The Trump Administration wants new economic relations with Russia, while Europeans are digging further into their hawkish position against Moscow. At the St Petersburg International Economic Forum in early June, Kremlin special envoy Kirill Dmitriev announced the signing of a formal memorandum of understanding to go forward with the tunnel under the Bering Strait, between Alaska and Russia’s Far East. The UK and Germany, along with Poland and the Baltic states, have reacted sharply, denouncing the idea as a “geopolitical Trojan Horse” that will sell out Ukraine.
It illustrates the widening strategic divide between Washington and Europe: The Trump administration increasingly views economic cooperation with rival powers as a tool of stability, while many European governments continue to prioritise military pressure on Russia.
It can be hard to find a coherent strategy behind the actions of Donald Trump. After promising to avoid new wars he joined Benjamin Netanyahu in a failed attempt at regime change in Iran, which – in Trump’s own words – had to end because the closure of the Strait of Hormuz threatened “world-wide depression” or a market crash like 1929. Yet on Russia the US president has been consistent. He did not end the war in 24 hours as promised during the campaign, but he has repeatedly sought economic cooperation as an alternative to continued escalation.
The underlying logic is simple: Make money, not war, which also reflects a broader trend that could help avoid a dangerous clash between competing superpowers. With China, Trump has backed off his more aggressive language, agreeing on the creation of mechanisms to regulate trade and mutual investment. While on Russia the idea expressed during his first term – not to push Moscow and Beijing into an anti-Western dependency – is still alive among the realists in his administration. This means proposals for partnerships on strategic minerals, collaborative ventures in natural gas and oil exploration, and also greater coordination on digital technologies and space exploration.
The flagship project is the Bering Strait Tunnel, an idea originally proposed in 1892 by French engineer Joseph Strauss and later backed by Russian Tsar Nicholas II. The proposal was revived this century by Russian leaders and elements of the US institutions, as part of the vision of a globally connected transportation network. It would involve a 112-kilometer rail and cargo corridor under the Strait, to be built in a period of eight years at a cost which, according to the Kremlin, could be as low as $8 billion (€7 billion) thanks to the technology used by Elon Musk’s The Boring Company.
For the Trump team this means creating a new relationship which goes beyond the strategic clash in Ukraine, to be solved with an agreement recognising Russia’s hold on much of the Donbas region, but also increasing US economic involvement in the rest of Ukraine. Supporters argue that this would provide a degree of assurance for Kiev by increasing American economic involvement in the country after the war.
The Europeans don’t like it. Apart from criticising natural resource deals as “colonial-style” exploitation and undermining the so-called Green Transition, critics have derided the plan as an empty geopolitical fantasy, arguing that only strong NATO security guarantees can ensure Ukraine’s future.
The divide is clear: a realist approach seeking a compromise between the two sides to be followed by economic cooperation, or an ideological barrier against making any sort of deal with Vladimir Putin, while searching for ways to impose a “strategic defeat” on Russia, as stated by leaders such as Emmanuel Macron of France, Andrzej Duda of Poland, and former NATO Secretary General Jens Stoltenberg.
The prevailing view among the hawks is that the West needs to prepare for war with Moscow. Outgoing Prime Minister Keir Starmer of the UK and current NATO head Mark Rutte say that Russia could attack a NATO country within the next five years, a claim repeated by defence officials from Germany, Denmark and other countries. The risk is to fall into circular reasoning: As Europe ups its assistance to Ukraine, becoming more of a party to the war, the Russians point out that the West has essentially joined the conflict, and warn that this could lead to escalation down the road. The enhanced role is presented as a moral imperative, justifying the significant rise in military aid in recent months. The UK, in particular, has been instrumental, providing Storm Shadow long-range missiles which allow the Ukrainians to hit deep inside Russian territory.
To the hawks, it seems like a good idea to help Kiev bring the war home to Moscow. But they would do well to follow the internal debate in Russia more carefully: They’d find that such attacks mostly bolster the hard-line voices around the Kremlin, who are calling not for more negotiations, but for more bombing, including the use of even more powerful weapons. Making it an existential question for the Russians may satisfy the itch of those who seek regime change in Moscow, but it also risks causing precisely the type of escalation the hawks claim to fear.
So on goes the rush towards rearmament, with massive investments in military production regardless of a host of worrying factors: From the risks of a self-fulfilling prophecy, to imbalances within Europe – considering the re-militarisation of Germany – to regional differences given a lack of public support in the countries of South and Central Europe, such as Italy and Austria.
The key question is how far Brussels and London are willing to go in pursuit of a strategy centred on confrontation with Russia. An alternative route exists. Whether one agrees with Donald Trump or not, economic engagement is increasingly being presented in Washington as an alternative to permanent conflict.
