FEBRUARY 28 marked the last day of winter. Even in windy Dundee, there was a sense that spring was in the air. People strolled idly through the streets, enjoying a rare break from the harsh Scottish weather. Yet, for Ukrainians – even here, far from the frontlines – an uneasy tension lingered. The unspoken question hung in the air: What have we just witnessed?
This February 28 marked one of the lowest points in US-Ukrainian relations since 1991. It echoed another critical moment in history – August 1 of that year – when, just weeks before Ukraine’s parliament overwhelmingly ratified the independence that 92% of voters had supported, US President George HW Bush stood in Kyiv and delivered what became known as the infamous “Chicken Kyiv” speech. In it, he warned against what he called “suicidal nationalism,” effectively opposing Ukraine’s break from the collapsing Soviet Union. What happened at the White House on February 28 is a continuation of the policy of not recognizing Ukraine as a truly independent state, but rather as a piece of land somewhere near Moscow.
One of Trump’s remarks was “this is going to make great television”. In that single phrase lies the essence of his character – advertising, clicks, money. He saw it all as a grand spectacle, a production where he commanded the spotlight. A nation of 40 million, its fate teetering on the edge, reduced to just another dramatic twist in his reality show. But what else is playing out on this stage? A promised resort in Gaza, as if peace could be packaged like a luxury development? A "happy America," where allies watch in silent fear, wondering if their security is next on the chopping block? The script is being written in real time, but who’s really in control – and who will pay the price for the ratings?
But back to the "Fateforging" Room – a space where history is not just written but carefully staged. A room that has seen guests of every calibre, from Elvis Presley and Queen Elizabeth to Kanye West, making his entrance in a "MAGA" hat as if policy were just another track on his latest album. And yet, a stiff, conservative black suit? Hardly the dress code for such a place. This room calls for something more refined – perhaps a tailored smoking jacket from an exclusive downtown boutique. After all, in a setting where power is as much about perception as decision-making, appearances matter. A room like this doesn’t just host leaders, it curates them.
And power is everything in a world of Great Powers – where those without it are expected to quietly step aside. Why get caught up in outdated concepts like international law or a so-called rules-based order? That’s about as fashionable as wearing last season’s suit. Here, power isn’t just respected, it’s the only currency that matters. In the "Fateforging" Room, your voice carries weight if you have nuclear weapons – or better yet, a permanent seat on the Security Council. That earns you more than just a polite nod, it secures your place at the table. Macron and Starmer? They were treated well – not quite as equals, of course, but well enough to leave satisfied, particularly after Zelenskyy’s visit. But real power? That’s a different story.
If you have influence, if you can shift the global balance, then you are Russia or China. And when you walk through those doors, dinner isn’t something you wait for – it’s served the moment you arrive.
So, where am I going with this? In today’s America world, marketing and clicks aren’t just important – they’re everything. Every high-stakes meeting, every handshake, every carefully staged press moment isn’t just a conversation between two leaders. It’s a spectacle, a performance designed to sway audiences, capture attention, and, most importantly, dominate the narrative. In this game, playing defence is a losing strategy. Victory belongs to those who go on the offensive – who strike first, set the tone, and leave their opponents scrambling in shock and awe.
Politics, like business, like war, is not about reacting. It’s about seizing control of the story before someone else does. And here we are – provocations, interruptions, the carefully choreographed spectacle of two against one. A staged imbalance, where speaking is not just a right but a privilege. And so the real question isn’t whether I have something to say, but whether I have enough power in this room to be allowed to say it.
We live in a world dominated by Great Powers once again. The illusion of a rules-based order, the carefully constructed ideals of diplomacy and cooperation – these were always fragile, always contingent on the willingness of the powerful to play along. But now, the mask has slipped. What February 28 revealed was not just another diplomatic manoeuvre but a deeper truth: In this world, influence is not earned through principle but through force, leverage, and the ability to command attention. The spectacle matters more than the cause, the optics more than the outcome.
For Ukraine, this was a moment of reckoning – not just with its own fight for survival but with the reality that its fate is being decided in rooms where power, not justice, holds the gavel. And in those rooms, voices are only heard if they carry enough weight, if they have the means to impose their presence rather than request an audience.