Trump - Zelenskyy

Mar 1 2025

I do not have a lot to add to the discussion about Zelenskyy’s “meeting” in the White House yesterday.

Except that, this may start to stir up some memories for a number of European countries. For example, a certain Molotov-Ribbentrop pact, with its Secret Protocol comes to mind. But maybe it is just me.

Below two pieces from The New York Times

A Day of American Infamy

The Disturbing Question at the Heart of the Trump-Zelensky Drama

Russia Will Not Stop

Feb 24 2025 The Guardian

An Opinion piece by Yaroslav Hrytsak, a historian and professor at the Ukrainian Catholic University in Lviv

Putin plays the long game. He has punished Ukraine – and he won’t stop there

I have a friend, an American author, who writes about war. Over the past decades, he has been to South Sudan, Rwanda, Congo, Afghanistan, Iraq, Gaza and other conflict zones. In the case of Ukraine, he said one thing stood out: here it was obvious who was the aggressor and who was the victim. Alongside Bosnia, Ukraine’s resistance to Russia remains, in his opinion, one of two truly just wars.

After three years of fighting a just war against Putin’s aggression, we are now facing, with Donald Trump, an unjust peace. Ukraine will lose lands and will not receive compensation for its losses. War crimes will go unpunished and Ukrainians will not be provided with the security guarantees needed to protect them from future Russian attack.

…

I would love to be wrong, but my historian’s gut tells me that in February 2022 the world entered a decade of war. The saying “if you want peace, prepare for war” remains as relevant after three years of war in Ukraine as it has been for 2,000 years.

2025 + x = 1938

Jan 7 2025 WiredGov
Updated Jan 14 2025 The New York Times

This is by Tim Willasey-Wilsey CMG, a Senior Associate Fellow in RUSI, i.e. the UK’s Royal United Services Institute.

Will 2025 be a Repeat of 1938 for Europe?

*****

And this one is from Chatham House, by Orysia Lutsevych OBE, Deputy Director, Russia and Eurasia Programme; Head of the Ukraine Forum

A rapid ceasefire in Ukraine could lead Donald Trump into a Russian trap

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The Jan 14 Update is by Lloyd J. Austin III, the US secretary of defense, and Antony J. Blinken, the US secretary of state.

Putin’s Plan for Peace Is No Peace at All

*****

These are way more detailed and much better written than my posts, and I agree 100%.

But a few issues I want to bring up, before I let you get on with the pieces.

There will eventually be negotiations to end the War in Ukraine, (sorry, not a war, The Special Military Operation).

If this will be a “Land for Peace” deal, then I will not exactly be very optimistic about the future in Europe. A “Land for Peace” deal will be short for a ”Land for Temporary Peace in Our Time” deal.

That was tried in 1938 and it did not work then, why on earth would it work now?

Russia started this, it is the aggressor, the invader, not Ukraine. Why on earth would Russia be rewarded with Ukrainian territory in a peace deal?

If some punks stole your car, got arrested and in the trial were given no sentence, and were allowed to keep the tires, “because they feel that they need them”, you probably would not say that the Rule of Law prevailed.

Why is the collective West saying that Ukraine joining Nato is off the table? I know that according to the rules a country at war can not join Nato, but once there is peace, what is the issue? Ukraine is an independent country, right? And BTW, they do have the most recent real battlefield experience in using Nato arms.

Why are we not giving more and better weapons to Ukraine, and why are we restricting the use of some of those weapons? Ukrainians are fighting and dying, and we are saying to them that they can only use some weapons in a certain way or only in Ukrainian territory. We do know this is War, with a capital W, right? Right?

We are rearming, at least some countries are, but collectively we are not rearming fast enough or decisively enough. Rearming sends a message to Russia, it does not mean we are rushing to start a war.

Expanding on this point, Russia has decimated its army and its military stockpiles, but it is using a third of its budget for the war, and even if it spends half of that rebuilding its military, it will have a much better trained and modern, and battle tested, army in the near future. We should be rearming to face that army, not the one that is fighting now.

Are we too focused on “First world problems” to see the real problem that aggressive Russia (or China) presents? Are our leaders politicians who worry about the results of the next election, and prioritise staying in power over long term security for our countries?

Have we forgotten that Russia started this war already in 2014, when it invaded Ukraine and illegally annexed Crimea? And in 2022 after a few years of another Phoney war, Russia continued the war and tried to finish the job, though that did not go according to plan.

Now, I have to ask, do you really think that if Russia gets a ”Land for Temporary Peace in Our Time” deal now, that it will not try again in a few years, once it has rebuilt its military? If it managed to hold some territory twice, why not Third Time Lucky.

As I said above, rearming sends a signal, and that signal would be that we will drive a hard bargain and we will be ready for whatever Russia plans.

A ”Land for Temporary Peace in Our Time” deal also sends a signal, and unfortunately that would be the same signal as in 1938; and that is that aggression works.

A quote from Seneca will be an apt ending for this post.

“Successful crime is dignified with the name of virtue;
the good become the slaves of the wicked;
might makes right;
fear silences the power of the law.”

What if Russia wins?

Dec 21 2024 The Guardian
Updated Jan 7 2025 The Washington Post

What if Russia wins in Ukraine? We can already see the shadows of a dark 2025

Ukraine can win.

Even if Ukraine loses part of its territory and the people living in the occupied areas, it can still win. I definitely do not prefer this outcome, I would very much like to see Russia pushed back from all Ukrainian territory.

But, if Ukraine, having lost territory, gains enough military assistance to deter Russia in the future, receives large scale investment for infrastructure reconstruction, and sees a clear path to EU membership, it will become a democratic, sovereign and independent nation, which will be part of Europe for generations to come.

That means that ultimately Russia loses and Ukraine wins.

To achieve this, more help to Ukraine NOW, so it can be in a position of strength when the peace negotiations eventually start.

*****

But, what if?

If peace will be agreed upon on Russian terms, then Ukraine loses and Russia wins.

A defeated Ukraine would mean yet another wave of refugees, growth of anti-western attitudes in Ukraine due to the inadequate military help and the forced peace, which would feed political instability in Ukraine and in Central Europe.

It would also embolden Russia, which would undoubtedly engage in more disinformation and destabilisation, election interference, and other forms of hybrid warfare. And since invading Ukraine worked, why stop there? And what about China and Taiwan?

Another point this piece highlights is nuclear proliferation. Ukraine gave up nuclear weapons in return for security assurances, but now one of the ‘security guarantors’ with the nuclear weapons Ukraine gave up, is waging war on Ukraine. No wonder some Ukrainians are now saying “It’s Nato or nukes”, and who would blame them, they are trying to survive, now and in the future.

And if you are a small and/or vulnerable country, what conclusion would you draw if Russia wins the war? If no one will defend you, you will have to do it yourself, and building the bomb is an obvious solution. And that means nuclear proliferation.

When there are more nuclear weapons in the world and more countries possess them, the more likely it will be that someone will use them.

The West has carefully tiptoed on the issue of military aid, afraid of “escalation”, letting Russian sabre rattling with nuclear weapons affect its decisions. But Russian red lines have been crossed many times by now, and the red lines proved to be just rhetorical.

Ukraine is fighting a war it did not start, and Ukrainians are dying in the war, and not just for Ukraine, but for Europe and the World. The West should give Ukraine whatever it needs to win this war.

I’ll end this post with a quote from the piece:

The conclusion is clear, and depressingly familiar. European democracies’ reluctance to pay a high price now means that the world will pay an even higher price later.

*****

Update - This is from the Editorial Board of The Washington Post on Jan 7 2025

Ukraine risks losing the war. A Trump-imposed bad deal would be worse.

A settlement that dismembers Ukraine and rewards Putin will undermine U.S. credibility.

Ukraine can hardly survive another year of this devastating war. But the haste to find a negotiated settlement could produce a bad one that would reward Mr. Putin for his land grab and guarantee he will launch a new attack for more territory once he has a chance to rebuild his depleted arsenal. A poor settlement would also leave Ukrainians bitter after seeing their homes, schools and factories destroyed, and friends and family members killed. Much of their anger would be directed at the Western backers who betrayed them. This is a fight America, and Ukraine, cannot lose, especially with a bad deal.

*****

A bad deal would mean that Ukraine loses and Russia wins.

And if Russia wins, it means that the US and Europe will lose as well.

And no matter how bad the Russian military planned and conducted the “special military operation”, a bad deal would mean that Russia’s long term strategy was right all along.

It would prove, to Russia and China among others, that the collective West, the Democracies, do not have the will or the capacity to fight a long war against a determined foe.

And if that is the case… why on earth would you stop with Ukraine?

‘Wartime mindset’?

Dec 27 2024 The Guardian

Wars happen to other people… right?

Well, that sentence is slightly wrong, it should be “wars happen to people”.

Wars happen to people like me, and to people like you.

When wars happen to those “other people” in the “faraway places”, you watch the news and read the papers, but once you turn off the TV or your newsfeed, you can, and will, go on with your normal everyday life, after all it did not happen to you, did it?

When war happens to you, your perspective changes, you shift to a “wartime mindset”. You will find out which bomb shelter to go to when the bombs start falling; you will pack a grab-bag with all your important documents, a few family photos and whatever you need to survive for a day or two; you will take a crash course in first aid; and at some point you will write a will. But the biggest change will be the realisation that war can happen to you, and that it is not a question of if, but when.

*****

A few weeks ago the Nato Secretary general, Mark Rutte, said that it is time to "shift to a wartime mindset" in Europe. Here is the link to that piece Nato must switch to a wartime mindset, warns secretary general

Oleksandr Mykhed, an Ukrainian writer, while sheltering from a missile attack, read that news story. Below is the link to his piece in The Guardian about what a ‘wartime mindset’ really means in Kyiv.

Can Europe switch to a ‘wartime mindset’? Take it from us in Ukraine: here is what that means

Merry Christmas 2024

2024 Christmas is here, and (this phase of) the war in Ukraine has now already lasted over 1.000 days…
that is nearly three very long years.

If you can support Ukraine in any way, please do. Ukraine is fighting for its survival, but it is also fighting for Europe and the world order based on the rule of law and basic human rights.

Here are three links for websites where you can find information on how you can support Ukraine, and what the EU is doing to support the country.

Support Ukraine

United24

EU support for Ukraine

There are obviously numerous other websites you can choose from as well, just check that the site you choose is a legitimate support site and not a scam.

Thank you for your support, it is valuable and appreciated.

*****

And since it is Christmas, here is a Christmas story for you, though with a slight twist.

A Christmas Carol, with an Easterly Twist

A Christmas Carol

This story was originally posted in a series over Easter 2023, not during the Christmas season.
(It can be found in the Not so Serious? section, at the moment.)

This story does have more than a slight Russian twist, and Easter being the major celebration for Orthodox Christians, it was an appropriate time to post it.

But, since it is Christmas and I called this a Christmas Story, albeit with a twist, I think it fits this season as well.

And obviously, many thanks to Charles Dickens, Mikhail Bulgakov, George Orwell, and many others.

So, without further ado, here it is:

*****

A Christmas Carol, with an Easterly twist

Part I - Easter, Boris Nikolayevich’s Ghost

Boris Nikolayevich was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that.

Vladimir Vladimirovich knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? He had arranged the funeral; had been there when they put him into the ground.

Long time ago they had been partners, and now Vladimir Vladimirovich took care of the business by himself.

Then why was he thinking about Boris Nikolayevich, the man had been dead for at least ten, or was it already fifteen years? Had someone mentioned his name during the day, or had something else reminded him, some insignificant detail maybe, he could not tell. He just could not help thinking about Boris Nikolayevich.

It was Easter, but for Vladimir Vladimirovich it was just another day in the office. He did not care what day it was, he was a busy man, and was always dealing with very important affairs of the state. He could not afford to take a day off, especially for a religious holiday, besides he had already had a photo-op at the church. Why would he take a day off for a fairy tale? For something that did not happen two thousand years ago. Humbug!

Anyway, even if he could take the day off, he definitely would not. He was hard as steel and sharp as flint, self-contained, secret, and solitary as an oyster. He always seemed to carry his own low temperature with him wherever he went, and external heat and cold had little influence on him. No warmth could warm, or no wintry weather chill him.

Besides, what would he do? And where would he go? He did not want to meet anyone, let alone ‘party’ with them. And he knew no one wanted to meet him, except of course those who wanted something from him. There was no cheerful friend or nephew or anyone, who would invite him to a party. But what did he care? It was the very thing he liked. To edge along on his solitary path in life, warning all human sympathy to keep its distance.

Once upon a time, there had been many colleagues and business acquaintances, and even people who called themselves his friends, but nowadays they were all living abroad, or were in prison, or were dead as door-nails. Indeed, he had made sure of that, he thought, with something resembling a faint smile on his steely face.

The door to his office opened and his secretary Ivan Ivanovich walked in, followed by two men. One was the General, you could tell by the amount of coloured strips and medals on his green uniform. The other was the Lawyer, one of the thousands of grey, nameless, faceless bureaucrats, working in some government department with a long name.

“Vladimir Vladimirovich,” the General started, trying to sound less official, “regarding the Special Military Operation. The current offensive is not advancing as well as we both had planned.” There was a pause, and then he continued, “The troops are running low on ammunition, equipment losses are high, and unfortunately the casualty figures are higher than expected.” There was another pause. “Well, we, the generals that is, think, to successfully continue the operation, think that we will need more boots on the ground. Another mobilisation.” Another pause. “And the arms industry. There is the issue of the timely replenishment of means of destruction. Although they are working three shifts, they are struggling to keep pace with the demands of the units conducting the Special Military Operation.”

“May I suggest something,” the Lawyer said, “we do have a law now that allows us to take over the management of arms manufacturers, if they fail to meet state contracts.”

“Well, there you are. Get more equipment out of storage, and take over the arms factories if you have to,” Vladimir Vladimirovich said to the General, and then turned to the Lawyer, “And?”

“Sir, as usual, I am worried about the economy and the public opinion. The sanctions; there is a possibility that soon hundreds of thousands will be in want of everyday comforts, the people will complain. And regarding the casualties; there are signs that the public opinion could turn negative in the future. That would not be good for the new mobilisation.”

Slippery, Vladimir Vladimirovich thought, turns with the wind. Lawyers. Have to keep an eye on him. “We are in an existential struggle for the survival of the Motherland. The Russian people are willing to sacrifice some common comforts for that. It is a patriotic duty.”

“Yes Sir, I am sure they are.” They both said at the same time, like they had rehearsed it.

Like parrots, Vladimir Vladimirovich thought. “And the public opinion; what is the situation with the media?”

“Well, all media outlets spreading deliberately false information about the Special Military Operation have been closed,” the Lawyer said.

“That is important, unity across society is vital. And what about the undesirables? Anyone questioning any actions of the State is part of a pro-enemy fifth column. They are trying to undermine the military and the Special Military Operation.”

“As you know, we have arrested everyone carrying out the activities of undesirable organisations. Well, nearly everyone, some managed to escape abroad,” the Lawyer replied. “But, there are still some in the country who engage in propaganda or protest.”

Vladimir Vladimirovich gave the lawyer a stern look, “Are there no Prisons?”

“Plenty of prisons, Sir.” The Lawyer replied.

“And lots of space in them”, the General added, “we have conscripted prisoners to the fight, so now there are empty cells.”

Well, this one is not totally useless, Vladimir Vladimirovich thought. He turned to the Lawyer again, “And the Correctional Colonies? Are they still in operation?”

“They are,” the Lawyer said, “I only wish we had more of them.”

“Plenty of space in Siberia. And the laws, you have amended them already? To be useful in the current situation?”

“We have, Sir,” the Lawyer said. “Discrediting the army is currently punished by five years in jail, while deliberately spreading false information about it, gives you 15 years. And the new law creating the digital draft system will help with the new mobilisation.”

“Well, you know what to do, apparently there are empty cells in the prisons.” He turned to the General, “and I will decide on the mobilisation soon.”

“Yes, Sir. Will do, Sir,” they replied.

He waved them off before they could say anything else, and Ivan Ivanovich escorted them out. He overheard them wish Happy Easter to his secretary, who cordially wished them likewise.

“What morons” he muttered, “who cares if it is Easter, I have a country to run. What do they think this is, a Charity!”

Ivan Ivanovich approached his desk, “Sir, they were the last ones for today. Do you need anything else tonight? If not, then I would like to join my family for the celebrations. It is Easter, you know.”

“I do know that. Easter is every year.” Vladimir Vladimirovich said, emphasising the word ‘every’. “Well, go on then, if you must. But back here in the morning, sharp.”

“Thank you, Sir. And although Easter is every year, it is only once a year.” Ivan Ivanovich said disarmingly. “And a Very Happy Easter to you, Sir.” He said as he closed the office door.

“Humbug” Vladimir Vladimirovich muttered, mostly to himself, as there was no one else in the room.

*****

Vladimir Vladimirovich had just retired to his private quarters, and was comfortably sitting by the fire reading some economic report, when something very peculiar happened. The fire suddenly grew, and he saw the face of Boris Nikolayevich in the flames. No doubt about it, it was the face of Boris Nikolayevich, in the flames. It looked slowly around the room, and then straight at him. It seemed to recognise him, smiled, and then disappeared. Vladimir Vladimirovich rubbed his eyes, but the flames were just flames again.

Despite the fire, Vladimir Vladimirovich suddenly felt cold, like someone had opened a window and let freezing winter air into the room. He sat back in his chair, and took a deep breath. The fire was burning, he was sitting in his chair, the report was in his hand, and everything was as it had been before. “Humbug” he said to himself and continued reading the report.

Once he had finished, he put the report down on the side table, and looked at his watch. It was midnight.

Just then he became aware of the fact that someone was singing. The sound seemed to come from somewhere from the bowels of the building, the lower floors or the basement. The singing became a bit louder, and although it was a bit out of tune, he recognised the song, it was the one about Moscow Nights.

The singing came closer, and now he could tell that it was coming from the hall. Suddenly, there was a loud crash and the sound of glass breaking, and the singing stopped. He could not tell for sure, but it sounded like someone was swearing.

“One of the guards probably, I’ll deduct that from his salary.” Then he heard footsteps coming closer, and the unmistakable clinking of vodka bottles in a plastic bag. And the singing started again. “What the Hell? Are they drunk? I’ll send the lot of them to Siberia!” But before he could even stand up, Boris Nikolayevich walked through the door. Let me be clear, he did not open the door and walk in, he walked, straight through, the door.

It was Boris Nikolayevich, the same face, the same hair, the same manner, same everything, except that he was transparent. Like a ghost. He was still singing, raised his hand for dramatic effect, and blasted out the last chords of the song in a great finale. After a pause, and obviously satisfied with his performance, he looked at Vladimir Vladimirovich.

“Tripped on the stairs. Did you have a new carpet put in? Watch your step when you go down, there’s some glass, or you know...” The ghost uttered, with a bit of a slur.

Vladimir Vladimirovich stared at the apparition, “But you are dead.”

“Indeed I am, “ the ghost replied cheerfully, “how could I be a ghost otherwise?” He sat down on the other chair by the fire. “But Vladimir Vladimirovich, my friend, good to see you! It has been too long. What is it, ten, fifteen years? My memory is not what it used to be. Have a drink, old boy.”

It was then that Vladimir Vladimirovich noticed that the ghost had a bottle of vodka in his hand. A glass materialised from somewhere and the ghost filled it up. “Na Zdorovie” the ghost emptied his glass, and threw it into the fire. “I would offer you a drink, but this is ghost stuff, you would not taste a thing.”

“But, you Are Dead.” Vladimir Vladimirovich repeated.

“Yes, I know I’m dead. You know I’m dead. Everybody knows Boris Nikolayevich is dead. But here I am, visiting you, my old friend.”

Ghost or not, he is obviously drunk, Vladimir Vladimirovich thought. “Well, what do you want?”

“Me? I want nothing.” The ghost pointed his transparent finger at Vladimir Vladimirovich, “I was sent to warn you.”

“Warn me? Why? Is someone trying to kill me?” He looked hurriedly around the room but there was no one there. “And who sent you?”

“Not so fast, one thing at a time. First, a drink. Na Zdorovie.” and he emptied another glass. “Well, I was at my dacha, and this fellow comes to me, tells me to come visit you,” the Ghost said while he filled another glass.

“A fellow, at your dacha? Who sends ghosts to visit people?”

“I think he was German, spoke funny. Don’t know his name, but the others called him Professor.”

“What others?” Vladimir Vladimirovich started to get a bit irritated at his drunk guest, ghost or not.

“Take it easy, old boy, take it easy. Na Zdorovie. He, this Professor fellow, a nice guy by the way, he has been here, in Moscow. Sometime before the war I think, and his friends too, a weird bunch. But they had some really funny stories.”

“Get to the point.” Vladimir Vladimirovich was really starting to lose patience.

“I will, I will.” The ghost started to pour yet another drink, but the bottle was empty. He threw it away and a new bottle materialised from somewhere. “The thing is, this Professor, and his buddy, what was his name… Fagotto, or something… and the other guy, with the funny eyes, and the Redhead. Oh, she was nice…” he stopped and stared into space for a while with a smile on his face, then he continued, “and there was a cat as well, at least I thought it was a cat.”

“A cat? You are not making any sense.”

“Anyway, they told me to come visit you, and here I am.”

“Visit me? And with a warning?”

“Oh yes. He said to tell you, this Professor fellow: If you do not get your act together, you’ll end up like Boris Nikolayevich. You know, like me.”

“Like you?”

“Yes, like me. Wandering around for all eternity, totally forgotten, no friends, all alone, with an endless supply of vodka.” He looked straight at Vladimir Vladimirovich with profound sadness in his transparent eyes. “Like me, Vladimir Vladimirovich, like me… Na Zdorovie.”

The ghost filled his glass again in silence. “Anyway, you will soon be visited by three Spirits.”

“Spirits? What spirits?”

“Spirits, you know, like me, ghosts.”

“And why would they visit me?”

“Don’t know,” he shrugged, “said they’ll show you something.”

“Show me, something? What?”

“I don’t know, did not tell me. Listen old boy, I got the sense that this is strictly on a need-to-know basis, and I-did-not-need-to-know. And believe me, you do not want to argue with them, not with this lot.” Then he seemed to remember something, “Oh, I nearly forgot. This Professor fellow, he also told me, to tell you, about Easter. That something really happened two thousand years ago, said he was there. Whatever that means… Na Zdorovie.”

Vladimir Vladimirovich did not understand how the Ghost knew what he had thought about Easter? “And these three Spirits? Who are they? And when…?”

“I don’t know. Tonight, I guess.” The ghost seemed to lighten up, “But, Vladimir Vladimirovich, you should have seen the Redhead. Beautiful. Had a thing on her neck, but otherwise, Perfect. The legs, like a gazelle, and beautiful round hips, and, oh, a perfect pair of…”

“And how will I know they are Spirits?” Vladimir Vladimirovich cut him off.

“Oh you’ll know. They are Spirits. Probably like me, you know, transparent like.”

“Transparent like… now that helps a lot.”

“Well, anyway. It was nice seeing you,” the Ghost said cheerfully, “I must be off. And don’t worry, if this does not work out for you old boy, you can always join me. We can wander the world together, talk about old times.”

Wandering the world with Boris Nikolayevich’s ghost was definitely not a future that Vladimir Vladimirovich would be looking forward to, then again, the thought of three Spirits visiting him did not fill him with joy either.

The ghost stood up and walked towards the door. “Three Spirits, Vladimir Vladimirovich, Three Spirits.” Then he went through the door and was gone.

Vladimir Vladimirovich heard him walking in the hall, followed by the constant clinking of vodka bottles, and then after a pause, a faint,

“Na Zdorovie!”

*****

Part II - Ghost of Easter Past

Vladimir Vladimirovich sat in his chair for a long time. Had Boris Nikolayevich, or his ghost to be precise, visited him or had he dreamt it all. Or had he been poisoned and he was hallucinating? Everything seemed normal, and he felt good, so no poison. He thought about calling the guards, but they might think he was crazy asking about Boris Nikolayevich, and then the word would spread, ‘the boss has lost it’. If he really had been visited by a ghost, it would mean that ghosts exist, and he knew they did not. Or, did they?

The fire slowly died and he noticed that the room had become cold. He got up, said “Humbug” to no one in particular, and went to bed.

He could not have slept for long, since it was still dark when someone shouted, “Wake up, no time to waste,” and kicked his bed so hard that it shook. He woke up instantly and saw a dark figure peering over him. “Get up. We have to go.”

“What the hell is this, in the middle of the night?” Vladimir Vladimirovich thought as he sat up on the bed, “Who dares disturb me at this hour? Where are the guards?”

Then a horrible thought hit him, “A coup! It’s a coup.” His mind started racing, “This is it.” “Are they going to finish me off here and now?” “Take me to Ljubyanka?” “Or a trial?” “How did they get in?” “Who betrayed me?”

“Davai davai davai, ” the dark figure gestured for him to get up.

“Definitely a coup. Who the hell is this?” He turned on the lamp by the bed, looked at the figure, and froze. He could not believe his eyes. First of all, in the light he could see that the figure was transparent, like Boris Nikolayevich, a Ghost. But what really surprised him was that he recognised who this was. No mistaking, those piercing eyes and that moustache, “Joseph Vissarionovich?”

“Well, who did you expect? And by the way, if this was a coup, you would be drinking with Boris Nikolayevich by now. Didn’t that drunk tell you I was coming?”

“So, it had really happened, I have really been visited by a ghost, and here was another one. And how did he know I thought this was a coup,” he thought, and then replied timidly to the Ghost, “He only mentioned Spirits, three Spirits.”

“Well, here I am, the first Spirit,” the Ghost leaned closer and said in a low menacing whisper, “the Ghost of Easter Past,” and added, “Your past.”

Somehow hearing that filled Vladimir Vladimirovich with dread. “What happens now?”

“We are going on a trip,” the Ghost said cheerfully. “Get up, davai davai davai.”

Vladimir Vladimirovich reluctantly stood up, and the room around him started to disappear, first the walls, then the furniture, and then the floor; in the end he was standing in total darkness. Then he saw lights approaching in the distance, and soon he entered a city. He was moving through the streets with unnatural speed, though he felt no wind or other normal effects of speed.

The buildings lining the streets were mostly joyless grey, from what seemed to be decades of soot, grime and dirt, and the few streetlights only managed to light small blotches here and there. The whole city gave the impression of an old black and white photograph, with a few bits of colour added afterwards.

He came to a large square and passed a statue of some historical figure, with the ruins of some old building behind it. Then he crossed a river, and entered a residential street on the other side. There were a few people walking on the streets, and there were lights in the windows. He was moving slower now, turned a corner, and came to a halt in front of a drab grey house. “I know this place,” he exclaimed, surprised.

“Your old office.” The Ghost had materialised next to him from somewhere. “Let's look inside.”

They approached a window and looked inside.

Vladimir Vladimirovich could not believe his eyes; he saw himself at a desk, although a much younger version of himself. He looked so young. In front of the desk there was a man slouched on a chair, and two uniformed guards were standing by the door. The man was holding his head in his hands, and was muttering something incomprehensible.

The younger Vladimir Vladimirovich signed some papers, put them in a folder and said to the guards, “we are done here.”

“What now, the Germans?” One of the guards asked.

“Yes, tell them to pick him up, let them deal with this. Take him away.”

The guards grabbed the man by the arms and lifted him up from the chair. The man looked like he could barely stand, and he dragged his feet, as the guards walked him out of the office.

“And another good day’s work done, for a loyal servant of the Party and the Motherland,” the Ghost said, with just a hint of sarcasm.

His younger self stood up and put the folder into a filing cabinet. He locked it, put the key in his pocket, took his coat and hat, switched out the lights and left the office.

“Your last, happy Easter in Dresden,” the Ghost whispered in his ear, emphasising the word ‘happy’.

After a while, they saw his younger self exit the house. He walked down the road a bit and reached a parked car. He stopped and started scanning the surroundings, as if to check if he was followed. He checked the other side of the street, and then turned to look straight at them. They both immediately ducked down behind a wall. “Did he see us,” Vladimir Vladimirovich asked nervously.

“Of course not, we are spirits. Can’t see us,” the Ghost replied, “it’s instinctive, you know, this hiding. Hard to get used to being invisible. And I have been doing this for 70 years.”

By now, his younger self had got into the car and drove off.

“Maybe you are on one of your secret surveillance operations,” the Ghost said. “Let's see where you are going.”

They followed the car from a discrete distance around the city, along a seemingly random route. After driving for about half an hour, his younger self turned into a side street, and parked the car in a dark spot between two streetlights.

His younger self came out of the car, looked around, and started walking back towards them. They quickly entered a dark corridor, and hid in the back against the wall. As his younger self was passing, he suddenly stopped and looked suspiciously into the dark. He was looking straight at Vladimir Vladimirovich, who did not even dare to breathe.

The seconds passed as they were looking at each other. Then a huge black cat appeared from the back of the corridor. It walked past the younger man, paying absolutely no attention to him and then vanished somewhere into the dark street.

“Now that was exciting,” the Ghost whispered, as the younger man continued on his way, “looks like you sensed your presence. It happens sometimes, when you meet yourself. And did you see the size of that cat?”

As his younger self turned around the corner, they came out of the doorway and hurried after him. He walked for a few blocks further, turned another corner, crossed the street and then entered an old building.

By now Vladimir Vladimirovich knew exactly where they were, and what his younger self was doing here. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Me? I did not bring us here. We followed You, remember,” the Ghost said feigning innocence. “Your private secret safehouse, for your important, discreet and totally secret operations.” He looked up at the windows on the second floor, “shall we?”

They were looking into the living room of an apartment, nothing fancy, but comfortable, one you could live in. Then they saw the young Vladimir Vladimirovich enter the room, “Victoria,” he called, and a young beautiful woman came from another room and ran to his arms. “Nikolai, I missed you.”

“Nikolai? Did not tell your real name to her then,” the Ghost said, “always by the book. Except, of course, her,” he said looking at the young woman, “Victoria, the lovely Victoria. How old was she, eighteen?”

“Nineteen, but you knew that already,” was the dry reply.

“That’s right, nineteen. And you gave her a birthday present.”

Just then his younger self gave a small package to the woman. “This is for you.”

“For me,” she said, acting surprised.

“It has your name on the box.”

She untied the red ribbon and unwrapped the package. “Oh it does, wonder what kind of secrets there are in it?” She opened the box. “But Nikolai,” she lifted a piece of red lacey lingerie from the box, “beautiful, oh, this is So Beautiful. Must have cost a fortune, how did you get it?”

“I have connections,” his younger self said smiling.

She hugged and kissed him again. “I want to try this on. You open the champagne, while I change.” And she ran into the other room.

“You did not get that from Dresden, did you,” the Ghost said, “smuggled from the West by one of your contacts, I guess.”

Vladimir Vladimirovich did not reply. His younger self went to another room, apparently the kitchen, and came back with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. He opened the bottle with a pop, and filled the two glasses. “How are you doing in there? Hope it is the right size?” “Oh, it is beautiful,” came the reply, “just wait till you see me.”

“So, this is how you develop an intelligence asset,” the Ghost wondered.

“She was an active member of the Freie Deutsche Jugend,” Vladimir Vladimirovich countered a bit annoyed.

“I’m sure, that was not her only asset,” the Ghost said. And before Vladimir Vladimirovich could say anything else, she appeared in the doorway wearing the lingerie, and nothing but.

“How do I look?” She asked with a smile, as she leaned against the doorframe.

“Definitely, not her only asset,” the Ghost declared. “That is what I call a true comrade, totally dedicated to the cause.”

His younger self stood up, took both champagne glasses from the table and walked over to her. “You look perfect.” He gave her a glass. “Happy Birthday.”

She sipped some champagne and put her arms around him, still holding the glass, “I love you, Nikolai Alexandrovich.” Then she kissed him and pulled him to the other room.

They were left staring at the empty room.

“Then, The Wall came down, and she dumped you,” the Ghost said unceremoniously.

“Left a note on that very table, ‘Dear Nikolai, It was fun while it lasted, but now it is over. Anyway, Victoria belongs to the victorious side. Send me a postcard from Leningrad. XXX.”

*****

The room disappeared, and suddenly they were standing beside a big statue of a woman in a carriage, drawn by four horses. It was a sunny day, and Vladimir Vladimirovich realised they were on top of a monument, and there was a huge joyous crowd of people below them.

“Where was I,” the Ghost said looking at the statue, “oh, Victoria, in her lacey red lingerie, ever wondered who else she wore it for?” Vladimir Vladimirovich did not reply. “Married a lawyer, a human rights lawyer,” the Ghost said, emphasising the last three words. “Human rights, can you believe that? Human rights? What a wishy-washy, bleeding-heart, weakling idea,” the Ghost said with contempt, and added, ”what rights?”

There was The Wall on one side of the monument, and crowds of people on both sides. They were climbing on top of The Wall, some were drinking champagne, and a few were even hammering pieces off the wall, and no one did anything to stop them.

“Remember when the crowd stormed the Stasi headquarters in Dresden,” the Ghost asked, “and then they tried to storm yours. You called the Red Army for protection. Remember what they said? We cannot do anything without orders from Moscow,” he added mockingly.

“And Moscow is silent." Vladimir Vladimirovich said silently.

“And Moscow is silent,” the Ghost repeated, “nobody lifted a finger, they did absolutely nothing, and because of that, they lost everything.”

Vladimir Vladimirovich did not say anything, there was nothing to say. He just watched the crowd below as they celebrated their newfound freedom, and the end of his world.

“I built the Empire, and they just gave it away,” the Ghost said, “first half of Europe, then the Baltics, Belarus, Ukraine, and then the Caucasus, even the Stans. And what were they left with? An Empire hacked to pieces. For what?” Pointing to the crowd below, he added incredulously, “and for Them?”

They were silent for a while, both lost in their thoughts, then the Ghost added, “we all cried, not a dry eye in the house. Even Yezhov and Beria. Can you believe that, Beria, crying. You should have seen that.”

“I have seen enough,” Vladimir Vladimirovich said.

*****

Part III - Ghost of Easter Present

There was a cosy fire burning when Vladimir Vladimirovich came back to his room. Remembering his past and especially seeing it, had been exhausting, and for a while he stared into the fire with glazed eyes. He was thinking about Dresden and Victoria, and how happy he had been, but slowly his eyes grew heavy, and he fell asleep in his chair.

He woke up to a feeling that he was not alone. The fire was still burning, and as he looked around the room, he noticed that there was someone sitting in the other chair.

“Thought you would never wake up. A rough trip, was it? They said you might be tired after your first trip.”

This one was a ghost as well, Vladimir Vladimirovich realised. It was transparent like the ones before, and knew about his previous trip. “And, who might you be?”

“Me? I am a Spirit,” the Ghost replied as he stood up, “we should be going.”

Vladimir Vladimirovich looked at the Ghost and recognised him, “you are Boris Nemtsov.”

“I used to be. Tonight I am the Ghost of Easter Present,” the Ghost replied.

“Why you?”

“Well, the Professor has a wicked sense of humour. And the others thought this was a hilarious idea,” the Ghost said, “but, now we have to go.” As soon as he had said that, the room disappeared, and they were standing on a street, which was definitely not in Russia. The afternoon sun was shining, there was a canal in the middle of the street, and the houses had three or four stories, and were painted with different colours.

“Joseph Vissarionovich insisted that I bring you here. Normally I would not do anything he says, but this really is a good idea,” the Ghost said.

“Amsterdam, maybe,” Vladimir Vladimirovich thought.

“Just in time,” the Ghost said, and pointed up the street.

A sports car, with its top down, was coming down the street. As it approached them, it slowed down, obviously looking for a suitable place to park. There was a space on the canal side, and once the car was parked, the driver got out.

It was Victoria. She was older now, and her hair was different, but no doubt about it, it was Victoria. And she still looked beautiful. She took a small bag from the car, crossed the street, and entered the house in front of them.

“Nice ride. 718 Boxster. I wouldn’t mind having one of these,” the Ghost said examining the car. “Looks like red is still her favourite colour.” He turned to Vladimir Vladimirovich, “got it from her husband, a birthday present,” and pointing at the house, continued, “want to look inside?”

Through the second floor window they saw a dining room and a lot of people setting the table, and bringing food from the kitchen.

“The one setting the plates is their younger daughter, and the one setting the glasses is her boyfriend,” the Ghost explained, “the pregnant one is their older daughter, and her husband is the one bringing the roast.”

Victoria entered, and the young man with the wine bottles shouted, “she’s here.”

“And that is their son,” the Ghost added. A man came from the kitchen with a bottle of champagne, and a pretty young woman carried a tray of tall glasses. “The husband, and the son’s girlfriend.”

The champagne bottle opened with a pop, and he filled the glasses. The girlfriend served everyone a glass, and they gathered around the table, Victoria by the side of her husband.

“We did not have a big celebration for your mother’s birthday, I was busy at work as always, and anyway she did not want to celebrate without all of you here,” the husband started, “she did get a nice car though.” Everyone laughed, and Victoria gave her husband a kiss on the cheek. “But, now that you are all here, we can celebrate her birthday and Easter at the same time.”

“I do love the car,” Victoria said, “but more than that, I love it that the people I love the most in this world are here today,” and turning to her husband, “and I do love you.” And she gave him another kiss.

“Happy Birthday,” her husband said, as he raised his glass, “and happy Easter.”

“I bet that champagne is better than the one you managed to get her in Dresden,” the Ghost commented.

Vladimir Vladimirovich turned away from the window, “Why did you bring me here? And where are we anyway?”

“Why show you this? She made her choice,” the Ghost replied, “and you made yours.”

Vladimir Vladimirovich did not reply, and the Ghost continued, “she married a human rights lawyer, remember?”

“We’re in The Hague.”

*****

Before Vladimir Vladimirovich could say a word, the city around them disappeared, and they were in what seemed to be a dark room. There was a small green wooden box in the middle and a small light on top of it.

Vladimir Vladimirovich looked around and saw that there were bunks along the walls and men sitting or sleeping in them. Maybe five or six in the room, he could not tell for sure. The floor was muddy, and when his eyes got used to the dark, he saw that the walls were made of logs. He then looked at the men closer, and saw that they were all in uniform. They had assault rifles and other weapons and there were ammunition boxes scattered on the floor. “This is a dugout,” he thought, “we are somewhere on the front.”

He heard what sounded like automatic gunfire and distant explosions, but no one in the dugout reacted to the sounds, everyone looked dirty and tired.

“Boys, it’s Easter today,” someone said from the darkness.

“Well, Happy Easter then,” came the tired reply.

“What exactly is happy with it,” someone added sarcastically.

“Guys, I have a question. If you die on Good Friday, do you go straight to Heaven, or do you have to wait for three days like Jesus.”

Laughter.

“If you are going to get all religious, why don’t you convert to Islam while you are at it. I hear they get virgins as well,” said the one looking at the maps.

Laughter.

“A day or three days, or virgins. You don’t have to worry about that,” added the one cleaning his rifle, “it won’t be Heaven we will be going to, and no rush to get to the other place.”

There was silence, apart from the explosions and gunfire from outside.

After a while the door opened, and light streamed into the dugout and the sounds from the outside became clearer. A man entered carrying a rifle in one hand and a bundle in the other.

“Boys, look what I managed to get for us.”

He sat down and started opening the bundle on the box in the middle. A black cat jumped down from a bunk, and walked carefully across the muddy floor to the box.

“See, even the cat knows this is something good,” he said as he unwrapped a small cake with yellow frosting on it. “Happy Easter boys.”

“How did you manage to get that,” said the one with the rifle, he was loading magazines now.

“Bought it from a Babushka in a village at the back. Spent all I had left for it.”

“Wise decision, better spend than save. Can’t take it with you, and can’t bribe your way into heaven with it.”

Laughter. The cat was licking the sugary wrapping, and glanced at the man with the cake.

“Go on, you had your share,” he pushed the cat gently off the box, and took out a big knife, “Now I just have to work out how to cut this into seven pieces.”

“Make it six. The new boy got it in the morning.”

Silence. The cat walked to the door, stopped and turned to look back inside. It stayed there for a moment, and then walked out, probably to chase some unfortunate mouse.

“Six pieces then.” He cut the cake in silence and gave everyone a slice. “Well boys, Happy Easter anyway.”

There was a bright flash, and Vladimir Vladimirovich saw the men, the weapons, the ammunition boxes, the bunks, the dugout itself and everything in it, dissolve into the bright white light.

*****

They were in a courtyard. There was a young woman with two children there, one of them, about five years old, was on the swing, and the younger one was playing with some sticks. The woman looked up, and her face lit up. “Look, who’s coming,” she said to the children.

Vladimir Vladimirovich saw his secretary Ivan Ivanovich enter the courtyard. The children ran to him and he hugged them. “They wanted to wait for you,” she said, and kissed him.

Ivan Ivanovich picked up the younger child, “Let’s go in, let’s see who else is here.”

They entered the building, and the Ghost and Vladimir Vladimirovich followed. They came to a big apartment that was full of people.

“Natasha and Ivan are here,” someone shouted. Everyone greeted them and soon the children ran in and disappeared somewhere into the crowd. It looked like everyone who lived in the building was in this apartment.

There was a table full of food and drink, and people standing around it eating and talking.

“Ivan, you made it,” an older woman exclaimed, and embraced him. “Happy Easter mother,” Ivan replied.

“Come, have something to eat,” she said, and led him to the table. While his mother was filling his plate, he noticed his wife talking to a young woman holding a baby. They were obviously talking about the baby, who could not be more than a few months old.

An older man next to Ivan gave him a small glass and filled it from a bottle of vodka, “looks like Natasha would not mind giving me another grandchild,” he said.

“I am working on it father, I am working on it,” Ivan replied smiling. He raised his glass, “Happy Easter.”

“To the future,” the older man replied, “Na Zdorovie.”

Vladimir Vladimirovich noticed a big black cat jump on to a chair by the table. It took the vodka bottle in its paws, filled a glass, and drank it in one go. Then it wiped its whiskers with its paw, took a pickled gherkin from a plate and jumped on top of a bookshelf to eat it.

“Did you see that,” Vladimir Vladimirovich said astonished.

“Well, he does have a taste for vodka,” the Ghost replied, “come on, I need to show you something.”

*****

They appeared on an empty cold street. There were three emaciated children huddled among some cardboard boxes trying to stay warm. They were dressed in rags, and anyone could see that they were hungry and miserable.

Unlike other people, the children noticed them, and Vladimir Vladimirovich realised that they could see him and the Ghost. “They can see us.”

“Yes, they can. You see, they are not exactly real,” the Ghost said, as the children slowly stood up and walked towards them. “They are the brothers Bezdomny, representations of possible futures. He is called Ignorance,” the Ghost introduced the oldest one.

“My name is Freedom,” the skinny one said, “and I am called War,” the one with the limp added.

“And where is your little brother,” the Ghost asked.

“He’s there,” Ignorance said, pointing to a small bundle of rags among the boxes.

Now Vladimir Vladimirovich could see that there was a fourth very small child sitting in a corner of a cardboard box, shivering in the cold.

“He is too weak to stand up,” Freedom added. And War asked, “Can you give us something to eat, mister?”

“They don’t have anything to give us,” Ignorance said.

“I know that. But it is always worth a try,” War replied.

Still looking at the smallest child Vladimir Vladimirovich asked, “and what is his name?”

“Hope,” the Ghost replied, “and, if things do not change, he will be the first one to die.” And looking straight at Vladimir Vladimirovich, he added, “If You do not change.”

“What do you mean? If I don’t change.”

“You have the power to shape the future,” the Ghost said, “the power to save these children or to let them die.”

“But you just said they weren’t real.”

“I did. You are right, they are not real, but, in the future, they can be. It’s Your decision.” And as the Ghost said that, the street started to disappear, and soon Vladimir Vladimirovich was back in his room.

*****

Part IV - Ghost of Easter Yet to Come

There was someone standing in front of the fire. He was tall and thin, and dressed all in black.

“And you must be another ghost,” Vladimir Vladimirovich said exhausted.

The figure in black did not reply. He turned and looked at Vladimir Vladimirovich. He was wearing spectacles, which seemed to be useless, as one lens was cracked and the other was totally missing. He bowed politely, as if to greet him, and walked to the door.

“He does not speak Russian,” someone said. The voice seemed to come from his chair. Vladimir Vladimirovich looked and saw that there was a black cat curled up on the chair, the same cat he had seen previously. The cat stretched and said, “anyway, he is the Ghost of Easter Yet to Come.”

“First ghosts and now talking cats?” Vladimir Vladimirovich said.

“What’s wrong, haven’t you seen a talking cat before? You should be going,” the cat said, “I’ll stay here by the fire.”

The Ghost had opened the door and held it open for Vladimir Vladimirovich.

The cat stood up on two legs, and gently pushed Vladimir Vladimirovich towards the door, “Don’t happen to have any vodka here, I could have a few while I wait.”

Vladimir Vladimirovich walked out and the Ghost followed him. They walked down the stairs and along the corridors, and the Ghost always politely opened the doors for him and let him go first. Finally they came to his office.

It was his office alright, but the furniture was different.

“Welcome to your old office,” the Ghost said.

“But, I thought you did not speak Russian,” Vladimir Vladimirovich said.

“And who told you that? You believe a cat who talks, and drinks vodka,” the Ghost replied, “you should know better.”

There was a group of people sitting around a table discussing something. “Let me present to you, the Government,” the Ghost said and walked around the table, “Vladimir Kara-Murza, Ilya Yashin, Yevgeny Roizman…”

“But they are in prison, I put them there,” Vladimir Vladimirovich interrupted.

“They were in prison, in your time. This is the future.”

“You mean…”

“Yes, after your time.” The Ghost looked at some documents on the table, “Looks like they are discussing some infrastructure framework deal with the EU. Interesting.”

“With the EU,” Vladimir Vladimirovich said, astonished.

“Don’t look so gloomy. Besides, it’s boring stuff, legal jargon, bureaucratic. Let’s go outside, it is a lovely day.”

*****

And with that they were walking on a street. It was a sunny day, and there was a long queue of people along the sidewalk.

“And what would they be queueing for,” the Ghost asked excitedly. “This is like in the old days. Queueing to buy something of inferior quality, something of second-grade freshness maybe, to buy anything.”

“The economy has crashed,” Vladimir Vladimirovich said vindicated, “I knew they could not run the country.”

They walked along the queue, which seemed to have a joyous atmosphere, which felt strange for a country in depression. They followed the queue, even turned a corner, and then finally arrived at a big official looking building.

“But this is not a department store,” the Ghost said astonished.

“What are they queueing for then? Government handouts?” Vladimir Vladimirovich asked, irritated.

“Oh, I see,” the Ghost said, and pointed at a sign by the door. Vladimir Vladimirovich looked at it. “Voting Hours Extended” it said in big black letters.

“Looks like there is an election,” the Ghost said, and added, “well, spirits can’t vote. Let’s go somewhere else, somewhere peaceful.”

*****

They were in a cemetery, an old one. The gravestones were mossy and overgrown, and the paths looked unused. There was no one else there.

The Ghost walked to a grey gravestone, it had a piece missing in one corner and it was leaning to one side. He wiped the surface with his hand, “Can you read this? V-L-A-D-I-M-I-, is that an R?… V-L-A-D… Hey, this is yours,” he exclaimed with excitement, “was not sure we could find it.”

Vladimir Vladimirovich looked at the stone. His name was there all right. The rest of what was written on the stone was covered with dead leaves and grasses. “Why is no one taking care of this,” he asked irritated.

“It is a bit on the side, at the back. You know, a long way from the gate,” the Ghost started, but just then they heard someone approaching.

“This way, back here,” a man appeared, he walked with a limp and had a walking stick. One could tell that he had a prosthetic leg. A woman and a small boy followed him.

“A veteran, paying his respects,” Vladimir Vladimirovich said proudly.

“Mihail, I don’t like this place, this is creepy,” the woman said, “and what will people think if they see us here, visiting his grave.”

“Who will see us here, look around, there is no one here,” the man countered, “Irina, no one, ever, comes here, ever.”

“But, Mihail, why did you want to come here then,” the woman asked.

“I told you, wanted to see his grave for myself. To see he is dead. To show him that I’m still here. Still alive.” And he added, “and to make sure that he stays dead, and six feet under.” He was silent for a while, just staring at the grave. “The stupid war…”

“Daddy, look there is a squirrel,” the boy shouted. A squirrel ran up the closest tree, and sat on a branch, looking at them. Then it jumped to another tree. “Daddy, let’s follow it. Come on.”

“Alexei, wait for us,” the woman said. She took the man by the arm, and they followed their son down the path.

“I don’t think he is going to visit you again, do you,” the Ghost said, “or anyone else for that matter.”

“The ungrateful…” Vladimir Vladimirovich started, but the cemetery faded away, and he was back in his room. The fire was still burning, and there was an empty vodka bottle on the side table on top of the report he had been reading. But the room was empty, there was no one there.

He sat down and stared at the fire, lost in his thoughts, until the fire died down. Just before he fell asleep in the chair, he muttered silently, “Humbug.”

*****

Part V - Easter Morning

When Vladimir Vladimirovich woke up the next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows into his room. “The Ghosts must have left the curtains open,” he thought. His back was a bit stiff from sleeping in the chair, but he stood up and stretched a bit, which helped. He looked around the room; the fire had burned to ashes, there was the empty vodka bottle on the side table on top of the report, but otherwise everything seemed normal. “Humbug,” he said out loud.

After a change of clothes, and a quick breakfast, he entered his office. His secretary Ivan Ivanovich was already there waiting for him, “Good morning Sir, and how was your Easter.”

“Interesting, and enlightening,” he replied, “Call the General, the Lawyer, and the Press secretary here.”

“Right away, Sir,” Ivan Ivanovich said.

“Last night I met…” Vladimir Vladimirovich began, but stopped himself. “Last night, I was thinking about these children.”

“Children, Sir?” Ivan Ivanovich asked.

“Not real children, of course, a metaphor,” Vladimir Vladimirovich continued, “something that is not yet grown up, not yet found its final form. The future, so to speak.”

“I understand,” Ivan Ivanovich said, though he really did not.

“They were called Ignorance, War, Freedom, and Hope, and they made me think.”

“Think about…” Ivan Ivanovich started confused, mainly just to show that he was listening.

Just then the door opened and the General, the Lawyer, and a third person, who had to be the Press secretary, entered the room.

“Good morning, Sir, and how was your Easter” they all said at the same time, as if competing for his attention.

“Humbug! We have work to do, no time for niceties,” Vladimir Vladimirovich replied. “As I was saying to Ivan Ivanovich here,” he said, paused, and then continued, “as I was saying, I have been thinking, and I have come up with a plan.”

“First of all, we need to accept the fact that the West is waging a War against us; they are the aggressors, the warmongers. We are defending our Motherland and are fighting for our survival. We need to fight this with all we have.” He looked at the General, “you understand, with all we have. It is the only way we can survive, save Mother Russia and live in peace.”

“Yes Sir, I understand, we will use all the weapons we have in our arsenal,” the General replied.

“The West’s War against us has created special circumstances, and the situation calls for extraordinary measures. The West wants to impose their so-called liberal democratic freedoms on us, to undermine the fabric of our society. They want to wreck our traditions, upend the natural order of life and make us weak. Make us Slaves to the West. The Russian people do not want these liberal freedoms, when men are not men and women are not women, and anyone can marry anyone. Russians will not be Slaves, we will be free of this decadent liberal filth.”

“We should get the Church involved,” the Press secretary suggested, “arrange another visit to an important monastery or a church, to show our support for traditional Russian values. In times like these, it is always good to embrace religious orthodoxy.”

“I agree, get it done,” Vladimir Vladimirovich ordered, and continued. “Make no mistake, there will be sacrifices, the economy will be worse, there will be casualties. But remember, rhetoric always overcomes reality. You understand,” he asked, but did not wait for them to answer. “We cannot block the Internet or information from seeping in, that is futile, instead we will make people ignore it. We will hammer down the message that nothing in the Western liberal media is true, it is just propaganda, and not worth listening to.”

Vladimir Vladimirovich paused, and let the message sink in, and then continued. “What is the truth? We will tell the people what the truth is. Not the Western liberal media, not the Internet, Us! Is that clear?”

“Crystal clear, Sir,” the Press secretary replied, and Vladimir Vladimirovich continued. “Everything is possible for us if the Russian people are willing to sacrifice for unity and for the common good. When people are not burdened with unimportant unnecessary “information” from Western propaganda, they are free to provide unblinking obedience and we can expect raw strength from them for the fight.”

Vladimir Vladimirovich looked at the Lawyer, “And you! Any demonstrations or opposition, you crack down, immediately and hard. Is that clear?” Again not waiting for a reply, he continued, “I have seen this before, in Dresden. The Germans did not deal with the demonstrations firmly and on time. They let the people demonstrate, thinking they could just let them blow off some steam, and then the people would go home. But they did not go home, the demonstrations just grew bigger. And by the time the Germans tried to do something, it was already too late.”

“Give the Devil a finger and he will take your hand,” the Lawyer said.

“Exactly!” Vladimir Vladimirovich exclaimed, “and you do remember what happened to Ceausescu?” No one replied, but he saw that they remembered. “First sign of dissent, nip it in the bud. We need to make sure there is no hope in resisting the Government. No hope. Make sure hope dies.”

“How about creating a new dissident movement,” the Lawyer proposed. The other two looked at him a bit nervously, but he continued, “A new opposition movement would draw out the last undesirables from the shadows, the ones who smile at you and say yes, but really hate you and stab you in the back when opportunity comes. Once they are out in the open we can crush them. To prove the point that hope is dead.”

“Good idea, and it has worked before,” Vladimir Vladimirovich replied, “and it would help with the mobilisation.”

The Press secretary finished writing notes, and then said, “So, the message will be;

-A defensive War against the West results in Peace for Russia.

-Decadent imported liberal Freedoms mean Slavery for Russians.

-Ignoring Western propaganda gives Strength to the people of Russia.

-And for traitors of the Motherland, Hope is dead.”

He paused and added,

“War is Peace
Freedom is Slavery
Ignorance is Strength
Hope is Dead”

“I like the sound of that,” Vladimir Vladimirovich agreed. “So, do you have any questions?”

“Not a question, Sir,” the General said, “but if I may say so; this is a very cunning plan, Sir.”

“Well, it will be even more cunning when you make it work,” Vladimir Vladimirovich replied, “get on with it, I want to see some results.”

They started for the door, and just as they were leaving the room, Vladimir Vladimirovich said, “and Happy Easter to you.”

They stopped and replied with a bit unsure “Happy Easter, Sir”, and left the room. Then Vladimir Vladimirovich said to himself smiling:

“This is, after all, a Happy Easter.” '

*****

And regardless of the War, have a Merry Christmas, and let’s hope for a better New Year 2025!

Prepare for War

Dec 12 2024 The BBC

Nato must switch to a wartime mindset, warns secretary general

Mark Rutte, the secretary general of Nato, warned that Nato members were not spending enough to prepare for the threat of a future conflict with Russia.

He also said that Moscow was "preparing for long-term confrontation with Ukraine and with us", and it is time to "shift to a wartime mindset".

Nato members have been spending more on defense in the last few years, but not all have reached the 2% of GDP as of yet, and Rutte said that "a lot more" would be needed in the near future.

"If we don't spend more together now to prevent war, we will pay a much, much, much higher price later to fight it."

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Si vis pacem, para bellum - If you want peace, prepare for war.

Russia is at war, and though the “special military operation” has obviously not gone according to plan, Russia is gaining a lot of experience and will eventually learn to wage the war better.

Also Russia’s economy is on a war footing, and in 2025 defence spending is set to be "a third of Russia's state budget”. In contrast, some Nato members have not reached the agreed 2% of GDP spending level as of yet.

When the current hostilities eventually end, some kind of agreement will be negotiated, most likely one that will leave all sides unsatisfied. That in turn will result in an unstable peace, which basically ensures that there will be a next war to settle the score later.

Russia has lost huge amounts of materiel in this war, not to mention the casualties, but once this war is over, it will rebuild its army. It will also use all the experience gained fighting Western weapons and armour, to equip the rebuilt army with better and battle tested equipment.

That rebuilt army with the new weapons will be the one Nato will have to prepare for, not the army that is currently fighting in Ukraine.

In five years from now, no Nato member, or anyone else for that matter, will want to face that rebuilt Russian army unprepared. There really is no other option, either we prepare as well as we can now, or we pay a much higher price later, and that price will not only be much higher, it will include blood as well.

This is not a new idea or related to just this conflict, even our ancestors knew this. The Romans had the adage Si vis pacem, para bellum, and way before that, the old guy from the bible, Noah, did not wait for the rain to start, he built the Arc before the rain.

Russia’s Budget

Sep 30 2024 The New York TImes

Russia to Boost Defense Budget as Ukraine War Drags On

The Kremlin originally planned to cut military spending in 2025, but as the war grinds on, now intends to increase it by 25 percent, to more than $145 billion. The spending has now reached Cold War levels.

Russia’s economy is definitely on a war footing:

The increase means that the Kremlin is allocating more than 32 percent of its state budget to defense, more than to pensions and other social expenditures, health care and education combined.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“We are reaching the point when cannons become more important than butter.” … “The main priority is the ongoing war in Ukraine and the restoration of arsenals and the country’s military potential.”

The key interest rate is 19%, which makes loans and mortgages extremely expensive. Inflation is around 8.5% and the unemployment rate has dropped to 2.4 percent, partly because Russia is trying to recruit more soldiers for the war. If you are trying to employ more workers, or just keep your existing ones, you will have to offer higher wages, which will, in the end, further increase inflation.

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Not exactly a recipe for a stable society.

Holding Putin et al. accountable

Jul 9 2024 Gordon Brown in The Guardian

Rage as Putin bombs a children’s hospital in Kyiv, but know there is a way to try him for his crimes

The lives of children are too easily forgotten. But the Council of Europe has a plan to hold the Kremlin to account

This week’s bombing of the main children’s hospital in the heart of Kyiv is the latest and most gruesome reminder of Vladimir Putin’s war crimes. They cannot go unpunished. Nato’s summit in Washington DC is the right moment not just to recommit to the defence of Ukraine, but also to deepen and hasten the inquiry of the international criminal court (ICC) into Russian atrocities.

From Kyiv on Mother’s Day

May 12th 2024 The Washington Post

by Olena Zelenska, the First Lady of Ukraine

Below is the link to the piece, but I will include the text here as well, the message is worth it.

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The mothers of Ukraine need you

Every Ukrainian mom today is a part of a great wall holding off Russian aggression against the world.

Six-year-old Renat and 10-year-old Varvara were living in Mariupol — the city wiped from the face of the Earth by Russian bombing — when they were sent to an orphanage in Russia. They were torn from their mother, who had been taken prisoner.

Desperate, Renat and Varvara’s grandmother knocked on every door, searched every inch of land to find her missing loved ones. While their mother was eventually brought back to Ukraine via a prisoner swap, it took nine months and the assistance of the Ukrainian authorities for the grandmother to bring back her grandchildren. She even crossed enemy lines to rescue them.

What did their mom feel during those months? What did the children feel, as the grandmother persevered to reunite the family?

This is the story of women of Ukraine right now. More than 19,000 of our children are being held captive in Russia. Their families are tormented by uncertainty.

Since the beginning of Russia’s brutal full-scale invasion, the mothers of Ukraine have — as caregivers, first responders, medics, soldiers and breadwinners — fought for the survival of their families and their country. They are part of a fight for the survival of the democratic world order.

It is a fitting story to tell on Mother’s Day, when there is an important message I am ready to scream out loud: We need the help of the whole world to set these children free. One Ukrainian mother may be powerless, but thousands and millions of us standing together can succeed.

Some mothers in Ukraine have turned their pain into action. When Natalya Makovetska’s son was killed on the front line, she joined the army herself. There are more than 60,000 women in the Ukrainian army, even though enlisting is voluntary for women.

Other mothers are widening their families to protect children who have lost their own parents and homes. Tetiana Yurychko has fostered 10 children, including 3-year-old Bohdan. It is not easy being a foster mother during a time of war. It’s not easy to take so many children to the bomb shelter every time the air-raid sirens wail.

But as Tetiana told me, “Every child should have a family.” That’s why the Olena Zelenska Foundation is building homes for such large foster families. So that all children can have a home, a family, a mother.

Another story that comes to mind as I write to you from Kyiv is about another side of this war for mothers but ends less happily.

Two months ago, the bodies of two neighbors — friends — were recovered by rescuers in the aftermath of a Russian strike on their home in the strategic port city of Odessa.

The first responders found Anna Gaidarzhy and Tetiana Kravets cradling their newborns in their arms. They had tried to use their bodies to shield 7-month-old Liza and 4-month-old Timofey from the deadly blow of a Russian missile. Their older, surviving children are orphaned now.

One of the most difficult challenges for parents in Ukraine today is the feeling of being powerless. Of not being able to protect your children physically or emotionally.

Now in Ukraine, every mother must steel themselves against the question, “Mom, are we going to die today?” when the air-raid alarm sounds in their city, sometimes multiple times a day. What can a mom do when she can do nothing? When she scared herself? How can you talk to your child about the threat so that they grow up without trauma?

We are trying to fight this growing mental health crisis. The program “Are you okay?” was created to enable a future where, hopefully, both parents and children can one day honestly answer that question with: “I'm okay.” It's aimed at preventing children from remaining “children of war” for the rest of their lives.

Just like most moms in Ukraine, I have an air-raid app on my phone that makes haunting sounds when the alarm goes off. And like all moms, I am worried that only a part of Ukraine’s children go to schools because of the attacks, and even those children at school frequently must study in underground bomb shelters.

Talking about myself is the hardest thing to do. But my only recipe for being a mom during the war is to be sincere and an example of love and care. It is to teach my children the need to care for others because that is why we are all holding on to through the war. It is about hoping that the war will remain just an episode in the lives of our children. That they will enjoy normal lives after it to erase that trauma.

And so my request today is that you remember these stories. Share them. Demand our children be returned to Ukraine.

Every Ukrainian mom today is a part of a great wall holding off Russian aggression against the world.

There are missile fragments and bullets in their hearts, and there are children behind their backs — and not just their own children.

That’s because, in a civilized world, there are no other people’s children.

Aid for Ukraine

Apr 21st 2024 The BBC

The House of Representatives finally approved new US military aid for Ukraine.

Ukraine Russia war: US House passes crucial aid deal worth $61bn

The aid stalled in the House for six months, thanks to the Russia-friendly Republicans, and though the bill passed with overwhelming support, 112 Republicans still voted against it. That is a quarter of the House.

They voted against the bill, in spite of the fact that roughly two thirds of this aid to Ukraine, will actually go to US companies; out of the $60.7 billion $38,8 billion will be spent in the US. Maybe they should have named it “Aid to the US and Ukraine”, it might have passed sooner.

This bill should have been passed six months ago. Delaying this bill was just about petty politics by spineless politicians, who will all end up on the wrong side of history.

Sweden joins Nato

March 7th 2024

After months of delays, thanks to Türkiye and Hungary, on March 7th, 2024, Sweden became the 32nd member of NATO.

Sweden had been neutral since the Napoleonic wars, but the Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022, prompted it to apply to join NATO. (Finland applied at the same time, and joined the alliance in April 2023.)

Sweden had stayed neutral for over 200 years, through both World Wars, but decided to join NATO now. That should say something about the gravity of the situation in Europe.

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One of Putin’s stated reasons for invading Ukraine, was preventing the enlargement of NATO. Well, since both Finland and Sweden joined the alliance, NATO not only got two new members, but the Baltic Sea, in all practical terms, became a NATO sea.

St. Petersburg is squeezed at the eastern end of the relatively narrow Gulf of Finland, and the exclave of Kaliningrad (which used to be called Königsberg until 1946) is sandwiched between Lithuania and Poland, which are both NATO members, like all the rest of the countries bordering the Baltic Sea.

Strategically this is not the best result for Russia, and probably not the one Putin had in mind.

"Peace for our time"

Sep 17 2023

About 85 years ago, on Sep 30th 1938, Neville Chamberlain came back to the UK from negotiations with Hitler on the Czechoslovakian problem, and uttered the famous words: “Peace for our time”.

As we all know, it did not quite turn out that way. Appeasement did not work, it only showed that brute force works.

The war in Ukraine has now been going on for 18 months, and it looks like the war will not end anytime soon. Some people in the West are urging Ukraine to negotiate with Russia, and are talking about ceding territory in exchange for peace.

Appeasement did not work in 1938, what is so different this time? Maybe people do not know history, or are in denial, or are just thinking about short term political gains and the next election. I do not know.

What I do know, is that this is not the time to negotiate a half-hearted peace deal. Russia will not stop at Ukraine if it can hold on to some gains achieved by brute force. The question, after a compromise peace deal, will not be how to make that agreement work; it will be “who’s next”.

Russia can not win this war. Europe and the world can not afford that. We should give Ukraine what it needs to fight and win this war, and we should give it now.

Politicians talking about negotiations with Russia would be wise to remember that when facing brute force, appeasement does not work.

And, if they do not want to be remembered for another “peace for our time” declaration, for being ‘the Neville Chamberlain of the 21st century’, they should get their act together, and make sure that Ukraine has the weapons to win this war, and the security guarantees to live in peace afterwards.

The Observer view on the Biden-Zelenskiy talks: now is no time to reduce support for Ukraine

Secretary Antony J. Blinken Remarks to the Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies (SAIS)

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Sep 18 2023 David Miliband in The Guardian

Ukraine needs help on all fronts: military, civilian and humanitarian. Our will cannot waver

The Man in the Trenches

Sep 3 2023 (updated Sep 4 2023)

The Ukrainian counteroffensive has now been going on for about three months. Progress has been slower “than expected”, through the vast minefields and fortifications Russia has built over the last year or so.

Regarding “expectations” in a war, it would always be good to remember von Moltke’s maxim: “No battle plan survives contact with the enemy”.

This means that you should not expect any plan to work on the ground as you planned it on paper, and that you should expect, and be able to, adapt the plan as the situation develops.

There has been criticism of the slow progress in the West, and some have talked about peace negotiations to end the war.

But criticising from afar, and fighting in the trenches are not the same thing. Before giving an “expert opinion”, it would be good to remember what Theodore Roosevelt said in a speech over a hundred years ago.

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat. Shame on the man of cultivated taste who lets refinement to develop in to fastidiousness that unfits him for doing the rough work of a work day world.

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Sep 4 2023 The Washington Post

Ukraine may have a better chance to win in 2024, a retired U.S. general says

The U.S. general in question is the retired U.S. Army Brig. Gen. Mark Arnold, who according to the article,

… has spent extensive time near the front lines advising the Ukrainian military (at his own expense).

Meaning he has been “in the arena”; i.e. on the ground, and has seen the reality, and…

He has come away impressed by the professionalism and élan of the Ukrainian army — while also cognizant of the limitations of the training and equipment they have been provided by the West.

Fight to win now

Sep 3 2023 The Guardian

Putin is waging a forever war. The west can’t pull the plug on Ukraine now

This piece in The Guardian starts with:

They still don’t get it. Even after 18 months of horror in Ukraine, too many prominent politicians in the US and Europe appear unable or unwilling to grasp the existential threat that Vladimir Putin’s Russia poses to all.

They continue to assume this war, like other conflicts, will eventually end in negotiations. Yet the Kremlin demands nothing less than Kyiv’s total capitulation – and that is not going to happen.

The simple fact is, that Ukraine has to win this war. If Russia will be able to claim any kind of real win, it will reward Russia’s aggression and prove that brute force works. And since it worked now, Russia will threaten Ukraine and other countries bordering Russia in the future.

Remember, this war started in 2014, with the occupation of Donbas and Crimea; Feb 24th, 2022, was just the start of the next phase.

The West has to really fight to win this war, not look for negotiated settlements, which will just embolden Russia to continue to rebuild “the empire”.

In another piece in The Guardian the Ukrainian Brig Gen Oleksandr Tarnavskiy put it well:

“If we stop advancing, the enemy will gather new forces and strengthen. We will reach the 1991 borders of Ukraine ... We don’t want to see our kids and even our grandkids fighting against Russians, and who is there to stop them? Only us.”

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The politicians in the west seem to be focused on poll numbers or the next election; and they don’t seem to see the big picture. Maybe it is denial, or inability to really see the big picture, or focus on domestic issues…

I don’t know, I just hope that they wake up and, so to speak, smell the cordite, and preferably sooner than later.

And in any case, they should definitely read this piece by Brookings Institution analyst Constanze Stelzenmüller:

The return of the enemy: Putin’s war on Ukraine and a cognitive blockage in Western security policy

Pacifism?

Aug 25 2023

War is bad, and all lives matter. That is true, but the reality is way more complicated than that.

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First; “pacifism” from the Left.

Lars von Trier wrote on Instagram:

“Russian lives matter also!”, and he addressed his post to “Mr Zelensky and Mr Putin, and not least Mrs Frederiksen (who yesterday, like someone head over heels in love, posed in the cockpit of one of the scariest killing machines of our time, grinning from ear to ear).”

Now he defends his remarks writing that he

“support[s] Ukraine with every beat of my heart! I was just stating the obvious: that all lives in this world matter! A forgotten phrase it seems, from a time when pacifism was a virtue.”

Stating the obvious? If you are ‘stating the obvious’ you do not add disparaging lines about the Danish PM. Or fail to mention that Ukraine did not choose to be in this war.

‘Stating the obvious’ in this case would be; that no Russian lives would be lost, if Russia had not invaded Ukraine in the first place.

Then trying to gain the moral high ground he added the line about “a time when pacifism was a virtue.” Well, when there is a war in Ukraine, it is easy to be a pacifist, when you are living a comfortable life in Denmark.

Lars von Trier defends ‘Russian lives matter also’ comment

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Then; “pacifism” from the Right.

The Curious Conservative Case Against Defending Ukraine

This is by Bret Stephens from The New York Times, May 2, 2023, and starts with:

”One of the stranger features of the politics of the war in Ukraine is that the most vocal opposition to it tends to come from the hard right. In some ways, that right sounds like the hard left it used to oppose so fiercely.”

That kind of says it all, though the reasons the Right promotes “pacifism” are different from the traditional instinctive pacifism of the Left.

No point in repeating the arguments here, when you can read the original. I’ll just add a quote from the piece.

Certain conservative readers of this column will no doubt feel insulted and claim that it should be possible to oppose U.S. support for the war on strategic grounds without being labeled pro-Putin.

It’s worth reminding them what George Orwell wrote in 1942 about the position of Western pacifists vis-à-vis Nazi Germany: “Pacifism is objectively pro-fascist. This is elementary common sense. If you hamper the war effort of one side, you automatically help that of the other.”

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Expanding on what George Orwell wrote, I would also like to remind both the Left and the Right, that from the Russian point of view, at this moment in the Ukraine war, all pacifists, and “pacifists”, in the West are, what they used to be called during the Cold War Soviet times;

Useful Idiots.

Counting the dead

May 22 2023 The Guardian (Updated Aug 18 2023)

The uncounted: how millions died unseen in America’s post-9/11 wars

This article is based on a report “How Death Outlives War: The Reverberating Impact of the Post-9/11 Wars on Human Health”, by Stephanie Savell, and published by the Costs of War project at Brown University’s Watson Institute.

It deals mainly with post-9/11 wars, and with Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iraq, Syria, Yemen, Libya and Somalia, but I trust that the facts would be true with all wars, and most recently with Ukraine.

So how do you count the dead from wars?

Combat deaths are direct deaths resulting from fighting, and are generally understood to mean soldiers, or other people directly involved in fighting.

Casualties is also used, and that can include both the dead and the wounded. From a military manpower point of view, casualty is someone who can not participate in the fighting, at least in the short term. From a human point of view, dead is dead and wounded is wounded, regardless of what you call it. Casualty just does not sound as bad as dead or wounded, and we humans do use a lot of euphemisms when talking about death.

Collateral damage usually means dead civilians, but like other euphemisms, sounds better. These are people who were not the real targets, but died in the crossfire, or were in the wrong place at the wrong time, or because the laws of war were not followed, i.e. someone did not care if civilians died in the fighting.

Indirect deaths, a term used in the article, are “caused not by outright violence but by consequent, ensuing economic collapse, loss of livelihoods, food insecurity, destruction of public health services, environmental contamination and continuing trauma, including mental health problems, domestic and sexual abuse and displacement.”

The catch here is that indirect deaths are not usually counted, they are ‘the uncounted’, and do not show up in reports and statistics. And “a reasonable, conservative average estimate for any contemporary conflict is a ratio of four indirect deaths for every one direct death.”

And since indirect deaths result from side effects, or after effects, of war, economic collapse, displacement, loss of health services and the like, they continue to pile up long after the conflict is over.

The dead are gone, but we can still do something for those suffering the consequences of the wars.

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Update: Aug 18 2023 The New York Times

Troop Deaths and Injuries in Ukraine War Near 500,000, U.S. Officials Say

This is obviously an estimate, but as of August 2023 the war in Ukraine has resulted in 500,000 military casualties, i.e. killed or wounded.

The Russian military casualties are estimated to be 120,000 killed and 180,000 wounded. The Ukrainian figures are estimated to be 70,000 killed and 120,000 wounded. (Civilian deaths are not included in these numbers.)

So, four indirect deaths to one direct death, in Ukraine that would mean 280,000 indirect deaths from this conflict, and the war is far from over.

Since the war is not fought on Russian territory, for Russia the calculation is different, but even the 120,000 killed and 180,000 wounded (so far) will have an effect.

The Soviet war in Afghanistan resulted, on the Soviet side that is, to about 20,000 killed and 50,000 wounded, and that war lasted nearly ten years. And as you can read in Wikipedia, “… the Soviet-Afghan War… has also been cited by scholars as a significant factor that contributed to the dissolution of the Soviet Union”.

This war in Ukraine has only been going on for a year and a half, and has already caused six times more killed.

Money vs. Lives

Jul 12 2023 The New York Times

Here’s What the Experts Say About Managing Putin by Nicholas Kristof

Some people, on the other side of the Atlantic, think that giving weapons to Ukraine, and financing Ukraine’s struggle against Russian invasion, is expensive and is a sacrifice from from those giving the aid.

It looks different from the countries bordering Russia, especially from those who were forced to participate in the failed Soviet experiment. The West is giving money, and somewhat reluctantly, military hardware, which both are replaceable. Ukraine is the one making the real sacrifice, they are losing lives, which are not replaceable.

And by fighting Russia, they are not only fighting for Ukraine, they are fighting for Europe and the world. If Russia gains anything from this war, the West has lost, and Russian aggression has been validated.

We in the West have been naive, thinking that Russia has changed. It is true that a lot in Russia has changed, but the country is still run by an ex-KGB officer, all dissent is crushed, and people are thrown in jail for criticising the war. We did not wake up with Chechnya or Georgia or Donbas and Crimea, and now we are faced with the nightmare of war in Europe.

If we do not wake up now, then what will it take?

The Baltic countries are small, but they are in NATO, and they have first hand experience of Russia. Maybe it is time to listen, and really hear, what they have to say about Russia, and what it will take to defeat Russia.

Kakhovka dam

Jun 11 2023 The Guardian

What lies behind Russia’s acts of extreme violence? Freudian analysis offers an answer

If you can’t create, destroy.

Beneath the veneer of Russian military “tactics”, you see the stupid leer of destruction for the sake of it. The Kremlin can’t create, so all that is left is to destroy. Not in some pseudo-glorious self-immolation, the people behind atrocities are petty cowards, but more like a loser smearing their faeces over life. In Russia’s wars the very senselessness seems to be the sense.