The United States has supported Ukraine with copious donations of weapons, troop-trainers, and logistical and technical advisers left to work the interoperable targeting equipment we "share" with that country. Between 2014 and 2022, NATO drilled at least 10,000 Ukrainian troops per year in advanced methods of warfare. In the war itself, weapons supplies have climbed steadily from Stinger and Javelin missiles to Abrams tanks (whose greenhouse-gas environmental footprint is 0.6 miles per gallon of gas, or 300 gallons every eight hours of use), to cluster bombs, and most recently the promise of F-16s.
All this has put fresh wind in the sails of the weapons manufacturers of the American military-industrial-congressional complex. In May 2022, the CEO of Lockheed Martin thanked President Biden personally for his kindness. F-16s, after all, are big money-makers. As for the additional fuel that ordinary Ukrainians require, it is now being sequestered underground by Ukrainian commodities traders at enormous environmental risk.
Wars and their escalation the mass destruction of human life that is almost invariably accompanied by destruction of the natural world happen because preparations for war bring leaders ever closer to the brink. So close, in fact, that it feels natural to go on. That was certainly the case with Russia, Ukraine, and NATO, and the escalation that followed. Examples of such escalation are indeed the rule, not the exception in time of war.
Think of the invention, testing, and strategic planning that led to the dropping of the first nuclear bomb on Hiroshima on August 6, 1945. In Jon Else's extraordinary documentary The Day After Trinity, the physicist Freeman Dyson offered a sober analysis of the momentum driving the decision to use the bomb:
"Why did the bomb get dropped on people at Hiroshima? I would say: it's almost inevitable that it would have happened simply because all the bureaucratic apparatus existed by that time to do it. The air force was ready and waiting. There had been prepared big airfields in the island of Tinian in the Pacific from which you could operate. The whole machinery was ready."
In the same sense, all the apparatus was in place for the war in Ukraine. Joe Biden, a conventional cold warrior, has always had a temperament rather like that of President Harry Truman. The Biden of 2023, like the Truman of 1945, comes across as impulsive, not deliberate. He likes to pop off, thinks he is appreciated for taking risks, and fancies himself particularly good under pressure. This state of mind partly accounts for his decision to label Vladimir Putin a "war criminal": never mind that such a description would apply with equal truth to George W. Bush and Dick Cheney for launching the invasion of Iraq in 2003 a war that Biden, as chair of the Senate foreign relations committee, supported unreservedly. His insistence that "this man [Putin] cannot remain in power for god's sake" and his belief (as of mid-July 2023) that "Putin has already lost the war" exhibit the same pattern of effusive moralism accompanied by a denial of inconvenient facts.
A different perspective was offered by Anatol Lieven at the Responsible Statecraft website:
"We are repeatedly told that the war in Ukraine is a war to defend democracy and help secure it across the world. Our American, French and British ancestors (and even the Russians, from March to October 1917) were also told the same about the Allied side in the First World War. It did not quite work out that way, and nothing guarantees that it will happen that way in Ukraine."
In the case of Ukraine, such false hopes have been pushed far more freely by the media than by the military. War is a drug, and they have chosen to be the dealers.
The Media Airbrush
War propaganda can be delivered in picturesque as well as popular ways. A prime example of the former approach was Roger Cohen's August 6th front-page New York Times story, "Putin's Forever War," based on a recent visit. ("I spent a month in Russia.") The apologetic intent here is underscored in the headline, which picks up an epithet once applied to the disastrous American wars in Afghanistan and Iraq and slyly transfers it to Russia. The coverage is all in the same key, over six full pages of the paper Times, bulked out with color photographs of cheerleaders, churches, dank stairways, military processions, statues, tombs, and models on a fashion shoot.
From the start, Cohen adopts the voice of a prophetic observer of a new war, even as he makes it sound a good deal like the old war with the Soviet Union. "Along the way," he writes,
"I encountered fear and fervid bellicosity, as well as stubborn patience to see out a long war. I found that Homo sovieticus , far from dying out, has lived on in modified form, along with habits of subservience. So with the aid of relentless propaganda on state television, the old Putin playbook money, mythmaking and menace of murder has just about held."
The name Putin appears with great regularity as the article proceeds, doing extra duty for the historical analysis and exposition that are mostly absent.
"I first visited Moscow," writes Cohen, "four decades ago, when it was a city devoid of primary colors eking out existence in the penury of Communism." But Moscow has changed and the reason is Putin: "He opened Russia, only to slam it shut to the West; he also modernized it, while leaving the thread to Russia's past unbroken." So here, as in many Western accounts, the problem turns out to be not just Putin but the fact that he embodies a backward, naturally vengeful, country and its irretrievable past. The people of Russia are lost and a few courageous dissidents excepted they are given over to primitivism, hopeless nostalgia, and of course aggression. Putin is their epitome.
He "governs from the shadows" no point in skipping the vampire trope "unlike Stalin, whose portrait was everywhere. There is no cult of the leader of the kind Fascist systems favored. Yet mystery has its own magnetism. The reach of Mr. Putin's power touches all." There is, in other words, a cult of personality without either the personality or the display that belong to such a cult: "Putinism is a postmodern compilation of contradictions. It combines mawkish Soviet nostalgia with Mafia capitalism, devotion to the Orthodox Church with the spread of broken families." It did not take a month in Russia to write those sentences. A day at the New York Times would have sufficed.
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