The proposal to construct an immense tunnel beneath the Bering Strait—an engineering marvel that would physically connect Russia and Alaska—has circulated among visionaries, politicians, and engineers for well over half a century. This notion, which first gained traction during the Cold War era of the 1950s, has periodically resurfaced whenever grand infrastructure projects capture public imagination. Now, if recent statements from Russia’s financial and political leadership are any indication, the Kremlin appears willing to breathe new life into this ambitious undertaking. According to public remarks by Kirill Dmitriev, the influential chief executive officer of the Russian Direct Investment Fund, the idea has returned to the agenda not merely as a nostalgic echo of mid‑century futurism, but as a potential symbol of modern technological collaboration—perhaps even international reconciliation.

Dmitriev publicly highlighted his renewed interest through a social media post that included not only enthusiasm for the megaproject but also a map illustrating the possible route of the transcontinental tunnel. Intriguingly, he suggested that Elon Musk, the billionaire entrepreneur famous for ventures into space exploration and underground transit technology, would be the most fitting figure to realize such a colossal vision. In his message, Dmitriev urged Musk to envision a scenario in which Russia and the United States—and, by extension, the continental masses of Eurasia and the Americas—would be bound together by what he dramatically described as the “Putin‑Trump Tunnel.” This proposed seventy‑mile undersea corridor, he asserted, could become both a literal and symbolic bridge of unity. Notably, he contrasted the typical projected cost of around sixty‑five billion dollars for such traditional infrastructure with his optimistic belief that Musk’s proprietary tunneling innovations, developed by The Boring Company, might slash that figure to less than eight billion dollars. In an aspirational tone, he concluded with an invitation to “build a future together,” emphasizing collaboration over division.

The next day, journalists inevitably questioned then‑President Donald Trump about this renewed Russian proposition during a press appearance at the White House alongside Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy. Trump responded in his characteristic off‑the‑cuff manner, calling the plan “an interesting one,” but admitting that he had only just heard of it and would need to consider the implications more carefully. The exchange, reported by CNBC, underscored both the idea’s eccentricity and its capacity to spark dialogue even amid tense geopolitical circumstances.

From an engineering standpoint, experts generally concede that constructing a tunnel across the Bering Strait is theoretically feasible. The strait itself is relatively shallow, and advances in tunneling technology have made previously unimaginable projects achievable. Yet technological capability does not necessarily guarantee viable execution. Elon Musk, despite his reputation for visionary ambition, has repeatedly faced criticism for over‑promising results and under‑delivering in terms of timelines and outcomes. While Musk’s companies have indeed advanced tunnel‑boring efficiency and attracted public fascination with futuristic transportation concepts, skeptics caution that his record demonstrates a pattern of unveiling grandiose ideas that often materialize in a considerably diminished or delayed form.

Interestingly, Dmitriev’s recent online commentary also revived historical precedents for the concept. He mentioned an earlier proposal dubbed the “Kennedy‑Khrushchev World Peace Bridge,” a project imagined in the early 1960s at the height of the Cold War. Yet the notion of linking the two continents by land or tunnel predates even that era. In an archival example from March 3, 1959, the syndicated comic strip “Closer Than We Think” by Arthur Radebaugh presented a visionary depiction of such a connection, quoting Senator Warren Magnuson of Washington State. Magnuson enthusiastically suggested that Alaska—then the United States’ newest state—could be joined to Siberia through either a bridge or a vehicular tunnel traversing the thirty‑ to forty‑mile expanse of the Bering Strait. His concept envisioned a route beginning at Wales on Alaska’s Seward Peninsula, extending across the islands of Little and Big Diomede, and continuing onward to the Siberian coast at Peyak. Magnuson boldly predicted that such a project could be completed within the lifetime of his generation, opening a transcontinental corridor for rail and automobile travel between as distant points as New York and Paris. He further claimed that future travelers along this route would serve as powerful ambassadors of goodwill, demonstrating that contact and commerce might achieve what politics often could not.

Given this history, observers today cannot help but interpret Russia’s modern revival of the idea through a political lens. The timing and presentation suggest that the Kremlin’s apparent enthusiasm might serve less as a genuine infrastructure initiative and more as strategic trolling—an attempt to provoke or embarrass former President Trump, particularly as Russia continues its military aggression against Ukraine. Nonetheless, those same observers acknowledge that the political use of absurd or grand proposals does not preclude their eventual emergence. Should Trump, known for his unpredictable policy shifts, once again pivot dramatically, abandoning support for Ukraine in favor of some unorthodox gesture toward Moscow, even the seemingly far‑fetched might become conceivable.

Further complicating this dynamic, Trump’s own statements during that same week appeared to hint at fatigue with the ongoing war between Russia and Ukraine. In a message posted to his social platform, Truth Social, he described his meeting with Zelenskyy as “very interesting and cordial,” while urging an end to the violence and encouraging the Ukrainian leader to negotiate peace. His post took an emotional and somewhat erratic turn, depicting the war as senseless and calling for both sides to declare victory and halt the bloodshed. He lamented the tragic toll—countless casualties each week and immense sums of wasted resources—and insisted that such devastation would never have occurred had he remained in office. His closing plea for combatants to “go home to their families in peace” struck a rhetorical note of exhaustion more than of strategy.

In the end, whether or not a literal tunnel uniting the United States and Russia will ever materialize remains highly uncertain. The project continues to hover between visionary ideal and political satire, between engineering possibility and diplomatic posturing. Yet, even as discussions of transcontinental unity return to the headlines, the grim reality of conflict in Eastern Europe persists with no resolution in sight. Thus, paradoxically, while the dream of a Bering Strait tunnel might symbolize an imagined bridge toward global cooperation, genuine peace between Russia and Ukraine appears to be drifting ever further from reach.

Sourse: https://gizmodo.com/the-kremlin-wants-elon-musk-to-build-a-tunnel-from-russia-to-the-u-s-2000673752