From Proxy to Protectorate: The Privatized Collapse of Ukraine

As Ukraine shifts from a Western-backed war project to a privatized zone of extraction and containment, the human and political costs are spiraling out of control.

What began with a phone call may go down as the moment the war took a darker turn.

On May 19, U.S. President Donald Trump and Russian President Vladimir Putin spoke by phone for just over two hours. According to both sides, the discussion centered on a possible ceasefire and restarting formal negotiations — a diplomatic gesture widely seen as a test of whether the war was entering a de-escalation phase.

But less than 24 hours later, the opposite happened.

Shortly after the call with Trump, Putin made his first public remarks. Though measured, his message was unambiguous.

This was not a gesture toward compromise. It was a reaffirmation of Russia’s long-term war aims: not just battlefield dominance, but the restructuring of Ukraine’s political and military alignment. And the tension only escalated from there.

Following the call, Putin made an unannounced visit to Russia’s Kursk region, near the Ukrainian border. It was his first known trip to the area since Russian forces repelled Ukrainian cross-border raids earlier in the year. State media portrayed the trip as a show of confidence but the underlying tone was far more serious.

While still in Kursk, Putin met with local officials, military leaders, and volunteers, offering praise for their “resilience” and warning of continued provocations from Kiev. During one public appearance, his language shifted sharply. Putin mocked the Ukrainian leadership as “idiots.”

But the real turning point came just hours later.

On May 20, as Putin departed Kursk by helicopter, Ukrainian drones launched a large-scale attack across the region. A senior Russian air defense commander later revealed that Putin’s helicopter was at the “epicenter” of the assault, calling it an “unprecedented” moment. Russian forces were forced to scramble air defenses to intercept dozens of drones mid-flight.

It was the first confirmed instance of Putin flying through an active combat zone since the war began. That alone marked a dangerous turn, but the response would make it even clearer that Russia now viewed the drone strike as personal.

Putin’s helicopter in Grozny, Chechnya August 20, 2024.

This was not just another battlefield provocation, it was a deliberate attempt to assassinate the Russian president.

Moscow’s response was immediate… and overwhelming.

That night, Moscow initiated its largest aerial attack of the war to date. According to Ukraine’s Air Force, Russia launched more than 350 Iranian-designed Shahed drones and at least nine ballistic missiles, many of which evaded Ukraine’s already strained defenses.

After Russia’s strikes on Kiev, Khmelnytsky, Nikolaev, and Zhitomir, Trump addressed the media directly. His tone was emotional, but his awareness was incomplete.

When pressed about the strike on Putin’s helicopter, the very incident that triggered the Russian retaliation, Trump admitted he hadn’t been told.

He didn’t deny it. He didn’t condemn it. He simply didn’t know. His response then pivoted to vague remarks about both sides needing to step back, revealing a deeper issue:

The President of the United States had not been briefed on one of the most dangerous escalations of the war, a near-assassination of a nuclear-armed leader during peace talks.

Whether due to disorganization, deliberate filtering, or gatekeeping by figures like Steve Witkoff, the implications are stark: Trump may not be in control of the information flow — or of the war effort itself.

Trump later took to Truth Social, blasting Putin as “absolutely CRAZY” and accusing him of trying to take “ALL of Ukraine.”

But by then, the narrative had already flipped. Russia was responding to a provocation. And Trump — despite his title — looked like a spectator, not a commander.

But for many in Moscow, Trump’s words rang hollow. After all, Ukraine struck first — and not just militarily, but symbolically. It attempted to kill the President of the Russian Federation. Whether sanctioned directly or not, the implication is clear: Ukraine is no longer acting like a sovereign defender, it is operating like a Western-armed strike platform.

Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov called Trump’s remarks “emotional,” while thanking him for his diplomatic engagement. But behind the diplomatic platitudes, the message from Moscow was unmistakable: the rules of engagement have changed.

The U.S.-brokered 30-day ceasefire proposal now appears dead. Ukraine accepted it. Russia refused, citing Ukrainian refusal to discuss disarmament or NATO neutrality. The only concrete outcome of recent diplomacy was a 1,000-person prisoner exchange, completed the same day as the Russian strikes.

So far, Western media has downplayed Ukraine’s role in reigniting the conflict. But facts on the ground, including the attempted strike on Putin’s helicopter, make it clear: this escalation was initiated by Kiev, not Moscow.

And the response may only be beginning.

On social media, former Russian President and Security Council Deputy Chairman Dmitry Medvedev posted a chilling video montage, suggesting that if Western military aid continues, the consequences will be permanent and territorial. He stated on his telegram, “If military aid to the Banderite regime continues, the buffer zone could look like this:”

But facts on the ground — including the attempted strike on Putin’s helicopter — make it clear: this escalation was initiated by Kiev, not Moscow.

And from Moscow’s perspective, it was never the aggressor to begin with.

In a televised forum shortly after the events, President Putin laid out what he described as the unavoidable logic of escalation, portraying Russia not as a conqueror, but as a country pushed to the wall:

The implication was unmistakable: Russia may not stop at holding territory. It may expand it. And what’s emerging now is not just an intensification of war, but a transformation of it. Ukraine is no longer in charge of its war machine.That machine is being outsourced — to drones, to defense contractors, to U.S. and NATO-aligned networks. And the result is a battlefield where sovereignty matters less than sponsorship.

And what’s emerging now is not just an intensification of war, but a transformation of it. Ukraine is no longer in charge of its war machine. That machine is being outsourced, to drones, to defense contractors, to U.S. and NATO-aligned networks. And the result is a battlefield where sovereignty matters less than sponsorship.