Today in Washington, history was made. Not the good kind, not the kind they etch in marble or even scribble in textbooks. No, today was the kind of history where Donald Trump hosts Volodymyr Zelenskyy and a rotating cast of European leaders at the White House, declares it “a very good early step,” and then promptly announces that he’s arranging a Putin–Zelenskyy meet-and-greet as if he’s booking a golf foursome at Mar-a-Lago.
The Alaska summit collapsed into a snowdrift of “no deals.” Europe arrived in D.C. exasperated but photogenic. And Trump, never one to waste a camera angle, seized the moment to remind the world that diplomacy is less about agreements and more about appearances. “A very good early step,” he declared, which in Trumpese translates to: “Nothing happened, but didn’t I look fantastic doing it?”
The Leaders as Props
The optics today were impeccable if you like your diplomacy with the flavor of an awkward wedding reception. Zelenskyy, still dressed like military chic is a fashion line, flanked by Europeans who have mastered the “serious face for press photos” look. Trump stood there like a man auditioning for a statue of himself, offering lines that sounded suspiciously like rejected Truth Social drafts.
The White House press corps ate it up: the handshake shots, the stern nodding, the faint whiff of hairspray and panic. This was diplomacy as Broadway revue: choreographed, shallow, and destined to close in two weeks.
Trump the “Peacemaker”
The headline takeaway wasn’t that there’s still no ceasefire, no agreement, no actual movement beyond pageantry. It was Trump’s announcement that he is arranging a Putin–Zelenskyy sit-down, location TBD. He said it like a dad casually announcing dinner plans:
“We’re looking at a very beautiful spot, maybe Hungary, maybe somewhere else, we’ll see. Everyone’s talking about it, it’s going to be tremendous.”
This is not diplomacy. This is Airbnb. And somehow the fate of Ukraine hangs on whether Trump prefers Budapest or a golf resort with the right chandelier lighting.
The Kremlin, of course, immediately clarified that any “security guarantees” that smell like NATO are a no-go. Translation: Russia wants the cake, the icing, and the bakery, but will graciously let Trump slice it for the cameras.
Zelenskyy’s Tightrope
Zelenskyy, ever the reluctant star of this geopolitical soap opera, gamely played his part. He said he’s open to bilateral or trilateral talks but insisted they must be at the “leaders’ level.” Translation: he knows Trump will turn this into a campaign rally unless at least one adult is in the room.
For Zelenskyy, the risk is obvious: Trump positions himself as the “deal-maker” while Ukraine becomes the set dressing. It’s a rerun of every reality show season where the host insists he’s the protagonist.
Europe’s Grim Endurance Test
The EU and UK leaders smiled through clenched jaws, backing Kyiv publicly while praying privately that Trump’s stunt doesn’t derail what little leverage they still hold. Reports suggest Hungary is being floated as a potential venue. Perfect. Nothing says “neutral ground” like Viktor Orbán, a man who’s turned “illiberal democracy” into a brand and whose dream guest list is Putin plus anyone who will validate him.
Europe’s role in this? Like always: the parent in the carpool line, waiting to see if America will show up sober this time.
Two Threads to Watch (Or Not)
Here’s the reality beneath the smoke machine:
- Will a leaders’ meeting actually happen? Trump can announce all the trilaterals he wants, but unless the Kremlin signs off, it’s just a press release with delusions of grandeur. If history is any guide, we’ll get three weeks of speculation, a canceled date, and a hastily scheduled rally in Ohio instead.
- Will “security guarantees” mean anything at all? The phrase is currently doing the heavy lifting of an entire peace process. For Kyiv, it means NATO-lite insurance against obliteration. For Moscow, it means vague promises that don’t involve troops, weapons, or any Western presence. For Trump, it means “something I can brand and sell on hats.”
The Theater of Nothingness
What actually happened today? Not much. No map was redrawn. No ceasefire was declared. No guarantees were signed. What happened was theater: a photo-op recast as progress, a meeting repackaged as momentum.
Trump thrives on this. Real diplomacy is boring—drafting clauses, negotiating minutiae, endless nights of policy jargon. But theater? Theater is his mother tongue. He doesn’t need substance when he has spectacle.
And so today was less about Ukraine’s future and more about Trump’s self-image: the man who will pose, announce, hint, and preen his way into history, consequences be damned.
The Real Translation
So when Trump said today was “a very good early step,” what he meant was:
- No one threw anything.
- Everyone smiled for the cameras.
- He got to say “Putin” and “Zelenskyy” in the same sentence like he was the wedding planner of geopolitics.
And when Zelenskyy said talks must be at the leaders’ level, he meant: “I will not Zoom-call Putin in my pajamas while Trump live-tweets from the golf cart.”
And when Europe said they supported Kyiv, they meant: “We’re exhausted, broke, and terrified, but at least we’re not running this circus.”
Final Curtain
What happened today wasn’t progress—it was a calendar invite. Diplomacy reduced to scheduling, statecraft rebranded as table placement. Trump positioned himself as the hinge between Putin and Zelenskyy, but without actual commitments, he’s just the maître d’ of a dinner party no one’s sure they want to attend.
Meanwhile, Ukraine still bleeds. Russia still bombs. Europe still worries. And America, once again, confuses choreography for change.
It’s not peace, it’s not war—it’s reality TV diplomacy. Which, come to think of it, might be the only kind of diplomacy Trump was ever built for.