“Take a charitable view,” was the advice of Sir Wilmot Lewis, the
veteran correspondent of The Times in Washington in the last century,
“bearing in mind that every government will do as much harm as it can and as
much good as it must”.
His cynical words are particularly pertinent in times of war because it
is then that governments have an unrivalled opportunity to do harm. They can
wrap themselves in the national flag and denounce their critics as unpatriotic
appeasers. Most dangerously, they can purport to be providing good judgement
and competent administration despite a dismal track record of bungling and
dishonesty in the handling of domestic crises far less complex than the demands
of warfare.
A frightening example of this born-again bombast came this week when British
Foreign Secretary, Liz Truss, made a speech at the Mansion House in
London expressing enthusiasm
for maximum war aims. “We
will keep going further and faster to push Russia out of the whole of Ukraine,”
she said, which would mean backing a Ukrainian counter-offensive to retake
Crimea and the Russian-backed separatist republics in the Donbas. These are objectives
that any Russian leader, regardless of whether or not Vladimir Putin remains in
the Kremlin, is likely to resist.
“Britain has always stood up to bullies,” said Truss. “We have always
been risk takers.” This is a rather serious misreading of British foreign
policy, which historically has tended to be cautious and avoid risky leaps in
the dark. Overall, Truss’s reduction of foreign policy to a series of
triumphalist slogans could be set to music and take its place in an updated
version of “Oh! What a Lovely War”.
But if the British Government’s actions in a military conflict – in
which it is becoming more engaged by the day – is as inept as its performance
in times of peace, then we face a dark and uncertain future. Evidence for this
is not hard to find since on the same day that Truss was indulging in undiluted
war euphoria, the High Court in London was issuing a judgment saying that the
Government’s policy towards care homes in England in 2020 – alleged to have killed
20,000 inmates – was “irrational” and “unlawful”. The judges concluded that the
then health secretary, Matt Hancock, had “failed to take into account the risk
to elderly and vulnerable residents from non-systematic transmission”.
This is probably a better example of recent British risk taking than
anything Truss may have had in mind in lauding this approach as a national
tradition. Wild-eyed boosterism followed by practical failure has been the
motif of Boris Johnson’s government over the past three years.
Patent though this government’s failings have has been, one could take
some comfort in the hope that its ability to do harm would be mitigated by its
own incompetent grasp of the levers of power. “There is a great deal of ruin in
a nation,” Adam Smith famously said in 1777, downplaying the capacity of a poor
government with bad policies to bring about national ruin.
However, an exception to the great economist’s rule occurs in wartime.
Political leaders who have seen their schemes founder or prove ineffectual at
home are suddenly taking decisions of life and death for thousands of people.
They tend to revel in this new authority – however incapable they are of
exercising it competently.
I suspect that successful politicians, more than most individuals, have
an inner Napoleon who is always struggling to break free and send armies into
battle. In so doing, their self-confidence differs markedly from the French
emperor, who warned against preconceived ideas about what was happening, or going
to happen, on the battlefield because such notions usually turned out to be
wrong.
Vladimir Putin is one of many good examples of a leader whose belief in
his own propaganda lured him into launching an invasion of Ukraine that could
succeed only in the unlikely event of there being no Ukrainian resistance. Putin
has tried to adjust to this reality which is so different from his
expectations. At the beginning, he tried to wage a conventional war in Europe
with inadequate Russian forces, still at their peacetime level of mobilisation
because they were engaged only in his special military operation.
Yet Putin’s false optimism about his prospects for military victory
cannot be attributed to his “isolation in the Kremlin”, or to the “blood-soaked
traditions of Russian history”. This has been a common feature in most military
conflicts that I have reported on – from the Israeli invasion of Lebanon in
1982 to the Nato intervention in Libya in 2011.
Most of these wars ended disastrously for those who started them because
they did not understand that military conflicts have so many moving parts, seen
and unseen, that their length and outcome cannot be predicted.
President George W Bush was pilloried for standing beneath a banner
reading “Mission Accomplished” after the invasion of Iraq in 2003, but this
sense of premature accomplishment is common to most wars. The same is likely to
be true of Ukraine because so many countries with divergent interests are now
involved.
But there is another wild card that makes the Ukraine war even more
dangerous. The decision-makers in wars really do matter, but the calibre of
leadership in the White House and in Downing Street is at a historic low in all
three cases.
The British Government has been hopping from scandal to scandal and
failure to failure at home and is unlikely to perform better abroad. President
Joe Biden appears to believe that this is a chance to win a smashing victory
over Russia, but his war aims remain hazy, except for his blinded hatred for
Russia.
The ballooning arrogant self-confidence of the Nato powers has led to them
cavalierly dismissing as phoney the risk of Russia using tactical or strategic
nuclear weapons. Well-publicised Russian missile tests are played down as mere
sabre rattling, though the last time Putin rattled a sabre – by threatening to
invade Ukraine – he did exactly that.
The low quality of the main leaders inside and outside Ukraine is
significant because the war may soon enter a third and more violent phase.
Because Vladimir Putin initially believed that he was not
fighting a real war he has never carried out a
full mobilisation. Shortage of infantry has been the abiding weakness of the
Russian war effort during the first phase of the conflict.
The same is still true of the second phase of the war, which is being fought out in the Donbas. But, if that also fails, and backed by USA&Nato’s military Ukraine launches a counter-offensive, then Putin may have little choice but to declare a general mobilisation rather than face a defeat.
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