Trump and Putin should not meet face-to-face (at least not like this)

Professors Nicholas Wheeler (Birmingham) & Marcus Holmes (William & Mary) examine summits past & what Trump should do if he is serious about peace for Ukraine.

Photos side by side of Presidents Donald Trump, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, and Vladimir Putin

Donald Trump, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, and Vladimir Putin have had strained and complex relationships throughout their tenures as world leaders. Credit: AP Photo/Aurelien Morissard, left and centre, Pavel Bednyakov, right via Alamy.

As US President Donald Trump prepares to meet Russian President Vladimir Putin in Alaska today (15th August), the stakes are extraordinarily high. The war in Ukraine has killed tens of thousands, displaced millions, and destabilised Europe’s security order. To anticipate what might happen in Alaska, history offers a playbook – and perhaps a warning. Key questions decide whether summits make history: Will they clarify each side’s intentions and red lines? And will they build enough trust to enable genuine progress? History provides several instructive cases – each combining these elements differently – and a couple carry special warnings for this meeting.

Vienna 1961 – Kennedy & Khrushchev: A Cautionary Tale

In June 1961, a young John F. Kennedy met Nikita Khrushchev in Vienna and left feeling outmatched. “Worst thing in my life,” Kennedy confessed afterwards. The summit did clarify intentions – each realised how far apart they stood on Berlin – but it built no trust. Instead, Khrushchev came away convinced that Kennedy lacked resolve, emboldening him to test US limits. Just two months later, the Soviet leader erected the Berlin Wall, and the following year, he tested Kennedy’s resolve by audaciously placing nuclear missiles in Cuba, precipitating the most dangerous crisis of the nuclear age. Vienna shows how a summit can deepen divisions and invite dangerous gambles.

Geneva 1985 – Reagan & Gorbachev: A Tentative Thaw

When Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev met in Geneva in November 1985, expectations were modest. Reagan, convinced Vienna had failed for lack of personal rapport, structured the meeting to encourage one-on-one interaction. Their private fireside chat by Lake Geneva not only clarified intentions but also created a personal connection. Gorbachev later wrote that at Geneva the “human factor had come into operation,” signalling that the two men had forged a degree of mutual understanding and trust. No major deal was signed at Geneva, but the leaders did jointly declare that “a nuclear war cannot be won and must never be fought.” Geneva ’85 showed how genuine personal chemistry can foster trust, reduce nuclear risks, and lay a foundation for future breakthroughs.

Camp David 1978 – Carter’s Mediation: Enemies to Peace Partners

One of the most striking summit successes came not from superpower rivals, but from US mediation between two sworn enemies. In September 1978, President Jimmy Carter invited Egyptian President Anwar Sadat and Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin to the secluded Camp David retreat for 13 days of negotiations. Decades of bitter conflict and four wars lay between Egypt and Israel. Carter soon found direct meetings too volatile, and by day three, he physically separated Sadat and Begin, shuttling between their cabins with proposals for the next ten days. By painstaking shuttle diplomacy, Carter gradually built relational empathy between the two foes – getting each to understand the other’s core concerns and feel heard. He gained both men’s trust by respecting their identities and needs. The Camp David Accords were signed after nearly two weeks of U.S.-mediated bargaining – a feat many deemed impossible. Carter’s hands-on mediation is widely credited for this outcome (“no Carter, no peace treaty,” as participants said). The Camp David summit exemplifies how a skilled third party using empathy and relentless shuttle diplomacy can transform enemies into partners. The result was a landmark peace agreement that has endured for 45 years.

In reality, genuine trust-building is far harder than creating a moment of personal warmth. An autocrat’s flattery may lull a leader into complacency, but unless the other side comes away truly convinced of your sincere intentions, that warmth will not yield lasting trust.

Professor Nicholas Wheeler, Birmingham & Professor Marcus Homes, William & Mary

Geneva 2021 – Biden & Putin: Clarity Without Restraint

Joe Biden’s June 2021 meeting with Vladimir Putin in Geneva came amid a worsening US–Russia conflict – especially after Russia’s 2014 annexation of Crimea and military intervention in eastern Ukraine. Biden and Putin emerged from Geneva with a measured Joint Statement and launched a new “Strategic Stability Dialogue.” At the time, the authors suggested that Reagan and Gorbachev’s summitry might “offer a script” for Biden and Putin - a face-to-face meeting providing the opportunity to clarify intentions and begin a process of trust-building. Yet the hoped-for reassurance did not last. Less than a year later, Putin launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine. How far Putin took Biden’s measure at Geneva and found it wanting as Khrushchev did at Vienna is open to debate, but Geneva 2021 is a stark reminder that summits can embolden an opponent with revisionist intent if they sense weakness and not strength.

The Alaska Risk

Trump has long professed great confidence in his ability to strike deals one-on-one with adversaries. At the 2018 Singapore summit with North Korea’s Kim Jong-un, he declared, “I think he trusts me, and I trust him.” In reality, genuine trust-building is far harder than creating a moment of personal warmth. An autocrat’s flattery may lull a leader into complacency, but unless the other side comes away truly convinced of your sincere intentions, that warmth will not yield lasting trust. In Kim’s case, Trump’s trust was likely misplaced – North Korea offered up little beyond pleasant words, and its strategic nuclear arsenal has continued to grow. Before the last Trump–Putin summit (Helsinki 2018), many warned that Trump might walk away believing he’d forged a bond, only for Putin to “fake” the chemistry and exploit Trump’s trust for strategic gain. That risk remains very real now.

At the same time, face-to-face meetings do offer opportunities to build trust – or at least to convey intentions more credibly than any phone call or video conference. In-person interaction allows leaders to read body language, signal candour, and detect bluffs in ways that sterile teleconferences cannot. Research in social neuroscience and microsociology shows that in-person exchanges can trigger empathy and help reduce the reciprocal fear and suspicion at the core of the “security dilemma,” where each side’s defensive measures are read as threatening by the other. A leader’s recognition of the other side’s fears – and crucially their role in generating those fears - what scholars call “security dilemma sensibility” – can reassure an adversary without sacrificing one’s own security. A summit, in short, is a prime venue for “reassurance diplomacy” – the art of signalling defensive intent to an adversary to defuse their fears. This can prevent miscalculation and open space for cooperation even amid rivalry.

Trump and Putin should not be meeting face-to-face like this – not without Ukraine in the room. History’s lesson is that durable peace deals aren’t struck over the heads of the most affected parties; they are struck with them.

Professor Nicholas Wheeler, Birmingham & Professor Marcus Homes, William & Mary

However, in-person summits also carry hazards, especially if handled unwisely. Trump’s improvisational style and his preference for meeting alone with only interpreters raise concerns about accountability and leverage. Without note-takers or advisors in the room, there is no official record of promises made or topics broached, and this time, entire countries are being left out. Key European NATO allies – critical to any credible security guarantees for Ukraine – have essentially been excluded from the Alaska talks. Most worryingly, Ukraine itself has no seat at the table. Zelenskyy is not invited on Friday, prompting deeply held fears of a “Yalta 2.0” or another Munich, in which a smaller nation’s fate is decided over its head by great powers. As NATO’s new Secretary-General Mark Rutte cautioned, any outcome “must acknowledge that Ukraine decides its own future.” In other words, a peace deal cannot be imposed on Kyiv without its consent and be expected to hold.

The Camp David Model – A Better Path Forward

Which historical parallel will prevail in Alaska? We will have to wait and see, but the truth is that this upcoming meeting may break the old playbook entirely – and not necessarily for the better. Trump and Putin should not be meeting face-to-face like this – not without Ukraine in the room. History’s lesson is that durable peace deals aren’t struck over the heads of the most affected parties; they are struck with them. We have a US president engaging an adversary to negotiate an end to an ongoing war over the heads of US allies and, most critically, without the nation that was invaded present. If Trump secures a temporary halt to the fighting, it might be hailed by some as unconventional diplomacy, but if he concedes too much, or if Putin simply uses the meeting to buy time and legitimise his gains, it could critically weaken European security. And if Alaska ends up echoing the dynamics of Vienna 1961 or Geneva 2021, the real test may come not immediately afterwards, but in the dangerous crises set in motion by a failed summit.

But the mark of real diplomatic leadership is to explore the opportunities for common ground between enemies, perhaps even the development of trust between them as each comes to empathise with their adversary. Trump’s moment of truth in Alaska will be whether he recognizes this difference.

Professor Nicholas Wheeler, Birmingham & Professor Marcus Homes, William & Mary

There is an alternative. Trump could show true leadership by pursuing a Camp David–style strategy for Ukraine. That would mean bringing Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelenskyy directly into the negotiations and possibly including other involved allies in a secure, focused setting. The 1978 Camp David summit succeeded because all parties to the conflict were at the table (even if in separate rooms) and a trusted mediator worked tirelessly to bridge their differences. Is this ambitious? Absolutely. It is harder and slower, but anything less, such as a rushed bilateral deal between Trump and Putin alone, risks being either an empty photo-op or a dangerously naive gamble.

If President Trump wants to make history and truly “end the war,” he shouldn’t try to cut a separate deal with Putin behind Zelenskyy’s back. This is to search for a quick personal win. But the mark of real diplomatic leadership is to explore the opportunities for common ground between enemies, perhaps even the development of trust between them as each comes to empathise with their adversary. Trump’s moment of truth in Alaska will be whether he recognises this difference.

Notes for editors

Dr Marcus Holmes is Professor and Chair of Government at William & Mary.

Nicholas Wheeler is Professor of International Relations in the Department of Political Science and International Studies at the University of Birmingham and Non-Resident Senior Fellow at BASIC (The British-American Security Information Council).