The “Russian World” and Donald Trump

Why did Vladimir Putin invade Ukraine? After more than 300 years in the Russian sphere of influence, first as a de facto colony and then an integral part of the Soviet Union—its breadbasket and industrial heartland—Ukraine wants out. It wants to leave the Russian orbit for the West, fully embrace Western capitalism and democracy, and join Western alliances—NATO and the European Union—as soon as possible.

Nearby Georgia and Moldova are also chaffing against a long history of Russian subjugation. Like Ukraine, both are former socialist republics on the underbelly of the Russian colossus and until recently, both have been advancing toward EU membership. Popular opinion in both countries strongly favors joining the West. And it’s no accident that Putin and his proxies have done everything possible to block and skew their recent democratic elections.

In Moldova, where pre-election polls showed nearly two-thirds of voters in favor of EU membership, a network of Kremlin surrogates, including criminal groups and a pro-Russian oligarch, poured money into the country to interfere with electoral procedures and bribe voters. An estimated $100 million of walking-around cash goes a long way in a nation of just 3 million, and the upshot was a virtual tie in the nationwide referendum on joining the EU: 50.4 percent for joining to 49.6 percent against—hardly the decisive outpouring Moldovan president Maia Sandu was hoping for.

In Georgia, where a full 79 percent once expressed support for joining the EU, Russian proxies fanned out this fall to disrupt parliamentary elections. Handheld videos taken on the day of the vote show ruffians stuffing ballot boxes and assaulting election officials. International observers reported harassment at polling places, widespread bribery, and open pressure on voters who hold government jobs or depend on social benefits. The upshot: the pro-Russia ruling party, Georgian Dream, claimed a 54 percent majority—enough for it to oppose EU membership and maintain a so-called “neutral” stance between East and West.

There’s no mystery why the Kremlin intervened in Georgia and Moldova. As in Ukraine, Putin grasps that what he calls the Russkiy Mir—the “Russian world,” or centuries-old Russian sphere of influence—is under threat. The empire is at risk of crumbling—and not just in Ukraine, Georgia, and Moldova.

Central Asia, traditionally much less likely to question Moscow’s influence than Russian-dominated regions to the west, is also beginning to stir. Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan remain largely supportive of Russian foreign policy, including the invasion of Ukraine. But government officials and civilians in both former Soviet republics are rejecting the Russian language and the traditional Russia-centric understanding of their national histories. Kazakh authorities have declassified a vast archive of material documenting Joseph Stalin’s crimes in their countries, and authorities in Tajikistan are complaining about recent Russian violations of Tajik human rights.

The more restless these former Soviet republics grow, the more agitated the Kremlin becomes. Putin’s insight, understood by his predecessors—the czars and the Soviets—and other imperial rulers throughout history, is that empires are rarely stable in size and influence. They must shrink or grow, and Putin has no intention of seeing the Russian sphere wither any further on his watch.

Putin’s response to perceived threats, whether in the Russkiy Mir or on its perimeter, is aggression, and he is growing ever more desperate. As a wounded bear is more belligerent, frantic, and reckless than a healthy animal, so a threatened Russian empire is increasingly rash and careless in forging dangerous alliances and threatening its neighbors.

Why else would Putin be making nice to unstable, uncontrollable allies like North Korea, which recently sent an estimated 12,000 troops to bolster Russian forces in Ukraine? And why else would he be sowing mayhem across Western Europe—an escalating barrage of disinformation, sabotage, and cyber-attacks?

In the last year alone, Western intelligence officials say, Russia and Russian proxies were responsible for hostile surveillance of a military transshipment hub in Poland and an airport in Stockholm; arson attacks on a Warsaw shopping mall, a German weapons factory, and a Ukrainian-owned logistics firm in London; a foiled plot to sabotage a military installation in Germany and a conspiracy to assassinate the CEO of a German arms manufacturer, among other illegal acts.

In all these cases—from Tbilisi to London to Stockholm—Putin is driven by fear and desperation. His aggression isn’t strength—it’s a tyrant’s flailing reaction to a restless empire.

What is America to do? We should modernize our military, strengthen NATO, and expand civilian efforts to bolster democracy in countries like Georgia and Moldova. One place to start would be in Ukraine, giving Kyiv the tools not just to defend itself and “degrade” the Russian military but to achieve something it can call victory and humiliate Putin.

The Biden administration has been unwilling to go that far, despite pleas from European allies increasingly alarmed by the Russian threat, and it’s unclear what Kamala Harris might do.

Donald Trump favors the opposite course. When Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022, he called the move a “savvy” stroke of “genius.” As Bob Woodward has revealed, Trump and Putin have spoken at least a half-dozen times since Trump left the White House. Trump’s campaign wingman Elon Musk has also been in regular contact with the Kremlin since it invaded Ukraine. And everything Trump says suggests he would cozy up to Putin—for example, muscling Ukraine to renounce NATO membership—even when it runs counter to American interests.

Trump and his entourage have worked hard to convince MAGA voters that Putin is not a threat. When Trump ally Tucker Carlson traveled to Moscow this year, he came away raving about the clean streets and abundant supermarkets. “It’s so much nicer than any city in my country,” he gushed. A few months later, Trump enablers Donald Trump Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy Jr. mocked Kamala Harris for believing that Putin’s expansionist impulses posed a threat to Western Europe. “Surely she must know how absurd that is,” they wrote in an op-ed.

But most Americans know better. According to a July 2024 Pew Research Center survey, 86 percent of Americans hold an “unfavorable” view of Russia, with most of them—57 percent of the total—expressing a “very unfavorable” view. That’s a smaller share than in some stalwart European countries such as Poland, Sweden, and the Netherlands. But it’s just about on par with the United Kingdom and more skeptical than the Germans or the French.

Will this understanding determine what Americans do in the voting booth? Probably not, at least not in large numbers—foreign policy rarely does.

But most Americans seem to understand that Trump and the America First crowd couldn’t be more wrong about the Kremlin. Kowtowing to Putin only encourages more aggression. As restless neighbors challenge the empire—and they will continue to test it—Putin will continue to menace them, setting an example for other expansionist tyrants. The only question is how the next president of the United States will respond.