I just returned from Kyiv, where the weight of anticipation hangs heavier than the summer air. The capital’s resilience remains visible—cafĂ©s operating alongside air raid shelters, children playing in parks—but conversations inevitably turn to one topic: the proposed summit between Vladimir Putin and president-elect Donald Trump.
Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney held a closed-door meeting with President Volodymyr Zelenskyy yesterday, their third consultation since Trump’s election victory last November. According to sources close to the Ukrainian presidential administration, Carney pledged continued military assistance regardless of potential U.S. policy shifts.
“We stand firmly with Ukraine in its fight for sovereignty,” Carney stated during the brief press appearance following their two-hour discussion. “Canada’s commitment isn’t contingent on other nations’ positions.”
Zelenskyy, appearing visibly fatigued but resolute, emphasized Ukraine’s red lines. “Peace cannot come at the cost of our territory or our freedom to determine our future,” he said, indirectly addressing rumors that Trump might pressure Ukraine to cede occupied territories for a ceasefire.
The proposed Trump-Putin summit, tentatively scheduled for September in Geneva, has raised alarm throughout Eastern Europe. Polish Foreign Minister Radosław Sikorski told me last week in Warsaw that Central European nations are preparing contingency plans should U.S. support for Ukraine diminish.
“History has taught us to have backup strategies,” Sikorski remarked, referencing Poland’s increased defense spending, now at 4% of GDP—double NATO‘s recommended minimum.
Behind diplomatic language lies growing anxiety. A senior Ukrainian defense official, speaking on condition of anonymity, conveyed frustration: “We’re fighting with one arm while negotiating with the other. Meanwhile, Russia launches missiles at our cities daily.”
This tension appears in Ukrainian polling data. Recent surveys by the Kyiv International Institute of Sociology show 73% of Ukrainians oppose territorial concessions, though economic hardship has intensified. With GDP still 30% below pre-war levels despite modest recovery, according to World Bank figures, everyday Ukrainians face painful trade-offs.
“I want peace, but not surrender,” said Natalia Kravchuk, 42, who I met at a Kyiv marketplace. “My son is fighting near Pokrovsk. How can I tell him his sacrifices meant nothing?”
Trump’s campaign promises to end the war “within 24 hours” have been met with skepticism by security experts. “Any sustainable resolution requires addressing Russia’s systematic violations of international law,” explained Dr. Marta Hryshko of the Ukrainian Institute for Strategic Studies. “Quick fixes typically create larger problems down the road.”
The European Union has attempted to strengthen Ukraine’s negotiating position. Last month, the European Commission accelerated €4.5 billion in military aid while fast-tracking Ukraine’s EU candidacy process—though full membership remains years away.
Meanwhile, Russian forces continue grinding advances in eastern Ukraine, gaining approximately 340 square kilometers since June, according to Institute for the Study of War assessments. Military analysts suggest this timing isn’t coincidental.
“Putin wants maximum territorial control before negotiations,” explained retired NATO commander General Ben Hodges in a recent Foreign Policy interview. “It’s textbook leverage-building.”
Canadian-Ukrainian military cooperation has intensified amid these developments. Ottawa recently announced an additional $500 million assistance package, including sophisticated anti-drone systems and winter combat equipment. Training programs for Ukrainian forces will expand through 2026, contradicting speculation about Western fatigue.
Energy security dominated portions of the Carney-Zelenskyy talks. With Europe reducing Russian gas dependency, Ukraine’s pipeline infrastructure remains strategically crucial. Sources familiar with the discussions indicate Canada has offered technical assistance to harden these systems against winter attacks.
The diplomatic landscape grows increasingly complex as the summit approaches. France and Germany have publicly supported Ukraine while privately urging pragmatism. Turkey continues mediating, though its effectiveness has diminished as positions harden.
Amidst this diplomatic chess match, ordinary Ukrainians endure daily struggles. Power outages in Kharkiv now average six hours daily following targeted strikes on energy infrastructure. Coastal cities face economic devastation with Black Sea shipping routes effectively blockaded despite international maritime corridor agreements.
As I departed Kyiv yesterday, air raid sirens wailed—the forty-third alert this month alone. Locals barely reacted, continuing their routines with practiced stoicism.
“We’ve been fighting for our existence for generations,” historian Oleksandra Matviyenko told me. “This isn’t just about territory. It’s about whether nations can still determine their own futures in the 21st century.”
For Zelenskyy and Carney, this principle undergirds their strategic alignment. Whether it survives contact with the Trump-Putin summit remains the question keeping European capitals awake at night.
