Ukraine and the Armchair Generals

The fact that the president of the nation that has contributed the least militarily and financially to Ukraine's defensive effort rushes to Kyiv to celebrate the third anniversary of the start of the Russian invasion—and I am talking about Pedro Sánchez and Spain—should make everyone who is outraged by Donald Trump's proposal to reach a peace agreement between the United States and Russia to end the conflict think twice.

I said from the beginning of the invasion that this war could not be won by either side, but neither wanted to lose it. No one shared my vision in those days. Back then, both Biden and the main European leaders took for granted the same assumption as Vladimir Putin: that in three days, Russian troops would be in Kyiv. But that was not the case. Deceived by his indignation, poor intelligence, and ambition, Putin led his army into one of its worst humiliations, forcing a retreat to the lines already under Russian control since 2014.

Americans and Europeans offered Zelensky the chance to be evacuated with his family in the face of what they considered an imminent debacle. But he responded with a phrase that will go down in history: "I don't need a ride out of Ukraine; I need weapons to fight." That was in February 2022. It wasn’t until April, about two months after Russia’s "special operation" began, that the EU started to consider how to assist Ukraine’s defense beyond the usual institutional declarations, diplomatic sanctions, and economic penalties against Russia.

Once Ukraine's rapid defeat was ruled out, it was time to supply military equipment, humanitarian aid, and financial support. But the fear that Putin would follow through on his threats to use nuclear weapons if the fighting reached Russian soil led NATO and EU members to adopt a paradoxical strategy that perfectly satisfied their moral and strategic needs: providing enough material to prevent Ukraine's collapse but nothing that could facilitate an attack on Russia. Furthermore, no direct intervention that would pit Western allies against Russia and plunge us all into World War III.

There were some adventurous figures, such as the then-EU High Representative for Foreign Affairs, Socialist Josep Borrell, who dared to announce the imminent purchase and delivery of F-16s to Ukraine—without any authority to do so, without the financial capacity to execute it, and, even more ignorantly, without knowing that those aircraft could not be piloted by Ukrainian aviators without extensive training, as they were trained on Russian MiGs. I don’t know if Borrell truly believed what he was saying or if he thought it was Europe’s moment to overtake NATO, which had failed to deter Moscow. We all know how institutional wars unfold...

A year later, in the spring of 2023, no one agreed with my view that this war could neither be won nor lost. Trained and equipped by the United States, NATO, and the EU, supported by Elon Musk’s communication technologies, American and British intelligence, and possessing high combat morale, Ukraine’s military forces seemed poised to turn the tide. While preparing the famous "summer offensive"—which never materialized due to Zelensky’s indecision—Westerners began to believe that Putin could indeed lose this war. The narrative shifted from "Zelensky is doomed" to "Putin is doomed." No news broadcast failed to mention the possibility of a coup in Moscow, given the war’s cost, the harsh sanctions, and battlefield failures.

And yet, in Moscow, the ruble remained stable, its oil continued flowing to half the world, its industrial capacity was recovering, and, even worse, its diplomatic relations with India, Lula's Brazil, China, South Africa, Iran, and thirty other nations—representing more than half of the world's population and nearly 40% of global GDP—were strengthening to the point where they refused to vote in the UN to condemn Russia’s invasion.

Still, people claimed Putin's days were numbered.

But no. Russia absorbed material and human losses, built impregnable defensive lines in eastern Ukraine, compensated for ammunition shortages with the help of Iran and North Korea, and, most crucially, thwarted the long-awaited summer offensive, inflicting severe losses on the Ukrainians—both in materials and human lives.

Suddenly, despite nearly $300 billion in aid to Kyiv, Westerners began to lose faith in Ukraine’s victory, though they were content to bleed Moscow dry. The rhetoric then became "Putin, the aggressor, cannot win." Although Putin thought otherwise.

The suspension of U.S. military aid by Congress at the end of 2023 (until spring 2024), coupled with Russia’s industrial capacity, mobilization, and improved military operations, pushed Kyiv to the brink of collapse. And despite some tactical gains, including attacks and incursions on Russian soil, the war that was supposed to weaken Putin began to severely weaken the Ukrainians, to the point of causing panic in European capitals. French President Emmanuel Macron warned that Ukraine’s defeat was a threat to all of Europe and argued that to ensure Russian tanks did not reach, like the Germans 80 years earlier, the Champs-Élysées, Europe would have to send troops to fight alongside Ukrainian soldiers.

Needless to say, this little Napoleon’s dreams were repudiated by all EU and NATO partners and Biden’s United States. Against Putin, only Ukrainian blood could be shed.

Once the British Prime Minister lost his position, Macron lost his early elections, and Biden was pushed out of the presidential race in favor of Kamala, the U.S. presidential elections arrived. And with them, Donald Trump.

Europeans, so accustomed to living in a fantasy world, first thought Trump could never win. And when he did, they assumed his presidency would be like his first: a lot of bluster but ultimately controlled by the establishment.

But they were wrong again. Trump is a strategic tsunami. Tariff policies aside, his stance on Ukraine is entirely unacceptable to them. "Nothing about Ukraine without Ukraine," they shout, while live broadcasts show U.S.-Russia negotiations taking place—not in neutral Switzerland, but in Saudi Arabia. The media laments "the betrayal" of Western liberal values, the disregard for allies, the stab in Zelensky’s back...

Europe, after the USSR's collapse, bet on the so-called "peace dividends." That is, converting military bases into golf courses and firing ranges into ecological reserves. The result? Today, Europe collectively can field barely 300 operational tanks for any emergency. Yet, we claim we will decisively defeat Moscow.

The new battle cry is "increase military spending." And Spain camouflages it by stingily raising the salaries of its soldiers. But for what? And how?

In reality, Europe does not need to spend so much more on defense as the new warmongers now say. What Europe urgently needs is moral rearmament. It must revive a culture where war, unfortunately, is part of our existence. Only then should we determine what is truly needed, for what, with what systems, and against who. Not put the cart before the horse.

In short, Trump has dropped like an atomic bomb. Not so much for what he says and does—his "America First"—but because he has placed Europeans in an uncomfortable position: either continue dreaming in Disneyland or face reality.

For those outraged by the idea of negotiating with Putin but who neither have the will nor the ability to alter the course of this war—let alone bring it to an end—they should remember that Zelensky himself began negotiating peace with Moscow just three days after the Russian invasion. But unfortunately for him, for his dead, and for all of us, his willingness to make a deal collapsed because of us, the Europeans, who promised everything, though we could deliver nothing. Believing that with foreign aid he could resist and win, his willingness to negotiate evaporated. With Ukraine military deterioration over time and Russia’s effective reorganization, Putin’s willingness to negotiate also disappeared.

It is easy to wage war from the comfort and safety of our living rooms. But it is immoral to send Ukrainians to a certain death without any real chance of victory, which is exactly what is happening today. Negotiating to stop the war today is a better alternative than deepening a defeat on the battlefield tomorrow—whether we like it or not. From the serenity of Doñana, Pedro Sánchez can calmly scheme to appear in as many photos as he wants as the great defender of Ukraine’s sovereignty (which, by the way, he refuses to defend for his own country). But his frivolity, along with the personal ambitions of the likes of Von der Leyen and Macron, is leading us toward collective suicide—losing the war with Russia and the one they intend to fight against America.

Moreover, the more Spain spends on Ukraine, the less it will allocate to protecting itself from its real strategic problem: our neighbor to the south, Morocco. But that is another story. And precisely for that reason, it is imperative that Trump forces a lasting peace agreement with Russia as soon as possible.