Trump’s ‘peace’ doctrine: a reality show at Ukraine’s expense
For small EU countries like Malta, which are price-takers in international relations, the Trump-Zelensky confrontation highlights the difficulty of maintaining a neutral or balanced diplomatic stance
The spectacle in the Oval Office on Friday 1 March wasn’t just a tense diplomatic exchange: it was a full-blown humiliation ritual, choreographed by sheriffs Trump and Vance to showcase their version of “tough leadership”.
Instead of a statesmanlike discussion, Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelensky found himself subjected to a public berating, accused of ingratitude, and pressured to cut a deal with the very force that invaded his country.
Trump’s vision of ‘peace in Ukraine’ is simple: trust Vladimir Putin, downplay Ukraine’s suffering, and demand that Kiev foot the bill for American aid. The so-called minerals deal, which reeked of a mafia-style shakedown, is now in limbo. And with Washington’s support growing uncertain, Ukraine faces an increasingly precarious path forward.
The message from the White House was clear: this is not the America of old. When Vance dismissed Zelensky’s concerns about Russia’s repeated violations of agreements, he wasn’t just shutting down a diplomatic debate – he was signaling a profound shift in U.S. foreign policy, one that prioritises appeasing Moscow over standing by democratic allies.
And for Europe, the implications are stark. The post-WWII global order, once anchored in alliances and shared security commitments, is being rewritten in real-time. Trump’s foreign policy isn’t guided by historical lessons or strategic alliances – it is driven by transactionalism and personal spectacle.
If this is the new world order, Europe may soon find itself standing alone.
A new order: diplomacy through submission?
Did the brave Ukrainian leader Volodymyr Zelensky perhaps slip up on a few micro-exchanges with Trump? Did he underestimate their vehement will to bully him into submission?
It was apparent from the get-go that Trump wanted to belittle this American ally, greeting him at the door of the White House by patronising him for wearing his traditional wartime fatigues – an observation fed to a right-wing journalist inside the Oval Office, who used his question to keep up the disrespectful treatment of Zelensky.
Zelensky must have been aware that he was entering a meeting with an American leadership that had pivoted sharply toward a more isolationist and transactional approach to foreign affairs. Trump’s rhetoric about Ukraine’s reliance on U.S. military aid – embellished with exaggerated claims about Ukraine’s survival timeline without it – wasn’t just posturing; it was a declaration of dominance.
So was Zelensky – while being right – naïve in ‘fact-checking’ J.D. Vance by highlighting Russia’s history of violating agreements? For it was here that Vance gleefully seized the opportunity to rebuke him, branding the Ukrainian leader as “ungrateful”.
That moment revealed the crux of Trump-era diplomacy: allies, particularly those reliant on U.S. security guarantees, must navigate their relationships with America under a vastly different power dynamic. The traditional rules of diplomacy – wherein respect and negotiation create the framework for cooperation – have been replaced by a hierarchy in which Washington dictates terms unilaterally. Any attempt to advocate for national interests that deviate from Trump’s vision risks a public dressing-down, as Zelensky experienced first-hand.
For Ukraine, the situation is dire. Faced with the existential threat of Russian aggression, Kieve still cannot afford to alienate a military benefactor.
Yet, under Trump, maintaining U.S. support now appears to require a willingness to endure not just tough negotiations – but outright humiliation and grovelling. In this new order, sovereignty and dignity become secondary to appeasing Washington’s demands.
The broader implications for global diplomacy are profound.
If even a wartime ally facing an existential crisis must bow to Trump’s theatrics, how will smaller nations with fewer geopolitical stakes fare? We can already see European leaders – long accustomed to U.S. partnership – will be next in line for public rebukes should they resist Trump’s agenda…
But this was also true of American foreign policy behaviour towards its own allies historically, anyway. Even in Malta, the U.S. government has many times attempted to consolidate its security interests with far-reaching sanctions that often appeared to be enforcing rules a lackadaisical Maltese government was unprepared to enforce.
Ultimately, the lesson from this encounter is stark: for those who need America, the art of diplomacy now includes the art of submission.
Malta’s balancing act
For small EU countries like Malta, which are price-takers in international relations, the Trump-Zelensky confrontation highlights the increasing difficulty of maintaining a neutral or balanced diplomatic stance.
The cautious language of prime minister Robert Abela and foreign minister Ian Borg – the latter offering to host peace talks for Russia and Ukraine but stopping short of public support for Zelensky – is the reflection of a bitter reality in international politics.
Unlike larger European nations that have the leverage to push back against Trump’s shifting foreign policy, smaller states must tread carefully, often prioritising pragmatism over principled declarations.
And if Keir Starmer, the head of a nuclear power, can go to the Oval Office and brown-nose Trump… well, a micro-state with limited influence can only go as far to position itself as a neutral mediator, rather than a direct participant.
Even shadow foreign minister Beppe Fenech Adami acknowledged as much on RTK’s Andrew Azzopardi last week: the intense lobbying that takes place with foreign chanceries means that under Trump’s presidency, siding too openly with Ukraine could invite unwanted political or economic repercussions from Washington.
Not that neutrality does not have its risks: Malta may be seen as opportunistic by avoiding taking a clear position on these momentous issues at a time when European unity on foreign policy is being tested. But then again, which country will cast the first stone? The hypocrisy of Europe on occupied Palestine contrasted with Ukraine, is there for all to see.
The horrid lesson of the week is that Trump’s transactional approach to diplomacy means smaller nations might be condemned to open deference, perhaps having to decide whether their best bet is silence, neutrality, or calculated alignment with Washington’s evolving stance.
Clearly under Trump, alliances are no longer about shared values or mutual interests but about deference and submission. Diplomacy is now more precarious, and maintaining relationships with this ‘great power’ mentality requires a delicate balance between pragmatism and principle.
For European leaders, the challenge now is two-fold: maintaining a united front in support of Ukraine while navigating an increasingly erratic and transactional White House. The EU’s ability to step up and fill the void left by a retreating U.S. will determine whether it can sustain its credibility as a global power.
But can nations resist the gravitational pull of Trump’s transactionalism? Smaller states will probably do their best to fly below the American radar, for the Oval Office encounter shows that those who choose resistance may have a long and difficult road ahead.