Hladni rat

[Zaz_pi]

Judzin Groves, izuzetno obecavajuci mladi covek sa Univerziteta Cikago, gde je studirao fiziku i bavio se atletikom. Kao izuzetno dobar student dobio je stipendiju za postdilplomske na Oksfordu 1965 ali se posle godinu dana vraca u SAD. Iz nekog razloga se okrece studentskom organizovanju i kandiduje se za predsednika United States National Student Association. Odluka koja ce promeniti njegov zivot. Razlog, otkrice da je United States National Student Association prikrivena CIA organizacija. Otkrice da to nije postala tokom burnih 60ih vec od samog pocetka Hladnog rata. Amerikanci su shvatali duboku penetraciju sovjetskih frontalnih organizacija i poceli su da ih eliminisu i kontrolisu situaciju da im omladinu ne bi preuzeli, u ideoloskom smislu, Rusi.Sve je zapocelo sa National Security Act iz 1947, iste godine se osniva United States National Student Association. Ubrzo je United States National Student Association ne samo bila organizacija za unutrasnje delovanje vec je postojala sekcija za inostrantsvo, formalno saradnja sa studentskim organizacijama sirom sveta, u stvari prikriveni obavestajni rad. Gde su se finansirale i osnivale frontalne studentske organizacije pod kontrolom United States National Student Association.Groves je poceo da preispituje svoj rad zbog Vijetnama. Bio je spreman da izadje u javnost i kaze sta se krije iza United States National Student Association. Velika greska. Ubrzo je poceo da dozivlajva napade sa leva(Students for a Democratic Society) i sa desna(Young Americansfor Freedom). Tu se radilo i o bezbednosti ljudi koji su bili na razmeni iza "Gvozdene zavese" a koji su bili agenti. Na kraju je prica ipak procurela u Njujork Tajmsu 1967. Jedan od najvecih skandala u istoriji CIA. Nije samo United States National Student Association pala vec gomila razlicitih organizacija, nvo, pojedinaca sa fakulteta, medija, sindikati..koji su bili tasteri CIA.

[bigvlada]

Ovih dana je objavljena prava poslastica za istoričare koji se bave dvadesetim vekom. Posle istorijata razvoja špijunskih satelita, još jedna knjiga za internu cirkulaciju je deklasifikovana. Istorijat razvoja špijunskih aviona koja obuhvata U2 i OXCART (u narodu poznatiji kao crna ptica) programe. I dalje ima delova koju su zacrnjeni (pobeljeni) ali to je na nivou koji je bio i kod satelita, preko 99% teksta je tu. Fotografije su lošeg kvaliteta (neko je fotokopirao knjigu, nije skenirana normalnim skenerom) ali su mape ok. Ovo je valjda prvi put da se objavljuje dokument gde se navodi postojanje Oblasti 51 i baze kod Grum lejka.Nema Vanzemaljaca,letećih tanjira, Moldera, Skali i pušača ali je obleodanjena krajnje intrigantna priča o razvoju "crnih" letelica. Poslastice o britanskim pilotima u U2 na letovima preko SSSR-a, letovima iz Indije za vreme kratkog indijsko-kineskog rata, letovima sa Tajvana koje su obavljali tajvanski piloti u špujunskim letovima iznad Maove Kine, snimanje francuskih nuklearnih postrojenja su šlag na torti. Preko 400 strana materijala. :D Samo sam letimično preleteo preko svega, a sada ću natenane da gustiram. Jedva čekam da počnem. :) The Secret History of the U-2US Spy Planes Targeted China to Help India; Used British Crews to "Confuse the Soviets" and Overflew French Nuclear SitesGroom Lake/Area 51 Finally DeclassifiedLess Redacted CIA History Released Under FOIANational Security Archive Electronic Briefing Book No. 434Posted – August 15, 2013Edited by Jeffrey T. RichelsonWashington, D.C., August 15, 2013 – On 21 February 1955, Richard M. Bissell, a senior CIA official, wrote a check on an Agency account for $1.25 million dollars and mailed it to the home of Kelly Johnson, chief engineer at the Lockheed Company's Burbank, California, plant. According to a newly declassified CIA history of the U-2 program obtained under the Freedom of Information Act by National Security Archive senior fellow Jeffrey T. Richelson, the Agency was about to sign a contract with Lockheed for $22.5 million to build 20 U-2 aircraft, but the company needed a cash infusion right away to keep the work going. Through the use of "unvouchered" funds — virtually free from any external oversight or accounting — the CIA could write checks to finance secret programs, such as the U-2. As it turned out, Lockheed produced the 20 aircraft at a total of $18,977,597 (including $1.9 million in profit), or less than $1 million per plane. It was all "under budget," a miracle in today's defense contracting world.What the CIA released in response to a 2005 Freedom of Information Act request is a substantially less redacted version of a history of two key aerial reconnaissance programs. Written by agency historians Gregory Pedlow and Donald Welzenbach, and titled The Central Intelligence Agency and Overhead Reconnaissance: The U-2 and OXCART Programs, 1954-1974, the study was published in classified channels in 1992. Subsequently, a heavily redacted version of the U-2 portion was published, in 1998, by the agency's Center for the Study of Intelligence as a book, The CIA and the U-2 Program, 1954-1974, in conjunction with a CIA conference on the U-2. The full study, in redacted form, had been released in response to FOIA requests.http://www2.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB434/Knjiga se skida kao torrent fajl, ako vam ponudi da skidate pdf (kao meni) to je greška do njih, samo preimenujte taj pdf u .torrent, ubacite ga u npr. mikrotorent i za dvadesetak sekundi imate štivo. http://www2.gwu.edu/...ory.pdf.torrent

[Prospero]

Nije da nismo znali, ali evo ga i smoking gun:

KISSINGER AND CHILE: THE DECLASSIFIED RECORD Kissinger pressed Nixon to overthrow the democratically elected Allende government because his "'model' effect can be insidious," documents show On 40^th anniversary of coup, Archive posts top ten documents on Kissinger's role in undermining democracy, supporting military dictatorship in Chile Kissinger overruled aides on military regime's human rights atrocities; told Pinochet in 1976: "We want to help, not undermine you. You did a great service to the West in overthrowing Allende." National Security Archive Electronic Briefing Book No. 437Posted – September 11, 2013Edited by Peter KornbluhWashington, D.C., September 11, 2013 – Henry Kissinger urged President Richard Nixon to overthrow the democratically elected Allende government in Chile because his "'model' effect can be insidious," according to documents posted today by the National Security Archive. The coup against Allende occurred on this date 40 years ago. The posted records spotlight Kissinger's role as the principal policy architect of U.S. efforts to oust the Chilean leader, and assist in the consolidation of the Pinochet dictatorship in Chile.The documents, which include transcripts of Kissinger's "telcons" — telephone conversations — that were never shown to the special Senate Committee chaired by Senator Frank Church in the mid 1970s, provide key details about the arguments, decisions, and operations Kissinger made and supervised during his tenure as national security adviser and secretary of state."These documents provide the verdict of history on Kissinger's singular contribution to the denouement of democracy and rise of dictatorship in Chile," said Peter Kornbluh who directs the Chile Documentation Project at the National Security Archive. "They are the evidence of his accountability for the events of forty years ago."Today's posting includes a Kissinger "telcon" with Nixon that records their first conversation after the coup. During the conversation Kissinger tells Nixon that the U.S. had "helped" the coup. "[Word omitted] created the conditions as best as possible." When Nixon complained about the "liberal crap" in the media about Allende's overthrow, Kissinger advised him: "In the Eisenhower period, we would be heroes."That "telcon" is published for the first time in the newly revised edition of Kornbluh's book,The Pinochet File: A Declassified Dossier on Atrocity and Accountability, (The New Press, 2013), which has been re-released for the 40^th anniversary of the coup. Several of the other documents posted today appeared for the first time in the original edition, which the Los Angeles Times listed as a "Best Book" of 2003.Among the key revelations in the documents:

• On September 12, eight days after Allende's election, Kissinger initiated discussion on the telephone with CIA director Richard Helm's about a preemptive coup in Chile. "We will not let Chile go down the drain," Kissinger declared. "I am with you," Helms responded. Their conversation took place three days before President Nixon, in a 15-minute meeting that included Kissinger, ordered the CIA to "make the economy scream," and named Kissinger as the supervisor of the covert efforts to keep Allende from being inaugurated. Since the Kissinger/Helms "telcon" was not known to the Church Committee, the Senate report on U.S. intervention in Chile and subsequent histories date the initiation of U.S. efforts to sponsor regime change in Chile to the September 15 meeting.
• Kissinger ignored a recommendation from his top deputy on the NSC, Viron Vaky, who strongly advised against covert action to undermine Allende. On September 14, Vaky wrote a memo to Kissinger arguing that coup plotting would lead to "widespread violence and even insurrection." He also argued that such a policy was immoral: "What we propose is patently a violation of our own principles and policy tenets .… If these principles have any meaning, we normally depart from them only to meet the gravest threat to us, e.g. to our survival. Is Allende a mortal threat to the U.S.? It is hard to argue this."
• After U.S. covert operations, which led to the assassination of Chilean Commander in Chief of the Armed forces General Rene Schneider, failed to stop Allende's inauguration on November 4, 1970, Kissinger lobbied President Nixon to reject the State Department's recommendation that the U.S. seek a modus vivendi with Allende. In an eight-page secret briefing paper that provided Kissinger's clearest rationale for regime change in Chile, he emphasized to Nixon that "the election of Allende as president of Chile poses for us one of the most serious challenges ever faced in this hemisphere" and "your decision as to what to do about it may be the most historic and difficult foreign affairs decision you will make this year." Not only were a billion dollars of U.S. investments at stake, Kissinger reported, but what he called "the insidious model effect" of his democratic election. There was no way for the U.S. to deny Allende's legitimacy, Kissinger noted, and if he succeeded in peacefully reallocating resources in Chile in a socialist direction, other countries might follow suit. "The example of a successful elected Marxist government in Chile would surely have an impact on — and even precedent value for — other parts of the world, especially in Italy; the imitative spread of similar phenomena elsewhere would in turn significantly affect the world balance and our own position in it."The next day Nixon made it clear to the entire National Security Council that the policy would be to bring Allende down. "Our main concern," he stated, "is the prospect that he can consolidate himself and the picture projected to the world will be his success."
• In the days following the coup, Kissinger ignored the concerns of his top State Department aides about the massive repression by the new military regime. He sent secret instructions to his ambassador to convey to Pinochet "our strongest desires to cooperate closely and establish firm basis for cordial and most constructive relationship." When his assistant secretary of state for inter-American affairs asked him what to tell Congress about the reports of hundreds of people being killed in the days following the coup, he issued these instructions: "I think we should understand our policy-that however unpleasant they act, this government is better for us than Allende was." The United States assisted the Pinochet regime in consolidating, through economic and military aide, diplomatic support and CIA assistance in creating Chile's infamous secret police agency, DINA.
• At the height of Pinochet's repression in 1975, Secretary Kissinger met with the Chilean foreign minister, Admiral Patricio Carvajal. Instead of taking the opportunity to press the military regime to improve its human rights record, Kissinger opened the meeting by disparaging his own staff for putting the issue of human rights on the agenda. "I read the briefing paper for this meeting and it was nothing but Human Rights," he told Carvajal. "The State Department is made up of people who have a vocation for the ministry. Because there are not enough churches for them, they went into the Department of State."
• As Secretary Kissinger prepared to meet General Augusto Pinochet in Santiago in June 1976, his top deputy for Latin America, William D. Rogers, advised him make human rights central to U.S.-Chilean relations and to press the dictator to "improve human rights practices." Instead, a declassified transcript of their conversation reveals, Kissinger told Pinochet that his regime was a victim of leftist propaganda on human rights. "In the United States, as you know, we are sympathetic with what you are trying to do here," Kissinger told Pinochet. "We want to help, not undermine you. You did a great service to the West in overthrowing Allende."

At a special "Tribute to Justice" on September 9, 2013, in New York, Kornbluh received the Charles Horman Truth Foundation Award for the Archive's work in obtaining the declassification of thousands of formerly secret documents on Chile after Pinochet's arrest in London in October 1998. Other awardees included Spanish Judge Baltazar Garzon who had Pinochet detained in London; and Chilean judge Juan Guzman who prosecuted him after he returned to Chile in 2000. THE DOCUMENTSDocument 1: Telcon, Helms - Kissinger, September 12, 1970, 12:00 noon.Document 2: Viron Vaky to Kissinger, "Chile -- 40 Committee Meeting, Monday -- September 14," September 14, 1970.Document 3: Handwritten notes, Richard Helms, "Meeting with President," September 15, 1970.Document 4: White House, Kissinger, Memorandum for the President, "Subject: NSC Meeting, November 6-Chile," November 5, 1970.Document 5: Kissinger, Memorandum for the President, "Covert Action Program-Chile, November 25, 1970.Document 6: National Security Council, Memorandum, Jeanne W. Davis to Kissinger, "Minutes of the WSAG Meeting of September 12, 1973," September 13, 1973.Document 7: Telcon, Kissinger - Nixon, September 16, 1973, 11:50 a.m.Document 8: Department of State, Memorandum, "Secretary's Staff Meeting, October 1, 1973: Summary of Decisions," October 4, 1973, (excerpt).Document 9: Department of State, Memorandum of Conversation, "Secretary's Meeting with Foreign Minister Carvajal, September 29, 1975.Document 10: Department of State, Memorandum of Conversation, "U.S.-Chilean Relations," (Kissinger - Pinochet), June 8, 1976.

[Prospero]

U.S. Cold War Policy Was Designed by a Bigot George Kennan's diaries reveal just how much he hated America

 

BY DAVID GREENBERG

 

 

The Kennan Diaries by George F. Kennan, edited by Frank Costigliola (W.W. Norton and Co.)

 

On a hot, dusty sunday in September 1959, George Frost Kennan welcomed to his Pennsylvania farmhouse a peculiar trio of political intellectuals. Trekking out to see the retired diplomat and renowned Sovietologist on that Labor Day weekend were the German-born psychologist Erich Fromm, the sociologist David Riesman, and Norman Thomas, the perennial Socialist Party nominee for president. Their agenda was the creation of a new socialist party for the United States.

 

“What a strange quartet we were,” Kennan remarked in wonder. The “brilliant, subtle, and hugely imaginative” Riesman, he rightly observed, had never been enchanted “by the waning power of Marx’s magic spell”; but more to the point, Kennan himself “had little sympathy ... with the inherent self-pity of the socialist cause.” As Kennan recorded in his diary that day, Burke, Gibbon, and the nineteenth-century Russian novelists shaped his own thinking much more than any left-wing thinkers ever had. “All my Scottish-Protestant antecedents rose in protest against this egalitarianism,” he wrote. “This really wild belief in the general goodness of man, this obliviousness to the existence of original sin ... this grievous Marxist oversimplification of the sources of aggressiveness and bad behavior in the individual as in the mass”—it was all too naïve and wooly-minded. Predictably, the attempted meeting of the minds ended in incoherence, thrusting Kennan back into what he called “the organizational isolation where, evidently, I belong.”

 

This vignette is one of many gems in Kennan’s fascinating and damaging journals, now edited by Frank Costigliola, a skilled historian of American foreign relations, and it highlights a riddle of Kennan’s life: his policy ideas were utterly central to the foreign relations of the United States in the twentieth century, but he had no real home in its political system. Normally a supporter of Democrats—in the diaries, he voices support for the presidential bids of Adlai Stevenson, John F. Kennedy, Eugene McCarthy, Frank Church (“promptly regretted it deeply”), and Bill Clinton (“without enthusiasm”)—Kennan was nonetheless profoundly conservative in his worldview. This conservatism was neither the belligerent cultural populism bequeathed to today’s Republicans by Richard Nixon nor the happy hawkishness championed by Ronald Reagan (both of whom Kennan abhorred). It partook, rather, of Burke’s chastened view of human nature, and of the declinism of Gibbon, and of the Social Darwinism of Herbert Spencer and William Graham Sumner—often manifested, in Kennan’s case, in casual and appalling prejudices. Above all, it echoed the brooding anti-modernism and civilizational despair of Henry Adams, to whom, fittingly, Kennan likened himself in the winter of his life. The architect of the policy of containment, it turns out, crafted the policy in defense of a country he never much liked, filled with citizens he by and large despised.

 

 

 

Illustration by Bradley Jay

 

A relentless gloom pervades these diaries, which span from 1916, when Kennan was eleven, to 2004, when he was ninety-nine. There is, to be sure, much more in these copious pages: notes and excerpts of articles and lectures; idiosyncratic travelogues; above-average doggerel (a mark of his 1920s Princeton education); appraisals of leading politicians and diplomats; scenes from his social life (though few from his home life); and, especially when he served in government, trenchant analyses of the foreign-policy problems of the day. Time and again, however, Kennan reverts to his mandarin pessimism, his bleak and chilly ruminations on the broken world around him. Despite his many accomplishments—he not only laid fair claim to crafting his country’s cold war strategy, but also won virtually every major prize in American letters—he is forever despairing in these pages of ever influencing anyone or anything. Statesmen seek his counsel, editors solicit his articles, audiences invite him to speak. But no one ever seems to listen. Repeatedly he wonders about the point of it all.

 

His Pennsylvania farm providing inadequate refuge, Kennan even fantasizes about retreating to New Hampshire or Vermont to farm—fantasies that, as the years pass, shift to ever more remote locales: Alaska, Norway, Antarctica. He is a relic of the nineteenth century, a misfit in modern times. The achievements of science, medicine, and technology leave him cold; he sees only the defilement of nature wrought by the automobile, and the corruption of the spirit brought on by consumer society, whose blight he laments with numbing frequency. (“With all due effort to avoid exaggerated pessimism and over-dramatization,” he writes, in a typical passage, from 1978, “I can see no salvation for the U.S. either in its external relations nor in the development of its life internally.”) From urban decay to the decline of the schools, from the media’s crass commercialism to sexual libertinism, he sees all about him a decadent society—late Rome—offering grounds only for hopelessness.

 

Who was this sour curmudgeon who thought so poorly of America’s future, and yet who also provided his nation’s leaders with the intellectual guide rope to grasp as they lurched through the cold war? Born in 1904 to a family of Wisconsin Presbyterians, he lost his mother at two months old—the wellspring of his lifelong melancholy. (Late into his life Florence Kennan would appear in George’s dreams.) Wallowing in his loneliness, he developed a tragic sensibility that he carried with him as an undergraduate at Princeton, where the self-pitying young scholar felt alienated from his fellow students’ Fitzgeraldian wealth and whimsy. Upon graduation he joined the Foreign Service and lived abroad for most of the next two decades; there he met his wife, a Norwegian named Annelise Sørensen, and developed his expertise on Russia—a subject that had also enchanted another George Kennan, an older cousin well known a century before for his explorations in Siberia and other remote regions of the country.

 

The younger Kennan found much to dislike about Russia—as he did about most places he visited—calling it, for example, “a filthy, sordid country, full of vermin, mud, stench, and disease.” But he also developed a love of it, and he immersed himself in its history and its culture. Early on he discerned the exhaustion of the communist ideal. “Will the pathos of the burly, over-alled worker, with his sleeves rolled up, brandishing a red flag and striding over the bodies of top-hatted capitalists, ever grasp the hearts of people as it did just after the war?” he wonders in 1935. “I doubt it.”

 

Kennan’s historical studies gave him a keen appreciation as well of Russia’s inflexible need for a sphere of influence along its western border. For Kennan this meant, among other things, forsaking at the end of World War II the so-called London Poles, Poland’s wartime government-in-exile. What’s more, it meant thwarting the hopes of all Poles for self-determination. After dining in 1944 with Stanisław Mikołajczyk, the leader of the London Poles, he notes in his journal that “I wished that instead of mumbling words of official optimism we had the judgment and the good taste to bow our heads in silence before the tragedy of a people who have been our allies, whom we have saved from our enemies, and whom we cannot save from our friends.” Sure enough, the West could do little to stop Stalin from installing, in brazen violation of his commitments, a stooge regime.

 

Kennan’s consummate knowledge of Russia and his pessimistic temperament led him, while serving in the American Embassy in Moscow after the war, to draft his famous “Long Telegram.” This extensive analysis of the Soviet regime held out the most meager prospects for continuing the wartime alliance. Widely circulated in Washington, Kennan’s missive—along with an expanded articulation of his thoughts, “The Sources of Soviet Conduct,” published the next year in Foreign Affairs under the pseudonym “Mr. X”—gave rise to the doctrine of containment, which would guide American foreign policy for decades. Steering a middle course between the folly of war and the futile Wallaceite hope of cooperation, Kennan counseled containing the Soviet drive to expand its influence through the strategic application of American power. (The diaries, regrettably, contain little on this crucial period; Kennan diarized less when he was busy.)

 

By the time of the X article, Secretary of State George C. Marshall had named Kennan to run the State Department’s newly created Policy Planning Staff. It is a testament to Kennan’s legacy that the office has since been treated as a perch for the department’s resident intellectual. (Although, truth be told, the most notable cultural document to emerge from the office since Kennan’s day has probably been Anne-Marie Slaughter’s famous article on “Why Women Still Can’t Have It All.”) In his diaries Kennan offers an explanation of why, even during his own tenure, the Policy Planning office was consigned to ineffectuality. “It is time I recognized that my planning staff ... has simply been a failure, like all previous attempts to bring order and foresight into the designing of foreign policy by special institutional arrangements,” he lamented in 1949. “The reason for this seems to lie largely in the impossibility of having the planning function performed outside of the line of command.... No one can regiment this institution in the field of ideas except the Secretary.” Meaningful planning couldn’t arise from an adjunct office; it had to flow from the top.

 

Kennan—whose bouts of self-loathing alternated with egotistical claims about his unique prophetic vision—was here underselling his contributions at State. In particular the Marshall Plan, the most widely praised pillar of Harry Truman’s cold war policy, drew direct inspiration from Kennan’s arguments about the need to bolster postwar Europe economically. But Kennan was also right that his influence had peaked. He finished out Truman’s presidency with a largely fruitless stint as ambassador to the Soviet Union before being rudely forced into retirement by the incoming president, Dwight Eisenhower, and his haughty secretary of state, John Foster Dulles, who vowed to replace containment with a more aggressive plan of “rollback.” (The Hungarians learned in 1956 that it was hollow rhetoric.) Kennan repaired to the Institute for Advanced Study to write history and to brood about the imminent demise of Western civilization.

 

In historical perspective, the concept of containment served American policymakers well, though not without costs as they argued about what it meant. In later years, a simplistic critique of the doctrine would argue that it led the United States into terrible misadventures, especially in Vietnam. But, as is well known, and as the diaries amply attest, Kennan opposed the war in Vietnam from early on; one of Johnson’s first bombing raids, he writes on February 7, 1965, “is a sort of petulant escapism, & will, I fear, lead to no good results.” Containment, Kennan always held, did not mandate intervention in non-strategic places as far away as Southeast Asia, nor was it primarily a prescription to use military force. Kennan also deplored McCarthyism, promoted Radio Free Europe, and opposed the arms race: which is to say, he was right about some of the most vital issues of his time.

 

But if Kennan found it easy to fault other policymakers’ misinterpretations of containment, he did not make it easy for them to know what he meant by it. As with most grand doctrines, the devil was in the details, rendering the doctrine less than reliable in its specific applications. Famously, Kennan called for the “adroit and vigilant application of counterforce at a series of constantly shifting geographical and political points, corresponding to the shifts and maneuvers of Soviet policy.” But not every president or policymaker would necessarily identify the same pressure points, and the ground for bitter disputation was sowed. As early as 1947, Kennan was critical of the Truman Doctrine—the president’s pledge to help free peoples resisting communist subjugation—because he thought it too expansive (though he favored helping Greece and Turkey resist communist subversion). In short, no sooner had he formulated the idea of containment than he feared it was being corrupted. When, in 1947, Walter Lippmann subjected the X article to a thoroughgoing critique in a series of columns in the New York Herald Tribune, Kennan himself found himself endorsing many of Lippmann’s criticisms, or so he later said.

 

And yet, as the diaries also remind us, Kennan hardly abjured the military altogether, as some dovish interpreters of containment have claimed. He was extremely hawkish in support of the Korean War. Kennan frankly endorsed extending the idea of containment from Europe to Asia, calling for a hard-line stance against the North Koreans and their Soviet and Chinese sponsors, even if that required putting more American troops under arms than first planned. “We had to go through with our purpose in Korea, come what may,” he wrote in July 1950, lest the Russians smell weakness. To his colleagues, he argued that it “was a question of our will and not our capability.”

 

Interestingly, Kennan was a hawk on Suez, too. In 1956, when Israel, Britain, and France tried to stop Egypt—with Soviet backing—from brazenly nationalizing the Suez Canal, Kennan faulted Eisenhower and Dulles for capitulating to the Russians and “selling out French and British interests there.” (He never cared much about Israeli interests.) He feared that the Russians might “dominate the area and use the oil, to the extent they could control it, as an instrument of blackmail against the West.” Given this constantly shifting advice, depending on the “geographical and political points” at stake, it would be wrong to surmise crudely that containment applied in Egypt and Korea, but not Eastern Europe or Vietnam. It would not be wrong, however, to wonder if containment, at least as George Kennan intended it, applied pretty much wherever George Kennan thought it applied at any given moment.

 

For the student of American foreign policy, Kennan’s accounts of dealing with his Russian counterparts, his arguments about strategy in the Korean War, and other such material all add up to a tremendous historical resource. But in the latter half of Kennan’s life, when his interactions with power were fleeting and usually ceremonial, what dominated the journals were heavy ruminations about life, career, and humankind. Sometimes these are provocative, sometimes petty, and over seven hundred pages they grow wearisome. Curiously, Kennan himself had a similar impression. “I have been reading over the diary entries from 1964-1984, and have derived little pride or satisfaction from the effort,” he writes in 1987. “Where they were not personally plaintive, they tended to be repetitive.”

 

What spoils the tedium, what compels fascination despite the monotony, are the astonishing outbursts of bigotry and misanthropy. Apparently, the value of these splendid rants against all manner of ethnic groups was lost on William Shawn, who by then had left The New Yorker and was an editor at what Kennan calls “the very Jewish firm of Straus & Farrar.”

 

Having been shown the diaries for possible publication, Shawn told Kennan’s (very Jewish) agent Harriet Wasserman that Kennan’s “German problem”—something of a cryptic phrase—was too toxic. Shawn appears to have been bothered that the journals were littered with disparaging comments about Jews and the Jewish people, although Kennan seems not to have noticed those asides in his own re-readings. “I have never been anti-Semitic,” he insists in response, with a breathtaking lack of self-awareness, “but I must admit that this episode brought me as close as I have ever been to becoming one.” (Ten years later he is still seeing Jewishness as only an anti-Semite would. “The scandal of Mr. Clinton’s relationship to his Jewish girl intern ...” one entry begins.) There is poetic justice in the likelihood that the publication of these diaries will do more to tarnish their author’s reputation than the publication of any collection of private writings since H. L. Mencken’s.

 

The diaries establish beyond any doubt that Kennan was given to gross and derogatory generalizations about virtually all foreign peoples. (Historians have known about Kennan’s ugly qualities, but the diaries lay it bare for any reader.) His belief in national character was strong, and if it led him to important insights about Russian behavior, much more often it led to repulsive and ill-informed slurs. The shockers start early. During his junior year at Princeton, he writes about a conversation with a friend called Army. “He half-converted me to his ‘extermination of the lower races’ idea,” Kennan writes. “I cannot see why it is wrong in principle.” As a twenty-eight-year-old Foreign Service officer, he remains convinced that the world’s problems are “essentially biological” in that “We have a group of more or less inferior races.... No amount of education and discipline can effectively improve conditions as long as we allow the unfit to breed copiously and to preserve their young.” Nor does Kennan learn, in his long globe-trotting career, to see this rubbish for what it is. At the age of eighty, he is still confiding to his diary his enthusiasm for eugenics. “If I had my way...” he muses, “Men having spawned more than 2 children will be compulsively sterilized. Planned Parenthood and voluntary sterilization will be in every way encouraged.” Policy planning indeed. (Immigration, too, “will be effectively terminated.”)

Who were these “inferior races” whose perpetuation Kennan deplored? Jews, to be sure. But the Jews were in good company. In fact, it is hard to find an ethnic group that escapes his contempt. An Italian he meets while traveling is a “typical dago—wears a cap, a bushy, black, moustache ... talkative in a weak, ignorant, furtive, sneering way.” The Georgians, he proclaims, are “a lazy, dirty, tricky, fiercely proud, and recklessly brave people. They never seem to work unless they have to.” The Iraqis he encounters on a trip to Baghdad are “a population unhygienic in its habits, sorely weakened and debilitated by disease, inclined to all manner of religious bigotry and fanaticism, condemned by the tenets of the most widespread faith to keep a full half of the population, namely, the feminine half, confined and excluded from the productive efforts of society by a system of indefinite house arrest.”

 

No group is too small or too far outside Kennan’s expertise to elude his confident condescension. Zambians are wracked by “suppressed anger” and “ostentatious cockiness.” Lithuanians are “foolish.” What he finds ugly about southern stretches of New England—the landscape “grown over by scrub forest”—he attributes to the “Italians and Portuguese, the tone set increasingly by the Catholic Church.” Even the Norwegians—of whom his wife was one—“for all their admirable characteristics ... have small regard for subtleties & refinement of thought.”

 

Unsurprisingly, blacks do not rank especially high in Kennan’s estimation. In one extraordinarily lunatic rant, from 1978, he envisions all of humanity destined to “melt into a vast polyglot mass,” with only the Chinese, Jews, and blacks remaining apart. “Could this mean that these three minorities are destined to subjugate and dominate all as an uneasy but unavoidable triumvirate the rest of society—the Chinese by their combination of intelligence, ruthlessness, and ant-like industriousness; the Jews by their sheer determination to survive as a culture; the Negroes by their ineradicable bitterness and hatred of the whites?” (And Kennan was worried that he had a “German problem”!) His racism toward African peoples extended to his evaluation of South African apartheid. “It is not my purpose here to appear as an apologist for the practices of the South African government in racial questions,” he writes in 1967, “but....” The telltale but! He proceeds not only to excuse apartheid but also to warn that “a reversal of South African policy designed to force racial segregation on a reluctant white population” would produce results as bad as those “in many a number of great American cities.” Even as late as 1990, with democratic change sweeping the country, he remains impassive. “I have no confidence in the prospects for anything like a mingling of the races in South Africa, nor can I permit myself to hope that the whites will be permitted to retain very much of the quality of their own lives.”

 

Ethnic and racial bigotry, alas, did not exhaust Kennan’s reservoir of prejudice. Equally hideous were his attitudes toward women. He conceived of the sexes as wholly different creatures, with women invariably subordinate. “A woman, as she grows older, should become more sociable,” he reflected in midlife, “and should seek her compensation in service to others, without asking too much from them.” This was hardly an uncommon view among his generation, but Kennan’s penchant for orotund pronouncements in these diaries renders his precepts about women’s roles especially obnoxious—such as his argument that biblical injunctions against adultery were conceived when polygamy was the norm, and thus “it was easier to observe when you had 35 of them.” And then there was homosexuality. Kennan saw the rising visibility of gays in American life as another harbinger of the nation’s moral rot. “The weird efforts to claim for homosexuality the status of a proud, noble, and promising way of life” he grouped with “shameless pornography” and “the pathological preoccupation with sex and violence” as a mark of America’s “unrestrained decadence” at the century’s end.

 

The more time one spends with Kennan, the more one sees that this general disdain for the various peoples of the world was part of a thoroughgoing misanthropy. Even as a young man, he expresses disgust with regular people. In one case it is a group of Rotarians with whom he shares passage from Europe on the George Washington, whom he deems “nice people” but without “a real lady or gentleman among them.... They are children, and it is a bore to have to protect children from their environment when you cannot discipline them and teach them to protect themselves.” 

 

Encounters with the masses leave him angry and scornful, complaining to his diary about Americans’ love of television, cars (in ice storms he takes pleasure from the sight of motorists sliding on the roadways), instant gratification, and—waxing lyrical—the culture’s “wretched sexual encounters in the back-seats of cars, its proudly-worn gonorrheas, its hangovers, its cruelties, its bad faith.” Even when he seeks refuge from America’s vulgarity in the refined climes of old Europe, his countrymen annoy him. “‘These damned American tourists,’ so goes my inner protest, ‘with their lousy clothes—their exposed undershirts, their California-style ‘casual’ shirts, their jeans and tennis shoes: Why do they have to be here in the Zurich airport?’”

 

Kennan’s contempt for his fellow Americans may be the most startling of all his hatreds. It is hard, after all, to reconcile his loyal career in government with the low opinion he held of the United States and its people. “For me this country presents no interest whatsoever,” he writes while on a train from Washington to Princeton in December 1953. “This is an infinitely boring country, which, though it has not the slightest idea about this, is condemned to a sad and pitiful fate.” Or, a few years later: “For my own country, I have not a shred of hope, not one.” Two decades later, more of the same: “More and more it is borne in upon me how little I have in common with, how little I belong to, this polyglot accumulation of people in the meridial part of North America.”

 

Kennan’s revulsion toward the mediocrity that he saw as endemic to America was connected ultimately to a hostility to democracy itself. Though he deplored Soviet communism, and put his intellectual and diplomatic skills to fighting it on his country’s behalf, he never had much regard for the alternative. He never grasped that the price of loving democracy is tolerating—even enjoying—its messiness and conflicts, its interest-group jockeying, its coalitions and deal-making, its pluralism. Any citizenry can of course be ill-informed and shortsighted, and we rely on good leaders to respond to public opinion with not just respect and sensitivity but also independence of judgment. But then Kennan never really loved democracy, with its unelevating give-and-take and its appeal to public opinion. “I believe in dictatorship,” he wrote as a young man, during the Depression, “but not the dictatorship of the proletariat. The proletariat, like a well-brought up child, should be seen and not heard. It should be properly clothed and fed and sheltered, but not crowned with a moral halo, and above all not allowed to have anything to do with government.”

 

In the diaries, Kennan does not sing the praises of outright dictatorship after his 1930s flirtation, and he surely knew that the United States was not going to renounce its open political system. Yet throughout his life he continued to imagine “better” alternatives, such as “hereditary oligarchy,” which he believed history had shown to be a far more reliable custodian of the public welfare than self-government ever was. Later in life, as if resigned to the permanence of democratic forms in the United States, he takes pains to make clear that he supports only “representative government” and not direct democracy; and he contends that the public should be restricted in its voting choices to a slate of candidates selected by some other elite body. “It is not in the election of representatives that our system fails; it is in the process of nomination. That is an extremely complicated problem.” By the time Kennan published Around the Cragged Hill in 1993, another volume of lugubrious reflections on all that is wrong with everything, he arrived at a solution that he called a “Council of State,” an unelected body that would take over certain functions of government. Reviewers, who generally treated the idea as eccentric but charming, failed to recognize that it was only the most gentle of Kennan’s anti-democratic tendencies, one of the few he was willing to publish.

 

Kennan’s dim view of democracy, of America, of humankind, is of more than passing interest, more than a quirky sidelight to a distinguished intellectual career—like Vladimir Nabokov’s lepidopterology or Dwight Macdonald’s nudism. It forces a reconsideration of his much-praised realism, the cold-eyed interest-based pragmatism that he prescribed for American foreign policy. In making notes for an article for Foreign Affairs in 1953, he writes, “What I would like to show is that the conduct of the foreign relations of a great country is a practical, not a moral, exercise. What is at stake is the adjustment of conflicting interests.” This nostrum makes sense in considering how to handle a rival superpower, but it has some glaring limitations when it comes to peoples whose interests are not represented at the great powers’ bargaining table in the first place. Foreign policy should not be sentimental, but neither should it be inhumane. Kennan’s “realism” was inextricably tied to a callous willingness to see other people suffer, a gaping moral deficiency that permitted him far too easily to distance himself from his fellow human beings, even his fellow countrymen. “For my entire literary life, as I now see it,” he writes at one point, “has been one long effort to gain understanding for the outlooks of others and to reach their understanding for my own.” Never did a statement show less self-awareness.

 

He was at his best when he could engage with given geopolitical realities and apply his chessboard thinking and pragmatic judgments. In these self-pitying pages, he likes to note those occasions on which he was astute or prescient in assessing big problems: “In the case of the Soviet Union, I was one of the first to recognize the essentiality of the ideology to the regime ... that you cannot expect to have normal relations with people who have a great deal of blood on their hands.” And again: “I was one of the first, and the few, to recognize that the weapons of mass destruction invalidated all previous thinking and doctrine concerning the value and uses of armed force.” To be sure, he was right—and profoundly influential—on many of the most important questions of the day, although sometimes right for the wrong reasons. But America was spared the full consequences of his uglier ideas because he always played a subordinate role to men who were superior politicians—superior in part because they had a greater love for the people of the United States and the people of the world: Franklin Roosevelt, Averell Harriman, George Marshall, Harry Truman, John Kennedy. It was all to the good that these superiors, even as they drew on his understanding of the Soviet regime and his strategic acumen, confined him to his advisory roles, and never allowed George Kennan, as he himself might have written, to have very much to do with actual government

 

David Greenberg is a professor of history and of journalism and media studies at Rutgers and the author of Nixon’s Shadow: The History of an Image (Norton), among other books.

btw, bio je i ambasador u beogradu 1961-63, nije se snašao u toj poziciji (iz više razloga).

[namenski]

 

Ne ide sut s rogatim ili letak kojim se severnokorejskim i kineskim vojnicima pokusavalo da utuvi u glavu.

Tekst je, kazu: Mrve se stene, vazduh se prolama, ne moze se misicima (mesom) na ovakvu na slici prikazanu silu.

 

Nije upalilo. 

[Prospero]

channeling kennan:
 

What Would George Kennan Say About Ukraine?
tags: Russia, Ukraine, George Kennan
by Geoffrey Roberts

An expert on Soviet and Russian military and foreign policy, Professor Geoffrey Roberts is Head of the School of History at University College Cork, Ireland. The author of "Stalin’s General: The Life of Georgy Zhukov" (Random House 2012), which won the Society of Military History’s Distinguished Book Award for Biography, his latest book is a new English edition of Zhukov’s memoirs: "Marshal of Victory: The Autobiography of General Georgy Zhukov" (Pen & Sword 2014). Earlier this year Professor Roberts was a visiting scholar at the Mudd Library, Princeton University, the repository of George Kennan’s private papers.
 

“We must be gardeners and not mechanics in our approach to world affairs” (George F. Kennan)

The spectre of Russian expansion is once again haunting Europe. The longer the Ukrainian crisis rumbles on, the louder become the voices in favour of reviving the cold war policy of containment. Putin may be an authoritarian nationalist rather than a totalitarian communist, but those voices contend that -- like his Soviet predecessors -- the Russian President is intent on creating a sphere of influence to challenge western values and political systems.

Putin has even been compared to Hitler and his critics ask: after Russia’s absorption of the Crimea, what next?
The original architect of containment was George F. Kennan, a hitherto obscure diplomat in the US embassy in Moscow who captured the public imagination when, in 1947, he published an article in Foreign Affairs entitled “The Sources of Soviet Conduct.” His article was published anonymously but the author’s identity soon became known and Kennan became a celebrity commentator on Soviet affairs.

Kennan’s analysis captured the mood of the moment. He explained why efforts to negotiate a postwar peace settlement had failed in the face of Soviet expansionism in central and eastern Europe. Power was the only language the Kremlin understood, argued Kennan. The only way to stop the Soviets and their communist allies was through deploying countervailing power.

Less well noted was Kennan’s comment in the same article that containment was not a moral posture and “had nothing to do with outward histrionics: with threats or blustering or superfluous gestures towards toughness.” It was a policy tool to protect vital American interests. The Soviet Union was an ideological state committed to spreading communism, he noted, but it was also a great power with its own interests and sensibilities. Soviet leaders were not beyond considerations of prestige and, as with leaders of other great nations, they should be given ways to save face.

Kennan saw containment as fundamentally a political strategy. Military power should be reserved for protection not projection. The Soviet foe would be vanquished in a contest of values and ideas. In the late 1940s Kennan was disturbed by what he saw as the militarisation of his concept of containment – the establishment of NATO, the division of Germany and the ever-deepening cold war divide in Europe.

Kennan opposed the 1950s version of today’s regime-change policy, the so-called liberation strategy of Eisenhower’s Secretary of State, John Foster Dulles. Kennan argued the communist bloc would change as a result of internal processes not through the force of external threats or intrigues. Liberationist rhetoric would only entrench Soviet hardliners. “We must be gardeners and not mechanics in our approach to world affairs,” urged Kennan in his lectures on The Realities of American Foreign Policy at Princeton University in 1954.
Kennan was particularly irked by the western failure to understand Soviet anxiety about NATO and the rearming of West Germany in the 1950s – it was, after all, less than a decade since the end of a war in which millions of Soviet citizens had been massacred by the Germans. While Soviet perceptions of a western military threat were exaggerated, their underlying fears were genuine. Western leaders seemed unable to grasp how their own fears were being mirrored by those of the Soviets.

When Kennan was appointed Ambassador to the Soviet Union in 1952 he recorded in his diary that he felt “we were expecting to gain our objectives without making any concessions whatsoever to the views and interests of our adversaries. Our position seemed to me to be comparable to the policy of unconditional surrender.” From Moscow he cabled the State Department that “if one were able to strip away…propagandistic distortion and maligning of foreign intentions, one would find that there remained a certain hard core of genuine belief in the sinisterness of western intentions.”

Kennan’s vision of containment included a degree of US military disengagement from Europe so as to open an American-Soviet dialogue based on an acceptance of differences in perspectives and interests. The United States need not fear that it would be subverted or weakened by such a dialogue. America only had to be true to itself to win the cold war, Kennan believed. In his Reith Lectures in 1957 Kennan advocated Soviet and Western withdrawal from West and East Germany and the reunification of the country as a neutral state – an act which he believed would in time help loosen the Kremlin’s grip on the communist bloc.

As a realist rather than an idealist Kennan was fond of quoting John Quincy Adams that America “goes not abroad, in search of monsters to destroy.” While the United States “was the well-wisher to the freedom and independence of all”, it was through example rather than force that America should lead the world. If it pursued force the United States would undermine its own values and beliefs.

The cold war ended much in the way Kennan envisaged – through a process of internal change within the Soviet bloc led by Mikhail Gorbachev. In the 1990s Kennan opposed taking too much advantage of the collapse of communism and the Soviet Union. He believed NATO’s expansion to Russia’s borders was “the greatest mistake of the entire post-Cold War period.”

Kennan died in 2005 but his likely advice on the Ukraine crisis would be threefold.

• 
  First, understand Putin’s point of view about the vital Russian interests he believes to be at stake in Ukraine – a country in Russia’s backyard, not America’s.
• 
  Second, defend America’s vital interests but pursue broader, transformational goals through a process of constructive engagement with Russia.
• 
  Third, learn the negative as well as the positive lessons of cold war history. Do not allow containment to become an instrument for the isolation of Russia that may turn a potential ally in world affairs into a dedicated foe. A new cold war is certainly not in the interests of the people of Ukraine, who need not the mutual enmity of Russia and the United States but rather to benefit from aid and collaboration with them both.

- See more at: http://hnn.us/article/155725#sthash.x8ct36Oo.dpuf

 

[namenski]

[iDemo]

Vidim (ako samo dobro video) da nije bilo na temu "relikti Hladnog rata":

http://archive.wired.com/politics/security/magazine/17-10/mf_deadhand?currentPage=all

[iDemo]

Za pomoc u razumevanju odnosa izmedju CCCP i "ostatka sveta" - ono - hardcore brojke & slova...

Veliki promasaj - rodjenje i kraj komunizma u XX veku by Zbignjev-Bzezinski (1989)

https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/50910305/1989_Veliki%20promasaj%20-%20rodjenje%20i%20kraj%20komunizma%20u%20XX%20veku%20by%20Zbignjev-Bzezinski.pdf

[Prospero]

 

 

"Socialism is what serves as the reliable launching pad from which the Soviet Union sends its powerful, advanced space ships into outer space."

  Newspaper Pravda, 17 August 1962

 

 

In August 1964, trying to catch up with the Apollo program, the Soviet Union launched its own lunar project. A new spacecraft code named 7K-L1 (later publicly named Zond) was developed for a circumlunar flight. It included - for the first time in a Soviet piloted spacecraft - an onboard electronic digital computer, the Argon-11S. Like its American counterpart, the Apollo Guidance Computer, the Argon was a radical innovation, which posed many difficult questions of technology, organization, and man-machine interaction.

 

This website complements the Apollo Guidance Computer History Project by documenting the history of onboard computers and man-machine interaction in the Soviet space program. The aim of this website is to use web technology to create a dynamic multi-thread interactive historical account of computers, institutions, and personalities involved in one of the most advanced technological projects of the twentieth century with limited technical resources and under strong political pressure.

 

The Iron Curtain separated the Apollo and the Argon computer projects from each other. This website aspires to bring American and Russian veteran engineers together for a meaningful dialogue.

 

This material is based upon work supported by the National Science Foundation (NSF) under Grant No. 0313044. Any opinions, findings and conclusions or recommendations expressed in this material are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of the NSF.

 

For a detailed layout of the site, see sitemap.

 

New items:

• Introduction by Slava Gerovitch
• Yurii Tiapchenko, "IDS for Mir and Soyuz" 
• Comparison of Vostok and Mercury

[iDemo]

...

In August 1964, trying to catch up with the Apollo program, the Soviet Union launched its own lunar project. A new spacecraft code named 7K-L1 (later publicly named Zond) was developed for a circumlunar flight. It included - for the first time in a Soviet piloted spacecraft - an onboard electronic digital computer, the Argon-11S. Like its American counterpart, the Apollo Guidance Computer, the Argon was a radical innovation, which posed many difficult questions of technology, organization, and man-machine interaction.

This website complements the Apollo Guidance Computer History Project by documenting the history of onboard computers and man-machine interaction in the Soviet space program. The aim of this website is to use web technology to create a dynamic multi-thread interactive historical account of computers, institutions, and personalities involved in one of the most advanced technological projects of the twentieth century with limited technical resources and under strong political pressure.

 

The Iron Curtain separated the Apollo and the Argon computer projects from each other. This website aspires to bring American and Russian veteran engineers together for a meaningful dialogue.

 

This material is based upon work supported by the National Science Foundation (NSF) under Grant No. 0313044. Any opinions, findings and conclusions or recommendations expressed in this material are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of the NSF.

...

 

 

Ima zanimljivo "citanje" istorije na tu temu gde se kaze da je CCCP lansirao prvi satelit, prvo kuche, prvo mache, prvog majmuna, pa zatim coveka, pa zenu i dalje redom tako da je rip Kenediju - kad je to sve video - ono - njegov "sputnik moment" - ostalo samo da proglasi "idemo na Mesec" ne bi li se nekako 'oprao'... U to vreme CCCP svemirski program (Korolev & co) vec odavno nije imao podrsku potrebnu da se "radovi" ozbiljno nastave...

Inace - pravi CCCP veterani 'znaju'™ da je Apolo bio na Mesecu al' kazu nesto kao "grdne pare su dali samo da bi doneli (pun) dzak kamenja"... Kiselo grozdje ili nesto slicno...

[namenski]

Gde sam ja rekao da je to bilo gde dobro?

У Русији, наравно  :P

Него те разочаравају, оће каке, неће каке, ех да је ту неко од оних старих маршала, па Политбиро, па да видимо чија мајка црну вуну преде.

Сад би се Немци тукли између себе, оно источни део, западни део, а свет би стрепео од упада бескрајних колона најбољих тенкова на свету изнад којих лете најбољи авиони на свету...

 

 

@ pantelija: ne mesaj se, ovo se Slow i ja malo relaksiramo od letnjih vrucina uobicajenih za ovo doba godine.

Edited August 13, 2014 by namenski

[Lord Protector]

 

 

 

 

Baš lepa slika. A tek miris napalma u stepi

[namenski]

Baš lepa slika. A tek miris napalma u stepi

Pojma ti nemas, napalm je za mekusce.

Stepa, oblaci prasine koji se dizu odajuci tako tragove beskrajnih motorizovanih kolona koje se valjaju na zapad...

 

Mada, severnonemacka ravnica, cisti i umiveni nemacki gradici, autobanovi i sovjetska, ups ruska pesadija i tenkovske posade kako smorene puse oslonjene o svoja vozila, cekajuci da avijacija prokrci put kroz neki tamo Duisburg...

Horde isbeglica koje opsedaju zapadnoevropske luke, od Denkerka do Bijarica, cene brodskog prevoza skocile u nebo, kako i ne bi jer su aerodromi zatvoreni dok avijacija sa zvezdama na krilima suvereno vlada nebom.

CNN osoblje neprekidno izvestava uprkos huci mlaznjaka iznad njihovih glava....

Malobrojne americke jedinice, razbijene i demoralisane, ali odlucnih lica i muski stegnutih vilica, koracaju probijajuci se kroz kolone izbeglica u pokusaju da se dokopaju neke od luka.

Oni koji su uspeli, oslonjeni na ogradu broda koji ih odnosi daleko od Evrope i zagledani u zadimljeni horizont, samo procede kroz zube 'vraticemo se'.

 

[Lord Protector]

Naravno da Rusi neće propast, ali će biti, riječima zapadnih partnera, stavljeni na svoje mjesto. Na razinu Azerbejdžana ili Kirgistana.

 

Da ne govorimo  tome da će vjerojatno na kraju skuplje proć. Jer sankcije već imaju. I nema niti jedan razlog zašto bi Kijev stao nakon "oslobađanja Donjecka i Luganska i veličanstvene pobjede nad ruskim agresorom". Onda naravno, slijedi Krim. I šta će onda napravit? Apelirat svojim zapadnim partnerima da im dozvole slanje humanitarne pomoći? 

 

Upravo tako. Impotentna spoljna politika Rusije se nastavlja, NATO ih kako vreme prolazi sve više okružuje i u završnoj fazi načeće i poslednju liniju odbrane, države koje se neposredno graniče sa Rusijom, Robert Gejts je to nazvao ''buffer states''. U stvari, sa ovim dešavanjima u Ukrajini to načinjanje je upravo počelo. O tome su pričali Robert Gejts i Madlen Olbrajt na onoj raspravi u Aspen institutu koji sam postovao ranije. Ako to već znaš, onda nemoj da se bakćeš po Latinskoj Americi i Siriji već štiti svoje vitalne interese. Posle Ukrajine na red dolazi Kazahstan, posle Kazahstana Belorusija. Game over.

Rusija je trebala da preuzme taktiku jednog Kenedija za vreme kubanske krize. Ako hoćeš da prčkaš po mom dvorištu imaš da se suočiš direktno sa mnom a ne preko jebenog proksija. Zgaziću i tebe i tvog proksija i sve koji mi stavljate nagaznu minu ispred ulaznih vrata. Da vidimo ko će da se usudi posle toga da nastavi provokacije.

Edited August 13, 2014 by slow