Trump-Putin Alaska Summit: History Won’t Be Kind

PUBLISHED ON August 16, 2025, 4:25 PM EDT – Key Points and Summary: The Trump-Putin summit in Alaska was a masterclass in political theater that accomplished nothing of substance, argues this analysis.

Key Point #2 – The meeting, which excluded Ukraine and its European allies, was a propaganda victory for Vladimir Putin, who gained the optics of restored global legitimacy.

Key Point #3 – For President Trump, it was an opportunity for self-serving grandstanding about making “great progress” where none existed.

The Alaska Summit: A Predictable Outcome 

“Whenever an official announces that negotiations have been helpful, one may be certain that nothing of substance was accomplished.” This adage from the Canadian economist and public intellectual John Kenneth Galbraith could be the one-liner needed to sum up the outcome of the recently completed Trump–Putin summit in Anchorage.

After months of buildup and choreography, spats and speculation, the in-person meeting neither softened the animosity between Washington and Moscow nor in any way advanced the cause of peace in Ukraine. Both Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump were happy to call the discussions “productive” and “constructive,” but the only way in which Anchorage was either of these was in the Galbraithian sense of “helpful”—that is, as a pretext for self-interested grandstanding that accomplished virtually nothing of geopolitical value.

In grandstanding terms, President Putin gained the optics of restored global legitimacy and great power status, while President Trump was afforded the opportunity to spout politically self-serving declaratiions of “great progress.”

In geopolitical terms, however, while sold as a “turning point” in Russian-American relations—with similarly transformative consequences for the Russia-Ukraine war—the summit accomplished nothing.

For Trump…

The expectations that Trump himself had raised before the meeting were, perhaps predictably, wildly overblown. Trump had promised to use the summit to extract a ceasefire “today.” He had inflated the significance of his own role, casting himself as the indispensable man who could bend the course of the war – and thus world history – to his will. Alaska itself was freighted with symbolism: the northernmost state, with Russia visible across the Bering Strait, served as a message of both proximity and intent.

Optimistic commentators speculated about a range of possible positive outcomes for Anchorage, from a “roadmap” for ceasefire to “security guarantees” for Kyiv to the faintest stirrings of a reset in U.S.-Russia relations.

Among the more pessimistic, it was openly feared that Washington was prepared to trade away Ukrainian sovereignty on the altar of expediency.

Either way, expectations that the summit would mark a turning point were nearly ubiquitous.

For Putin…

The reality, of course, turned out to be anticlimactic—at least in terms of the prevailing geopolitical expectations.

Putin did not attend the summit in order to negotiate the surrender of occupied territory, a temporary ceasefire, or even to engage in a serious negotiating process. Instead, he attended in order to enjoy what he anticipated would be both the literal and metaphorical red-carpet treatment he would be afforded by President Trump.

This, Putin fully grasped before boarding his flight to Anchorage, would be a propaganda gift for Russia – a gift that would theatrically transform his country in the eyes of many from an isolated and menacing pariah state into a respected and indispensable global power.

Trump, in contrast, offered nothing but pieties, trotting out the same shopworn slogans about “progress,” “making headway,” and a willingness to “do a deal” that he had repeated endlessly in the run-up to the summit, but manifestly failed to put into practice during the summit. For the American president, this truly was an anticlimactic moment – one in which, as Galbraith put it, “nothing of substance was accomplished.”

For Ukraine…

Volodymyr Zelensky was predictably incensed by the entire fiasco. He had argued in advance that no summit concerning Ukraine’s future could be legitimate unless Ukraine were at the table.

The summit was thus, from Kyiv’s perspective, never part of a process intended to secure a permanent peace – or even a temporary ceasefire – on mutually acceptable terms.

Instead, it was viewed as a finely choreographed pageant that would, in the end, only strengthen the aggressor.

Zelensky’s reaction to the entire summit process was thus barbed and direct: Ukraine’s sovereignty, he maintained, would never be a bargaining chip at a table where Ukraine did not have a seat

. A process that excluded Kyiv, he maintained, could never produce a just peace. Indeed, such a process, on Zelensky’s view, could only advance Moscow’s agenda and is a threat to the very principles at stake in the war.

For Europe…

European leaders shared this analysis. From Berlin to Warsaw to Brussels, officials in European capitals made clear that Russia cannot be allowed a veto over Ukraine’s future, whether when it comes to NATO membership or security guarantees. They paid ritual obeisance to the principle of dialogue but also made clear that the summit had strengthened Putin’s position without compelling him to change course.

European capitals took from Anchorage the blunt lesson that their security cannot be anchored in Trump’s grandstanding but only in Europe’s own power and resolve. At the same time, European capitals stopped short of ruling out further diplomacy, provided that Ukraine is at the table.

Was This Summit a Failure? No, But…

It would be tempting to call Anchorage a complete failure. It is important to resist this impulse, even at the risk of soft-pedaling the negative. At best, the meeting may have de-escalated the temperature in U.S.–Russia relations a degree or two and may, conceivably, have opened the door to a more inclusive process at some point in the future.

A summit at which Trump, Putin, and Zelensky met would, in theory, be able to take a step closer to implementation, even if it is only to secure a temporary pause in the fighting.

No one should imagine that such a meeting would reconcile the two opposed visions of Ukraine’s future that reside in Moscow and Kyiv. But it might at least put the bloodshed on hold for a while. Trump hinted at this possibility in his closing remarks, even suggesting that Anchorage could create the basis for a trilateral summit with a narrowly defined focus on a ceasefire.

Closer to Ending the Ukraine war?

Even that quite modest goal, however, will probably turn out to be out of reach. In the post-summit press conference, Trump spoke of “progress” toward ending the war. But such assertions were closer to political theater than an honest assessment of the talks. Neither Moscow nor Kyiv is prepared to accept a ceasefire that does not advance their core demands.

Putin has made it clear that he will not endorse any deal—temporary or permanent—that returns Ukrainian sovereignty over territories claimed by Russia. Zelensky has been equally clear that no ceasefire that leaves Russian forces in occupation is acceptable to Kyiv.

These were the positions going into Anchorage, and they did not change during the talks.

These are entrenched positions in Moscow and Kyiv that could not have been overcome by Trump and Zelensky in Anchorage even if they had wanted to. Trump, if he were honest with himself, would have recognized as much.

The Ukraine War: What Happens Now? 

The larger lesson for the United States and its allies is harsh. Diplomacy as theater is no substitute for diplomacy as strategy. To host Putin at this moment without exacting any meaningful concessions was to project weakness rather than strength.

For European capitals watching closely, Anchorage confirmed their doubts about Trump: when it comes to protecting European security, he lacks both the will and the ability. For Zelensky, Anchorage reinforced the principle that Ukraine must have the right to speak for itself and that any negotiation process that does not include Kyiv is illegitimate from the outset. The notion that Anchorage could have been described as “constructive” was, from the standpoint of Kyiv, sheer folly.

Galbraith’s aphorism has staying power because it captures such episodes so clearly and powerfully. Anchorage was “constructive,” which in practice meant it was helpful in Putin’s propaganda and, perhaps, for Trump’s self-portrayal as a leader who is at least willing to try. However, what is helpful in the protagonists is not the same as what is useful in international politics. It is not the same as an actual ceasefire, substantive negotiation, or recalibration of U.S.–Russia relations.

At best, Anchorage has opened a faint possibility of a future trilateral meeting. More realistically, it will be remembered as the moment when extravagant promises gave way to posturing when the opportunity to take even the smallest step toward peace was squandered.

When Galbraith’s maxim was once again proved incontestably true: when leaders say their talks were “useful,” the world can be certain that nothing of consequence was achieved.

About the Author: Dr. Andrew Latham

Andrew Latham is a non-resident fellow at Defense Priorities and a professor of international relations and political theory at Macalester College in Saint Paul, MN. You can follow him on X: @aakatham. He writes a daily column for National Security Journal.

Military Matters

The F-22 Raptor Just Keeps Getting Better 

The YF-23 Black Widow II Stealth Fighter: The New F/A-XX

The F-117 Nighthawk: We Almost Touched It