Reflections on War and Leadership
Sir Keir Starmer recently highlighted the sacrifices of 642 British soldiers who lost their lives alongside American forces in Iraq and Afghanistan, responding to a rather dismissive remark made by US Vice President JD Vance. Vance had referred to the UK as a “random country” that hadn’t fought a war in decades, questioning its credibility in providing security guarantees to Ukraine. In his remarks, Starmer named six young soldiers who tragically died while on patrol in Afghanistan, a poignant reminder of the human cost of military engagement.
However, it’s important to note that these soldiers fell in conflicts widely regarded as failures, a reality born from grave miscalculations by British politicians. This sobering history should serve as a cautionary tale as Starmer discusses the prospect of deploying British “boots on the ground” in Ukraine and the intention to form a “coalition of the willing” aimed at deterring Russian aggression in the region.
While Vance’s assertion that the UK has not engaged in recent warfare was misguided, he would have been correct to point out that successive British governments have demonstrated a troubling inability to learn from past mistakes in Iraq and Afghanistan. The importance of these missteps cannot be overstated. Sir Sherard Cowper-Coles, former British ambassador in Kabul from 2007-09, reflects in his memoirs that the most egregious error made by the Foreign Office in the past three decades was the invasion of Iraq, closely followed by its enthusiastic support for Britain’s ill-conceived occupation of Helmand province in 2006.
The Chilcot inquiry, which meticulously analyzed the Iraq war, concluded that the primary focus of British policy following the 2003 invasion was to extricate its forces from Iraq without displeasing the United States. Despite being allies, the inquiry revealed that British influence on American decision-making was minimal at best.
Georges Clemenceau, the French Prime Minister during World War I, famously remarked that “war is too important to be left to military men.” Yet, historical evidence suggests that it is equally unwise to entrust such grave matters solely to politicians. This reality is particularly relevant today, as for the past 80 years, Western political elites have largely acquiesced to US directives while masking their subordinate status. In a shift reminiscent of the bewilderment experienced by Eastern European communist leaders in the late 1980s, Western leaders are now grappling with a new geopolitical landscape that feels foreign and unpredictable.
Starmer’s Coalition and Its Implications
One must question whether Starmer’s much-discussed “coalition of the willing” is primarily an effort to project the UK, France, and their allies as significant players in what could be the concluding chapter of the Ukraine war, or if it serves a more substantive purpose. Is there a genuine intent to deploy soldiers from NATO countries into Ukraine, even as Russia has firmly reiterated its refusal to accept such a scenario? Moreover, with former President Donald Trump withholding military guarantees for the coalition, the stakes are further complicated.
A notable weakness of British political leadership during the Iraq and Afghanistan wars was their tendency to believe their own propaganda, often to their detriment. In Iraq, they underestimated the Iraqis’ willingness to accept the overthrow of Saddam Hussein while resisting a prolonged occupation under a puppet government. Furthermore, neighboring countries had no desire to host a significant American military presence. In Afghanistan, the US, with Britain in tow, mistakenly convinced themselves that the Taliban had been permanently defeated, disregarding the realities faced by those familiar with the situation on the ground. The very individuals who once targeted British soldiers in Helmand now govern Kabul.
This gross misunderstanding of the political landscapes in Iraq and Afghanistan was a crucial factor in the West’s failures there, resulting in years of violence and devastation from which neither nation has fully recovered. A similar catastrophe awaits European involvement in the Ukraine crisis unless political leaders adopt a more grounded understanding of the war’s origins and potential resolutions.
Wars have always been waged on two fronts: the military battlefield and the arena of information warfare. George Beebe, a former head of Russian analysis at the CIA and now affiliated with the Quincy Institute for Responsible Statecraft, notes that “armies of information warriors” have been engaged in a battle to shape public perception of the conflict. He argues that Western governments, mainstream media, the Ukrainian government, and PR firms have collaborated to create a distorted narrative of the Ukraine war, characterizing it as a modern-day replay of World War II, with President Vladimir Putin and Russia depicted as contemporary versions of Hitler and Nazi Germany intent on conquering Ukraine and advancing into Central Europe.
Those who challenge this narrative, including Trump, are often labeled as “appeasers” or “betrayers of Ukraine,” or accused of echoing “Moscow’s talking points.” Until recently, diplomatic solutions were dismissed as impractical, fostering a belief that the war could only conclude with a Ukrainian victory and a Russian surrender—an outcome that seemed increasingly improbable following Ukraine’s unsuccessful counter-offensive in the summer of 2023.
Despite incessant gatherings among European leaders, a viable strategy to resolve the conflict remains elusive. They have failed to supplant their World War II-era perspective with a realistic approach to achieving peace, an outcome that must be acceptable to both parties involved, as Trump has consistently emphasized.
Beebe argues that the origins of the Ukraine war bear more resemblance to the events leading to World War I than to those of the Second World War. In 1914, Kaiser Wilhelm II launched an assault through neutral Belgium, aiming for a swift victory over France. Similarly, Putin invaded Ukraine in 2022, under the impression that his forces would quickly seize Kyiv and claim victory. Both campaigns ultimately fell short of their objectives. The armistice of 1918 and the subsequent Treaty of Versailles failed to establish a stable security framework in Europe, leading to catastrophic repercussions and a withdrawal of American engagement from the continent.
A ceasefire between Ukraine and Russia is now reportedly on the horizon, according to Trump, although this remains uncertain. The Russians may opt to negotiate while simultaneously continuing military operations, believing that a war of attrition favors them due to their vastly larger population. Additionally, Putin is likely aware that Trump’s potential shift towards Moscow—stemming from a pause in US military support for Ukraine—could change, or that Trump might simply disengage from the conflict altogether.
European nations now plan to invest substantial resources to bolster their military forces, yet they do not face a threat akin to Hitler in 1939 or Stalin in 1945. The Russian military has made minimal progress since the initial weeks of the invasion, and it is an exaggerated notion to suggest they could sweep through Europe. In a speech at Verdun in 1919, Clemenceau remarked that “it is easier to make war than to make peace.” European leaders must begin to contemplate more seriously how a sustainable peace can be achieved.
Further Observations
The British tendency to ingratiate themselves with US presidents is often more embarrassing than effective, resembling the actions of a destitute relative seeking acceptance from a wealthy family in a Victorian novel. Did Starmer and Downing Street genuinely believe that an invitation for a state visit from King Charles would render Trump, one of the most formidable politicians on the global stage, overcome with gratitude?
Historically, British governments have consistently overestimated their influence in Washington. I recall my time as a correspondent in the US in 1994, when President Bill Clinton granted a visa to Sinn Féin leader Gerry Adams, despite fierce opposition from the British government. Initially, British diplomats expressed confidence that the visa would be denied. When it was granted, I, along with other journalists, was summoned to the British embassy, where a visibly furious ambassador expressed his outrage over the American snub. The following day, however, the ambassador, now in a state of complete exasperation, chastised us for suggesting that he cared about the visa issue.
Beneath the Surface
The media often exhibits a troubling tendency to forget its past support for disastrous government decisions, conveniently ignoring the ensuing consequences for as long as possible. The Vietnam and Iraq wars serve as prime examples of this self-serving amnesia exhibited by mainstream news outlets.
Yet, it is striking to observe how quickly the US media is now attributing blame to everyone but itself for failing to report on President Joe Biden’s cognitive decline from 2020 to 2024—an oversight that paved the way for Trump’s potential return to the White House. Until Biden’s public meltdown during the television debate with Trump on June 27, 2024, journalists who were aware of his condition remained silent, even as polls indicated that a majority of American voters perceived him as too old for the position.
Jake Tapper and Alex Thompson are set to release Original Sin: President Biden’s decline, its cover-up, and his disastrous choice to run again. The synopsis claims to delve into “one of the most significant decisions in American political history: Joe Biden’s re-election campaign despite clear evidence of his serious decline—amid desperate efforts to obscure the extent of that deterioration.” Biden, his family, and senior aides were so convinced that only he could defeat Trump again that, according to the book’s press release, “they lied to themselves, allies, and the public about his condition and limitations.”
Many were aware of Biden’s deteriorating mental faculties, and the book will draw upon insights from “White House staffers at all levels, from congressional leaders to governors and Hollywood figures.” Curiously, there is no mention of White House correspondents within this narrative, whose role should have included revealing Biden’s cognitive challenges.
Biden’s decision to pursue re-election, as the press release describes, appears “shockingly narcissistic, self-delusional, and reckless—a desperate gamble that ultimately failed—a part of a broader act of public deception with few precedents.” Critics have already surfaced a clip of Tapper, a prominent figure at CNN, dismissing an interviewee who suggested that Biden’s mental acuity was waning.
Beyond the media’s role in this debacle, it will be fascinating to see how Tapper and Thompson tackle a more pressing issue: to what extent did Biden’s poor judgment on policy and the selection of capable subordinates contribute to the outbreak and ongoing failure to resolve brutal conflicts in Ukraine and the Middle East?
Cockburn’s Insights
In the era of Trump’s MAGA movement, some have turned to Edward Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire for solace and insight. Jeffrey St. Clair references a poignant passage concerning Emperor Commodus and his ruthless associate Cleander, drawing a clear parallel to the relationship between Trump and Elon Musk.
