The old Leninist saying that there are “decades where nothing happens, and weeks where decades happen” has been rolled out a lot since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022. But the present cascade of events really is extraordinary in its epoch-shaping potential.
Expect surprises. The weeks in front of us are likely to see an acceleration of this giddy pace, which began at the Munich Security Conference with a bracing pulpit message to Europe and Ukraine from the new US administration that the old rules of US engagement and support were on the way out.
It’s telling how long ago it feels since US Vice President JD Vance roundly upbraided Europe for being a slouch at paying for its defence (and for generally being too European to boot). The meetings of Russian and US delegations in Saudi Arabia have signalled that the pace Donald Trump wants to set is breakneck.
For Keir Starmer, heading to Washington to meet an assertive and maverick president in dynamic mode, that means walking a line between being firm, alongside the most serious military players in Europe (France, Germany and the combined resolve of the Nordic states) in their support for an independent Ukraine, while also showing openness to a deal to end the war at a speed which is more useful to those who started it than Ukrainians who have suffered the consequences.
One Cabinet member who has been helping Starmer prep for his big moment emphasises how “dead and buried” the old playbook of such encounters now is: diplomatic channels in the US are often the last to be informed about what Trump will propose or demand next.
Starmer has prepared in detail to deal with the fact that conversations can, as one Cabinet minister who has helped work through likely stances and outcomes puts it, “be more like following seven bluebottles buzzing around in a jar and trying to remember which one you want to keep watching”, than a stately progression through arguments and compromises.
Like it or not, all of those impacted by the Ukraine crisis in this period are part of a multi-sided “art of the deal”. So the question for Starmer, thrust from the role of bland centrist politician into a potential role in the history books on the remaking of Europe, is how best to appeal to the President’s transactional view of relations with Vladimir Putin, while stepping up for Ukraine and defining the best posture for Britain in a shifting landscape of security and geopolitical implications.
To that extent, the offer of British peacekeepers as some form of stabilisation force is an early bargaining chip for the UK, in return for any serious role in negotiations. Helping to police any deal, while a worrying stretch for the under-recruited Armed Forces, is one asset that Starmer can offer Trump.
It achieves two practical things. First, it slows down the precipitous nature of the final round of the agreements, because it would introduce something that is often lacking in the Trump administration’s talk so far – namely, what happens the day, week or months after a deal and who is the guarantor on what terms. And second, it moves the conversation towards a disincentive for Putin to simply grab the sudden hand of US friendship and keep building his war machine for further incursions in the Baltics or Poland.
For Starmer, then, the aim is to avoid rising to the bait of arguing the toss about the tone and punitive style of America’s new decision makers; but also to be the steady guy they can talk to, coaxing a difficult partner to identify with a “peace through strength” position towards Russia.
Admittedly, this has not looked like an easy gambit in the last 48 hours, given that the President has sidelined many appointees like General Keith Kellogg, his own military chief, for sounding too hawkish on Russia.
It is this area where Starmer most risks being slapped down or humiliated. But it is also the key to unlocking a longer conversation that is not simply the “shock and awe” of the White House issuing demands and rebukes.
There is however another part of the deal with the UK: the soft diplomacy side. The dangling of a Balmoral state visit is a concerted attempt to keep relations and conversations on the positive side. “There won’t be any fighting in the war room,” says one UK diplomat, citing the great paradox of the stand-off in the Dr Strangelove dark comedy about deterrence and risks.
Talking to Ukrainian officials this week, what is clear is that they, too, are in “deal mode” – over things which would once have been taken for granted when the US was the defence and financial backstop for Kyiv’s resistance to being overrun by Russia. That now comes with a price tag issued in Washington.
So an agreement is likely to be reached on handing the US preferential exploration and extraction rights for critical minerals, oil and gas. The opening US bid was that this should be in repayment for defence already delivered. Now the role of European allies will be to pivot this as far as possible into an incentive for America to be part of any security package to deter Russia.
In truth, no one entirely knows how much mineral wealth is of commercial value in Ukraine and restarting its war-stricken mining industry may end up being less palatable to American investors than the promise of riches.
So there is a lot of bluster in this particular trade and alongside it is a hard truth. The system in which the US took the responsibility and the brickbats for supporting the European continent has given way to something far more perilous and without a clear endpoint. The era of America as “global policeman” has given way at dizzying speed to the art of the trade.
The costs will be high. The risks of failing to make the best of it far higher.
Anne McElvoy is executive editor at Politico and host of the Power Play interview podcast
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