A Phone Call, a Promise, and the Electricity of Uncertainty
Late one afternoon, across a web of encrypted lines and international anxiety, two presidents spoke. The result was unexpected even to veteran diplomats: an agreement — or at least a plan — for another summit between Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump in Budapest. The announcement landed like a pebble thrown into a pond: concentric ripples of hope, scepticism, and fear spreading from Kyiv to the corridors of power in Washington and Moscow.
“We spoke for more than two hours,” Mr. Trump told the press, describing the conversation as “productive” and adding that a meeting in Hungary would follow lower-level talks next week. No firm date was set; no communiqué clasped hands across the table. Yet the prospect of leaders sitting face-to-face stilled some immediate questions and opened many more.
Tomorrow’s Oval Office, Today’s Tension
President Volodymyr Zelensky, meanwhile, was preparing to fly to Washington. He would sit across the Resolute Desk to press a simple but consequential point: Ukraine needs weapons that can change the map of threat and deterrence. In Kyiv and beyond, the strongest demand is for long-range Tomahawk cruise missiles — weapons that would, by design, put distant Russian strategic targets within reach.
“If we have long-range precision, we can recalibrate the battlefield. It’s not about hurting so much as deterring,” said a senior Ukrainian military adviser who asked not to be named for security reasons. “We need options for when the frontlines and the energy grid are under constant assault.”
What giving Tomahawks would mean
A Tomahawk’s range — roughly 1,500–1,600 kilometres in many variants — would extend Ukraine’s strike envelope into the Russian interior. That possibility is precisely what makes the missile both attractive and terrifying. Ask any diplomat or defence analyst and you’ll hear two refrains: the first is the hard reality that longer reach could compel Russia back to a negotiating table; the second is the inescapable worry about escalation.
“This is the calculus of 21st century deterrence: precision at distance,” said Professor Anna Morozov, a security studies scholar. “But with each step you take to rebalance, the adversary may feel pressured to respond asymmetrically — in cyber, in energy, or through proxies. Weapons are not just tools; they are signals.”
The Soundtrack of an Escalating War
On the ground, the war’s drumbeat has not softened. Ukrainian authorities reported a staggering overnight barrage: more than 300 drones and 37 missiles targeting energy infrastructure across the country. Cities blacked out as grid components were damaged; towns braced for another winter of frayed power lines, freezing temperatures and the hum of gas-powered generators.
“Last winter we lit candles. This year we will keep the generators running,” said Oksana, a teacher in Dnipro, standing outside a café that has become an informal refuge when the lights go out. “You adapt. You survive. But you also ask: how much more can one community take?”
Ukraine’s own forces have stepped up strikes across the border, including an attack on a refinery in Russia’s Saratov region. The symmetry of strikes and counterstrikes has hard edges: wounded infrastructure, disrupted energy markets, and populations all along the supply chain feeling the shock.
Budapest as Symbol and Stage
Why Budapest? The Hungarian capital is more than a convenient venue; it is a symbolic crossroads between East and West. For many in Europe, the city is a reminder that geography and history cannot be ignored when trying to broker peace. For others, it is an arena where domestic politics and geopolitical theatre will meet.
“Leaders know the optics matter,” said a former diplomat who worked on European security issues. “A meeting in Budapest sends a message: this is about Europe’s security architecture, not just bilateral grievances.”
Voices from the Streets and the Briefing Room
Across Kyiv, conversations are full of pragmatism and weary humor. Vendors at the Besarabka market joke about vendors of heat packs and thermal socks doing brisk business. Café owners count the nights they’ll stay open through a blackout. And yet the mood is not only grim.
“We are exhausted, yes. But we have learned to hope in peculiar ways,” said Mykola, an electrician who volunteers on nights repairing downed lines. “When leaders talk, it can feel distant. But if a summit means fewer rockets, fewer bombs, fewer children in basements — that matters.”
In Washington, the calculus is different but equally fraught. There are legal, logistical and political hurdles to approving and supplying long-range missiles to a non-NATO partner. There are also votes to win and alliances to shore up. “The United States must measure not only what weapons do for Ukraine, but how they reshape the entire theatre,” said a U.S. foreign policy adviser. “That’s the conversation the president will have with Mr. Zelensky.”
What’s at Stake Globally
This is not a local quarrel. It is an episode in a global story about norms, sovereignty, and the mechanisms of modern warfare. State-to-state negotiations about war termination are rare, and when they occur they are messy and fragile. Each side frames the tempo: one seeks talks after being pressured; the other seeks reassurances before surrendering leverage.
Consider the larger trends: the weaponization of energy and infrastructure, the proliferation of increasingly accessible drone technology, and the growing role of public diplomacy — where leaders’ every utterance is filtered in real time by social media, pundits, and international audiences. These are the contours of future conflicts, and they are visible now.
- Conflict origin: Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine began in February 2022.
- Recent attacks: Ukrainian officials reported more than 300 drones and 37 missiles used in a single barrage on infrastructure.
- Weapon in debate: Tomahawk cruise missiles have a range of roughly 1,500–1,600 km and could reach deep into Russian territory.
Questions to Carry Home
Will a summit in Budapest bring a real ceasefire or simply another set of preconditions? Can weapons extend the bargaining table without widening the war? And for ordinary people living under these headlines: what is the calculus of hope?
These questions have no tidy answers. They require patience, humility and, above all, accountability. Leaders can promise dialogues; communities can prepare for winters. But the daily toll — of families displaced, of cities without light, of economies buckling — must remain at the center of the global conversation.
As you read this, imagine an ordinary evening somewhere on the map where the lights flicker off and a family gathers around a small stove. Imagine a diplomat studying a map of missile ranges with a furrowed brow, and a leader deciding whether to send instruments of deterrence or extend a hand across a table. Which would you choose — escalation that might force a settlement, or restraint that risks prolonged suffering?
We stand at one of those uneasy hinges in history, when a phone call can open a door but not necessarily the path through it. The world will watch whether Budapest becomes a turning point, or merely another caption in the long scroll of conflict.
