You can't deter Putin with 5,000 troops.
In the long arc of European history, warnings from the eastern periphery have often arrived too late to the comfortable center. Radek Sikorski — Polish statesman, former foreign minister, and lifelong student of Russian power — sits at that periphery now, watching a continent he believes is still not listening. His argument is not merely strategic but civilizational: that proximity to Russia is a form of knowledge, and that Europe's failure to translate that knowledge into military and democratic resolve may yet cost it dearly.
- Poland spends roughly one billion euros per year on defense for the entire continent — a figure Sikorski calls not just insufficient but almost absurd given the war unfolding on Europe's eastern edge.
- The bureaucratic tangle of moving military equipment across European borders — requiring successive government approvals for a single tank — reveals a continent whose institutions were built for peace, not deterrence.
- Sikorski warns that Europe's fortunate alignment of conditions — a fighting Ukraine, a supportive White House, no competing crisis — is fragile, and that a Trump return in 2024 could shatter it entirely.
- Poland's October 2023 election looms as an existential test: a third PiS term, Sikorski argues, would finish dismantling the last judicial barriers to authoritarian consolidation, stripping Poland of its democratic credibility at the very moment it should be leading Europe.
- On Nord Stream, Sikorski is unapologetic — calling its destruction 'a very good thing' and pointing to US intelligence warnings as circumstantial vindication, his wry mischief barely concealing a deeper conviction that the pipeline was always a geopolitical weapon aimed at European unity.
Radek Sikorski has spent years being right about Russia, and he finds little comfort in it. After a recent trip delivering trucks to soldiers near Kramatorsk, the former Polish foreign minister returned to his countryside study with the same message he has carried for decades — Europe is not prepared — and the same frustration that it still isn't being heard.
The numbers trouble him most. Poland's entire seven-year defense budget barely exceeds seven billion euros. The European Parliament's planned rapid-reaction force of five thousand troops by 2025 he calls a start, nothing more. What Europe needs, he insists, is a 'Schengen zone for tanks' — frictionless military mobility across borders — and genuine joint forces, not symbolic gestures. 'You can't deter Putin with 5,000 troops,' he said simply.
His clarity on Russia is rooted in history, not ideology. He grew up under communist rule in Bydgoszcz, fled to Britain after martial law, studied at Oxford, and returned to serve Poland through its post-communist transformation. 'We have had Russian soldiers looting and raping and imposing an alien political system on us, repeatedly, over 500 years,' he said. That experience, he argued, is why eastern Europeans read the threat differently — and correctly.
He sees Ukraine not as an isolated crisis but as the opening move in a larger pattern. Poland, he said, is 'western Europe's minefield.' He praised the EU's military aid commitments but was sharp about the months lost to indecision and the failure to sustain defense production lines. Europe's luck — Ukraine's resistance, Biden's support, no competing American crisis — has been real but cannot be counted on. With Trump competitive in 2024 polling, that luck may not hold.
At home, Poland faces its own reckoning. Sikorski, now an MEP with the centre-right opposition, warned that a third PiS term would complete the dismantling of democratic institutions — the courts being the last barrier still standing. Poland should be at its most influential moment in Europe, he argued, but nationalist governance and EU sanctions have left it punching far below its weight.
On Nord Stream, he was characteristically unrepentant. His infamous 'Thank you, USA' tweet after the 2022 pipeline explosions, he said, was a joke — but one with a serious undertone. Pointing to US intelligence reports warning of a plot months before the blasts, he concluded with a grin: 'The destruction of Nord Stream, as far as I'm concerned, was a very good thing.'
Radek Sikorski has grown weary of vindication. The former Polish foreign minister spent years warning that Vladimir Putin represented an existential threat to Europe—that Russian revisionism would eventually explode into open war. Western Europe dismissed him as alarmist, even Russophobic. Then Ukraine happened, and suddenly his warnings looked prescient. But sitting in a book-lined study in the Polish countryside after a recent trip to deliver trucks to soldiers near Kramatorsk, Sikorski seemed less interested in saying I told you so than in the fact that Europe still wasn't listening.
His frustration runs deep and specific. Poland's entire seven-year defense budget amounts to just over seven billion euros—roughly one billion per year for the entire continent. "You cannot get much of a defence for that," he told me flatly. The European Parliament has committed to a rapid-reaction force of five thousand troops by 2025, which he called a start but nothing close to sufficient. What Europe needs, he argued, is a "Schengen zone for tanks"—a system allowing military equipment to move across borders as freely as people and goods. Until recently, moving a single tank to the front line required approval from successive governments. The bureaucracy was absurd. More fundamentally, Europe needed joint military units, not token forces. "You can't deter Putin with 5,000 troops," he said. The math was simple: follow the money, and you see a continent unprepared for the threat on its doorstep.
Sikorski's assessment of this danger comes from lived history. He grew up in Bydgoszcz under communist rule, led a student strike committee in 1981, and fled to Britain after martial law was declared, eventually studying at Oxford alongside Boris Johnson and David Cameron. He returned to Poland as communism collapsed, served as defense minister, foreign minister, and speaker of parliament. His understanding of Russia is not theoretical. "If you are Portuguese, or Spanish, or Italian, then you have never had Russian soldiers in your country against your will, and you never will," he explained. "Whereas we have had them looting and raping and imposing an alien political system on us, repeatedly, over 500 years." Proximity breeds clarity. Realism about Russia grows in direct proportion to how close you live to it.
The immediate threat is Ukraine, but Sikorski sees the larger pattern. "First it's Ukraine, then it's Poland," he said. "We are western Europe's minefield." The war is happening just across Poland's eastern border. Soldiers and civilians there worry constantly about whether Western support will fade. Sikorski acknowledged the concern was legitimate, though he noted Poland maintains bipartisan consensus on staying the course, and support in the European Parliament remains solid. The EU has authorized more than twelve billion euros in military aid to Ukraine and will likely approve an additional twenty billion over the next four years. But he was angry at politicians who lacked the foresight to anticipate this would be a years-long conflict, who failed to quickly contract with defense companies to maintain production lines. "We've lost many, many months over useless dithering," he said.
Europe's luck, he argued, has been extraordinary and fragile. Ukraine fought back. Joe Biden occupied the White House. The United States wasn't otherwise engaged. "If any of these conditions did not apply, we would be in real trouble." With Donald Trump tied with Biden in recent polling and the 2024 election far from certain, that luck could evaporate. Sikorski, a former defense minister, knows the timescales involved in building military capacity. "There are decade-long challenges, and we are behind the curve."
But Poland itself faces an immediate reckoning. General elections are scheduled for October 15th, and the outcome could determine whether Polish democracy survives. The ruling Law and Justice party is seeking an unprecedented third term. Sikorski, now an MEP aligned with the centre-right opposition, was blunt: "I don't think Polish democracy can survive a third term of PiS." The party has already politicized the security services, the prosecution service, state television, even the army and the forestry commission. The courts remain the last institutional barrier. If PiS wins again, Sikorski said, they will break that barrier too. The European Court of Justice has already rebuked and fined the government for undermining judicial independence. He sees parallels with American political dysfunction—a core electorate that resembles "the Trumpian sect," willing to tolerate constitutional violations and corruption as long as their side wins.
Poland should be at its strongest moment in Europe. It is an indispensable logistics hub for Ukraine. It has been vindicated on the Russian threat. Yet a provincial nationalist government under Brussels sanctions means Poland is "punching way below its weight." The election will determine not only Poland's democratic future but its ability to shape European security discussions.
I saved my final question for last, half-expecting it might end the conversation. In September 2022, explosions destroyed the Nord Stream gas pipelines beneath the Baltic Sea. Sikorski, long critical of the Russia-Germany energy link, posted a cryptic tweet with a photo of the wreckage and the words: "Thank you, USA." It sparked fevered speculation about whether he possessed inside knowledge. A Russian foreign ministry spokesperson demanded clarification. He eventually deleted it. What had he meant?
"Well, that was meant as a joke and not everybody got it," he said with a wry grin. But then he pointed to the US intelligence leak from earlier in the year, which alleged that Washington had been warned about a plot to destroy Nord Stream three months before it happened. "So perhaps there was something we should be grateful to the United States for after all," he said, mischievously. "Because the destruction of Nord Stream, as far as I'm concerned, was a very good thing."
Citações Notáveis
I don't think Polish democracy can survive a third term of PiS. They have already subjugated and politicised the security services, the prosecution service, state television, even the army and the state forestry commission.— Radek Sikorski
We have been very lucky in this emergency: a) that Ukraine fought back, b) that Joe Biden was in the White House, and c) that the United States was not otherwise engaged. If any of these conditions did not apply, we would be in real trouble.— Radek Sikorski
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
You've spent decades warning about Russia. Does it feel vindicated now, or just exhausting?
Both. The exhausting part is that we were right, but being right doesn't automatically make people listen. Europe still isn't spending enough, still isn't moving fast enough. Vindication without action is just frustration.
You called Nord Stream's destruction "a very good thing." That's a strong statement about an act that could have been sabotage.
The pipeline was always a strategic mistake—it gave Russia leverage over Europe's energy security. Whether you're grateful to the US or not, the outcome serves European interests. That's what I meant.
Poland is about to vote. You're saying a third term for PiS would destroy democracy itself. That's not hyperbole?
It's not. They've already captured the security apparatus, the courts are next. Once those fall, there's no institutional check left. That's how democracies die—not with a bang, but through the slow politicization of every institution.
But PiS has supporters who believe they're defending Polish values. How do you reach them?
You don't, not anymore. That's the Trumpian part—the electorate has become tribal. They'll tolerate corruption, constitutional violations, anything, as long as their side wins. That's a different problem than persuasion.
Europe has committed billions to Ukraine. Why do you keep saying it's not enough?
Because I know how long it takes to build a military unit, to procure equipment. We're thinking in months when we should be thinking in years. We've lost months to bureaucracy and hesitation. That's time Ukraine doesn't have.
What happens to Poland's role in Europe if the election goes the wrong way?
Poland becomes irrelevant, despite being indispensable. We're the logistics hub, we've been right about Russia, we should be leading European security discussions. Instead, we'll be a provincial government under sanctions, punching way below our weight.