Why Does Britain Seem So Fucking Keen on a War With Russia?
Every time I look at Britain these days somebody seems to be talking about Russia. Russia is coming. Russia is threatening us. We need more weapons. More drones. More missiles. More defence spending. More readiness. More everything. It's like somebody in Westminster found an old Cold War starter kit in a cupboard and thought, fuck it, let's get this going again.
And before anyone starts, yes, Russia invaded Ukraine. I'm not confused about that. Russia invaded another country and Ukraine has every right to defend itself. Britain supporting Ukraine doesn't mean Britain wants a war with Russia either. The British government's position is that all this extra military spending and support is meant to deter Russia and prevent a bigger war. Fine. I understand the argument. If there's an aggressive bastard living down the road, putting a decent lock on the door isn't unreasonable.
What I don't understand is why Britain increasingly sounds like the bloke outside the pub who claims he doesn't want a fight while taking his jacket off.
That's the bit that makes me nervous.
Britain is spending enormous amounts on defence, sending billions in military support to Ukraine, rebuilding ammunition stocks, buying drones, working on long range weapons, strengthening the nuclear deterrent and making plans with European countries for what happens next. The government talks about Russia as the major threat to European security and says Britain's defence starts in Ukraine.
Britain's defence starts in Ukraine.
Does it.
Because the last time I looked, Ukraine was quite a long fucking way from Dover.
I know what they mean. Security doesn't stop neatly at national borders. If Russia keeps invading neighbouring countries then eventually everybody in Europe has a very serious problem. I get it. But there's something about the language that bothers me because the boundary keeps moving. We're not involved, we're supporting. We're not escalating, we're deterring. We're not preparing for war, we're preparing to prevent war.
It reminds me of two pissed blokes in a pub squaring up to each other while their mates insist everything is under control.
Nobody wants trouble.
One bloke has taken his watch off.
The other one is holding a chair.
Everything's fine.
And the bloke we're doing all this with is Russia.
Russia.
A nuclear armed country.
This isn't Britain getting into an argument with Denmark over fishing rights. Russia has enough nuclear weapons to make house prices, pension contributions and whether you've remembered to put the recycling out rather academic.
Perhaps that's worth keeping somewhere near the front of the brain.
I'm not saying Britain should crawl underneath the kitchen table whenever Putin says something unpleasant. Russia understands weakness perfectly well. NATO has to be credible or there's no point having it. Europe also spent years letting its military capacity shrink because everybody assumed the nasty stuff was over. Then Russia invaded Ukraine and suddenly everyone discovered that artillery shells don't grow on trees.
So yes, defence matters.
But there has to be somewhere between being weak and standing outside Russia's house banging two saucepan lids together.
Britain sometimes seems to struggle with that middle bit.
I think part of it is that Britain still hasn't completely accepted that the Empire is over. Somewhere underneath Westminster there's still a tiny man wearing a pith helmet looking at a map and wondering where all the pink went.
Some international crisis happens and the old machinery starts coughing into life.
Britain must lead.
Britain must act.
Britain must send a carrier.
Britain must stand firm.
Meanwhile there's a pothole outside Birmingham that's developed its own weather system.
That's Britain in a nutshell. The council can't empty your bins properly but don't worry, we're sorting out European security.
There's also a shitload of money involved.
Of course there is.
Governments are pouring money into defence. Companies are building weapons, drones, ships and missiles. Factories expand. Contracts get signed. Jobs depend on those contracts. Shareholders like the contracts. Politicians like announcing jobs. Everybody around the table gets another biscuit.
That doesn't mean there's some Bond villain sitting underneath Whitehall stroking a cat and planning World War Three.
It doesn't need to.
Money creates its own plumbing.
Once enough people are earning a living from the pipe, nobody is terribly keen to turn the tap off.
That's just how systems work.
The thing that bothers me most, though, is how clean the language becomes.
Capability.
Readiness.
Deterrence.
Strategic assets.
Security guarantees.
Long range systems.
Very tidy.
War isn't tidy.
War is some young bloke getting half his body removed by a piece of metal travelling faster than sound.
That's war.
It's somebody's house becoming a pile of bricks. It's somebody's dad not coming home. It's a mother getting a telephone call she spends the rest of her life wishing she hadn't answered.
I think politicians should occasionally be forced to use those words instead.
Instead of saying we're increasing strike capability, say we're buying more things that can blow people's arms off.
Just occasionally.
Keep everybody awake.
Because once war gets turned into PowerPoint language, it's much easier to move the little boxes around.
And that's why all the chest beating makes me uncomfortable. Not because I think Russia is lovely. Not because I think Ukraine should surrender. Not because I think Britain should dismantle the military and replace Trident with a strongly worded letter.
I just don't trust escalation.
Once that bastard starts rolling downhill, everybody thinks they're controlling it until they aren't.
History is full of governments confidently explaining that they've got the situation under control five minutes before the furniture comes through the window.
And with Russia there's another rather important problem.
Nuclear weapons.
Everybody knows they're there, but we talk about them like the emergency axe behind glass on a train. Yes, technically it exists, but nobody expects anyone to touch it.
I hope they're right.
That's quite a large fucking hope.
This is where I want to hear more about the exit.
Not victory slogans.
Not another announcement about ammunition.
The exit.
How does this eventually stop.
What's the ugly compromise at the end.
What does Russia get. What does Ukraine get. What does Europe get. What does everybody swallow that they absolutely fucking hate because the alternative is another ten years of people being fed into a meat grinder.
That's diplomacy.
Nobody gets the whole sandwich.
Everybody goes home annoyed.
Good.
Annoyed is considerably better than dead.
Maybe Britain's strategy works. Maybe building up European military strength makes Russia less likely to push further. That's the whole point of deterrence and it isn't a stupid argument. If somebody thinks punching you will result in losing their teeth, they might keep their hands in their pockets.
I understand that.
What worries me is when everybody starts carrying bigger sticks and congratulating themselves on how peaceful they're being.
Eventually the room is full of nervous people holding baseball bats.
One bloke sneezes and Poland mobilises.
I'd just like to hear a bit more enthusiasm for getting out of the room.
Because Britain isn't at war with Russia.
I would quite like to keep it that way.
Russia has already shown that it's willing to use enormous violence to get what it wants. That's exactly why dealing with it requires some fucking intelligence rather than endless macho bollocks.
Strength, yes.
Deterrence, yes.
Support Ukraine, yes.
But perhaps occasionally somebody in Westminster could put the military drum down and use the telephone.
The whole thing feels like standing in a petrol station watching two blokes argue while one of them is smoking.
Maybe nothing happens.
Maybe the cigarette gets stamped out.
Maybe everybody goes home.
I'd still prefer someone to stop pouring petrol around.