The Great Ukrainian Yard Sale

The fine print on US support always comes with an asterisk

The idea of trading rare earth minerals for security guarantees didn’t come from Trump—it was Zelensky’s gambit. Now, legacy media conveniently pretends to forget that. Knowing Trump was pulling back from the war, Zelensky played what he thought was a clever card, offering up Ukraine’s natural resources as bait to keep the US engaged. He also knew that the known deposits under his control weren’t enough to entice Washington truly, but just putting the offer on the table made it harder for Trump to walk away completely.

The problem? The Americans saw right through it. Instead of biting on Zelensky’s vague proposal, they countered with something far more concrete—targeting Ukraine’s real assets: pipelines, ports, nuclear power, and key infrastructure. In other words, they turned Zelensky’s symbolic gesture into a full-scale economic takeover. Now, Ukraine is stuck in a lose-lose situation. Whether they accept or reject the deal, the US has already played its hand, and the outcome changes little for Washington.

Ukraine is marching straight into another cycle of fragmentation and colonization—something it has experienced time and again. The country’s deep east-west divide, both culturally and ideologically, was never truly resolved, only papered over. Now, history is repeating itself. Whether it’s under Russian influence, Western economic control, or some hybrid of both, Ukraine keeps stepping on the same rake, expecting a different result. The outcome? The same as before—foreign powers carving it up while Ukrainians pay the price.

By offering up a massive portion of Ukraine’s wealth in exchange for protection, Zelensky has effectively commodified the very concept of sovereignty—reducing national independence to a transaction. The technical term for such an arrangement? Tribute.

Historically, weaker states paid tribute to more powerful ones in exchange for security, autonomy, or simply to avoid conquest. Whether it was the Roman client states, medieval vassals, or Cold War-era satellite nations, the dynamic remains the same: sovereignty becomes conditional, and survival depends on appeasing a dominant power.

Zelensky’s gamble isn’t new—it’s just dressed up in modern diplomatic language. But in practical terms, Ukraine is offering itself as an economic vassal to the US, hoping that financial entanglement will translate into strategic commitment. But there is a problem. Unlike traditional imperial arrangements, Washington has no real obligation to uphold its end of the bargain.

If the deal goes through, Ukraine won’t be a sovereign state in any meaningful sense. It will be a resource-rich outpost governed by foreign interests, subject to the whims of Washington’s shifting priorities and the seesaw nature of America's domestic politics. If Ukraine refuses, it risks being left to fend for itself against Russia. Either way, Ukraine’s fate is slipping further out of its own hands.

Zelensky has spent years preaching about sovereignty and territorial integrity—only to put both on the auction block. Ukraine will sign the deal because it has no real alternative, but Zelensky needs to stage a performance of tough negotiations to avoid being strung up back home. The rhetoric of resistance is just theater at this point. In reality, Ukraine isn’t bargaining; it’s just shopping for the least humiliating way to sell itself off.

For the first time in decades, US foreign policy actually appears calculated rather than a string of knee-jerk reactions. Washington is methodically tightening the screws on Ukraine, forcing a concession so massive that it will not only recoup its half-trillion-dollar investment in the war but likely rake in hundreds of billions more in the years to come.

At the same time, the US is nudging Ukraine and its allies to ease up on their usual Russia-bashing at the UN—because too much noise risks drawing attention to America’s own colonial ambitions in Ukraine. And just in case all else fails, Washington is laying the groundwork to pull out of the UN entirely, drafting legislation that would reduce the premiere international organization to little more than an empty building at 405 East 42nd Street.

In short, the US is playing the long game, turning Ukraine from a war-torn liability into a lucrative asset while quietly dismantling any institutions that might get in the way.

And what if the plan fails? The critics ask. Simple—the US walks away. Washington isn’t in this to spend money; it’s in it to make money. Failure is always an option, but in this case, it’s an inexpensive one.

When—because it’s not if—Ukrainians eventually revolt against their new economic overlords, the Americans will shrug, pack up, and move on to the next geopolitical hustle. No sunk costs, no obligation to clean up the wreckage. Meanwhile, Russia will once again be left with a destabilized, broken neighbor—a smoldering mess right on its doorstep.

For the US, it’s a win-win. If the deal sticks, Washington profits. If it falls apart, it walks away unscathed, leaving Moscow to deal with yet another failed state in its backyard. Classic playbook.