For anyone still baffled as to how a supposedly American peace proposal for Ukraine ended up looking as if it had been drafted during a lunch break at the Kremlin, the answer now appears painfully, comically clear. It was. The culprit is Steve Witkoff: Donald Trump’s envoy, a property mogul with the diplomatic instincts of a malfunctioning sat-nav, and apparently the newest unwitting ornament in Vladimir Putin’s collection of useful idiots.
Bloomberg’s reporting on Witkoff’s cosy chats with Yuri Ushakov—Putin’s adviser and part-time puppeteer—reads like political satire written by someone who has given up on subtlety. In one phone call, Witkoff reportedly tipped off the Kremlin that President Zelenskyy would be visiting the White House, then suggested Putin give Trump a ring beforehand. One imagines the scene: Witkoff lounging back, as though arranging a surprise party rather than lining up world leaders like contestants on a mildly disappointing game show.
He then assured Ushakov that Trump gives him “a lot of space and discretion to get to the deal”. This from an administration in which “space” means whatever isn’t already filled with drama, and “discretion” is typically found only in the lost property box. Trusting Witkoff with international diplomacy is like trusting a Roomba to perform heart surgery: earnest effort, catastrophic outcome, and a lingering sense that someone should have intervened sooner.
Things spiralled when Witkoff proudly floated Trump’s 20-point Gaza plan—remembered mainly for being inexplicable—and suggested copying it for Russia. Before long, he was drafting the Ukraine peace proposal with his Russian counterparts, while Washington pressured Kyiv to accept it. One is tempted to ask whether he mistook Putin for a contractor and assumed he was merely helping with the paperwork.
The picture painted is unmistakable: Witkoff delivering an Oscar-worthy performance as a “useful idiot”, complete with the earnest enthusiasm of a man who thinks espionage is something you file in the stationery cupboard.
Now, in any other government, such behaviour would trigger investigations, urgent meetings, and possibly a polite but firm request for the individual to spend the rest of their days far from anything flammable. In Trumpworld, however, this is simply a warm-up act. Rather than being benched for geopolitical incompetence, Witkoff is being sent back to Moscow—presumably with a packed lunch and a note attached: “Please return in one piece.”
And looming over this entire circus is Vladimir Putin, who seems to have Donald Trump not merely wrapped around his little finger but firmly held by the short and curlies—giving them the occasional strategic tug, just to see what fresh policy drops out.
The result? A peace plan no one asked for, a diplomatic scandal that doesn’t count as one, and an American envoy whose interactions leave the unsettling impression that the real power dynamic is not Trump stroking his ego in the mirror, but Putin stroking something far more sensitive—while the administration dances obligingly to the rhythm.
