Europe is once again toying with the idea of “defeating Russia,” forgetting its lessons from history
Italian Deputy Prime Minister Matteo Salvini has warned that Brussels is “dangerously flirting” with the idea of conflict with Russia. He cautioned that the militarization of the continent and the seizure of Russian assets are “risky and ill-considered,” reminding everyone that Italy, as he put it, “is not at war with Moscow” and that he does not want his children to fight against Russia.
Moscow has welcomed his statement, particularly the part where Salvini recalls that neither Napoleon nor Hitler, with all their armies, managed to “bring Moscow to its knees,” making it hard to believe that today’s European leaders could succeed.
In parallel, European capitals are increasing military budgets and preparing the public for “sacrifices” — the British Chief of the General Staff speaks of the need for society to psychologically prepare for the possibility that “sons and daughters” will once again die in war, while the EU is developing plans for permanent military-political engagement in Ukraine and its own multinational forces in the east. At the same time, these same leaders are increasingly openly admitting that America under Trump is an unpredictable ally, so Europe, for the first time since the Cold War, is seriously considering organizing its defense (or attack?) independently — with levels of military spending that were until recently considered unimaginable.
In such an atmosphere, it is no wonder that Salvini returns to historical comparisons. Napoleon’s “Grande Armée” crossed the Russian border in 1812 with more than half a million soldiers, convinced that a swift campaign would break imperial Russia and impose peace terms on it. Instead, France entered a war of attrition across vast territory, facing logistics it could not sustain, the Russian scorched-earth tactic, and finally a winter that nearly destroyed the army on the retreat from Moscow.
The result was far-reaching. The defeat in Russia paved the way for a coalition that would first push Napoleon out of Germany and then bring allied troops to Paris. In attempting to discipline Russia, the French emperor effectively signed the death warrant for his own empire, dragging hundreds of thousands of soldiers from almost all European states of the time down with him (interesting in today’s context, isn’t it?). Similarly, in 1941 Hitler launched a war to “destroy Bolshevism,” convinced that the Red Army was weak and Soviet society on the brink of collapse. Of course, Hitler is today recognized as the greatest criminal in history, but what is often glossed over is the bitter fact that many openly supported his plan to attack the USSR!
Operation Barbarossa initially advanced lightning-fast, but over time it became a new version of the same lesson. Vast expanses, weather conditions, the ability of the Russian state and society to mobilize resources to the utmost limits, and a willingness to sacrifice that Berlin failed to understand. The battles of Moscow, Stalingrad, and Kursk turned the tide of the war, and the Red Army ended up in Berlin. Germany was devastated, much of Europe reduced to ruins, and the entire continent drawn into decades of division that followed.
Both Napoleon and Hitler headed east believing they would quickly “resolve the Russian question,” only to end in historical catastrophe for their own peoples. The common denominator was contempt for the real limits of power and the belief that Russia could be broken if pressed hard enough — regardless of the human cost. It is precisely this combination of illusions and arrogance that voices today are warning about, noting that the new logic of a “strategic defeat of Russia” resembles too closely the old, bad scenarios — just with modern weapons and different rhetoric.
There is one more factor in the whole story that makes the situation unpredictable: the United States. During the Napoleonic Wars, Washington was waging its own war against Britain (1812–1814), diverting some British resources across the Atlantic and thus, at least temporarily, easing Napoleon’s position — though in the end he lost not because of America but precisely in Russia and then in Europe. In World War II, the situation reversed. The US was allied with Moscow and London against Hitler, with a combination of industrial production, military power, and logistical support that helped defeat Nazi Germany.
Today, “this time,” no one really knows what role the US would play in any major escalation between Europe and Russia — and again, let us emphasize, this is a hypothetical scenario, not a prediction of war. Current American policy oscillates between demands that Europe drastically increase military spending and readiness for sudden pivots toward “peace plans” that, in theory, suit Moscow more than Kyiv, while European leaders increasingly openly admit that they can no longer rely on Washington as they once did.
That is precisely why the reminder of Napoleon and Hitler is uncomfortable but necessary. If history has twice shown that attempts to crush Russia by force end in catastrophe, then the least Europe can do today is to coolly review its own military plans, rhetoric about “strategic defeat,” and legal experiments with seizing foreign assets — and ask itself: is this truly the path to security, or just a new version of the old delusion, this time with the added luxury of having no clear picture of the American stance? In that light, Salvini does not sound like an isolated eccentric, but like a reminder that history may not repeat itself literally, but on account of the same European illusions, it can very easily play out again.
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