Winds of War?

Winds of War?  

By Paolo Falconio  

Member of the Honorary Governing Council and Lecturer at the Society of International Studies (SEI)

While Trump says things I no longer dwell on—since it’s clear he might say the exact opposite tomorrow—I’d like to offer a few thoughts on the imminence of war, which seems to dominate not only the media but broader discourse.

The first point is political: a Congressional vote authorizing America to go to war, whether against or with Trump’s support, would imply a cohesive majority—something currently lacking in the United States. There are at least two, if not three, right-wing factions in America. They differ not only on the country’s strategic posture but also on which adversaries to prioritize. This fragmented political landscape has serious implications for the reliability of U.S. security policies in terms of honoring commitments and maintaining strategic coherence—especially at a time when allies are being asked to take on greater risks in support of American foreign policy.

Next, we must think in realist terms. From my perspective, wars depend on two factors: people and industrial/technological capacity. The conflict in Ukraine has exposed a vulnerability in the West—both in terms of personnel and industrial base. The data provided by the RAND Corporation are stark: U.S. and European dependence on Chinese critical materials (rare metals) for advanced technological systems; production lines significantly less capable than Russia’s (not to mention China’s); and a fragile supply chain, where a single component produced by one company can bottleneck the entire system. In some cases, capabilities have even been lost. A telling example is the Stinger shoulder-fired anti-aircraft missiles, whose production line had been shut down. Raytheon, faced with renewed demand, had to recall engineers now in their seventies. Much has been done since 2022 to increase production capacity, but sustaining the pace of high-intensity warfare is a long process. It takes years—and in the immediate term, for some systems, the priority is to replenish strategic stockpiles.

Let’s be clear: America retains a capacity—underestimated by many—to project destruction globally like no other. But the problem is that if you want to defend Taiwan, you have to go to China. Same with Russia. And without a solid industrial base, you may find yourself in trouble. U.S. destructive potential is built on Blitzkrieg theories—logics that are hard to apply against powers like Russia and China, which possess territorial depth, resilience, and political will. Europe, lacking military and technological autonomy, remains subordinate to American strategy and incapable of sustaining a prolonged conflict on its own.

Then there’s the human factor, which represents another limitation: the reduction of military personnel in Western armies reflects the post-Cold War adoption of a “post-historical” paradigm à la Fukuyama, where high-intensity conventional wars were assumed to be obsolete. But the issue runs deeper and concerns societies shaped by globalization. We have exalted the most corrosive forms of individualism at the expense of collective spirit. In contrast, Russia and other revisionist powers show a willingness to endure significant losses, embedding sacrifice within a historical and identity-based narrative. To be clear, this contrast should not be oversimplified: even in authoritarian systems, human cost weighs heavily and generates internal tensions—but the phenomenon is more contained. And we are facing societies willing to pay in blood and eager to be written into history books. The result? Russia recruits an average of 30,000 men annually in a wartime context, while the Royal Navy cannot even meet the basic personnel requirements to operate its naval assets. This applies, with few exceptions, across the West. Changing this mindset will take time and a new strategic pedagogy.

So why so much fear?

This dynamic increases the potential for escalation, with the real danger that Moscow, perceiving an existential threat, might resort to tactical nuclear weapons as a deterrent tool—creating an interdiction zone to end what it sees as a siege at its borders. “Tactical nuclear weapon” is a euphemism, as it can be up to ten times more powerful than the Hiroshima bomb. Know that during the war in Ukraine, we came very close—and only an agreement to evacuate Russian troops from Kherson prevented its use.

Finally, the public narrative of war risks fueling dangerous polarization: reducing conflict to stadium-style cheering and dehumanizing the enemy lowers containment thresholds and increases the risk of an uncontrolled incident escalating into direct confrontation. Recent events—whether provocations or false flags—cannot be considered attacks, and NATO itself says so. Yet media and some governments seem to be searching for a media-driven casus belli to support policies that may even be justified, but in doing so amplify the risk that someone on the front line loses their nerve—and a real casus belli emerges. In this context, international stability increasingly depends on the ability of major powers to manage and respect their respective spheres of influence without crossing implicit red lines.

What surprises me is that the fire hasn’t already broken out—and the saddest part is that there are questions without answers. Why would the Russians invade us? Is NATO truly just a defensive alliance, or is it assuming a global “policing” role? And above all: does the strategic interest in supporting certain conflict scenarios justify the risks of escalation? Lastly—and perhaps the most important reflection—have we won or are we losing the war in Ukraine? Because, in my view, perhaps coincidentally, but from BRICS to the SCO, since the outbreak of hostilities, these organizations have experienced a remarkable surge. A dynamic that signals the gradual transition toward a multipolar order, in which American hegemony is being challenged.

Ultimately, alongside investments in weaponry—which are essential when facing a neighbor with 1.5 million troops—there must be parallel investments in a political culture capable of preventing escalation and the proliferation of conflicts.