It was already clear at 10:00 p.m. that it would be a tough night in Kyiv. The air alert sounded at 9:24 p.m., blaring outside and shrieking out of the state-supported app on my phone. Like many in Ukraine, I checked a couple of privately run Telegram chats to see what was incoming—the chats use open-source intelligence to give real-time updates, sometimes with a text every few seconds, showing exactly what is in the air and where, pinpointed to the neighborhood. The picture didn’t look good: already two dozen little drone icons on my go-to channel’s schematic map. But none were yet in Kyiv, so I breathed easy for now and went back to my otherwise quiet Wednesday night.

That day, the news in the Western media was still all about Donald Trump’s efforts to broker a ceasefire a week earlier. Several media outlets were still analyzing what exactly had happened when seven European leaders, including President Volodymyr Zelensky, traveled to the White House on August 18 to try to undo the damage Trump caused at his chummy meeting with Vladimir Putin in Alaska the week before. Another story revealed European leaders were working to develop security guarantees—perhaps European soldiers at Ukrainian airports and train stations—to be implemented once a peace agreement is signed. Another shocking report detailed ExxonMobil’s secret talks with a state-run Russian energy giant about resuming business as usual when the ink on a deal is dry.

Read more in Washington Monthly. 

The seven European leaders who accompanied President Volodymyr Zelensky to the White House on Monday made little secret of why they had suddenly interrupted their summer vacations to make the trip. They believed they might need to shield the Ukrainian leader from the disparagement and bullying he had to endure on his last Oval Office in February.

In the end, that wasn’t necessary. Host Donald Trump was jovial and eager to get along with his guests. He complimented Zelensky on his suit-like attire and flattered the seven Europeans— NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen, German Chancellor Friedrich Merz, French President Emmanuel Macron, British Prime Minister Keir Starmer, Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, and Finnish President Alexander Stubb—each with a personalized compliment. They flattered back with even more lavish and ingratiating thanks and praise, and everyone seemed to go home happy.

The questions left hanging amid all the smiles and good cheer: what exactly did they discuss—and what issues, if any, were settled?

Read more in Washington Monthly.

The city of Sloviansk, prewar population just over 100,00, sits smack in the middle of the territory Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin will discuss “swapping” when they meet on Friday in Alaska—the first U.S.-Russia summit since Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022. Moscow and Kyiv have been fighting over Sloviansk more or less nonstop for more than 11 years, since Russian proxies first tried to take over the Donetsk province in 2014. With one exception—three months in spring 2014—the city has remained in Ukrainian hands.

Now, as world leaders talk over Ukrainians’ heads about giving up Sloviansk without another shot fired, I sat down with two soldiers who have been defending the city for over a year. Vlad Huma, 38, and Hlib Velitchenko, 32, say a swap of the kind Putin has proposed is unthinkable. But they know the conversation won’t end there, and they are girding for the worst.

Keep reading in Washington Monthly.

The Russian reaction wasn’t long in coming. Just hours after President Donald Trump met with NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte in the Oval Office on Monday to announce new missiles for Ukraine and 100 percent tariffs on Russia if the two countries can’t agree to a ceasefire in 50 days, the Moscow Stock Exchange Index rose sharply. Russian investors, expecting worse from Washington, were apparently relieved by the outcome of the meeting.

Later that day, Senator Konstantin Kosachev, chair of the foreign affairs committee in the Russian parliament’s upper house, dismissed the news from the White House as “much ado about nothing.” “Over 50 days, a whole lot can change on the battlefield,” he wrote menacingly on social media, “and in the moods of those in power in the U.S. and NATO. But our mood won’t be affected.”

The Oval Office announcement signals a dramatic shift in Trump’s thinking about the Russia-Ukraine war. After insisting for months that Ukraine was the problem—responsible for the conflict, and reluctant to make peace—the 47th president finally seems to see that Russian President Vladimir Putin is the one who won’t lay down arms. This is a significant breakthrough, and if Trump follows through on the new strategy, it could change the course of the war. But many potential pitfalls lie ahead—in Europe, Washington, and Moscow.

Read more in Washington Monthly.

The simple farmhouse north of Kharkiv—Ukraine’s second-largest city, just 20 miles from the Russian border—serves as the base of operations for an infantry company of the Ukrainian 13th National Guard Brigade, known as Khartia. One room is filled with bunk beds, and the walls are hung with helmets and body armor. In the yard, sacks of food and crates of ammunition sit under a laundry line dangling fatigues and T-shirts. But this is more than just a soldier’s billet. The main activity here is planning—a new kind of detailed forethought required by drone warfare.

Both Russian and Ukrainian use of drones has changed dramatically since the war began nearly three and a half years ago. Unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) now come in all shapes and sizes. Both sides use widely diversified drone arsenals for scouting and striking enemy forces. Long-range drones terrorize Ukrainian cities and destroy oil depots deep inside Russia. Others with shorter ranges buzz overhead, night and day, on the front line.

These smaller drones, ever-present eyes and weapons in the sky have transformed the battlefield, creating a six-to-12-mile “gray zone” between Russian and Ukrainian lines. It’s a deadly no man’s land where no one dares risk exposure. Even tanks and armored vehicles hesitate to cross the desolate territory for fear of drones. Instead, small groups of attacking Russians dash in on motorbikes, drawing fire to expose Ukrainian positions. And virtually everything the foot soldiers of Ukraine’s infantry once knew about fighting—assault and defense—has changed.

Read more in Washington Monthly.

The young European officials and defense experts gathered for an informal dinner at an international conference in Europe earlier this month were caustic and unequivocal. “NATO is dead,” one member of parliament from a Central European country declared bluntly. “Why are we bothering to keep up the pretense?”

Others at the table nodded in agreement—no discussion needed. Whether or not Donald Trump someday makes good on his threat to pull out of the alliance, he has already rendered it all but toothless by suggesting, again and again, that he might not defend a NATO member under attack. For skeptical Europeans like the young officials at dinner, it’s a terrifying moment, leaving a largely defenseless Europe to face an aggressive, revanchist Russia. “We should stop wasting energy on NATO,” another parliamentarian, from a second country, agreed. “We need to focus on building an alternative.”

This week, there was none of that skepticism at the annual NATO summit in The Hague. Trump cast a shadow over the meeting even before he arrived, once again raising doubts about his willingness to defend Europe and comply with Article 5 of the NATO charter, stipulating that an attack on one is an attack on all. “Depends on your definition,” Trump told reporters on Air Force One. “There are numerous definitions of Article 5.” The only time Article 5 has been invoked in the past was when allies rushed to help prosecute the war in Afghanistan after 9/11.

Read more in Washington Monthly.