When the Guns Go Quiet, the Choir Starts Screaming

For three and a half years, the air raid sirens have screamed across Ukraine.

But I think they’re about to be drowned out by a different kind of noise—a howling choir of outrage from Europe.

The day Ukraine signs a peace deal with Russia, the roar won’t come from the battlefield. It’ll come from Brussels, Berlin, and Oslo—from the political elites who sat this war out.

Not everyone’s ready for peace. Not the kind that's likely to come.

Zelenskyy won’t surrender willingly. His entire political identity is built on the promise of never giving up a single inch of Ukrainian soil. But reality is closing in—and it’s ugly.

Western weapons stockpiles are near empty. Europe’s “million shell plan” flopped spectacularly. Ukraine’s economy is on life support, fed by foreign cash. Worst of all: the human cost. A new wave of brutal mobilization laws is sending an entire generation of young men to the front—to what soldiers themselves call the meat grinder. The casualties are astronomical. The choice isn’t victory or defeat anymore. It’s a bitter deal that stops the slaughter—or national extinction.

At this point, it’s not really a choice. It’s a deadline.

Alaska: Power, Peace, and One Man’s Prize
That meeting in Alaska? It wasn’t diplomacy. It was geopolitical theater at its most savage. While European commentators rolled their eyes and wagged their fingers, the blueprint for peace was being sketched on the runway of a U.S. military base. Putin wasn’t invited to negotiate—he was summoned.

He landed to an avenue of F-22 Raptors lining the tarmac. As he walked the red carpet with Trump, a B-2 Spirit stealth bomber—flanked by four F-35s—ripped through the sky overhead. Putin looked up. Trump, directing the spectacle, barely blinked. On the short ride to “The Beast,” Putin’s nuclear briefcase, the Cheget, was in plain view—a reminder of his own leverage. Along the road: more fighter jets.

The message? Crystal clear. And it wasn’t just for Moscow. It was for Berlin and Brussels too:

This is the arena. These are the players. You’re not invited.
But behind the show of force lies Trump’s deeper obsession—his personal Holy Grail: the Nobel Peace Prize. Multiple sources say he’s fixated on winning it, especially since Obama got one. A Ukraine peace deal would be the ultimate trophy. And Alaska was act one. First: power. Then: peace.

And who’s going to stop him? Trump doesn’t take calls from Brussels. He listens to Ohio, Michigan, and Pennsylvania. And the message from there is loud and clear: no more blank checks for an endless war in Europe’s backyard.

Europe’s Burden, America’s Leverage
What happens if Ukraine—propped up by European hope and pressure—says no? Trump might just pull the plug and say:

“Suit yourselves. It’s your war now—pick up the tab.”

Without U.S. intelligence, logistics, and high-tech weapons, Ukraine’s war machine grinds to a halt. I don’t think Trump would cut off everything, but he’ll cut deep enough to force a deal.

And Europe? Europe can’t carry this alone. Eastern Europe will scream loudest, but without Washington, their willpower cracks. Germany, France, and the UK won’t bleed their welfare budgets for a war they can’t win. The endgame could be brutal: either Ukraine accepts the terms—or everything collapses.

And here’s the grotesque truth: The hypocrisy. All those shouting for Ukraine to fight on—where are their boots? Why aren’t their sons at the front? It’s easy to demand sacrifice when it’s someone else’s blood.

That’s why the howling choir is coming. Because peace will expose their cowardice.

Europe’s Big Irony: Powerless and Loud
Once the guns fall silent, the screaming will begin. Not in Ukraine—but in the European capitals where leaders will shout themselves hoarse that they were left out.

Right after the Alaska meeting, they issued a joint statement: “International borders must not be changed by force.” Diplomatic code for full-blown panic. For years, they’ve talked about “strategic autonomy.” If a peace deal is signed now, it’ll be final proof that Europe can’t act without the U.S.

The irony is savage: the people who wanted the war to drag on will be benched—exposed as all talk and no spine. The howling won’t be because peace was bad. It’ll be because peace came on someone else’s terms. And because it revealed what was always true: they were never willing to die for Donbas.

Who Took the First Step?
Let’s not forget who actually tried to talk to Putin since this war began. Most Western leaders had the chance. They passed.

Only two made the trip to Moscow before Trump got involved—and both were from the right.

• Feb 7, 2022 – Macron in Moscow
• Feb 15, 2022 – Scholz in Moscow
• Feb 24, 2022 – Russia invades Ukraine
• Apr 11, 2022 – Nehammer in Moscow (first Western leader post-invasion)
• Jul 5, 2024 – Orbán in Moscow
• Aug 15, 2025 – Trump in Alaska

While Europe issued statements and condemnation, Trump did what they wouldn’t: got Putin out of Moscow and onto a red carpet—on American soil.

What I Really Think
Let me be clear: I don’t believe Ukraine should give up a single inch of land. I hope they take back every part of Crimea—every last bit. In a just world, Russia would pay reparations for the devastation.

But I don’t think that world exists.

I know I’ll get hate for this. Probably from people who won’t even bother to read what I actually said. But I’m writing it anyway. Because I want this war to end. I want the rebuilding to begin. That’s what matters.

Within hours, we may know if the fighting stops—or if Europe is left to carry the war without America.