EDITORIAL: Calling Putin Over Kyiv’s Head — The Betrayal Trump Is About to Commit

Maxime Marquette

2026-06-24 13:08:40

A 28-point plan drawn up without Ukraine’s input

Let’s get back to the facts. In November 2025, a 28-point peace plan circulated—drafted by Steve Witkoff, Trump’s special envoy, and Jared Kushner, the president’s son-in-law and advisor, during negotiations in Miami with Kremlin financial advisor Kirill Dmitriev. This document called on Ukraine to cede the Luhansk and Donetsk regions, reduce its army to 600,000 troops, renounce any bid for NATO membership, and recognize Russian as an official language. In exchange, Russia would be readmitted to the G8 and sanctions would be lifted.

This plan—which mirrored Moscow’s maximum demands almost point by point—was presented to Zelensky as a “framework.” Ukraine rejected the most unacceptable elements. A revised 20-point version was then circulated, including security guarantees, a path to EU membership, and a Ukrainian army of 800,000 troops. But even this revised version left fundamental territorial issues without a satisfactory resolution—and Putin, for his part, still demanded Ukraine’s complete withdrawal from the Donbas.

The Alaska Summit and Its Phantom “Agreements”

On August 15, 2025, Trump and Putin met in Anchorage, Alaska—the first Russian leader to set foot on American soil since 2022. The summit ended without a formal agreement, without a ceasefire, and without Zelensky. The two leaders spoke of “significant progress.” Since then, Putin has repeatedly cited the “Anchorage agreements” as the basis for any negotiations—agreements whose exact content no one knows, but whose fragments reported by Bloomberg suggest that Trump may have agreed in principle to a Ukrainian withdrawal from all of Donetsk and Luhansk.

Zelensky, for his part, was not in the room. He learned of the results during a phone call the next day. It was Ukrainian sovereignty that was negotiated in Anchorage, and Ukraine had no seat at the table. Lavrov made this clear on June 15, 2026, from Moscow: “Putin has accepted President Trump’s proposals, and we expect the position agreed upon based on the American proposal to be implemented.” Translation: what Trump told Putin in private binds Ukraine without Ukraine ever having consented.

There is something obscene about this image: two men, at a military base in Alaska, deciding the fate of millions of Ukrainians. Two men who have never endured a single missile strike, who have never buried a child killed by a Russian bomb, who do not spend their nights in a shelter. I don’t claim to know everything about the subtleties of diplomacy, but I can tell the difference between legitimacy and its absence.

Putin the Strategist: Why He Loves These Phone Calls

Diplomacy as a Tool of War

Let’s be clear about what Putin is doing every time he picks up the phone to speak with Trump. He isn’t negotiating. He is consolidating his gains. Each phone call allows him to reaffirm his international legitimacy, to present himself as a reasonable interlocutor, and to advance the idea that the war can only end on Moscow’s terms. The proposed ceasefires—the one for Easter 2026, the one for Victory Day on May 9—have all been Russian public relations stunts disguised as gestures of peace. Putin would announce a truce for the military parade, then continue his bombings.

As recently as June 14, while Trump was calling Putin to tell him that peace was “vital,” Russian forces were seizing new villages in Donetsk and the Kharkiv region. That same day, Moscow carried out massive airstrikes on Kyiv, Dnipro, and Kharkiv. Putin has never stopped striking. He’s just learned to strike while smiling on the phone.

The Strategy of Exhaustion

Kremlin spokesperson Dmitry Peskov had the cynicism to declare on June 16: “There are no official channels of communication between Moscow and Kyiv.” This statement is both an admission and a weapon. Russia refuses any direct contact with Ukraine while demanding concessions from Ukraine. It refuses to recognize Zelenskyy as a legitimate negotiating partner—Trump himself had called him an “unelected dictator” earlier this year—while claiming to want peace. This is the strategy of attrition: prolonging the fighting long enough for a weary West to accept a settlement on Russia’s terms.

And the plan is working. Putin has rejected every ceasefire proposal that wasn’t his own. He rejected Zelensky’s open letter dated June 4, 2026. He refused to attend the G7 summit. Kremlin envoy Ushakov even claimed on June 16 that the Ukrainian proposal for a meeting during the G7 had never been conveyed to Moscow—even though Kyiv had used American and French channels. Each of Moscow’s refusals is then turned into an accusation against Ukraine for “blocking peace.”

I have been observing Putin for years. What strikes me is his absolute consistency: he has never changed his objectives. The neutralization of Ukraine, the dismemberment of its territory, the erasure of its national identity. He is not a man seeking peace. He is a man seeking Ukraine’s capitulation disguised as a peace treaty. And that difference is crucial.

Zelensky Holds His Ground: The Quiet Strength of a Man Who Stands Tall

Dignity as a Strategy

In Evian, Volodymyr Zelensky demonstrated what he has been doing for the past four years: holding his ground. Holding his ground against a Trump who arrived at the G7 basking in the glory of his deal with Iran. Holding his ground against European allies seeking to appease Washington while defending Ukrainian interests. Zelensky presented photos of the damage caused by a Russian strike on the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra—a UNESCO World Heritage Site—directly to Trump. He didn’t cry. He presented evidence.

His approach at the G7 was precise and strategic: to request more Patriot missiles, secure licenses to produce them in Ukraine, strengthen sanctions on Russian oil and the Russian banking system, and—crucially—insist that negotiations take place with Ukraine at the table, not behind its back. “I think President Donald Trump can make this happen—perhaps only he can,” he said. This isn’t flattery. It’s realism.

The Uncrossable Red Line

On the territorial issue, Zelensky has not budged an inch. On June 17, the Ukrainian government formally reaffirmed its refusal to recognize Russia’s annexation of the Donetsk, Luhansk, Kherson, and Zaporizhzhia regions. This position is not a political whim—it is a matter of survival. Recognizing these annexations would violate international law and the 1994 Budapest Memorandum, and would pave the way for future aggression. If Ukraine were to cede the Donbas today in exchange for a ceasefire, it would give Moscow a springboard for the next offensive in ten years.

Zelensky has made this clear, time and again: “Russia started this war. The plan must be fair—above all, for Ukraine.” It’s a fact that is sometimes forgotten in the hushed corridors of international diplomacy: it wasn’t Ukraine that invaded Russia on February 24, 2022. It isn’t Ukraine that is laying claim to Russian cities. It is Ukraine that is defending its internationally recognized territory against a clear-cut military aggression.

I am not Ukrainian. I have not lived through the bombings. But I know what legitimacy means. And when I see Zelenskyy—democratically elected, overwhelmingly supported by his people despite four years of war—treated as an obstacle to peace by the very people who caused this chaos, something inside me rebels deeply.

The Pitfall of a Ceasefire Without Guarantees: Frozen, Yes, but for How Long?

The Precedent Set by the Budapest Memorandum

In 1994, Ukraine gave up its nuclear arsenal—the third largest in the world at the time—in exchange for security guarantees from the United States, the United Kingdom, and Russia. The Budapest Memorandum promised Ukraine’s territorial integrity and sovereignty. Thirty years later, Russia annexed Crimea in 2014 and then launched a full-scale invasion in 2022. The guarantees were worthless. Or rather, they were not guarantees—they were mere promises on paper.

Today, Ukraine is demanding legally binding security guarantees, comparable to NATO’s Article 5, before agreeing to any ceasefire. This is a reasonable, even essential, demand. The Americans proposed a “robust security package” during the Berlin negotiations in May 2026—while making it clear that these guarantees “would not remain on the table indefinitely.” This diplomatic blackmail is telling: they offer protection with one hand while taking it away with the other, under time pressure.

Freezing the line of contact: a defeat in disguise

The central proposal of the U.S. peace plans—to freeze the contact line where it currently stands—amounts to ratifying Russia’s conquests. At the time of the negotiations, Russia controls approximately 70% of the Donetsk region, the entire Luhansk region, and parts of the Kherson and Zaporizhzhia regions, as well as Crimea, which was annexed in 2014. A freeze on the current lines would militarily reward the aggressor and punish the victim.

Zelensky himself has signaled some flexibility on the notion of partial “demilitarization” of certain areas—which was remarkable given his historic stance of “not a single centimeter of land.” But this flexibility has its limits. It does not extend to formal recognition of Russian sovereignty over the occupied territories. And that is precisely what Putin demands: not a ceasefire, but a surrender disguised as a peace agreement.

Freezing a front line after an invasion is tantamount to offering the aggressor the trophy of his criminality. A just peace cannot be built on the ruins of international law. This logic—rewarding brute military force—is exactly what led to the catastrophes of the 20th century. I do not understand how intelligent leaders can fail to see this historical parallel.

Europe in the Eye of the Storm: Allies Caught in the Crossfire

The Race to Avoid Being Excluded

At the G7 summit in Évian, European leaders showed remarkable unity in defending Ukraine’s interests—and in avoiding being sidelined from peace negotiations. Emmanuel Macron was explicit: “A successful negotiation is one where Ukraine and Russia are at the table, with the Europeans and Americans by their side.” Friedrich Merz, the German chancellor, spoke of a “two-plus-two” format—Ukraine and Russia on one side, the United States and Europe on the other. This is precisely the opposite of what Trump is doing: calling Putin directly, without the Europeans.

Keir Starmer’s United Kingdom—which had just announced his resignation, leaving Ukraine in uncertainty about the continuity of British support—nevertheless announced a new package of sanctions against Russia’s clandestine oil fleet. At the same time, the European Union was moving forward with the formal opening of accession negotiations with Ukraine—a historic decision that strengthens the prospect of Kyiv’s integration into the West. These signals matter. But they are only meaningful if Washington plays as part of the team.

Europe’s Strategic Isolation

The underlying problem is that Europe lacks sufficient military leverage to assert itself in negotiations. It can provide weapons, funds, and sanctions. It cannot replace America’s deterrent power. And Trump knows this—which is why he can afford to call Putin alone, hold summits in Alaska without inviting European allies, and declare that the United States has “nothing to do” with this war while claiming to be its chief mediator.

This American strategic schizophrenia leaves Europe in an uncomfortable position: dependent on Washington for ultimate security guarantees, yet unable to influence the bilateral Trump-Putin negotiations. Ursula von der Leyen declaring that “the tide is turning for Ukraine” and Trump telling reporters that the United States has “nothing to do” with the war are two sides of a West that has not yet decided whether Ukraine deserves a victory or merely a way out of the crisis.

Europe speaks well. Sometimes even with courage. But talking isn’t enough when Putin is advancing. What I’ve been observing for the past two years is a Europe that is slowly—too slowly—waking up to the reality of an existential threat. Russia will not stop at Ukraine if Ukraine gives in. NATO is in its crosshairs. And European leaders know this truth, but they do not always dare to say it out loud.

The 28-Point Peace Plan: An In-Depth Analysis of a Scandalous Text

What the Plan Required of Ukraine

The 28-point document drafted in Miami by Witkoff, Kushner, and Russian adviser Dmitriev was described by AFP—which obtained a copy—as a text that “aligns with Moscow’s previous demands and crosses Ukraine’s red lines.” The most controversial elements: the complete withdrawal of Ukrainian forces from the Donetsk and Luhansk regions; a reduction of the army to 600,000 troops; a permanent ban on NATO membership enshrined in the Ukrainian constitution; and de facto recognition by the United States of Russian sovereignty over Crimea, Donetsk, and Luhansk.

Russia, for its part, faced no major military restrictions—only a vague expectation that it “would not invade neighboring countries.” No demilitarization. No international tribunals. No reparations. In exchange, Moscow would regain its G8 membership, have its sanctions lifted, and benefit from “reintegration into the global economy.” In other words: a full reward for launching the largest military aggression in Europe since 1945. This is not a peace plan. It is a capitulation by the West.

Resistance from Kyiv and European capitals

Faced with this document, Zelensky said no. Plain and simple. “I will not betray my country.” He sent back a revised version, scaling back territorial concessions and demanding binding security guarantees. The European Union and the United Kingdom exerted sufficient pressure on Washington to have the initial plan amended. The 20-point version ultimately included a Ukrainian military force of 800,000 troops, a path to the EU, and an $800 billion reconstruction fund.

But Putin rejected these amendments. He stated that the European and Ukrainian changes “undermined peace efforts.” He instructed Lavrov to demand the original version—the one negotiated with Trump in Anchorage. NATO Ambassador Matthew Whitaker even admitted on Fox News Business that “Russia has not made a single concession” during months of negotiations. That says it all about the asymmetry of this process.

I read these documents, these proposals, these counterproposals, and I see something disheartening: a Ukraine making painful compromises, reluctantly yielding on certain points, seeking an honorable way out—and on the other side, a Russia that has never budged an inch from its initial maximalist positions. And despite this, it is Ukraine that is portrayed as the obstacle to peace. This is a complete moral inversion.

Trump and Putin: A Relationship That Defies the Logic of Alliances

The Psychological Profile of a Deal

Donald Trump has a unique philosophy when it comes to foreign policy: everything is a deal. He is not obsessed with international justice, the principles of sovereignty, or the fate of the Ukrainians. It is about reaching an agreement—any agreement—that he can present as a personal victory. He said it himself at the G7: “I ended eight wars. This one was the one I thought would be the easiest to resolve.” This remark says it all: for Trump, the war in Ukraine is a public relations problem, not a matter of international law.

His relationship with Putin is, at best, one of mutual respect between two strongmen who think in terms of spheres of influence. At worst, it is a relationship of tacit complicity in which Trump provides Putin with the diplomatic legitimacy he needs to make the international community accept his conquests. Every “friendly” phone call, every summit in Alaska, every statement by Trump about the “productivity” of his exchanges with Putin reinforces the image of a Russian leader who deserves to be treated as a partner rather than an aggressor.

The Temptation of a Betrayal

Trump has shown frustration with Putin at times—threatening “enhanced” sanctions if the Russian leader “played for time” with him. But these ultimatums were never followed through on. In June 2026, as diplomatic efforts resume after the Iranian interlude, the risk is at its peak: Trump, buoyed by his deal with Tehran, will want to replicate that success with Moscow. And to secure a quick deal with Putin, he will be tempted to sacrifice Ukraine’s minimum demands on the altar of his own diplomatic glory.

This is not mere speculation. The White House adviser has already warned that security guarantees for Ukraine “will not remain on the table forever.” This rhetoric of manufactured urgency is a tool to pressure Kyiv, not Moscow. Ukraine is being told: sign now or you’ll lose the guarantees. Russia is never told: stop attacking or you’ll face new sanctions. This asymmetry in pressure is the hallmark of a fundamentally unbalanced process.

Trump is not an enemy of Ukraine on ideological grounds. He is indifferent to its fate—which is almost worse. The indifference of a powerful man can cause as much damage as outright hostility. And this indifference translates into a willingness to sell out Ukrainian interests if it allows him to return to Mar-a-Lago with a deal to announce.

International Law in Shambles: Dangerous Precedents

What This Imposed Peace Would Signal to the Rest of the World

Let’s imagine for a moment that Trump and Putin reach an agreement—without Ukraine’s full consent—that ratifies Russia’s territorial gains. What does this precedent say to China, which is watching closely from Taiwan? What does it say to Iran, North Korea, and all the revisionist powers that dream of redrawing borders by force? It says exactly this: military force is enough. Invade quickly enough, seize enough territory, and the great powers will eventually legitimize your conquests to secure a convenient peace.

This marks the collapse of the international system founded on the United Nations Charter, on the inviolability of borders, and on the prohibition of territorial conquest by force. This system is not perfect. But it has maintained relative stability since 1945. Hollowing it out to allow Putin to keep the Donbas is like opening Pandora’s box to a world where every regional power can claim the right to redraw its neighbors’ borders by force of arms.

China is watching

Xi Jinping is observing every development in the Ukrainian crisis with the attention of a chess player analyzing his opponents’ moves. If the West accepts that Russia retains its conquered territories, the message to Taiwan is crystal clear: a swift invasion can be rewarded if it creates a sufficiently solid fait accompli. China—the West’s primary long-term strategic threat—learns from every democratic weakness. And a peace imposed on Ukraine by Washington and Moscow would be the greatest demonstration of Western weakness in decades.

That is why Ukraine is not just a Ukrainian issue. It is an existential issue for the liberal world order. A sovereign Ukraine, defending its internationally recognized borders, is a pillar of the security architecture that democracies have spent decades building. To let it collapse under the combined pressure of Putin and Trumpian impatience would be a geostrategic catastrophe whose consequences will be felt for generations.

I often think of this statement by an ISW analyst: peace that favors Moscow in Ukraine is the starting signal for Beijing in Taiwan. This is not a metaphor. It is a concrete strategic projection. The West is staking its fundamental interests on the Ukrainian front, without always seeming to realize it.

The strikes continue: the reality on the ground versus the rhetoric of peace

The bombs don’t stop during phone calls

On June 14, 2026, while Trump was speaking with Putin about the urgent need for peace, Russian forces continued their advance in the Donetsk region and captured the villages of Rozkishne and Okhrimivka in Kharkiv. The next day, June 15, Russia launched one of the largest air offensives of the entire war: 656 drones and 73 missiles were fired at Kyiv, Dnipro, Poltava, Kharkiv, and Zaporizhzhia. The toll: at least 18 civilians killed and more than 100 wounded. This is not the behavior of a country seeking peace. It is the behavior of a country seeking victory.

On June 20, Zelensky warned of an imminent “massive attack” by Russia and urged the population to take shelter. While diplomats exchanged polite pleasantries in Évian, Ukrainian mothers were carrying their children into basements. This reality must be constantly brought to mind, because diplomacy has a natural tendency to disconnect from flesh and blood.

Ukraine is holding its ground and advancing

What the negotiations tend to obscure is that Ukraine is not in a position of military weakness as talks resume. Ukrainian drone strikes on Russian targets—including a refinery in the Tyumen region of Western Siberia, thousands of kilometers from the border—have demonstrated an unprecedented long-range strike capability. The European Commission has acknowledged this: “The tide is turning for Ukraine. The situation in 2026 is very different from that in 2025. Ukraine is courageously holding the front lines.”

The G7 itself has confirmed that Russia is not winning the war. Zelenskyy has reiterated this: “Everyone agrees that Russia is not winning and is suffering heavy casualties; therefore, it must reach an agreement as quickly as possible. It does not hold the initiative.” It is against this backdrop of Ukraine’s relative strength that honest negotiations must take place—not against a backdrop of a manufactured sense of urgency that would force Kyiv to sign a bad deal under pressure.

There is something both ironic and outrageous about this: Ukraine is gaining ground militarily, and it is precisely now that it is being asked to make the greatest concessions. This is the perverse logic of a diplomacy that rewards the aggressor and punishes the defender just as the latter is demonstrating its strength.

Security safeguards: the heart of the matter

Why Ukraine Cannot Accept Mere Promises

What is a security guarantee worth for Ukraine after 1994? The question looms with painful urgency. The Budapest Memorandum was a promise by the United States, the United Kingdom, and Russia to respect Ukraine’s territorial integrity. Thirty years later, two of the three signatories have either been powerless to act or have been actively involved in violating those promises. This precedent haunts every Ukrainian negotiator.

For guarantees to have any meaning, they must be legally binding, automatically triggered, and backed by a real military presence. NATO’s Article 5 works because it is clear, because the Alliance’s military infrastructure is already in place, and because a violation would trigger a certain collective response. Current proposals—“robust guarantees” without ground troops and without a timeline for NATO membership—fall short of this minimum threshold of credibility.

The Issue of Patriot Missiles and Local Production

Zelensky’s specific request—to produce Patriot missiles in Ukraine under a U.S. license—perfectly illustrates the Ukrainian logic: strategic autonomy is the best guarantee of security. If Ukraine can produce its own air defense missiles, it will no longer depend on the fluctuating goodwill of its allies. According to Zelensky, Trump seemed receptive to this idea at the G7—but there is a world of difference between a “positive” reaction from Trump during a meeting and a formal decision.

The U.S. Senate Armed Services Committee voted to extend aid to Ukraine and increase authorized funding to $750 million. This bipartisan signal serves as a reminder that support for Ukraine in the United States is not just a matter for the White House. The House of Representatives has even passed legislation imposing new sanctions against Russia, in a bipartisan rebuke of Trump’s approach. But these legislative signals can be circumvented by an executive branch determined to strike its own deal with Putin.

Manufacturing Patriot missiles in Ukraine: that’s an idea that strikes me as revolutionary in its simplicity. No longer depending on uncertain deliveries. No longer begging allies for every missile. Building a sovereign defense industry. That is exactly the direction Ukraine must take, and I’m glad that Zelensky is advocating for it so clearly.

Peace Without Justice: Lessons from History

Versailles, Munich, and the Dangers of Appeasement

History has been cruel to great powers that believe they can buy peace by making concessions to authoritarian regimes. In 1938, in Munich, Neville Chamberlain returned with an agreement signed by Hitler, believing he had saved the peace. Less than a year later, Germany invaded Poland. It’s not an easy comparison—history never repeats itself exactly. But the dynamics are similar: an authoritarian leader taking advantage of the fatigue of democracies, territorial concessions that only encourage the appetite for conquest.

Putin himself has admitted that if Ukraine “accepted the compromises discussed in Anchorage, the conflict would end naturally and quickly.” This statement reveals everything: for him, the end of the war is not a matter of a ceasefire, but of Ukraine’s acceptance of his maximum demands. The “quick peace” he proposes is Ukraine’s capitulation disguised as a treaty. And such a peace will not last—because it will be perceived by Ukraine and the West as a humiliation that will call for revenge.

Lasting peace can only be a just peace

A lasting peace in Ukraine can only be built on solid foundations: recognition of Ukraine’s territorial integrity, the withdrawal of Russian forces, credible security guarantees, and holding the perpetrators of war crimes accountable. This agenda may seem ambitious given the current balance of power. But it is the only one that can lead to real stability. Any peace that leaves Russia in a position to resume the offensive in five or ten years will be nothing more than a brief interlude of violence.

Ukraine has shown that it can fight. It has shown that it can strike deep into Russian territory. It has shown that Russia is not winning, despite four years of massive effort. It is from this position of relative strength that Kyiv must negotiate—not under pressure from a White House eager to announce a deal before the next election, and not on the terms of a Kremlin that refuses to make any real concessions.

“Peace is still the supreme good,” some will object. Yes. But not just any peace. The peace of the graveyard is also a kind of peace. The peace that Putin offers resembles that: a silence achieved through exhaustion, sacrifice, and capitulation. That is not the peace Ukraine deserves. That is not the peace Europe can accept without betraying itself.

What else can the West do? The remaining options

Sanctions and Economic Pressure

The West still has powerful levers at its disposal that it has not yet fully activated. The new sanctions on Russian oil exports, the banking system, and military production—discussed at the G7 and announced by the United Kingdom—are effective tools. The “ghost fleet” of Russian oil tankers, which had allowed Moscow to circumvent embargoes, has begun to be targeted: a tanker was intercepted in the English Channel by British forces. These measures are hurting the Russian economy, which is showing increasing signs of strain—inflation, fuel shortages, and public exhaustion.

The U.S. Senate voted across party lines to extend aid to Ukraine. The House of Representatives passed new sanctions against Russia. If Trump decides to maintain the waivers on Russian oil sanctions—a decision that expires in June 2026—it will be a direct gift to Putin. If, on the other hand, he allows these sanctions to be reinstated, it sends a signal of resolve that could alter Russia’s calculations. Trump told the G7 that the United States might “do that at some point.” That’s vague. And vague, in this context, means that Putin is waiting confidently.

EU Membership as a Strategic Anchor

On June 17, 2026, the ambassadors of the twenty-seven European Union member states officially agreed to open accession negotiations with Ukraine the following week. This is a historic decision—symbolically enormous, practically crucial. It anchors Ukraine firmly within the Western political, economic, and regulatory sphere, regardless of the whims of the White House. EU membership is not a substitute for NATO in terms of military security—but it is an irrevocable recognition of Ukraine’s place in the West.

It is also a signal to Putin that his fundamental strategic objective—to wrest Ukraine from the Western orbit—has failed. No matter what happens on the military front or in peace negotiations: Ukraine is European, wants to be European, and Europe wants it. This reality is now institutionalized. It may be the most enduring victory of these four years of war—a victory that neither bombs nor Trump’s phone calls to Putin will be able to erase.

The opening of negotiations for Ukraine’s accession to the EU: that is what gives me hope amid all this diplomatic gloom. Because it is an irreversible decision. A collective decision by 27 sovereign countries telling Ukraine: you are one of us. And to Putin: You have lost the war for the soul of Ukraine, even if you continue to kill its people.

Conclusion: Resisting the Temptation of the Easy Deal

What History Will Remember

In ten or twenty years, history will judge this period based on a single question: Did the West stand firm in the face of the first major attempt at territorial conquest in Europe since 1945? Did it stand by Ukraine until a just peace became possible? Or did it give in to the temptation of a quick deal, sacrificing Ukrainian territories and the principles of international law for the sake of the image of a few powerful men?

Trump’s appeals to Putin over Kyiv’s head are not a solution. They are part of the problem. Any peace that does not respect Ukrainian sovereignty, that does not include credible security guarantees, and that rewards the aggressor for its crimes is not peace—it is a lull before the next round. And Ukraine—as Zelensky has made clear—would rather continue fighting than accept a capitulation in disguise.

The Price of Clarity

Supporting Ukraine until a just peace is achieved is not idealism. It is long-term realism. It is understanding that Europe’s security, NATO’s credibility, deterrence against China, and the strength of the international order—all of this is at stake in the steppes of the Donbas. Every Patriot missile delivered to Kyiv is an investment in the West’s collective security. Every dollar in sanctions on Russian oil exerts real pressure on the financing of Putin’s war. Every refusal to recognize Russia’s territorial gains sends a clear message to other revisionist powers around the world.

Trump may want his deal. He may even deserve it—assuming he could achieve a peace that truly respects Ukraine’s rights. But for now, every phone call with Putin “over Kyiv’s head,” every implicit concession made during secret summits in Alaska, every attempt to pressure Ukraine into signing quickly—all of this looks more like betrayal than mediation. And this betrayal, if it comes to pass, will leave its mark on an entire generation of Ukrainians—and on the future of democracy in Europe.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist