Would Putin press the nuclear button?

THIS week when the Kremlin increased its sabre rattling by threatening the use of nuclear weapons, I took my baby grandson for a stroll in his pram up our Exmoor valley. A grandfather, a tiny baby, two dogs, a lot of birdsong, and not much else – it seemed to be the absolute antithesis of all the evil and craziness in the world.

Rather than bombs, thank God, the only thing falling from the skies were occasional acorns departing from their oaks – and enough of them were dropping to make me wonder if Sonny was safe under his awning. He cooed gently in that charming way babies have, and just over the stream two wood-pigeons were also cooing, because that’s what wood-pigeons do, morning, noon ’til night.

What I was thinking, as I hummed a lullaby, was this: I bet myself (because there was no one else to bet with other than a baby, a pair of hounds and a brace of wood pigeons) that 99.9% of the people would agree that the act of manufacturing a war out of nothing but illusory vainglory is the most horrific and unwelcome thing any individual could ever impose upon humanity.

Most of us would be ready and willing to fight to defend ourselves and our families – but the idea of launching a conflict upon a people, a place, a country or a region, where there was no war before, seems absolutely mad. In my opinion only a certifiable nutter would do it.

Yet threat of an escalating war has dominated the airwaves since the Queen’s funeral. Serious, experienced and clever people are actually asking if he’d really do it? Would Putin press the nuclear button?

Knowing that there are always two sides to a story I have tried to imagine why the ruling Russian clique feel so threatened, and how they’ve managed to convince so many of their countrymen to feel the same way?

I am aware, for example, that many people who read this newspaper feel a deep nostalgia for the “old days” – and it can only be reasonable to assume that many older Russians recall with some fondness the old Soviet Union, where at least life may have seemed devoid of uncertainty. Back then, strict communist edicts controlled everything – they knew where they stood – a thing humans seem to like, even if knowing where you stand means being knee-deep in a freezing bog.

From what I understand, society in that vast country today is built very much on shifting sands. There is government-manufactured darkness. Oppression. No one can really be sure of anything. But that occurs in plenty of other countries... It’s hardly an excuse to go to a war – especially one built upon the loony idea that a single nation can grab back its old empire.

Imagine if Britain were to attempt such a thing. “We fear that our steady old imperial ways are under universal threat, so we have decided to reannex India. While we’re at it we’ll take back Canada, Malaysia and much of Africa. You must understand, we’re only doing this to protect our way of life.”

Added to that craziness, the idea you can invade another nation in order to bring stability to your own people is obviously bonkers. I can’t get my head around it – but then I can’t understand a million other contemporary ideas either. Like allowing greedy bankers to once again stick their noses in the trough.

Ms Truss seems to believe in that weary old concept that greed is good. The argument seems to be that clever wealth-creating folk will always suffer from a kind of incurable laziness unless a golden carrot is dangled in front of them. Only when they see an opportunity to grab huge wealth do these wondrous individuals wake from their slumbers – and, when they do, they are so incredibly active and innovative they create vast wealth. So much, indeed, there are plenty of crumbs around the table for the rest of us.

If you think self-seeking greed is the way to cure the NHS, social care, pay for an increasingly expensive defence budget and mend roads, etc, you’ve got another thing coming. Yes, some fat-cats might bite the carrot and invest in Britain – but, as we all know, wealth creation for many of them means taking their money straight out of Britain and investing it in offshore tax havens.

Talking of mending roads, by the way, I beg to understand – not for the first time – why it is that the county of Somerset (in particular) feels it necessary to close public highways at the drop of a hat. This week two out of the three ways I leave West Somerset to reach mid-Devon were blocked by “road closed” signs. The other day I took someone to Shepton Mallet and was forced to find four diversions to cope with road closures. The practice of shutting highways did not used to be common – indeed it was a rarity. Why, with modern equipment and technology, is it happening on a daily basis now?

Right... having got that off my chest I would go back to walking the baby, but my daughter has taken him home – so I’ll take a well-earned snooze instead, before someone dangles a golden carrot at the end of my stick.

The idea you can invade another nation in order to bring stability to your own people is obviously bonkers