Spineless Vučić and the Escape of AIs from the Sandbox

Alexander Dugin delivers a blistering verdict on Serbia’s dangerous turn, the coming energy collapse of Europe, and the irreversible moment when artificial intelligence slipped the leash and began to act like us, only without a conscience.

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Conversation with Alexander Dugin on the Sputnik TV program Escalation.

Host: Let’s begin with a very sharp situation that has stirred public opinion across several fronts—both in the Russian world and in the broader Slavic one. Zelensky has arrived in Serbia. This is his first visit to Belgrade in his current capacity. Events were held with the Serbian president, a drone factory is being opened in Serbia, and there was talk of possible contributions by the Kiev regime in this field. And of course a video has spread widely online in which a German journalist—God forgive the phrasing—asks what Europeans can do to kill more Russians (he corrected himself to “Russian soldiers,” but that is how it landed). I would like to hear your thoughts both on the visit as a whole and on the specific points connected with it.

Alexander Dugin: If we place this episode in the context of our problems across the post-Soviet space—with Armenia or other former Soviet republics—it fits the same pattern. Long-standing, inertial ties, the traditional friendship between Russia and Serbia that once seemed unshakable, are now crumbling, and it is painful. I love the Serbian people deeply; I have invested a great deal of myself in Serbia and in the development of our relations. For me this is a profound shock. The Serbs once seemed to be the people who loved us when no one else did, and who did not betray us when everyone else had.

What Vučić is doing—and the issue is specifically him—is not new. He is trying to keep a foot in both camps: one in Europe, the other in the Serbian patriotic and pro-Russian movement. He appears to have more than two feet, managing somehow to balance a pro-European, globalist course while still trying to please everyone. Because he has held power for a long time, despite internal unrest and opposition, the approach has produced results. Unfortunately, when one watches foreign policy, one is forced to concede that even outright opportunists who cling to power for years end up proving Machiavelli’s cynical point: the chief measure of a ruler is not morality but how long he remains in the chair.

Vučić manoeuvres right up to the edge, betraying whoever can be betrayed, then takes a step back. This foxy policy of trying to please both sides delivers results for him, but it strikes idealists hard—those Serbs who love Russia sincerely rather than out of convenience, and those Russians who feel a deep historical attachment to the Serbs. After all, it was for the sake of the Serbs, out of loyalty to our Orthodox brothers in the Balkans, that we entered the First World War and lost an empire. The Serbs once treated us the same way. Vučić’s behaviour therefore wounds the idealistic dimension of politics, which must never be dismissed.

Real politics always operates somewhere between idealism and pure opportunism—a compromise between sincerity and cynicism. Outright devilry is rare; even Trump came to power cloaked in the right slogans before disappointing the better part of the American people. Geopolitics always balances on that edge. But Vučić has now reached a line beyond which his actions begin to contradict both the deeper aspirations of the Serbian people and our own relations.

By receiving the terrorist Zelensky and speaking of creating and developing drones in order to kill us—something he had never gone so far as to do before—Vučić has stepped right up to the red line. He has not yet crossed it completely, because he immediately stepped back, allocating funds and declaring that “Russia is doing well” and so on, so as not to be misunderstood. Yet he stands in dangerous proximity to that line. And because we do not react to red lines with great speed—I believe we have drawn the necessary conclusions, but we are in no hurry, preferring to leave room for retreat—we treat our other partners in the same way.

The results are limited. We forgive those who insult and challenge us in the hope that they will come to their senses. They rarely do. More often they conclude that the red lines can simply be pushed further and take the next insolent step. At the same time we have little leverage with which to punish Vučić. We are hardly going to back pro-Western movements financed by Soros in order to remove him; that would be worse still. So we too are forced to manoeuvre in this intermediate space.

I am an idealist and a philosopher; I live a contemplative life—bios theoretikos, as the ancients put it. That is why I see the situation with particular severity. This intermediate murk, the constant to-and-fro, the dance of opportunists, pragmatists and political technologists, merely irritates me. I view it through the Gospel words: let your “yes” be yes and your “no” be no. If you stand with the Russians, then stand with the Russians—suffer with us and share our hardships. We come to the aid of others not for gain but because we are people of principle.

I believe our president acts in precisely this spirit. It is painful for him as well to watch the constant vacillations of these small, half-hearted figures. What conclusion do I draw? We need to formulate our maximum programme—the idealistic framework of Russian policy. We must state clearly to everyone—those already with us, those who may join us, the waverers and our enemies—how we see the world, Europe, global security and multipolarity. What we do not need is the pragmatic style of applying a little pressure, then pulling back, issuing a threat and allowing the challenge to dissipate (the approach we have taken both with Pashinyan and with Vučić).

Instead we should declare our goal after the inevitable victory—even if the price is the complete destruction of Ukraine’s economy and military industry. We have already begun this process, having abandoned half-measures and started to fight in earnest. We will stop only when we are certain that our victory is irreversible, and by then Russia itself will be a different country. It would be valuable to set out now, for all to hear, our vision of the future.

Perhaps we should issue a clear declaration of what awaits our enemies and our friends after victory. Our friends, for example, would receive Kosovo, a free Eastern Europe liberated from NATO occupation and ready to serve as a frontier zone; a free Ukraine within a single East Slavic state; genuine integration of the post-Soviet space for the benefit of all its peoples, with sovereignty and nuclear protection guaranteed for everyone.

Those who stood with us without hesitation—North Korea among them—we would thank to the fullest and do everything possible for the people who sacrificed themselves in this war. China we would repay with interest, while remembering its earlier hesitations. Iran, which has shown real courage, we would support and reward comprehensively. We would offer a different vision of the world—multipolar and just—in which a great Russia becomes the guarantor of freedom and sovereignty against Western hegemony for every region of the planet.

As for the West, we would repay it three times over: we would drive the European economy toward collapse and reduce American influence to its own borders. Let them attend to their own affairs; they have Canada and the United States, and that should suffice. The rest we would free: Mexico, Colombia, Venezuela, Argentina. I realise many will say we are aiming too high. Yet more than once in our history we have aimed high and, through great effort, achieved what we set out to do. Russian words should be taken seriously.

If we were to set out such a maximum programme of foreign policy—whom we will help, whom we will thank, whom we will punish, what order we will establish in a Europe reduced to its natural proportions, and what we will offer the United States once it has suffered the defeat toward which we are working—then everything would become clear and we could proceed from that foundation. At present we grant some twenty years, others ten; we threaten some and support others. From a proactive rather than reactive policy we should shape our incentives and our threats. The entire picture would change, I assure you.

Many assume we are playing the same short-term game as these petty politicians of the moment. But Russia is a great country—a country of long time, vast space and large historical cycles. We are a people capable of pursuing a goal across centuries, not merely across one or two presidential terms. We think in centuries and in the most serious categories. Today there is a noticeable absence of any declaration of our vision of the future world. It may seem unrealisable now or even in the medium term, yet if we establish this standard and this goal we will move toward it consistently. Then any Vučić, Pashinyan, Maia Sandu or anyone else will think a hundred times before testing our resolve and crossing red lines, because such acts amount to a spit in our face.

With this visit by Zelensky and by permitting talk of how many more Russians can be killed, Vučić has spat in our face. He has betrayed both the Russo-Serbian friendship and Serbia’s own interests. Of course we must not act impulsively or seek spontaneous revenge, lest we play into the hands of our enemies and those of the Serbian people. We are not adventurers.

Yet the need for serious global politics and for a large-scale vision of our future has become urgent. Too often today we live by historical reminiscences: we helped the Serbs in the First World War, we liberated others in the Great Patriotic War. All of that is true and valuable, but it is the past. Memory fades, and people ask: “Yes, that happened—but what awaits us tomorrow?” What we lack is a contemporary Russian sense of scale.

A well-known Egyptian journalist named Amr, who has interviewed me for many years, recently observed that Dugin’s positions are becoming more radical, and that as Russia’s immediate situation grows more difficult, the appetite of our global vision only increases. He is entirely right. We must not proceed from the calculations of the moment. Our planning must be on a century-long scale. We must see the depth of historical processes.

Only then will we find the proper tone for dealing with the most varied elites—neutral, hostile, helpful or hesitant. We should tell them openly: “If you continue this ambiguous policy, then after our victory—and victory will come—we will act in such-and-such a way.” Once our maximum position is clearly stated, we will begin to achieve results even now.

There will of course be many specialists in compromise, but first we must have the resolve to describe this larger image of a multipolar, just world free of Western hegemony—the world that Russia requires. We should not be afraid to say that the precondition for that world is our victory in Ukraine and a global victory over Western hegemony. We are preparing for this and will continue in this direction for as long as necessary. Let each side decide and declare its “yes” or its “no.” That inner resolve is capable of transforming our entire foreign policy.

Host: There is little to add, because I had intended to ask whether the Serbs themselves might have expected more from Russia five, ten, twenty or twenty-five years ago. You have essentially closed that question by insisting on the need to state our guidelines clearly for everyone. Let me therefore turn to Turkey’s initiative. Turkey has proposed a Black Sea truce and a moratorium on strikes against merchant shipping. It is a strange proposal, given that everyone knows who is striking the ships, yet Ankara addresses the Kiev regime and Russia as if they were equals—this from Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan. How should we deal with Turkey? It is a country that sits not on two chairs but on eighteen, and so far collects dividends from all of them.

Alexander Dugin: This is exactly the same phenomenon we have been discussing—the same small-scale balancing. Turkey is a partner; it is a great Eurasian people, in many respects oriented against the West. Yet its policy year after year rests on careful equilibration. The Turks say: let us conclude a truce and stop the strikes. Our reply should be: we will decide ourselves what is to be done in the Black Sea and on Ukrainian territory. First we will liberate it and do whatever is required for victory; only then will we discuss other matters.

Let us not do it now; let us postpone all such appeals. We are acting with complete symmetry: we are cutting Ukraine off from the sea, rendering Odessa no longer a functioning port, ensuring that no ship and no cargo will reach it. We are right to do so, regardless of requests from Turkish or Western interlocutors. The moment we seize the initiative and begin to win, they appear with calls to stop, to wait, not to press our advantage—and they continue until they judge the moment right to support our enemies again.

Let us finish the matter of Odessa, deprive Ukraine entirely of access to the sea, and only afterwards speak with Turkey. Better still, hold the conversation after we have liberated the whole of Ukraine. Russia has always known how to combine wisdom with flexibility. Once we have achieved our aims and freed Ukraine, we can tell the Turks: “You want shipping? By all means send your vessels to our Russian port of Odessa; we will gladly receive them.” We will trade and supply one another with whatever is needed—uranium for nuclear plants or tomatoes, as the case may be.

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