Last Updated on July 29, 2025 by Chicago Policy Review Staff
In the last few months, President Trump has gone from labeling Ukrainian President Zelensky a “dictator,” to shouting at him in front of an open forum in the Oval Office, to pausing all U.S. military assistance to Ukraine, to granting Golden Visas to Russian Oligarchs. Commentators have offered convoluted theories about Trump’s moves, speculating about complex strategic gambits in pursuit of Ukraine’s natural resources or increased European defense spending. Others have suggested that Trump’s actions are rooted in narcissism and personal affinity for Russian President Vladimir Putin.
Of the many uncomfortable moments in the Oval Office showdown—bearing all the hallmarks of a reality television episode—one was particularly revealing: Vice President JD Vance’s attack toward Zelensky insisting that he has been biting the very hand responsible for funneling billions of dollars into his embattled nation. “You should be thanking the president for trying to bring an end to this conflict,” he said, at one point asking, “Have you said thank you once?”
The Trump 2.0 administration’s strained posture toward President Zelensky comes as little surprise. During his first term, Trump issued an executive order to withhold aid to Ukraine through impoundment—signaling early skepticism about the U.S. role in the conflict. His impatience has only deepened as the war grinds on without a clear resolution. More than two years since Russia’s 2022 invasion, the battlefield remains in a grim stalemate. Russia has seized roughly one-fifth of Ukraine’s territory—including Crimea and the Donbas—through relentless attacks on energy infrastructure and sustained missile bombardments. Yet despite these gains, it has been unable to advance further. Conversely, Ukraine has been unable to reclaim the territory lost, leaving both sides entrenched and the path to victory increasingly elusive.
Trump maintains that, with no clear resolution in sight, the ongoing war in Ukraine is draining American resources and no longer serves the nation’s strategic interests. In his view, the United States would be better served by disengaging from the conflict and redirecting its focus toward a more pressing geopolitical rival: China. This perspective appears to resonate with a growing share of the American public. While the president’s confrontational stance toward a key ally during the Oval Office meeting raised eyebrows abroad, it was met with notable approval at home. In February 2022, 72 percent of Americans expressed confidence that President Zelensky would “do the right thing in world affairs.” By February 2025, that figure had fallen sharply to 48 percent. Trump entered office with a promise to end the war swiftly—and if there had been any ambiguity about how he intended to achieve that, it quickly became apparent: his strategy centers on pressuring Ukraine into accepting terms favorable to Russia, effectively prioritizing expedience over prolonged engagement.
There are two components of Trump’s approach to Russia and Ukraine: (1) a broader realpolitik and Nixonian foreign policy, and (2) Trump’s style of diplomacy.
Realpolitik and a Nixonian Foreign Policy
Trump’s attitude towards the war in Ukraine can best be described as realpolitik: policies driven by pragmatic objectives that only serve American power and interests. He is particularly interested in what concessions Zelensky can provide to America in exchange for security guarantees. Trump was set on signing a deal with Zelenksy for joint development of Ukraine’s critical minerals deposits, which would allow the US to reduce dependency on China, which recently banned the exports of rare earths minerals to the US. In turn, Ukraine would have the presence of US contracts that would act as a security guarantee to deter Russian aggression in the future.
Moreover, Trump’s shock tactics of throwing curveballs at U.S. allies—especially Europe—reflects a style reminiscent of that of Former President Nixon in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Trump 2.0 has made it clear that Washington will not offer unconditional blank checks to Ukraine by hinting that Article 5, NATO’s collective-defense pledge, might be a “contingent” calculation to alarm Europeans into greater military spending and not take American help for granted. The effects have been palpable across European countries, unsettling leaders in Berlin, Paris and elsewhere and raising discussions about dramatically boosting defense budgets. This strategy mirrors President Nixon’s dramatic overtures in 1971–such as his abrupt visit to Mao’s China and delinking the dollar from gold–which aimed to realign global power dynamics on U.S. terms.
DIPLOMACY BY CAPS LOCK
Trump has also adopted an unconventional public relations strategy, marked by overt displays of deference toward Russian President Vladimir Putin and pointed criticism of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, whom he has publicly labeled a dictator. A recent exchange during the Oval Office meeting illustrates this approach. When asked by a reporter how he would respond if Russia were to violate a cease-fire agreement brokered under his leadership, Trump dismissed the concern, asserting, “They respect me […] Let me tell you, Putin went through a hell of a lot with me. He went through a phony witch hunt, where they used him and Russia […] It was a phony Democrat scam. He had to go through it. And he did go through it.”
This response reflects more than just a diplomatic calculation; it suggests that Trump perceives a personal affinity with Putin, forged through what he views as a shared experience of political persecution by the Democratic Party. Though Trump is often characterized by his transactional, zero-sum worldview, this moment revealed a rare expression of personal loyalty—directed, strikingly, toward the leader of a state that launched a full-scale invasion of a sovereign nation.
Among the numerous explanations offered by political pundits for Trump’s unconventional diplomatic remarks, one theory stands out: it posits that Trump’s friendly overtures toward Putin are calculated. Some observers suggest that he is attempting to appease Putin to secure good-faith negotiations—an outcome the Biden administration did not achieve. Under Biden, the United States labeled Putin a “butcher” who “cannot remain in power” and pledged to defend “every inch” of NATO territory if hostilities escalated. This antagonistic stance failed to bring Putin to the negotiating table and instead pushed him closer to China. By contrast, Trump’s strategy employs a more conciliatory approach or what’s known as “grand rapprochement,” potentially allowing him to strike agreements with Russia and weaken its alliance with China. A more conciliatory posture has, arguably, yielded greater success in encouraging dialogue with the Kremlin—as evidenced in February, when President Putin agreed to engage directly with Trump after maintaining complete silence toward the Biden administration throughout its tenure.
What Trump got right…
Trump’s approach to Ukraine—and to foreign policy more broadly—presents a complex blend of strategic foresight and contentious trade-offs. Unlike the Biden administration, which struggled to articulate a clear pathway to Ukrainian victory or define the limits of American military involvement, the Trump administration advanced a more transactional and calculated framework. Central to this vision is the proposition that U.S.–Ukrainian cooperation should be anchored in mutual economic and strategic benefit, particularly through access to Ukraine’s rare-earth mineral reserves. Trump views these resources not only as a means to reduce America’s dependence on China, which dominates the global processing supply chain, but also as a way to recoup some of the tens of billions of dollars in aid provided to Ukraine since the onset of the war. Such an arrangement, in his view, would strengthen the United States’ industrial base while simultaneously equipping Ukraine with the economic leverage needed to preserve its sovereignty and deter future aggression.
…and what he got wrong
However, there are several key areas where the Trump administration appears to have miscalculated. Chief among them is the belief that reducing U.S. involvement would compel Europe to “rise to the occasion” and achieve meaningful strategic autonomy. While the concept implies a Europe capable of defending itself independent of American support, the continent remains far from realizing such a vision.
Though European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen has proposed an ambitious plan that could unlock hundreds of billions of euros for defense spending, and Germany’s incoming government is weighing significant military expansion—even considering circumventing its constitutionally mandated debt brake—the reality is more complex. Headlines touting new European defense initiatives have become frequent, yet the structural foundations of European security remain firmly anchored in the United States. NATO’s nuclear deterrent continues to rely on U.S. warheads stationed across Europe under “nuclear sharing” arrangements. Although there has been some discussion of a European-led nuclear umbrella, potentially spearheaded by France, no viable alternative has emerged to supplant America’s longstanding security guarantee. This enduring dependency underscores the limits of Europe’s current capacity to stand alone in matters of defense.
Second, the United States may be overestimating Europe’s willingness—and ability—to step up in Ukraine, overlooking the extent to which the EU remains economically entangled with Russia. Despite rhetorical commitments to bolster Ukraine’s defense, many of these gestures lack the credibility needed to exert real pressure on Moscow. Following Russia’s invasion in February 2022, the European Union rolled out a series of energy-related sanctions aimed at diminishing Russia’s economic power and curbing the continent’s reliance on Russian oil and gas—resources that had long been central to Europe’s energy security. While embargoes were imposed on coal and seaborne oil, imports of Russian liquefied natural gas (LNG) remained largely untouched until the war’s third year. Countries such as Belgium, France, and Spain continue to serve as major entry points for Russian LNG.
Meanwhile, the Kremlin has circumvented oil sanctions by operating a “shadow fleet” of aging, poorly maintained tankers. Since the beginning of the invasion, EU member states have collectively spent over €205 billion on Russian fossil fuels. This enduring dependency not only undermines the credibility of Europe’s punitive measures but also severely limits its geopolitical leverage—making it unlikely that the EU alone can compel meaningful concessions from Moscow.
Finally, Trump’s assertion that the war in Ukraine is severely draining U.S. taxpayer funds warrants correction. While the Trump administration often references a $60 billion figure for military aid to Ukraine, this number is heavily inflated. A new economic study by Center for Economic Policy Research EPR estimates that the real net value is around $18.3 billion. The discrepancy stems largely from the inclusion of outdated military stockpiles whose book valuations far exceed their practical worth. Many of these weapons were already decommissioned or nearing obsolescence, rendering them more costly to dismantle or recycle than to repurpose as aid. Relative to the U.S. economy, the outlay for Ukraine is modest, and America’s military assistance is on par with that of its European allies. Consequently, the notion that supporting Ukraine imposes a considerable financial strain on American taxpayers is overstated—especially since much of the equipment provided would otherwise remain idle or entail expensive disposal.
Toward Lasting Peace
For any enduring solution in Ukraine, Washington must maintain genuine leverage over Kyiv, Moscow, and key European capitals, ensuring that America’s long-term economic and security goals remain central. One approach would see the United States offer continued military and economic assistance to Ukraine, contingent on Kyiv granting access to its rare earth minerals. At the same time, European nations must assume greater responsibility for the continent’s defense, and Moscow must cease its malign influence campaigns and aggression if it hopes to restore normal relations with the West.
Thus far, the Trump administration has disproportionately pressured Ukraine by pausing much-needed aid—a counterproductive step. Kyiv is already heavily reliant on American backing, whereas Moscow tends to negotiate only when forced by real costs. Equating Ukraine with Russia as mere “liabilities” has emboldened the Kremlin and weakened U.S. credibility. Instead, Washington and Europe should join forces in imposing robust sanctions that genuinely strike at the heart of Russia’s economy—and then offer partial relief if Moscow shows readiness to distance itself from Beijing. Another vital element is reducing Europe’s energy dependence on Russia, which strengthens Europe’s negotiating position. In parallel, certain aspects of NATO deployments in Eastern Europe could be renegotiated, provided there are verifiable Russian concessions that reduce the Kremlin’s alignment with China.
Over the long run, ensuring stability in Eastern Europe requires a credible nuclear deterrent—often referred to as a “nuclear umbrella.” Under such an arrangement, a nuclear-armed ally pledges to defend a partner nation, effectively deterring aggression by raising the risks involved for any would-be attacker. Although France does maintain its own warheads, that stockpile is significantly smaller than Russia’s, making it insufficient on its own to shield vulnerable states. Consequently, without active American support—and potentially a thorough overhaul of NATO’s defense commitments—any enduring peace in Ukraine is likely to remain beyond reach.