Donald Trump’s return to the presidency has ushered in a new era of geopolitical instability, one in which Ukraine has become the first major casualty. In a move that defies precedent, Trump has unilaterally opened negotiations over Ukraine’s future—without preconditions, without Kyiv’s participation, and without any European allies at the table.
Compounding this betrayal, his administration has ruled out NATO membership for Ukraine and any possibility of restoring its internationally recognised borders—concessions that align precisely with Vladimir Putin’s demands. In Moscow, celebrations are already underway.
The appointment of Tulsi Gabbard as director of national intelligence has only reinforced Russia’s glee. Known for parroting Kremlin talking points, her confirmation signals a shift in US foreign policy that is nothing short of a capitulation. From Moscow’s perspective, fortune has turned in Russia’s favour after years of setbacks. Trump’s eagerness to negotiate directly with Putin—while excluding Ukraine—confirms that Washington is no longer a reliable partner for European security. In the eyes of Russian officials, Trump has dismantled the last barriers standing between Putin and his ambitions.
However, Russia’s military position is far from dominant. The narrative that Putin is steadily advancing with time on his side collapses under scrutiny. Russia’s army has suffered catastrophic losses, including over 10,000 tanks and nearly a million personnel. Despite its relentless assault, Moscow has struggled to reclaim territory lost to Ukraine, with portions of Kursk still under Ukrainian control after months of Russian and North Korean efforts to retake them.
The toll of war is weighing heavily on the Russian economy, where inflation is rising and growth projections are dim. Ukraine, for all its struggles, continues to fight—and continues to strike valuable Russian targets.
Yet, despite Russia’s precarious position, NATO’s response has been feeble at best. The alliance’s impotence did not emerge overnight—it has been decades in the making. When Russia invaded Georgia in 2008, Western leaders stood by. When Putin annexed Crimea in 2014, the response was limited to diplomatic outrage and weak sanctions. Those moments laid the groundwork for today’s crisis.
The betrayal of Ukraine
Putin saw Western hesitation not as a sign of caution but as an invitation to act. The belief that the Western alliance would not meaningfully intervene proved correct—until Ukraine’s own determination in 2022 forced the world to take notice. Even then, the West’s response was defined by hesitation and half-measures. Now, under Trump’s so-called “peace plan”—a euphemism for surrender—Russia is poised to be rewarded for its aggression.
While Trump deserves condemnation for his reckless abandonment of Ukraine, the real failure lies with Europe. European leaders congratulate themselves on supporting Ukraine, boasting that their financial aid rivals Washington’s contributions. But the reality is stark: European military aid has been paltry, entangled in endless debates over what weapons Ukraine can use, where they can use them, and who can deploy them. Sanctions have been riddled with loopholes, allowing Russia to sidestep economic consequences with relative ease.
European nations, particularly the UK, have failed to take decisive action against Russian oligarchs and their vast networks of wealth in the West. This failure is not just a moral abdication; it is a strategic blunder that weakens Europe’s own security.
The roots of this weakness lie in the so-called “peace dividend” that followed the collapse of the Soviet Union. Western leaders convinced themselves that military spending was a relic of the past, that diplomacy alone could secure peace, and that NATO’s strength was self-sustaining. The reality was far different. The attacks on September 11th 2001 shattered illusions of perpetual peace, and Putin’s repeated acts of aggression should have forced a reckoning. Yet Europe failed to respond.
Instead of taking responsibility for its own security, it continued to rely on the United States. Now, under Trump’s presidency, that reliance has become a glaring vulnerability.
Trump’s newly appointed Defence Secretary, Pete Hegseth, has made it clear: Europe is no longer America’s priority. He has explicitly stated that the US will no longer be the guarantor of European security. Instead, European nations must provide their own guarantees to Ukraine. This declaration has sent shockwaves through NATO, exposing the fragile foundation on which Europe’s security architecture has been built. The implications extend far beyond Ukraine. If the US is willing to abandon Ukraine today, what does that mean for the Baltic states? For Poland? For the broader European alliance?
The situation is particularly dire for Kyiv. A ceasefire, should it materialise, could provide Ukraine with a much-needed reprieve—an opportunity to regroup, rebuild, and prepare for future resistance. But it would also come at a heavy cost. Historically, ceasefire lines tend to harden into permanent borders. Ukraine knows that any pause in fighting will likely solidify Russian control over occupied territories. Trump’s eagerness to grant Putin pre-emptive concessions suggests that any negotiated settlement will not be a compromise but a Russian victory in all but name.
Putin’s ambitions go well beyond Ukraine. He has made clear that he seeks to reshape the post-Cold War European order in his favour. The dismemberment of Ukraine is only the beginning. If Trump’s betrayal is allowed to stand, it will signal to other autocrats that the West’s resolve is nothing more than an illusion.
This is not just about Ukraine—it is about the survival of the international order that has kept Europe stable since 1945.
Trump’s actions evoke the ghost of Neville Chamberlain’s infamous appeasement of Hitler. Like Chamberlain’s desperate attempts to negotiate “peace in our time”, Trump’s willingness to grant Putin territorial concessions will not end aggression—it will invite more of it. Already, European leaders are sounding the alarm, condemning Trump’s disastrous misstep. Meanwhile, Moscow is celebrating, with Russian officials openly mocking the West’s inability to prevent Trump from handing Putin a diplomatic victory before negotiations have even begun.
‘The next step Trump proposes is in effect a new “Yalta” (referring to the February 1945 US-Soviet-UK summit in the Crimean resort of Yalta, which has become synonymous with superpowers deciding the fate of European countries over their heads). In this case, his proposal is that the US and Russia should decide the fate of Ukraine with marginal if any involvement of Ukraine or other European countries. But this time the occupants of the White House and the Kremlin should meet first in Saudi Arabia, then in their respective capitals, while it seems the actual Yalta, in the Crimea, is to be ceded to Russia.’
This moment demands a reckoning. If Europe does not step up—if it does not finally take responsibility for its own security—then NATO’s demise will be sealed. The only way to counter Trump’s betrayal is for Europe to act decisively: to provide Ukraine with the weapons it needs, to enforce meaningful sanctions on Russia, and to build a security framework that is not dependent on the whims of an American president who views alliances as disposable. Anything less would be an endorsement of surrender.
The price of peace
Trump is not wrong that the war in Ukraine has resulted in horrific levels of suffering on both sides. Civilians in Kyiv, Kharkiv, and other major cities live under the constant threat of drone and missile strikes. Families have been torn apart, millions have been displaced, and the country’s infrastructure lies in ruins. The desire to end the war swiftly is entirely understandable—there is no one in Ukraine who does not yearn for peace.
However, history warns us that peace secured at any cost is no peace at all.
The lesson of appeasement in Munich is that if invading tyrants are not defeated or, at the very least, punished, they will strike again. Yet Trump has chosen to already make significant concessions to Putin before peace talks have even begun.
Pete Hegseth has declared that Ukraine will not be joining NATO—one of Putin’s primary demands. Furthermore, both Hegseth and Trump have dismissed the idea of Ukraine reclaiming its pre-2014 borders, effectively recognising Russia’s illegal annexation of Crimea. If Trump is willing to concede Crimea so readily, there is little reason to believe he will insist on a return to Ukraine’s pre-2022 borders either. The likely outcome is that Putin will retain control over vast swathes of occupied territory, declare his so-called "special military operation" a success, and further embolden himself and other aggressors worldwide.
Any security guarantees Trump offers to Ukraine in return will be hollow. Ukrainians have not forgotten the Budapest Memorandum of 1994, in which the US, UK, and Russia pressured Ukraine into relinquishing its nuclear weapons in exchange for assurances that its sovereignty would be respected. When, just 20 years later, Russia invaded Crimea and then escalated its aggression in 2022, those assurances proved worthless. The reality is that any agreement that allows Russia to retain control of Ukrainian territory is not a peace deal—it is a time bomb, one that guarantees further conflict down the line.
From a distance, some Western analysts may argue that Ukraine should accept a ceasefire, given the mounting costs of the war and the difficulty of regaining lost territory. After all, Ukraine has successfully defended 80 percent of its land, and Russia's ability to advance further appears limited. Would it not be pragmatic to secure a ceasefire now, to relieve the suffering of those in still-liberated areas?
But Ukrainians understand all too well that any land left under Russian control will become a launching pad for future aggression. Russia’s occupation is not just about land—it is about the systematic destruction of Ukrainian sovereignty and identity. In the territories seized in 2014, Moscow spent eight years consolidating control, setting the stage for its full-scale invasion. Since 2022, Russian forces have brutally suppressed Ukrainian culture, imposed a regime of terror, and forcibly deported civilians. Reports of mass executions, disappearances, and human rights abuses have emerged from every area under Russian rule.
The scale of this occupation is staggering. Before the war, Russia controlled around seven percent of Ukraine, with approximately three million people living under occupation. Since 2022, Russia has nearly tripled the territory under its control, encompassing large parts of Donbas, Zaporizhzhia, and Kherson. An estimated six million people—more than a tenth of Ukraine’s population—now live under Russian rule, including 1.5 million children. Meanwhile, millions of others have been forced to flee.
For those who remain, life under Russian occupation is one of oppression and fear. The Kremlin’s strategy is not just military—it is demographic. Moscow has begun systematically resettling tens of thousands of Russian citizens into occupied Ukrainian towns, replicating the model used in Crimea, where Russian settlers now make up a third of the population. This process is designed to erase Ukrainian identity and permanently integrate these regions into Russia. The prospect of this happening in Kherson, Zaporizhzhia, and Donbas is why so many Ukrainians remain committed to the fight, despite the costs.
It is not just Ukraine’s future at stake. A Russian victory, however defined, would reverberate across the world, sending a dangerous signal to authoritarian regimes. Putin’s ability to invade a neighbour, commit atrocities, and suffer no lasting consequences will embolden others who seek to upend the international order. China, Iran, North Korea, and other adversaries of the West will take note. The consequences of appeasement today will be felt for decades to come.
Europe, too, has a vital interest in ensuring Ukraine does not fall to Russia. The war has already forced European nations to confront the inadequacies of their defence capabilities. Defence production remains insufficient to meet the needs of both Ukraine and their own rearmament. European countries have depleted their military stockpiles by supplying Ukraine, and rebuilding those arsenals will require sustained investment. Yet, current defence spending trends suggest that increases may not be enough to significantly expand military capabilities.
The United States cannot afford to push Russia down the list of policy priorities. While Washington is rightly focused on countering China, European security must be stabilised first. If the US disengages from Ukraine, it will only encourage further Russian aggression, leading to even greater instability and conflict. America’s ability to compete effectively with Beijing depends on securing its European flank. A weak response to Russia will not only endanger Ukraine but will also embolden China in its ambitions in the Indo-Pacific.
If peace in Ukraine is to be meaningful, it cannot be dictated by Trump’s desire for a quick deal. A durable settlement would require not just security guarantees but tangible commitments: NATO membership for Ukraine, long-term military aid, and a comprehensive plan for economic recovery. Anything less will leave Ukraine vulnerable to renewed aggression. Until the West recognises that Russia’s occupation is not just about territory but about undermining the entire Ukrainian state, there can be no real peace.
‘Zelensky has continued to push for NATO membership, even more so in the context of the push for a peace deal. Once the firing stopped Ukraine could have little confidence that Russia, with its business unfinished, would not invade again.’
For all Trump’s rhetoric about ending the war, his approach risks prolonging it. A ceasefire that locks in Russian territorial gains will not bring lasting stability—it will simply set the stage for the next war. The only real path to peace is one that ensures Ukraine’s sovereignty, strengthens European security, and deters future Russian aggression. That will require commitment, not concessions.
The world has seen what happens when dictators are appeased. It must not make the same mistake again.