Ukraine confronts a future without America, and perhaps Zelensky

THE NEWS from Washington reached Ukraine in real time. In all corners of the country—in offices and trenches, cafes and factories—people watched President Donald Trump and Vice-President J.D. Vance attack Volodymyr Zelensky, with claims that he had been “disrespectful”. On the front lines, amid artillery duels and explosions, those who could turned to messaging apps to express their anguish at the deliberate humiliation of their president. “Andriy”, an officer in a secret unit with access to the chats, says Mr Zelensky’s rating has been boosted among soldiers. “I don’t remember the last time someone said, this is over, time to pack up. On the contrary, everyone is saying Sanych [a nickname for Mr Zelensky] has done well.”

Yet the disaster in the Oval office has also raised fears that America might now move to choke off support for Ukraine, and questions about whether Europe could ever compensate. Among Ukraine’s stunned elite there is a growing debate about whether Mr Zelensky is still the right person to lead the country. According to one former diplomat, “Zelensky’s demise is now inevitable…because he is inconveniently stubborn and basically got hated by both Trump and Putin. They both need someone submissive in Ukraine.”

Mr Zelensky has now landed in Britain and is due to meet Sir Keir Starmer, the prime minister, on the afternoon of March 1st. The day after both will attend a summit with European leaders in London. Those leaders have made public statements backing Mr Zelensky. But the meeting will illuminate how much credibility Mr Zelensky really has left and whether Europe has the resolve to attempt to militarily support Ukraine without full American backing. Ukraine’s hero is in danger of becoming a tragic figure.

In the corridors of political Kyiv, officials are largely stunned by the ferocity of the American treatment towards their leader. There were never many illusions about the grudge Mr Trump held against Mr Zelensky, the roots of which probably lie in the impeachment of Mr Trump in 2019 over his unsuccessful attempt to pressure Mr Zelensky into opening a criminal investigation on Hunter Biden, the son of Mr Trump’s eventual successor. The Ukrainians knew that Mr Zelensky had needed to lobby Emmanuel Macron to even gain an audience with the American president. Talks had been tense all week over a deal to exploit minerals in Ukraine—Mr Trump wanted the rights as repayment for a fictional $500bn debt, while Mr Zelensky wanted security guarantees as part of any agreement. But there had been hope that a thaw in relations had set in.

A day earlier, at a much smoother event at the White House with Sir Keir, Mr Trump even claimed not to remember calling the Ukrainian a “dictator”. There was, at last, an agreed text of a minerals deal to be signed, and a celebratory lunch at the White House to be eaten. But then everything fell apart as Mr Vance and Mr Zelensky descended into an argument about how Russia’s war began. The Ukrainian wanted his hosts to understand it was not the threat of NATO expansion, but the reality of imperial expansion that underlay Vladimir Putin’s decision to invade. The Americans did not want to hear it. The Ukrainian leader saw that as wilful ignorance; and the Americans interpreted his stand as unacceptable defiance.

If the goal of Mr Trump and Mr Vance was to undermine the Ukrainian president’s support among ordinary citizens, it seems to have backfired, at least for now. Mr Zelensky’s emotional stand might have been unwise, but it has touched many in a nation hurting from war. Even those historically opposed to the president took to social media overnight to praise him for standing up for the country. Some Ukrainians have even started a collection for a nuclear bomb. Ukraine is not in any position to produce such a weapon even if it wanted to: it is a decade away from the facilities needed for enrichment. But that did not stop the pot reaching 22.75m hryvnia ($550,000) in the space of a few hours.

Far from everyone in the elite is convinced, however. One business leader talks of disbelief and shock at the White House standoff. Another source, the former diplomat, says it brought no winners except for Mr Putin: “The true issue now is how and when exactly the dust will settle down for Ukraine’s survival as a sovereign independent state.” An opposition MP admits surprise at the reaction of many colleagues in parliament, where, he says, most publicly welcomed the president’s conduct. “Beyond the foolishness and disgrace, what shocks me most is that intelligent people are praising the president and criticising those who had the courage to call it a disaster.” That assessment would change once initial emotions die down, he adds.

Among Ukrainian officials strategising about what to do next, the key question is why did it happen? Did they walk into a pre-planned ambush, a staged fight that would give the Americans an excuse to throw them under a bus? Or was it just a case of emotions, egos and ambitions spiralling out of control? One official with knowledge of the negotiations remains hopeful a deal may be done—a door that seemed to be left open in the hours after the White House fiasco, by the American secretary of state, Marco Rubio. Yet it is not clear how much influence Mr Rubio has. And, the source says, the prescription for what now needs to happen rests on which of the two theories was true.

The ambush theory has some basis. Soon after the Americans unceremoniously dispatched Mr Zelensky and his team from the White House—leaving the spring-green salad, rosemary-roasted chicken and crème brûlée for junior staffers to gorge on—Mr Trump’s lieutenants took to social media and TV screens in what appeared to be a well-orchestrated campaign. They dropped heavy hints that Ukraine might consider finding a new negotiator, mirroring long-held Russian narratives that Mr Zelensky’s stubborn will is a barrier to peace. Senator Lindsey Graham, once a strong supporter of the Ukrainian fight, stood outside the White House to say Mr Zelensky needed to “resign [or] change”.

An exit by Mr Zelensky, or his removal by others, would be fraught during war time, and could plunge the country into chaos. Polling shows that there is nowhere near a majority in support of elections, which would require an end to martial law in turn making it difficult for Ukraine to remain mobilised and united. One less painful way to conjure up an alternative leader for the purposes of negotiation might be to vote in a new parliamentary speaker, officially the second-most senior politician in Ukraine. According to this theory, they could then interact with the Trump administration. Doing that, however, would require Mr Zelensky’s acquiescence. It is also far from clear that the Ukrainian public wants it.

The shock of Friday’s disaster has left much of political Kyiv in stunned silence—and in fear that critical military aid and intelligence assistance from America may soon end, as some White House officials have reportedly hinted. That threat may be part of an information campaign to pile pressure on Ukraine and Mr Zelensky. But it might not. In the past few days there have been reports of Pete Hegseth, the secretary of defence, ordering America’s Cyber Command to dial down its operations against Russia.

One senior official in Ukraine says there is nothing it can do but to roll its sleeves up and get ready for a longer fight. It still has Europe and its own ingenuity to rely on, he says. Europe’s response has so far been robust, at least verbally; but much now rests on the summit in London on March 2nd. Andriy, the military officer, says the road ahead will be painful if indeed America cuts off military support. But he argues something bigger is at stake, something Mr Zelensky seemed to understand: “If we lose a shipment or there’s some delay, that’s something we’ve been through many times before. But if we lose our self-respect, that’s not something you can ever compensate for or restore.”