The Perils of Backroom Deals

Trump, Putin, and the Shadow of Munich

As world leaders gather in Munich for the annual Security Conference, discussions are dominated by Ukraine’s survival and the broader resilience of the transatlantic alliance. The stage is set for powerful speeches, diplomatic maneuvering, and firm commitments to collective security. Yet, outside the official proceedings, a far more troubling narrative is unfolding—one that threatens to undermine everything being said within the conference halls. Reports have emerged that Donald Trump has been privately discussing Ukraine’s fate with Vladimir Putin. Not in Munich, not through transparent diplomacy, and, most disturbingly, not with Ukraine at the table.

The echoes of history are deafening. In 1938, Britain and France sat down with Hitler in this very city, negotiating away Czechoslovakia’s Sudetenland under the illusion that conceding to an aggressor would bring peace. It did not. Within months, Hitler swallowed the rest of Czechoslovakia, and by the following year, Europe was at war. The lesson should have been learned long ago: when great powers negotiate over the heads of smaller nations, promising security in exchange for submission, they do not prevent conflict. They invite it. As Winston Churchill put it so bluntly: “You were given the choice between war and dishonour. You chose dishonour, and you will have war.”

Trump’s reported conversations with Putin are more than just another example of his unorthodox diplomacy. They send a dangerous message—not only to Russia but to America’s allies and to Ukraine itself. To Moscow, such private discussions suggest that its military aggression is negotiable, that brute force can alter borders, and that patience will eventually be rewarded with concessions. To U.S. allies, particularly in Europe, it confirms their worst fears: that America’s security commitments are not based on institutions or treaties but on the whims of a single political leader. And to Ukraine, a nation that has fought and bled for its survival, it signals that its fate may be decided elsewhere, beyond its control, in the private dealings of those who see geopolitics as a transaction rather than a struggle for sovereignty and principles.

At this very moment, European leaders are debating their response in Munich. Officially, their rhetoric is resolute—commitments to Ukraine’s defense are reaffirmed, and the unity of NATO is emphasized. But behind the scenes, uncertainty looms. The European Union, despite its economic strength, remains hesitant to take the lead in security matters. NATO, though militarily powerful, lacks the political cohesion to respond to America’s shifting posture. This strategic vacuum is precisely what Russia has always sought to exploit. If Western capitals remain passive while Washington wavers, Moscow will see an opening.

What happens next will define the credibility of the Western alliance. Ukraine cannot be treated as a bargaining chip in a game of geopolitical maneuvering. Its sovereignty is not for sale, nor can any lasting peace be achieved through opaque negotiations between strongmen. Security in Europe cannot be dictated in secret by those willing to trade principles for expediency. The international order that has preserved relative stability since World War II rests on the foundations of law, collective defense, and institutional trust—not on informal, backroom understandings.

Munich 2025 is a moment of reckoning. The lesson of 1938 should be clear to all who walk the halls of this conference: peace is not secured through appeasement, but through the unwavering defense of principles. If Western leaders fail to confront the growing shadow of backroom diplomacy, they may soon find themselves repeating the mistakes of the past—only to wake up in a far more dangerous world.