Anyone who still believes one person can’t make a difference isn’t paying attention. When Mad Vlad Putine—Russia’s answer to the Pillsbury Doughboy—unleashed his dogs of war on Ukraine last week, he pushed “repeat” on a story as old as human civilization (sic). Thirst for power, glory, status, treasure, immortality, whatever, once again drives one man to throw the whole theory of evolution into question.
Hurt feelings, deflated ego, crumbling empires and self-delusion are at the core of the travesty unspooling in the former Soviet state. Ironically, those hurt feelings, deflated egos and crumbling empire have been traced back to the last time the then Soviet Union—and Warsaw Pact nations—decided to invade a neighbour, in that case the 1968 invasion of Czechoslovakia. Historians have written the catalyst for the invasion, the Prague Spring reforms of First Secretary Alexander Dubček, trace eventually to the breakup of the Soviet Union two decades later.
But who pays any attention to history?
The U.S. and other Western democracies reacted to that invasion with a shrug of their shoulders. The Soviets were acting within their own “sphere of influence” and no Western country was interested in sparking another world war by taking any action against it. Comrade Brezhnev was given a free hand to quash the reforms and the country as far as they were concerned. The U.S. specifically had more than its fair share of problems in both Vietnam and the streets of Chicago at the time.
So how likely is it NATO and the West will set their collective hair on fire over Putine’s excursion into Ukraine? Well, it’s not like he invaded to quash some humanistic reforms in Ukraine. But he is seeking to assimilate an old Soviet dance partner back into the arms of mother Russia.
So the odds of any reaction, beyond the scope of sanctions already taken and those left untaken, is about as close to zero as world leaders who hate to pass up any dick-measuring opportunity can come. Ain’t going to happen. Ukraine? Take it. Just don’t get greedy and start making goo-goo eyes at Poland because then you’d be challenging the all-for-one underpinning of NATO.
Sadly, the new world order isn’t any stronger than the old world order... which was largely chaos. Russia still has a seat on the United Nations’ Security Council and, therefore, a veto on any actions taken by that body. Not that they need it since their bosom buddy China is also a permanent member and it seems the new, new world order is likely to be Russia and China against the rest of the world.
So assuming Putine is just suffering from hurt feelings and small-man syndrome and will be happy to stop at Ukraine and not light a nuclear candle, Western nations, and particularly the European Union, will keep tightening the sanction screws until the EU decides whether it can or can’t foresee a future without Russian energy.
Whether Putine’s actions embolden China to perform a shotgun wedding with Taiwan or simply become a drain on that country’s treasury is anybody’s guess. But one way or another, the Cold War 2.0 is beginning to be assembled, at least until Putine is replaced by someone with less anger and more kumbaya.
Not sure how or when that happens but if sanctions have any efficacy, it’ll happen within. The Russian people, the Russian oligarchs, the Russian military leaders will all be players in either supporting or dismantling whatever Mad Vlad has in mind.
And that’s where unfettered free market Western capitalism might play a role.
Back in 2010, Brad Damphousse, Rob Solomon and Andy Ballester had this crazy idea. Being tech and money nerds, they figured there must be a way to do good and make a killing. They started GoFundMe. Brad and Andy bailed six years later and made their killing—the start up being valued at around $600 million at that time—and taking a five-per-cent cut, GoFundMe does a handsome job of funding its investors.
Canada enjoys a spot on the top 10 GoFundMe campaigns of all time with $11.5 million raised for the Humboldt Broncos—No. 5 as of now—with America’s Food Fund still top dog with $45 million. Of course, not all GoFundMe campaigns are as altruistic.
The No. 2 spot is held by We Build the Wall, a fundraiser to build Trump’s U.S.-Mexico wall that raised $25 million. All donations were eventually refunded when the campaign failed to raise the $1 billion target and, later, turned out to be a scam cooked up by, among others, Steve Bannon. Rather than build the wall—and have Mexico pay for it—the folks behind the plot planned to line their pockets.
But really, whether it’s GoFundMe or some other effort, how much could be raised to fund regime change? Not that I’m suggesting anything like that, but let’s be honest, why should it always be some government—some covert, undercover, black-ops action—that brings about a sudden change in a country’s leadership?
The U.S. has done it any number of times in any number of countries. It wasn’t an open, transparent, democratic upswelling of outrage that got Salvador Allende replaced by Augusto Pinochet in Chile. Wasn’t fair and honest elections that replaced Juan Torres with Hugo Banzer in Bolivia. It was money and disaffected military people who made it happen.
And it wasn’t just the U.S. If memory serves, they partnered with the U.K. to choreograph the 1953 coup in Iran that put the Shah in power and kept the oil flowing.
Surely there are dissatisfied generals in the Russian Army who would be tempted by the thought of becoming oligarchs themselves. Wouldn’t be at all surprised if they weren’t waiting around for the go signal and a pot of untraceable money to, well, you know.
If people are fickle enough to contribute $10,000 so Rusty the Rescue Mutt can have ACL surgery, the global population would certainly kick in a few bucks each to keep a madman from firing up World War III. Wouldn’t that be a much more democratic way of operating?
Of course I’m not suggesting a GoFundMe account to do something I’m sure is illegal if done by anyone other than another government, which would deny any knowledge of it.
And just to be clear, since I hate it when my door gets broken down in the middle of the night by security forces, my tongue is firmly planted in my cheek, or whatever the written word equivalent metaphor might be.
