Several narratives have emerged from the Donald Trump-Volodymyr Zelensky-J.D. Vance dust-up in the Oval office, the most disturbing being the opinion that “Zelensky invited it”. To my mind, this is the foreign affairs equivalent of the despicable view that women invite rape by dressing provocatively.
Another specious argument would have us believe that Zelensky didn’t “read the room”, that his inflated sense of self, pumped up by global attention over the last three years, led him astray. He should have learnt from Keir Starmer and Emmanuel Macron, who had deflected difficult situations in the Oval Office just before his meeting. He should have been suitably deferential, smiled ingratiatingly, flattered Trump and licked a couple of shoes. And, of course, he should have bent his knee instead of aiming it at Vance’s sensitive zone.
Both narratives miss the point. They presume that the fundamentals of diplomatic dealing are still in place, or only in temporary abeyance. They believe that a judicial mix of personal charm, dutiful deference and polite public posturing will still carry the day, that if only Zelensky had worn a suit, preferably American cut, and said “thank you” at the beginning of every sentence, Trump would have behaved rationally and read his own talking points and not Putin’s.
Imaging: Deni Lal
But we ignore what Jeeves would have called the psychology of the individual. When the killer is out on the heath he does not care about the fall of your trousers. You can lick a bully’s double-soled boots and he can kick you in the teeth with the same gleaming toe-cap. The spat had nothing to do with the fundamental issues of the Russia-Ukraine conflict and everything to do with the ‘deal’; in a recent 27 second video clip, Trump used the word ‘deal’ seven times—yes, I counted. And every time Zelensky’s references to security assurances cast a shadow on that deal, Trump and Vance went for the jugular. It was clear that what mattered was not sovereignty, not dignity, not strategy or even security, but the gigantic quantities of rare earths that lie in Ukrainian soil. The thinly disguised intention was simply to grab this new-age treasure and throw the putrefying remains of decency, diplomacy and democracy in the ugly pit left behind. And Zelensky meanwhile could just kowtow.
The world is willy-nilly having to adjust to the new truth: international rules of engagement are no longer sacrosanct. The Europeans are regrouping, Vladimir Putin has settled down to the show with his family-sized bowl of popcorn and Xi Jinping is bracing with coiled strength for what the future may bring; others are hoping to ride out the storm by keeping their heads down. Only time will decide the winners, or even the survivors.
But one man deserves our fulsome admiration: Lech Wałęsa. This electrician from Gdansk shipyard-turned Solidarity leader who ended up as president of democratic Poland expressed his unvarnished “horror and distaste” at Trump’s treatment of Zelensky. In an open letter, co-signed by several democracy activists, including Solidarity heroes Bogdan Lis and Adam Michnik, he termed the repeated demands for Zelensky’s gratitude “insulting” and likened the Trump-Vance whip-lashing to interrogations by communist-era security services.
Wałęsa should know something about resistance. Solidarity, inspired by Gandhian methods of civil resistance, brought the Soviet-backed communist regime to its knees. In fact, when Solidarity, with Wałęsa at the head, swept back into the Polish parliament in 1989, the Indian ambassador was one of the first, if not the first, to meet him. Your columnist, present at the meeting, recalls Wałęsa’s warm references to Mahatma Gandhi’s inspiration. That inspiration clearly lives on. And given Trump’s random remarks on India, we, too, would do well to keep it handy.
The writer is former ambassador to the US.