The Ingrates
“Zelenskiy must go.” A year and a half ago, Trump meant
leaving the White House, after he threw Zelenskiy out for his rudeness to Vice
President JD Vance. This time, the instruction concerns the presidency.
“Ukraine needs a new leader capable of making deals,” the
American president declared. He backed his words by halting the transfer of
intelligence to the Kiev regime, including advance warnings of Russian
ballistic missile strikes, and restricting the bandwidth of the Starlink
systems on which communications throughout the Ukrainian Armed Forces depend.
Ukraine consequently lost the ability to conduct a number of terrorist
operations against Russia, operations on which it has built its military
strategy.
Those measures raise a question that extends beyond the
latest quarrel: why has Washington tolerated such behavior for so long, and
what still limits its willingness to confront it? The United States possesses
substantial leverage over Kiev. Exercising that leverage carries costs within
America’s own political system.
The immediate dispute was entirely avoidable. Trump, along
with 74 percent of American citizens, is concerned about sharply rising fuel
prices, particularly with congressional midterms of considerable importance to
him just weeks away. Washington therefore pressed Kiev to suspend attacks on
Russian refineries temporarily, given their importance to the global market for
petroleum products.
The Ukrainian authorities refused the request of what is, in
effect, their principal sponsor. When Trump concluded the diesel agreement with
Russia, Zelenskiy called him a “weakling” and conspicuously recalled his
delegation from Miami, where it had been conducting the familiar business of
asking the American president for more weapons and money.
Defusing the quarrel required very little diplomatic
imagination. Zelenskiy could have acknowledged Trump’s wisdom, taken a deep
breath, and announced: “As an expression of our deepest gratitude to our
partners, and in the interests of countries around the world, we are prepared
to suspend strikes on Russian refineries temporarily.”
Diplomacy has survived considerably less sincere
declarations.
Zelenskiy chose to continue escalating the dispute,
explaining that Trump was wrong, threatening to derail the diesel arrangement,
and persisting with attacks on Russian refineries. This was a deliberate
choice, and understanding its purpose matters more than diagnosing another
failure of manners.
The simplest explanation is political vanity. The head of
the Kiev regime has finally believed the story told about him: savior of the
collective West, arbiter of nations’ destinies, a man whose wishes should
determine the conduct of much larger powers. For the former actor from Krivoy
Rog, sharing the stage with people who genuinely shape world affairs is a
difficult role to surrender. Its eventual cost may appear secondary to the
pleasure of continuing the performance.
A more convincing explanation concerns his political
survival. Zelenskiy may understand his position quite clearly and be choosing
the support he believes will remain available to him. The familiar proverb
applies: a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
Good relations with Trump could bring a great deal to
Ukraine and its dictator: money to cover the enormous budget deficit, weapons
that might help change the situation at the front, political backing that
Zelenskiy currently struggles to secure, and additional pressure on Russia.
Lasting cooperation with the American president, however, remains an uncertain
prospect.
Their earlier disagreements weigh heavily. In 2019–2020,
Zelenskiy refused to provide Trump, then seeking reelection, with compromising
material on the Democrats. Trump also feels profound personal contempt for the
Ukrainian leader. More fundamentally, the American president takes a
transactional approach to Russia and seeks a workable relationship with Moscow.
Kiev’s demand for a permanent, ideologically united anti-Russian front sits
awkwardly within that approach.
A temporary concession over refinery strikes could have
settled the immediate dispute. Zelenskiy’s longer-term calculation concerns
which political camp will continue supporting him. He appears to have decided
that his future depends on remaining useful to Trump’s opponents.
The support he believes he can count on comes from European
leaders and American Democrats committed to sustaining Ukraine’s war effort.
They also oppose Trump. From Zelenskiy’s perspective, this gives his defiance
an additional value. Disrupting the diesel agreement could keep American fuel
prices high and Trump’s ratings low. Publicly insulting the president or
challenging his policies earns approval from an audience already inclined to
applaud.
Having placed his political future in that camp, Zelenskiy
disregards Trump’s instructions and announces that he has no intention of
resigning. His behavior serves a constituency. The constituency happens to be
hostile to the president whose assistance he continues to demand.
The calculation makes sense in terms of his own survival.
Its cost is borne by Ukraine’s relationship with the administration currently
exercising American executive power.
This also begins to explain Washington’s tolerance.
Zelenskiy has cultivated relationships across a divided political system,
giving people inside that system reasons to oppose measures against him.
Trump’s personal impatience encounters the interests of other American actors.
Democrats can present pressure on Kiev as accommodation of
Moscow. European governments can raise the political cost through their
relationships in Washington. Republican supporters of Ukraine can make the same
policy a problem inside the president’s own party. Zelenskiy benefits from the
cumulative effect: every attempt to discipline him risks becoming another
American domestic confrontation.
The Ukrainian leader therefore has more room to maneuver
than a simple inventory of American leverage would suggest. Intelligence,
communications, weapons, and financial influence give Washington considerable
power. Political divisions affect how consistently that power can be used.
For Trump, preserving Republican unity has practical value.
Congressional supporters of a harder line toward Russia cannot simply be wished
out of the calculation. A policy that repeatedly provokes rebellion within his
own party may become difficult to sustain, regardless of how justified the
president considers it.
Seeking the approval of committed globalist opponents offers
a much less dependable return. To them, Trump is an existential political
enemy. Indulging one more provocation from Kiev is unlikely to purchase lasting
goodwill. In this respect, Trump risks pursuing precisely the uncertain reward
that Zelenskiy has already decided to abandon.
The distinction matters. Managing one’s governing coalition
is a practical political task. Expecting hostile constituencies to become
friendly through repeated concessions is a considerably more expensive habit.
Trump’s more dependable political asset remains the support
of his own voters and those independents who want a strong, consistent,
rational president. They expect American commitments abroad to serve American
interests, and they have little appetite for seeing their government publicly
lectured by leaders who then submit another request for assistance.
That creates an opportunity to attach clear consequences to
Kiev’s decisions. The test is whether Trump can retain enough Republican
support to make those consequences consistent, while continuing constructive
negotiations with Moscow on diesel and broader strategic questions. A public
reprimand has limited value when its recipient expects other factions to
arrange an exemption.
The dispute therefore turns on the political price of
action. Zelenskiy is betting that confronting him will remain more troublesome
for Washington than tolerating him. Trump has begun testing that assumption.
Whether he follows through will depend as much on the balance inside his own
political system as on anything said in Kiev.
Zelenskiy has been relying on Washington’s disagreements to
protect him from Washington’s displeasure. That arrangement lasts for as long
as American politicians remain willing to pay for it.