La mise-en-scène
No, what we saw in the Oval Office was not a Netflix series or a bad episode of Game of Thrones. It was, in fact, a clash between the President and Vice President of the United States and the President of Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelensky, in a tense debate over the fate of a nation invaded by Russia in 2022 and embroiled in conflict since at least 2014.
Beyond the obvious, what happened on the night of February 28 was not a diplomatic dispute or a failed negotiation, as some media outlets have suggested. It was the starkest representation of a fractured foreign policy, crowned by the complete transformation of the great centers of global power.
The European Union (EU), Russia, NATO, and China will never be the same after this second Trump term, and the clash between the three actors mentioned above is merely a moment that underscores the need for a new global justice system.
Contrary to what many colleagues believe, the best way to explain Trump’s attitude is not through political philosophy treatises or diplomatic manuals but rather with a YouTube clip or a few decontextualized quotes from Machiavelli and Sun Tzu. Perhaps we are overanalyzing his logic and trying to find a sophisticated negotiation strategy. However, reality seems to suggest otherwise.
Trump is not a meticulous negotiator but a showman who understands power as a spectacle. A YouTube video of his participation in WrestleMania perfectly illustrates his method. He is not looking for agreements or consensus—his tactic consists of a constant performance of confrontation, where the image of domination matters more than any tangible outcome.
In this model, politics is nothing more than an extension of professional wrestling—an artificial showdown in which the only thing that matters is the spectacle and the benefits that can be extracted from it. This has been evident in his approach to tariffs and other international and domestic policy issues.
Usually, this kind of meeting in the Oval Office is brief: a few questions are answered, photos are taken, and discussions continue behind closed doors. For example, in 1987, during Mikhail Gorbachev’s visit as part of the INF Treaty negotiations, President Ronald Reagan did not allow the press to witness the most sensitive moments of the meeting.
This is the standard of meticulous diplomacy: agreements are negotiated out of the public eye and are only presented once both parties have reached acceptable terms. In this framework, the media is subordinated to politics.
However, the opposite happens in this administration: politics is subordinated to media representation. Allowing a spectacle of this nature to be broadcast live can only be explained by two possibilities: either it is a deliberate act or a sign that Trump has no genuine interest in political dialogue. In either case, both possibilities reinforce the idea that the U.S. president is not governing but rather staging his mandate as a political spectacle.
Zelensky’s reception at the White House already hinted that the tone of the meeting would be more of a power struggle than a serious negotiation. Upon welcoming the Ukrainian leader, Trump commented about his attire—a subtle yet effective mockery that set the tone for the encounter.
“Oh, you’re all dressed up,” Trump said sarcastically as he greeted Zelensky and shook his hand.
Later, inside the Oval Office, Brian Glenn, a commentator from Real America’s Voice, pressed the same point, adding that the American public had issues with Zelensky precisely because of his attire.
To top it off, on Friday, a reporter from the Russian state news agency TASS was also granted access to the meeting. The incident puzzled some attendees, as Reuters reported that the journalist was allowed in only after White House officials verified the identities of the reporters and permitted his entry.
Beyond the specific details of the staging, the conservative framing of Zelensky is not limited to the particular elements of this meeting. There is a broader context tied to Trump’s supposed negotiating skills and his way of presenting the resolution of the war as if it were just another business transaction—an acquisition in which the United States dictates the terms.
However, it is essential to be serious on this point. Pretending that an agreement is effective solely because it promises economic benefits is both reductionist and profoundly cynical. The war in Ukraine is not a business deal and cannot be resolved with the same logic used to negotiate a real estate contract or renegotiate tariffs. Framing it this way not only distorts the reality of the conflict but also trivializes the suffering of those who experience it firsthand.
Since 2022, Ukraine has been the stage of an aggression that has not only turned its territory into a battlefield but has also reshaped global power relations. The human losses, though difficult to quantify precisely, number in the tens of thousands on the Ukrainian side, while Russian casualties have reached hundreds of thousands. Added to this are more than ten million displaced people in the first year of the invasion alone, along with an energy and supply crisis destabilizing the continent.
The Opposition to Zelensky and the Hyper-Personalized Reading of the Conflict
There is another interpretation of this diplomatic confrontation that is even more revealing and symptomatic: what I call the hyper-personalized reading of the conflict. This refers to arguments that reduce the issue to the figure of Zelensky as if the war in Ukraine depended solely on his leadership.
This approach is not an isolated phenomenon but rather a discursive construction that transcends ideological differences and unites actors as diverse as Gustavo Petro, the president of Colombia; Viktor Orbán, the prime minister of Hungary; the Russian government; and the Trump administration, to name just a few.
According to this view, Zelensky is not just the leader of an invaded country but the symbol of a broader geopolitical strategy that challenges the current global order. This narrative was reinforced in the hours following the clash at the White House through a series of official statements and reactions that, despite their differences, shared a common interpretative pattern:
“Thank you, @POTUS for standing up for America in a way that no President has ever had the courage to do before. Thank you for putting America First. America is with you!” said Secretary of State Marco Rubio in X.
Senator Lindsey Graham with whom Zelenski had met minutes earlier, commented: “I’ve never been more proud of President Trump for showing the American people — and the world — you don’t trifle with this man … He wanted to get a ceasefire. He wants to end the war and Zelenskyy felt like he needed to bait Trump in the Oval Office.”
From Moscow, the reaction was not long in coming. Dmitry Medvedev, deputy chairman of the Russian Security Council, wrote on Telegram with calculated irony: “For the first time, Trump told the ‘cocaine clown’ the truth: the Kyiv regime is risking World War III. The ungrateful pig got a well-deserved slap in the face from his masters. It’s a good start, but not enough: we must put an end to military aid to the Nazi war machine.”
For his part, Orbán reinforced the idea of the “strong man” as the guarantor of peace, writing, “Strong men make peace, weak men make war. Today President @realDonaldTrump stood bravely for peace. Even if it was difficult for many to digest. Thank you, Mr. President!”
In all these opinions and similar ones, the dominant narrative remained the same: a Trump “disrespected in his own house” by an “ungrateful” and “provocative” Zelensky. In this version of events, the staged spectacle never existed, and all reactions were portrayed as genuine. Zelensky is framed as the true enemy of peace, while Trump embodies the new spirit of the era—a politics based on intimidation as a negotiation tactic, the “strongman” defending the nation and its borders from the countless aggressions of international institutions, NGOs, and the global justice system established after World War II.
Moreover, nearly all proponents of this narrative advocate for peace—but only through force. Ultimately, they appeal to “common sense” as the objective foundation of their truth.
Zelensky’s figure is obviously problematic, just as the origins of this war have been. However, accepting the narrative of the hyper-personalization of the conflict in Ukraine poses a much deeper problem.
Anyone who sees Zelensky as the main geopolitical obstacle and views the clash in the Oval Office as a justified reckoning is, indirectly, legitimizing a peace that will not be lasting—because, in reality, it is not designed for the Ukrainian and Russian people, but rather to preserve or redistribute spheres of influence.
The personalization of the argument reduces the conflict to a struggle between the “strong man” and the “weak man,” ignoring the complex geopolitical, economic, and sociocultural dimensions that shape it. Within this framework, neither elections in Ukraine, nor the appropriation of its natural resources, nor the redefinition of its territorial sovereignty will guarantee global stability because the core of the conflict lies in a more profound struggle: the rebalancing of power between blocs.
Peace on Washington’s terms would mean legitimizing an extraterritorial agreement that would leave Ukraine in a state of structural dependency—indebted and just as divided as when it all began.
So, What Really Happened in the Oval Office?
What took place in the White House was not an anomaly but a symptom of a world in the midst of reconfiguration. The consolidation of a unipolar structure is advancing through authoritarian and technocratic tendencies that call into question the future of multilateralism and any possibility of genuinely sustainable peace.
For weeks, media outlets have warned that, for the first time in 80 years, Europe can no longer rely on its strategic ally for defense. But is that really the case? Or are we instead facing the opposite scenario—where Europe, for the first time, must confront its own historical trauma, the very one left unresolved after World War II?
Europe’s so-called “awakening” is not the end of an idyllic dream but a confrontation with an uncomfortable reality: as a defeated power in World War II, it was reduced to a mere pawn on the chessboard of power between Moscow and Washington. Now, amid this unstable balance, the complexities of a new economic power—China—are also in play.
Thus, Europe’s greatest existential crisis does not lie solely in external threats but in its inability to define its own course. It is a bloc trapped between its dependence on the United States and its lack of political agency, desperately seeking a clear identity in the new global order.
This episode has also exposed the internal crisis of the United States, a nation experiencing what could be described as its own banana republic moment. The historical irony is undeniable: the country that for decades has considered itself above the structural crises affecting others—and that, in many cases, has helped provoke them—is now trapped in its own narrative.
This deterioration is not an isolated phenomenon but the result of a foreign policy that, for decades, has relied on coercion as its primary tool. This was evident in Latin America under the dictates of the Monroe Doctrine, as well as in Asia and Africa. The only difference now is that the doctrine of brute force and the imperialist discourse—once masked by diplomacy—are now displayed openly before the world. There are no longer any pretenses of consensus, only unfiltered domination.
Finally, the meeting also exposed the struggle between the neoliberal project that shaped the globalization we know today and the new technofeudalism that bets on artificial intelligence and technology as the driving forces of the future.
In other words, when Trump tells Zelensky that “he doesn’t have the cards” in his hand, he is really invoking the necessity of securing critical materials. According to the Ukrainian Geological Survey and Ukraine’s Ministry of Environmental Protection and Natural Resources, the country possesses 22 of the 50 strategic materials identified by the U.S. as critical. Additionally, it holds 25 of the 34 recognized by the EU. Among the most “competitive” are graphite, lithium, titanium, beryllium, and uranium.
The demand for these and other resources is crucial due to the transition to clean energy, digitalization, and transportation electrification. But beyond that, they are also essential for the AI industry, primarily because this sector depends on advanced computational infrastructures, massive data storage, and energy efficiency.
I know these lines may give the impression of a pessimistic analysis, but the Oval Office incident—like other critical junctures—should not be a cause for resignation but for action. The essential task is to use this moment to call for a new global project based on a narrative centered on social justice. Any emerging proposal that genuinely seeks peace must transcend the traditional bloc struggle because the coordinates of economy, history, revolution, ideology, and politics have shifted.
The war in Ukraine, the war in Gaza, and the re-election of Donald Trump are not isolated events; they are the three defining moments that mark the beginning of a new era of political redefinition. This is the moment when traditional leadership must give way to new forms of transversal cooperation focused on environmental sustainability and the reconstruction of human relations.
Ultimately, the defense of the Ukrainian and Gazan people is not just the defense of their nations—it is the defense of a possible world order that must prevail at the end of this period of systemic confrontation.
