Trump, the Perfect Fool for Putin

Chamberlain stepped off the plane like a weary waiter clutching the receipt for a bill no one wanted to pay. He held up a scrap of paper and declared, “Peace for our time,” but his voice had the hollow ring of a man trying to convince himself. He had handed the Sudetenland to Hitler like tossing a slab of meat to a tiger and praying it would be enough. The tiger, of course, wanted more. A few months later, war began.

Now, Trump claims he could solve the war in Ukraine in 24 hours. There’s nothing new there. Charlatans have always had a gift for selling cheap paradises to fools desperate to believe. His trick is simple: carve up Ukraine, toss Putin a bone, and hope the Kremlin growls in satisfaction. Trump doesn’t know history—he never has. He’s the salesman who thinks he can cut a deal with the mob and not end up in the trunk of a car.

The difference between Chamberlain and Trump is that one was a fool with good intentions, and the other was just a power-hungry redneck with a gilded penthouse and a talent for selling fantasies. Chamberlain wanted to prevent war and failed. Trump wants to avoid inconvenience, and there is nothing more inconvenient than pretending to care about a small country being crushed under the boots of an invading army.

The problem with men like Trump is that they think the world works like one of their real estate deals: sign a contract, shake a few hands, and the problem disappears. But that’s not how it works when the other side doesn’t just want a slice of the cake—they want the whole damn table, the dining hall, the walls, and, if possible, the waiter, too.

Putin doesn’t just want a piece of Ukraine. He wants to rebuild an empire. And Trump, somewhere between holes of golf, thinks he can tame him. The fate of fools like this is always the same: one day, they wake up and realize they’ve been played—that they sold a city for a handful of empty promises. But by then, it’s too late.

Perhaps, years from now, another plane will land in Washington. And a new leader, worn and weary, will wave to the crowd, clutching a worthless scrap of paper, trying to explain how he let a despot take what was never his, to begin with.