By Nick Catoggio
Thursday, August 27, 2026
It’s not often that the director of the CIA swings by
Moscow for a tête-à-tête. The last time it happened before this week was November 2021, when William Burns felt obliged to warn the
Kremlin in person that we knew what it was planning for Ukraine.
The physical presence of America’s top spy was obviously
meant to communicate the gravity of the White House’s concern. Hence the
suspense surrounding CIA chief John Ratcliffe’s surprise visit to the Russian capital yesterday: What
unknown yet undoubtedly alarming development might have led the Trump
administration to order its own extraordinary intervention?
Could Vladimir Putin be considering an atomic solution to
the Ukrainian stalemate?
“The escalating spiral of strikes is leading a growing
number of Russian officials to the conclusion that Putin could eventually opt
to use tactical nuclear weapons as a last resort in Ukraine,” sources close to
the Kremlin told Bloomberg. Yet as much as that prospect might
delight vatniks and/or Tucker Carlson, it’s probably idle saber rattling
(for now). Firing off a small nuke or two at the widely dispersed Ukrainian
front line would likely gain Russia less militarily than it would cost in terms
of international isolation.
Another theory: Maybe, contra Burns, Ratcliffe was
dispatched not to threaten the Russians but to feel them out on a devil’s
bargain aimed at curing the president’s migraine in the Persian Gulf. For
instance, “if you can get Iran to reopen the Strait of Hormuz, we’ll pull out
of NATO.”
With Trump all things are possible, but the director of
the CIA would be an odd choice to deliver that message. A grand bargain with
Russia in which Europe ends up stabbed in the back is the sort of deal the
president would relish brokering himself, one would think. Or, at least,
something he’d farm out to a Putin-friendly toady like Steve Witkoff.
By the very nature of his agency’s work (not to mention
its cooperation with Ukraine), Ratcliffe is the guy you send
when you’re taking an adversarial position toward the Kremlin. A more likely
explanation for his visit is that he was there, à la Burns, to try to deter the
Russians from some dangerously reckless new action they’re planning in their
near-abroad.
Like attacking NATO.
That was in fact the purpose of the visit, according to
the Wall Street Journal. Earlier this month the paper reported that U.S. intelligence now has reason to believe
Putin “could try to test NATO’s resolve with a limited assault on an allied
country in the next few years,” with options ranging from cyberattacks to a
“small-scale land incursion.” The fact that Ratcliffe felt moved to warn Russia
now suggests that the timeline for the expected provocation skews more toward
sooner than later, though. And if you’ve been following the news overseas, you
know why.
Numerous weapons factories in Ukraine-supporting European
countries have been targeted in mysterious acts of sabotage this year,
mirroring Ukraine’s attacks on Russian logistics sites. Germany recently discovered three drones carrying explosives at Leipzig’s
airport, a hub used to ship military supplies to Kyiv. And last month Russian
military officials visited Kaliningrad, a small Russian exclave located
between Poland and Lithuania, allegedly to oversee “readiness planning and
procedures for a mobilization of the region’s residents, with details on how to
house, feed, and arm them.”
Coincidentally, last week NATO staged an unusually
large air exercise near Kaliningrad, part of a “flurry of
activity” by the alliance in the Baltics lately. Today Elbridge Colby, the U.S.
undersecretary of defense for policy, is meeting
with the head of NATO and the North Atlantic Council to discuss … something,
possibly America’s defense posture in Europe, possibly matters more urgent.
And news broke yesterday that Germany is negotiating with Britain to invest in the latter’s nuclear deterrent, part of a plan to
extend Europe’s nuclear umbrella eastward toward Moscow.
It all seems ominous—except for the fact that the
battered Russian military is in no condition to test Europe, right? By one estimate Russia has suffered 1.4 million casualties in
Ukraine, including upward of 500,000 deaths. Ratcliffe himself claimed last
month that the average Russian soldier lasts just 20-30 minutes on the battlefield before being killed or
disabled. Surely a country that’s choking to death from trying to bite off a
piece of its much smaller neighbor isn’t about to sink its teeth into NATO. Why
is the CIA chief so worried that it might do so, let alone do so soon?
The answer to that question is another question: If not
now, when?
Now or never.
Strange as it may sound, in many ways this is an
opportune moment for Putin to confront the West. The point of a Russian
incursion in the Baltics wouldn’t be to defeat NATO militarily, which is
implausible given the two-front war Moscow would be compelled to wage. The
point would be to defeat it strategically—that is, to gamble that the alliance
would fold rather than fight, provided that the incursion is small enough.
A likely target is the Suwalki Gap, a corridor that runs
through Poland and Lithuania and connects Kaliningrad with Russia’s ally
Belarus. Taking it wouldn’t necessarily require a huge force. In one war game
conducted last year, a contingent of 15,000 Russian troops successfully seized
a Lithuanian city there. “The U.S. didn’t invoke Article 5 and Germany
dithered, ultimately leaving Russia victorious in its territorial snatch and in
its goal of undermining NATO,” Newsweek noted of the outcome.
But why would Russia try it now? Because: Even more so
than usual, an overextended White House is compelled by circumstance to think
twice before involving America in any new wars.
Set aside the president’s own fecklessness and
ideological sympathies, to which we’ll return later. Logistically, the U.S. is
in no position at the moment to wage a two-front war of its own. “In a
potential conflict with Russia, weapons such as the Precision Strike Missile
and Army Tactical Missile Systems … are crucial to repel a land invasion,” the Journal explains. Thanks to Trump’s folly in
Iran, we’re a little short on both.
Considering how unpopular that folly has become with American voters, any
president would be leery of thrusting the country into a second military
conflict—especially one that would have us fighting Iran and Russia
simultaneously, the closest the United States will have come to a world war
since 1945. (So much for Trump the dove.) With the midterm election impending,
Putin isn’t crazy for surmising that the White House would sooner betray NATO
than foist another conflict on a disgruntled electorate.
The timing is opportune for Russia in another way. After
four years of combat in Ukraine, it’s used to war and can hit the ground
running if it chooses to extend hostilities westward. Europe isn’t, and
can’t—for now.
That window of opportunity for the Kremlin is slowly
closing, though, as Germany’s interest in a nuclear deterrent demonstrates.
Europe is rearming, spooked by Putin’s brutality in Kyiv and America’s romance
with postliberalism; the day is coming when NATO will be able to repel Russia
even without U.S. support. The day is also coming when our romance with
postliberalism will end and an Atlanticist will return to the White House, more
willing to defend the liberal Western order against Moscow than the current
occupant is.
Realistically, then, if you’re Vladimir Putin, your dream
of breaking NATO might have a shelf life of as little as two years. So why
wait? In particular, why wait until after the Ukraine war is over, when
relieved Russian citizens will expect a period of quiescence to recover from
their nightmare? If the rumors are true that the Kremlin is about to order a
huge new military draft to replenish its manpower, why not
capitalize on the surge in forces to test Europe now?
As Tablet writer Park
MacDougald put it, the Russian leadership believes “that the West, which
sustains Ukraine, is not psychologically, morally, or politically prepared for
war. Russia is, and that gives Russia an asymmetric advantage.” The West will
be prepared again someday. But not today.
Attacking Europe would do something else for the Kremlin,
supplying a rationale for an ongoing national trauma that’s conspicuously
lacked one for years.
Although they’d never admit it, the average Russian must
be wondering what the point is of a conflict that’s dragged on longer than it
took the Red Army to smash the Nazi empire and seems to be getting worse for their country over time. How can a few miles of the Donbas be worth four
and a half years of wanton bloodletting and the incremental depopulation of
Russian males?
Seizing European territory would give Putin an answer. We’re
not fighting Ukraine, we’re fighting the entire West. And we’re winning. We
took the Suwalki Gap. We broke NATO. We’ve achieved something that even Stalin
and the Soviet Union never dared attempt.
The idea of extending the fight westward might appeal to
Russians emotionally too, as they must realize that the explosions that now
routinely rock their country wouldn’t be possible without material support from
Ukraine’s European allies. “Moscow increasingly views the Ukrainian strikes as
attacks by NATO states because alliance members supply Kyiv with weapons and
intelligence,” sources told Bloomberg. Turnabout is fair play in the Kremlin’s
eyes: If the Ukrainians are going to try to cripple the Russian military by targeting its supply lines, Russia will respond in kind by
targeting the nations supplying Ukraine.
That’s the message that the explosive drones found at
Leipzig’s airport were undoubtedly meant to convey. A modest invasion of the
Baltics would convey it in a much grander way.
Escalating to de-escalate.
There’s one more reason Putin might want to test NATO
sooner, not later. Even if he orders another military draft, the war is likely
to get harder for him if it drags on.
Russian citizens have begun pulling their money from banks for fear that the
cash-hungry government will start seizing their savings to fund the conflict.
Hopes that a friendly American president might squeeze Ukraine to surrender to
the Kremlin have faded amid Trump’s preoccupation with Iran and his admiration for the Ukrainian drone offensive. And Ukraine’s
military capabilities continue to grow: Very soon, with help from its European friends, the country will begin striking deep
inside Russia with homemade ballistic missiles.
It’s all (or mostly) downhill from here. The poor
prognosis for the Russian economy led one European consultant to tell CNBC, “If I were Putin, God forbid, I would probably decide
that it is in my interest to escalate now and try to finish the war on my
terms, than wait until the money ends sometime in the future.”
It seems counterintuitive that a nation that desperately
needs a war to end might choose to expand it, but there’s logic to it. It’s
known in military doctrine as “escalate to de-escalate,” which we’ve discussed
here before.
“Escalate to de-escalate” is a close cousin of “the madman
theory” made famous by Richard Nixon. The idea in both cases is to scare
the hell out of your enemy by making them believe you might do something so
wildly reckless (usually involving nuclear weapons) that they see little choice
but to appease you. A “small-scale land incursion” by Russia into the Baltics
would be a perfect example. Instantly it would force the West to the brink of
its most dangerous military conflict since World War II, risking all-out war
with Moscow …
… unless, of course, certain concessions were made that
convinced the Russian army to withdraw peacefully from NATO territory and end
its offensive against Ukraine.
Cut off all military support to Kyiv and convince
Volodymyr Zelensky to sign a peace deal coughing up the Donbas and we’ll give
back the Suwalki Gap. How’s that for a de-escalatory bargain?
Europeans wouldn’t want to accept that offer, fearing
that doing so would encourage Russia to stage additional not-so-small-scale
land incursions in the future (see, e.g., Ukraine 2014 and Ukraine 2022), but
they might not have a choice if the president of the United States wanted to
accept it. Do we think he’d accept it?
I’m not sure.
There are obvious reasons he might, starting with the
fecklessness and ideological sympathies I mentioned earlier. Trump has always
craved détente with authoritarian Russia; no president since the Cold War has
been more reluctant to confront Moscow militarily than he is. He’s also a ripe
target to be terrorized by an “escalate to de-escalate” ploy, as he’s been
bleating about the Ukraine war as a prelude to World War III since his last
presidential campaign—and chastised Zelensky about it to his face during the latter’s
infamous Oval Office visit in 2025.
The president is also chronically aggrieved at Europe,
more so than ever lately after America’s NATO allies declined to join his silly
war in Iran. It’s easy to imagine him reacting to news of a Russian invasion of
Poland with a shrug: “They didn’t help us with the Strait of Hormuz, why would
we help them with Putin?” I wouldn’t even put it past Trump to dial up the
Kremlin and offer to recognize their authority over the territory they’ve
seized if they can persuade Iran to reopen the strait. He’s a fan of quid pro quos, you may have heard.
If nothing else, he might decline to join a military
effort to oust Russian troops for simple fear of what war in Europe would do to
the U.S. economy. Which wouldn’t be the first time that he sold out to a rogue regime to spare himself a presidential
legacy of economic hardship.
Still, to believe that Trump would meekly surrender to a
Russian incursion into Europe means believing he’d compound his current show of
weakness in Iran with a second, more consequential show of weakness toward
Putin. That seems unlikely. You can’t obsess about “strength” as much as the
president does and run around losing—or ducking—fights repeatedly. If you do,
some of the kids on the schoolyard whom you’re hoping to bully in the future
might begin to draw certain lessons about you.
There are also plenty of Russia hawks in Congress and
more than a few in and around the White House, of whom Ratcliffe appears to be
one, who’ll egg him on to show some spine. If Trump were planning to sit idly
by while the Kremlin stages a sneak attack on Europe, it’s strange that
Ratcliffe would have been deputized to formally warn them against doing so, no?
My guess is that the president would approach a Russian
incursion into NATO territory the way he’s approached U.S. backing for Ukraine,
splitting the baby by reducing America’s support without ending it altogether.
Kyiv doesn’t get free weapons from us anymore, but it does still get
intelligence. NATO wouldn’t get any American troops to help push the Russians
out—RIP, Article 5—but Trump probably would pledge intelligence, some weapons,
and perhaps a few fun bonuses like access for Ukraine to Starlink inside Russia to help with
long-range targeting.
But before the fighting got going, he and his team would
be desperately trying to broker a ceasefire in which Russia withdraws in
exchange for, say, promises of an urgent international diplomatic effort to
settle the war in Ukraine plus sanctions relief to ease the pressure on the
Russian economy.
I suspect Putin would take that deal, having scored a
moral victory by dividing America from NATO. Trump would take it too, as it
would revive his dream of midwifing a compromise to end the war and give him a
chance at a diplomatic win after the Iran debacle. And Europeans? They’d have
to decide whether rejecting his proposal, risking a total break with America
and having to fight Russia alone, is preferable to grudgingly acquiescing. As
ever, the strong do what they can, and the weak suffer what they must.