By Fatih Kocaibis
Donald Trump’s 2024 campaign opened with a bold promise: to end the war in Ukraine within 24 hours. But that pledge has collided with the entrenched realities of a protracted conflict. Under Biden, Washington treated Ukraine as central to European security, helping Kyiv fend off Russia’s push for regime change. Yet sweeping sanctions and isolation efforts failed to cripple Moscow’s war machine. As Trump returns to office, his long-standing warmth toward Putin and skepticism of NATO has rekindled anxiety. With nearly 20% of Ukraine still under occupation, Kyiv now faces a drastically altered reality—and Zelensky, once the US’s wartime partner, must shift from battlefield leadership to fragile diplomacy.
A Shift in Tone, a Loss in Leverage
The shift in Trump’s rhetoric—from promising peace in 24 hours to suggesting withdrawal—makes clear that events have not unfolded as expected. A review of his administration’s timeline reveals that few, if any, of its actions have aligned with Ukraine’s strategic interests.
At the Munich Security Conference in February, J.D. Vance and other senior figures signaled a new direction in American foreign policy. Their renewed skepticism toward NATO shook the foundations of European security and weakened Kyiv’s diplomatic standing. Instead of maintaining neutrality in peace talks, Trump’s envoys adopted a distinctly Moscow-aligned tone—further eroding trust in U.S. foreign policy. Under such conditions, Zelensky is left to shoulder both battlefield command and the weight of diplomacy alone, an increasingly unsustainable burden.
Despite three months of nonstop diplomatic activity—from the Riyadh and Jeddah summits (which excluded Ukraine) to the ill-fated White House meeting and the later Paris talks—Trump’s team has little to show in terms of tangible outcomes. While they admit the process has been exhausting, they continue to project optimism in public statements.
A major rupture in U.S.-Ukraine relations came when Trump accused Zelensky of being a “marketing man who hustles money from America” during his 2024 campaign attacks on Biden. This harsh characterization, amplified by figures like DNI Director Tulsi Gabbard—dubbed “our girl” by Russian state media—further poisoned the atmosphere. Members of Trump’s inner circle, including family and longtime loyalists, routinely mocked Zelensky while conspicuously avoiding similar jabs at Putin. The imbalance seriously undermined Trump’s narrative of being a neutral broker.
At NATO’s February summit, Pete Hegseth dismissed Ukraine’s NATO accession and territorial integrity as “unrealistic goals”—a stance echoed repeatedly by Waltz and Witkoff. Making such concessions publicly before formal negotiations even begin has drawn sharp criticism, with observers questioning whether Trump’s team understands the stakes of diplomacy or is simply softening the ground for Moscow.
Witkoff’s Rise and the View from Kyiv
Trump’s political comeback is often cited as a testament to his sharp instincts and ability to read the public mood. But success in politics doesn’t automatically translate into diplomatic acumen—a gap underscored by his appointment of fellow real estate magnate Steve Witkoff as chief negotiator. Witkoff’s central role in talks with Iran and repeated meetings with Putin have raised alarm in Kyiv, where doubts persist over his ability to navigate high-stakes diplomacy against seasoned actors like Sergey Lavrov—recently decorated with the Order of St. Andrew—and President Putin, a former KGB.
Witkoff has become the most controversial figure in Trump’s foreign policy team, particularly in Ukrainian circles. Footage of Witkoff’s warm and familiar demeanor during his third meeting with Putin sparked backlash in Ukraine. Yet the backlash wasn’t limited to optics. Appearing on Tucker Carlson’s show—recently known for its pro-Russian tone and strong support for Trump—Witkoff claimed that Putin “not a bad guy” and expressed full confidence that Russia had no aggressive intentions toward Europe. He praised a personalized portrait of Trump commissioned by Putin and described Russian-occupied eastern Ukrainian territories as “Russian-speaking populations who have expressed their will through referenda.”
The issue isn’t the factual accuracy of these remarks—it’s the role of an official envoy, charged with promoting dialogue, making such overtly one-sided statements during sensitive negotiations. At a time when Trump has publicly called Zelensky a “dictator,” accused Ukraine of starting the war, and told him he had “no cards left to play,” Witkoff’s apparent alignment with that rhetoric—rather than moderating it—undermines not only his own credibility but the perceived good faith of the entire Trump negotiating team.
Frozen Frontlines and Shifting Red Lines
The Trump administration’s hardline stance on Ukraine has been met with clear approval in Russian public discourse. In March and April, Russian media ran headlines portraying Trump and Witkoff as having found “common ground” with the Kremlin—touting the development as a “historic opportunity.”
Russia’s foreign ministry and state-controlled media closely monitor every anti-Ukraine statement from Washington, using them to undermine the legitimacy of Zelensky’s government. These messages are widely circulated on social media, reinforcing a modern variant of the Soviet-era “Active Measures” strategy to erode Kyiv’s credibility and internal cohesion.
Putin has responded to Trump’s diplomatic overtures with symbolic gestures—such as prisoner swaps and conciliatory rhetoric. But the reality on the ground tells a different story. The Kremlin has been stonewalling Trump’s proposed 30-day ceasefire for two months while simultaneously maintaining the illusion of diplomatic progress. One of the clearest indicators came just after Witkoff’s meeting with Putin, when a strike on Sumy left 35 civilians dead—a stark reminder that Moscow continues its aggression even as it feigns negotiation.
Aside from a failed one-day symbolic truce during Easter, Russia has offered no concrete concessions. Its primary objective appears not to be peace, but rather to deepen divisions among Western allies and systematically weaken Ukraine from within.
Despite knowing that the proposed 30-day ceasefire would have little impact on its military position in Ukraine, the Kremlin continues to reject the offer. Russian officials cite vague “concerns” to stall negotiations while advancing demands that would effectively dismantle Ukrainian sovereignty. These include a permanent block on Ukraine’s NATO accession, restrictions on its military capacity, the ceding of control over Crimea, Kherson, Zaporizhzhia, Donetsk, and Luhansk to Russia, and regime change in Kyiv.
On the battlefield, Russia’s war machine shows no signs of slowing. In addition to massive transfers of troops and artillery from North Korea, Moscow recently announced the largest conscription effort since 2011—with 160,000 new recruits set to join the ranks. Weapons and supplies continue to flow uninterrupted from Iran, China, and North Korea. In April, Moscow launched a renewed spring offensive concentrated in the Kharkiv region—particularly around Kupyansk—and along key front lines in Donetsk, deploying over 67,000 troops.
Eroding Commitments and Contradictions
At the Paris peace talks, Secretary of State Marco Rubio remarked, “this is not our war,” adding that “we can move on” if progress proves elusive. No official U.S. proposal was released, but leaks suggested Kyiv may soon face terms far beyond acceptable compromise.
President once vowed never to recognize Crimea’s annexation, calling it “Obama’s legacy”—yet now seems to accept it, eroding trust in Kyiv. His team, citing Ukraine’s personnel and weapons shortfalls, reportedly supports ceding areas fought over in the 2023 counteroffensive—regions aligned with Russia’s “Novorossiya” agenda. While the idea of a “frozen conflict” has surfaced in Trump-aligned circles, it remains unclear whether this model will be part of any formal peace offer. For Kyiv, freezing the current front lines may seem less painful than formally ceding the still-contested regions of Donetsk, Kherson, and Zaporizhzhia—unlike Crimea and Luhansk, which are already under near-total Russian control.
Trump, who decries tariff imbalances as “foreign extortion,” shows no tolerance for economic concessions—yet labels Ukraine’s refusal to surrender major territories as “unconstructive,” a stance Kyiv views as blatant hypocrisy. Following the recent wave of deadly drone and missile attacks on Kyiv, Trump’s response—an understated “Vladimir, stop!”—fell well short of his sharp public rebukes of Zelensky. Nonetheless, it was interpreted by some as the bare minimum response expected from a sitting U.S. president.
In Biden’s final days, a $500 million aid package marked Washington’s parting gesture to Zelensky. In contrast, Trump—still bitter over the Oval Office debacle—suggested he could cut military and intelligence support as easily as pressing his Diet Coke button. This stance poses a major threat to Ukraine, while Russia’s allies continue their steady support.
Trump also showed no interest in strengthening Ukraine’s air defense capabilities. He disregarded Kyiv’s request for Patriot missile systems—estimated at $15 billion—not as a cash transfer but as the value of urgently needed equipment. This, despite North Korean-made KN-23 ballistic missiles and Iranian Shahed drones being used in recent attacks on the capital, starkly exposing Ukraine’s growing air defense vulnerabilities. The contrast was glaring: while Ukraine pleaded for protection, Trump responded only with his now-infamous “Stop!”—a phrase that, in this context, came across as performative and insincere to many in Kyiv.
Conclusion: What Comes Next
While initiatives to end the war and stem the bloodshed are certainly commendable, they must not be mistaken for a comprehensive solution. The opposite of Biden’s strategy—military aid and a closed-door approach to Moscow—should not be a policy of granting Russia disproportionate leniency and unlimited political credit.
Despite having a clear window to show goodwill, Putin chose otherwise. A temporary reduction in hostilities could have reinforced Trump’s diplomatic efforts and signaled Moscow’s seriousness. Instead, his inaction only reinforced suspicions that Russia views negotiations not as a path to peace, but as a strategic smokescreen for prolonging the conflict.
What’s expected from Trump isn’t compensation demands or grudge-driven decisions, but restraint from remarks that embolden Moscow—like calling Russia’s failure to conquer all of Ukraine a “major concession.” Relying on past administrations’ errors or rushing into shortcut diplomacy signals recklessness. Accepting Crimea’s annexation or surrendering Ukrainian land would embolden authoritarian regimes using “bite and hold” tactics—heightening European anxiety and hardening its long-term security posture.
If Trump continues to pressure Zelensky on a personal level, the diplomatic envoys around him must work to soften that approach and restore trust. In peace talks, Ukraine’s red lines must not be compromised beyond recognition. If major concessions are to be made, they must be met with binding security guarantees—conditions that undermine Ukraine’s sovereignty, such as regime change or forced military reductions, should be categorically rejected.
As long as Russia shows no genuine interest in ending the war—and there is no such signal at the moment—any ceasefire risks being short-lived, plagued by mutual violations and renewed diplomatic tension. Trump’s meeting with Zelensky during Pope Francis’s funeral offered a rare moment of optimism. However, his subsequent remark—“Maybe Putin doesn’t want this war to end”—only reignited the sanctions debate. Though this statement came late, it may prove pivotal. Whether there is any real difference between Biden’s “Don’t” and Trump’s “Stop” will become clearer in the days ahead. As for Putin’s recently declared 72-hour ceasefire, timed to coincide with Victory Day, it seemed more about keeping foreign guests comfortable than signaling a real shift. If Moscow intends to go further, it should accept the long-rejected 30-day ceasefire and join the negotiating table it claims to favor—before further embarrassing both itself and President Trump.
