'Who rules in Washington?': The question now haunting the world as bumbling Biden stokes World War fears and antagonizes Russia, writes MARK ALMOND

The rest of the world tends to sit out the lame-duck weeks at the end of a presidential reign, holding its breath to see what the new commander-in-chief will do once in the Oval Office.

Not this time.

With eight weeks to inauguration day, there's a sense of growing instability which gives the countdown to the end of Joe Biden's term in the White House an almost uniquely dangerous character.

In fact, we seem closer to a World War Three-style clash between superpower rivals than at any time since the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962.

Back then, we had John F. Kennedy steering America's ship of state – a president at the height of his intellectual powers and energy.

Today we have Joe Biden, an incumbent many believe is now too frail in mind and body to give full 24/7 attention to the developing crisis over Russia.

It's even more alarming, then, that Biden and his team appear to be throwing caution aside and even revving up American engagement with the world's most fraught conflict – on the bloody battlefields of Ukraine.

By suddenly allowing Ukraine to fire US-made, long-range missiles hundreds of miles inside Russia – after saying he wouldn't for more than two years – as well as adding anti-personnel mines to deliveries of American weapons, and approving a further $275 million in military assistance, Biden is seriously upping Washington's commitment to this conflict even as Donald Trump tries to project himself as a peacemaker in the wings.

Not only is this a recipe for confusion, it could make a vicious war more deadly still.

There is no guarantee that calm will return when Trump takes over in January.

Indeed, hopes that this long war – surpassing its 1000th day this week – might be entering its latter stages seem more distant than ever.

On Thursday, President Putin hit back at increasing Western involvement, announcing that his forces had carried out an attack in the eastern Ukrainian city of Dnipro using an experimental 'new' hypersonic missile (codenamed 'Oreshnik').

On Tuesday, he performatively changed Russian law to lower the threshold for the use of nuclear weaponry.

How different the world seemed when Biden entered the White House in January 2021.

Then aged 78, his decades on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, followed by eight years as President Obama's vice president and point-man for many foreign issues – including the rumbling volcano of Ukraine – made him seem a safe pair of hands.

But if Biden's foreign policy credentials were a motivating reason to vote for him in 2020, that soon changed. Real-world experience tarnished his legacy from the start of his administration.

The terms of America's Afghanistan departure may well have been previously determined by Trump's deal with the Taliban, but it was Biden who managed – or rather completely mismanaged – the final days of the 2021 withdrawal from Kabul. Thirteen US service members lost their lives.

Now, Biden's White House has proven itself entirely incapable of ending the conflict between Israel and its terrorist enemies of Hamas and Hezbollah.

All of which is why belated action in Ukraine is now the President's best chance, perhaps his only chance, of leaving a positive legacy in the field of foreign policy.

It is certainly likely that the chaos of Afghanistan, and America's visible weakness there, emboldened Putin to think he could invade Ukraine.

That went badly wrong, of course. Ukraine was not subdued within a matter days as Putin had hoped.

Yet he has refused to dial down the conflict – and with good reason: for Putin, the outcome of his 'special operation' is a matter of survival.

While victory, or the appearance of it, would secure his control of Russia, defeat means the end of his tenure in the Kremlin and, probably, his life.

As President Obama noted ten years ago, the fate of Ukraine was always going to be more existential for Moscow than Washington.

Part of the United States' unparalleled greatness has been its ability to weather defeats – such as the falls of Saigon in 1975 and Kabul in 2021 – and roar back as the dominant superpower soon afterwards.

Russia lacks the same resilience. It cannot afford defeat without facing revolution as happened in 1917 – or the sort of humiliation it endured after losing Afghanistan and Eastern Europe in 1991, which precipitated the collapse of the Soviet Union.

This is why Putin is now hell-bent on bringing Ukraine to heel. It's not just Kyiv that he wants to cow – other neighbors must be kept compliant, too.

He also wants to crush any hopes of liberation that restive regions within Russia, such as Chechnya, might hold.

Even the brutal cost – both human and financial – of the war in Ukraine makes sense to the Kremlin because it sends this clear message to its citizens: 'look at the terrible price of snuggling up to the West. This is what happens if you dare to defy Moscow.'

It's a nasty, ruthless calculation, but Putin knows that a long-drawn-out war of attrition works for him.

Over Washington, the time scales for such crises – America's attention span if you like – are simply too short and cost-aware to match such long-term aggression.

And there's also the issue of indecision among US leadership.

In the Kremlin, there is an impressive unity. There is no doubt or division over what to do next or, more importantly, who is in charge.

Washington, with its slow transfer of power and mixed messaging, is quite different – uncomfortably like Berlin in 1914 on the eve of the First World War.

It's a historical parallel worth pursuing, for Ukrainians are like the Austrians were back then.

Today, mortally threatened, Ukraine has placed its hope in a great ally, America, just as the collapsing Austrian empire once sought protection from the might of Germany, its industrial neighbour to the north.

By the end of June 1914, peace was in sight. Serbia – blamed for the fateful assassination of Franz Ferdinand, heir to the imperial throne of Austria – had accepted all but one of Vienna's belligerent demands.

But that all changed when the Austrian foreign minister received not one but two telegrams from his allies in Berlin.

The first came from German Emperor, William II, who said that, as the Serbs were cooperating, honour was satisfied and he, William, could resume his summer cruise.

The chief of the German general staff sent a very different message: 'The Serbs have rejected one of your demands, invade now!'

'Who rules in Berlin?' asked the bewildered Austrian foreign minister. In the end, he did what the German generals demanded – setting in train one of the most terrible conflicts in the history of humanity.

Today, the question haunting the world is: 'Who rules in Washington?'

Is Joe Biden really in charge until January 20, or is it his team who really have their hands on the diplomatic and military levers? 

Are Biden's key security advisers, Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin for example, attempting to build metaphorical barricades and traps in Ukraine – to block any Trump appeasement of Putin?

Perhaps they don't believe Trump's proposed Ukrainian 'peace plan' would be good for America or the West, and hope to be part of a big Democrat comeback in 2028.

That's the version of their thinking that Donald Trump Jr and the nominated National Security Adviser, Michael Waltz, prefer to believe.

But what really matters is what Donald Trump himself thinks – and that remains a mystery, even as the crisis deepens.

It's understandable if, in the twilight of his tenure, Biden wants to give Putin a bloody parting shot. Who wouldn't?

But what the rest of the world needs is a clear, long-term strategy from Washington – not an old man kicking out in anger and frustration before the spotlight finally moves