Knowing when to shut up
The most effective vice presidents — whether Dick Cheney in the Bush years or even Mike Pence in Trump’s first term — wielded influence behind closed doors, not through public grandstanding.
Daily TribuneThe most effective vice presidents — whether Dick Cheney in the Bush years or even Mike Pence in Trump’s first term — wielded influence behind closed doors, not through public grandstanding.
Ever the consummate showman, United States President Donald Trump brushed off his Oval Office meltdown with his Ukrainian counterpart Volodymyr Zelensky, quipping that it would “make for great television.” But for all the theatrics, the meeting wasn’t doomed from the start.
In fact, Trump and Zelensky initially walked a tightrope together. A transactional dealmaker to his critics, Trump postured as a peacemaker, touting a minerals deal as part of his grand strategy to end Ukraine’s war with Russia. Zelensky? Fighting for his nation’s survival, he pressed for stronger US security guarantees beyond just economic cooperation.
Despite their differences, the two leaders engaged in a calculated dance of diplomacy, mixing optics with substance. This delicate balance was already precarious, given Trump’s history of tying US aid to Ukraine to domestic political goals — a pattern that has eroded trust and left Zelensky wary of American commitments.
Then, Trump’s right-hand man, JD Vance, opened his mouth.
Sitting opposite the Ukrainian president, the vice president wore a menacing scowl throughout the meeting, as if spoiling for a fight. Then, unable to contain himself, he jumped in — schooling Zelensky on gratitude, as though the Ukrainian leader wasn’t in the midst of a war against one of the world’s most powerful militaries.
It was the kind of smug interjection that played well with the “America First” crowd but was a diplomatic catastrophe. Vance’s interruption did what even the most antagonistic journalists in the room failed to do; it pushed Trump into an unnecessary confrontation.
But here’s the thing — while Vance certainly fanned the flames, let’s not pretend Trump needed much encouragement to lose his cool. His track record suggests that if it hadn’t been Vance setting him off, it could have been a reporter’s question, an ill-timed smirk from Zelensky, or simply the idea of someone else having control over the narrative.
Instead of continuing the delicate back-and-forth, Trump snapped, warning Zelensky that he had to accept a deal with Russia or risk abandonment. What had been a tense but productive discussion unraveled into open hostility, with Trump storming away from negotiations.
This breakdown was emblematic of Trump’s broader foreign policy approach: a focus on short-term wins and personal deals over long-term alliances, leaving allies like Ukraine uncertain of America’s reliability. And Vance? He just accelerated the inevitable.
Before Vance decided to “advance” (pun intended) his own agenda, Trump and Zelensky had at least managed a working dialogue. The minerals deal, while not a security guarantee, was a starting point for further engagement.
Zelensky was firm but pragmatic, making his case without overt defiance. In a later interview, Zelensky all but dismissed Vance’s intervention, subtly reducing him to a kibitzer. The fundamental problem with Vance’s performance is that it betrayed a rookie misunderstanding of his role. The most effective vice presidents — whether Dick Cheney in the Bush years or even Mike Pence in Trump’s first term — wielded influence behind closed doors, not through public grandstanding.
And while Vance clearly has his eyes set on 2028, he seems to be treating foreign policy as just another campaign rally. This approach risks alienating allies, emboldening adversaries, and making future US diplomacy an even tougher sell.
But here’s the kicker: Trump understands the need to project strength while keeping options open. He wanted to leave that meeting looking like the master dealmaker, not an aggressor. Instead, his vice president’s antics robbed him of that opportunity, making him look petulant rather than powerful.
More than anything, this moment underscored a problem not just for Vance, but for Trump himself: a second Trump presidency will be as much about managing the people around him as it is about managing global affairs. If he surrounds himself with over-eager, self-promoting acolytes like Vance, who prioritize personal branding over smart diplomacy, America’s allies will take note — and adversaries will take advantage.
If Vance truly sees himself as Trump’s successor, he might want to learn the first rule of power: sometimes, the smartest move is knowing when to keep your mouth shut.