Might the power of St Peter’s help close a deal for Ukraine?
DONALD TRUMP marks his first 100 days back in power seemingly without the fix to the Ukrainian war he had once promised to secure on his first day. But the American diplomatic dial remains turned to max, with the secretary of state, Marco Rubio, describing the next seven days as “critical” and (again) threatening to walk away if there is no result. So far, talks have not squared the circle: reconciling Ukrainian insistence on security guarantees with a Russian desire for a public capitulation. But those close to the table speak of a new momentum. For the first time, Ukrainian negotiators are cautiously optimistic. “We are trying to improve our position,” says a senior Ukrainian official. “But there is bluffing on all sides. And the danger is someone overplays their hand.”
Ukraine’s fragile confidence does not stem from a belief that Mr Trump is about to deliver peace for the ages. Rather it comes from a shift in mood; a sense that the American president may finally have got Vladimir Putin’s number, and just might, after months of threats and blackmail, have begun to respect his Ukrainian counterpart. A meeting in Rome between Mr Trump and Volodymyr Zelensky, brokered by the French, with the Ukrainian travelling only after receiving last-minute confirmation, produced a striking photograph of the two men sitting in St Peter’s Basilica, locked in conversation as apparent political equals.
Ukrainian sources say Mr Zelensky used his 15 minutes to deliver a simple message: Ukraine is ready for an unconditional ceasefire, Russia is not, and Mr Trump should not abandon a peace that only he can deliver. A social-media post written by the American president afterwards suggested he got the message. His performative rebuke of Mr Putin for “tapping [him] along” was his strongest yet.
The Russian response has been underwhelming. An American official says the White House is unimpressed by Mr Putin’s latest proposal of a three-day ceasefire around Russia’s Victory Day on May 9th; the idea was also shrugged off by Mr Trump’s press secretary, Karoline Leavitt, in televised remarks. A mass missile attack on Kyiv on April 24th, in which a North Korean-produced missile killed at least 12 people, visibly angered the president. “At the start of the process, Trump was very frustrated with Zelensky,” the American source says. “Now that has switched to Putin.” The Ukrainians have rejected the offer of the limited ceasefire, and appeared to delight in the clarity of their position. “If Russia truly wants peace, it must cease fire immediately,” wrote foreign minister Andriy Sibiha in a social-media post. “Why wait until May 8th?”
Last week negotiations in London that few predicted would be productive—the low expectations meant that Mr Rubio skipped them—brought Ukrainian and Western technical negotiations closer than ever. The formal terms of an embryonic Trump peace proposal, leaked to the press, still appear impossible for the Ukrainians. They include America’s legal recognition of Russia’s annexation of Crimea and the removal of its sanctions without any obvious promise of a lasting peace. But the Ukrainians were happier with talks behind the scenes, and the more detailed discussions about a Western security contingent inside Ukraine, covering sea, air and even land, which, despite reports to the contrary, remains on the table. There was general agreement and joint work on a counter-proposal delaying territorial negotiations until after a ceasefire, as well as providing a clause to re-introduce sanctions if Russia breaks its terms. The Ukrainians understand that it will be hard for Mr Trump to push legal recognition of Crimea past Congress without their agreement. One Western official expressed hope a ceasefire deal might be produced as early as this week.
Russia has also moved its red lines somewhat, publicly accepting the idea of direct negotiations with the Zelensky administration that it once derided as illegitimate. But elsewhere its public positions have hardened, and it has returned to what it does best: slowly discussing “details”. On April 28th, Sergei Lavrov, the foreign minister, said Russia needed full recognition of all its annexed territories, including parts of four provinces that it does not completely control. He also spoke about the need in Ukraine for demilitarisation and “denazification”, a term that had largely disappeared from his discourse.
That tough rhetoric probably reflects a confidence that Russia can get what it wants by continuing its war of attrition and psychological exhaustion. It may turn out to be dangerous, given Mr Trump’s strong desire to strike peace. But it would be unwise to suggest that it is game over for the Russians, who have shown skill in offering the Americans canny and corrupt business deals far beyond the scope of Ukraine. Mr Putin surely understands that he needs Mr Trump to remain engaged in peace negotiations—if only because it means the further normalisation of relations—and will probably try to make an accommodation.
There is no sign that the American president is ready to follow through on threats to turn the heat up on the Russians, which he has often made in the past without consequence. Mr Trump has trailed the idea of introducing secondary sanctions on the buyers of Russian oil. Others have suggested he could even extend military support to the Ukrainians, which will slow to a trickle in about a month as the existing funding runs out. But the posture appears performative. History suggests that a conversation between the two strongmen might well put things back on track for the Kremlin. “Half of our job in the first term was to stop him talking to Putin,” says one Republican-appointed official. “We understood Russia plays the man like a fiddle.” ■