Ukraine

They were the odd couple, one lumbering in his trademark oversized Brioni suit, the other ripped in his olive green military attire. The two had been engaged in a kind of mano-a-mano verbal combat before their official meeting in Manhattan at Trump Tower. It was getting ugly. Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky suggested that J.D. Vance’s plan, such as it was, for ending the war between Ukraine and Russia was “too radical.” Add in Zelensky’s visit to an armaments factory together with Pennsylvania governor Josh Shapiro, and Trump and his flunkeys went nuts. House Speaker Mike Johnson wrote a sniveling letter demanding the ouster of Ukrainian ambassador Oksana Marakarova.

Over the headline “Peace Mission,” a recent cover from the conservative Hungarian periodical Mandiner shows an awkwardly photoshopped Viktor Orbán mediating between a bemused-looking Vladimir Putin and a grim Volodymyr Zelensky. Behind Orbán, a map of the world connects Kyiv, Moscow, Beijing, Washington and Budapest. One of these capitals, as they say, is not like the others. Even before Ukraine’s Kursk offensive, the chances of Orbán’s July trips to Kyiv and Moscow producing a peace settlement were slim. The Mandiner cover, however, is a revealing window into the mindset of Orbán’s conservative fans. The idea of a Hungarian prime minister mediating between squabbling great powers is both attractive and plausible to many of Orbán’s fervent supporters.

NATO’s summit in Washington, DC will be full of pomp and circumstance. The gathering, from July 9-11, is intended in part to celebrate the Alliance’s seventy-fifth anniversary, a symbolic and emotional event for the leaders in attendance. You can expect the red carpet to cover the entire city. Dozens of speeches will be given about how NATO is the oldest and most successful military alliance in history and why the bloc remains a crucial check on Russian expansionism. Some will even claim matter-of-factly that NATO enlargement over the last twenty-five years — NATO has doubled its membership during that period of time — was sound policy and had nothing to do with Russia’s decision-making calculus on Ukraine.

Lord Cameron, the UK foreign secretary, is stopping off at Mar-a-Lago tonight before once again making the rounds in Washington, DC to tub-thump for Ukraine aid. Cameron, who served as Britain's prime minister from 2010 to 2016, is meeting with Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump, who has been skeptical about Ukraine’s prospects of beating back the Russian invaders. A spokesperson for the UK Foreign Office downplayed the significance of Cameron meeting Trump as "standard practice." “The foreign secretary is on his way to Washington DC, where he will hold discussions with US secretary of state Blinken, other Biden administration figures and members of Congress," the spokesperson said.

The drums of war are reverberating across Eastern Europe. Every geopolitical decision made by global powers carries immense weight. Amid the fear of growing conflict, one figure has emerged, wielding a sharp tongue and a pointed finger, challenging hesitant American lawmakers to bolster Ukraine’s defense against Russian aggression. Polish foreign minister Radek Sikorski has embarked on a media offensive, chastising Republicans for their reluctance to green-light the Biden administration’s proposed $60 billion military aid package for Ukraine. Despite his purported noble objectives, Sikorski’s appeal deserves closer examination.

If you didn’t know any better, you might think that Pope Francis was no longer welcome in Ukraine. His recent interview with a Swiss broadcaster, excerpts of which were released over the weekend, has caused a whirlwind of disappointment and anger in Ukrainian policy circles as well as with some of Ukraine’s staunchest supporters in the West. The subject of derision: whether Ukraine should do a little less fighting and a lot more talking. Asked to comment about the debate between those who seek a negotiated end to Russia’s two-year-long war in Ukraine and those who oppose such a stance, Pope Francis chose the side of dialogue.