Trump has a point

One of Donald Trump’s stock boasts is a skeleton phrase allowing for a limitless number of insertions: “If I had been president […] wouldn’t have happened”.

Fill in the blank with anything you wish had been avoided, from the Punic Wars to Putin’s invasion of the Ukraine via both World Wars, and you’ll capture the general thrust of Trump’s braggadocio. But one of those possible insertions is less preposterous than others.

It’s indeed likely that, had the US been led by Trump rather than Biden in February, 2022, Putin would have thought twice before pushing the button for a full-scale assault. I wouldn’t have bet my house on such reticence, but I’d probably have taken a smaller bet, say a tenner.

The reason I’d have been ready to take a flier isn’t Trump’s special relationship with Putin, although I’m certain it exists. I don’t know whether it’s criminal, shameful or merely ill-advised. Since neither man strikes me as a friend-making type, such a relationship has to be based on either grudging respect or unknown mutual interests, but one can see it’s there.

However, Putin wouldn’t have been deterred by any personal links with Trump. Either the Russian chieftain or his advisers would have known that a US president doesn’t have dictatorial powers. Trump might have been willing to toe Putin’s line, but both his cabinet and Congress could have had different ideas.

Contrary to his self-serving bluster, neither would Trump have threatened to nuke Moscow in response. Such a threat would have been too grossly irresponsible even for him, and he has set the bar of irresponsible claims rather high. No American president would go nuclear in response to any aggression against a non-NATO country, and I don’t even put much faith in Article 5 of the NATO Charter either.

What could have stopped Putin’s juggernaut in its tracks would have been a general projection of American, and hence NATO, strength. In such matters, appearance is the same as reality and, even if the US hadn’t been stronger under Trump, it would have looked stronger.

By contrast, America looked cowardly and impotent under Biden, an impression that was instantly created or perhaps reinforced on 31 August, 2021. That was the day Americans officially lost the war with Taliban.

Actually, as both the British and the Russians could testify, there was nothing unusual about a mighty global power finding itself lost in Afghanistan. The country’s terrain and, above all, the indomitable fighting spirit of its people have been known to cancel out any advantages Westerners might have in weaponry and numerical strength.

(I’d like to chat about this with Victor David Hanson, the author of the brilliant book Carnage and Culture. Dr Hanson argues that the West has always won confrontations with the East, and he explains why. What about Afghanistan then? I’m sure he has a good answer, but I’d love to know what it is.)

However, what matters in any lost war isn’t just the fact but also the manner of losing – just as there is a telling difference between retreating and running away. And there the Soviets had a distinct edge over the Americans.

Their 1989 retreat after a decade-long war with Afghanistan was – or at least looked – orderly and one could even say dignified. They marched out leaving nothing behind but some 15,000 of their own casualties and over a million Afghan ones. The retreating troops brought all their weapons with them, and every vehicle that could move out did so.

By contrast, Americans didn’t just leave Afghanistan. They ran away, leaving behind some $7 billion worth of military equipment (this estimate by the Defence Department strikes me as too modest) and, more important, thousands of their Afghan friends. That was a chaotic flight, not orderly retreat.

Now, Putin’s instincts were formed in the back streets, where, by his own admission, he was a “common thug”. He ran with the gangs, I ran away from them, but there is nothing about their mentality that would surprise either me or anyone familiar with wolf packs. Wolves flee from those who are stronger than they are and pounce on those who are weaker.

What many Western commentators don’t understand about Putin is that mentally he has never left those lupine street gangs. He will backtrack, tail between his legs, from a show of strength and pounce like a scowling wolf on any sign of weakness.

Biden’s shameful flight from Afghanistan told Putin all he needed to know. The US president was weak, cowardly, probably senile. If he meekly accepted the disgrace of his own troops shedding their weapons as they fled, surely he wouldn’t go to war over a little foray into a country he knew nothing about. The Ukrainians may well live in the UK, as far as Biden is concerned in his present state of health.

While it’s conceivable that the Punic Wars would have happened even had Trump been US president in the Third Century BC, I am fairly certain he would have lost the Afghan War with dignity even had he been unable to win it. That would have planted doubt into Putin’s head, the head of the petty thug he has remained for life.

He would have seen a sign of temporary weakness but not one of vacillation and cowardice. There would have been nothing for him to pounce on.

As it was, pounce he did, but the Russian chieftain miscalculated. His generals had assured him they would overrun the Ukraine by blitzkrieg taking days, weeks at the outside. Under such circumstances, the US could only have saved the situation by responding with speed and resolve, qualities the present administration conspicuously lacked.

Biden actually issued a veiled invitation for Putin to invade. Days before the attack, he practically said the US would overlook a limited foray, which not only encouraged Putin to go ahead, but also gave him a useful PR strategy. The invasion of the Ukraine wasn’t a war, explained Kremlin propagandists on cue. It was only a ‘special military operation’, and prison awaited any Russian daring to use the dread W-word.

The Ukrainians fought the aggression with skill and courage, as people usually do when their national survival is at stake. The limited foray turned into a war of attrition, with Russian casualties in the Ukraine topping those in Afghanistan by an order of magnitude.

The US and NATO had no option but to support the Ukraine with equipment, ordnance, intelligence and funding. But they treated the Ukraine the way Spaniards treat bulls in the ring: the animals are allowed to fight, but they aren’t allowed to win.

Supplies have kept the Ukrainians in the fight, but one of their arms has always been tied behind their back. Meanwhile, the West in general and the US in particular are visibly losing interest.

I fear for the Ukraine whoever wins the US elections in November. Harris would probably continue Biden’s policy of diminishing interest and attenuating supplies, which would soon deliver victory to Putin’s larger battalions.

And should Trump win, he’d doubtless try to act on his boastful promise to end the war in days. The only possible way of doing so would be for him to twist the Ukrainians’ arm into territorial concessions on pain of a summary discontinuation of American supplies.

Putin would then declare victory and start leisurely preparations for the next round. I can even imagine him promising his friend Donald not to attack during his tenure. Waiting four years would anyway be desirable for Russia to lick her wounds, regroup and rearm.

And après Trump le déluge, the kind that will engulf the Ukraine in the terror of another barbarian onslaught. A harrowing prospect, that, and one I hope we’ll never see. But, as we know, hope is cheap.