The Dark Side of the Fence
Time of Change №666
Darkness suddenly engulfed us: a familiar, almost comfortable feeling.
Even somewhat tiresome—as if we’ve been living in September 1939 for 11 years, stuck in its first week. Everyone understands that we are at the beginning of a great world war, yet it never truly begins. We are gradually approaching the Warsaw Ghetto, the occupation of France, and the bombing of London, but at a painfully slow pace, in tiny steps. Time now freezes, now makes a small leap forward.
This week, time made another such leap. On Tuesday, Trump, in an interview, effectively blamed Zelensky for the war, stating that he “should not have started it” and claiming his approval rating was at 4% (when, in reality, it’s around 50% in all recent polls). In Thursday’s post on his social media he called the Ukrainian president a dictator, and on Friday, in yet another interview, he declared that he was “tired of hearing” that it’s Putin who’s responsible for the destruction of Ukrainian cities.
On Thursday, it also emerged that G7 countries could not agree on a final statement regarding Ukraine because the U.S. delegation opposed calling Russia an aggressor.
It was clear to everyone from the start that Trump would try to strike a deal with Putin. Most suspected that this deal would not be favorable for Ukraine. His praise for dictators from is nothing new too. But even many of Trump's supporters did not expect that he would start repeating Kremlin propaganda to the letter ― almost all of it, except perhaps the accusations of Ukrainians being Nazis.
It demonstrates Trump's true colors. As Ben Shapiro shrewdly noted, perhaps Trump needed to praise Putin to bring him to the negotiating table, but there was absolutely no need to insult Zelensky.
The first to react to the news were two Britons who have supported both Trump and Ukraine for years: historian Niall Ferguson and former Prime Minister Boris Johnson.
They processed their trauma in different ways.
Johnson called on Europe to give Trump more money by unfreezing the $300 billion in Russian assets that had previously been proposed for Ukraine.
Ferguson promised to keep trying to convince Trump that Ukraine still needed support.
Both approaches are obviously futile.
If you offer Trump money, his appetite only grows. This is already happening. Previously, Trump claimed that Ukraine owed the U.S. $100 or $200 billion. Now he wants $500 billion. Zelensky offered the U.S. a stake in developing Ukraine’s resources—Trump immediately demanded half of all revenue from all Ukrainian resources in perpetuity. According to the conservative British newspaper The Telegraph, this exceeds the reparations imposed on Germany after World War I.
Trying to remind Trump of anything is also pointless. Ferguson has been trying to explain the truth about Russia and Ukraine to Trump’s allies for three years already, with zero results, and nothing suggests that in the fourth year, they will suddenly see the light. On the contrary, these explanations just irritate them, as seen in Trump’s interview (“I’m tired of hearing this”) and in J.D. Vance’s rude response to Ferguson.
Another former British prime minister and once-fierce defender of Ukraine, Liz Truss, chose a different way of coping. Speaking on Thursday at the opening of CPAC, the largest conservative conference in Washington, she simply did not mention Ukraine at all.
There’s yet another way to cope with trauma: sitting on the fence. Over the past few days, I’ve been seeing more and more of it in my feed.
Smart, highly respected people write that Trump's words about Putin and Zelensky are only words, that we should wait six months to a year for real actions, and only then draw conclusions.
There are two immediate problems with this argument.
First, words can be just as important as actions. With his words, Trump has already caused enormous, possibly irreparable harm.
Putin's greatest dream has always been to divide NATO, and Trump is doing an excellent job of making that dream come true. After the Cold War, NATO seemed increasingly pointless each year, but the aggression against Ukraine breathed new life into it. It seemed that Putin’s dream was dead. But now, suddenly, it has come true. A heavy wedge has been driven into Western unity. Any European country now understands that it cannot rely on Article 5 in the event of a Russian attack, no matter how much it spends on defense—even if it’s 5%, like Poland, which spends 1.5 times more of its GDP on defense than the U.S. Just a week ago, Polish authorities tried to secure a U.S. promise of a permanent military presence in the country but failed. In fact, they were even hinted that the number of American troops in Poland might decrease.
It’s not that the U.S. definitely won’t come to NATO allies’ aid in case of an attack—that possibility still exists. But it would depend on Trump’s whim: if he wants to help, he will; if he doesn’t, he won’t. NATO still exists on paper, but in reality, it has already collapsed.
Maybe all of this is just a tactical move to force Europe to take responsibility. But even if calling Good Evil and Evil Good seems like a good tactic to someone, it’s a terrible strategy. It demotivates Good and makes Evil more confident. It allows another, still smaller, Evil to grow and robs people of faith in justice. And perhaps worst of all, it reveals that those who govern the Empire of Good—the “Shining City on a Hill,” as Reagan loved to call America—have no moral values, just current interests. And if the Empire of Good and the Empires of Evil have no fundamental differences, why bother?
Some people dislike moral values and consider them unnecessary, even harmful—they supposedly interfere with navigating the real world. But in the real world, landmarks are sometimes invisible: trees obscure the forest, open seas show no land, and in thick fog, you see nothing at all. In these situations, you need a compass. Moral values are exactly that compass.
A person without moral values cannot distinguish Good from Evil.
When that person is the President of the United States, no ally can sleep peacefully—not South Korea, not Taiwan, not even Israel. If Trump sees an advantage in abandoning Israel, he will do so. The phrase “the only democracy in the Middle East” means nothing to him because the word “democracy” itself means nothing to him.
The second problem is that we simply don’t have these extra months. If we sit and wait to see whether Trump hands Ukraine over to Putin, we might end up with the worst-case scenario. And then it will be too late to save Ukraine, Europe, and possibly even ourselves.
I also sat on this fence
For almost a year—since the beginning of the U.S. election campaign and up until the day before yesterday—I, too, sat on the fence. I wrote many times that Ukraine is the most important issue today because abandoning Ukraine is a direct path to a new world war. But I didn’t know what Trump would do regarding Ukraine.
On the one hand, his praise for Putin and his choice of J.D. Vance ― who routinely to smears Zelensky ― as his running mate were not promising signs. On the other hand, Trump was the only U.S. president in the last 33 years under whom Russia did not start a single new war. He imposed sanctions on Nord Stream and began supplying weapons to Ukraine. Under his orders, American soldiers crushed the Wagner Group in Syria. In short, there were reasons for optimism.
And so, I sat on the fence, picking petals off a daisy: “He loves me—he loves me not” Along with me, tens of millions of others sat on that same fence, plucking petals. Now the situation has become clear.
If, after everything Trump has said this week, you’re still saying that nothing is certain, you look like the character of this meme.
This doesn’t mean that Trump will definitely abandon Ukraine. But if he doesn’t, it won’t be because he chooses to side with Good—it will be because two Evils couldn’t reach an agreement.
We cannot sit idly by, waiting to see if one Evil will make a deal with another. It’s time to climb down from the fence and take action.
What can we do?
Not much. But something.
First, we can make a moral choice and take a clear unequivocal position.
Previously, like Niall Ferguson, I tried to praise Trump for the good and criticize him for the bad. That ends now. Even if Trump were to cut the government in half and abolish income tax, I would not praise him for it.
Trump, as I have said twenty times, is not Hitler. But in this case, the comparison is relevant: it would have been foolish in 1939 to praise Hitler for building excellent highways. Trump is not Hitler, but he has publicly taken the side of Evil. And even if he hasn’t yet materially aided that Evil, this alone makes any of his achievements irrelevant.
Perhaps Trump will make America strong again, but I do not want an America that has sided with Evil to become stronger.
Second, we can support politicians who, even if they are not good themselves, still stand on the side of good.
This year, parliamentary elections are taking place in Australia, Argentina, Germany, Canada, Moldova, Norway, and the Czech Republic. Presidential elections will be held in Greece, Ireland, Poland, and Romania. The elections in Germany are this Sunday.
If you live in one of these countries and have the right to vote, choose the party from your political spectrum that most strongly supports Ukraine, and vote for them—even if you are sick and tired of them.
I live in the Czech Republic, and my disappointment with the current right-wing ruling coalition is hard to put into words. They have broken all their promises.
They pledged not to raise taxes but instead raised them all—VAT, income tax, property tax, business tax. They promised to cut subsidies and welfare but expanded them to an absurd level. They vowed to reduce bureaucracy but have only increased it. Just a week ago, I was certain that I wouldn’t vote for them.
But now, holding my nose, I will—unless a new right-liberal party with a real chance of entering parliament emerges before the election. Because, unlike the opposition, the ruling parties unequivocally support Ukraine, and that is the single most important thing at the moment.
The Czech Republic may not mean much, but the balance of power is shifting, and now everything could depend on even the smallest things.
I know the situation in Germany is the same—every German acquaintance I have tells me there’s nowhere to turn in the current political spectrum. But still, I urge you to choose this Sunday the party that supports Ukraine the most and vote for them. Germany’s position now determines a great deal—possibly everything.
If you live in the U.S., where elections are still far off, you can also make a big impact. American policy on Ukraine doesn’t depend solely on Trump; Congress plays a crucial role as well. Republican politicians today are intimidated—Musk has promised to make reelection difficult for anyone who doesn’t show unwavering loyalty to Trump, and with his money, he can actually do it. But the Democrats stand with Ukraine, and the Republican majority in both the House and Senate is not that large. Many Republicans do support Ukraine but may be afraid to vote for aid. If just a few of them overcome that fear, the entire situation could change. Write them letters, donate to the American Ukraine PAC—you can influence them.
Third, and most important: we must support Ukraine with our money.
Yes, our contributions will never replace American aid; they won’t buy F-16s or HIMARS. But planes and missiles are playing an increasingly smaller role in this war, while drones are playing a bigger one. And with drones, we can help. If you’ve already donated to the Ukrainian Armed Forces, donate more. If you haven’t yet—start. Even if you still believe that things will change in six months, Ukraine needs to survive those six months first.
And finally, the most unpleasant part.
We must all prepare for the worst. Especially those living in Europe—it will hit us first. Learn how to handle weapons, especially if you’re a man under 60. Even better, gain technical skills that will make you more than just cannon fodder in a war: drones, 3D-printing, topography, communication technologies, cybersecurity, OSINT, etc. And, in the worst-case scenario, start preparing a safe base for your family somewhere far away—Latin America is ideal; missiles won’t reach there. Australia and New Zealand are less reliable, as they’re too close to Asia, where things could also spiral out of control.
I know this all sounds like a nightmare, but what can we do if that’s where we’ve found ourselves? I read theories that Trump wants to make a alliance with Putin against the EU and China. Or that he wants to divide the world into three spheres of influence between the U.S., Russia, and China. Just a week ago, these ideas seemed patently absurds, but today, we can’t rule anything out.
On our side of the fence, there was light and hope—the hope that someone else would stop Putin for us. On the other side, where we must now descend, it is dark and terrifying. No one has been there before, and we really don’t want to go down without adults to guide us. But we have no choice. The real adults have long since left, and those who pretended to be adults have turned out to be loud, petulant children.
We must become adults ourselves and fight against this darkness. Because there is no one else left to do it. And we must start right now.
Everything is changing rapidly, and the fence is shaking harder and harder. We need to climb down before we’re thrown off—headfirst.