Across the Baltic states this autumn, a conviction has settled among officials and thinkers that the war in Ukraine is less a contained border dispute than the first move in a larger contest over whether the liberal order that bound the West together will hold. George Brandis, a former Australian attorney-general now writing as a columnist, carries that unease back from Tallinn and Riga, where people who live within sight of the Russian frontier speak of America's posture as a test of whether the alliance means what it says. His argument turns on a judgment that many of those he met share: tha
Putin's War Is a Strategy to Fragment the West, Argues Former Attorney-General George Brandis
It is NATO that is next. The Baltic states do not stand alone.
Why does Brandis open with a lunch in Brussels?
Because it shows the mood among diplomats. An ambassador said the White House is occupied by a Russian asset, and no one at the table disagreed.
Careful, though. That's a secondhand account from one guest, relayed to Brandis. The ambassador isn't named, nor is the country. It shows sentiment, not evidence.
Does Brandis claim Trump is actually working for Russia?
He says the remark wasn't a conspiracy theory. He argues Trump's policy serves Putin, probably through ignorance rather than design, though he also says Trump is at best ignorant, at worst complicit.
That last phrase leaves the question open. It's a judgment, not a finding, and the piece offers no proof of intent.
What's the concrete policy example?
Trump's decision to buy Russian diesel and suspend sanctions, which Brandis says helps fund the war.
That's his characterization. The piece gives no details on volumes, duration or terms, so we can't weigh the scale.
And the Baltic view?
Ukraine is their litmus test for American commitment. But Ilze Milta stresses Article 5: an attack on one is an attack on NATO.
Notably, she didn't predict imminent aggression. The fear is about unknown intentions, and the claim of a grand strategy to fragment the West is Brandis's reading, backed by Masala's analysis.
Le Pouls
- A remark at a private NATO lunch, that the White House was occupied by a Russian asset, traveled from Brussels to Tallinn and into a national newspaper, carrying a fear that few at the table would contradict.
- Trump's decision to buy diesel from Russia and suspend sanctions landed like a jolt among NATO allies who had agreed that Russia's war in Ukraine must not succeed.
- Baltic leaders frame Ukraine as a litmus test: if America hesitates there, they wonder how it would answer a Russian move against a NATO member on their own soil.
- Officials across the region admit they cannot say what Putin intends once the fighting in Ukraine ends, and that uncertainty keeps their planning tense.
- The path ahead depends on whether US sanctions policy shifts further and how allies respond, with the alliance's cohesion hanging on those decisions.
Across the Baltic states this autumn, a conviction has settled among officials and thinkers that the war in Ukraine is less a contained border dispute than the first move in a larger contest over whether the liberal order that bound the West together will hold. George Brandis, a former Australian attorney-general now writing as a columnist, carries that unease back from Tallinn and Riga, where people who live within sight of the Russian frontier speak of America's posture as a test of whether the alliance means what it says. His argument turns on a judgment that many of those he met share: that Washington's recent choices, from buying Russian diesel to suspending sanctions, have eased the path of a power that is patient, ambitious, and not yet finished.
At a private lunch among NATO diplomats in Brussels, the ambassador of a major European nation made a blunt remark: the White House was currently occupied by a Russian asset. The American ambassador was not present, and according to the account George Brandis later received, no one at the table disagreed. Brandis, a former Australian attorney-general now at the ANU, heard the story in Tallinn from Marko Mihkelson, chair of the Estonian parliament's foreign affairs committee, during a week-long Baltic visit that followed a conference in Kiev.
Brandis, writing in The Age, argues the remark was not a conspiracy theory but a plain observation: Donald Trump's foreign policy, through ignorance more than design, serves Vladimir Putin's interests. He points to Trump's decision to buy Russian diesel and suspend sanctions, a move he sees as undercutting allies who agree Russia's war in Ukraine must not succeed. Brandis contends the war is not merely a territorial grab or a step toward rebuilding the Soviet empire, but the opening gambit of a grand strategy to fragment the West.
The Baltic states feel this most acutely. Former Latvian defence minister Artis Pabriks described Ukraine as a litmus test of America's attitude toward the Baltics. Latvia's national security adviser, Ilze Milta, stressed that the concern is not that the Baltics are next, but that NATO is next, and that they do not stand alone. Brandis also spoke with Krisjanis Karins, Latvia's prime minister at the time of the invasion, who sent most of Latvia's Stinger missiles to Ukraine and whose country's stake, he says, is total. Karins, quoting Janis Joplin, said Latvians have everything to lose.
What comes next will show whether US sanctions policy shifts further and how NATO allies answer Washington's diesel purchases and sanctions suspension.
At a private lunch among diplomatic representatives to NATO in Brussels this year, the ambassador of a major European nation said something blunt: the problem for Europe is that the White House is currently occupied by a Russian asset. The US ambassador was not at the table. According to the account George Brandis was given, nobody present disagreed.
Brandis, a former Australian high commissioner to the UK, former Liberal senator and federal attorney-general, and now a professor at the ANU's National Security College, heard the story this month in Tallinn from a guest at that lunch. That guest was Marko Mihkelson, the long-serving chair of the Estonian parliament's foreign affairs committee, a Russia scholar and former Moscow correspondent. Brandis writes in an opinion piece for The Age that the remark was not meant as a conspiracy theory. In his reading, it dramatised an observable truth: that Donald Trump's foreign policy, more likely through foolishness and ignorance than design, serves Vladimir Putin's interests remarkably well.
The conversation took place during a week-long visit to the Baltic nations, which followed the Yalta European Strategy conference in Kiev. The Latvian embassy arranged the program under the auspices of foreign minister Baiba Braze, whom Brandis knew from their time as diplomatic representatives in London. It brought him together with politicians, senior officials, military leaders, journalists and think tanks.
Brandis argues that Trump has abandoned any pretence that America champions liberal democracy and defends the global rule of law, and that this plays into the hands of Putin and the other dictators Russia works alongside. He points to a fresh example: a fortnight after his conversation with Mihkelson, Trump decided to buy diesel from Russia, which helps fund the Russian war machine, and to suspend sanctions against it. In Brandis's view, that undercut NATO allies who agree that Russia's war against Ukraine must not succeed.
The Baltic states, which border Russia and its client state Belarus, feel this most sharply, because for them the issue is existential. Artis Pabriks, a former Latvian defence minister, told Brandis that Ukraine is a litmus test of America's attitude toward the Baltics. Yet the Baltics are NATO members and hold the Article 5 mutual security guarantee. Ilze Milta, Latvia's current national security adviser, resists describing them as a separate bloc standing in a different relation to Russia. She said it is not about the Baltic states being next; it is NATO that is next, and they do not stand alone. She did not predict imminent Russian aggression, but like every official Brandis met, she voiced uncertainty about Putin's intentions beyond Ukraine, whenever and however that war ends.
Brandis's central claim is that the war is neither a limited territorial grab rooted in Putin's reading of Russian history nor merely a step toward rebuilding the Soviet empire, whose collapse Putin called in 2005 the greatest geopolitical tragedy of the century. He calls it the opening gambit of a grand strategy to fragment and weaken the West. He cites NATO analyst Carlo Masala, whose essay If Russia Wins became a European bestseller last year. Masala wrote that the war is a conflict over the future structure of the international system, pitting states that want to preserve the liberal order against those seeking radical overhaul, and that Western European leaders have been too slow to grasp it. Brandis says the Baltics grasp it, as does NATO secretary-general Mark Rutte, while too many Western leaders do not. Trump, he writes, is at best ignorant, at worst complicit.
Brandis also spent an hour with Krisjanis Karins, Latvia's prime minister when Russia invaded. Karins ordered most of Latvia's Stinger missiles sent to Ukraine, which Brandis says helped Ukrainian forces deny Russian paratroopers a decisive foothold at Hostomel Airport near Kyiv in the invasion's early days; had they succeeded, he writes, Kyiv would probably have been undefendable. Karins, American-born with a PhD from an Ivy League university, despairs that so many Western politicians miss the scale of Putin's ambition. Quoting Janis Joplin, he said freedom is another word for nothing left to lose, and that Latvians have everything to lose.
What to watch is whether US sanctions policy on Russia shifts further, and how NATO allies respond to the diesel purchases and the suspension of sanctions.
Citations marquantes
Ukraine for us is a litmus test of America's attitude to us in the Baltics.— Artis Pabriks, former Latvian defence minister
It's not about the Baltic states being next. It's NATO that is next.— Ilze Milta, Latvian national security adviser