The last time the free world was in this much danger was during the Cuban missile crisis – and that was for precisely opposite reasons.
In 1962, at the height of the Cold War, there was no ambiguity about who was on what side. The Soviet Union was a communist dictatorship whose leader, Nikita Khrushchev, had threatened to “bury” the West. But the United States held its nerve in the face of what the Kennedy government knew was an epochal challenge, and the Russian weaponry was turned back in what might now be seen as a premonition of the collapse of the Eastern bloc.
Today, Russia is led by a dictator who has repudiated the utopian atheism of the communist cause, choosing instead to present himself as the prophet of a holy mission to restore the territorial integrity of ancient Rus: a religious commitment that he presumably did not mention when he was a serving officer in the KGB.
In what is beginning to seem like a surreal nightmare, the current embodiment of Russian imperialism has won the unequivocal support of the new American administration. There is very little point in trying to make sense of this, because there is no logic even to the arguments that are framed in terms designed to appeal to Western values.
Trump and Vance claim that Putin is not a threat to the West, that his military operations in Ukraine are simply a defence against attacks by Zelensky’s illegitimate regime. This is wickedly fallacious as a factual account of events, and the conclusion that apparently follows is blatantly self-contradictory.
In the very same pronouncements in which they proclaim Vladimir Putin’s benign intentions, the Trump-Vance team excoriate European leaders for failing to increase their defence spending and properly arm themselves against threats to Nato. But if Russia is an innocent victim and Putin is not an aggressor, where does the danger to Europe come from?
Either Putin is a peace-loving, reasonable interlocutor with whom we (which is to say, Trump) can do business – in which case Europe need not worry about increasing its defences – or he is determined to reclaim as much of Eastern Europe as he can seize – in which case the complicity of the Trump government is shameful.
Which is it? Is Putin a blameless, misunderstood victim and we can all go back to blithely spending our peace dividend on lavish welfare systems, or is he a malign actor who is an active threat to Nato countries, which must rearm as quickly as possible at their own expense?
And how can this instruction to Nato members to rearm at any cost be consistent with Trump’s support for the Russian claim that it is Nato expansion that is the cause of the recent conflict? Surely a rapid rearming of Nato members would justify Putin’s paranoia.
To add to the confusion, this contradictory accusation of Ukrainian aggression and European complicity has been embedded in a quite different, and more plausible, criticism of the criminalisation of free speech in the West. This is a theme that has great resonance among thinking people who value the precious liberties which open societies have traditionally regarded as sacred. But how can you excoriate democratic governments for what is a pernicious, but transitory, cultural fad when you are offering effusive and unconditional support to a dictator who murders his political opponents?
Some of this doctrine is just belligerent stupidity: a real or pretend ignorance of the basic facts of 20th-century history.
J D Vance excoriates the German political class for refusing to accept the AfD as a viable electoral choice, implying that this is a betrayal of democratic principle: if this is what the German people vote for, then that is what they should have.
Was he aware, when he chose to meet with the AfD leadership rather than the German chancellor in Munich, that there are sound historical reasons for conscientious Germans (and Europe as a whole) to fear an electoral result that might give power to such a party? Does he know that Hitler was elected in an open and legitimate democratic process?
Indeed, it was a quite deliberate decision by the European Union founders to give power to an unelected body – the European Commission – thereby creating a form of benign oligarchy that could counter any repeat of such an outcome.
I personally disliked this intensely. My chief reason for wishing to leave the EU was a belief that you should elect the people who make your laws. But I understand why Europeans with discreditable past experiences might have favoured such a safeguard.
Do Trump and Vance understand it? Or care about the historical guilt that gave rise to it?
The attempts to salvage Trump’s credibility – and legitimise support for him in this country – have now been reduced to rather desperate measures. Most widely reported is the he-didn’t-really-mean-it school, in which Trump is depicted as something of a jackass, who shoots his mouth off to create an effect but then judiciously draws back to a reasonable stance when the uproar becomes overwhelming.
Thus far, there is not much sign of any stepping back. What he is saying now is remarkably consistent with his first utterances on taking office, and neither he nor his people are giving any indication that his words are not to be taken literally.
Then there is the Trump-is-a-tactical-mastermind defence, which claims that this apparent naivety is a ruse to lure Putin into a trusting relationship that can then be used to undermine him. Good luck with that. If you think Putin is the guileless sucker here, you haven’t been paying attention.
In reality, Trump’s attitude is exactly as he describes it, with a frankness that is utterly shocking: he is agog with admiration and envy for Putin’s undisputed authority. To as great an extent as the US Constitution permits, and egged on by his Rasputin figure Elon Musk, he will emulate his hero.
On Ukraine, his position is straightforwardly brutal: if Zelensky wants any American support, he will have to hand over the country’s valuable mineral resources. That’s the deal. This is what the leadership of the free world has come to.
The last time the free world was in this much danger was during the Cuban missile crisis – and that was for precisely opposite reasons.
In 1962, at the height of the Cold War, there was no ambiguity about who was on what side. The Soviet Union was a communist dictatorship whose leader, Nikita Khrushchev, had threatened to “bury” the West. But the United States held its nerve in the face of what the Kennedy government knew was an epochal challenge, and the Russian weaponry was turned back in what might now be seen as a premonition of the collapse of the Eastern bloc.
Today, Russia is led by a dictator who has repudiated the utopian atheism of the communist cause, choosing instead to present himself as the prophet of a holy mission to restore the territorial integrity of ancient Rus: a religious commitment that he presumably did not mention when he was a serving officer in the KGB.
In what is beginning to seem like a surreal nightmare, the current embodiment of Russian imperialism has won the unequivocal support of the new American administration. There is very little point in trying to make sense of this, because there is no logic even to the arguments that are framed in terms designed to appeal to Western values.
Trump and Vance claim that Putin is not a threat to the West, that his military operations in Ukraine are simply a defence against attacks by Zelensky’s illegitimate regime. This is wickedly fallacious as a factual account of events, and the conclusion that apparently follows is blatantly self-contradictory.
In the very same pronouncements in which they proclaim Vladimir Putin’s benign intentions, the Trump-Vance team excoriate European leaders for failing to increase their defence spending and properly arm themselves against threats to Nato. But if Russia is an innocent victim and Putin is not an aggressor, where does the danger to Europe come from?
Either Putin is a peace-loving, reasonable interlocutor with whom we (which is to say, Trump) can do business – in which case Europe need not worry about increasing its defences – or he is determined to reclaim as much of Eastern Europe as he can seize – in which case the complicity of the Trump government is shameful.
Which is it? Is Putin a blameless, misunderstood victim and we can all go back to blithely spending our peace dividend on lavish welfare systems, or is he a malign actor who is an active threat to Nato countries, which must rearm as quickly as possible at their own expense?
And how can this instruction to Nato members to rearm at any cost be consistent with Trump’s support for the Russian claim that it is Nato expansion that is the cause of the recent conflict? Surely a rapid rearming of Nato members would justify Putin’s paranoia.
To add to the confusion, this contradictory accusation of Ukrainian aggression and European complicity has been embedded in a quite different, and more plausible, criticism of the criminalisation of free speech in the West. This is a theme that has great resonance among thinking people who value the precious liberties which open societies have traditionally regarded as sacred. But how can you excoriate democratic governments for what is a pernicious, but transitory, cultural fad when you are offering effusive and unconditional support to a dictator who murders his political opponents?
Some of this doctrine is just belligerent stupidity: a real or pretend ignorance of the basic facts of 20th-century history.
J D Vance excoriates the German political class for refusing to accept the AfD as a viable electoral choice, implying that this is a betrayal of democratic principle: if this is what the German people vote for, then that is what they should have.
Was he aware, when he chose to meet with the AfD leadership rather than the German chancellor in Munich, that there are sound historical reasons for conscientious Germans (and Europe as a whole) to fear an electoral result that might give power to such a party? Does he know that Hitler was elected in an open and legitimate democratic process?
Indeed, it was a quite deliberate decision by the European Union founders to give power to an unelected body – the European Commission – thereby creating a form of benign oligarchy that could counter any repeat of such an outcome.
I personally disliked this intensely. My chief reason for wishing to leave the EU was a belief that you should elect the people who make your laws. But I understand why Europeans with discreditable past experiences might have favoured such a safeguard.
Do Trump and Vance understand it? Or care about the historical guilt that gave rise to it?
The attempts to salvage Trump’s credibility – and legitimise support for him in this country – have now been reduced to rather desperate measures. Most widely reported is the he-didn’t-really-mean-it school, in which Trump is depicted as something of a jackass, who shoots his mouth off to create an effect but then judiciously draws back to a reasonable stance when the uproar becomes overwhelming.
Thus far, there is not much sign of any stepping back. What he is saying now is remarkably consistent with his first utterances on taking office, and neither he nor his people are giving any indication that his words are not to be taken literally.
Then there is the Trump-is-a-tactical-mastermind defence, which claims that this apparent naivety is a ruse to lure Putin into a trusting relationship that can then be used to undermine him. Good luck with that. If you think Putin is the guileless sucker here, you haven’t been paying attention.
In reality, Trump’s attitude is exactly as he describes it, with a frankness that is utterly shocking: he is agog with admiration and envy for Putin’s undisputed authority. To as great an extent as the US Constitution permits, and egged on by his Rasputin figure Elon Musk, he will emulate his hero.
On Ukraine, his position is straightforwardly brutal: if Zelensky wants any American support, he will have to hand over the country’s valuable mineral resources. That’s the deal. This is what the leadership of the free world has come to.