War Games: The Shadow of ‘False Flag’ Operations

The Moscow massacre has reignited suspicions of Washington’s indirect authorship. Since Operation Cyclone, jihadism has served as a recurring geopolitical asset within the Western arsenal. We interrogate the history of ‘false flags’ and the US economy’s reliance on perpetual warfare: is ISIS-K merely an expendable pawn on the chessboard of attrition against the Kremlin? This carnage exposes Russian fragility while highlighting the dividends extracted from systematic instability. An examination of the strategic cynicism defining the new world order.

José Ramón González
8 min read
Joe Biden with Volodymyr Zelenskyy in Kyiv. Photo by Adam Schultz / The White House.

In relation to the massacre of 22 March 2024 at Moscow’s Crocus City Hall, attributed to ISIS, there are those who point towards a presumed primary source: the United States of America. The jihadist faction responsible for this terrorist act emerged in 2014 in Afghanistan, fuelled by an animosity towards Russia that traces its lineage back to the Soviet invasion of Afghan territory between December 1979 and February 1989.

What, then, is the rationale behind the curtain? In 1979, the USSR invaded Afghanistan to bolster its communist government, which was then embroiled in a civil war against insurgent groups—primarily villagers and citizens who adopted guerrilla tactics in mountainous regions to harass Soviet forces and the Afghan army. Whilst initial foreign assistance emanated from Saudi Arabia and Pakistan, the American intervention proved decisive.

Democratic Congressman Charlie Wilson was the prime mover behind United States involvement in the conflict. From 1980 onwards, Wilson compelled a significant surge in North American cooperation with Islamic fundamentalists, arguing that their struggle presented a unique opportunity to debilitate the Soviet Union during the Cold War. The CIA oversaw ‘Operation Cyclone’, a clandestine programme designed to provide military and financial support to the extremists. This contribution, encompassing weaponry, ammunition, funding, and training, was channelled through Pakistan to reach the Afghan insurgent groups.

Between 1980 and 1984, direct collaboration did not exceed $30 million annually. However, in 1985, coinciding with the commencement of Ronald Reagan’s second term, this figure increased tenfold and then twentyfold, reaching $650 million by 1988, according to official CIA statistics. It is imperative to note that these sums do not reflect the totality of funds destined to sustain the conflict, as other unacknowledged financial conduits were operational.

This impetus fortified the Mujahideen’s capacity to resist and deplete Russian forces. In 1989, the Soviets withdrew definitively from the region. The United States had extended its influence across the territory, stoking the conflict and leaving a nation in ruins. This policy reveals that, for the White House, foreign populations are merely resources for the attainment of its own interests.

When the George H.W. Bush administration withdrew its support, Afghanistan descended into a period of chaos and internal strife. The provisional government, led by the Tajik Burhanuddin Rabbani and backed by the forces of Ahmad Shah Massoud and Rashid Dostum, faced opposition from Pashtun clans led by Gulbuddin Hekmatyar. This ethnic discord triggered a new internecine war between 1992 and 1996, during which the capital, Kabul—which had previously escaped significant damage—was devastated.

Nonetheless, National Security Advisor to Jimmy Carter, Zbigniew Brzeziński, expressed himself with firm resolve and without remorse in a January 1998 interview with the French weekly Le Nouvel Observateur: ‘Regret what? The secret operation was an excellent idea. What is most important to the history of the world? The Taliban or the collapse of the Soviet empire? Some stirred-up Moslems or the liberation of Central Europe and the end of the Cold War?’.

Washington’s interference in Afghanistan during the Cold War had long-term repercussions, including the ascent of the Taliban and the implementation of a new international order, which was reflected in the attacks on the World Trade Center in September 2001. Throughout history, the United States government has resorted to strategies of controlled war economy to avert economic recessions, promoting and supporting armed conflicts to expand public expenditure and, consequently, stimulate domestic demand. For instance, the Joe Biden administration has dispatched over $76 billion to Ukraine between 24 February 2022 and 7 December 2023. This figure is an estimate that does not encompass the full breadth of expenditure related to the Russo-Ukrainian conflict.

The growth of North American Gross Domestic Product (GDP) rose from a discrete 0.6% in the first quarter of 2023 to a significant 4.9% at the close of the fiscal year. This expansion is attributed to the military assistance provided, inter alia, to the Zionist movement in its genocide in Gaza.

Major corporations such as Lockheed Martin, RTX Corporation, Boeing, and Northrop Grumman remain global leaders in the sale of military hardware. The United States allocates in excess of $800 billion annually to military expenditure, representing nearly 3.5% of its GDP—a figure markedly higher than the average of European Union nations, which generally channel 1.6% of their GDP into defence.

United States foreign policy in the Middle East dates back to the Barbary Wars at the turn of the 19th century. This conflict arose from the extortion of American merchant vessels in the Mediterranean by Barbary pirates. In response, the United States naval forces engaged the ports where the pirates were harboured to terminate the plundering.

The American position in the Arab world became increasingly expansive following the Second World War. During the Cold War, the United States sought to counteract Soviet influence in the region by supporting anti-communist regimes and backing Israel against pro-Soviet Muslim factions. Furthermore, it assumed the mantle of security guarantor in the Persian Gulf during the 1960s and 1970s to ensure the stable flow of petroleum.

Since the 11 September attacks, North American strategy in the Middle East has been defined by an emphasis on the ‘War on Terror’. Although Washington maintains diplomatic relations with all regional territories except Iran, the White House has prioritised its intervention in the Palestinian-Israeli conflict and the containment of the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction among Islamic states.

In 2020, the signing of the Abraham Accords constituted a historic milestone. The United Arab Emirates, Bahrain, Sudan, and Morocco formally recognised Israel as a sovereign state. This diplomatic manoeuvre was seconded by Egypt and Jordan, which had established relations with the Hebrew State decades prior. Consequently, these nations became decisive partners of the United States, alongside Saudi Arabia and Qatar, whose ties with the American government remain fluid and encompass a diverse array of sectors, including security, commerce, and energy.

Despite their status as allies, both countries have faced allegations regarding presumed connections with extremist Islamic groups. These incriminations further complicate their bilateral relations, engendering criticism and disagreement regarding certain political aspects.

In the context of the war in Ukraine and the escalation of regional tensions, the recent assault on Crocus City Hall raises questions regarding potential motivations and international connections. Muslim nations such as Saudi Arabia and Qatar, which maintain interest-based relations with the United States, could find themselves indirectly involved in this geopolitical dynamic. Furthermore, the sympathy of the Crimean Tatar community towards Ukraine engenders an atmosphere of uncertainty, particularly when considering their historical conflict with Russia and their ongoing struggle for autonomy and rights within the region.

The sinking of the USS Maine in 1898 remains an event shrouded in controversy and speculation. Although the Spanish government denounced it as a ‘false flag’ attack, recent investigations have shed light on an alternative cause. According to certain studies, the explosion that resulted in the destruction of the battleship and the loss of nearly all crew members on board may have been the consequence of a fortuitous accident, precipitated by the detonation of a gunpowder magazine ignited by a spontaneous fire in the warship’s coal bunker.

Notwithstanding the uncertainty surrounding its origin, the USS Maine incident was instrumentalised by the United States as a justification to declare war on Spain. This intervention culminated in the termination of Spanish colonial hegemony and the concomitant ascent of the United States as a global power.

Throughout the course of modern history, several incidents have aroused suspicions of being presumed ‘false flag’ actions orchestrated by the United States. Operation Northwoods, a proposal by the Department of Defence in 1962, sought to manufacture pretexts that would justify the invasion of Cuba through simulated acts designed to implicate Fidel Castro. Furthermore, official documents and testimonies have revealed the planning of similar operations, such as the ‘Gulf of Tonkin incident’ in 1964, which was utilised to involve North Vietnam and provide justification for American participation in the Vietnam War.

In 2001, another event transpired that generated considerable controversy. The FBI admitted that the anthrax attacks on North American soil, known by the codename ‘Amerithrax’, were carried out by scientists within the George W. Bush administration. Senior officials from the federal agency asserted that Washington had issued instructions to attribute these actions to Al-Qaeda and to link the anthrax to Iraq, with the explicit purpose of advocating for regime change in that country. These assertions raise profound doubts regarding the veracity of the official version of events, suggesting that United States political interests may have influenced their interpretation.

Given these precedents, one might posit the possibility that the recent terrorist attack at the Moscow concert hall is linked to broad geopolitical tactics, following a pattern of ‘false flag’ incursions executed to achieve specific political objectives.

In the aftermath of the Crocus City Hall attack, various theories regarding a potential conspiracy have emerged. When assessing who stands to lose and who might gain, diverse perspectives arise. On one hand, the Russian Federation finds itself in a vulnerable position, as the terrorist act resulted in 139 fatalities and over 140 injuries, in addition to causing material damage and fostering a climate of insecurity among the populace. The reputation of the Russian government has been compromised by this aggression in terms of security, while the civilian population has endured the most significant emotional and physical trauma as a consequence of the atrocity.

Notwithstanding these facts, there are actors who could potentially exploit the situation. For instance, under the presumption that the United States and NATO were involved in a clandestine operation, they would secure a certain advantage by weakening Vladimir Putin and diverting his attention and resource allocation away from the conflict in Ukraine. This would constitute part of a broader strategy to exert pressure upon the Kremlin within the current geopolitical theatre.

Ultimately, these episodes present significant challenges to global stability and social cohesion. It is, therefore, essential to conduct exhaustive investigations to elucidate the facts and prevent their recurrence. Transparency and international cooperation remain fundamental in addressing the complex dynamics underpinning such acts.

In contrast, this atrocity could consolidate Putin’s strategic positioning. Should a narrative be established linking the attack to an international agenda directed against him, Russia might exploit the situation to bolster its image as a victim of external hostile actions. This would foster national solidarity and sentiment surrounding the Russian government, potentially justifying more expeditious foreign policy measures—even underpinning its position in the Ukrainian conflict by presenting itself as a nation under existential threat from its enemies.

About the author
José Ramón González
José Ramón González

Founder and Editor-in-Chief of The Sentinel Telegraph · 29 articles

A political analyst driven by a passion for the study of global geopolitics and the waning of Western hegemony. His work challenges official consensus through rigorous inquiry, linking institutional erosion to global humanitarian crises. He champions a model of critical, progressive journalism dedicated to exposing contemporary historical revisionism.

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