Shashank Joshi, our defence editor, on the fallout from the White House meeting

In 1961 John F. Kennedy, America’s president, met Nikita Khrushchev, leader of the Soviet Union, in Vienna. “Worst thing in my life,” Kennedy would reflect later. “He savaged me.” But he did so in private. The summit was a disaster. But at least it was a private disaster. The same cannot be said for the televised meeting between Donald Trump, Volodymyr Zelensky and J.D. Vance on February 28th, which descended into acrimony and ended with the Ukrainian president essentially being booted out of the White House.

What happens next? A meeting of European leaders, with Canada’s, on March 2nd offers some clues. In the immediate aftermath of the Oval Office row, Europeans were aghast. Never in history had an American president treated an ally with such contempt in public. The most striking message came from Kaja Kallas, the former leader of Estonia who is now the European Union’s foreign-policy chief: “Today, it became clear that the free world needs a new leader.”

In practice, the London summit suggests that European leaders still believe they can and must bring Mr Trump round, rather than wash their hands of transatlantic relations. As I have described in previous newsletters, Britain and France have proposed deploying a small American-backed European military force in Ukraine after a ceasefire. Its purpose would not be to separate the warring parties, like a traditional peacekeeping force, or to sit at the front line as a bulwark against Russia, but to reassure Ukraine’s government by serving as a second echelon of defence to the rear, sitting in Ukrainian cities and around critical infrastructure. The idea is that Europe will collectively put together a proposal, and then take it to Mr Trump in the hope of influencing any peace deal that he tries to broker with Russia. France has also proposed a one-month truce covering air, sea and energy infrastructure attacks—though not the ground war.

Will the plan work? That is less clear. All of these discussions are at a preliminary stage, according to officials involved with the planning. Some in Europe are sceptical. Front-line states like Estonia and Finland are not wild about the idea of diverting forces away from NATO, though Poland is expected to be more open to the idea after its election concludes. Mr Trump, for his part, is still fuming about the contretemps in the White House, which kicked off when Mr Zelensky dared to disagree with the president over the timeline of the war, and then had the temerity to express mild disagreement with Mr Vance, too. On March 3rd Mr Trump was triggered, once more, by a news clip in which Mr Zelensky expressed the view that peace with Russia was distant. Mr Trump might expect a public apology, even some grovelling; there are intensive efforts under way to re-connect the two men. Notably, Mark Rutte, NATO’s secretary-general, said that the onus was on Mr Zelensky to “restore” the relationship. In private, European leaders, though sympathetic towards Mr Zelensky, have been advising a conciliatory approach. Mr Zelensky is thought to be open to an expression of regret.

More important, is Mr Trump open to backing any European post-ceasefire force in Ukraine? Emmanuel Macron, France’s president, said that he was. Mr Trump himself has been evasive on the topic, suggesting that a minerals deal with Ukraine, which until their bust-up he and Mr Zelensky had been  expected to sign at the White House, would be an adequate guarantee in itself: “We will be on the land and that way there is going to be automatic security because nobody is going to be messing around with our people when we are there.”

Mr Trump says that Mr Zelensky should sign first and discuss security afterwards; Mr Zelensky would naturally like a tangible assurance before signing away one of his main sources of leverage. Moreover, Sergei Lavrov, Russia’s foreign minister, has said Russia would not accept any Western troops in Ukraine. Setting aside the fact that some special forces are there already, in small numbers, would Mr Trump be willing to confront Russia on this point? Or is he set on a deal at any cost?

That is the fear of European leaders; either that Mr Trump cuts a deal with Vladimir Putin directly or that diplomacy collapses and that Mr Trump blames Ukraine. In either scenario, Mr Trump would be minded to sever aid. “I have determined that President Zelenskyy is not ready for Peace if America is involved,” wrote Mr Trump on February 28th, “because he feels our involvement gives him a big advantage in negotiations.” If America did withdraw, Europeans would struggle to fill the gap. Yes, they provide the bulk of aid, but America provides certain vital things: interceptors for Patriot air-defence batteries, GMLRS precision-guided rockets for HIMARS launchers and a lot of intelligence. One of the key questions that my colleagues and I will be asking in the coming weeks is whether alternative sources or substitutes might be available.

The larger fear is that we are looking at a new and more radical America. The public beating meted out to Mr Zelensky was remarkable in itself. But so too was the fact that it was not just the president who seemed to revel in it. Lindsey Graham, an influential senator, and Mike Johnson, the Republican speaker of the House, both backed Mr Trump and suggested that Mr Zelensky should resign. “I have never been more proud of the president,” wrote Mr Graham. Tulsi Gabbard, the director of national intelligence, echoed and endorsed Mr Trump’s wild claims that Ukraine was dragging America into a third world war. In a later interview, Ms Gabbard, who has a long history of pro-Russian positions, had not one word of criticism for Mr Putin; instead she attacked Mr Zelensky again.

Several generations of American spy chiefs will be turning in their graves: America’s top intelligence official might as well be reciting talking points written by the Kremlin. I ask myself: how would these people respond to a Russian attack on NATO? Would they come to the continent’s defence, or would they rush to play down Russian provocations, cut a deal with the Kremlin and squeeze allies for money and minerals? The answer frightens me. I am told that, at the London summit on March 2nd, many of the most pro-American leaders in Europe, such as Poland’s Donald Tusk and Denmark’s Mette Frederiksen, sounded a radical note.

Thank you for your flood of letters and apologies that I can only get to a fraction of them. Janet asks about Ukraine’s mineral wealth. The truth is that we don’t have a great sense of what is under the ground, despite Mr Trump’s vague promises of hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth. Many of the deposits may be deep down or in unprofitable concentrations; a good chunk are in Russian-held territory. As Harry Sanderson notes for the RUSI think-tank, developing the lithium and graphite deposits already discovered would need almost $1bn, but lithium prices have fallen by 80% since 2022—at a time when investors are sceptical about developing lithium supplies even in peaceful jurisdictions like Australia. The minerals deal still seems half-baked to me.

Jason and Caroline ask how Europe can improve the command and control of its military forces, one of the areas where it is dependent on America. There are certainly efforts to build military headquarters that are notionally independent of America. Look at the British-led Joint Expeditionary Force or the European Union’s Military Planning and Conduct Capability (MPCC) in Brussels. The problem is that these cannot realistically command very large formations of the sort that would be involved in a major war on the continent. These could be expanded, of course. But you need staff officers with experience of large and complex operations, and that sort of experience takes years to build up. The paradox is that we Europeans might need more help from America in the short-term in order to build up the capability that would be needed in the event of America’s departure.

Rodric Braithwaite, who as some of you will know is a former British ambassador in Moscow, suggests that we might be over-thinking the amount of force required to deter Russia. He proposes “a ramshackle and under-equipped force along [the European] boundary with Russia which it would cost the Russians too much to overcome”. I think there is something to be said for this. The Baltic states, observing the lessons from Ukraine, where physical fortifications have proven vital, have been building a network of defences as well as a “drone wall” to monitor the border more effectively. The British Army is trying to build a Ukraine-like network of sensors connected to weapons, which it will first roll out in Estonia. European states are also investing in so-called deep strike weapons to hit high-value targets well behind enemy lines. It would make sense to accelerate those efforts as a hedge against American withdrawal. The key is to think about what would offset Russia’s superiority in manpower and munitions, and what could be done as quickly as possible.

In a couple of weeks I’ll be recording a pilot episode of an exciting new spin-out of the War Room: a live show. The pilot will be a conversation with Malcolm Chalmers, the deputy director of RUSI and an expert on nuclear weapons. I plan to focus on the question of nuclear deterrence in Europe and the debate over how Britain and France might expand the role of their nuclear forces to hedge against American withdrawal. Please send in your questions.

Finally, an apology. Last week I quoted Bruegel, a think-tank, as saying that Europe would only need to spend an additional 0.12% of its GDP to make up for American contributions. If only it were so easy. This was, of course, the figure to make up for American contributions to Ukraine, not the amount needed to defend the continent as a whole. The true figure is of course an additional percentage point or more, a far trickier sum to raise. Sorry for the sloppiness there. I would like to leave the dodgy facts to Ms Gabbard.