We’re plunged back into grim Cold War times
At time of writing, we have yet to declare full scale war on Russia. If you’re actually reading this, it’s probably a good sign we’ve managed to avoid entering some sort of conflict, although events could still take a turn.
I realise these opening lines could have been written in 1983. Back then, the threat of nuclear annihilation loomed large. The then Soviet Union was ruled by a succession of sinister-looking men with enormous eyebrows who appeared to permanently on their deathbeds - even when they were saluting a parade of missiles through Red Square - and would happily flick the switch to take the rest of us with them.
The events of the last couple of weeks have brought back a grim kind of Cold War nostalgia. Of course, we can only afford to get all nostalgic about the Cold War because it ended peacefully and relatively happily (unless you were an executed Communist despot, obviously). Being in a state of open hostility with Russia is clearly a lot less fun when you’re actually living through it and unsure whether it will end with a firm handshake or an imposing mushroom cloud.
Vladimir Putin is a very different kind of Russian leader, as we all know. He’s more bed of nails than deathbed, with his laughable ‘action man’ image.
Putin seems to think voters will be highly impressed if he’s seen wrestling a bear or eating a bowl of extra hot chillies. Although - he’s been in power for the best part of 20 years. I’m surprised no politician over here has gone for the same tactic, although I guess it ended badly when Boris Johnson got caught on that zipwire and Neil Kinnock tried going for a walk on the beach, so our would-be leaders tend to play it safe. If any of them ever tried going topless on horseback, it would surely end badly. I’m not sure what I’d think of a politician who went out of his or her way to pull open a crocodile’s jaws or jump over a load of doubledecker buses on a motorbike (I haven’t checked but these are all things I assume Putin has done). Part of me would inevitably sneer, while at the same time harbouring a sneaky feeling