, making him the richest man in Russia and the perfect candidate for the example Putin intended to make of him. For in what was clearly intended as a message to all the other so-called oligarchs who had plundered Russia’s wealth, Putin not only had Khodorkovsky arrested, tried and imprisoned for fraud and tax evasion but then had Yukos Oil sold off at a price so low that the proceeds only just covered its former owner’s unpaid tax bill, thereby leaving him with absolutely nothing.

Fearing that they would be next, many of the other oligarchs, including Boris Berezovsky and Roman Abramovich, consequently fled to London, where their billions were welcomed with open arms by the City’s banks, but where they were constantly followed and harassed by the FSB in what was clearly part of a well worked-out plan. For instead of going after those oligarchs who remained in Russia in the way he had dealt with Khodorkovsky, Putin offered them a deal in which they would be allowed to keep their ill-gotten gains as long as they made annual, ‘voluntary’ contributions to the Russian treasury, an arrangement which even those in London were eventually forced to accept if they wanted to avoid spending the rest of their lives looking over their shoulders.

His next target was Viktor Chernomyrdin, a former Prime Minister under Yeltsin, whom Yeltsin had appointed chairman of Gazprom, the massive state-owned energy company which had been set up by the Soviet Union in 1965 in order to exploit Russia’s huge reserves of natural gas. So large were these reserves, in fact, that there was no chance of any one single person or even a consortium buying the company as a whole. When it came to privatization, therefore, it was decided that 15% of the shares should be given to the corporation’s employees, 45% sold to the general public – with 747,000 people taking up the offer – while the remaining minority stake of 40% would be kept by the state. Given the atmosphere of rampant corruption at that time, however, it didn’t take long for the board of directors, including the chairman, Viktor Chernomyrdin, and the Chief Executive Officer, Rem Viakhirev, to start channelling funds and assets to other gas trading companies owned by themselves or their families, with the result that the shareholders, including the state, never actually received any dividends.

Putin’s first step, therefore, was to replace Chernomyrdin and Viakhirev with Dmitry Medvedev and Alexei Miller, both of whom had worked for him in St. Petersburg and were part of a small team of trusted and able individuals whom Putin has collected around him over the years and who were a vital factor in Russia’s recovery. He also made Gazprom a ‘National Champion’: one of a small group of companies which, while still public corporations, were selected to work alongside government in rebuilding the Russian economy. In fact, Gazprom has probably played as big a role in this as the government itself, becoming the world’s largest producer of natural gas and building a network of pipelines spanning thousands of miles in order to supply customers in both Europe and Asia, thereby contributing immeasurably to Russia’s industrial transformation.

It was this transformation, however, that almost certainly set off alarm bells in the West. For in less than a decade, Russia had gone from being an economic basket case to being an industrial powerhouse: an almost miraculous metamorphosis which as was most dramatically demonstrated in 2010 when the Nord Stream 1 pipeline was completed and commenced delivering 150 million cubic metres of gas a day to Germany. To many people in Washington, indeed, it must have seemed like their worst nightmare and was further compounded the following year when work began on Nord Stream 2, which, had it ever been put into operation, would have resulted in Russia supplying all of Germany’s natural gas, rendering Europe’s largest industrial economy more or less dependent on Russia for its energy.

It was this prospect, indeed, which almost certainly led the neo-cons in Washington to decide that Russia had to be stopped, not just because of the Wolfowitz Doctrine, but because they knew that if Russia were allowed to go on expanding its exports to Europe – not just of natural gas, but of other commodities as well, such as fertilisers, aluminium, uranium and oil – then eventually Europe would become so dependent on Russia for raw materials that the Russians would be able to demand payment in rubles, thereby undermining the dollar and posing a threat to the USA itself.

5.    The Russian Threat

To those unfamiliar with this particular field of economics, it may, of course, be hard to believe that,  by simply becoming the world’s largest supplier of commodities, which, by 2014, it had indeed become, Russia could pose any significant threat to America. After all, it’s population is only about a third of the size of that of the United States and its economy is only about half that of Germany. The threat, however, is real and stems from the fact that it is generally – although not always – to the advantage of an exporting country to sell its goods in its own currency. This is because, in order to purchase those goods, the customer first has to purchase units of the currency, itself, thereby increasing demand for that currency and pushing up its price on foreign exchanges. This, of course, has the effect of making the exporting country’s goods more expensive and may therefore seem to be a disadvantage. But while the volume of the exporting country’s sales may consequently decline, the income derived from them may not. What’s more, any disadvantage a higher priced currency may cause will be further offset by the exporting country’s imports becoming cheaper. Thus it is generally to the advantage of an exporting country to sell its goods in its own currency.

The problem for Russia, however, is that, up until very recently – the start of the war in Ukraine, in fact – this option of selling its commodities in its own currency did not really exist. In fact, it didn’t exist for any of the world’s major exporters of commodities, which, since the early 1970’s, when the US made a deal with Saudi Arabia guaranteeing that Saudi oil would always be sold in dollars, have been almost universally traded in dollars. This is not only because, up until very recently, the US dollar was seen as absolutely safe by third parties, but because, in terms of world trade, there is also a considerable advantage to be gained from trading commodities in the same currency regardless of their country of origin.

This is because all commodities, by definition, are fungible, which is to say that, once certified, each unit of the commodity is the same as the next and has the same value. Because one doesn’t therefore have to inspect each unit of a certified commodity individually, this then allows commodities to be traded globally in the ‘abstract’, most commonly in the form of ‘futures’, which often change hands multiple times on paper before an actual shipment is physically delivered to an actual customer. While this greatly increases the speed and ease with which international trade can be conducted, however, it is only possible as long as all the trades are made in the same currency so that margin costs are not incurred on currency exchanges.

For a country like Russia, however, this system has a lot of disadvantages. For even though it is the largest exporter of commodities in the world, because all of its trades are, or used to be made in dollars there was hardly any demand for its currency, the value of which was therefore kept artificially low. Indeed, one can see this in the dollar value of its GDP, which, as already noted, is only half that of Germany’s. If one went to live in Russia, however, one would find that one could live quite satisfactorily on an income less than half of that which would be required to maintain the same standard of living in Europe or America. For the value of the ruble when traded on foreign exchanges is not the same as the value of the ruble when used to buy food and clothing etc. inside Russia.

For those Russian corporations, such as Gazprom, which sell commodities abroad, this, of course, is not a significant problem. Because they are paid in dollars, they can then use those dollars to purchase anything they may need from the rest of the world. Before the war, for instance, Gazprom used to buy the gas turbines it uses to power its pipelines from Siemens, almost certainly paying for them in either dollars or dollars converted into euros. It didn’t therefore need to exchange low priced rubles for high priced dollars, which would have made the Siemens turbines very much more expensive. This is not the case, however, for Russian corporations which only sell their goods in Russia but which have to buy components such as engine parts from abroad, making Russian manufactured cars far more expensive than they need to be.

Not, of course, that this has been wholly disadvantageous to Russia’s economy. For the high price of imports has led to the growth of thousands of firms producing substitute components in Russia, thereby adding significantly to Russia’s economic transformation over the last twenty-five years. What’s more this process of home-produced substitution has been forced into over-drive by the war in Ukraine and the imposition of western sanctions. In early 2023, for instance, Gazprom put out a tender for the supply of gas turbines made in Russia by Russian engineering firms, the intention being to develop home produced substitutes for the Siemens turbines embargoed in 2022. With Gazprom as their biggest customer, it wouldn’t surprise me, therefore, if a Russian firm became the world’s biggest supplier of gas turbines by 2030.

Even so, the disadvantages with which Russia has had to deal as a result of selling its commodities in dollars and therefore being left with an under-valued currency still outweigh the advantages, not least because, up until the beginning of the war, corporations like Gazprom had to convert at least some of their dollar receipts into rubles in order to cover domestic costs. This meant that Russian banks, especially the Bank of Russia, Russia’s central bank, ended up with a surfeit of dollars which they could only really invest in dollar denominated assets such as US Treasury bonds. Not only did this mean, therefore, that Russia was effectively lending its balance of payment surplus to the United States, but that the US Treasury could freeze or seize this surplus any time it wanted, as of course it did in 2022 when the US and EU froze $300 billion of Russian assets.

One of the main consequences of this, therefore, is that, after the war, one can be fairly certain Russia will not go back to trading in dollars. If other countries want to buy Russian commodities, as they certainly will, they will have to do so in rubles or some other mutually nominated currency such as the Chinese Yuan. More to the point, had Nord Stream 2 been turned on when it was completed in September 2021, Russia would not only have had good reason but sufficient leverage to request that Germany pay for its gas in rubles: a request with which the Germans would have had little choice but to comply.

Indeed, it was almost certainly for this reason that the Biden administration forbade the Germans from making the second Nord Stream pipeline operational. For they also knew that once the financial apparatus for making international payments in rubles had been put in place, it would then have almost certainly been used to pay for other Russian commodities, such as fertiliser and wheat. In short, a massive crack would have appeared in the ‘petrodollar’ system, which would only have got wider as other countries sought to follow Russia’s lead: something which the United Sates simply could not allow.

Nor is the reason for this hard to discern. For just as the selling of Russian commodities in dollars weakened the demand for rubles and hence caused the ruble to be undervalued, so the whole world’s use of dollars for international trade has kept the demand for the dollar – and hence it value – artificially high: something which may seem like a good thing but which also has its down side. For while it means that the price of imports into the USA has been kept artificially low – to the benefit of consumers – US exports to other countries are that much more expensive. The result has not just been a large and more or less permanent US trade deficit but an economic handicap which has given US manufacturers an additional incentive to move their factories to non-dollar domains. This in turn has meant that what was once the beating heart of the mighty US economy, its manufacturing, has been steadily eroded and hollowed out, leaving mostly only service industries in its place, where pay is generally much lower and where workers often require subsidies in the form of welfare payments in order to maintain a decent standard of living.

While this may therefore seem like an argument in favour of ending the dollar’s reserve currency status and actually encouraging third party countries to trade in their own currencies, the problem, as I have explained in more detail elsewhere, is that this erosion of the US economy has already gone on too long for any administration to even contemplate this option. For in order to keep an increasingly impoverished electorate happy, successive US governments have had to resort to more and more public spending, which, because it cannot be funded solely out of taxation, has led to more and more borrowing, with the result that the US now has the largest mountain of debt in history – nearly $37 trillion at the time of writing – the accumulation of which has only been possible because when countries with trade surpluses in dollars opt to retain those dollars as part of their strategic reserves, they do not actually keep them as dollars – on which no interest is paid – but convert them to dollar denominated assets such as US Treasury bonds. In fact, nearly a third of all Treasury bonds are held by foreign central banks in this way.

The problem is that a large proportion of them are in one year T-bills, which have to be refinanced every year, which means that, every year, the US Treasury has to sell around $10 trillion worth of bonds, notes and bills in order to have enough money, not only to redeem the bonds, notes and bills falling due that year, but also to finance that year’s deficit. It can only do this, however, if

a)      enough of the cash paid out to investors with bonds falling due is reinvested in new bond issues and

b)      the gap between this reinvestment and the Treasury’s overall borrowing requirement is filled by commodity exporters with new dollar receipts choosing to invest these receipts in US Treasuries.

If, however, commodity exporters such as Russia or Saudi Arabia, for instance, were to stop selling their commodities in dollars, not only would they not have these new dollar receipts to fill this gap, but it is very likely that their very act of breaking away from the petrodollar system would deter investors with bonds falling due from reinvesting the proceeds of their redemption in new bonds. The Treasury, as a result, would not therefore be able to sell enough new bonds to redeem the old ones and would consequently be forced to default.

Thus, in one of history’s greatest ironies, the ultimate cause of America’s economic decline – the  use of the dollar in world trade – is the only thing which is now preventing this whole house of cards from collapsing. Worse still, the collapse of the petrodollar system would not just cause the collapse of those parts of the international financial system not already trying to insulate themselves from the dollar’s vulnerability, but would also very probably lead to individual states within the US seceding from the union in order to disavow the federal debt and print their own currencies. Thus it is that Russia really does pose an existential threat to the USA. For if it were to permanently cease trading in dollars, as it very probably will, and if other countries were to follow Russia’s lead, which members of the BRICS group are already doing, there is a strong possibility that the USA would not survive in its current form.

6.    The Failure of the Neo-cons’ Plan

At some point before the 2008 NATO summit in Bucharest, therefore, the decision was clearly made in Washington that Russia had to be destroyed. I do not know this for certain, of course, because only an insider would have this kind knowledge and no one inside the upper echelons of the US government at that time is ever going to admit that this is what happened. But all the evidence points in this direction.

The chosen method by which this destruction of Russia was to be achieved is also fairly obvious. For given what has subsequently happened, the plan clearly centred on provoking Russia into invading one of its neighbours, Ukraine being the most obvious candidate due to the troubled history between the two countries and the existence of extreme Ukrainian nationalists in Kiev who could be installed in government and encouraged to force Russia’s hand by introducing anti-Russian legislation, rapidly expanding Ukraine’s military and conducting a genocidal campaign against Russians living inside Ukraine’s 1991 borders.

The plan was that this would make Russia an international pariah upon which punitive sanctions could therefore be imposed, destroying the Russian economy, while Ukraine’s massive NATO equipped and NATO trained army would steadily erode Russia’s military capability, eventually leading to political unrest inside Russia and regime change in the Kremlin.

The problem, of course, is that, over the last three and a half years, this plan has failed miserably in all of these respects. Not only have trade sanctions not destroyed the Russian economy, they have actually made it stronger by accelerating import replacement with home produced goods. What’s more, Russia’s allies, especially in BRICS, have continued to buy Russian commodities in ever larger quantities, in many cases selling them on to customers in Europe where they have been banned and where their loss has had serious negative consequences for the European economy, especially the German economy, which, without cheap Russian gas, has undergone deindustrialisation on a massive scale.

In the West, of course, much is made of Russia’s high interest rates and high inflation rate, which are seen as indicators of an economy in distress. The high interest rates, however, have been imposed by Russia’s central bank to prevent the economy from overheating, while the high inflation rate, around 8%, is largely the result of labour shortages pushing up wages in a rapidly expanding economy. In fact, both of these problems are problems the West would love to have right now.

Nor have the financial sanctions imposed on Russia had any significant effect. Barring Russia from using SWIFT, in fact – the American controlled international settlement system – has also significantly backfired. For all it has done is accelerate the development of the BRICS alternative international settlement system, known as the ‘BRICS Bridge’, which is superior to SWIFT in three key respects. Firstly, it is not centrally controlled by any one country. Based on distributed Blockchain technology, each BRICS member simply creates their own node which is then connected to the network. Secondly, it is instantaneous. Whereas it can take up to a week for SWIFT to process a payment, with the money passing through multiple banks, making it very expensive, in the case of BRICS Bridge, the user only has to press the SEND button and the money is instantly transferred to its recipient, with the transaction redundantly recorded on a distributed ledger. Finally, payments can be made in whatever currency the participants to the transaction choose, another benefit of the system’s instantaneousness being that the participant making the payment knows exactly what the exchange rate of the currency is at the moment the payment is made.

With the system already undergoing trials, its rollout will thus almost certainly further accelerate the de-dollarization of international trade which BRICS members have already started: the very outcome which the war in Ukraine was intended to prevent.

It is militarily, however, that western governments most misjudged the impact of the war on Russia. For they not only seemed to have believed that the Russian army was still the listless mass of ill-equipped and poorly trained conscripts it had been at the end of the cold war, but they also rather arrogantly assumed that a NATO trained and equipped army would be vastly superior to any army Russia could mobilise, not realising that the war in Ukraine has actually made NATO training and equipment more or less obsolete.

This is because both its training manual and its equipment were designed to fight the kind of highly mobile war which all NATO armies have employed as standard since the Germans introduced it as ‘blitzkrieg’ during the Second World War. The war in Ukraine, however, has made this whole form of warfare impossible. This is due to a cluster of technologies known collectively as ISR (Intelligence, Surveillance and Reconnaissance), which uses satellites, drones and other aircraft to pinpoint targets on the ground and send their GPS coordinates directly to the targeting systems of strike weapons such as drones, missiles and guided bombs, which, depending on their range, can take out their targets within minutes if not seconds of them being acquired. This means that anything moving around on the battlefield, especially large objects such as tanks and armoured fighting vehicles, both of which are much favoured by NATO, are very quickly destroyed. It is for this reason, indeed, that Ukrainian battlefields look far more like the battlefields of the First World War than anything we have seen since, with networks of trenches and underground tunnels linking fortified bunkers.

What this also means is that this new form of warfare is far more difficult for an army on the offensive – which is, by definition, moving forward – than it is for an army sitting comfortably in pre-prepared defensive positions. In theory, therefore, the Ukrainians, who were never going to attack Russia and had seven years to prepare their defences against a Russian assault, should have had a distinct advantage. The problem was that the Russians also had seven years to prepare for war, which gave them plenty of time to develop the weapons and tactics needed to overcome the problems posed by this asymmetrical battlefield. For the one thing they were never going to do, of course, was send waves of infantry against heavily fortified positions – as the western media often depicts them as doing – not least because President Putin was only too well aware of the effect that large numbers of causalities can have on political opinion at home. As a KGB officer, in fact, he’d seen what happened to the Soviet Union when Russian soldiers started coming home from Afghanistan in body bags and had no intention of making the same mistake.

Not that the answer his generals came up with was particularly original. For based on the evidence of the last three and a half years, their solution can be summed up in one word: ‘artillery’, and lots of it, the principle being that, no matter how thick the reinforced concrete carapace of a bunker may be, if you hit it with enough high explosives, eventually it will crack. The Russians’ main tactic throughout the war, therefore, has been to stand off the Ukrainian defences and bombard them for weeks if necessary before sending in the infantry. The real challenge they faced, as a consequence, was to build up enough industrial capacity to manufacture enough artillery pieces and ammunition to sustain such protracted bombardments, which, in the seven years leading up to the war, the Russian clearly did.

I say this because during some phases of the war, the Russian army has fired up to 60,000 artillery rounds a day and has at no point showed any sign of running out of ammunition. This contrasts markedly with the Ukrainians, who, firing less than 10,000 rounds a day, completely exhausted NATO’s stockpile of 155mm shells before the end of 2023, since when they have had to make do with NATO’s current production of around 30,000 shells a month.

Not, of course, that this solved all of the Russians’ tactical problems. For being on the attack, their artillery was still out in the open and vulnerable to ISR-guided strike weapons, especially drones. To counter this, therefore, they developed a new generation of mobile air defence systems, which not only comprised radar and conventional antiaircraft batteries, but electronic jamming systems which are primarily designed to block GPS signals, with the result that incoming drones and missiles are effectively flying blind.

The Russians also had another crucial advantage. For while the Ukrainians were being supplied with a variety of mostly rather old NATO weapons, designed to fight a more mobile war, throughout the conflict the Russians have continued to develop new weapons designed to fight the war they have actually been fighting. This has been particularly true with respect to the weapons needed to demolish heavily fortified defensive positions, for which a new generation of glide bombs has been developed. These are bombs, not missiles, in that they do not have engines and therefore have to be dropped from aircraft. They do, however, have adjustable wings and fins and targeting systems under satellite control. They can also be dropped from over 40km away from their target, outside the range of most of the air defence systems available to Ukrainian troops on the front line.

With all these tactical and industrial advantages, in fact, one has to wonder why the war has lasted as long as it has. There are, however, two main reasons for this. The first is that the Russians only began their ‘special military operation’ with 190,000 regular troops, less than half the number the Ukrainians could put in the field and clearly not enough to conquer and hold the whole of Ukraine, let alone the whole of Europe, strongly suggesting, therefore, that President Putin’s principal objective was not to conquer anything, but merely to get the Ukrainians and their western allies back to the negotiating table. And, to some extent, he succeeded. Within two weeks of the Russians crossing the border, in fact, the Ukrainians agreed to hold peace talks, first in Minsk and then in Istanbul, where it took just three more weeks to draft an agreement which both sides were prepared to initial. It was only when Boris Johnson persuaded President Zelensky not to sign the agreement, therefore, that the Russians realised that their primary objective had failed and that they were in what was likely to be a protracted war, giving them two further problems.

The first was that they needed to mobilise and train a much larger army, which meant that, for the rest of 2022 and most of 2023, the war was more or less put on hold. To manage this new situation, General Sergei Surovikin, previously commander of Russia’s forces in Syria, was appointed as overall Commander in Chief in the Ukrainian theatre of operations with clear instructions to adopt a largely defensive posture. This he did by withdrawing troops from west bank of the Dnieper where they could easily be cut off, and from Kharkiv, where they were just too thin on the ground to hold the line. He also set up new defensive lines in Zaporizhzhia and Kherson, against which the Ukrainians fruitlessly threw away the lives 80,000 men during their summer offensive of 2023.

All this defensive activity, however, further reinforced the view of western governments and their attendant media that the Russians were militarily weak and encouraged NATO planners to urge their Ukrainian counterparts to mount even more offensive operations, losing even more men. What was really important about this brief hiatus in Russian operations, however, is the fact that while they were building up their strength, they were also redefining, not their objectives as such, but their strategy for achieving these objectives. For if they could not get the Ukrainians to meet their demands through negotiation, they now realised that they had to do it on the battlefield, not by taking more territory, which would inevitably lead to more losses, but by so degrading the Ukrainian army’s military capability that it would be forced to seek terms.

What this meant, therefore, was that the war now became even more static, which the West interpreted once again as a sign of Russia’s military weakness. For even in areas where they were still on the offensive, such as in the Donbas, they approached every Ukrainian defensive position with the utmost care so as to minimise their own losses. Not only did they spend weeks bombarding their targets but they further perfected the kind of siege tactics they had used so effectively at Mariupol, slowly and methodically encircling Ukrainian positions so as to cut off or greatly restrict resupply and reinforcement.

Almost incredibly, this Russian strategy of slow attrition – of slowly wearing away at the Ukrainians without sustaining unnecessary casualties themselves – was made even more effective by the fact that, for political reasons, the Ukrainians continually made the mistake of not withdrawing their forces from positions that were becoming untenable, but continued instead to feed men and supplies into what the Russians referred to as ‘cauldrons’, where they were systematically destroyed.

A perfect example of this is Bakhmut, which the Russians besieged for around nine months and into which the Ukrainians invested 36 whole brigades, each of around 4,000 men, most of which suffered up to 80% casualties before being  withdrawn. The result was that, by the time the city fell in May 2023, the Ukrainians had lost around 120,000 men to the Russians’ 30,000.

Even this level Russian casualties, however, was unacceptable to President Putin who consequently dismissed Yevgeny Prigozhin, a former friend and colleague from St. Petersburg whom he had made  head of the Wagner Group, but who clearly didn’t understand that the siege of Bakhmut was not intended to capture the city but to destroy as much of the Ukrainian army as possible and that Putin, himself, would not have cared if the siege had gone on for another nine months as long as the Ukrainians kept pouring men and equipment into it and as few Russians as possible were killed.

Having witnessed Prigozhin’s fate and the ruthless way in which Putin dealt with someone who was supposed to be his friend, it goes without saying that no Russian general ever made that mistake again, with the result that, even with the 30,000 casualties sustained in Bakhmut, over the last three and a half years, the ratio of Ukrainian losses to Russian losses has remained at around 7:1. That is to say that there have been seven Ukrainian casualties to every Russian casualty, with an estimated 1.2 to 1.5 million Ukrainians having been killed.

With so many Ukrainian young men fleeing abroad to avoid conscription, this has therefore led to what is now an acute manpower shortage which will almost certainly precipitate a catastrophic collapse in the Ukrainian army sometime this year. For there will come a point when it will simply not have enough men to fill the gaps in its lines.

7.    Ending the War

Most wars are won and lost long before they come to an end. It could be argued, for instance,  that the Germans lost the second world war at Stalingrad, more than two years before they finally surrendered. Equally, it could be argued that Ukraine lost this current war the moment President Zelenskyy declined to sign the Istanbul peace agreement, thereby forcing President Putin to confront the fact the Russia was now in a full-blown war and that he therefore had to place the country on a full war footing. As the Russians prepare to launch their summer offensive, therefore, which may well be the final straw that breaks the Ukrainian army’s back, the smart thing for the Ukrainians and their western allies to do right now would be not to wait for the axe to fall but to accept that the war is already lost and negotiate the best deal they can get.

The problem, of course, is that, from a Russian point of view, the main two terms of any deal they would be willing to accept are exactly what they have always been: that Ukraine remain neutral and that the rights of Russian-speakers living within Ukraine’s 1991 borders be protected, which today, of course, after three and a half years of war, actually means that those provinces with a majority Russian-speaking population would have to be ceded to the Russian Federation: terms which the collective West simply cannot accept, not because they are unreasonable, but precisely because they haven’t changed since 2014 and that to accede to them would therefore be to reward, not just Russian aggression, but Russian intransigence.

Besides which, the Banderite Ukrainian nationalists who really run Ukraine, for whom President Zelenskyy is merely the frontman, would never let him sign any peace treaty which excluded the possibility of Ukraine joining NATO or ceded any Ukrainian territory to Russia. Nor is there much chance of President Trump strong-arming Zelenskyy into doing something that would probably get him killed, especially given the fact that NATO is itself divided on this matter, with Britain and the EU strongly supporting the Ukrainians’ firm stance, albeit largely for reasons of their own. These include:

1.      The fact that they have maintained all along that the war in Ukraine is not just a local dispute between Ukraine and Russia, but an existential conflict between the forces of evil and the Liberal World Order and that to give into this evil would mean the end of civilization, making anything less than total victory over the Devil unacceptable and somewhat difficult to now spin.

2.      The fact that casting Russia as the enemy and a threat to all of Europe has, to some extent, served to distract voters from the unrestricted immigration, soaring energy prices and economic decline which the failed policies of Europe’s elite have brought upon them, such that to remove this distraction would be to expose Europe’s leaders to a growing populist backlash.

3.      The fact that the war in Ukraine has allowed national leaders such Sir Kier Starmer and Emmanuel Macron to concentrate their energies on foreign affairs – and hence appear to be world statesmen – rather than be forced to deal with problems at home, at which they have consistently revealed themselves to be incompetent.

4.      The fact that having a powerful and threatening enemy like Russia has enabled both the EU and the European elements within NATO to expand their power as the coordinators Europe’s defence, allowing them to take on the almost federal role to which these institutions aspire and which, one day, they will almost certainly assume.

This, therefore, just leaves the United States or, more precisely, Donald Trump as the sole champion of peace. For he knows that the war is lost and that the neo-con strategy of destroying Russia in order to protect the petrodollar has therefore failed. He also knows that the process of de-dollarization by the members of BRICS cannot be stopped. It can, however, be managed. After all, BRICS members do not want the value of the dollar denominated assets they currently hold to suddenly crash. It would be much better for all concerned, therefore, if de-dollarization happened slowly, in a controlled way, over say ten to fifteen years. Trump knows, however, that if he is going to get Russia and China to even informally agree to this, he has to develop a rapprochement with both of them, which he can’t do while the Ukrainian war continues.

His problem, however, is not just that neither the Ukrainians nor the Europeans want the war to end but that there are neo-cons in his own administration who are of the view that the neo-con project can still succeed, if not by war, then by negotiation, as long as the negotiations result in some sort of a defeat or climb-down by the Russians. Worse still, they seem to think that any peace deal must involve concessions on both sides and do not realise that, for the Russians, their two principal conditions are non-negotiable. Thus it is that even the Russians and Americans are talking largely at cross-purposes, with the result that, at the time of writing, the talks have actually broken down with the Russians committed to a military solution to the conflict.

This, however, raises two questions. The first is how much of Ukraine the Russians will take once the Ukrainian army has collapsed. Will they stop at the Dnieper River or will they take it all? For what it’s worth, my guess is that they will take it all, not to hold indefinitely, but to give them control while they remove the current government, appoint an interim administration and hold new elections from which Banderites will, of course, be excluded. This will then result in a legitimate but not wholly unfriendly government with which they will be able to sign a peace treaty, in which the new borders of Ukraine will be defined, its constitutional commitment to neutrality reaffirmed and the maximum size of its army specified.

The other question, however, is whether, once they see this happening, the West will feel the need to intervene, not just diplomatically, which they will almost certainly do, if only to provide an ‘honest broker’ during treaty negotiation – to which the Russians may well agree – but militarily, which would be very dangerous, not just for whatever ‘coalition of the willing’ agrees to provide troops, but for the whole world, in that it could lead to a geographic expansion of the conflict and raise the spectre of a world war.

One would like to think, of course, that our leaders would not be that stupid. Not only are Starmer and Macron delusional enough to think that they might achieve something by such an intervention, however, but if they sat back and did nothing, not only would they be seen, personally, as ineffectual and impotent, thereby putting their political careers in even more jeopardy than they are already in, but the institutions of which they are a part and which aspire to run a federal Europe would also be seen as ineffectual and impotent and might not therefore survive the populist uprising which could reshape the whole of Europe in the wake of this entire fiasco. If for no other reason, therefore, it is quite possible that a small cabal of our ruling elite might do something extremely stupid.