Ruminating out loud at a fundraiser the other day, US President Joe Biden expressed what is on many people’s minds: “We’re trying to figure out, what is Putin’s off-ramp? Where, where does he get off? Where does he find a way out?”
This question about Russian President Vladimir Putin is echoing through halls of power across the Western alliance — and across the whole world. Even Beijing and New Delhi do not want the Kremlin to go nuclear in its war against Ukraine. After all, even a so-called “limited” first strike by Putin could, as Biden warned, spin out of control and escalate to Armageddon.
The last time the world seriously contemplated this darkest of all scenarios was the Cuban missile crisis, exactly six decades ago. At that time, the leaders in Washington and Moscow did find an off-ramp, in the form of a secret deal that only came to light much later.
Illustration: Yusha
However, this crisis is different. For starters, Biden and Putin — unlike former US president John F. Kennedy and former Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev — appear not to be talking.
The assumption that motivates the Western search for an off-ramp is that Putin can no longer de-escalate by himself — by withdrawing from Ukraine or even conceding defeat — because he would lose power and maybe his life. Therefore he needs the West’s help, a sort of trap door to another narrative in which he could declare victory to his Russian home audience and politically survive.
Some experts, such as historian Timothy Snyder at Yale University, regard this Western obsession with supplying off-ramps for Putin as “deeply perverse.” Putin “does not need our help in the real world to craft reassuring fictions for Russians. He has been doing this for 20 years without our help” — by controlling Russian media and creating a virtual reality in which he always has an escape route.
Whenever things do not go his way, he just declares victory and changes the subject, and Russians pretend to believe him.
The counter-argument is that Putin might have lost control over the virtual reality he created. His army has been routed too embarrassingly on too many Ukrainian battlefields for his propaganda fictions to remain plausible. As a result, he has come under pressure not so much from Russian moderates or doves, but from even more radical hawks.
Cornered like a rat, at home more than abroad, Putin appears to see no options other than escalation. He mobilizes hundreds of thousands. He recklessly annexes four additional Ukrainian regions, then spreads his nuclear umbrella over them. He bombs Ukrainian civilians. He steps up sabotage and hybrid warfare inside NATO countries. The path he is on, the fear goes, could eventually lead him to nukes, unless he is given that off-ramp.
However, that reasoning highlights another difference between the Ukraine war and the Cuban missile crisis.
In 1962, the only antagonists that mattered were the two major nuclear powers, and the off-ramp consisted of a secret concession by one to the other. In return for the Soviet withdrawal of nukes from Cuba, the US would also remove its warheads from Turkey. Today, by contrast, all conceivable off-ramps would involve things that are not the US’ to give.
The US-led West would have to offer Putin something he has been demanding in his many otherworldly rantings over the past year. Most obviously, that would be Crimea or other Ukrainian territories he has seized.
However, only Kyiv can make such deals. After its heroic resistance, and its string of battlefield victories, it is understandably in no mood to do so. The West can hardly nudge Kyiv — by restraining arms shipments, for example — into a compromise that would amount to surrender. Luhansk, Donetsk, Zaporizhzhia and Kherson are not Biden’s to trade.
Any such off-ramp would amount to granting Putin actual victory and setting a disastrous precedent. By defending itself, Ukraine is also fighting for the principles of sovereignty, legitimacy, self-determination and democracy that are the foundation of the Western and international orders. If the West forfeits these principles, it rewards aggression, and specifically nuclear blackmail. Putin would start planning his next invasion, as would dictators elsewhere.
By the same logic, the off-ramp Biden seeks cannot take the form of a pledge by NATO to shrink or limit itself. Putin wants the alliance to withdraw forces from countries that used to be in the Soviet Union or the Warsaw Pact.
However, it is precisely these allies — especially Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and Poland — that feel most threatened by Putin. They are demanding more and stronger fortifications along their eastern front. For the same reasons, the Finns and Swedes want to join the alliance.
Any concession by NATO in this context would again amount to rewarding, rather than deterring, Putin’s aggression. Worse, it would cast doubt on NATO’s premise — Article 5 — that an attack on one is an attack on all, and that the alliance would defend every square inch of its territory.
Are there other off-ramps the West could provide? It is hard to see any. Dropping sanctions erected since Feb. 24 is not going to impress Putin or his domestic target audience. Even a “Finlandization” of Ukraine would not work — the West would still need to arm the country in case Putin attacks again in two years, and Russians therefore would not believe that Ukraine is actually neutral.
The depressing conclusion is that there might be no off-ramp to offer. Neither Biden nor anybody in the West deserves the blame for that. It is instead a consequence of Putin’s many disastrous miscalculations. He has been burning his ships, one by one, forgetting that he is no Hernan Cortez and the Ukrainians are not Aztecs.
It is always good to keep looking for off-ramps, in case any have been overlooked.
However, the reality is that we are back in the darkest scenarios of the Cold War, playing out game theory about prisoners’ dilemmas and chicken, and signaling threats of mutual assured destruction — MAD it is. That is Putin’s legacy.
Andreas Kluth is a Bloomberg Opinion columnist covering European politics. A former editor in chief of Handelsblatt Global and a writer for The Economist, he is author of Hannibal and Me. This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.
In the first year of his second term, US President Donald Trump continued to shake the foundations of the liberal international order to realize his “America first” policy. However, amid an atmosphere of uncertainty and unpredictability, the Trump administration brought some clarity to its policy toward Taiwan. As expected, bilateral trade emerged as a major priority for the new Trump administration. To secure a favorable trade deal with Taiwan, it adopted a two-pronged strategy: First, Trump accused Taiwan of “stealing” chip business from the US, indicating that if Taipei did not address Washington’s concerns in this strategic sector, it could revisit its Taiwan
The stocks of rare earth companies soared on Monday following news that the Trump administration had taken a 10 percent stake in Oklahoma mining and magnet company USA Rare Earth Inc. Such is the visible benefit enjoyed by the growing number of firms that count Uncle Sam as a shareholder. Yet recent events surrounding perhaps what is the most well-known state-picked champion, Intel Corp, exposed a major unseen cost of the federal government’s unprecedented intervention in private business: the distortion of capital markets that have underpinned US growth and innovation since its founding. Prior to Intel’s Jan. 22 call with analysts
The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) challenges and ignores the international rules-based order by violating Taiwanese airspace using a high-flying drone: This incident is a multi-layered challenge, including a lawfare challenge against the First Island Chain, the US, and the world. The People’s Liberation Army (PLA) defines lawfare as “controlling the enemy through the law or using the law to constrain the enemy.” Chen Yu-cheng (陳育正), an associate professor at the Graduate Institute of China Military Affairs Studies, at Taiwan’s Fu Hsing Kang College (National Defense University), argues the PLA uses lawfare to create a precedent and a new de facto legal
International debate on Taiwan is obsessed with “invasion countdowns,” framing the cross-strait crisis as a matter of military timetables and political opportunity. However, the seismic political tremors surrounding Central Military Commission (CMC) vice chairman Zhang Youxia (張又俠) suggested that Washington and Taipei are watching the wrong clock. Beijing is constrained not by a lack of capability, but by an acute fear of regime-threatening military failure. The reported sidelining of Zhang — a combat veteran in a largely unbloodied force and long-time loyalist of Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) — followed a year of purges within the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA)
RSS