The summit between US President Donald Trump and Russian President Vladimir Putin, held in Alaska on August 15, 2025, has significantly altered the trajectory of contemporary international diplomacy and recalls the atmosphere of US–Soviet presidential meetings during the Cold War. This high-level meeting — Putin’s first visit to the United States in nearly a decade — happened as the Russian president emphasized that it was a “hard time” for bilateral relations. Held in Alaska, once Russian territory, the summit unfolded against the backdrop of a Europe still at war, a divided West and a shifting transatlantic alliance. While official US statements cast the meeting as a pursuit of peace, the implications of what was discussed — or left unsaid — are profound, especially for Ukraine, the European Union (EU) and global security.
The Alaska Summit took place amid mounting pressure on Russia and Ukraine to end the war, a key priority of the Trump administration’s foreign policy and part of the US president’s personal quest to secure the Nobel Peace Prize. Moreover, with Trump back in office, his administration sought to reposition the United States as a pragmatic power broker rather than a steadfast defender of international norms. During the closed-door meeting, both leaders reportedly discussed a host of strategic issues: Ukraine, NATO, arms control, bilateral relations, potential energy deals and sanctions. The most notable outcome, however, was not a treaty or a ceasefire on the frontline, but a shift in tone: the Trump administration now favors a peace agreement that addresses the root causes of the conflict — a longstanding Russian demand — rather than an immediate ceasefire, which has been the policy preference of European countries.
According to Steve Witkoff, Trump’s envoy who attended the meeting in Anchorage, Russia is edging toward concessions in negotiations to end the war. These include agreeing to robust security guarantees — though not under NATO — originally proposed by Trump. In return, the United States appeared to ease its opposition to Russia’s continued control over Crimea and the occupied regions of Donetsk, Luhansk, Zaporizhzhia and Kherson, which together account for roughly 20% of Ukraine’s territory.
This new position was reinforced just weeks later at a separate but consequential summit in Washington, where Trump hosted Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy. Coming on the heels of the Alaska Summit, the August 18 Washington meeting brought together Trump, Zelenskyy and a group of European leaders, including French President Emmanuel Macron, German Chancellor Friedrich Merz and NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte. This hastily arranged gathering aimed to rally support for Ukraine amid fears that Trump might cut a deal favoring Moscow. Zelenskyy pressed for concrete US commitments, including a $90 billion arms package encompassing aircraft, air defenses and drones, while emphasizing the need for binding security assurances rather than vague pledges.
Trump, in a cordial tone, reiterated Washington’s willingness to “guarantee” Ukraine’s security but floated the idea of skipping a ceasefire in favor of a direct peace agreement, urging Zelenskyy to “make a deal” given Russia’s military might. For Ukraine, it represents a stark reality: US pressure to accept territorial losses in exchange for peace, potentially freezing the conflict lines where Russian forces have made steady gains through their 2025 summer offensive. Between July 15 and August 12, Russian forces captured 241 square miles of Ukrainian territory — a 7% increase over the 226 square miles gained between July 8 and August 5, 2024 taking advantage of Ukraine’s shortages in manpower and advanced weaponry.
Such territorial concessions could erode Kyiv’s morale and undermine Ukraine’s territorial integrity, while reinforcing Russia’s narrative of victory. For European security, the meetings raise serious concerns about NATO’s cohesion. Many European leaders fear that a US-brokered deal excluding their input could embolden further Russian military adventurism — potentially in the Baltic states — and weaken the transatlantic alliance. Trump’s references to “severe consequences” for Russia if no agreement is reached offer little reassurance, as they contrast sharply with Europe’s insistence on robust security guarantees for Ukraine, including potential pathways to NATO membership. As Trump put it, “Zelenskyy is not exactly innocent either. You know, it takes two to tango, and I say it all the time — you’ve got to get them together.’” The statement was made during a regular presidential cabinet meeting at the White House, in reference to a possible meeting between Zelenskyy and Putin.
European participants, acting as a united front, backed Zelenskyy’s call for a ceasefire as a prerequisite to talks, highlighting transatlantic divergences: the United States seeks a swift exit from the conflict to fulfill domestic promises, while Europe prioritizes long-term deterrence against perceived Russian expansionism.
The European response to these meetings was immediate and conflicted. In Paris, Macron called for a quadrilateral peace summit that would include Ukraine, Russia, the EU and the United States. In doing so, Macron attempted to restore Europe’s voice in a process that now seemed dangerously dominated by Washington and Moscow. Merz expressed support for such an initiative, though Berlin stopped short of criticizing Trump directly. The Baltic states, Poland and Nordic countries were more explicit, warning that any deal excluding European input would undercut the continent’s long-term security architecture. Russia, for its part, responded by proposing a bilateral summit with Ukraine to be held in Moscow, pointedly excluding both Washington and Brussels. At the same time, a potential diplomatic meeting at a lower political level could be held in Ankara, Helsinki or Budapest, suggesting Russia’s intent to leverage non-Western mediation as a way of reshaping the diplomatic framework.
This flurry of meetings reveals a fractured West, with no consensus on how to end the war in Ukraine. Looking ahead, prospects for peace by the end of 2025 or early 2026 are dim but not impossible. Russian military advances, with monthly gains accelerating amid Ukraine’s defensive struggles, could force Kyiv’s hand if Western arms deliveries remain insufficient — Europe and the United States have hesitated on supplying advanced systems like long-range missiles, fearing escalation. Yet, a prolonged war risks crippling Russia’s economy, already strained by sanctions and high casualties estimated at 30,000 to 45,000 per month, potentially unsustainable beyond 2026. If Trump leverages this vulnerability with targeted pressure, a frozen conflict or partial deal might emerge by mid-2026. However, without unified transatlantic resolve, the war could drag on, eroding European security and leaving Ukraine vulnerable. Peace, if achieved, will likely be imperfect, balancing concessions with guarantees to prevent future military escalation.
The role of emerging mediators — Türkiye, Hungary and even Finland — may prove decisive in bridging the gaps. Whether they can deliver more than symbolic gestures is yet to be seen. Ultimately, the Alaska and Washington meetings have not yet brought peace. They have, however, redrawn the diplomatic map. What was once a clear-cut transatlantic alliance committed to Ukrainian victory has now splintered into multiple visions of “acceptable outcomes.” The coming months will determine whether these fault lines become fatal fractures — or whether, against the odds, a new diplomatic framework emerges that balances justice with realism, and sovereignty with security.
