The noise coming out of London and Washington right now is not diplomacy. It is choreography.
The British Defence Secretary John Healey is already talking about sending troops to Ukraine “after the conflict.” Spare us the theatre. British personnel were in Ukraine long before the SMO, training forces and embedding themselves into the conflict. The idea that London is some neutral actor waiting responsibly on the sidelines is an insult to anyone paying attention.
At the same time, Brussels is outraged that Russia will not allow Europe a seat at the negotiating table. Why would it? The EU has functioned less as a mediator and more as a logistics arm for escalation. Non-entities do not get to dictate terms.
Meanwhile, the real fractures are appearing inside Europe itself.
Slovakia has threatened to cut emergency electricity supplies to Ukraine if oil transit through the Druzhba pipeline is not restored. Hungary signalled it could halt diesel supplies. Both are directly exposed to disruptions caused by Kyiv’s handling of the pipeline. For all the moral posturing about unity, when energy security is threatened, national interest suddenly reappears.
Europe talks solidarity. But when diesel stops flowing, reality intrudes.
And while this drama plays out in Eastern Europe, the far bigger story is unfolding further south.
Military refuelling aircraft are moving. Carrier groups are repositioning. The USS Gerald R. Ford has been deployed forward. The rhetoric from Washington has hardened dramatically. Former intelligence officials are openly discussing the inevitability of strikes on Iran.
The propaganda pattern is painfully familiar.
We are hearing about heroic protesters. We are hearing about a “ruthless regime.” We are hearing the word genocide used with the same casual repetition that preceded the destruction of Libya in 2011.
Back then, the West at least pretended to consult the UN before reducing a functioning state to rubble. Today, even the pretence appears optional.
If this escalates, the myth of the outsider president collapses with it. Donald Trump has supporters who insist every move is 5D chess. But if bombs fall on Tehran, it will not be chess. It will be the same old playbook. Different face. Same suits behind the curtain.
Vladimir Putin once observed that American presidents may speak freely during campaigns, but eventually they do what the system demands. If Iran becomes the next Libya, that observation will look less like commentary and more like prophecy.
The silence in the West is striking. There are no mass protests. No urgency. Just apathy, carefully cultivated over years of narrative conditioning.
Energy markets are already twitching. Oil traders are watching. If strikes begin, petrol prices will not ask for political affiliation before they rise.
This is not about democracy. It is not about human rights. It is about control, leverage, and the preservation of a unipolar order that is slipping.
Russia understands this. That is why Moscow refuses to legitimise European theatrics in negotiations and why it watches the Middle East with cold realism.
The coming days will reveal whether Washington steps back or repeats history. But the pieces are moving. And when they move like this, it is rarely for peace.
