Staff Reports
In an impressive feat of negotiating prowess reminiscent of an all-you-can-eat buffet—minus the actual victory—President Joe Biden recently orchestrated the largest prisoner swap between the United States and Russia since the fall of the Soviet Union. The deal freed a host of individuals, notably American journalist Evan Gershkovich and former Marine Paul Whelan, along with some Kremlin dissenters who, if one squints hard enough, might pass for political victims of an overly zealous legal system. As if they were handing out party favors, the Russians even added some spies and dissidents to the mix, totaling two dozen individuals swapped in a deal that resembled more a game of chess where both sides only seem to lose pawns.
As the clock struck midnight, the American heroes found themselves back on U.S. soil, greeted like rock stars at Joint Base Andrews in Maryland. President Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris were there too, ready to embrace the newly-freed Americans as if they were all long-lost family members. One might wonder if Harris’s enthusiastic hugs might come with a side of political grandstanding, bringing a whole new meaning to the term “welcome home.”
Three newly freed Americans are back on U.S. soil after a landmark prisoner exchange with Russia. https://t.co/lzwW8AE1X3
— FOX 7 Austin (@fox7austin) August 2, 2024
Despite the celebratory atmosphere, it’s hard to ignore the elephant in the room—U.S.-Russia relations are about as friendly as a porcupine in a balloon factory. The Kremlin’s aggressive antics stemming from its invasion of Ukraine have left the relationship teetering on a tightrope over a pit of hostility. Yet, here comes “diplomacy” to the rescue, albeit with a formula that feels more like a quid pro quo where Uncle Sam is providing criminals in exchange for journalists and mannequins of dissent. It’s sort of like trading a thoroughbred horse for a few goats; one just hopes to end up with a solid long-term investment.
The captured Americans had been held under charges that were less “gotcha” and more “you-wish-you-were-kidding.” Gershkovich, for instance, was accused of espionage based on scant evidence, which might explain why he grinned like a Cheshire cat upon his release—perhaps finally free to write without looking over his shoulder. Whelan’s release, after years of unjust confinement, seemed to reflect an overcooked policy where the U.S. appeared more like a father negotiating the return of his kids after allowing them to stay out past curfew—except in this case, the kids were blamed for crimes they didn’t commit.
The swaps have drawn their fair share of criticism, akin to a bad movie sequel that nobody asked for. Critics argue that these exchanges incentivize hostile nations to grab more Americans, akin to trading trading cards but not in a good way. The Biden administration, however, defends the swaps with the fervor of a lawyer desperate to win a case, claiming a decrease in the number of wrongfully detained Americans. Yet, one cannot help but wonder if this “win” strategy is merely spitting in the wind while fully engaged in a high-stakes poker game with a very difficult opponent.
International negotiating in the wake of a prisoner swap is like less-than-ideal dinner party conversation; it can get awkward fast, especially when nations like Germany and other European allies are roped into concessions. Ultimately, six nations participated in the swap circus, which, if nothing else, proves that geopolitical relationships operate much like a high-stakes parent-teacher conference—lots of meetings with lots of handshakes, but no guarantee that anyone walks away learning anything worthwhile. Thus, as U.S. prisoners return home to much fanfare, one is left pondering the strategy—much like fumbling through the bottom of a bag of chips looking for the last few crumbs.
