| Talleyrand had great powers of self-control—never more than on the occasion when an angry Napoleon screamed at him for half an hour that he was a traitor, a cripple, a cuckold, and “a pile of s**t in a silk stocking.” To which Talleyrand said only, as he limped away, “It is a pity that a great man should be so ill bred.”
Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky could have channeled a little Talleyrand in his by now infamous Oval Office interview with President Trump and Vice President Vance. The deal for American dibs on Ukraine’s rare earth minerals was ready to be signed, and the best he was going to get at that moment. Zelensky should have pocketed the half win, listened with patient indifference, thanked all, and retired to fight another day. No doubt he wanted to show his people back home that he could not be bullied. But he showed himself, to casual American viewers, to be touchy and quarrelsome. And he ended up giving a semi-apology four days later anyway, calling the Oval Office cage fight “regrettable” and saying that “it is time to make things right.”
Ukraine needs the wisdom of the serpent because it is fighting a two-front war, against the invaders and occupiers of so much of its country, and their ring girls in Washington. Trump and his inner circle, whatever their other considerations, are temperamentally pro-Putin and anti-Ukraine. Before their meeting, Trump called Zelensky a dictator (then pretended he hadn’t) and said that Ukraine had started the war. Vance asked Zelensky if he had never thanked the United States for its help—he has, profusely and frequently—and later abused unnamed “random” countries that hadn’t “fought a war in 30 or 40 years.” (Britain and France were among those who sent troops, and lost troops, in Afghanistan.) Trump cut off sharing military intelligence with Ukraine until Zelensky makes nice, thereby limiting the range of the HIMARS launchers the U.S. has given them.
By their friends ye shall know them. Lech Walesa, and 38 other veterans of a midsize country’s struggles against Russia, signed a letter to Trump condemning his treatment of Ukraine and Zelensky: “The atmosphere in the Oval Office during this conversation reminded us of the one we remember well from interrogations by the Security Service.” Meanwhile a Kremlin spokesman smiled on the new direction in American policy, saying that it “largely coincides with our vision.”
The Kremlin is trying to make the worst (that is, for them the best) of the situation. And as Vance said in a moment of calm, what happens on the ground is more important than “public statements.” But public statements, like straws, show which way the current flows.
Supporters of the president’s position say that Ukraine cannot win—and they are very likely correct if they mean that it cannot altogether roll back Putin’s incursions since 2022, let alone since 2014. With U.S. and European help, however, it might be able to secure defensible borders and keep Russia from reaping rewards that will encourage further aggression. This outcome would preserve our European alliances, which is more important than—although a prerequisite to—rebalancing them.
Trump does not articulate these interests and may not recognize them. Trump feels a kind of kinship with Putin, as if he were a Russian-accented Roy Cohn, a tough guy who knows his own mind. Trump can smack him when necessary (as when he waxed Wagner Group fighters in Syria during his first term) and be pals with him the rest of the time.
Secretary of State Marco Rubio, who sat as if nursing an attack of reflux through the Oval Office meeting but came out swinging for Trump after it ended, must be asking himself why he gave up a Senate seat for this.
A capricious and ignorant president, surrounded by enablers; Europeans talking a good game, and wondering if they can play it alone. The outlook for Ukraine is poor. |