How Europeans are countering the efforts of Trump, Musk and Hegseth to leave Ukraine in the dark

‘I have taken on the task of “rebuilding bridges” between Ukraine and the United States,’ British Prime Minister Andy Burnham told the House of Commons yesterday, a few hours before welcoming Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky to Downing Street on one of the most terrible days for Kyiv and Europe since the start of Donald Trump’s second term. After striking a deal on diesel with Vladimir Putin, the US President decided to impose restrictions on the sharing of intelligence with the Ukrainians, and the deadly effect of this decision was immediately apparent: the United States has a virtually unique capability to monitor the launch of Russian missiles, and without this warning, Kyiv was once again ravaged yesterday by a brutal bombardment from Moscow. The impact was also felt on the front line, where the Ukrainians are on the offensive.

Terminals belonging to Starlink, a company owned by Elon Musk, used by Ukrainian units operating drones on the front line, have been subject to restrictions regarding medium- and long-range attacks on Russian targets without prior warning, “just like that, in the middle of the night”, a source told the Financial Times. In particular, the restrictions affect Starlink’s military package, known as Starshield, which is managed by the US Pentagon under the leadership of Pete Hegseth. Neither Starlink nor the Pentagon has issued any official comment, but the evidence is unequivocal: Musk commented on Trump’s remarks against Zelenskyy, saying that the Ukrainian president “had gone too far”, thereby confirming the pressure and hostility from Washington; Hegseth shifted the blame for his mistakes in managing the US arsenal in Iran onto Ukraine, repeating a falsehood on several occasions – namely, that because of aid to Kyiv, America found itself defenceless in the Gulf – citing Tomahawk missiles which, unfortunately, were never actually supplied to Ukraine (the head of the world’s largest Ministry of Defence should, if anything, explain how it is possible for a superpower to be left without weapons after six months of war). Ukraine is paying the price for all the American mistakes in Iran, even though it had already offered Trump its assistance last year to develop the technology needed for modern warfare, and subsequently offered the same to the Persian Gulf states targeted by Iranian drones. Even the energy truce that the U.S. president concocted – which Ukraine has, in any case, respected whilst Russia has not – and the agreement with Putin on diesel are intended to repair the supply chains disrupted by the war against Iran: Trump decided to thwart Ukrainian attacks on Russian refineries – which are Kyiv’s means of dismantling Putin’s war economy – in an attempt to drive down the price of diesel. He did not succeed, but in the process he has tied the hands of Ukraine’s existential defence.

Zelensky’s European allies are attempting, on the one hand, to mend Ukraine’s ties with the Americans and, on the other, to compensate for Trump’s withdrawal – not only from financial aid and military aid, but now also from the sharing of intelligence data. As regards warnings of Russian missile attacks, there is little that can be done to compensate for the moment: on this front, the United States is practically the sole source of information. This is also why John Ratcliffe, the CIA director who keeps a low profile but is very active, is, according to some sources, highlighting to the White House the consequences of the lack of warnings for two consecutive nights: deaths, injuries and destruction (and Ukrainian power stations hit by the Russians). It is not known whether Ratcliffe has the ability and the power to convince Trump, but the very fact that there is someone in this position doing so leaves a glimmer of hope for a change of heart.

On the front line, however, the intelligence activities of the Europeans and Ukraine’s other allies (such as Japan) are more significant: ever since he returned to the White House, Trump has been threatening to suspend the sharing of information with Kyiv, and even though his own military, as well as the CIA, have always been opposed to this, the Europeans cannot claim they were not warned. In a public speech, French President Emmanuel Macron stated that France provides two-thirds of the intelligence at the front, but naturally, confirmation or verification of this figure is difficult to obtain. Even some British sources, as recently as yesterday, faced with the ongoing chaos in support for Kyiv, anonymously revealed that they had stepped up intelligence-sharing with the Ukrainians, particularly regarding medium-range strikes against Russian refineries – strikes that are most affected by the Starshield restrictions yet are the most effective at crippling Russia’s ability to continue the war. While Trump rages against the Ukrainian resistance, European partners know full well that the only way to stop the war is to stop Putin by making his offensive unsustainable.

Then there are the European satellite systems supplied to Ukraine, in particular those of the Finnish company Iceye, which operates a constellation of radar satellites capable of observing the Earth’s surface at night and through clouds: this technology is particularly useful for monitoring military vehicles, troop movements and infrastructure when bad weather or darkness make this difficult. Iceye has been providing images to Ukraine since 2022, but in January an agreement was signed granting the Ukrainian government access to a dedicated radar satellite and to data from the company’s entire constellation. Last May, as was revealed earlier this month, four Russian spacecraft ‘chased’ an Iceye satellite: many analysts commented on the news, saying that this pursuit was also a warning for Starlink, but it is now clearer that the price of these space operations – as with everything else – is once again being paid by the Ukrainians.