And yet, a cooler look at the Trump-Putin summit in Alaska on Friday allows for a sigh of relief: it could have been worse.
Ukraine was not sold out to the leader of today’s Evil Empire. There was no Munich 2.0. At least not yet.
Putin achieved two things. First, he broke through his diplomatic isolation. While the Russian dictator has traveled abroad since launching his war of aggression against Ukraine, his trips were largely limited to the post-Soviet sphere or fellow members of the authoritarian axis of evil—North Korea, China and the like.
Apart from a 2022 visit to Armenia, a struggling democracy, Putin’s arrival in Alaska was his first appearance in the Free World.
Worse still, he was greeted by his host, the leader of the Free World, with pomp and warmth. Many gestures—including Trump’s decision to address him by his first name—were unnecessary and left a bitter taste.
One can, of course, understand Trump’s intentions. He assumed that a friendly atmosphere might soften the Russian guest and coax him into concessions. But that was naïve, as Trump’s entire approach to Russia in his second term has been.
The fundamental error is assuming Putin acts rationally by Western standards. In any normal democracy, 200,000 dead, nearly a million wounded, and massive economic losses would prompt serious questions about whether the war was worth it—especially given such meager territorial gains.
But Russia is no normal state. For Putin, these losses are irrelevant. For most Russians too, so long as they can cling to the dream of empire.
German-American political scientist Hans Morgenthau once described this phenomenon: people who live in a dictatorship, powerless, poor, and disrespected by their rulers, can still take pride in the illusion of belonging to a mighty empire.
They can swig their moonshine, chew on pork fat and onions in their crumbling houses, and nod along to propaganda about how the world bows before “Mother Russia.” It is projection: if you are nobody in your own country, you can still feel big because your country claims to be great.
Trump’s illusions don’t stop there. He still entertains the fantasy that Russia can be flipped into America’s camp in its global rivalry with China, or that Moscow can somehow persuade Iran to soften its nuclear stance.
Such hopes are delusional. And while Trump did eventually shift his position on sanctions against Russia and military aid to Ukraine—suggesting he may have recognized his mistake—he is famously incapable of admitting error, even to himself.
The post-summit press conference offered Putin a nauseating platform: platitudes about “good-neighborly” U.S.–Russia relations and even talk of a “shared heritage” in Alaska.
Half his remarks were historical rambling, while journalists wanted only to know when he would stop killing. Meanwhile, Russian drones were again striking Ukrainian civilians. Both Putin and Trump spoke of an “agreement,” but offered no specifics.
Trump shielded his bloodstained guest from the tough questions that would have shattered the cozy mood. American media were almost unanimous in condemning Putin’s visit, noting even petty provocations such as Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov’s sweatshirt emblazoned with “USSR.”
Trump doesn’t get it. He thinks the war is about a few provinces in eastern Ukraine, when in reality Russia’s goal is imperial restoration. Putin wants a pause in the fighting, sanctions relief to rebuild his strength, and then the chance to strike again.
That was Putin’s second achievement in Alaska: time. Trump had threatened harsher sanctions. Thanks to the summit, those are on hold—for now.
But Putin also left disappointed. Above all, he had hoped Trump would agree to Russia’s seizure of Ukrainian territory, making Zelensky the scapegoat for prolonging the war. That did not happen. Not yet.
Trump will now meet Zelensky and America’s European allies.
Putin, meanwhile, has invited Trump to Moscow. One can only hope that visit never takes place.
After World War II, President Harry Truman branded the Soviet Union an Evil Empire to be fought, not flattered. His successor, Dwight Eisenhower, took a different tack and welcomed Nikita Khrushchev to America in 1959. Yet the Cold War dragged on until the Evil Empire collapsed.
The lesson should not be forgotten. Our task is clear: arm ourselves.
Witold Repetowicz
The author is an assistant professor at the War Studies University in Warsaw.
Witold Repetowicz. Photo: PR24/AK