Timothy Snyder
The Globe and Mail
August 18, 2025
In the ancient world, people spoke of “Ultima Thule,” a mythical land in the extreme north, at the end of the Earth. By venturing north to Alaska to meet Russian President Vladimir Putin, U.S. President Donald Trump reached his own Ultima Thule, the Arctic endpoint of a foreign-policy dreamworld.
For Mr. Trump, foreign leaders can be dealt with like Americans: with fantastic promises and obnoxious bullying. But the fantasies do not function beyond America’s borders. The empty offer of a “beautiful” future does not move dictators who commit crimes to advance their own visions nor does it affect people who are defending their families from an invasion.
Mr. Putin has no reason to prefer Mr. Trump’s vision of a beautiful future to his own: a Ukraine with a puppet government, a population cowed by violence, patriots buried in mass graves and resources in Russian hands.
Like Mr. Trump’s fantasizing, his bullying also does not work abroad. To be sure, many Americans are afraid of Mr. Trump. He has purged his own political party, with threats of violence helping to keep Republicans in line. He is deploying the U.S. military as a police force, first in California and now in Washington.
But foreign enemies apprehend these intimidation tactics differently. The very moves that shock Americans delight America’s foes. In Moscow, deployments of soldiers inside the U.S. look like weakness.
Tough talk may resonate in America, where words are confused with action. But for Russian leaders, it covers a weak foreign policy. Mr. Trump has made extraordinary concessions to Russia in exchange for nothing at all. Russia has repaid him by continuing its war and mocking him on state-controlled television.
Even the choice of Alaska for the summit was a concession, and an odd one. Russians, including major figures in state media, routinely claim Alaska for Russia. Inviting people who claim your territory inside your main military base on that territory, to discuss a war of aggression they started without inviting anyone representing the country they invaded – well, that is just about as far as a foreign-policy fantasy can go. It is Ultima Thule.
U.S. President Donald Trump says he’d back European security guarantees for Ukraine, though he stopped short of committing U.S. troops to the effort during talks with President Volodymyr Zelensky at the White House.
It was the very end because Mr. Trump had already conceded the more fundamental issues. He does not speak of justice for Russian war criminals or of the reparations Russia owes. He grants that Russia can determine Ukraine’s and America’s foreign policy on the crucial point of NATO membership. And he accepts that Russia’s invasions should lead not only to de facto but also de jure changes in sovereign control over territory.
Mr. Trump speaks loudly and carries a small stick. The notion that words alone can do the trick has led him to the position that Mr. Putin’s words matter, and so he had to go to Alaska for a “listening exercise.” Mr. Trump’s career has been full of listening to Mr. Putin, and then repeating what Mr. Putin says.
In Alaska, Mr. Trump faced a very simple question: Would Mr. Putin accept an unconditional ceasefire or not, as he had demanded? Mr. Putin has refused any such thing, and he did so again in Alaska. The Russians proposed an obviously ridiculous and provocative counter: Ukraine should now formally concede territory that Russia does not even occupy, lands on which Ukraine has built its defences. And then Russia can of course attack again, from a far better position.
Mr. Putin knows that Mr. Trump wants the Nobel Peace Prize, so his obvious move is to suggest to Mr. Trump that the war will end someday, and that the U.S. President will get the credit, if the two of them just keep talking – “Next time in Moscow?” Mr. Putin asked before leaving Alaska – while Russia keeps bombing.
Now that Mr. Trump has failed to secure a ceasefire, there are two paths he can take. He can continue the fantasy, though it will become ever more obvious, even to his friends and supporters, that the fantasy is Mr. Putin’s. Or he can make the war harder for Mr. Putin and thereby bring its end closer.
The U.S. has not formalized its outlandish concessions to Russia, and Mr. Trump could rescind them in one press conference. The U.S. has the policy instruments to change the direction of the war in Ukraine, and could employ them.
Mr. Trump has threatened “severe consequences” if Mr. Putin did not accept an unconditional ceasefire. Those are words, and thus far, the consequences for Russia of Mr. Trump’s words have been more words. This all becomes clear now, at Ultima Thule. Where will he go next?
Timothy David Snyder is an American historian specializing in the history of Central and Eastern Europe, the Soviet Union, and the Holocaust. He holds the inaugural Temerty Chair in Modern European History at the Munk School of Global Affairs and Public Policy at the University of Toronto and is a permanent fellow at the Institute for Human Sciences in Vienna. He has written several books, including Bloodlands: Europe Between Hitler and Stalin, On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century, The Road to Unfreedom, and Our Malady. Several of them have been described as best-sellers. Snyder serves on the Committee on Conscience of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. He is also a member of the Council on Foreign Relations. He is completing a short book about the history of Ukraine and its current crisis, is working on a history of Eastern Europe as well as a family history of
nationalism, serves as Series Editor for the Rochester Studies in East and Central Europe, and is on the Editorial Board of New Studies in European History (a series at Cambridge University Press), of the Journal of Modern European History, and of East European Politics and Societies.