When Donald Trump once again called Vladimir Putin a "genius" and "very savvy" for invading Ukraine, it didn’t come off as a slip of the tongue—it was in line with a long-standing pattern. He has frequently emphasized his "very, very good relationship" with the Russian president, often criticized Ukrainian authorities, and in the past even favored Putin’s assertions over the findings of U.S. intelligence. In the Kremlin, this was interpreted as a green light: Moscow had a free hand, while Washington looked more like a bystander than a referee.
But four months into his return to the White House, Trump’s praise for Putin has begun to lose its effect. The war has dragged on, diplomatic efforts are stalling, and even Trump has started to show visible frustration. "We’re going to find out if he’s stringing us along—and if he is, we’ll respond differently," he said recently in the Oval Office.
The disappointment deepened after yet another round of negotiations, which, according to sources, yielded no results. Soon after came one of the most intense Russian airstrikes on Ukraine’s civilian infrastructure. Trump’s tone shifted: he called Putin "completely INSANE!" and accused Russia of playing with fire. The Kremlin brushed it off, attributing the outburst to "emotions."
The problem is that an "emotional reaction" is all the White House has offered so far. While Trump hints at possible new sanctions, no concrete steps have been taken. Even his closest allies—like Republican Senator Lindsey Graham—have publicly stated that "Putin is playing us all."
Doubts about Moscow’s sincerity are no longer just a matter of diplomatic speculation—they’re close to a consensus in Congress. Democratic Senator Jeanne Shaheen said, "It’s time for the president to wake up and realize that Putin isn’t seeking peace—he’s just stalling for time." And while the Trump administration still talks about wanting an agreement, it increasingly resembles self-deception.
What the U.S. offers instead of pressure is seduction. The primary channel of communication with the Kremlin is not the State Department, but businessman and Trump ally Steve Witkoff, dispatched to Moscow as a special envoy. His stated mission: "to build friendship." Yes, friendship—despite the destroyed cities, mass killings, and millions of refugees.
Perhaps the most alarming sign of the White House’s ambivalence is Trump’s decision to withdraw support for investigations into Russian war crimes. The Justice Department ended U.S. involvement in evidence collection—something experts say has only strengthened Putin’s sense of impunity.
As Richard Fontaine, head of the Center for a New American Security, puts it: "Trump may finally be starting to realize what was obvious from the start: the problem is Russia, not Ukraine." According to him, it is Moscow that launched the war—and remains the chief obstacle to ending it.
Yet while Trump hesitates, absorbed in his "relationship" and relying on personal diplomacy, the war drags on. What’s at stake is not only Ukraine’s future but America’s standing as a global arbiter. Admitting that his "charm" offensive with Putin has failed would be painful—but far more dangerous is pretending it still might work.