Trump: Zelensky is a 4% dictator

For three years, Ukraine has endured the unthinkable: relentless air and land assaults, a brutal war of attrition, missile barrages, drone strikes, glide bombs, and summary executions. Now, a new challenge has emerged—not from the battlefield, but from the West. Donald Trump’s overtures toward Russia have caught Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelensky, off guard, triggering a rare public display of anger. On February 18, Zelensky canceled a long-planned visit to Saudi Arabia, citing his exclusion from talks held there. “We were not invited... It was a surprise for us, I think for many others as well,” he remarked. A day later, Trump escalated tensions by labeling Zelensky a “dictator.”

Trump’s outreach to Vladimir Putin and apparent willingness to rehabilitate the Kremlin have sent shockwaves through Kyiv’s political class, though not without a degree of resignation. “Our mental state was not good the day we heard the news,” admitted a senior MP from Zelensky’s party. “But we were expecting it.” Ukrainian officials have encountered increasing resistance in Washington, with doors shutting and Russian narratives gaining traction. An opposition MP described a growing sense of dread, as lawmakers brace for the possibility of a humiliating ceasefire agreement.

Even if Ukraine survives the war, the country faces an existential struggle. The human toll is staggering: hundreds of thousands dead or wounded, millions displaced. Of the 4.3 million Ukrainians who sought refuge in Europe, perhaps a third are children—many of whom may never return. A peace deal without long-term security guarantees could accelerate this demographic crisis, pushing more parents to send their children abroad. “We need peace,” a senior Ukrainian official stressed. “The question is—can we achieve peace without destroying ourselves in the process?”

Families with teenage sons face particularly wrenching decisions. Should they send their boys abroad while the law still permits it, or risk their future at home? Serhiy Vasilyuk, a former soldier, is grappling with this dilemma. Initially, he and his wife agreed their 17-year-old son, Andriy, should leave. But Andriy refused, insisting he saw no future outside Ukraine and would enlist as soon as legally possible. His mother remains opposed, while Serhiy, recalling the young recruits he once led, reluctantly gives his blessing. “If there aren’t kids like him, there won’t be anyone left,” he says.

Despite the turmoil, no formal deal has yet materialized. However, Ukraine’s worst fears seem to be unfolding. Many in Kyiv fear Trump’s rhetoric mirrors a classic Russian trap: a ceasefire without security guarantees, followed by premature elections that could fracture Ukrainian unity. “Trump appears intent on sidelining Zelensky, whom he has never liked and considers difficult,” says a former diplomat. “This isn’t about elections—it’s about removing Zelensky.”

Trump’s rush for a deal is unlikely to yield quick peace but rather an untenable proposition for Ukraine. Zelensky will have to stall the process, seeking leverage in the negotiations. Unlike Trump, he has not publicly outlined his red lines. Speaking to The Economist last week, he described willingness to meet with “the killer” (Putin) as compromise enough. However, he has already ruled out accepting a ceasefire without security guarantees or any deal made behind his back. A senior Ukrainian official suggests Ukraine would never formally recognize lost territories but acknowledges NATO membership remains a distant goal. The minimum acceptable terms, he says, include continued military cooperation with the West, no significant demilitarization, an ongoing supply of weapons and financial aid, and the presence of a foreign peacekeeping force. “The size of the force matters less than the fact that it exists,” he notes. “Once they’re here, it will be hard for them to leave.”

In theory, Ukraine could reject a Trump-brokered deal. In practice, its position weakens over time. The war is brutal on both sides but disproportionately so for Ukraine, which is smaller and less resource-rich. Ukrainian troops have proven highly effective in unit-level combat, but there are serious operational challenges and a lack of strategic planning. Some front-line brigades are operating at less than one-third strength. Meanwhile, Trump has several levers to pressure Ukraine: he could cut military aid, unilaterally lift sanctions on Russia, or withdraw vital support systems such as real-time targeting and Starlink, which serves as Ukraine’s battlefield communication backbone. Though alternatives exist, losing these assets would be a severe blow. As one senior U.S. official bluntly put it, “If Zelensky can mobilize 18- and 20-year-olds, it might be worth fighting. If he can’t, he should take the best deal available.”

With Europe sidelined in Trump’s negotiations, much now depends on Zelensky’s resolve. He has compelling reasons to resist unfavorable terms—his political future and legacy depend on it. However, standing up to a U.S. president who thrives on confrontation will be both perilous and psychologically grueling. Insiders worry that Zelensky is becoming increasingly insular at a time when he needs broad support. “No one is willing to tell him no,” one source laments, “and he is making mistakes.” Many Ukrainians share this frustration. Internal polling revealed to The Economist shows Zelensky remains the country’s most popular current politician, but he would lose a future election by a staggering 30% to 65% margin against Valery Zaluzhny, his former top general—who has yet to enter politics. Public trust in Zelensky has dropped to 52%, the lowest of the war, though still significantly higher than the 4% claimed by Trump on February 18.

If the situation seems precarious, it is not yet the worst-case scenario. The true nightmare would be Trump implementing the Kremlin’s blueprint wholesale: a ceasefire without security guarantees, elections leading to political paralysis, a weakened presidency, a fragmented parliament, demobilization, mass emigration, and internal disintegration. The unity Ukrainians displayed in the early days of the war would become a distant memory. “This is not an impossible scenario,” an official warns. “Remember, there are millions of weapons in the country. You can even buy a captured Russian tank on the front lines for 100,000 hryvnia ($2,400).”

There is little evidence that Putin has abandoned his ambition to crush Ukraine. Watching his 17-year-old son, Serhiy Vasilyuk predicts Ukraine will remain at war “for as long as that bastard [Putin] draws breath.” However, he believes Ukraine’s most critical moment passed in the war’s opening days when “his generation stopped Russian tanks at Kyiv’s gates.” Now, the burden shifts to the next generation. On June 3, Andriy turns 18. That day, he plans to enroll in an economics degree—and enlist in an elite Ukrainian assault unit, despite his mother’s protests. “Even if the war ends, even if a ceasefire is reached, we will need the strongest army to ensure it never starts again,” he says.