THE FALSE FLAG FACADE

Recently Western media outlets have adamantly suggested that Russia plans to employ a "false flag" operation intended as an excuse to invade Ukraine, which is now almost entirely encircled by upward of 190,000 of its troops ready to attack. To the uninitiated and for current purposes, a "false flag" event or action (typically political or military in nature) intentionally organized against Russian interests and made to appear as having been perpetrated by opposing forces or terrorists, would give President Vladimir Putin a pretext for military action. Indicators have been that the Russian media has already been laying the groundwork for such a move by trying to convince its public that Ukrainian forces are ready to attack in East Ukraine, the "Donbas," an unrecognized pro-Russian breakaway region, largely controlled by Russian-backed separatist militia units. To raise the stakes, the "Duma," the lower chamber of the Russian parliament recently approved a resolution asking President Putin to recognize the two terrorist controlled territories as independent, pro-Russian, states. The concern has been raised that if he signs this resolution the chances for a provocation will be significantly elevated. Putin has promised in the past that Moscow is ready to protect Russians outside of its borders, many of which live in the area. "False flag" operations, used to justify the initiation of military conflict, are not new. The practice dates back to a time when pirates and privateers used the tactic - flying the flag of a neutral country - to deceive other ships into allowing them to move closer before attacking. Subsequent to the "golden age of piracy" - generally accepted to have been somewhere between 1650 and 1720 - rules of naval warfare were adopted. It remained perfectly legal under Maritime Law to fly a "false flag" to chase an enemy ship or to try to escape. However, it was universally agreed that immediately before an attack a vessel had to fly its national flag. Over time, while the descriptive term stuck and the political necessity to justify aggressive actions grew, the concept morphed into a military tactic. Russia has made use of this method numerous times, most prominently when it secured control over the South Ossetia region in Georgia in 2008, and when it annexed Crimea in 2014. In 2014 masked soldiers in unmarked green army uniforms, carrying modern Russian weapons, occupied and blocked the Simferopol International Airport, most Ukrainian military bases on the Crimean Peninsula and the region's parliament. While Putin claimed that these were local militia, spontaneous self-defense groups, a Russian general soon after confessed that these were actually Russian Spetsnaz troops preparing the area for annexation. The recent media focus on potential "false flag" operations in Ukraine may have given the impression that the practice is typically Russian. Nothing could be further from the truth. The technique has been employed by multiple countries throughout history. Many people still insist that the explosion that destroyed the USS Maine in Havana Harbor in 1898 was in fact a "false flag" operation to give the United States a pretext for the Spanish-American War. The armor plates inside the battleship were blown outward, not inward. Sadly, 255 crew members died. On August 2, 1964, the destroyer USS Maddox was fired upon by three Vietnamese torpedo boats in the Gulf of Tonkin in the South China Sea. Two days later, our National Security Agency fabricated a second, "false flag," attack. Subsequently Congress passed the "Gulf of Tonkin Resolution, which led to the deployment of ground troops in what would become the Vietnam War. Twenty-five years earlier, covert Nazi operatives, dressed as Polish soldiers, stormed the Gleiwitz radio tower on the German-Polish border. They broadcast a short anti-German message and left behind the bodies of a pro-Polish German farmer and several Dachau concentration camp inmates dressed up in German uniforms. The Nazis used this fabricated "attack" to justify Germany's invasion of Poland the next day. The most famous "false flag" operation was the burning of the Reichstag on the night of February 27, 1933. A lone communist sympathizer, Marinus van de Lubbe, was arrested, charged and executed for setting fire to the German parliament building. Adolph Hitler and his propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels used this excuse to purge Germany of opposition, especially the communists. The sweeping emergency powers Hitler and the Nazis seized after the fire convinced many people that the Reichstag was burned by the Nazis themselves. And between 1979 and 1983, the Israeli secret service instigated a series of car bomb attacks in Lebanon, claimed by the terrorist organization "The Front for the Liberation of Lebanon." Later an Israeli general admitted that the bombings were carried out by his country to justify invading Lebanon. These days most mainstream sites prefer using "conspiracy theories" to "false flags." To many on-line conspiracy theorists the biggest "false flag" operation of all times was the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Many believe that these attacks were deliberately carried out by the U.S. government to justify the subsequent attacks on Afghanistan and Iraq. (see: "The Truth About "False Flags" from Nazi Germany and the Vietnam War," Sky History TV Channel). Given the volatile situation surrounding Ukraine, the activity on the ground may well have changed by the time this column is published. But, no matter what happens, the Biden administration's apparent strategy to release intelligence information as it becomes available could keep Putin from employing surprise justifications for a more aggressive posture. If the Russian strongman is at all interested in maintaining any measure of international credibility, he should drop the facade and negotiate for peace. Theo Wierdsma

BELIEVE IT! OUR DEMOCRACY IS IN TROUBLE

Thirty-plus years ago, at the end of the Cold War, it appeared that totalitarianism had at last been vanquished and liberal democracy had won the great ideological battle of the 20th century. Today, observers are beginning to express the believe that the defining struggle of our time, again, is between the forces of democracy and authoritarianism. Historically, the United States maintained a commitment to promoting and supporting democracy across the globe. The American people and their leaders generally understood that standing up for the rights of others was both a moral imperative and beneficial to ourselves. However, two long wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, a global recession, and the negative effects of economic globalization soured the public's appetite for extensive international engagements and the perceived link between the promotion of democracy on one hand and military intervention and financial costs on the other has had a lasting impact. Enter Donald Trump. His nativist "America first" administration accelerated the U.S. withdrawal from international entanglements and abdication from its traditional role. Our disengagement served to not only put a strain on our alliances, anti-immigrant, anti-Semitic, Islamophobic and anti-establishment sentiment encouraged at home were copied by others and helped support the flourishing of far-right populist parties taking parliamentary seats in countries like France, The Netherlands, Germany and Austria, while cementing their influence in Hungary and Poland. At the same time, the world's leading autocracies, China and Russia, seized the opportunity to step up internal repression and export their influence to an increasingly receptive audience abroad. All of this evolved while, domestically, the tentacles of autocracy were creeping in, if not undetected, substantially and recklessly unchallenged. As the Trump administration took hold, many became aghast at the disturbing approach to governing it displayed, but few recognized initially what effect "America first" had on civil discourse, established values and international norms and institutions. For many it took years to acknowledge that we were descending unapologetically down a slippery slope to autocracy. Justice Stephen Breyer's remarks at his retirement announcement seem to acknowledge the predicament we are in. He said: "I'll tell you what Lincoln thought, what Washington thought and what people still think: it's an experiment. Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought a country that was dedicated to liberty and the proposition that "all men are created equal and conceived in liberty." However, he acknowledged that, today we are "engaged in a civil war to determine whether that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated can long endure." Donald Trump's election took place the same year the U.K. selected "Brexit" as its way out of the E.U., and coincided with the time that a wave of right-leaning populist parties in Europe began to fragment traditional party systems. In the U.S. President Trump's undisciplined narcissistic approach to governance began to gradually undermine democratic norms and institutions, four years later culminating in his multi-faceted attempt to steal the 2020 election from newly elected Joe Biden. Mr. Trump's continued dominance in the Republican Party and his stranglehold on the Republican National Committee not only reflects his position as past president, it emanates from a carefully developed personality cult, which allows his demagoguery to still convince 70% of his party that the last election was stolen from him. Ultimately, leading Democrats, many academics and liberal commentators began to assert that "by cozying up to dictators, casting aside allies abroad, and mimicking strongmen while undermining institutions at home, Trump is making the world safe for autocracy. It is challenging to analyze an administration's performance when it lacks structure or a consistent ideology. We tend to revert to historical comparisons to suggest a potential endgame. Irish statesman Edmund Burke, Spanish philosopher George Santayana and Winston Churchill all uttered a version of the aphorism "Those who fail to learn from history are condemned to repeat it." While acknowledging that critics have a tendency to paint a mustache or swastika on any politician they dislike, it remains tempting to compare Donald Trump's influence and continued involvement in national politics to the upsurge of autocracy in post World War I Germany. They are too similar, too important, too destructive, and we are still in the middle of its evolution. Hitler was a demagogue who tapped into the anger and helplessness felt by a large number of voters. He attracted a wide following of Germans desperate for change. He promised to pull Germany out of the recession, restore cultural values, turn back the perceived threat of the Communist uprising, put Germany back to work and directed the population's anger against Jews, Marxists and immigrants. In the process Hitler managed to delegitimize core democratic institutions and established autocratic leadership. Trump pretty much did the same thing. He sought to invalidate institutions that did not serve his political goals: the courts, the electoral process, the democratic opposition. He considered the mainstream news media, decried as "Lugenpresse" (press of lies) in 1930 Germany, "fake news." He scapegoated minorities and stirred up hostile emotions against adversaries as did Hitler. And while Hitler affiliated S.A. and S.S. militias, Trump cozied up to allied extremist groups like "Oath Keepers," "Proud Boys," Neo Nazis," and others. It is difficult to imagine a better historical fit than this one, and the end game is all too familiar. Anyone believing that our institutions are too strong to succumb to these autocratic influences should read "It Can't Happen Here," a dystopian 1935 political novel by Sinclair Lewis, describing the rise of a U.S. dictator similar to how Adolph Hitler gained power. Bob and Ruth Schultz, in 1989, produced the reader: "It Did Happen Here." Recently, in January of this year, Jonathan Greenblatt, National Director and CEO of the Anti Defamation League, published: "It Could Happen Here - Why America is Tipping from Hate to the Unthinkable." And for a highly readable academic treatise doubters could consult "How Democracies Die," by Daniel Ziblatt and Steven Levitsky. (2018). Ultimately we need to answer the question whether we actually want our democracy to survive, and what happens when, in a two party system, one of the coalitions is not fully committed to that ideal. Theo Wierdsma