Reflections on the Trump-Putin Meeting in Alaska
I’m glad President Donald Trump met with his Russian counterpart, Vladimir Putin, in Alaska. No country possesses more nuclear warheads than Russia, so dialogue is essential. As Churchill once allegedly observed, “jaw-jaw” is better than “war-war,” especially when nuclear weapons and humanity’s fate are at stake.
Unsurprisingly, the two leaders announced no breakthrough on ending the Russia-Ukraine War. Still, the fact they were talking matters. They even floated the idea of a second meeting in Moscow. Putin quipped about it; Trump replied that he might “take some heat” for visiting the Kremlin. Innocuous banter, yes—but I’ll take that over nuclear threats any day.

The transcript of their closing remarks made for revealing reading. Putin spoke first, striking an amicable and measured tone. He invoked the U.S.-Soviet alliance of World War II, when both nations fought a common enemy. His words were thoughtful, cautious, above all diplomatic. He repeatedly emphasized the “businesslike” nature of the meeting, framing his approach as pragmatic and respectful—an approach likely to resonate with Trump, the self-proclaimed master of “the art of the deal.” Putin’s message, in essence, was: I’m someone you can do business with.
Trump’s remarks, by contrast, were more improvisational, filled with his trademark superlatives. Putin’s words, he said, were “very profound,” the meeting itself “very productive,” and the progress “great.” He even declared his relationship with Putin “fantastic.” That may be fantasy, but better that than animosity and hostility.
One passage from Trump’s comments stood out as both peculiar and revealing:
I would like to thank President Putin and his entire team—faces I know in many cases, faces I see all the time in the newspapers. You’re almost as famous as the boss—especially this one right over here. But we have had good, productive meetings over the years, and I hope to have more in the future.
That offhand line about Putin’s advisers being “almost as famous as the boss,” and about seeing their faces “all the time in the newspapers,” points to Trump’s obsession with fame. For Trump, people seem to matter only if they are celebrities. Recall his boasts about his own face appearing on the cover of Time magazine. His ego and craving for recognition make him vulnerable to manipulation. Unless you’re “famous”—someone whose picture appears regularly in the media—you scarcely exist in his world.
Trump’s deep need to be respected by other famous figures serves as a way to affirm his own worth. The danger, of course, is where that need might lead him—and the country.
