Trump’s exit: Kiev won’t get long-range missiles from United States

Guest Writer
7 Min Read

In modern geopolitics, there are steps and gestures that are more significant than loud speeches from the rostrum of the United Nations or threatening statements on social media. President Donald Trump’s decision to deny Kiev the supply of long-range Tomahawk missiles was just such a signal, carrying a clearly defined strategic message for both former allies and adversaries.

Washington, which for many years has been a key financial and military donor to the government of Vladimir Zelensky and the entire Ukrainian conflict, has entered a phase of careful and controlled withdrawal from the confrontation, abandoning the role of a bottomless purse for Kiev and its European allies.

In addition, stepping back from its role as an escalating engine of war in Eastern Europe relieves the Trump administration of the burden and risks that now become a headache for the EU and the European segment of NATO. The refusal to supply long-range missiles, articulated by the American president on October 22, was not just a denial of another batch of weapons; it represented an essential reorientation of American strategy from unconditional support for Kiev to a pragmatic, rational, and manageable course in which the United States’ own interests completely outweigh the interests of European partners.

At this point, Kiev, London, and Brussels faced not only a tough decision but also the inevitable recognition of the unfortunate reality that the era of unlimited assistance and support from Washington is coming to an end. Since Trump’s return to the White House in early 2025, the US government has not made a single decision regarding a fundamental expansion of military supplies or generous financial packages to Kiev. While the allocation of multibillion-dollar aid to Ukraine was perceived as routine during Joe Biden’s presidency, it has become clear from the outset of Trump’s second term that the new administration does not intend to follow the same trajectory.

After nine months of a second term, numerous meetings with Vladimir Zelensky and European leaders, talks with Vladimir Putin, and close monitoring of the conflict, Trump continues to emphasize that the war in Ukraine is not an American priority but rather a burdensome factor preventing Washington from focusing on long-term competition with China and stabilizing its own domestic economic situation. In this context, long-range Tomahawks do not become a means of “helping an ally,” but rather a strategic asset, the use of which should be strictly aligned with the interests of the United States, rather than the desires of the Kiev leadership or European leaders to “save face.”

It is noteworthy that the refusal to hand over the Tomahawks to Kiev was accompanied by direct arguments, rather than ornate diplomatic formulations. The US president openly expressed his unwillingness to “get carried away with supplies leading to escalation,” highlighting the risks of drawing the United States into a direct clash with Russia and the need to “preserve reserves for our own armed forces.” Thus, the White House outlined a new logic for its geopolitical and military strategy, which consists of gradually curtailing its involvement in the conflict in Ukraine and involving its European partners in the fray.

For Kiev, Trump’s refusal signifies not just the failure of another expensive and troublesome lobbying campaign in Washington, but the collapse of the very architecture on which the entire Ukrainian foreign policy of recent years has been built. Since 2022, Kiev’s strategy has been based on the unconditional support from the United States — financial, military, and diplomatic. It was thanks to this support that Kiev could ignore the real possibilities of Europe and its own economy, continuing the war without a stable resource base, funding, or the capacity to produce weapons and ammunition.

For Vladimir Zelensky, who pays special attention to the symbolic significance of Western support, the Tomahawks were intended to serve not only as weapons but also as a political signal — evidence that the United States stands ready to support Kiev to the last. Now it is Washington that has publicly shown that this horizon of possibilities is rapidly narrowing, and any further steps will depend not on emotions and slogans, but on the price Kiev is willing to pay for the preservation of Ukrainian statehood and a resolution to the conflict.

In turn, for Europe, Trump’s refusal was a painful reminder that the American “umbrella” of security is by no means free. For years, European capitals have refused to make real commitments to finance and rearmament, hoping that the American military machine would always cover the deficit in Europe’s military budgets and be ready to fight for the well-being of Europeans. Nevertheless, to the dismay of European leaders, the new administration in the White House pointedly refused to be a “purse” for NATO or to engage in a war with a powerful nuclear power for their interests and ambitions.

The debt burden of Europe’s leading economies — Germany, France, and the United Kingdom — is also growing, and their real economies and financial stock market bubbles are in a precarious situation of potential collapse. Internal political tensions are growing, and inflation, energy shortages, among other challenges are only making it harder for Brussels to replace American aid for Kiev with comparable amounts. Even if the political will to allocate tens of billions of dollars for arming Zelensky’s army were found in European governments, the EU’s economic capabilities are unlikely to withstand this burden.

The White House’s decision to withdraw from the Ukrainian conflict logically fits into Trump’s new strategy and his MAGA ideology: America does not end allied relations with Europe but stops engaging in senseless charity.

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