Everything he is capable of and wants to do, he will do in the next couple of years.
At a security conference in Riga, economist Roman Sheremeta offered the Baltic States a warning dressed as counsel: that the absence of imminent danger has been quietly mistaken for the absence of danger itself. Drawing on the bitter lesson of Ukraine — where disbelief in invasion proved catastrophic — he argued that Russia's stalling gains in that war may not signal exhaustion but redirection, and that a 10 percent probability of catastrophe is not a number any serious society should feel comfortable ignoring. The question he left hanging over the room was not whether NATO's collective defense promise exists on paper, but whether it would exist in practice when the moment arrived.
- Russia's propaganda already frames its conflict with Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia as an ongoing war — not a future threat — giving the Kremlin a domestic narrative that is half-built before any first shot is fired.
- A potential freeze on the Ukrainian front line could free significant Russian military capacity for redeployment within two and a half years, a window Sheremeta ties directly to the current political configuration in Washington.
- Baltic governments are strengthening defenses and supporting Ukraine, yet no serious public conversation exists about what a direct Russian attack would actually look like — a silence Sheremeta calls dangerous in itself.
- The Ukrainian precedent haunts the argument: parliamentarians with access to presidential-level intelligence dismissed invasion warnings as alarmism, and the cost of that dismissal was measured in hundreds of thousands of lives.
- NATO's Article 5 guarantee, Sheremeta suggested, currently resembles a paper tiger — European resources are stretched thin, American commitment is uncertain, and the gap between the promise of collective defense and its practical execution has rarely looked wider.
Roman Sheremeta, an economics professor at Case Western Reserve University, arrived at the Riga StratCom Dialogue 2026 with a message that was careful not to be alarmist — and all the more unsettling for it. The Baltic States, he acknowledged, are doing much of what they should: backing Ukraine, building defenses, pressing allies. But a dangerous silence persists. No one, he said, is seriously discussing what happens if Russia decides to come for them directly.
His argument rested on a crucial distinction: the absence of imminent threat is not the same as safety. After four years of grinding war in Ukraine, Russia's territorial gains have slowed and costs have mounted — but ambitions have not. "Putin has gotten almost everything he could from Ukraine," Sheremeta said. "He cannot gain anything more. But he can from the Baltic States." Russian state propaganda already describes the conflict with Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia, and Poland not as a hypothetical but as a war already underway, waiting to be made official. For a leader who needs domestic justification, that narrative is already half-constructed.
Sheremeta outlined a specific scenario: if the Ukrainian front line freezes into exhausted stalemate, Russia could redirect substantial military capacity toward the Baltics. He placed the probability at roughly 10 percent — not high, but not dismissible when the outcome would be catastrophic. The window, he assessed, is the next two and a half years, shaped by the current political climate in Washington.
The parallel he drew was the sharpest part of his warning. Before Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine, members of parliament with access to the same intelligence as President Zelensky dismissed the warnings as exaggeration. They were wrong, and the cost was measured in hundreds of thousands of lives. "Please do not dismiss the narratives that Russia is seriously considering attacking the Baltic States," he urged. The remedy was not panic but honest, regular public and political discussion — the kind that strengthens institutions before they are tested.
He reserved his most sobering skepticism for NATO's Article 5. The collective defense clause sounds reassuring in principle, but Sheremeta pressed on what it would mean in practice: would France deploy tens of thousands of troops? Would the United States intervene, or invoke past grievances as reason to stand aside? Europe has already spent heavily supporting Ukraine. "Right now, it resembles a paper tiger more," he said of the guarantee. These were his personal assessments, he was careful to note — not prophecies. But they were grounded in how the world actually functions, not in how we prefer to imagine it does.
Roman Sheremeta, an economics professor at Case Western Reserve University, sat down at the Riga StratCom Dialogue 2026 conference with a warning that landed somewhere between reassurance and alarm. The Baltic States, he told the LETA agency, are doing most things right. They back Ukraine consistently. They're building up their defenses. They're pushing their allies to take the region seriously. But there's a problem hiding in plain sight: nobody wants to talk about what might actually happen if Russia decides to come for them directly.
The absence of immediate danger, Sheremeta argued, is not the same as safety. Intelligence agencies say an invasion isn't imminent. That's true. But imminence and impossibility are different things entirely. He pointed to Russia's position in Ukraine as the real hinge point. After four years of war, Moscow has extracted most of what it can from that conflict. The territorial gains have slowed. The costs have mounted. And yet Russia still has ambitions. "Putin has gotten almost everything he could from Ukraine," Sheremeta said. "He cannot gain anything more. But he can from the Baltic States."
The rhetoric matters too. Russian propaganda channels don't speak hypothetically about the Baltics. They describe an ongoing conflict, a war already in progress against Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia, Poland, and other European nations. It's not framed as a future possibility but as a present reality waiting to be formalized. For a leader looking to justify military action to his own population, that narrative is already half the battle. "The Russian people will easily accept it," Sheremeta observed. "Russians will be glad. That's all Putin needs."
One scenario Sheremeta outlined involves the redeployment of Russian forces from Ukraine. If the front line there freezes—neither side gaining ground, both sides exhausted—Russia could theoretically redirect significant military capacity elsewhere. He was careful about probability. "When I say this is possible, I'm not claiming the probability is 90%. It's more like 10%," he said. But 10 percent of a catastrophic outcome is not negligible. And the window for such a move, in his assessment, is narrow: the next two and a half years, while Donald Trump occupies the White House. Political shifts in Washington could constrain Putin's options. "Everything he is capable of and wants to do, he will do in the next couple of years," Sheremeta explained.
He drew a parallel that cut deeper than most analysts would dare. Many Ukrainians didn't believe an invasion was coming either. Members of parliament, people with access to the same intelligence as President Volodymyr Zelensky, dismissed the warnings as alarmism. They were wrong. The cost of that disbelief was measured in hundreds of thousands of lives and millions of displaced people. "Please do not dismiss the narratives that Russia is seriously considering or may consider the possibility of attacking the Baltic States," Sheremeta urged. The solution, he argued, wasn't panic but honesty—regular discussion of these scenarios at both the political and public level, the kind of conversation that hardens institutions and sharpens response.
Then he turned to NATO's Article 5, the collective defense clause that binds the alliance together, and his skepticism was almost brutal. Invoking Article 5 after an attack on the Baltics sounds reassuring in theory. In practice, he asked, what does it mean? Does France suddenly deploy 20,000 soldiers? Does the United States intervene, or does it remind Europe of past grievances and withhold support? Europe has already spent enormous resources supporting Ukraine. The cupboard isn't empty, but it's getting bare. "Right now, it resembles a paper tiger more," he said of the collective defense guarantee. These were his personal assessments, he emphasized, not predictions of what will happen. But they were warnings rooted in how the world actually works, not how we wish it would.
Citações Notáveis
Putin has gotten almost everything he could from Ukraine. He cannot gain anything more. But he can from the Baltic States.— Roman Sheremeta
Many Ukrainians acted exactly like that. Members of the Ukrainian parliament did not believe it was possible. They were wrong.— Roman Sheremeta
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
You're saying the Baltic States are doing the right things but not saying the right things. What's the difference?
It's the difference between preparing for a storm and acknowledging that a storm might come. You can build stronger walls and stock supplies, but if you never say aloud that the storm is possible, you're not really preparing your people mentally. You're leaving them vulnerable to shock.
But isn't there a risk that talking openly about invasion just creates panic?
There's a difference between panic and readiness. Ukraine had warnings. Some people listened, some didn't. The ones who didn't were caught off guard. The ones who did had time to think, to plan, to move. Panic is reactive. Readiness is the opposite.
You mentioned Russia's propaganda is already framing this as an ongoing war. How does that change the calculus?
It's the groundwork. If your own people already believe you're at war with someone, actually going to war becomes easier to justify. The narrative does half the work for you. Putin doesn't have to convince Russians that the Baltics are a threat—his media already has.
What about NATO? Isn't that the whole point of the alliance?
In theory, yes. But theory and practice diverge when resources are stretched thin and political will is uncertain. If Europe is exhausted from Ukraine and the U.S. is led by someone skeptical of the alliance, Article 5 becomes a promise that might not be kept. That's not a prediction—it's a structural vulnerability.
So what should the Baltic States actually do?
Keep doing what they're doing militarily, but add the conversation. Make it normal to discuss these scenarios. Let your people understand the stakes. That's not fear-mongering—that's the kind of clarity that actually prevents wars, because it raises the cost of aggression in the aggressor's mind.