A Ukraine Reset

What did you think multipolarity meant? Vibes? Papers? Essays?

Anthony J. Constantini is a political and foreign policy analyst. He holds an MA in International Relations and writes for Upward News. His work frequently appears in domestic and international publications.

President Donald Trump’s Oval Office meeting with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy is still sending reverberations around the world. As of this writing, aid to Ukraine is still halted, along with intelligence sharing. National Security Advisor Mike Waltz announced that both would remain paused until a date for peace talks with Russia was set.

These events, for many onlookers, have been a shock. President Zelenskyy obviously did not expect such blowback; if he had, he would likely have not elected to challenge Vice President JD Vance in the way he did. Likewise, European leaders were horrified by the argument between both leaders and the blocking of aid afterward, expressing surprise and dismay.

This surprise is baffling. After all, getting struck by lightning when holding a metal rod in the air might be a shocking experience. But it should not be particularly surprising. Likewise, while the meeting may have been shocking, just for its historical rarity (foreign leaders rarely bicker in public… that’s why these meetings usually have a public and a behind-closed-doors portion), there should have been no surprise at what happened, nor the aftermath.

After all, it has been close to a decade since Donald Trump first began to dominate American politics. Throughout the entirety of that period—and even further, going back to the 1980s—he has repeatedly expressed anger at the United States protecting countries that do not wish to protect themselves. He called NATO “obsolete” shortly before taking office the first time, was hesitant to embrace Article V (which requires NATO countries to defend one another if attacked), and, during the 2024 campaign, said he would let Russia “do whatever the hell they want” to countries that do not pay their fair share in terms of defense spending.

In office, the second Trump administration has also been far more unified in this combative approach. Whereas in his first term there were figures like former Defense Secretary Jim Mattis, former Vice President Mike Pence, and former Secretary of State Mike Pompeo—all of whom supported 20^th-century foreign policy thinking—the second administration is universally in step with Trump’s thinking. Vice President Vance, when running for Senate, said he did not care what happened in Ukraine. And in his confirmation hearing, Secretary of State Marco Rubio argued the international order was “a weapon being used against us.” Later, in an interview, he said the world had returned to a multipolar state, reverting from the Cold War anomaly of a bipolar world.

This last point is key to understanding the Trump administration’s foreign policy—and is also key to understanding why European leaders have been so surprised and unprepared for the events of the past few weeks.

A bipolar world—one split between the United States and the former Soviet Union—was relatively “easy” to balance within: you were communist or you were not communist. Both sides competed for the loyalty of the unaligned third world. This meant that the United States sometimes supported regimes it did not like or wars it was not overly enthusiastic about. It also meant it had to defend Europe; if Europe was overrun by communism (and the military might of the Soviet Union, which was significantly stronger than today’s Russian Federation), the thinking went it would soon reach America’s shores. It forced America into the role of busybody, one that the American people, post-Cold War, have gotten very sick of.

But a multipolar world, which features multiple “poles”—strong countries or alliances—requires more active balancing. Different poles—in Rubio’s telling, a pole each for Russia, China, and America (one could add Europe and, in a feasible future, India to the list) —all compete against one another, attempting to check each other to prevent one country from getting too powerful. This was the default for much of human history; different strong states competing and balancing against each other was simply the way things worked. The Cold War’s bipolarity—and the brief period post-Cold War when America was unchallenged—was the exception, not the rule. Decades after the (relative) simplicity of the Cold War, the Trump administration has correctly recognized that today’s world is multipolar.

Europeans shocked by this are shocked because they have not realized—or have not wanted to realize—that the world is now multipolar. Indeed, they seem to still be operating under bipolar thinking, in which the United States needs to defend Europe.

Zelenskyy clearly has not quite gotten the memo. His comment in the Oval that the U.S. would eventually feel the effects of the war—which is what brought Trump into the fray—was surely genuinely meant. For the past three years, Ukrainians have felt themselves the bulwark against Russian advance into the West, and Zelenskyy clearly believes in a “domino theory” of sorts: that if his country falls, then others will follow in a series until Russia reaches the shores of the United States.

But there are two problems with this view, one in substance and the other in presentation. The first is that the Trump administration, correctly, simply does not believe it. Ukraine, with Western aid, has been able to mostly hold back Russian forces for three years, and even repulsed them from Kyiv. It is difficult to fathom how Russia would advance beyond Ukraine, even if it were to fall, to make it through Poland—which possesses one of the strongest armies in Europe—Germany, Italy, France, and more (many of which are home to tens of thousands of American troops stationed and one of which, France, possesses nuclear weapons). This thinking also ignores the fact that, while Russia expanded the war in 2022 for a variety of reasons, one of its major causes was preventing Ukraine from joining NATO, as NATO membership and the threat of Article V would have made Ukraine untouchable. It does not hold, therefore, that Russia would suddenly be unafraid of attacking NATO nations if it were to win in Ukraine.

The second is that this posture comes across as a threat to the United States. Trump clearly seems to have taken it as such, as he angrily denied to Zelenskyy that he could know for sure that the war would come to America. The American people also seem to agree: one poll found that 62% of Americans were offended by Zelenskyy’s remark.

In a bipolar world—such as in the Cold War—Zelenskyy would have a leg to stand on. There, control of a key body of water like the Black Sea would truly matter; NATO saw both Turkey and Greece join at the same time in the early 1950s specifically because of this concern. But in a multipolar world, when the Russian pole is simply interested in Eastern Europe, control of the Black Sea—and therefore, Ukraine—is not incredibly important to American interests. The Black Sea is a key trade route, but the globe is full of them, and we do not need to have forces in all of them. Plus, Turkey, a NATO ally, controls the entrance to the Black Sea and much of its southern coasts. It is also important to remember that, for most of America’s existence, from the late 1700s until shortly after World War One, the Russian Empire existed as well. Throughout that time it dominated Eastern Europe, but America’s national security was unaffected.

This likely explains Zelenskyy’s refusal to apologize for the argumentation and his dismissive attitude afterward. Even stark allies like Senator Lindsey Graham (R-SC), perhaps one of the strongest Ukraine supporters in the Senate, received Zelenskyy’s ire. Graham had suggested Zelenskyy change tack on requesting American support, clearly detecting that the Oval Office blowup had been a disaster for American-Ukrainian relations. But Zelenskyy—who believes the US needs his country—dismissed Graham, saying he should move to Ukraine where “his voice will gain weight.”

The rest of Europe does not quite get it either. After the blowup, multiple European leaders posted the exact same pro-Zelenskyy message on X: “Your dignity honours the bravery of the Ukrainian people. Be strong, be brave, be fearless. You are never alone, dear President @ZelenskyyUa. We will continue working with you for a just and lasting peace.”

These leaders don’t seem willing to put their money where their tweets were. A series of emergency meetings afterward resulted in British Prime Minister Keir Starmer telling Zelenskyy he needed to patch things up with Trump. It also resulted in Starmer saying he would work on a peace plan with France, which they would then take to America. 

Other leaders across the continent responded much the same. EU Commission President Ursula von der Leyen put together a proposal which sounded impressive on paper: 150 billion euros in loans to EU countries for building up their militaries with a potential 800 billion pot in the future. But upon closer inspection, it was significantly less impressive. Over half of the 150 billion euros comes from unused COVID funds, already an example of Europe not wanting to spend fresh dough to arm Ukraine. And as for the 800 billion? It turns out that was simply a hypothetical number, which would only be reached if each member state decided to increase spending by a certain amount; essentially, it was just made up. Plus, such a plan would likely need to be agreed on by all 27 member states—a tall order.

This is not even to mention Europe picking up the tab for defending and arming Ukraine, a bill which America currently pays about half of. While exact numbers are hard to come by, even those most favorable to Europe—produced by the German Kiel Institute—still have America giving slightly more in military aid, 64 billion euros to Europe’s 62.

Later that week, when the 27 European Union members met to discuss von der Leyen’s plan, Europe reverted to its old self. In a wordy document, leaders “[took] note of the intention of the Commission” to allow for 150 billion euros of loans to be dispersed for defense spending. But instead of approving the plan, they invited themselves “to examine this proposal as a matter of urgency.” Left entirely unmentioned was the proposed 800 billion.

To actually prepare for multipolarity, Europe would need to seriously restructure its economy, likely having to cut back on nationalized sectors like healthcare and education. But it has been unwilling to do so. Politically, cutting health care or forcing Europeans to pay for education would be extremely unpopular among European voters; doing so would likely result in a European leader getting shot out of a metaphorical (but possibly literal) cannon. Plus, for most of recent history, there was no need: America paid for Europe’s defense. As a result of that long history, there is rampant disbelief that the United States now is going to look after its own pole and its own national interests. As recently discussed by American Compass’s Oren Cass and former British cabinet secretary Michael Gove, European officials were shocked by Vice President Vance’s speech at Munich, which lambasted European inaction.

Not that there should be disbelief of course, at least not now. President Trump, and even Democrats like former Presidents Barack Obama and Joe Biden, spent the last decade politically, or firmly, asking Europe to do more. Trump picking Vice President Vance, a major Ukraine skeptic, should have also made it clear to Europe. But due to the political difficulty of telling their voters the truth or out of a fear of imagining a world without American protection—they simply refused.

To navigate this brave new world, both Europe and Ukraine will need to start accepting the reality of a multipolar world and advertising themselves to the United States. This should not have been a surprise. Thunder has been rumbling for some time. It was inevitable that lightning would eventually strike.