Poker, Russian Roulette, and History

During my university years, I spent a significant amount of time in coffeehouses. It still amazes me that I managed to do my most intense reading amidst the chaos and noise of those settings. However, I was never skilled at coffeehouse games. I’ve never learned to play backgammon or any card games. Instead, a few friends and I became engrossed in chess—a game I came to adore as one of the greatest inventions of the human mind. Even today, I relish the opportunity to play whenever I can.

Among my friends, there were also avid poker enthusiasts. They would discuss their games using a peculiar and incomprehensible jargon, with “bluff” being a key term in their lexicon. Although I never learned poker, I gradually came to understand what bluffing entailed: an attempt to deceive the opponent with false claims or misleading behavior to deter them from a course of action. Success in bluffing depends on convincing the other party to fold, potentially causing them to lose a game they could have won—or conversely, allowing a losing player to turn the tide in their favor.

Bluffing, in essence, is about winning without a foundation in reality—pretending to stake much while risking little or nothing. It’s akin to gambling; if your bluff works, you win. If it fails, loss becomes inevitable.

This brings to mind another game: Russian roulette. Unlike poker, losing here means certain death. In this grim game, a revolver with a single bullet is spun and handed to a player, who points it at their head and pulls the trigger. If the gun fires, they die. If it doesn’t, they survive and the turn passes to the next player, whose odds worsen. It’s said this deadly game originated among Russian soldiers suffering from war-induced psychological distress. A similar phenomenon was reportedly observed among paramilitary groups during the Lebanese Civil War.

These two games—poker and Russian roulette—came to mind as I reflected on the escalating Ukraine-Russia conflict. This war has played out like a game of poker from the start. The Atlantic West, with continental Europe in tow, instigated the conflict, but avoided direct confrontation with Russia, using Ukraine as a glove for NATO’s fist. The cost, of course, fell squarely on Ukraine, which was shattered and devastated. Millions fled their homeland, hundreds of thousands perished, and cities turned to rubble. Yet, contrary to expectations, Russia didn’t crumble. Instead, it adapted to a war economy, emerging stronger with the backing of China and India, though this came at a heavy cost, including tens of thousands of Russian lives.

Russia’s initial missteps, including internal turmoil like the Prigozhin/Wagner episode, were notable. Yet, the country regrouped, repelled Ukraine’s offensives, and steadily captured nearly 20% of Ukrainian territory. Recently, Russia has gained momentum, pushing the depleted Ukrainian military toward its final lines of resistance. Should these lines break—a very real possibility—Russia would achieve its primary aim of controlling roughly half of Ukraine. Putin seeks to end the war here and negotiate from a position of victory.

Parallel to this, speculation about a Putin-Trump partnership to end the war gained traction. Yet, when Trump won the election, Russia showed no reaction, and Putin remained stoic. Clearly, he anticipated that Trump’s victory wouldn’t lead to immediate peace. Reports of a pre-election meeting between Trump and former British Prime Minister David Cameron, where Trump was likely warned to continue the war, add another layer to this narrative. If Trump resisted initially, repeated assassination attempts might have forced him into compliance.

Trump’s eventual silence over NATO’s approval for Ukraine to use long-range missiles against Russian territory, followed by his endorsement, signaled a dangerous escalation. Russia responded by altering its nuclear doctrine and, for the first time, launching an intercontinental missile at Ukraine. The Kremlin warned that continued attacks would target U.S. bases worldwide, starting with tactical nuclear strikes and potentially escalating to erasing cities like London, Paris, Berlin, and even East Coast American cities from the map within 10–15 minutes—a timeline current defense systems cannot counter.

The world teeters on the edge of catastrophe. NATO dismisses Russia’s warnings as bluffs and insists on maintaining its course. In poker terms, NATO has “called,” leaving no room for further escalation or bluffing. The game has shifted from poker to Russian roulette, with no one knowing who will pull the trigger first or what the aftermath will be.

While there’s talk of ending the war, it’s clear they aim to weaken Russia irreparably before peace is considered. However, Russia’s refusal to accept such terms is evident.

We are witnessing the collapse of industrial civilization, which has dominated the last two centuries. This decline isn’t limited to economic crises, inflation, unemployment, or production losses; it extends to the institutions underpinning this civilization. Consider this irony: a civilization of science, philosophy, and art has ultimately reduced humanity to poker and Russian roulette. Should we laugh, or should we cry?