With Donald Trump’s reelection roiling capitals across Europe and Asia, in Ukraine, where many expect the new administration to make the most dramatic changes to U.S. policy, the mood is mixed, at once anxious and surprisingly hopeful.
“No one is committing suicide,” Anton Grushetskyi, executive director of the Kyiv International Institute of Sociology, a leading polling firm, told me in an interview. “For Ukrainians, this is an existential war. Russia wants to eliminate us and destroy our country, and we can’t just give up.” But as the fighting grinds on, with no victory in sight, many are considering a different approach.
President Volodymyr Zelensky’s “victory plan,” presented to Trump earlier this fall, includes several planks designed to appeal to what is expected to be the new administration’s transactional approach to foreign policy. And many voices, on social media and in parliament, are emphasizing what Kyiv should do in the months ahead to strengthen its hand in anticipation of a Trump presidency.
“Ukraine needs to show what it can offer the United States,” member of parliament Oleksiy Goncharenko noted in an email to me. “We have vast national resources. We have a strong army with unparalleled combat experience and a huge country that can feed almost half the world. Ukraine has to work around the clock to promote these messages.”
The election came at a difficult time for Ukrainians. The war is not going well. Russian forces backed by more ample resources—more abundant weapons and manpower—are on the verge of breaking through at several strategic points along the front line.
Ukrainian troops, many of whom have been fighting without a break for more than two years, are tired, and their ranks are badly depleted. Efforts launched this summer to reinforce them with fresh units are petering out amid widespread reluctance to fight. Nightly air alerts threaten Kyiv and other cities, and a cold winter looms as authorities struggle to repair an electric grid badly damaged by months of Russian missile strikes.
Against this dark background, Ukrainians followed closely as the American presidential campaign unfolded. Trump’s admiration for Vladimir Putin and his repeated promises to end the war were widely covered in the press and social media, and much of the public seemed to be rooting for a Kamala Harris victory.
But now that the outcome is clear, Ukrainians are adjusting. As they surprised the world in 2022, finding creative ways to fight off what many expected to be a quick Russian victory, so again today, they are adapting to the circumstances.
Many Ukrainians Are Ready To Gamble On A Bolder Trump Approach
The first hints of a new public mood appeared on election day in social media. The popular Telegram channel hosted by political activist Serhii Sternenko
asked its followers who they would vote for, and 720 replied. Opinion ran mildly in favor of Kamala Harris. Trump “frankly does not like Ukraine,” someone who identified herself as Eva noted. And many subscribers named candidates not on the ballot, including Ronald Reagan and John McCain. But there was also a notable swelling of support for Donald Trump.
“Nothing will change with Harris,” wrote a Telegram user who goes by Oleh, opting for the GOP ticket. Someone going by the name of Bakhmut agreed: “I no longer trust the Democrats or the USA in general,” he argued. “The help they provided was enough to deter Russia, but they never wanted us to win.” Although not thrilled about either candidate, he and several dozen other respondents came down in favor of Trump.
Attitudes continued to shift in the days after the election. Social media was full of caustic humor, but many comments were more reflective. “We have to accept the choice of the American people,” one Ukrainian army
veteran urged on Facebook, “and find ways to engage with the new administration.”
Politicians and political activists also began to sound cautiously hopeful. Ukrainians are frustrated by the current administration’s “self-deterrence and its consistent deference to red lines set by Russia,” anti-corruption reformer Olena Tregub
told a blogger. “And many think that Trump’s personality may lead to a more resolute approach.” “What do the results mean for us?” member of parliament Oleksiy Goncharenko
asked on Telegram, “There are great risks, but also great hopes. We have to find our way through.”
Kyiv International Institute of Sociology pollster Anton Grushetskyi does not work for the government and does not speak for it. But he has more than a decade of experience monitoring Ukrainian public opinion, focusing heavily in the last three years on attitudes toward the war and how to end it. A full “94% of Ukrainians hate Russia, and 80 percent hate ordinary Russians,” he explained last week, citing a
survey conducted in May. Nearly two-thirds—63%—are willing to
endure the war “as long as is needed.” And most Ukrainians—56%—remain opposed to ceding any Ukrainian territory to Russia. But that number is slowly dwindling.
According to a new poll released this week, 32%—up from 8 to 10% through 2022—are now willing to consider trading some land for peace.
“There’s no enthusiasm for territorial concessions,” Grushetskyi cautioned. And no one will agree to permanent Russian control of Crimea or the eastern Donbas region. But he believes many Ukrainians, who feared that a Harris administration would be as hesitant and retrained as Biden, are open to what he called “a more decisive approach.”
Some Hope Trump Will Provide Weapons And Jets To Keep The Peace
“Ukrainians are increasingly ready to compromise,” Grushetskyi argues. “They are willing to accept even painful concessions—as long as the deal comes security guarantees.”
Just what those guarantees should look like is likely to be the subject of fierce negotiations. Kyiv Institute surveys have traditionally asked about NATO membership and found few respondents willing to make concessions unless Ukraine was admitted to the alliance. But Grushetskyi maintains that these attitudes too are softening.
“It could be something else,” he explained, “not NATO, but something similar that provided for the defense of Ukraine. If Ukrainians feel they are safe, that the front line is frozen, that there will be ample financing to rebuild and prospects for membership in the European Union, that could be enough for the moment to postpone the liberation of some occupied territories.”
Indeed, in Grushetskyi’s view, Ukrainians might be more enthusiastic about concrete guarantees—ample supplies of Western weaponry and European troops stationed in Ukraine to help keep the peace—than an uncertain promise of NATO membership. “We’d rather have the weapons,” he says, “F-16 fighter jets, Patriot air defenses, ATACMS ballistic missiles and tanks. And it has to be a meaningful supply, not the meager flow that Biden provided.”
Not everyone in Ukraine is talking—or talking openly—about concessions. Active-duty soldiers, often among those most opposed to trading land for peace, are not included in national polling. No surveys suggest that a majority of the public is in favor of a deal—even without counting soldiers, it’s still a minority opinion. And Zelensky’s victory plan focuses exclusively on NATO, with no discussion of alternative security guarantees.
The unspoken question on everyone’s mind: what kind of leverage does Trump have over Putin, and will he use it to advance a deal that takes account of Ukrainian interests? Nothing the dictator has said since the election suggests a change of course—he is still determined to dismember and subjugate Ukraine. The fighting rages on. Peace talks could go horribly wrong. But many Ukrainians, tired of war and frustrated with the Biden approach, are ready to rethink their options.
