Putin’s Worst Nightmare: Made in Ukraine, Funded by Berlin

Forget NATO. Germany Just Gave Ukraine the Real Deterrent

First Great Britain. Then France. Now, Germany.

That is the sequence—not of statements, but of actions. One by one, these nations dragged the alliance forward, each making their own leap to protect the democratic world and stop the rise of the new evil empire.

Wait—wasn’t Germany already the second-highest donor to Ukraine by 2023?

Yes.

But you should never count contributions in dollars. You measure them in capability and delivery. Counting money is a mistake—and worse, it’s a trap. Dollars are psychological tools. And the Biden administration’s national security team used that vulnerability to full effect, hiding their paralysis behind giant numbers.

Yes, American weapons, American intelligence, and decades of U.S. military infrastructure remain critical to this war. That scaffolding—built by multiple U.S. administrations—still holds firm beneath the chaos.

But in terms of actual help, both Biden’s administration and Trump’s that followed have been the weakest links in the global effort to protect the democratic world. America the powerful has become America the fearful—first under a Democratic president, then under a Republican one.

You don’t need reams of data to prove it. The war could have ended in 2023. All it would have taken was 150 HIMARS launchers, 2,000 ATACMS (missiles that can be fired from those launchers), 10 Patriot air defense systems, and 1,000 interceptors.

There was no need for the United States to spend $120 billion to help Ukraine and stop Russia. They could have done it for less than half that. Way less.

Imagine admitting a critically ill patient to the world’s best hospital—armed with the best doctors, the best technology, and shelves fully stocked with the cure. And then choosing to give him low-grade medicine. Moving him in and out of the ICU, again and again. For three years.

Then imagine ordering shiploads of that same low-grade medicine from your favorite manufacturers, paying full price, and bragging to the world about how generous your treatment has been. All while the real cure sat untouched in the fridge. And sometimes, even the bad medicine only arrived when the alarms were already screaming.

There is no excuse for what Biden’s team did. None. I’ll spare Secretary of State Antony Blinken—without him, this disaster could have been even worse. But the rest of the national security team? The worst in the world.

Trump’s team, in contrast, outpaced Biden’s with just three months on the clock. That says everything.

There is one sliver of good news. The right-wing ecosystem is finally splintering. An anti-Putin faction is rising—and fast. Ben Shapiro is pushing it. So are several senior GOP figures. It’s not a guarantee. But the odds are growing that they’ll force the pro-Putin bloc inside the White House into a corner.

No matter how we analyze Ukraine’s inability to end this war, it always circles back to one core issue: the West’s refusal to deliver the right weapons at the right time. Or more precisely, the West’s deliberate decision to keep war-winning weapons off the battlefield.

Charles de Gaulle saw this coming decades ago. He understood the mindset of American administrations long before most. In a 1961 conversation with President Kennedy, de Gaulle expressed skepticism about the U.S. commitment to Europe’s defense, stating that the U.S. would use nuclear weapons only if its own territory were directly threatened. He questioned whether the U.S. would risk its own cities to defend European allies, highlighting a fundamental uncertainty in relying on American protection.

De Gaulle’s foresight has been validated repeatedly. Obama, Biden, and Trump—all have proven him right. Each, in their own way, has demonstrated that when push comes to shove, America will prioritize its own politics over Europe's security.

---

---

Until yesterday, I still wasn’t sure if Europe truly understood the weight of Charles de Gaulle’s prophecy. It lingered in the back of my mind like a slow-burning fuse.

Russia has missiles that can hit every corner of Europe. They can launch from the air, from the sea, from land. Full-spectrum capability.

Europe? Their cruise missiles barely cross the 500-kilometer mark—and every single one of them is air-launched. You can’t even count what the United Kingdom has. Their arsenal, no matter how advanced, will always be tethered to the American leash. Germany’s Taurus maxes out at 500 kilometers. France has a few systems that stretch toward the 1,000 km range, but that’s about it.

The assumption behind all this was clear: they’d never need to face this kind of threat. That American production would always be there. That the U.S. would always fill the gap. After all, the U.S. has Tomahawks—missiles that can be launched from land or sea, that can shape the battlefield before it even begins.

But the last three years proved one thing: if Putin rolls past Ukraine, the Tomahawks aren’t coming. Not in time. Not in volume. Not at all.

And that leaves Europe with one option: France. A nation with the tech, yes—but without the funds or production capacity to sustain a long war.

Then there’s the final roadblock: the Missile Technology Control Regime (MTCR). A voluntary treaty that stops Western nations from transferring long-range missiles to member and non-member states. A rule designed for stability, now turned into a straightjacket. And yes, I know—when there’s a gun to your head, it’s not the time to check the rulebook. But this is Europe. They’re still stuck debating whether to even confiscate frozen Russian assets. That they’ve managed to agree on using just the interest payments is, in itself, a breakthrough.

So where does that leave us?

We have a technology problem—Europe must build long-range missiles, and they must be ground-launched. Air-launched systems won't cut it in the kind of war Ukraine is fighting.

We have a production and capacity problem—someone needs to pour billions into scaling this fast. Europe has the brains and the blueprints.

And finally, there’s the guideline problem—the Missile Technology Control Regime (MTCR). Even if a European nation builds the right missile tomorrow, current rules make it nearly impossible to transfer it to Ukraine. Unless Ukraine joins NATO, any missile with a range beyond 500 kilometers is effectively off-limits for export.

To be clear, I understand why this restriction exists. Lifting it entirely would risk opening a Pandora’s box—think Russia, Iran, North Korea. If long-range missile tech starts flowing freely across borders, the global security consequences could be catastrophic.

So yes, the 500-kilometer threshold serves a real purpose. But in this war, that well-intentioned guardrail has become a cage. We need flexibility—not abandonment of the rule, but exceptions that recognize the unique stakes in Ukraine.

And maybe that’s the part we’ve all missed. Putin doesn’t fear Article 5. He’s not losing sleep over NATO troops defending Lviv. What he fears is the legal green light to flood Ukraine with war-winning Western weapons. What he fears is a Ukraine that can strike back—deep, fast, and from its own soil.

Yesterday, Germany blew through every obstacle I just laid out—in one decisive move.

On May 28, following a meeting with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky in Berlin, German Chancellor Friedrich Merz announced that Germany would supply Ukraine with ammunition, small arms, air defense systems, and land-based weaponry. More importantly, Germany committed to investing €5 billion—roughly $5.6 billion—into Ukraine’s defense industrial base.

And then came the pivot: Merz stated that Germany would help finance Ukraine’s production of long-range weapons.

According to Bild, Germany plans to fund the development and serial production of cruise missiles with ranges up to 2,500 kilometers. Neither Merz nor Zelensky confirmed those numbers publicly—and that’s fine. The silence is tactical. Merz is already under fire from some of his own party for not delivering Taurus missiles outright. Let them complain. We’ll know what matters when the missiles start arriving on the battlefield.

In fact, talk of Taurus is irrelevant until Merz places a serious bulk order. That’s the only signal that will matter.

What does matter is this: the decision to fund Ukraine’s long-range missile production flips Europe’s entire equation with Russia. For the first time, Ukraine is being handed the means—not just the weapons—to shape its own deterrence future.

And here’s the kicker: Ukraine had already done this once. With almost no funding, it developed the Neptune cruise missile. A 1,000 km ground-launched system. On a shoestring budget.

LINK

Now imagine what Ukraine can build with German money, German parts, and an open mandate to go long.

If Germany follows through fast and delivers the billions off the bat—then we’re looking at a transformation, not just an upgrade.

Ukraine could immediately scale up Neptune production. It could start prototyping new systems, new ranges, new deterrents. If 150 HIMARS and 2,000 ATACMS—maxing out at just 300 kilometers—were enough to nearly win this war, imagine what happens when Ukraine starts producing hundreds of missiles with triple that range.

Just the Neptune. 1,000 kilometers. Scaled to 150 units per month.

That alone would redraw the map of this war. It would redraw the map of Europe’s security. Germany hasn’t just protected Ukraine. It has given Europe its first serious path to strategic independence. A long-term solution, yes—but one that could start shifting the balance before the year is out.

If Berlin gets the money flowing fast, the battlefield will speak for itself. And for the first time in three years, Putin will have to listen.