Krasnov’s New World

Recently, social media erupted with the claim that U.S. President Donald Trump had been recruited into the KGB in 1987 and given the operative codename “Krasnov.” The source of this shocking revelation was Alnur Musaev, a former head of Kazakhstan’s intelligence service, who in his younger years served in the KGB’s 6th Directorate in Moscow. That division was responsible for counterintelligence operations in the economic sphere, with one of its main goals being the recruitment of businessmen from capitalist countries. According to Musaev, Trump — then a 40-year-old New York real estate investor — was one such recruit.

Musaev dropped this bombshell where else but on Facebook. Despite the supposed credibility of the source, I thought it wise to verify the claim before writing about it. In the spirit of our times, I turned to artificial intelligence and used Elon Musk’s Grok app. And lo and behold — Trump’s very own pet AI estimated the likelihood that he’s a Russian agent somewhere between 75% and 85%. At last, everything explained. Trump is compromised and blackmailed.

Despite Musaev and Grok, I remain skeptical. I believe a conspiracy theory remains a conspiracy theory — even if it suits my emotional needs. There simply isn’t enough evidence to assert that Trump is a Russian agent. But that’s not the real question. The question we should ask is: If Trump were a Russian agent, would he behave any differently than he does now? And the answer, of course, is no. So if his cruelty toward the victim of aggression and sympathy for the aggressor are not the result of kompromat, then we must logically look for the motivation elsewhere.

In my view, it lies in the ideological convergence between these two “best friends forever.” Trump feels close to Putin. He wants to be his friend and ally. This was made painfully clear in his emotional reaction to Zelensky’s words in the Oval Office, and in his follow-up statement the next day: “Zelensky is always speaking badly about Putin,” he complained indignantly — about the president of a nation that has been a victim of Russian aggression for over a decade.

Trump wants to be Putin. Or Kim Jong Un. He doesn’t want to be a president — he wants to be a ruler. He expects blind loyalty and admiration. During his last meeting with Kim, he said he wished his subordinates treated him the same way North Koreans venerate their Supreme Leader. And now, he’s making that happen. First, he North-Koreanized the Republican Party — and now he’s doing the same with the entire U.S. state and public apparatus. Just look at the eruptions of idolatry from his aides after the meeting with Zelensky. Secretary of State Marco Rubio — supposedly one of the “moderates” in Trump’s cabinet — slouched on the couch during the meeting like someone who’d just been conditionally released from a re-education camp.

Trump wants to be Putin because they share imperial ambitions. A Russian victory in Ukraine sets a precedent — paving the way for a possible Anschluss of Canada, control of the Panama Canal and Greenland, and a real estate project in Gaza. The tragicomic paradox is that in Slovenia, the most fervent anti-American and anti-imperialist voices are now the most ardent supporters of the American imperialist — at least as seen through their view of the Ukraine conflict.

Trump wants to be Putin because they share the same worldview. This isn’t just some columnist’s inflated rhetoric. The Financial Times published an analysis showing that under Trump, the Republican Party’s value system is now aligned with Putin’s Russia — and even further to the right than many of Europe’s far-right parties. (Although perhaps the analysis didn’t include all of them.)

Trump and Putin are allies in a global jihad against “cultural Marxism” — which is the Alpine equivalent of what Americans call “wokeness,” and the Russians label as the corrupt and decadent West threatening the purity and survival of the holy Russian people. Different labels, same content. It’s a war against everything that forms the foundation of a free, open, successful democratic society.

The state, the nation, and the leader are supposedly threatened by: trans people (blah blah blah), journalists (blah blah blah), migrants (blah blah blah), LGBTQ+ communities (blah blah blah), environmentalists (blah blah blah), NGOs (blah blah blah), feminists (blah blah blah)… It’s an ideologically framed revenge campaign by frustrated white men. A sledgehammer to reshape the world into a transactional jungle, where brute force overrides international norms, borders, individual rights and freedoms, and human dignity.

Trump wants to be Putin — and Putin wants Trump. This ideological bromance is putting much of Slovenia’s political spectrum in a bind. The right is embarrassed because Trump embodies all the values of their political platform — except that he’s turned against Ukraine, a country they supported (out of conviction or opportunism) three years ago. They’re doing their best to manage the contradiction. The most amusing — and telling — attempt came from a “libertarian influencer” temporarily based in London, who claimed on X that left-wing extremists had forced Trump into what he’s doing. As in, “he didn’t want to, but had no choice.”

The comment is interesting because it hints at a potential 180-degree shift — essentially saying that in the global fight against cultural Marxism, sacrifices must be made. Like Ukraine. You can’t make a fascist omelet without breaking some liberal eggs.

The left, for its part, deals with the contradiction mostly by ignoring it. They love Trump because he’s doing to Ukraine everything they’ve long wanted and demanded. Aurelio Juri would award him the Nobel Peace Prize. MPs from the ruling coalition are forming a parliamentary friendship group with Russia. They don’t concern themselves with the ideological subtext or the inherent imperialism behind Trump’s undermining of Ukraine’s national liberation struggle. Since Trump is doing what they want in Ukraine, they project their rage at the U.S. onto Europe instead. That damn witch von der Leyen is to blame for everything. They don’t form their positions based on the real world — but on the world they wish existed. Like a bunch of sleep-deprived, Red Bull-fueled students playing SimCity all night, tweaking the parameters of reality as they build their utopia. Russia poses no threat, NATO is to blame for everything, Ukrainians are Nazis, and we’re safe because we don’t like war or spending on defense. And if SimCity crashes — because even a video game has limits — no problem. Reset. Play again.

With this kind of mindset, the Slovenian Prime Minister is, as I write this, heading to Brussels for talks on increasing defense spending in response to the Russian threat and the undermining of the European civilizational model built after WWII.

Many in Slovenia oppose higher defense spending because “we don’t like war.” It’s an appealing argument — but logically weak. It’s like believing that leaving your front door unlocked will protect you from burglars.

Yet in one crucial way, I agree with the skeptics. It would be suicidal to increase defense spending by cutting funding for environmental protection, education, international aid, science and research, and — most importantly — for a socially secure society where people have the material conditions to believe in a better future. It’s precisely the neglect of these foundations of democracy over recent decades that has led to the accumulation of dissatisfaction and anger toward democracy — anger now skillfully exploited by its enemies, especially in Moscow, against whom we seek to arm ourselves.

But investments in drones, tanks, and cannons to protect European democracy from external danger will be useless if they deepen the hole eating away at democracy from within. We’re not living in a computer game. In today’s dangerous world, there is no reset button. If we crash, it’s game over for democracy in Europe.