By Global Risk Insights, Oilprice.com, 2/20/23

Many people underappreciate the vulnerability of the West’s nuclear industry to Russia, and the sector may be about to become embroiled in the Russia-West economic conflict. The EU is debating sanctioning Russia’s nuclear sector, with the EU parliament passing a resolution by 489 votes to 36 urging European Union leaders to include sanctions on Russia’s nuclear industry in the 10th sanctions package, which is expected before the 24th of February. Tensions will escalate as President Putin uses all means at his disposal to secure a victory in Ukraine, including action to discourage Western support for Ukraine.

Nuclear energy produces roughly one fifth of electricity in the EU and USA. Commentators focus on Russia’s dominance over European and American nuclear power in three areas. Firstly, Russia is a major uranium supplier, the material mined for nuclear fuel. Secondly, Russia is even more dominant in developing uranium into nuclear fuel via conversion and enrichment processes, representing 46% of the world’s enrichment capacity. On average, the EU and USA depend on Russia for over 20% of their supplies and services in these areas. Thirdly, commentators note that many nuclear plants in Eastern Europe are Russian made and rely on Russia for maintenance and fuel supply. While Europe and the USA have some counter measures—principally restarting or building processing capacity—these will take time, money, and a thus far absent urgency.

Focusing on these areas, particularly Russia’s dominance in processing, is an insufficient analysis of the risks to the West’s nuclear energy security. A broader, more holistic view reveals that uranium is potentially the most vulnerable facet of the nuclear sector. Russia can target the uranium supply beyond its services and trade, and a tight uranium market will amplify the impact of disruptive action. 

Russia’s Influence Over the West’s Uranium

The uranium market and trade routes are concentrated, making them susceptible to disruption. Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan, producing over half of the world’s uranium supply, are geopolitically vulnerable to Russia. Together with Russia, these countries account for 44% and 49% of the uranium supply to the EU and USA respectively. Kazakh and Uzbek uranium exports often transit through Russia, via St Petersburg or Russian airspace. The main alternative route, touted as a Russia-free substitute, is also vulnerable, including land, maritime, and air routes across the Black Sea, Caspian Sea, Georgia, Azerbaijan, and Armenia. Russia could block transit through its territory, and a particularly desperate Russia could even use its regionally active military forces to interfere with nearby air or maritime trade. New routes for the West are unlikely as they would cross Iran, Afghanistan, or China—which often stockpiles imported uranium rather than exporting it.

Russia could also exert pressure or take action to disrupt uranium production and trade in Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, and ‘alternative route’ countries. It has substantial influence over these countries, which were all in the Soviet Union. In Kazakhstan, Russian soldiers propped up President Tokayev in January 2022 and Russian companies are also heavily integrated in Kazakh uranium production. Russia could exert influence on Armenia and Azerbaijan as a militarily-involved broker in the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict, and on Georgia through its puppet breakaway republic of South Ossetia and Abkhazia. Russia also has military bases in and around these states.

Given Russia’s military focus in Ukraine, action is likely to be covert or represent ‘grey zone’ warfare. Threats, pressure, and the modicum of deniability afforded by fake explanations, could drive these pivotal countries in the uranium market to be politically pragmatic, acquiescing or turning a blind eye to Russia disrupting their uranium trade or production. Disruptive action could come in the guise of corporate sabotage, damage by ‘democratic agitators’, or technical, environmental, and operational issues, which disrupt uranium supply, just as ‘technical issues’ initially stopped Russian gas supply to Europe via Nord Stream 1.

A Global Uranium Deficit Will Amplify Any Disruption

An emerging structural uranium demand-supply imbalance would amplify the impact of Russian disruption. Demand for nuclear energy is surging as countries begin to recognise it is fundamental to the energy transition; providing reliable energy capacity to complement intermittent power from renewable sources. Supply cannot meet rising demand. Uranium prices have been low for a decade, disincentivising mine development, following the unpopularity of nuclear energy after the Fukushima disaster. Since 2019, uranium prices have doubled, as stockpiles have plummeted, and mine supply has fallen to 77% of global demand. New uranium production to combat the supply deficit will emerge slowly, it takes 10-15 years to build a mine and roughly two years to restart a suspended one.

The Cost of Action and Inaction

Whether Russia, or less likely the West, will pursue this new front in the economic conflict—especially as tensions rise—is unknown. Russia currently holds most the cards in the nuclear sector, particularly uranium supply; patchy Western stockpiles will not provide comprehensive resilience. Indeed, Russia could probably tolerate the economic consequences of weaponizing the sector considering its readiness to risk gas revenue from EU customers. Gas earned it c.US$55Bn since February 2022 from the EU alone, while its nuclear exports to Europe and the USA earn it a mere US$1Bn a year.

A uranium supply shock could spark sky-high prices. While the nuclear industry can absorb a higher uranium price, as the material is a small component of operating costs, being able to pay elevated prices does not guarantee supply. As the global scramble for PPE during the COVID-19 pandemic shows, financial firepower has limits and possession can become king, with the ‘have’ and ‘have nots’ quickly becoming apparent. In 2023, being a ‘have’ could simply mean keeping the lights on.

By Kelly Alkhouli, National Interest, 2/18/23

While Russian president Vladimir Putin’s decision to invade Ukraine nearly one year ago was undoubtedly motivated by his desire to leave a mark on history, the risk of a humiliating defeat has united Russian elites in support of the war, regardless of their ideological convictions. Russia’s hawks consider this war as part of a wider conflict against NATO and they fear that a military defeat would not only severely weaken Moscow’s influence around the world but could also risk destabilizing Russia. Although most members of the liberal bloc might not share these security concerns, they understand that in order to negotiate the removal of sanctions, Russia needs to be in a position of strength.

We’re often presented with the claim that if Putin were removed from power, either because of a coup or illness, the war in Ukraine would end. However, this represents a misunderstanding of the Russian power structure and ignores the key interests of the political factions that operate in Putin’s shadow. While there are two main ideological camps, the liberals and the hawks, there exist numerous clans vying for political influence and financial gains. Ties between members of the elite are formed through family relations, business interests, personal friendships, and shared rivalries.

We can divide the Russian elite into three categories based on their roles and responsibilities: siloviki, technocrats, and oligarchs. The siloviki represent law enforcement and security agencies. Although they tend to share similar world views and their collective influence has grown significantly under Putin’s rule, there is intense competition amongst them. The siloviki monitor, investigate, and prosecute members of rival clans while protecting their allies. Technocrats provide bureaucratic influence and can help secure state contracts and subsidies. In order for them to advance in their careers, they must be cleared by the security apparatus. Oligarchs ensure the financial interests of their allies by providing bribes or company shares. Many prominent oligarchs used to work in the security services, such as Igor Sechin, president of Rosneft, and Sergei Chemezov, CEO of defense conglomerate Rostec.

Clans continuously engage in minor power struggles in an environment where surveillance and corruption are rampant. Putin exploits the competitive and ruthless nature of Russian politics to maintain a balance of power and prevent any faction from becoming too powerful. For example, in 2016, he created the National Guard (Rosgvardiya), headed by his former bodyguard, Viktor Zolotov, as a counterweight to the Ministry of Interior. They have overlapping roles, but the Rosgvardiya reports directly to Putin, granting him greater control over how protests and dissent are suppressed. Since the start of the invasion, there have been similar maneuvers to keep factions in check. In the recent military reshuffle, Colonel-General Aleksandr Lapin was appointed chief of the General Staff of the Ground Forces, and General Valery Gerasimov, chief of the Russian General Staff, replaced General Sergei Surovikin as commander of the “special military operation.” This served to reassert the Ministry of Defence’s control over the war effort and curtail the growing influence of Yevgeny Prigozhin, founder of the Wagner Group, and Ramzan Kadyrov, the Chechen leader.

Members of Putin’s inner circle do not form a unified bloc but they have a shared interest in maintaining the status quo in order to safeguard their economic interests and political survival. The few members of the elite who spoke out against the war, such as Mikhail Fridman and Oleg Deripaska, have lost influence in Russia and are sanctioned by the West. Furthermore, the conditions for a coup to be successful are currently highly unfavorable. Rival factions, eager to prove their loyalty, monitor each other while also being monitored by the Federal Protective Service (FSO), a security agency tasked with protecting the Russian president. A coup would also trigger an intense power struggle between clans, which would lead to political instability that could weaken Russia’s war effort. Despite their petty rivalries, the siloviki view a military defeat in Ukraine as an existential threat and continue to support Putin. Even if Putin were removed, his successor would most likely be a technocrat with close ties to the siloviki, such as Sergei Kiriyenko, first deputy chief of staff, or Sergei Sobyanin, mayor of Moscow. While a change in leadership might facilitate peace negotiations, it will not fundamentally change how the Russian system operates, at least not in the short run, nor will it lead to a drastic change in strategy regarding Ukraine.

A military defeat would be a humiliation domestically and on the international stage. Russia would emerge as a regional player with diminished influence and the state would lose credibility given the high casualties and economic loss that it would incur. This could lead to increased protests and secessionist movements that would destabilize Russia, and perhaps even lead to territorial disintegration.

For Russia’s hawks, this conflict is part of a larger hybrid war against the U.S.-led West. Many of them started their careers in the KGB and view NATO expansion as a continuation of the Cold War and a direct threat to Russian security. They blame the United States for fueling anti-Russian sentiment in Ukraine by supporting the 2004-2005 Orange Revolution and the 2013-2014 Maidan Uprising, which they consider to be a U.S.-backed coup. Although there was evidence of American interference, the U.S. role was greatly exaggerated in the minds of the siloviki, who remain paranoid of the prospect of a U.S.-instigated “color revolution” in Russia. Security Council Secretary Nikolai Patrushev, arguably the second most powerful figure in Russia, has stated that the war in Ukraine is a military confrontation against NATO and that the United States wants to weaken and destroy Russia.

Even though members of the liberal bloc might privately oppose the war, they have limited influence on foreign policy or national security as their role is to manage the economy. Prominent figures include Elvira Nabiullina (chairwoman of the Bank of Russia), Anton Siluanov (minister of finance), Herman Gref (chairman and CEO of Sberbank), and Andrey Kostin (chairman of VTB). They have successfully minimized the impact of sanctions: the International Monetary Fund announced that the economy contracted by 2.2 percent (instead of 8.5 percent projected in April) and is projected to grow by 0.3 percent in 2023 and 2.1 percent in 2024. The Russian economy has been damaged by sanctions, but it is far from imminent collapse. Moreover, the liberal bloc understands that relations with the West have reached a point of no return, and certain sanctions will likely remain even after the war. There simply is no economic incentive for Russia to withdraw its troops without a peace settlement that would guarantee a path to sanctions relief.

Capitulation is not an option for either Ukraine or Russia, which means this war will likely continue for several years. Moscow is slowly gaining ground in Donetsk and is preparing a large-scale offensive with 200,000 fresh troops. Even if the offensive fails, Russia still has enough resources to maintain control over certain pockets, which would prevent Ukraine from joining NATO or the European Union. With neither side capable of securing a complete military victory, this war will either end in a frozen conflict or through a political settlement after a prolonged stalemate.

By Sameed Basha, National Interest, 2/18/23

Sameed Basha is a defense and political analyst with a master’s degree in international relations from Deakin University, Australia. He specializes in Asia-Pacific regional dynamics and conflict & security studies.

One year has passed since Russia crossed the border into Ukraine, and the Cold War, confined to the literature of the twentieth century, returned once again with the West bleeding Russia through a buffer state. The war has not been about preventing the cannibalization of Ukraine into Russia. Rather, the war is about maintaining U.S. dominance in the United States European Command (EUCOM).

The Wolfowitz Doctrine, named after then U.S. under-secretary of defense Paul Wolfowitz, was leaked to The New York Times in 1992. The crux of the policy underscored American supremacy at all costs in a post-Soviet world and “stamping out rivals wherever they may emerge.” In addition, U.S. leadership would place defense agreements as the cornerstone of its policy and inadvertently monopolize the global arms trade through treaties. Furthermore, it would prevent allies from developing their defense systems and increase reliance on American-manufactured hardware. Finally, interoperability formed the basis for amalgamating competing factions within NATO.

If this all sounds familiar, as it should, then it is essential to understand when this doctrine formed, how it came about, and why it still shapes many individuals’ views of the West—including Russian president Vladimir Putin’s.

The Fall of the USSR and the Broken Promise

The United States’ victory against the Soviets laid the foundations for the Wolfowitz Doctrine. First, the expulsion of the Soviets from Afghanistan, due to Pakistan’s tactical use of guerrilla warfare, helped drained the Soviet economy and the USSR to its collapse in 1991. Secondly, the United States’ own victory over Saddam Hussein through a “tune-up” war in the same year, allowed Washington to showcase its supreme military might, regain some lost pride after the defeat in Vietnam, and rebuild the confidence of its allies.

In conjunction with this, the Wolfowitz Doctrine stipulated that the United States could silence and integrate two former major powers, Germany and Japan, “into a U.S-led system of collective security and the creation of a democratic zone of peace.” Russia, on the other hand, was dealt with differently—the country fell off the radar. It became insignificant as a geopolitical competitor in the eyes of the West, as its gestures of peaceful offerings were rebuffed and guarantees given to it regarding NATO’s expansion forfeited.

A record of the minutes, declassified and released by the National Security Archives, recounts the meeting between Mikhail Gorbachev and Secretary of State James A. Baker III in Moscow. Baker promised NATO would not expand under any circumstance. He further went on, and stated that “NATO is the mechanism for securing U.S. presence in Europe…We understand that only for the Soviet Union but for other European countries…. it is important to have guarantees that if the United States keeps its presence in Germany within the framework of NATO, not an inch of NATO’s present military jurisdiction will spread; in an eastern direction… Germany’s unification will not lead to NATO’s military spreading to the East.”

In the same meeting, Gorbachev proposed to Baker that as the Soviet Union had dissolved, the need for NATO was no more, and a newly created Russia be allowed to join NATO. Baker dismissed this as a “dream.” However, when Boris Yeltsin came to power, he also proposed joining NATO, and took a step further by labeling membership to NATO as a “political aim for Russia.” In 1994, Russia signed the NATO Partnership for Peace program, which aimed to bridge the divide between the two entities and lead to a pathway to NATO membership.

As the United States realized its privileged position as an uncontested power, it went back on Baker’s word. After all, these “guarantees” were given to the Soviet Union—not to Russia. Taking advantage of this technicality, the United States pushed for former Warsaw Pact countries—such as Poland, Czechoslovakia, and Hungary—to join NATO at the Washington Summit in 1999. Russia opposed the inclusion, but besides a symbolic murmur, Moscow could do nothing to prevent such an endeavor. The successor state of the mighty Soviet Union was not its equal, and thus not considered important enough to be involved in global decisionmaking. Yet, despite its reduced size and sphere of influence, Russia persisted in being considered a key player in international affairs.

Putin’s Ascent and the End of Patience

In 2000, three weeks before his ascension to the presidency, a young and bold Vladimir Putin was interviewed by the BBC’s David Frost. He clarified his intention: “Russia is a part of European culture, and I do not consider my own country in isolation from Europe. Russia is part of the European culture. And I cannot imagine my own country in isolation from Europe and what we often call the civilized world. So it is hard for me to visualize NATO as an enemy.”

When the 9/11 attacks occurred, it provided Putin with an opportunity to prove that Russia was willing to engage with the West in its fight against terrorism, as it saw similar security-related issues in Chechnya. Russian intelligence cooperated with the initial U.S. phase of the invasion of Afghanistan by providing crucial logistical, topographical, and urban data entry points into Afghanistan, especially the areas in and around Kabul. Putin also influenced former Central Asian states to open supply routes into Afghanistan for George W. Bush’s War on Terror. There was never any reciprocation or appreciation for this gesture by the United States, as it overreached and established bases in Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan. America had established itself in Russia’s backyard, and did so as a “favor” to help its security problems and prevent any form of galvanization of groups venturing out of Afghanistan.

Nevertheless, despite these amicable efforts and out-of-the-box thinking by Putin, NATO and the United States could not lose their Cold War mentality—the alliance pushed even more aggressively with its expansion. In 2004, seven countries—Bulgaria, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Romania, Slovakia, and Slovenia—were granted NATO membership. The alliance had not only moved more than an “inch” from Germany, against what was promised by Baker, but was now standing firmly on Russia’s doorstep. George Kennan, the former American ambassador to the Soviet Union and the architect of containment, himself rejected the idea of expanding NATO and warned of its potential consequences. He professed that this “fatal error” could “inflame the nationalistic, anti-Western and militaristic tendencies in Russian opinion.”

The tipping point came in 2007, when Putin had lost patience with the arrogance shown by his Western counterparts. At the Munich Security Conference, Putin declared that he thought “it is obvious that NATO expansion does not have any relation with the modernization of the Alliance itself or with ensuring security in Europe. On the contrary, it represents a serious provocation that reduces the level of mutual trust. And we have the right to ask: against whom is this expansion intended? And what happened to the assurances our western partners made after the dissolution of the Warsaw Pact? Where are those declarations today? No one even remembers them.”

Consequences

America’s position of not granting Russia a dignified parity status only further inflamed Putin. He, along with much of Russia’s political elite, could only come to the conclusion that the United States had no intention of working with Russia in a responsible and respectful manner. Washington was doing nothing more, the Kremlin realized, than carrying out a plan determined in 1992 to impose its will upon the world and “stamping out rivals wherever they may emerge.”

This would be further confirmed in Putin’s mind by American actions in Ukraine, meddling in the country’s political affairs and chalking out a path for the country towards eventually joining NATO and the European Union. The back and forth between both sides led to the Euromaidan Revolution, essentially setting up an everlasting division in Ukrainian politics that only deepened by the year.

From Putin’s perspective, invading Ukraine in 2022 was the only option to signal to the Transatlantic alliance that Russia is now in an economic and geostrategic position to counter any further expansion–that Moscow remembers how the broken promises Baker made to Gorbachev, that the line has been drawn in the sand, and the Wolfowitz Doctrine shall advance no further.

The fact that an op-ed like this is being published at an establishment outlet like Sky News is interesting. – Natylie

By Joseph M. Siracusa, Sky News, 2/14/23

Fifty years ago, the Paris Peace Conference agreed to the US withdrawal of all troops and advisors from Vietnam, ending America’s combat role in Southeast Asia.

It is inherently significant, because, up to then, it was the biggest disaster in the history of American foreign policy.

The loss of treasure and life was unprecedented.

The Department of Defence estimated that from 1961 until President Thieu collapsed in April 1975, the US spent more than $141 billion in Indo-China – or $7,000 each for South Vietnam’s 20 million souls.

Loss of life was heavy.

From the 1961 death of James Thomas Davis, revealed by Lyndon B. Johnson as the first American to fall in defence of freedom in Vietnam, until the Paris accords in January 1973, US casualties numbered 350,00 with 58,000 killed (40,000 in combat).

Vietnamese casualties (North and South) topped two million, with more than 241,000 South Vietnamese dying in combat, along with more than one million combined North Vietnamese and Viet Cong combat deaths and 300,00 MIAs.

“It is also relevant to the present,” observed the Quincy Institute for Responsible Statecraft, “on the question of ‘betraying’ an ally – as applied not only to the US withdrawal from Afghanistan, but to the US engagement in Ukraine and the implicit commitment to persevere.”

The meaning and lessons of the Vietnam War pretty much tell us how Washington will quit its proxy war with Russia in Ukraine, and then how it’ll sell it to the American people.

Never ours to win

One thing about the Vietnam War has remained constant: No politician, policymaker, or analyst has ever seriously argued that the US could have won the Vietnam War.

They have, however, at the time – and since then – offered a myriad of reasons why this was the case.

As early as 1970 thoughtful observers such as Walter Lippmann, the doyen of American journalists, set about the task of analysing what went wrong.

The proposition struck Lippmann as somewhat absurd: “Here we are, some 200 million of us, with the greatest armaments that any country has ever possessed, and there are the North Vietnamese, some 20 million of them, with a primitive industrial system. Yet we have been unable to make them do what we want them to do.”

Lippmann thought that he had the answer as to why this had occurred.

“Because,” he reasoned, “armed peasants who are willing to die are a match for the mightiest power.”

Recognising as legitimate the restraints implicit in unnecessarily drawing in China and the Soviet Union, the United States military, according to Lippmann, found itself with an impossible task: “Thus, our failure in Vietnam sprang from a great mistake. We asked the armed forces to do what it was not possible for them to do.”

Other critiques of Vietnam focused on the character of US involvement, with particular attention paid to the nature of the commitment.

Louis J. HaIIe, a former career officer in the State Department and an historian, contended: “If we will only brush the dust of polemical rhetoric out of our eyes, we shall see that we are not fighting in Indo-China for imperialistic reasons, that we are not fighting there, because we want to increase our territorial possessions or build an empire.

Why, then? “We are,” he asserted, “fighting there because in a moment of national aberration, we acted on a false conception of what the situation was.”

Alongside the theses of the “great mistake” and “national aberration” was also added the equally significant theme of the unsuitability of exporting democratic institutions and practices to certain foreign soils.

Chester L. Cooper, a well-known Asianist and Director of the International Division of the Institute for Defense Analysis, presented this argument in unequivocal language.

“In the past,” wrote Cooper directly to the point, “we should have been more prudent and have insisted upon some minimum standards of stability, appeal, and effectiveness before committing major resources to South Vietnam’s aid – no matter how assiduous the Prime Minister, no matter how attractive the people.”

“Let’s call the whole thing off”

With the battle plainly lost, President Gerald Ford dramatically shifted his ground.

At Tulane University in New Orleans, after the fall of Saigon, Ford told a largely friendly audience, “I ask tonight that we stop refighting the battles and recriminations of the past.

To emphasise the point, Secretary of State Henry Kissinger was elsewhere repeating the same message.

Before the annual meeting of the American Society of Newspaper Editors, Kissinger asked the American people to put the Vietnam War behind them:

“The Vietnam debate has now run its course. The time has come for restraint and compassion. The Administration has made its case. Let all now abide by the verdict of the Congress – without recriminations or vindictiveness.”

When pressed however at a news conference in late April as to what lessons could be drawn from the war, the Secretary attempted to reserve the question for a later occasion, except to say: “I do not think that we can resolve the problem of having entered the conflict too lightly by leaving it too lightly, either.”

Moments later, when asked whether or not the war had so stunned the nation that it might never again come to the economic and military aid of a friend such as Israel, Kissinger conceded: “One lesson we must learn from this experience is that we must be very careful in the commitments we make, but that we should scrupulously honour those commitments that we make.”

Further, he hoped “that no lessons should be drawn from the enemies of our friends from the experiences in Vietnam.”

No lessons drawn, indeed.

The US withdrawal from the unwinnable conflict in Ukraine will play out in much the same way.

By MK Bhadrakumar, Indian Punchline, 2/17/23

The meeting of the defence ministers of the Pentagon’s Ukraine Defence Contact Group in the “Ramstein” format in Brussels on January 14 failed to make any major announcement on the supply of offensive weapons to Kiev.

But the US President Joe Biden is expected in Poland early next week and may have another face-to-face meeting with Ukraine President Vladimir Zelensky. Biden probably intends to make a splash before declaring his candidacy for the 2024 presidential election.

The Biden Administration hopes to push Germany to the war front in Ukraine but the meeting in Brussels ended up inconclusively. Later, the press conference by the US Defence Secretary Lloyd Austin had an air of vacuity, of empty-headedness, devoid of content.

Against this murky backdrop, all that the NATO Secretary-General Jens Stoltenberg would say was that the supply of military aircraft to Ukraine is being discussed, but this is not an urgent problem. According to him, the current conflict is a “struggle of logistics” and ammunition, so the alliance needs not so much to provide Ukraine with new weapons, as to make sure that everything that has already been delivered works. Stoltenberg stressed the need to deliver on the promises regarding German Marder infantry fighting vehicles, American Bradley, as well as Germany’s Leopard 2 tanks. 

The single biggest announcement by Austin on Tuesday was about a decision by the Norwegian government that it will provide 7.5 billion euros in military and civilian assistance to Ukraine over the coming five years. He called it “a very significant commitment.” 

Austin pretended it never occurred to him why Norway is making such a grand gesture, which is in reality a pathetic act of atonement for destroying the Nord Stream gas pipelines. Therein hangs a tale. 

Of course, the Ramstein meeting did not discuss the bombshell report by Seymour Hersh, an investigative journalist with a track record of breaking major stories, on how the US reduced Germany’s Nord Stream gas pipelines to “a hunk of metal at the bottom of the sea” — to borrow the immortal words of Victoria Nuland, US Undersecretary of State — as the conflict in Ukraine was raging.  

According to Hersh’s source, the decision to sabotage the pipeline came directly from President Biden and the subsequent top secret debate within the US administration lasting some 9 months was on how to achieve the goal without getting caught.

Hersh’s report on February 8 disclosed wrote that it was the Norwegian navy which finally found the optimal location for blowing up the Nord Stream 1 and 2 pipelines. Thus, on September 26, 2022, a Norwegian Navy P8 surveillance plane dropped a sonar buoy in a seemingly routine flight, triggering high-powered C4 explosives that had been planted on the pipelines.

Hersh has since explained to the German newspaper Berliner Zeitung that Norway was particularly interested in successfully pulling off the plot against the Nord Stream pipelines. 

In his words, “Norway was interested in income growth, and hence in increasing the volume of its energy supplies to the EU, to the same Germany. And what do we see after the mission? Norway has made it. It’s (energy) exports grew against the backdrop of significant hostility towards Russia.” 

Norway was attracted to Biden’s sabotage project like a fly to the honeypot, since it stood to gain fabulously in financial terms if it helped the US military to destroy Nord Stream pipelines near Danish waters, and replace Russia as Germany’s principal source of piped natural gas. 

To be sure, Norway has made a kill. The loot is estimated to be worth over $100 billion so far! Norway supplied 33 percent of Germany’s gas needs in 2022, making it the country’s largest supplier. 

Experts estimate that “Norway’s position as a key provider of energy to Germany is set to further increase in the years to come, including from new Arctic fields coming on line and new discoveries above the Arctic Circle… Expanded production above the Arctic Circle, arriving from the Irpa field 340 km west of Bodø scheduled to come online in 2026, as well as new discoveries in the Barents Sea including one made in 2022 adjacent to Goliat, will be key to maintaining peak production.

“With Germany largely disconnected from Russian pipeline gas, the door for Norway to further expand its market share and establish itself as the country’s primary gas supplier remains open.”

Ironically, at a joint press conference with German Chancellor Olaf Scholz in August 2022, Norwegian Prime Minister Jonas Gahr Støre claimed that “Norway delivers as much gas as possible to Germany.” Of course, what he didn’t tell Scholz was that Norway was about to execute a project to transform Germany, Europe’s largest consumer of natural gas, as a captive market for it very soon. Actually, Norway blew up the Nord Stream pipelines only a month later on September 22. 

Norway is now burnishing its image as a rich country capable of the milk of human kindness, which is generously sharing a whopping 7.5 billion euros (out of the windfall profit of $100 billion from the German loot) with Ukraine. And Austin announces it as a grand gesture to thwart Russian “aggression”!

This sordid pantomime provokes an incredulous gasp. One cannot but take pity on the German nation which is saddled in these tumultuous times with a mediocre government of inexperienced, dubious politicians who dare not defend their country’s core interests against American bullying. 

The Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov was spot on when he spoke at length for the first time about the Nord Stream pipelines and Seymour Hersh’s article at a working meeting on February 15 with heads of foreign media bureaus accredited in Russia: 

“The main goal was to prevent Germany from feeling comfortable in the energy sphere and from receiving gas via these two pipelines, which were financed by companies in Russia, Germany, Austria and Italy… Germany has not simply been humiliated; it has been put in its place as a satellite of the United States…” 

Norway is not squeamish about giving away a tiny portion of its loot from Germany, a NATO partner Germany. Maybe, it is indulging in an act of atonement over a fiendish crime perpetrated on a neighbour and ally. Maybe, the Biden team urged Norway to burnish its credentials as a Good Samaritan. And Austin hailed it as a solid outcome of the Ramstein meeting at Brussels.