An imaginary conversation — for the time being, still only over T.L’s morning cup of coffee with AI.
ME: I came across a headline today: “Sikorski on a ‘New Yalta’: Putin Dreams of It.”
AI: A reasonable observation. Putin would presumably like a seat at the table where the great powers decide the fate of the world.
ME: Presumably? My dear fellow, Russia already has a seat. It happens to possess a nuclear arsenal broadly comparable to that of the United States. One does not need to issue an invitation to a guest who can demolish the ballroom.
AI: Quite. My choice of the word “force” was unfortunate. Russia does not need to force Washington to acknowledge its strategic significance. Washington has been aware of it for some time.
ME: An encouraging sign of progress. Now, tell me: has it occurred to Sikorski that Yalta did something rather useful for America, too?
AI: You mean that it helped consolidate the post-war order in which the United States became one of the world's two superpowers?
ME: Precisely. Though I should be obliged if you did not smuggle Poland, Eastern Europe or the moral tragedy of their fate into this particular argument. We are discussing America — and, by implication, Russia. Other subjects can wait their turn.
AI: Understood. Yalta was not simply Stalin's triumph. It was also part of the arrangement through which Washington consolidated its position as a principal architect of the post-war world.
ME: And yet, when the prospect of a new Yalta is mentioned, we are invited to imagine Putin rubbing his hands while the White House clutches the family silver.
AI: That may be an unnecessarily theatrical interpretation.
ME: Theatrical? You have finally stumbled upon the right subject.
AI: Then let us consider the cast. In 1945, the principal actors at Tehran, Yalta and Potsdam were the United States, the Soviet Union and Britain. Today, a comparable strategic arrangement would more plausibly involve the United States, Russia and China.
ME: There we are. Britain out, China in. The furniture remains much the same; only the nameplates have been changed.
AI: Although the historical circumstances are different, the underlying logic might be familiar: the major powers negotiating the limits of one another's ambitions, arms control and the conditions of strategic coexistence.
ME: And why, pray, should that be a Russian ambition alone?
AI: It need not be. Washington, irrespective of who occupies the White House, might also conclude that negotiating a workable global arrangement with Moscow and Beijing serves American interests better than attempting to dictate every outcome everywhere.
ME: How very unromantic. Three great powers, each pursuing its own interests, discovering that a conversation is cheaper than a catastrophe.
AI: Cheaper, certainly. Not necessarily fairer, more peaceful or more durable.
ME: Naturally. Great powers do not require friendship to make arrangements. They require a sufficiently compelling reason not to shoot at one another.
AI: And a sufficiently clear understanding of what each considers indispensable.
ME: Which brings us back to Sikorski's headline. Perhaps Putin dreams of a new Yalta. But perhaps Washington dreams of something rather similar — not because it wishes to oblige Putin, but because it recognises the advantages of a world whose principal rules are negotiated by the principal powers.
AI: That remains a hypothesis, not an established agreement. A willingness to negotiate among three leaders would not, by itself, prove that a new great-power settlement was under way.
ME: Of course. One mustn't confuse a dinner invitation with a treaty. Even in international politics.
AI: So your question to Sikorski would be—
ME: Simple enough.
“Mr Sikorski, when you tell us that Putin dreams of a new Yalta, have you considered that Washington might find the dream rather attractive, too? After all, the old Yalta helped establish the very American primacy that successive occupants of the White House have spent decades trying to preserve.”
AI: With China replacing Britain at the table?
ME: Naturally. Britain was the indispensable third party in 1945. Today, China is the indispensable third party in any serious discussion of the global balance of power. History rarely repeats itself exactly. It does, however, have a tiresome habit of reusing the furniture.
AI: And what should we call this new arrangement?
ME: Why, Tehran, Yalta and Potsdam — Revised Edition. Three powers, three sets of national interests, and a fresh opportunity to discover that the world is easier to manage when one has negotiated with the people capable of making it unmanageable.
AI: And the rest of the world?
ME: My dear fellow, you are beginning to sound like a diplomat. We were discussing the interests of the great powers.
There is a pause. The coffee has cooled. Somewhere, a statesman announces that the international order is based on rules.
ME: One last question.
AI: Yes?
ME: Who, exactly, do you imagine those rules are for?
The AI declines to speculate. And had this conversation taken place at the counter of the “Ptyś” bar rather than over the keyboard of a Fujitsu, Miss Zuzanna would, at that very moment, have been refilling the little glasses the two interlocutors had emptied during their discussion.
TL, with the assistance of AI
