FEATURE: Julie Davis Leaves Kyiv — Leaving Ukraine Without a U.S. Ambassador

A First Resignation for Similar Reasons

Before Davis, there was Bridget Brink—a U.S. ambassador confirmed by the Senate who resigned in 2025 to protest Trump’s policy toward Ukraine. Brink made her resignation public with a clarity that few diplomats dare to display, stating in black and white her disagreement with the direction Washington was taking in managing that war.

With Davis’s departure, this marks the second high-ranking U.S. diplomat in less than a year to leave what is currently the most sensitive position in U.S. foreign policy. This repetition is no longer a coincidence. It is a trend—and one that should alarm all those who still believe the United States can be a reliable partner for Ukraine.

The Emerging Vacuum

The U.S. Embassy in Kyiv remains open and operational, but without an accredited head, its political influence is automatically diminished. In diplomatic terms, a vacancy at the highest level sends a signal: this is not a priority. For Ukraine, which depends on U.S. support for its military and economic survival, this signal is painful—even if Sybiha did his best to wrap Davis’s departure in diplomatic tulle.

I understand that diplomacy requires certain formalities. But when the Ukrainian foreign minister warmly thanks an ambassador who is leaving because she can no longer tolerate her own government’s policies, there is something heartbreaking about this obligatory politeness. Ukraine cannot afford to anger Washington—even when Washington lets it down halfway.

A summit without an agreement, baseless rhetoric

In August 2025, Trump and Putin met in Anchorage, Alaska. Hopes for a peace agreement—even an imperfect one—had been fueled for weeks by carefully orchestrated leaks. Then nothing. No agreement. Secretary of State Marco Rubio could not have been clearer: “There was no agreement in Anchorage. There was a proposal in Anchorage, but no agreement.”

Moscow, of course, told a different story. Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov invoked the “spirit of Anchorage” to claim that a framework for negotiations already existed—a transparent attempt to lock in the terms of a discussion that had never come to fruition. Russia wanted the entire Donetsk region ceded to Moscow. Trump did not sell out Ukraine, according to analyst Glen Howard—but he came dangerously close to the line.

Russia’s Strategy of Diplomatic Deception

The Kremlin’s insistence on an “Anchorage spirit” is not innocent. According to former State Department adviser Paul Goble, this narrative is aimed in part at the Russian public: it constructs a story in which Russia can one day claim that “the West betrayed it”—and use this myth to justify a new mobilization. It is the internal manipulation of a diplomatic defeat presented as Western betrayal.

What Moscow calls the “spirit of Anchorage,” the rest of the world calls diplomatic revisionism. Rewriting the history of a meeting to fabricate an imaginary victory is at the heart of the Putin system. And the fact that U.S. officials had to publicly refute this version says everything about Russia’s remaining credibility as a negotiating partner.

“Pretty well”—the most lukewarm tribute in history

On June 25, 2026, Donald Trump deigned to acknowledge that Volodymyr Zelensky was doing “pretty well” in the war against Russia. “He’s holding his own, at least. A lot of people are dying on both sides, but I think he’s doing pretty well,” Trump told reporters from the Oval Office. It’s the diplomatic equivalent of a shrug.

It’s worth remembering that this same Trump had claimed just a few weeks earlier that Ukraine didn’t have the “cards” to win. Consistency does not seem to be this administration’s strong suit when it comes to Ukraine. Zelensky, for his part, continues to meet with Trump whenever he can—as he did at the G7 summit in France—and to maintain the appearance of a partnership that, in reality, increasingly resembles a one-way relationship.

When bipartisan support remains the only bulwark

In his farewell remarks to Davis, Minister Sybiha emphasized “the importance of maintaining strong bipartisan support for Ukraine in the United States.” This is no idle remark. It is a call for help directed at Republican and Democratic senators and representatives, who understand that abandoning Ukraine would have strategic consequences for Washington far beyond Eastern Europe. Without this bipartisan support, without the $500 million approved by the Senate, and without pressure from Congress, Trump’s policy toward Ukraine would be even more erratic than it already is.

Trump is a necessary evil—I’ve always believed that. He’s forcing Europe to shoulder its defense responsibilities, he’s maintaining real economic pressure on Moscow, and he can’t completely abandon Ukraine without losing part of his own electorate. But a necessary evil is still an evil. And the diplomatic vacuum he’s creating in Kyiv this month is concrete proof of that.

When Absence Speaks Louder Than Words

A vacant ambassadorial post in Kyiv is a signal that Moscow is reading very carefully. For the Kremlin, every sign of weakness in the coalition supporting Ukraine is interpreted as an invitation to hold out, to persevere, and to believe that Western resolve will eventually crumble. Davis’s departure will be exploited in Russian propaganda—of that we can be certain.

Beijing is watching, too. Since the start of this war, China has been observing how the West manages its commitments to a country under attack. What it sees in Kyiv this month—a crucial U.S. diplomatic post left vacant, career diplomats leaving one after another—feeds into its calculations about what might happen if it decided to take action against Taiwan. American weakness in Ukraine is a dress rehearsal for other theaters.

Europe must fill this void

Faced with these troubling signs, Ukraine’s European partners bear an increased responsibility. German Chancellor Friedrich Merz has understood this: “The message to Russia is: Ukraine remains strong.” The NATO summit in Ankara on July 7–8, 2026, will be an opportunity to demonstrate that collective resolve transcends the individual whims of an unpredictable U.S. president. But that will not replace the presence of a U.S. ambassador in Kyiv.

Europe has delegated its security to the United States for too long. What we are seeing today in Kyiv—a vacant post, a diplomat leaving in frustration, and erratic U.S. policy—is a stark reminder that this delegation has always come at a price. Ukraine is paying that price right now. Europe should keep this in mind when it comes time to vote on its own defense budgets.

Zelensky Opts for Strategic Restraint

Volodymyr Zelensky navigates these turbulent waters with remarkable skill. He meets with Trump at the G7, he maintains the dialogue, and he never publicly criticizes the U.S. president directly—even when the latter offers him a compliment as lukewarm as “pretty well.” This restraint is not cowardice. It is political survival.

Zelensky knows better than anyone that Ukraine needs the United States. Not just for weapons—but for the diplomatic credibility that U.S. support represents in the eyes of the rest of the world. Losing that support outright would be a far greater catastrophe than the loss of an ambassador. So he smiles, shakes hands, and shows heroic patience in the face of a partner whose reliability leaves much to be desired.

A Frozen Ceasefire as the Only Common Ground

According to analyses by expert Glen Howard, the current positions of the White House and Kyiv now converge on a strict frozen ceasefire along the current front lines—with phased withdrawals having been completely taken off the table. It is a minimal common ground, but it is common ground nonetheless. Ukraine will never accept a negotiated territorial concession. And even Trump seems to have realized that forcing such a concession would be a political defeat for himself.

Zelensky’s paradox is that he must treat Trump as an ally while managing the consequences of his unpredictable policies. It is an exhausting position, both morally and politically. I don’t know how long a man can sustain this tension without cracking. But so far, Zelensky has proven that he has resources that no one anticipated in February 2022.

The Mechanics of Influence Without a Representative

The position of ambassador or chargé d’affaires is not merely a symbolic presence. It serves as a permanent channel of communication between two governments—to convey sensitive messages, negotiate the details of military aid, and manage crises in real time. Without this channel, information must pass through intermediaries, secure phones, and ad hoc meetings, none of which can replace a continuous presence.

In a context where every week can bring a new Russian offensive, a new decision on arms transfers, or a new diplomatic provocation from Moscow, the absence of a high-ranking U.S. representative in Kyiv creates delays in response that have real consequences on the ground.

A Dangerous Precedent for Other Allies

This vacuum also sends a message to other countries in the crosshairs of revisionist states—Georgia, Moldova, the Baltic states, but also Taiwan, the Philippines, and Japan. If the United States cannot even maintain a stable diplomatic presence with its most exposed ally, what confidence can these other partners have in the strength of their own U.S. security guarantees?

This is the question no one in Washington wants to ask out loud: if U.S. commitments to Ukraine are so fragile, what does that mean for NATO Articles 5 and 4? I don’t claim to know the answer. But the absence of an answer is itself an answer.

Sybiha and the Politeness of Necessity

Minister Andrii Sybiha found the right words for a difficult diplomatic farewell. He thanked Davis for his “personal contribution to the development of the Ukrainian-American strategic partnership.” He emphasized the importance of bilateral relations. He congratulated the United States on its 250th anniversary of independence. In every statement, there was the restraint of someone who knows that complaining is not an option.

This Ukrainian dignity in the face of a humiliating situation deserves to be acknowledged. Kyiv is losing its highest-ranking American counterpart for the second time in a year, amid an existential war—and it has chosen not to cry out, not to make accusations, and to maintain the facade of a normal relationship. It is an admirable strategic choice, even if it comes at a real emotional and moral cost.

The G7 Meeting as a Last Lifeline

The meeting between Trump and Zelensky at the G7 summit in France remains, according to Sybiha, proof that the strategic partnership between the two countries continues. There, the two leaders “reaffirmed their shared commitment” and coordinated their efforts toward peace. That’s true. But it’s also not much. Because there’s a world of difference between a summit meeting and a permanent diplomatic presence when it comes to the ability to manage day-to-day crises.

I was watching these images from the G7—Zelensky and Trump in a one-on-one meeting, the flags, the calculated smiles—and I was thinking of all the urgent issues waiting on the desk of an absent ambassador. Summit diplomacy cannot replace day-to-day diplomacy. Ukraine knows this. And it is paying the price for the difference.

July 7–8: The Moment of Truth

In a few days, the leaders of NATO’s 32 member nations will meet in Ankara on July 7 and 8, 2026. Trump, Zelensky, and European heads of state will be seated around the same table. Secretary General Mark Rutte announced that “tens of billions of dollars in new defense contracts” would be unveiled at the event. A commitment of 70 billion euros in military aid to Ukraine is expected to be included in the joint statement.

Among other things, this summit will be an opportunity for the allies to signal to Trump—and indirectly to Moscow—that Davis’s departure does not mean a U.S. withdrawal from the Ukrainian equation. But the real question remains: Who will replace Davis? And when? And with what actual mandate?

NATO 3.0 and Ukraine’s Role

Secretary General Rutte described this summit as a transition toward “NATO 3.0,” with Europe taking on a greater share of conventional capabilities. This is precisely the kind of structural shift that should enable the Alliance to remain a credible support for Ukraine even if U.S. commitment remains wavering under Trump. But structure alone cannot do everything. Political will remains irreplaceable.

NATO 3.0 is a nice-sounding phrase. But an alliance that loses its ambassador in Kyiv twice in a single year lacks something more fundamental than conventional capabilities: it lacks coherence. And coherence, in this world of revisionist predators, is the most precious currency there is.

Stalled Negotiations, a Vacuum Exploited

Peace negotiations between Russia and Ukraine have reached an impasse. The Anchorage summit produced nothing but a war of narratives between Rubio and Lavrov. Turkey has offered to host new talks—an initiative that deserves attention, though it remains unclear whether it has the necessary U.S. support to carry any weight.

Against this backdrop of total deadlock, the presence of a strong, well-mandated U.S. ambassador in Kyiv would have been a valuable asset. He could have served as a conduit between Ukraine’s positions and Washington’s hesitations, creating space for dialogue without compromising red lines, and reminding Trump and his team of the human reality of the situation they are managing from afar.

Ukraine will not negotiate under duress

Zelensky has reiterated: Ukraine will not cede any territory. It will not recognize Russia’s illegal annexations. It will not agree to a ceasefire that would leave Russian troops on its soil without solid security guarantees. These positions are non-negotiable—and they are just. But upholding them requires a strong U.S. presence in the Ukrainian capital, not a diplomatic vacuum that Moscow will fill with its own narratives.

A just peace for Ukraine is not a gift the West will one day bestow upon it. It is something Ukraine is building itself, brick by brick, blow by blow, negotiation by negotiation. But it needs allies who are present, not absent. An absent ambassador is not enough. A sympathetic Congress is not enough. What is needed is a continuous, committed, and courageous presence.

When Professional Integrity Says No

We must pay tribute to what the departure of Julie Davis—and, before her, Bridget Brink—represents. These are two high-ranking professionals who chose integrity over complacency. They could have stayed, done the bare minimum, and racked up additional years of service. They chose to leave because they could no longer defend policies they did not believe in.

In the bureaucratic machinery of American diplomacy, this kind of courage is rare. These departures say something important about the nature of the disagreements within the Trump administration itself on the issue of Ukraine. It is not indolent bureaucrats who are leaving—it is experts in the field who have seen it all, analyzed it all, and who refuse to endorse a course of action they deem dangerous.

The message these departures send to the rest of the world

Every departure of a career diplomat who disagrees with his government’s policy is a crack in the facade of a unified foreign policy. For Ukraine’s allies, these successive departures serve as a wake-up call. For Washington’s adversaries, they provide narrative ammunition. For Ukraine itself, it is a reminder that even its most loyal supporters within the U.S. system eventually reach their limits.

I do not judge these diplomats. I respect them. It takes a special kind of courage to sacrifice a career for one’s convictions, especially when you know the world won’t remember it for long. Brink and Davis made that choice. History should take note, even if the news forgets it tomorrow.

A successor—and fast

The immediate priority is simple: appoint a successor to Davis—and do it quickly. Every week of the recess is a week of uncertainty in the most critical bilateral relationship in U.S. foreign policy. The U.S. Congress, which showed its solidarity by approving $500 million in military aid for Ukraine in the Senate, should pressure the White House to fill this void without delay.

This successor must be not only a competent professional but also someone who has Trump’s trust and a direct line to him—to avoid suffering the same disappointment as his predecessors. It’s a difficult contradiction to resolve: diplomats who have Trump’s trust aren’t necessarily the ones who understand Ukraine best. And vice versa.

Bipartisan Support as the Only Safety Net

In the meantime, bipartisan support in the U.S. Congress remains the main safety net. Senators like Tim Kaine, who stated on June 30 that Congress should approve a new aid package for Ukraine “before the end of 2026,” embody this institutional continuity that transcends presidential whims. This congressional support is perhaps more reliable than the outpourings of sympathy from a president capable of describing a people’s survival as “pretty well.”

American democracy has its flaws—and they are numerous, visible, and sometimes disheartening. But it also has this capacity for self-correction, for counterbalancing the eccentricities of an unpredictable executive branch with a Congress that, for its part, has districts, voters, and opponents to answer to. It is this fragile balance that, for now, is keeping support for Ukraine alive despite everything.

An Administration That Devours Its Own Experts

Davis’s departure is not an isolated incident. It is part of a broader trend: the Trump administration has lost, through resignation or marginalization, a remarkable number of foreign policy professionals with decades of experience. National Security Council officials, Middle East diplomats, Asia-Pacific specialists. It is not just Ukraine policy that is faltering—it is institutional memory that is eroding.

This erosion has practical consequences. Without experts, decisions are made based on intuition, political loyalties, and last-minute decisions. For a country like Ukraine, which is juggling extraordinarily complex military, humanitarian, and geopolitical challenges, this American volatility is a structural risk that will not disappear with the next ambassador.

Institutions are only as good as the people who bring them to life. When an administration pushes out, one by one, the people who truly understand what they’re doing, it doesn’t just destroy careers—it destroys its own country’s ability to act intelligently in the world. Ukraine is paying that price. But so is America, in the longer term.

The Question of the Chargé d’Affaires

The whole question, then, is: Who will be the next chargé d’affaires in Kyiv? Will he be someone brave enough to tell Trump the truth when it’s uncomfortable? Will he be someone who understands the complexity of the situation in Ukraine beyond the oversimplifications the president loves so much? Or will he be yet another Republican donor whose main diplomatic credential will be his contribution to the party’s coffers? The answer to this question will shape a great deal in the months ahead.

What Davis’s Departure Really Means

Ultimately, Julie Davis’s departure isn’t just a matter of diplomatic personnel. It’s a symptom of an asymmetrical and dysfunctional relationship between the United States and Ukraine under the Trump administration—a relationship in which Ukraine depends on and expresses gratitude to the U.S., while Washington improvises and backtracks. This imbalance is not sustainable in the long term. And everyone knows it, starting with Zelensky.

In this war, Ukraine has learned to fight with what it has. It has learned to fight when weapons were slow to arrive, when decisions were delayed, and when ambassadors left. This resilience is not an excuse for its allies’ failures. It is simply proof that a people who truly want to survive will eventually find the resources to do so.

But Ukraine is holding on

Despite the diplomatic voids, despite the hollow “pretty well” platitudes, despite the ambassadors leaving one by one, Ukraine holds firm. It strikes deep into Russian territory. It destroys radar systems in Crimea. It builds drones that reach factories 550 kilometers from its border. It negotiates with a dignity that few countries in a similar situation would have shown. The empty chair in Kyiv is an affront. But Ukraine isn’t waiting for the chair to be filled to continue fighting for its freedom.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist