Europe

Landing in Moscow on February 7, French President Emmanuel Macron had a twinkle in his eye and a spring in his step. There he was, taking it upon himself to be the first European head-of-state to meet Russian President Vladimir Putin since over 130,000 Russian troops massed on Ukraine’s border from three sides. Macron's mission was to explore whether a de-escalation with Russia was possible. “I believe that our continent is today in an eminently critical situation, which requires us all to be extremely responsible,” he told reporters before his five-hour session with Putin began. The other option, what could be the largest land war in Europe since World War II, would be far worse.

As the political stage that Boris Johnson stands on continues to shrink and become more unstable, I am reminded of how much his career resembles that of another larger-than-life celebrity. Last month, Arnold Schwarzenegger rolled his large black Yukon SUV over a red Prius in Los Angeles. The former California governor was uninjured, but the other driver suffered serious injuries and was hospitalized. Law enforcement sources told TMZ that "they believe the accident was Arnold's fault." They think Arnold made an illegal left turn at an intersection. There’s no word if he will be charged. The incident got me to thinking how both Boris and Arnold have a history of ignoring rules and creating mayhem around them.

While American and Russian officials are yelling at one another in the UN Security Council chamber, another international actor has found itself at the little kids’ table: Europe. It's possible the phrase “little kids’ table” is too harsh. To be fair, French president Emmanuel Macron is at least in direct communication with Russian president Vladimir Putin and urging his European colleagues to formulate a joint European negotiating position on the Ukraine question. France is also a chief mediator of the Normandy Format, which seeks to resolve the eight-year conflict in Ukraine’s Donbas region. But Macron is largely an outlier on his own continent.

As the Ukraine crisis continues to develop, it has become impossible to avoid mentioning Georgia and its relations with the West. This is not only due to the similarities in the two countries' geopolitical circumstances, but also because Georgia is explicitly mentioned with Ukraine in President Putin's demands to the West to forego any future NATO expansion. Like Ukraine, for years, Georgia has sat in the uncomfortable position of being pro-Western without enjoying the protections afforded by membership in both NATO and the European Union. Yet a country that was once a staunch Western ally has become mired in accusations of authoritarianism, behind-the-scenes governance, and covert pro-Russian sentiment. Georgia and Ukraine have occupied a unique position in the post-Soviet space.

With shocking speed, talk in Washington has shifted from disunity among the Democrats and Joe Biden’s unhappy first year to possible war in Europe. The Putin government is reinforcing units poised to invade Ukraine. Washington is sending weapons to Kyiv. The United States and United Kingdom have begun to evacuate embassy personnel. President Biden is considering sending additional troops to garrison NATO member states. But for what? Why is the United States so thoroughly entangled in a conflict not its own? Not for reasons of history Throughout most of America’s relatively short existence, Ukraine was part of either the Russian Empire or Soviet Union.

Lost in the endless debate about whether Russia will invade Ukraine is the real reason that Moscow — armed with nuclear weapons and one of the most advanced militaries on the planet — feels so threatened by its neighbors, the NATO alliance, and ultimately the United States. While the expansion of NATO in the 1990s plays a big role, it is Russia’s everlasting internal debate about its place in the world that is the real source of tension. It's a historical black hole no one wants to get sucked into, but unless resolved it has the potential to be a source of armed conflict the likes of which Europe has not witnessed since World War II. Geography and history are both a blessing and a curse for Russia.

Nearly two-thirds of French citizens say they fear that Muslim immigrants threaten white Christians with “extinction.” That bodes well for Éric Zemmour, France’s ubiquitous right-wing polemicist, candidate for its presidency — and prominent popularizer of the concept of le grand remplacement, the conspiracy theory that a cabal of Jews and globalist elites are conniving to “replace” Europe’s native population with Africans and Arabs. This paranoid thesis has inspired white supremacists across the world, and is an increasingly popular import on the American right. The man who coined le grand remplacement is the seventy-five-year-old novelist and travel writer Renaud Camus — no relation to Albert, but a kind of philosopher nevertheless.

President Biden said this week that a “minor incursion” of Russian troops into Ukrainian territory would not bring about the severe economic sanctions the White House threatened in response to a “significant invasion.” His counterpart in the Kremlin can probably hardly believe his luck. Effectively, Vladimir Putin has been given carte blanche by the West to launch military operations against Ukraine. Of course, the fact that there is no definition of what constitutes a “minor incursion” gifts the White House a preemptive get-out clause from having to truly confront Moscow.

Remember how Washington’s foreign policy establishment and their media echo chamber bashed the “isolationist” President Donald Trump for abusing, humiliating and making life miserable for our close European allies, in the process obliterating the “liberal international order”? Remember how some of the Europeans responded? Germany’s Angela Merkel declared “a new chapter” in US-European relations, saying that Europe “really must take our fate into our own hands.” France’s Emanuel Macron stated that Europeans need to stop “being naïve,” and assert their strategic independence from the US. What happened? Nothing. Here we are, three decades after the end of the Cold War, and it is déjà vu all over again between Washington and Moscow.

President Joe Biden spoke with Russian President Vladimir Putin today via video conference for just over two hours, the second time in six months that the two leaders have engaged in a face-to-face conversation. For Biden, the message he sought to deliver was strict and to the point: if you, Mr. Putin, go ahead and order a second invasion of Ukraine in nearly eight years, you can expect a raft of economic penalties that will negatively effect everything from Russia’s access to the SWIFT payment system to the ability of Russian banks to convert rubles into dollars. For the security-minded Putin, the meeting was an opportunity to press Biden on his principal demand: a written legal guarantee from Washington and the rest of NATO that Ukraine will not be invited into the alliance.

It has been a mystery that would have baffled Perry Mason or Ellery Queen. Since Meghan Markle and Prince Harry informed a shocked Oprah Winfrey in their bombshell interview that "there were concerns and conversations" about "how dark" the skin color of their first child-to-be was likely to be, the couple have slowly dripped information into the public domain. It's been made clear that it was a "senior royal" who expressed the opinion, albeit neither the Queen nor the Duke of Edinburgh. Although given the latter’s public remarks on race and nationality, it might have been easiest if the soon-to-be-late Prince Philip had simply claimed responsibility. Now, the "senior royal" has finally been fingered, and the alleged guilty party is Prince Charles.

Americans are rarely accused of underestimating themselves, but might they in fact be a greater people than they think? That thought has regularly occurred to me over the past three years while I was researching and writing my new biography of their last king, George III, and especially when I read Richard Brookhiser’s insightful comment in his recent book Give Me Liberty, where he points out that Britain’s thirteen American colonies in the 1760s and early 1770s were among “the freest societies in the world.

Russian President Vladimir Putin is once again making the West nervous. And unlike his previous display of military might near the border with Ukraine last spring, Washington is concerned enough that it's sent CIA director (and former US ambassador to Russia) William Burns to Moscow for talks earlier this month. If Burns’s trip was meant to scare the Kremlin into halting additional military formations near the Russia-Ukraine border, then the confab didn’t work as planned. The Ukrainian government estimates that up to 100,000 Russian forces are now camped out in the area. American and European officials are sharing information with one another about various scenarios the Russians could be contemplating, the most dramatic being a second invasion of Ukraine in seven years.

Belarus, the former Soviet satellite state, isn’t exactly a global heavyweight. Alexander Lukashenko, the country’s authoritarian president, is an international pariah who is better at concocting conspiracy theories than he is at running a country. At $60 billion, the Belarusian economy is about the size of Rhode Island’s. Other than petroleum, cheese and dump trucks, Belarus doesn’t offer much in the way of exports. A once promising information technology sector is now gutted, as Lukashenko’s crackdown on dissent forces highly educated talent to flee the country for the Baltics. Lukashenko, however, is smarter than he looks.

Ah, the French. Is there any other people Americans so love to antagonize? Recall that after France (rightly) decided to abstain from the Iraq war in 2003, we didn't just express our discontent; we introduced the term "cheese-eating surrender monkeys" into the Kissingerian lexicon. We then canceled French fries, which are Belgian. Call it a sibling rivalry between children of the Enlightenment; call it a clash between social democracy and rugged individualism. Whatever you call it, just don't go canceling a submarine agreement at the last minute for the love of God. That's what Joe Biden did last month when Australia suddenly nixed a plan to purchase subs from the French in favor of American and British vessels. And stop the presses! A conspiracy of the Anglophones was afoot!

If one was to look up the dictionary definition of "brass neck," it should come with a picture of the Grand Old Duke of York, grinning inanely and posing in his regimental finery. Obstinacy has been a steady feature of his life, but one only brought into full public view since his entanglement with Jeffrey Epstein. Prince Andrew seems incapable of listening to anyone who is neither extremely wealthy nor a member of the British royal family — and judging by his recent antics, both of those sectors of society are given short shrift, too.