President Donald Trump has never been known for consistency, but his latest pronouncement on Ukraine takes his mercurial tendencies to a new height. Eight months into his second term, he now claims that Ukraine, with NATO’s help, can drive Russia out of the territory it has occupied for more than three years.
Coming from a man who has alternately declared Ukraine doomed and Russia invincible, this sudden optimism is less strategy than whim. Trump’s foreign policy has always been transactional, shaped more by grievance and impulse than by analysis.
Former aides confirm what has long been evident: his positions often arise from personal pique or the feeling that someone has disrespected him. What he says today may have no bearing on what he believes tomorrow. Allies are left bewildered, adversaries take note of the chaos, and America’s credibility erodes further.
Beneath the bluster, Trump’s declaration betrays fatigue and failure. He has been unable to coax Vladimir Putin to the negotiating table, and his dream of striding the world stage as a great peacemaker has evaporated. Instead of devising a coherent policy, he now seems eager to step away from the conflict altogether, leaving Ukraine with little more than rhetorical encouragement.
On the very day Trump made his sweeping claim, secretary of state Marco Rubio, doubling as national security adviser, repeated the administration’s established view: the war cannot be won militarily and will end only through negotiations. The mixed messages expose not only dysfunction at the top but also a president unwilling to listen to his advisers. Worse, Trump has offered no real policy change.
There is no push for a ceasefire, no concrete steps to restart talks, and no additional sanctions on Russia. His vague threat of tariffs, conditional on Europe halting all energy imports from Moscow, is nothing but bluster. NATO continues to carry the military burden, while Washington indulges in soundbites.
The danger lies in Trump’s wild oscillations. One moment Ukraine is hopelessly overmatched, the next Russia is a “paper tiger”. Such swings trivialise a devastating war and reduce complex geopolitics to campaign slogans.
They also signal to Moscow that America’s commitment can be doubted and to Kyiv that the US support depends on Trump’s mood rather than national interest. Ukraine cannot afford this inconsistency. With martial law still in force and President Zelensky’s term technically expired, the country faces enormous internal pressures.
Yet, if Ukrainians manage to hold elections, it would prove that their democracy has deeper roots than America’s erratic patronage. In the end, Trump’s zigzags do more than confuse allies; they diminish America’s standing as a serious power. A president who governs by impulse is not just undermining Ukraine’s fight for survival—he is squandering the US leadership in a world that once looked to Washington for steadiness.
