Trump’s ambition to become the architect of peace risks reviving an era in which great powers decided the destinies of sovereign nations behind closed doors
US President Donald Trump has made one of his most controversial statements about the war in Ukraine, declaring: “I think it is time for somebody else to negotiate on behalf of Ukraine.” His words were directed against President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, whom Trump accused of failing to reach an agreement with Russia earlier. Yet the statement raises a question far greater than the political future of one Ukrainian leader: who has the right to speak for an independent country fighting against foreign aggression?
The controversy has intensified amid reports that Vladimir Putin proposed a three-way summit with Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping during the forthcoming APEC meeting in China. According to current reporting, the Kremlin appears interested in using such a meeting to discuss the future of the war on terms advantageous to Moscow. Trump has expressed openness to meeting the two leaders, although he has also suggested that the principal subject would be nuclear weapons and denuclearisation. No final agreement on the summit or its agenda has yet been announced.
When asked whether he would discuss ending the war without Zelenskyy, Trump indicated that he would pursue any opportunity that he believed could stop the fighting. This reflects his increasingly visible ambition to present himself as the global dealmaker capable of resolving wars through direct personal negotiations. The desire to end bloodshed is legitimate and urgently necessary. But peace cannot be sustainable if the country whose territory, people and future are being discussed is excluded from deciding its own fate.
A Peace Summit—or a Council of Great Powers?
The prospect of Trump, Putin and Xi discussing Ukraine without an authorised Ukrainian representative evokes the diplomacy of the great-power conferences of the Second World War. At Tehran in 1943, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Winston Churchill and Joseph Stalin coordinated military strategy against Nazi Germany and began discussing the post-war order. At Yalta in February 1945, the same three powers made decisions that profoundly influenced the political future of Europe.
The historical comparison is powerful, but it must be used accurately. Tehran and Yalta took place in the exceptional circumstances of a world war, before the United Nations formally came into existence. They were not, in themselves, violations of UN rules that did not yet exist. Nevertheless, Yalta became an enduring symbol of sphere-of-influence diplomacy—a political order in which powerful states negotiated the destinies of smaller nations with limited participation from the societies most affected.
A modern attempt to determine Ukraine’s borders, security arrangements or political future without Ukraine would risk creating what might be called a new Yalta mentality. It would suggest that military and economic power gives several leaders the moral authority to redistribute another nation’s land, determine its alliances or replace its chosen representatives. That approach belongs to an imperial age—not to an international system supposedly founded upon sovereign equality.
Negotiations Without Ukraine Cannot Bind Ukraine
International law does not prevent Trump, Putin and Xi from meeting or discussing the war. Diplomatic dialogue, including communication with an aggressor state, is not illegal. The legal and political problem would arise if these leaders attempted to impose a settlement upon Ukraine, recognise territorial changes created through force or make commitments concerning Ukrainian sovereignty without Kyiv’s consent.
Article 2 of the UN Charter establishes the sovereign equality of states and prohibits the threat or use of force against their territorial integrity or political independence. Ukraine therefore possesses the same legal sovereignty as the United States, Russia or China, regardless of differences in their military strength, economic influence or permanent membership of the UN Security Council.
The law of treaties also reflects the principle pacta tertiis nec nocent nec prosunt: an agreement does not create obligations for a third state without that state’s consent. Consequently, any political bargain concluded among Washington, Moscow and Beijing might produce diplomatic pressure, but it could not, by itself, lawfully transfer Ukrainian territory, determine Ukraine’s constitutional order or bind the Ukrainian state to concessions it had not accepted.
The UN General Assembly has repeatedly reaffirmed Ukraine’s sovereignty, independence, unity and territorial integrity within its internationally recognised borders. It has also called for a comprehensive, just and lasting peace consistent with the UN Charter. Peace, in this legal understanding, cannot simply mean the temporary absence of fighting. It must address aggression rather than reward it and must respect the rights of the state that has been attacked.
Who Has the Right to Represent Ukraine?
Trump may criticise Zelenskyy, disagree with his negotiating strategy or believe that another Ukrainian representative could achieve a better result. But the authority to choose Ukraine’s government and negotiators belongs to the Ukrainian people and Ukraine’s constitutional institutions—not to the president of another country.
To say that “somebody else” should negotiate for Ukraine is therefore not merely a personal criticism. It risks implying that a foreign power may decide when the legitimate representative of a sovereign nation is no longer acceptable. Such reasoning would establish a dangerous precedent: powerful governments could recognise or reject national representatives according to whether they accepted externally designed settlements.
Ukraine may appoint different negotiators, create a broader diplomatic delegation or change its political leadership through its own constitutional processes. What cannot be legitimate is the replacement of Ukrainian agency by decisions made in Washington, Moscow or Beijing.
The Difference Between Ending a War and Building Peace
Trump clearly wants to be remembered as a president who stopped wars. His preference for personal diplomacy and dramatic summits allows him to present international conflict as a transaction that can be closed by a sufficiently determined negotiator. But Ukraine is not a commercial dispute, and sovereignty is not a negotiable asset belonging to an outside mediator.
A rapid agreement could silence weapons temporarily while leaving the causes of the war unresolved. If Russia retains the benefits of aggression without credible security guarantees for Ukraine, the resulting settlement may become an intermission rather than a peace. It could also send a global message that borders can be changed by force if an aggressor possesses sufficient military power, nuclear weapons and geopolitical influence.
The world does not need another conference at which great powers divide political space into zones of control. It needs diplomacy based on law, accountability and the participation of the people whose lives will be determined by its outcome.
Trump, Putin and Xi may discuss Ukraine. They may propose ideas, open channels of communication and search for ways to stop the killing. But they cannot legitimately decide Ukraine’s future in Ukraine’s absence.
There can be no lawful peace for Ukraine without Ukraine—and no durable world order if sovereignty becomes a privilege reserved only for the powerful.
BOHDAN HAWRYLYSHYN AT 100: A LIFE DEVOTED TO UKRAINE AND THE FUTURE
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