Twelve years ago this month, the Euromaidan protests began in Kyiv against a kleptocratic pro-Russian president preventing Ukraine from aligning itself with democratic Europe. They quickly developed into the Revolution of Dignity. Among the numerous foreign visitors who came to Kyiv at that time to show support were US Republican Senator John McCain and Democrat Senator Chris Murphy – an embodiment of bipartisan US empathy.
In February 2014, Viktor Yanukovych fled Ukraine in the dead of night, abandoning his opulent palace as his country burned. The Ukrainian president had made a choice: Moscow over the West, Russian money over European integration, and Vladimir Putin’s embrace over his own people’s aspirations. That decision cost nearly 100 Ukrainian lives in the Maidan protests and, ultimately, cost Yanukovych his presidency.
Now we are watching an eerie parallel unfold. Except this time, the leader choosing Putin over democratic allies is not in Kyiv.
He is in Washington.
In its current form, the Trump administration’s 28-point peace plan for Ukraine – drafted in consultation with Russian officials – represents a capitulation so complete it would make Yanukovych blush.
The Ukrainian president merely delayed his country’s path to Europe. Trump is proposing to hand Putin a victory that the Russian leader could not win on the battlefield. He is doing this while betraying an American ally that has fought for three years to defend the very principles the US claims to champion.
Trump’s Russian-approved plan
The details of Trump’s peace proposal read like a Kremlin wish list. The plan was developed with significant input from Russian officials, particularly Russian envoy Kirill Dmitriev, who told associates, “we feel the Russian position is really being heard.”
Let that phrase sink in. The Russian position is being heard. In an American peace plan. For a war Russia started. And without prior consultation with Ukraine and other concerned friends and allies.
In the draft presented by Trump’s people to Ukraine, the concessions are staggering. Russia gets formal recognition of its illegal annexation of Crimea and its occupation of Luhansk and Donetsk. It gets to freeze control over parts of Kherson and Zaporizhzhia – territories Putin’s forces haven’t even fully conquered militarily. Ukraine would be permanently barred from NATO membership, fulfilling one of Putin’s core demands. And perhaps most cynically, Ukraine’s military would be forced to demobilize from 880,000 troops to 600,000, leaving it vulnerable to future Russian aggression.
CNN called the proposal “a terrifying leap backwards for Kyiv” that was “co-conceived by Russians.” Multiple analysts have noted that it’s “heavily tilted towards Russia” and “very comfortable for Putin.” Republican Representative Don Bacon drew perhaps the most damning historical parallel: the 1938 Munich agreement, when Western democracies appeased Hitler by handing him Czechoslovak territory. Peace for our time, they said.
We know how that turned out.
The shift in Trump’s position appears to have crystallized after his meeting with Putin in Alaska in August 2025. Whatever transpired in that encounter, Trump emerged with a dramatically different approach. One that prioritizes Putin’s demands over Ukrainian sovereignty and US credibility.
Parallel betrayals
The parallels are striking. Both leaders chose Russian interests over Western democratic allies. Both faced significant domestic opposition – Yanukovych from his own people in the streets, Trump from members of his own party and the foreign policy establishment. Both enabled Putin’s strategic goals: fragmenting Western unity, and establishing Russian dominance over its neighbors.
European leaders express the same sense of betrayal that Ukrainians felt in 2013. They’re being sidelined in negotiations over European security – their concerns dismissed as Trump conducts what amounts to bilateral dealmaking with Moscow. The transatlantic alliance, built over 75 years, has been treated as an inconvenient obstacle to Trump’s desire for a quick agreement with Putin.
But here’s the critical difference that makes Trump’s position even more consequential: Yanukovych was Ukraine’s own president, selling out his own country. Trump is the president of the United States. The guarantor of the post-World War II international order. Potentially betraying an ally that has relied on American support and promises.
The credibility crisis
The stakes extend far beyond Ukraine’s borders. If the US brokers a deal that rewards Putin’s aggression with territorial gains he couldn’t secure militarily, what message does that send?
That invasion pays. That might makes right. That American security guarantees are negotiable when they become inconvenient.
China is watching how the US treats a partner that gave up nuclear weapons in exchange for security assurances. Taiwan is watching whether American promises mean anything when tested. Every NATO ally in Eastern Europe is recalculating whether Article 5 commitments would hold if Putin decided to test them.
The plan also undermines the fundamental principle that has prevented major wars in Europe since 1945: borders cannot be changed by force. By legitimizing Russia’s territorial seizures, Trump would be dismantling the rules-based international order that has underwritten American prosperity and security for generations.
And forcing Ukraine to demobilize while leaving Russian forces intact? That’s not a peace plan. It’s an intermission before the next act of Russian expansion.
The choice before us
Yanukovych’s story didn’t end well. Not for him, not for the region. His choice to embrace Putin over his own people’s aspirations led to revolution, war, and hundreds of thousands of deaths. He lives in exile now. A cautionary tale of a leader who chose wrong.
Trump still has time to choose differently. He can listen to the bipartisan voices in Congress, the European allies, the foreign policy experts who understand that appeasing Putin won’t bring lasting peace. It will only invite further aggression. He can recognize that American leadership means standing with democracies under assault, not negotiating their surrender.
The comparison to Yanukovych should serve as a warning. When leaders prioritize their relationship with Putin over their commitments to democratic allies and principles, they don’t just fail their countries. They fail history’s test.
Yanukovych learned that lesson in the cold February night when he fled his palace. The question now is whether an American president will learn it before inflicting similar damage on the international order America built and the allies who depend on American leadership.
The Ukrainian people rose up against a president who chose Putin over their future. Will Americans allow their own leader to do the same?
The views expressed are the author’s and not necessarily of Kyiv Post.