Volodymyr Zelenskiy has learned the art of survival in Washington: flattery, wardrobe adjustments, and a carefully rehearsed humility. Gone are the days of military fatigues that so offended MAGA Republicans; this time he arrived in the Oval Office in black jacket and shirt, letter for Melania in hand, and praise for Trump dripping from every sentence. A performance designed to appease, and apparently it worked.
Trump, basking in Zelenskiy’s gratitude and joined by a handful of European leaders eager to prove their loyalty, offered the Ukrainian president a temporary prize: security “guarantees” for some future peace deal, while postponing the awkward conversation about trading territory with Russia. A “great step forward,” declared Zelenskiy, as though delaying the inevitable were anything other than a concession in slow motion.
Europe, once so indignant about Putin’s aggression, played its part in this tragicomic opera. Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni gushed that “something has changed” thanks to Trump. German Chancellor Friedrich Merz was praised for his suntan. Ursula von der Leyen was informed she “might be more powerful than all the guys at the table.” Macron and Zelenskiy, hats in hand, were led into a side room decorated with campaign memorabilia, where Trump gleefully showed off a cap reading “4 More Years.” Diplomacy, 2025-style: selfies with the would-be emperor.
For now, Trump has agreed to call Putin, to arrange yet another summit—this time between Zelenskiy and the Russian leader. The choreography is depressingly familiar. Europe promises to shoulder “a big part of the burden” of security guarantees. The U.S. mumbles about contributing something, but Trump makes clear he isn’t sure they’ll even be necessary—after all, why not simply trust Putin’s word? The Kremlin, unsurprisingly, welcomes the idea.
We can only salute Putin’s mastery of geopolitical chess and marvel at the staggering stupidity of Western leaders. In just four years, they have managed to lose access to cheap energy, shred their own credibility, and expose the fragility of their alliance—all while pretending to act in defence of democratic values. Russia, sanctioned and supposedly “isolated,” now stands stronger in its influence, while the West bleeds both economically and morally.
The West pretends this is progress. In reality, it is prelude to capitulation. Everyone in the room knows that Ukraine will, eventually, be forced to accept that parts of its territory—already carved up in practice—will remain in Russian hands. Zelenskiy cannot make such a concession without “strong guarantees,” but who, honestly, believes these promises mean anything when Europe’s strategic backbone has long since dissolved?
The hypocrisy is staggering. Europe, which declared “never again” after Crimea, now whispers about the wisdom of “realism.” Washington talks of security guarantees while dismantling its own credibility. Trump, whose admiration for strongmen is legendary, plays both sides while openly undermining his own allies. And all the while, Putin waits patiently, knowing that the theatre of diplomacy is already scripted in his favour.
The terrible truth is this: the West is not negotiating peace, it is negotiating its own retreat. Ukraine is being softened up with smiles, reassurances, and empty gestures, while Europe remains paralysed by its own divisions. Putin does not need to win on the battlefield; he simply needs to wait while the West negotiates itself into irrelevance.
What we are witnessing is not diplomacy, but surrender dressed up as statesmanship. Ukraine is being abandoned, Europe is silent, and the West—self-proclaimed defender of freedom—is collapsing into a posture of complicity. And Putin? He hardly needs to lift a finger.