Peace, Putin, and NATO

A viewer left the above comment under one of my recent videos. It’s not the first time I’ve heard this—and I doubt it’ll be the last. This narrative has gained traction in the U.S. over the past few years: that NATO expansion is the real problem, that the United States provoked Putin, and that Russia is simply reacting to Western aggression. The narrative portrays Putin as an innocent bystander, merely trying to protect his nation from external threats. President Trump recently added to this narrative by claiming it was Ukraine that attacked Russia, not the other way around.

The simplistic logic in this narrative feels convincing, but only if you close your eyes to recent events. The reality is that this distorted narrative obscures a darker truth lurking beneath the surface—a truth that, if ignored, will ultimately destroy free nations across the globe.

The truth is that Russia wasn’t provoked into war. On the contrary, it spent decades preparing for—and waging—wars of conquest.

To believe the myth, you have to ignore a long record of active Russian aggression—often dressed up in the language of peacekeeping, ethnic solidarity, or humanitarian concern. These aggressions constitute strategic moves designed to destabilize neighbors and expand Russian influence while maintaining plausible deniability to the rest of the world.

A few examples of this aggression are in order, starting with Chechnya. After a failed attempt at independence in the early 1990s, Chechnya became the target of two brutal wars. When Vladimir Putin took power in 1999, he launched the Second Chechen War under the pretense of fighting terrorism. In reality, it was a campaign of annihilation. Entire cities like Grozny were flattened. Tens of thousands of civilians were killed or disappeared. Reports of torture, mass graves, and human rights violations flooded humanitarian agencies over the world. Putin crushed the separatist movement and installed a puppet regime. His message was clear: break away from Moscow, and we will destroy you.

Another example can be found in Georgia. In 2008, Russia asserted that it was acting to protect ethnic minorities in the breakaway regions of Abkhazia and South Ossetia, claiming the Georgian government threatened them. However, subsequent international investigations revealed no evidence of genocide or mass atrocities committed by Georgia, rendering Russia’s justification tenuous at best. The invasion primarily resulted in a lasting military presence in the South Caucasus, with two Georgian regions still under the occupation of Russian forces today.

In Belarus, no tanks were needed. When dictator Alexander Lukashenko rigged his re-election in 2020 and faced mass protests, Putin stepped in with loans, propaganda support, and the threat of force. In return, Lukashenko handed over control of his country’s political future. Today, Belarus functions less as a sovereign state and more as a launchpad for Russian operations—quite literally, in the case of the 2022 invasion of Ukraine.

Then came Crimea in 2014. Russian troops, clad in unmarked uniforms, flooded into Ukrainian territory under the pretense of protecting Russian-speaking populations. Moscow asserted that Crimea had always belonged to Russia and that its annexation was merely rectifying a historical injustice. However, that narrative overlooked the fact that Crimea was internationally recognized as part of Ukraine—and that Russia had signed treaties pledging to respect Ukraine’s borders. The annexation wasn’t about protection; it was about conquest.

Based on the above examples, Putin’s playbook seems to consist of the following:

• Use disinformation to create a pretext.

• Claim to be the protector of minorities or victims.

• Frame invasions as defensive operations.

• Finally, entrench military and political control under the fog of confusion.

And yet, people still blame NATO. This is where the narrative of a benevolent Russia twists into a pretzel. Despite all the aggression, despite the invasions, despite the lies and propaganda, there are still those who claim it was NATO that provoked Russia.

Yes, NATO expanded eastward after the Cold War. But it did so not through conquest or coercion—but because sovereign nations lined up to join. These nations did so because they remembered the heavy boot of Russian occupation and because they watched Russia’s resurgence with growing alarm. From the Baltics to the Balkans, joining NATO wasn’t a power grab but a shield. It was an insurance policy against authoritarianism.

The idea that NATO expansion was some sinister Western plot also hinges on one key claim: that the U.S. broke a promise not to expand “one inch eastward.” But that claim doesn’t hold up to historical fact.

In 1990, U.S. Secretary of State James Baker made an offhand comment about NATO not expanding, but only in the context of East Germany and only if the Soviets allowed German reunification under NATO. That phrase was never written into any treaty; it was never formalized. Furthermore, Gorbachev himself later admitted that no promise was made regarding Eastern Europe.

In fact, in 1997, Russia signed the NATO-Russia Founding Act, which acknowledged NATO’s right to expand and committed both sides to peaceful cooperation.

There was no betrayal—only a power shift. And that’s what Putin truly resents. Not broken promises, but lost influence. Not NATO’s growth, but Russia’s shrinking ability to dictate terms. Not NATO provocation, but Putin’s passion to reconstitute the old Soviet Union.

The bottom line is that when someone claims that “Europe had peace with Putin,” what they really mean is that Putin hadn’t yet come for their country. But the signs were always there. The invasions, the occupations, the assassinations, the suppression of dissent—they weren’t reactions to NATO. They were the deliberate acts of a regime determined to rebuild a sphere of control.

Indeed, NATO has its faults, including the requirement that member nations contribute 2% of their GDP to a growing military-industrial complex and the corporate feeding frenzy it fuels. Yet, despite its shortcomings, NATO remains one of the few institutions that credibly opposes Russian expansionist ambition. NATO didn’t create the threat; it responded to it. The nations that joined NATO didn’t do so because they were deceived; they did it because they were paying attention.

And now, we need to pay attention, too.

Because the idea that NATO provoked Russia—that the West is to blame for this war—isn’t just misinformation, it may be something far more intentional: propaganda. Russia’s disinformation machine is one of the most sophisticated in the world. Its tactics are subtle, emotional, and designed to divide. Its fingerprints are all over our media landscape—from troll farms to bot networks to right-wing echo chambers dressed up as “news.”

We’ve even seen prominent American media figures, like Tucker Carlson, openly defend Russia’s position—often echoing Kremlin talking points almost verbatim. These aren’t just random coincidences. They are part of a larger strategy: weaken NATO, fracture the West, and erode the public’s will to resist authoritarianism.

This article isn’t just about setting the record straight. It’s about cutting through the noise, challenging narratives that have already taken root, and reaching those who still care about facts, sovereignty, and truth. Because if we don’t push back, these narratives will spread. And if they spread far enough, the next victim of Russia’s propaganda machine won’t be Ukraine. It will be us.