EDITOR'S CORNER: Russia's Tsar Legitimized By Trump

On Friday, 15 August, we had the Alaska summit. The internet is overflowing with analysis and commentary from experts on what went down. Trump and Putin—or is it Putin leading Trump on a leash? As expected, no concrete decisions came out of the meeting, but a key message was delivered.

In this blog post, I’ll share my perspective on why this moment was significant—not just for Putin, but also as a turning point in Trump’s story.

Trump and Putin greeted each other on the tarmac 

 THE SUMMIT ANNOUNCED

First, let’s get into the backstory. Trump is desperate to win a Nobel Peace Prize—for his delusional "efforts" to stop wars. In his mind, he’s already ended countless conflicts during his brief time in the White House: Iran and Israel, Azerbaijan and Armenia, Rwanda and Congo, Cambodia and Thailand, Serbia and Kosovo, even India and Pakistan over Kashmir. By his own tally, he’s basically stopped a war a month.

But his biggest ambition is to "end" the war in Ukraine. Not through real diplomacy, and certainly not by backing Ukraine until Russia is forced to retreat with its tail between its legs—that’s not his style. Instead, he wants to pressure Zelenskyy into capitulation and corner Europe. We’ve seen this time and again in his open disdain for the European Union. His vice president, JD Vance, even attacked Europe for supposedly lacking freedom—while conveniently ignoring the repression in places like Russia and China.

So when the Russian terrorist dictator, Vladimir Putin, requested a meeting after Steve Witkoff’s visit to Moscow, Trump leapt at the opportunity. The summit was thrown together in less than a week, with no time for real preparation. Normally, weeks of groundwork and negotiations happen before such meetings, with leaders arriving only to rubber-stamp the deals. This time, there was nothing of the sort. 

Speculation quickly swirled over what would actually be discussed at the summit. European leaders were left sweating with worry, while Zelenskyy was thrown into a frenzy after being excluded. The concern was obvious: no one knew how far Trump might go in extending rope to Putin without first consulting his allies.

By Thursday, Trump met with Zelenskyy and several European counterparts, and that conversation seemed to rein him in—at least somewhat.

THE SUMMIT

Putin and Trump met in Anchorage, Alaska, on a U.S. military base. The location was meant to look symbolic—halfway between the two leaders, so they both "sacrificed" a similar amount of travel time. And of course, Alaska was once Russian territory, sold off by a broke Tsar desperate to fund yet another disastrous war. For Putin, the setting must have been a cruel reminder: Russia’s empire once stretched this far, and now he’s reduced to nursing fantasies of lost glory.

Trump, naturally, treated the whole thing like a parade in his honor. He had the U.S. Army roll out a red carpet—yes, America’s soldiers, unfurling a rug for Vladimir Putin, an indicted war criminal. Jets were parked for display like toys at an air show. The most powerful military in the world on its knees for Trump’s photo op—it was humiliating for the generals and laughable to everyone else.

And because Trump can’t resist pageantry, a U.S. bomber and several jets flew overhead as Putin arrived. Trump clapped wildly, beaming like a fanboy at a pop concert, as if his idol had just taken the stage.

Originally, there was supposed to be a private session with only Trump, Putin, and their translators—but that was scrapped. The summit itself, planned for six hours, was cut down to three. A working lunch between the Russian and American delegations was also cancelled. The final press conference amounted to little more than staged statements; the press wasn’t allowed to ask questions. Then, just as quickly as they had arrived, Trump and Putin boarded their planes and left.

Nothing was announced. Trump mentioned a future "trilateral" meeting with Putin and Zelenskyy, though the Russians immediately said it wasn’t on the agenda. He also announced he would not impose any new sanctions on Russia—or on countries buying Russian oil, like China and India. Putin spoke about Ukraine as if it were Russia’s "brother" and called the war a "wound" to his country. Trump, in turn, said it was now up to Zelenskyy to continue the conversation and praised Russia as a great military and nuclear power.

MY THOUGHTS 

The aftermath left me nauseated. Nothing of real substance had been achieved, yet the spectacle made one thing abundantly clear: the priorities were not Ukraine or European interests.

Rumors about Russia having leverage over Trump have been around for years, and today’s events made that possibility feel more credible than ever. Agent Krasnov’s alliances were on full display this week. But beyond speculation, the summit itself was a disgusting display of legitimizing Russia as a world power and Putin as someone worthy of a place on the global stage.

In the end, the clear winner of these bilateral discussions—because that’s what it ultimately was—was Putin. He returned to Russia able to showcase his strength, Russia’s importance, and the image of victory. "Look at us!" the message seemed to say. "We impressed the world’s greatest power. We are winning over Ukraine. And soon, Europe will follow."

When Europe inevitably adopts a stance contrary to Trump’s, Russia will be cast as the aggrieved party, while Putin will have full legitimacy to rally his citizens for further conflict with NATO and Europe. Why? Because it will look like America abandons its allies whenever they disagree with Trump, and Putin can present himself as the victor—all while using Trump’s praise and camaraderie as proof that his approach is endorsed by the world’s most powerful leader.

CONCLUSION 

In the end, the Alaska summit was less a diplomatic breakthrough and more a spectacle of deference. Nothing was resolved, alliances were sidelined, and Russia emerged the clear winner, with Trump serving as an unwitting amplifier of Putin’s power. The event left a troubling impression: that American leadership—and its commitment to allies—can be overshadowed by one president’s personal ambitions and affinities.