Aye or och, no? Scotland decides, Rifkind waffles

Long since gone are the days when one could hope to read serious analysis in The Times.

The best one can expect nowadays is some intelligible thoughts, however wrong, shallow and ill-informed. Yet Hugo Rifkind consistently frustrates even such modest expectations.

The latest example is his article OK, I Admit it: the Yes Campaign Does Have a Point. That may be, but Hugo certainly doesn’t, at least none discernible to a mind uncorrupted by the same substances he must be on.

A piece of avuncular advice from an older man, Hugo: whatever it is, mate, stay off it for at least three hours before sitting down to write. That way you’d have a sporting chance of producing something other than utter gibberish.

It took me five minutes to read his piece and twice as long to figure out what it means. As far as I can tell, here’s the point Hugo seems to think the Yes campaign has.

The point is that there is no point, other than some red-hot emotions melting any ice-cold thought.

“In Scotland all the good arguments against independence are practical,” writes Hugo. By inference, all the bad ones are impractical, which is fair enough.

Having established this correct premise, any man in command of his mental faculties would proceed to argue why the good arguments are practical and the bad ones aren’t. Elementary logic would demand this.

Instead, Hugo admits, albeit grudgingly, that the good practical arguments may yet lose out to demagogic propaganda appealing to inflamed immature emotions.

His own demagoguery focuses on the obvious fact that the United Kingdom in general and England in particular are far from perfect.

One has to concede this point. Actually it’s so obvious it doesn’t have to be made: in this life we aren’t blessed with perfect systems.

This isn’t so much the truth as a truism. And it’s an irrelevant truism at that, unless of course someone can explain coherently exactly how an independent Scotland would correct all those little imperfections that so sadden Hugh.

To wit: “They look out and they see an ossified, unfair country, with food banks, an aloof elite…  And they don’t want to be a part of it,” writes Hugh.

Considering the amount of constitutional vandalism perpetrated in the last half-century, the first accusation is simply cloud-cuckoo land.

Ossified? The country has become unrecognisable in our, well, my, lifetime. In fact one wishes she had more backbone to resist the Walpurgisnacht perpetrated by Hugo’s intellectual kin. One may like the kaleidoscopic change or, like me, despise it. But in either case Britain is rather the opposite of ossified.

Unfair? That word has many meanings but the one in which I suspect Hugo (and the Yes voters) uses it involves the disparity of income between the rich and the poor, something that so far no country in history has managed to eliminate.

Again, I’m guessing here, but the remedy for this iniquity that he probably sees in his mind’s eye is increased social spending.

Now let’s see. Our Exchequer subsidises Scotland to the tune of £17.6 billion a year. That’s £3,300 for every Scot recognised as such by Alex Salmond. (This category includes recent Muslim immigrants living in Glasgow, but excludes Scots born and bred who happen to live in England.)

This is indeed unfair, as is spending billions on welfare in other parts of the United Kingdom. But those on the receiving end of this unfairness are people who work hard only to see half of what they earn extorted from them by a government that insists, among other awful things, on spending £3,300 a year per Scottish capita.

Out of interest, how will this unfairness be corrected if Scotland votes Aye? Every pronouncement by every Scottish chauvinist suggests that they want a straight socialist republic, with more rather than less welfare spending.

Where’s the money going to come from? I suppose this is one of those good practical arguments leaving Hugo and Alex cold.

And what, pray tell, is wrong with food banks? Would Hugo prefer to see people going hungry? Many in Scotland very well may be, if they succumb to Salmond’s mendacious propaganda.

Aloof elite? That’s what an elite always is, by definition. If it’s like everyone else it stops being an elite.

So what’s the argument there? That we shouldn’t have an elite? Then I’m sure Hugo can cite a few examples from the 5,000 years of recorded history of a place where none existed.

Allow me to illustrate this point with a hypothetical example. Let’s say a boy is born to a wealthy Scottish-Jewish family, with his father a Tory minister. He then goes to an expensive public school and Cambridge, after which, thanks to his family connections and despite a manifest lack of any ability, lands a job with a major newspaper.

He now clearly belongs to an elite, perhaps more than one. Can you forgive him for being ever so slightly aloof? I certainly can. Ever so slightly stupid would be a different matter, but that’s beside the point.

“We have a financial system,” continues Hugo, “that seems to move ever farther from accountability of any sort.” A good point but an irrelevant one – unless it can be shown that an independent Scotland would boast a sound and accountable financial system.

Alas, what can be shown is exactly the opposite: it’s clear that the economy of Salmond’s Scotland would be even more socialist, which is to say irresponsible and unaccountable, than that of the UK at large.

And then – are you ready for this? – comes the clincher. “We have half a parliament that isn’t elected,” laments Hugo.

This statement provides a ringing argument against expensive education: it’s money wasted if the youngster emerges so thoroughly ignorant of his country’s constitutional tradition.

Yes, Hugo, we still have an unelected House of Lords, a chamber you and your ilk would doubtless like to reduce entirely, as opposed to mostly, to acting as a stooge beholden to political diktat.

The whole point of our unique upper House is that it’s there to prevent, on the one hand, the tyranny of the monarch and, on the other hand, the dictatorship of the Commons.

That’s only achievable in an hereditary Lords, whose members don’t spend their whole lives currying favour with spivs like Tony, Dave, Ed or Nick. Hugo brags that he knows Britain well – this statement proves he doesn’t know it at all, and understands it even less.

So are these the good points that ‘the Yes campaign does have’? They aren’t points at all, never mind good ones.

But there is indeed a good point in favour of Scottish independence, in fact the only one I can think of: if it becomes a foreign country, perhaps we’ll be spared the insights of hacks like Rifkind.

 

 

Russia, the champion of international law

President Obama’s plan to bomb IS forces in Syria doesn’t meet with Russia’s approval.

The cynics and Russophobes among you might suggest that Russia feels that way because Syria’s president Assad is a client of long standing, and he’ll be upset to see Nato bombers diving on his territory.

If that’s how you feel, you’re grossly wrong. Russia opposes the bombing not out of narrow parochial considerations but because of her disinterested commitment to international law.

Here’s the statement issued to that effect by the Russian Foreign Ministry: “In the absence of an appropriate decision of the U.N. Security Council, such a step would become an act of aggression, a crude violation of the norms of international law.”

I for one am happy to see that Russia holds international law, and the UN as its guardian, in such high esteem. Among other things this reinforces the view gaining momentum in some conservative circles that Russia is a truly Christian nation.

For, after that organisation’s March vote on the annexation of Crimea, it takes an act of Christian forgiveness to defer to the UN as the ultimate authority on such matters, one whose rulings carry the moral weight of sheer goodness.

A lesser country than Russia would bear a grudge, for the UN General Assembly condemned the annexation,  by 100 to 11, with the rest abstaining. Apart from the former Soviet republics located a few hours from Russia by tank, her 11 allies included Cuba, North Korea, Sudan and Zimbabwe.

A great nation would hate to find itself in such company, but Russia displays not only Christian forgiveness but also Christian humility. Didn’t the book Col. Putin cherishes say “…whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also”?

Now that the good colonel has finally learned that Orthodox Christians cross themselves right to left, not left to right, as they do in those Italian films, he won’t deviate from the path of godly rectitude.

That’s what makes Russia’s pronouncements on international law so valuable. In our civilisation all law, even if ostensibly secular, has Christian antecedents. So who better than a newly pious KGB colonel to pass such judgement?

At least that’s what I think. Alas, not everyone is guided by the light emanating from the abridged Russian translation of the Bible. Some heathen secularists insist that anyone delivering himself of legal opinion must possess earthly qualifications.

How can a country acquire them? Obviously she can’t go to law school and pass the bar exam in order to qualify. Her legal credentials can only be verified by looking at how she’s rated by various international agencies.

In search of validation I looked at such ratings – only to find confirmation for the feeling deep-seated in the breast of most Russians: the whole world is against them. All those rating agencies collude to cast Russia in a bad light.

Judge for yourself. In the rule-of-law category Russia came in at Number 92, out of 97 countries rated. That’s one rung below Belarus but – a glorious achievement! – one above Nicaragua.

In terms of upholding fundamental rights, Russia’s rating was even higher: 82, one behind the UAE, where you can go to jail for a little hanky-panky outside marriage. One is prepared to rise and salute, but then one’s ardour is doused by the cold water of some other ratings.

Russia ranks a derisory 148th out of 179 on freedom of the press, which is widely regarded as a guarantor of legality. The Russophobes jeer, for that rating places Putin’s Russia below Bangladesh, Cambodia and Burundi.

Those haters of Russia refuse to look on the positive side: Putin’s bailiwick is still above, if not by much, Iraq and Gambia. If that’s not the crowning achievement of Putin’s reign, I don’t know what is.

Oh yes, I do. Russia, I’ll have you know, didn’t drop any lower than Number 127 on the corruption rating, where she finds herself in a nine-way tie with such bastions of legality as Pakistan and, again, Gambia.

Those Russophobes I mentioned earlier smirk and hiss “judge them by the company they keep”. They ignore the indisputable fact of the anti-Russian collusion hatched in the dark cellars of the CIA, MI6, EU, UN and quite possibly FIFA.

Since Russia has neither any intention nor any obvious way of changing her company, she has announced plans to change the judges. She will create her own ratings agency, for the time being in finance only.

This is a bit like a pupil marking his own school essays, but the idea does have merit. It should be extended to all of those categories where Russia’s sterling performance is ranked so artificially low.

What could be simpler? Russia should announce that henceforth she won’t be judged by the united Russophobes of the world. She will be her own judge, and the preliminary verdict says she’s the most scrupulously legal nation in the world – comfortably leading not just Gambia but also Obama’s own land.

Only then will the rest of the world heed Russia’s legal opinions with the deference they deserve. Meanwhile we quote another prescription from the book Putin probably keeps on his nightstand next to the biography of Felix Dzerzhinsky (whose birthday he doubtless celebrated yesterday):

“Judge not, and ye shall not be judged.”   

 

Père Lachaise: honouring and mocking at the same time

The other day I spent a leisurely afternoon strolling through Père Lachaise, the great Paris cemetery.

It may be the ghoul in me, but I like cemeteries in general and historical ones in particular. Or else it’s the historian in me: stones speak. Dead bodies bring history alive.

Here’s the tombstone of Chopin, erected by his friends who made sure it specified that ‘Fred’s’ father was French.

That reminded me of two Polish sisters who had once almost torn my head off for saying that very thing. They wouldn’t hear of the great Pole being ethnically impure and, since they were beautiful, I let them win the argument.

A brief course in French literature would be well illustrated by the graves of two friends Molière and La Fontaine who weren’t so much buried as reburied at Père Lachaise – along with many other luminaries from earlier centuries.

The cemetery was opened in 1804, and in those pre-laïcité days Parisians ignored it because it hadn’t been consecrated by the church. But the sly authorities proved themselves adept at marketing before the word was even invented.

They moved many famous graves of the past there, and suddenly Parisians were fighting for the privilege of lying next to them. Even Abelard and Héloïse, then dead for 650 years, unwittingly lent their remains to the promotion, and today more than a million bodies lie in rest at Père Lachaise.

Some of them are grouped together thematically. For example, several Napoleonic warriors lie side by side, regardless of how they met their end.

Marshal Ney, for example, was executed as a traitor. After Napoleon’s original exile, Ney swore an oath to the restored Bourbons. When Napoleon landed back in France on the first of his 100 days, Ney was put in command of the army sent to intercept the returning emperor and his handful of men.

The two forces met in a field near Auxerre. One look at his hero, however, and Ney fell into Napoleon’s arms – an emotional impulse for which he paid with his life after Waterloo.

Murat, Napoleon’s dashing cavalry commander, lies a few feet from Ney.

Napoleon made him King of Naples and after the emperor’s fall Murat’s ungrateful subjects put him in front of a firing squad. Both he and Ney commanded their own executioners, and the word ‘Feu!’ was the last the two courageous men uttered.

Also grouped together are the nameless graves of foreigners who died in the Resistance. One of them, for the Russians, is adorned with a sculpture of a resistance fighter toting two German machine pistols and wearing a British flying jacket.

The sculpture isn’t bad, and many others are excellent, including the magnificent 1968 Pietà on the grave of the publishing magnate Cino Del Duca. Without passing a comparative aesthetic judgement, it moved me as much as Michelangelo’s two sculptures on the same subject.

And so on, up and down the steep hills of Père Lachaise, back and forth in history – and some implicit ideological interpretations thereof.

Skirting the edge of the cemetery, I came across a long row of memorials dedicated to the 77,000 French Jews “betrayed by the Vichy government and murdered by Nazi barbarians”, as one inscription has it.

Each memorial commemorates victims murdered in a particular camp. One walks along the obelisks bearing diabolical names: Buchenwald, Auschwitz-Birkenau, Bergen-Belsen, Treblinka…

Suddenly a shock: interspersed with those are the graves of French communist chieftains Marcel Cachin, Maurice Thorez, Jacques Duclot, Georges Marchais and a few others.

The implicit message is that the victims and the communists belong together. They are supposed to have been on the same side.

That, to me, looked like a gruesome mockery of the dead. For the French Communist Party, led at the time by the first three chaps I mentioned, made a telling contribution to the atrocity.

From 23 August 1939 to 22 June 1941, Germany and the Soviet Union were close allies. Hence all communist parties belonging to the Comintern were on the side of the Nazis in every conflict between their own countries and Germany during this period.

The FCP was particularly subversive, spreading pacifist propaganda, demoralising the army and committing acts of sabotage against munitions factories.

When the Nazis attacked Poland on 1 September, 1939, they had to denude their western border, leaving not a single tank there. France, on the other hand, had 1,600 tanks poised at the border, and that’s even without counting the British Expeditionary Corps.

The Allies’ armour could have driven to Berlin unopposed, just as the Germans were getting bogged down at the Vistula. Then, 17 days later, the Soviets stuck a knife in Poland’s back. Hitler and Stalin triumphed.

The moment to avert the catastrophe – of which the subsequent murder of 77,000 French Jews was but a small part – was lost, partly because of the FCP’s efforts. These continued after Germany attacked France on 17 January, 1940.

The subjunctive mood being an unproductive grammatical category when applied to history, I don’t know if the French could have beaten back the German attack in the absence of communist subversion. Maybe, maybe not.

One thing for sure: the French fought with nowhere near the same determination as they had shown in the previous war. Thus, even if the FCP’s role in this demoralisation was small, the party bears at least some responsibility for France’s defeat and the ensuing tragedies.

When the Germans occupied Paris, Duclot asked the Nazis for permission to continue the publication of L’Humanité, the party’s newspaper. He pointed out, not unreasonably, that the newspaper had been supporting the Nazi cause unwaveringly, and the Germans couldn’t refute the arguments.

Nonetheless they turned the request down, possibly because they, unlike Duclot, knew that their friendship with Stalin wouldn’t last.

After Hitler narrowly beat Stalin to the punch on 22 June, 1941, the FCP instantly changed its principled stand. The party became active in the Resistance, fighting not only the Nazis but also, often, the non-communist resistance groups.

It wasn’t just a battle against Germany, but also one for France. The communists lost. Even though after the end of the war the FCP became the largest political party, it narrowly failed to move France from Nazi concentration camps into Soviet ones.

But not entirely: the camp at Drancy, whence French Jews had gone to their deaths in Nazi gas chambers, was seamlessly transformed into a Soviet camp from which Russian resistance fighters were forcibly sent to their deaths in the Soviet Union.

The FCP was complicit in this crime, as it facilitated the transfer of their yesterday’s comrades to the care of the NKVD. But at least the memorial to those Russians is some distance away from the graves of the NKVD’s French agents.

The Jewish victims of the FCP’s 1939-1941 allies aren’t so lucky. Sharing the same corner of Père Lachaise with the communists, they must be screaming out of their graves. I merely winced.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

Another shocking revelation about Diana

A new book about Prince Harry says things about his late mother that I found deeply disturbing.

Nil nisi bonum… and all that, but I was never a great admirer of that hysterical, manipulative and cunning woman. She was admittedly very good-looking, but then so was Eva Braun.

Unlike Eva Braun, however, Diana was also guilty of high treason, which is how our law classifies adultery committed by a royal consort. High treason, incidentally, is the only crime that our law says can still be punished by death.

A mere unsubstantiated suspicion of similar indiscretions cost Anne Boleyn her head, but I still doubt that Diana, even if charged and convicted, would have suffered a similar fate – even though the thought of it isn’t without some aesthetic appeal.

She didn’t, however, take lightly to her husband’s affair with Mrs Parker-Bowles, as Camilla then was – this even though dalliances by a present or future king aren’t considered treasonous under our law.

Apparently Diana kept ringing the rival for her husband’s affections in the middle of the night, when the transgressor was too befuddled by being woken up to mount any creditable defence.

“I’ve sent someone to kill you,” Diana would say. “They’re outside in the garden. Look out of the window; can you see them?”

Since no assassin(s) was/were indeed lurking outside Camilla’s window, the threat was as empty as Diana’s head.

Still, in some quarters such telephone calls may be treated as harassment and terroristic threats. The former could have earned Diana an injunction, to begin with; the latter a prison sentence.

Admittedly either punishment would have been minor compared to the decapitation merited by her extramarital shenanigans. Nevertheless I’m deeply shocked, and I don’t feel that way easily or often.

True enough, by itself the fact that a wronged wife attacks the wronging poacher telephonically was by itself insufficient to produce such a deep emotional response in me.

My own mother did something similar when she found out about my father’s affair. In her case, the investigative process was simplified by the fact that father had actually moved in with the other woman.

Mother wouldn’t take that lying down. She’d do a Diana by ringing the offending female every day and abusing her in the language I never realised my mother knew.

I found the contrast between her prim exterior and the foul jargon she was using quite amusing, and so did our 20 neighbours in the same communal Moscow flat.

The only phone in the flat was attached to the corridor wall, within easy access to all. No privacy was therefore possible, and when my mother embarked on yet another colourful description of what she’d like to do to the woman taken in adultery, all the neighbours would come out to listen and enjoy.

My mother was fairer than Diana though.

First, she launched her attacks in the evening, not in the middle of the night. The woman on the receiving end was thus fully alert and theoretically able to fight back. In practice she never did, silenced as she was by the thunderous vehemence of the invective.

Second, even though my mother was rather precise in her detailed accounts of the ballistically improbable practices she wished to perpetrate on the offender, the poetic descriptions lacked so much in plausibility that no court would have interpreted them as realistic threats.

On the other hand, Diana’s threat to send someone to murder Camilla was open to such an interpretation, for it was plainly realistic. A Princess of Wales, especially one as blessed with male admirers as Diana, could have coerced someone to do violence to Camilla or at least to threaten it credibly.

One way or the other, given my familial experience with telephone harassment, I was unlikely to be shocked by it, and I wasn’t.

What I found deeply distressing is that Diana, as reported, followed a singular antecedent (“I’ve sent someone to kill you”) with a plural personal pronoun (“they are outside”).

How could our would-be queen be so given either to grammatical solecisms or alternatively factual imprecision? How much better it would have been had she said “he’s outside” or, if she wished to impress Camilla with the breadth of her contacts, “I’ve sent some people to kill you, and they are outside…”

I’m sure Camilla would have been much happier then – and so would everyone else who, like me, is appalled at the inroads political correctness has made into the greatest language in God’s creation.

 

P.S. My current book, How the Future Worked, describes many experiences similar to the one I mentioned above. You can get it from Amazon or directly from the publisher, RoperPenberthy.    

 

 

 

 

 

Do the Scots know what they’re doing?

Now that one poll has returned a slender lead for the ‘Yes’ campaign, there’s much excitement on both sides of Hadrian’s Wall.

Suddenly the previously improbable seems possible, and everyone is asking pointed questions under the common umbrella of ‘what next?’.

If the Scots vote for independence, how will the assets and liabilities be split with the rest of the UK? Will they keep the pound? Will they default on their part of the national debt? Will they join the EU automatically or will they have to apply? What about Nato membership? The British submarine base at Faslane? Border controls? North Sea oil? Will they remain within the Commonwealth?

The most astounding thing about such questions is that they all get the same answer: no one knows.

One would think it the height of irresponsibility even to contemplate the break-up of the Union without first acquiring a fairly good idea of what this would entail.

After all, this isn’t like a marital separation, with the couple able to reunite if they decide after some time apart that they’re better off together.

A good friend of mine once left his wife for another woman and instructed his solicitor to start divorce proceedings. However, after the legal gentleman outlined the staggering cost of divorce, my friend instantly rediscovered affection for his jilted wife.

The original romantic impulse gave way to stark realism. “I don’t want to lose everything I’ve worked for,” he explained, with nary an amorous sentiment in sight. Fortunately my friend’s wronged wife took him back and he regained his house in the shires.

If there’s one thing everyone knows for sure it’s that there will be no such way back for the Scots. Once yielding to the romantic notion of independence, they’ll have to stick with it. No matter how much they suffer, they won’t get their house back.

So why are the Scots, who enjoy a reputation for fiscal, if no other, prudence, plunging headlong into a pool without first making sure there’s water in it?

Simple. Alex Salmond’s people are revolutionaries. As such, they display, mutatis mutandis, every common trait of all revolutionaries.

Prime among them is the urge to destroy. Though revolutionaries always talk about positive desiderata, deep down it’s not what they are about.

Thus Cromwell’s Roundheads were driven not so much by a craving for unencumbered parliamentarism as by hatred of traditional Western polity built on apostolic Christianity.

American Founders detested all the same things, which is why they portrayed George III, the least tyrannical king one could imagine, as a despot. In their fervour they ignored the inevitable consequences, such as the revolutionary war and its second act, the Civil War, in which the Americans suffered greater casualties than in all their previous and subsequent wars combined.

The French revolutionaries were also driven by zoological hatred rather than human love. Under their stewardship and the resultant Napoleonic madness, France suffered a catastrophe from which she still hasn’t recovered fully.

Lenin and his gang never even gave a thought to what they’d do with Russia after they took over. They wanted to destroy the empire, everything it stood for and, ideally, most people in it, an undertaking in which they succeeded famously. As a result, Russia’s population is today about a third of what a 1900 demographer would have confidently predicted.

Such is the law to which there are no known exceptions: all revolutions produce results unintended by the revolutionaries. The likelihood of such results turning out not just unexpected but opposite to the expectations is directly proportionate to the revolutionaries’ zeal.

Zeal is what Alex Salmond and his jolly friends have in abundance. What they lack is even a vague idea of how to keep an independent Scotland afloat.

Oh, to be sure, they aren’t short of the usual revolutionary cant promising a river flowing with milk and honey or, in this instance, whisky and oil.

The Scots will never again have to suffer Tory tyranny. Skipping the U, as in Union, they’ll create an SSR, the Scottish Socialist Republic: free education, free medicine, free care for the elderly, presumably free cask-strength Scotch, free of ‘immoral’ nuclear weapons.

Yet nothing in life is free. Someone has to pay for it all, such as our Exchequer, which has been putting a net £17 billion a year into Scotland. Who or what will take up the slack left by independence?

Other than talking about a petroleum pie in the sky, Salmond seems to think the EU will be happy to step in. Such happiness, however, isn’t in evidence, even though the EU is viscerally committed to endless expansion.

Yet EU officials can do the sums well enough to realise that adding another potential Greece or Portugal to their roster may finally scupper the whole harebrained project. Hardnosed economics has been known to wreak havoc on softheaded politics.

But this whole issue shouldn’t be reduced to pounds and pence, or euros and centimes, if you’d rather. For the issue has a destructive constitutional potential, and this is more serious than any economic hardships the Scots (or we) are likely to suffer.

The crowns of England and Scotland have been united for more than 400 years, and the governments for more than 300. This makes the Union’s constitution older than that of just about any country in the world, a consideration that alone should be sufficient to forget the whole independence issue like a bad dream.

English oppression of Scots is a mirage, as much a figment of revolutionary imagination as George III’s oppression of his American subjects. There is no substance to it, but there is an explanation: the wickedness of revolutionaries who are all prepared to lie for the cause.

Another common feature they share is the support, tacit or otherwise, they enjoy with the group Lenin aptly described as ‘useful idiots’.

For example, have you noticed how Dave is merely going through the motions of trying to preserve the Union? His heart isn’t in it and one can see why.

‘Useful idiots’ suffer from myopic vision. In this instance Dave doubtless feels that the Tories’ chance of winning an outright majority would improve in the absence of the 41 Scottish Labour MPs.

His electoral prospects could be further boosted by the £17-billion windfall that could be profitably used… no, not to bolster defence of the realm. Dave could use the money to bribe more voters, for what else could tax revenues be used for?

He and the villainous nonentity to whom Dave is the proud heir couldn’t care less about preserving our ancient constitution, as applied to Scotland or anything else.

It’s tempting to think that they too are driven by the same hatred that animates Alex Salmond. Yet one doubts they are capable of such strong emotions. Unvarnished spivery is more down their alley.

I do hope the Scots come to their senses in 10 days’ time. We’ll all lose out if they don’t.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Since what’s under way in Scotland now is an attempted revolution, the Scots would do well to consider the consequences.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Putin highlights English pundits’ moral and intellectual failings

Don’t ring for the men in white coats yet.

I haven’t suddenly fallen in love with Putin, and neither do I think he’s qualified to pass judgement on any serious matters.

What shows how deeply we’ve sunk into a hole isn’t anything Putin has said. It’s what he does and what he is. And specifically how we respond to what he does and what he is.

I know this parallel has been flogged to death, but the last time so many Westerners got things so cataclysmically wrong was in 1938.

Then well-meaning idiots talked about “a quarrel in a faraway country between people of whom we know nothing”.

Today’s ‘useful idiots’ are different from yesterday’s well-meaning ones. They don’t acknowledge ignorance – even those who make illiterate statements in every paragraph know it all.

That, however, is half the trouble, as the Russians put it. No one can be expected to be in full command of every fact, and people like Christopher Booker and Peter Hitchens certainly know enough to form a coherent opinion.

What spells trouble with a capital T is that their moral and intellectual premises are so staggeringly wrong.

Since both men get most other things right, one wonders why they talk wicked nonsense on this subject. Then again, many clever men were just as wrong in 1938.

I’ve commented on Hitchens’s Putinophilia often enough, and today he’s again talking about “the Kiev junta whose violent, lawless seizure of power we so stupidly backed last winter.”

Hitchens has been saying exactly the same thing for months now, and since he obviously has nothing to add to this gibberish, neither do I have anything to add to my earlier comments.

However, Booker’s article in yesterday’s Telegraph deserves a comment. After all, one seldom sees a piece that gets everything so wrong. Everything – every little thing.

In the lead paragraph Booker refers to Russia’s aggression against the Ukraine as “the civil war”. One is supposed to infer that one group of Ukrainians is fighting another, like the Americans did in the 19th century or our own Roundheads and Cavaliers in the 17th.

But surely anyone who has been following the events knows that most of the fight is carried to the Ukraine by units of the Russian army, such as the 76th Airborne Division?

That even the original Ukrainian ‘separatists’ were trained, armed and led by Russian officers? That their first commander, Igor Girkin-Strelkov, is a Russian Muscovite born and bred who has never even lived in the Ukraine? That Putin’s proxy troops include people from all over the former Soviet Union?

Pontificating out of ignorance is never commendable, but then of course there’s another possibility. Booker may ignore the facts he knows for the sake of indulging in ideological demagoguery. If so, that is a serious problem bespeaking a tragic character flaw.

If Booker can get so many things wrong in just two words, ‘civil war’, imagine the depth of the hole he can dig for himself in a longish paragraph. To wit:

“It cannot be said often enough that what triggered the crisis was not Mr Putin’s desire to restore the boundaries of the Soviet Union, but the ludicrously misguided ambition of the West to see Ukraine absorbed into the EU and Nato. There was never any way that either Mr Putin or all those Russian speakers in eastern Ukraine and Crimea were going to take kindly to seeing the country which was the cradle of Russian identity become part of a Western power bloc. Russia would be even less happy to see the only warm-water ports for its navy taken over by a military alliance that had been set up to counter Russia in the first place.”

A reader of mine expressed a similar thought more crudely by referring to Putin’s “pacifist statesmanship” which is “in stark contrast to the degenerate warmongers in Washington, Brussels, Kiev and NATO.”

The foray into the Ukraine is the third war Putin has started in less than 10 years, Chechnya and Georgia being his previous victims. That’s pretty good going for a pacifist, and one can only guess what kind of mayhem he’d wreak if he were bellicose.

As to ‘degenerate warmongers’, that’s exactly how Hitler described England and France in 1938, just as they were desperately trying to appease him. (That tired old parallel again, it simply won’t go away.)

But at least my reader chose private correspondence as his medium. Booker, on the other hand, went public, which was a mistake.

Chaps, the Ukraine is an independent European country of 45 million souls. She hasn’t been independent, or indeed unified, for long, and neither did she have long spells of independence and unity throughout her history.

Yet the same can be said about many other countries in the world, and certainly in Europe. Remember the seven lands that used to add up to Yugoslavia? Fourteen out of 15 Soviet republics? Most African countries? Quite a few Asian ones?

We may snigger at their present status, but few of us would regard it as casus belli. What matters is that those former provinces of larger entities are now sovereign countries.

Not all of them are nice. Not every one of the governments was elected fairly if at all. Yet, unless they threaten us or our allies, none of this is our business. As sovereign countries, they can run their affairs as they see fit.

I despise the EU, and distrust Nato, every bit as strongly as Messrs Hitchens, Booker et al. Nonetheless a sovereign nation’s desire to join either organisation or both doesn’t give its more powerful neighbour any legal or moral right to launch an aggression. The Ukraine provoked Putin’s aggression in the same sense in which a man wearing a bespoke suit provokes a mugger.

It’s a gross fallacy to regard only a universal democratic vote as a legitimising factor of a nation’s founding. How many Americans voted for independence in 1776? How many Germans voted for unification in 1871?

Does Hitchens talk about the American junta or the German one? Does Booker, along with other democracy mongers, feel the two regimes are illegitimate? Then why do they describe the overthrow of the petty criminal and Putin’s puppet in such terms?

In his democratic fervour Booker actually goes so far as hailing the “96 per cent of Crimeans [who] democratically voted in March to join Russia.”

He probably doesn’t know that the indigenous Tartar population boycotted the referendum, that the option to preserve the status quo wasn’t on the table, that the actual turnout was closer to 30-40% than to the 83% claimed, or that every poll conducted over the last three years showed only a 34% support for reunification with Russia.

These facts may have slipped his attention. But surely a lifelong political commentator should smell a rat when any proposition polls 96%, especially in a place occupied by foreign troops? Apparently not. Ideology can override the olfactory sense.

Neither is the Ukraine ‘the cradle of Russian identity’. Kievan Rus was founded and run by Scandinavian conquerors, and neither Russia nor especially the Ukraine was even a twinkle in their eye.

True enough, the statue to Grand Duke Vladimir erected by Ukrainians in Holland Park identifies him as “ruler of Ukraine”, but this is another example of ideology trumping facts. The word ‘Ukraine’ was never even mentioned in history until half a millennium after Vladimir’s death (1015).

As to the possibility of Nato taking over the Russian naval base at Sebastopol, this is a figment of Booker’s inflamed imagination. The Russians maintained a long-term lease on the base, and no Ukrainian government, Nato or no Nato, would have cancelled it – any more than Cuba can cancel the American lease on the Guantanamo base.

When otherwise intelligent people start uttering ignorant drivel, one should examine not their minds but their psychology. Though this isn’t my field, I can recommend the services of my psychiatrist friend. He’ll be glad to help.

Lies, damned lies and UN statistics on sexual violence

As a credulous sort, I’m prepared to believe anything people tell me: the cheque is in the post, Islam is a religion of peace, Damien Hirst is an artist – you name it.

So much more the reason for me to accept as gospel the results of the latest UN study on sexual violence.

The greatest survey of its kind ever undertaken, it covered 190 countries, which by my calculations means more or less all of them.

This is yet another reason to accept the findings without demurring – if UNICEF, which we know is a force for good, as are all international agencies without exception, goes to such trouble, surely they wouldn’t release any slipshod data to an eagerly awaiting world.

The findings, one must admit, do stretch one’s credulity, but not quite to breaking point. The study says that at least one out of 10 women have been sexually assaulted by the time they turn 20.

That’s quite a lot. I recall all the women I know or have even known, trying to figure out which of them found themselves in the unfortunate percentile. One out of 10?

Hard to believe, that, but then this is just one man’s experience. I’ve never visited more than 20 countries, never mind the 190 scrutinised by UNICEF. They are the experts, and a credulous sort like me must take them at their word.

Unfortunately, not everyone is as easy-going as I am. Some people – including, I’m mortified to admit, my friends – may have doubts. They may ask awkward questions, an annoying tendency that UNICEF dignitaries do little to discourage.

Quite the contrary, those doubting Thomases may regard as positively encouraging the comment proffered by UNICEF Executive Director Anthony Lake.

Sexual violence, he said, “cuts across boundaries of age, geography, religion, ethnicity and income brackets”.

Presumably this means that the swath thus cut is of equal width and depth everywhere. It has to be, for otherwise such an important man could be accused of uttering meaningless drivel.

For if the swath width varies from, say, one in a 1,000 in one place to 65 in a 100 in another, then Mr Lake’s statement is idiotic or else deliberately deceptive. Naturally, any decent man must reject either possibility indignantly.

So fine. I’m prepared to believe that a middleclass, middle-aged American churchgoer or a demographically similar Israeli Hassid is as likely as a Somali Muslim or a Jamaican pagan to force his attentions on a prepubescent girl.

Even more likely actually: an earlier UNICEF study points an accusing finger at Americans, who seem to be inveterate rapists far in excess of the global average.

It was found out in 2011 that 35 per cent of adolescent American girls and 20 per cent of adolescent boys reported suffering some form of sexual violence during their lives.

Now I’m really worried, especially since one can confidently predict that a future study will show that every woman in the world has been raped at least once. (Does a gang rape count as one or should it be multiplied by the number of assailants? I’ll ask UNICEF and get back to you on that one.)

I have family in America, including grandchildren, both female and male. None of them is anywhere near 20, so they’d better move somewhere safe before they reach that cut-off point. Perhaps Africa or Latin America.

Oops, that may not be such a good idea after all. Reading the report’s small print, one finds a coy admission that sexual violence appears to be particularly prevalent in such countries as the Congo, Uganda, Tanzania, Zimbabwe, Venezuela, Panama, Brazil and Colombia, “though by no means limited to them”.

A doubting Thomas’s antennae would be twitching now, and he would again be forced to play the numbers game. What does this mean? One in 10,000 in Canada versus 99 in a 100 in Columbia? The naysayer is clamouring for a geographic and demographic breakdown, but none is forthcoming.

Moreover, according to the report at least a third of the sex without permission is perpetrated by the victim’s husband or cohabitor.

(The report actually uses the word ‘partner’, but I have problems with it. Partners don’t do sexual assault, in my experience. During my business life I had at least a dozen of them, and not one ever tried to rape me. Either they were undersexed, or I’m singularly unattractive.)

Another close look fails to detect any distinction drawn between various types of sexual violence. The lifelong champion of political correctness in me rejoices: pinching a girl’s bottom on a bus and raping her at knifepoint in a park are equally criminal in today’s ethos.

It’s the naysayers I’m worried about, those reactionaries who insist that the definition of sexual assault in general and rape in particular has become rather loose. It includes, for example, a woman asking her husband to withdraw in mid-stroke and him neglecting to do so.

According to not just the ethos but also the law, the husband is a rapist. As such, he falls into the same rubric as a knife-wielding degenerate assaulting a girl at a bus stop.

As I’ve been saying, I have no problems with any of this. It’s just that I know many people who might.

 

The Torygraph gloating at the suicide of the Tory party – how very confusing

Not so long ago the spectrum of our mainstream press shone brightly enough to be clearly visible.

The Mail stood for the Thatcher brand of oxymoronic conservative radicalism, with a slight American accent overlaid on its lower-middleclass lilt.

The Telegraph enunciated the traditional God, king and country Toryism, and its accent was born in top public schools, only to be flattened out in later life.

The Times was a residually Tory paper, however one whose allegiance was not so much to the Tory philosophy as to the Tory party. Speaking in the accents of minor public schools, it would vote for Fidel Castro, if only he agreed to sport a blue rosette.

The Independent belied its name by being a committed Labour, which is to say socialist, paper. It was nostalgic for the 1970s, when Britain was ‘the sick man of Europe’. The paper’s accent was similar to that of The Times, but straining to move into the phonetic area signposted by glottal stops and dropped aitches.

The Guardian was The Independent with cultural pretensions. Hence no glottal stops or dropped aitches. No commitment specifically to socialism either – the paper was ready to tout any ideology hostile to what Tony Blair called ‘the forces of conservatism’, which is to say traditional England.

Then the world went topsy-turvy: Labour under Tony and later the Tories under Dave converged in the middle.

This convergence went by the name of modernisation, which, in common with most words in the modern political lexicon, meant something other than what its name suggests.

As wielded by Tony and ‘the heir to Blair’ Dave, the word really stands for replacing the two parties’ core principles with unadulterated powerlust.

Labour ‘modernisers’ were prepared to compromise their socialist superstitions for the sake of acquiring power. Tory ‘modernisers’ worshiped the same deity and hence were ready to sacrifice their party’s erstwhile convictions at the same altar.

However, Tony and later Dave didn’t have a free ride.

The parties’ leaders were ready to devour their principles, but the principles proved too big to swallow whole. Their leftovers survived at the grassroots and on the back benches – and they began to bite back.

As a result, Tony’s ‘New Labour’ was supplanted by Miliband’s old-fashioned Marxists in hock to the unions.

But Marxism, which is to say the urgent desire to destroy the West, had never disappeared from the modern Labour party. Tony had just dressed it up to look good to the country.

That’s why Labour’s reversion to radical socialism hasn’t destroyed the party’s unity any more than changing from a blazer into a T-shirt would destroy a man.

The Labour cause was bolstered by Zeitgeist, the spirit emanating from Britain’s largely corrupted populace. The country seems to have reached the critical mass of corruption, with sufficient numbers dependent on a socialist state ready to vote Labour as an election-swinging bloc.

The Tory party, on the other hand, has chucked its heritage altogether, with the ardour of a neophyte.

Under Dave’s subversive leadership, people with traditional Tory views have lost their pride of place within the Tory party.

Unlike old-fashioned Marxists who still sit at the left elbow of the leader, old-fashioned conservatives, those unwilling to betray everything they hold dear, have to get up and leave.

Hence the rapid rise of Ukip, a party positioning itself as a haven for real conservatives betrayed by the Tories. After the recent defection of Tory MP Douglas Carswell, Ukip is about to become a parliamentary party, and it’s certain to acquire a few more MPs in the next election.

Hence also the brewing insurgency on the Tory back benches, where some 100 younger MPs don’t really believe that homosexual marriage is as good as any other, or that Britain would be better off as a province of the EU.

Unlike the purely tactical divergences between the socialists and the ‘modernisers’ within Labour ranks, the fundamental conflict among the real and ‘modernising’ Tories is tearing the party apart – to a point where it’s likely to lose the next election.

This on-going game of musical chairs has confused the papers on the right of the political spectrum. They no longer know whom – or what – to support.

The Times, which has for years put party allegiance before any principles, seems to be convinced that the Tories must become like Labour if they want to win an election in the name of conservatism.

To that end the paper is running the kind of stories that 20 years ago Guardian editors would have spiked for being too leftwing. The Times has left its cherished centrist position to become downright sinister – or gauche, if you’d rather (notice how foreign words for ‘left’ all have pejorative connotations in English).

The Mail sympathises with Ukip, and only its well-justified dread of the catastrophe, which the Milibandits will surely wreak when in power, prevents the paper from endorsing Nigel Farage in so many words.

That leaves The Telegraph, and it’s hard not to feel its pain. Caught between the Scylla of Tory ‘modernisation’ and the Charybdis of its traditionally conservative readership, the paper is trying to feed both animals, leaving both hungry.

This explains the presence of someone like Dan Hodges among its columnists. The son of Glenda Jackson, Britain’s answer to ‘Hanoi’ Jane Fonda, Hodges vindicates the old proverb about an apple and the tree.

In a recent article this career Labour apparatchik bemoans the less than dominant position of Tory ‘modernisers’, positively gloating about the impending demise of the party.

“Who are the Tory equivalents [of Labour ‘modernisers’]?” he asks. “The people who understand that 21st century Conservatism cannot be built upon isolationism, Fifties-style social puritanism and reheated Thatcherism? …Where are the articles… arguing not that Carswell is an electoral and tactical nuisance, but that he and his Ukip colleagues are fundamentally, ideologically wrong?”

“There is still hope for the Left,” rejoices The Telegraph through Hodges. Indeed there is. I’m less sure there’s hope for England.

Carswell ‘and his Ukip colleagues’ are real conservatives, something that’s anathema to Hodges and Dave, who openly admits that Glenda’s boy is his favourite columnist.

That’s the Tory PM openly admiring a professional and not very bright leftie, on the staff of a traditionally Tory newspaper. No wonder I’m confused and disgusted at the same time.

 

 

Beheadings in Iraq: consider the source

Religion of peace is getting ever so slightly out of hand, wouldn’t you say?

Suddenly a seditious question crosses one’s mind: can it be that perhaps Islam does have something to do with IS monstrosity, if only a teensy-weensy bit?

No, surely not. In the aftermath of the twin towers collapsing, George W. Bush explained that Islam isn’t to blame for anything Muslims do, even if they claim to be acting in the name of Allah.

One wonders. We don’t see many Buddhists lunching on human organs, nor many Confucians engaged in terrorism and general mayhem all over the world, attacking anyone within close proximity.

Neither do many Christians publicly behead journalists, this in spite of the severe provocation provided by the entire editorial staffs of The Guardian, The Independent, The Times and the BBC.  

Sorry about sounding facetious about this, but my first editor all those years ago taught me not to rant, instead using irony as a defence mechanism.

Such self-restraint isn’t easy in the face of the monumental stupidity, cowardice and moral corruption happily co-existing within the breast of our leaders.

It’s thanks to this confluence of character traits that they refuse to acknowledge the obvious. Those IS animals, including the now famous product of our comprehensive education, wouldn’t be committing their midnight horrors on such a scale if they were Buddhists, Confucians or Christians.

They commit them because they are Muslims. Unless we realise this, and act accordingly, things will get much worse and we’ll find ourselves on the receiving end – yet again.

The copout so beloved of our spivocratic leaders, that only a minority of Muslims cut off people’s heads, doesn’t wash.

Only a minority of Dresden dwellers were SS murderers, yet that fact didn’t queer the aim of US and British bombardiers. The Soviet communist party had a total membership of under 10 per cent of the population, yet this didn’t deter us from training nuclear missiles on Soviet cities.

Violence on a massive scale is always initiated by a radical elite, the red-hot end of a largely inert mass. The rest follow half-heartedly or at least acquiesce, until they too get into the spirit and become indistinguishable from the elite in their murderous ardour.

These aren’t theoretical abstractions. They are premises for a coherent strategy executed by appropriate tactics.

When the first American journalist was decapitated on camera, President Obama said “We don’t have a strategy yet” and went off to work on his golf swing.

When the second American pundit lost his head, Obama didn’t say anything. Our own Dave wasn’t particularly forthcoming either – he was too busy fuming about Israel’s ‘deplorable’ occupation of an area roughly equal in size to the parks between London’s Westminster and Kensington.

By all accounts our great leaders are busily working behind the scenes in an effort to put together an ad hoc anti-IS coalition, including the Saudis, the Jordanians, the Kurds and anyone else willing to join.

As far as I know, neither the IRA nor the Tamil Tigers have been asked. They must feel terribly left out, wondering where they’ve gone wrong.

It has to be said that Dubya and Tony were considerably more decisive back in 2003, when committing US and British troops in the Middle East. It was thanks to them that democracy came to Iraq, though it has since left.

The vacuum thus formed was filled by Islamic terror, now threatening to engulf our countries as well. Yet God forbid we should act decisively and unilaterally to stamp out those IS thugs like cockroaches – we only ever go in when we shouldn’t, when doing so is guaranteed to set the world aflame.

A rapid unilateral offensive might look as if it’s us against them, the post-Christian West against the Islamic East. How multi-culti would that be? Not very. Certainly not enough to mollify The Guardian, The Independent, The Times – and, I hope you’re getting up to salute, the BBC.

Turn those chaps against you, and you can kiss the next election good-bye, Dave has no doubts on that score. Nor is Obama in much doubt on the electoral prospects of the Democrats should the TV networks, The New York Times and The Washington Post fall out of love with them, however temporarily.

Hence the urgent need to form a coalition with Muslim wolves, on this occasion donning synthetic sheep’s clothing. Look, we’ve got the Kurds on our side, they are Muslims, so who are you calling anti-Islamic bigots, Mr Voter?

This is all terribly wrong. The proper way for our countries to act is to straighten out the mess of our own creation.

It’s thanks to our own criminal stupidity that Islam has entered an impassioned phase, a development kept in check prior to that by the secular thugs we’ve removed. The region and the religion are now on fire, and only fire can put it out.

Rewind the clock back 100-odd years and ask yourself this question: How would Britain and the USA have responded then to public murders of Englishmen and Americans in Islamic lands?

How likely would those prime ministers and presidents have been to ponder whether or not it was justified to hold a wide group responsible for the crimes committed by a few of its members?

The question contains the answer. They would have hit the whole region with all they had, laying about them with rather indiscriminate violence and without giving a second thought to extraneous considerations. No one murdered Englishmen or Americans and got away with it.

In 1904, when the Moroccan brigand Raisuni kidnapped a Greek-American named Perdicaris, President Theodore Roosevelt (also involved in an election campaign at the time) immediately sent a squadron of warships to Morocco.

The ships levelled their guns on Rabat and flew the signal “Perdicaris Alive or Raisuli Dead!” No poll was conducted to determine the proportion of the Rabat population sympathetic to Raisuli or complicit in his crimes.

How far should the West go to protect its citizens and allies against Islamic barbarism? There’s only one geopolitically viable or indeed moral answer to this question: as far as it takes, and never mind multi-culti rectitude.

Yet we in the West have lost the knack for providing such answers. Nor do we realise any longer that those who won’t fight for their civilisation don’t deserve to keep it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is Finland next?

Col. Putin is a tragically misunderstood figure, not least by me.

There I was, thinking that the good colonel is desperate to rebuild the Soviet Union, whose demise he once described as “the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the 20th century”.

How wrong I was! A reader has kindly sent me an excerpt from an interview given to the Swedish paper Svenska Dagbladet by Putin’s former economic advisor Andrei Illarionov.

According to Mr (formerly Comrade) Illarionov, who should know, Putin couldn’t care less about the Soviet Union and the reconstruction thereof.

Granted, he does think that Khrushchev was criminally negligent when gerrymandering the Crimea out of Russia and into the Ukraine.

But Vlad has neither any quarrel with Nikita nor any desire to correct his mistakes. It’s Lenin’s dismemberment of the Russian Empire that gives Putin sleepless nights.

According to Illarionov, the good colonel sees himself not so much as another Stalin as a harder version of Nicholas II, a sort of Nicholas I Lite.

This ambition explains his constant references to Russia’s glorious imperial past, admittedly viewed in a different light by just about every other part of the Empire. Putin’s professed piety, even if it postdates his political elevation, also fits in nicely with such cravings.

More and more, the phrase ‘Third Rome’ crops up in the colonel’s speeches, and he no doubt fancies himself as the next emperor of Holy Russia. One must admit that Emperor Vladimir I has a better ring to it than KGB Colonel Putin.

As part of his ambition to bring the Empire back to life, Putin intends to reclaim the Ukraine, this goes without saying.

But there was more to that great commonwealth than just the Ukraine. The Russian Empire also included, among others, the three Baltic states, Georgia, Belarus – and Finland.

Since Col. Putin is nothing if not consistent, Illarionov claims that these countries are next on his list of conquests.

“None of the listed territories are NATO states,” comments The Guardian, “and some analysts suggest that this makes them ripe for Russia’s picking. As countries like the United States and the United Kingdom are only likely to become militarily involved if Russia is to attack a NATO nation, it appears unlikely as of now that any significant deterrents are blocking Putin from invading as he pleases.”

The comment raises an interesting question: is it Illarionov who is ignorant, or is it The Guardian? For the three Baltic states are definitely NATO members, and the charter of that organisation stipulates that an attack on one member constitutes an attack on all.

Yesterday Putin kindly informed the world that, if such were his wish, he could take Kiev in a fortnight. In response, NATO is deploying a formidable 5,000-strong force, spearheaded by Britain.

Not being an expert strategist, I wouldn’t venture a guess on how much this regiment (that’s what 5,000 soldiers add up to) would slow down the several armoured divisions Putin could deploy on short notice. Let’s just say the delay wouldn’t be unduly long.

Yet, if history is anything to go by, once such a conquest has been achieved the fun is merely beginning.

Soviet troops retook the Ukraine from the Germans in 1944, or rather liberated it, as the official term had it. Amazingly, not all Ukrainians welcomed the liberation.

In fact, many sought another liberation: from the liberators. To that end the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA) continued to fight guerrilla warfare against the Russians throughout the ‘50s – for more than a decade after the end of the war.

Most of the fighters, including their leader Roman Shukhevych, were eventually killed by the NKVD, but not before taking thousands of Russians with them, including one of the top Soviet generals Nikolai Vatutin.

All that drama was unfolding in conditions that were considerably less favourable to the Ukrainians than they are at present. One can confidently predict that, now that they’ve tasted independent statehood, the Ukrainians will exact a heavier toll on the Russians than they did in the ‘50s.

Can the Russians afford to pay it? Obviously Putin has his doubts, for otherwise he would have pushed the button for the magic fortnight already.

As to Putin’s desire to reincorporate Finland into the Russian Empire, it lacks novelty appeal. Stalin already attempted it in the winter of 1939-1940.

Then too his generals were promising a decisive victory within a week, two at the most. After all, they had a 100 to one superiority in tanks, not to mention every other conceivable rubric.

Stalin magnanimously let them take a month, after which all of Finland would again belong to Russia. Instead the war took four months and cost the Russians half a million dead (against 20,000 Finns).

They succeeded in grabbing merely 11 per cent of Finland’s territory, but lost something much more significant. Instead of having as its neighbour a neutral, if generally disgruntled, Finland, Stalin got an implacable enemy.

Finland declared war on the Soviet Union on 25 June, 1941, three days after the German attack. It was largely thanks to the Finnish troops that the Germans managed to close the loop of siege around Leningrad, which ended up costing the city 1.5 million lives.

Talk to the Finns today, and you’ll get the impression they don’t exactly suffer from historical amnesia. They will fight the Russians as desperately (and expertly) today as they did in 1939.

In those days most of the world took Finland’s side. Russia was summarily expelled from the League of Nations, becoming a pariah state allied with Nazi Germany. Who will be her allies if Putin issues marching orders tomorrow?

It probably doesn’t matter very much whether or not a target of Putin’s potential offensive belongs to NATO. Neither the Ukraine nor Finland belonged to any such alliance way back then, which didn’t prevent them from bloodying Russia severely.

Hence, even if NATO proves to be as craven and impotent as I suspect it will, Putin won’t enjoy a free ride.

It took the Russians 10 years to shed 15,000 soldiers’ lives and get out of Afghanistan, tail between their legs. The demise of the Soviet Union may have been hastened by that adventure – and, between you and me, the West didn’t even care about Afghanistan all that much.

The same won’t be the case with Finland or for that matter Poland, which was also part of the Russian Empire. Russia will find herself in total isolation, never a good place to be even in the absence of a military conflict.

All things considered, Putin would be well-advised to put his imperial ambitions on hold. Vladimir the First won’t last.