Jackets, meetings and Putin’s ‘no’s’ to Witkoff and Kushner on live TV

As if he were an athlete or attending a meeting between sports organisations, Kirill Dmitriev, the Kremlin’s figurehead negotiator, went to welcome Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner on their arrival in Moscow, wearing a white down jacket with the word ‘Russia’ in red and decorative motifs inspired by the Firebird. The jacket is by the Bosco brand, the same one that supplies uniforms to Russian athletes. Witkoff and Kushner, emissaries of U.S. President Donald Trump, were arriving from Abu Dhabi, where they had taken part in talks alongside Ukrainian and Russian delegations. Witkoff, stepping off the plane in a coat ill-suited to Moscow’s slushy snow, remarked on Dmitriev’s jacket; Dmitriev was waiting for him on the tarmac next to Kushner, who was not wearing a jacket. The Kremlin envoy was not dressed formally, and the relaxed rapport between the three is evident even in this detail: he went to meet them in a relaxed manner, dressed casually, as one might go to collect a friend from the airport, rather than an American delegation. These are small details of a routine that has developed over the past year and a half, amidst meetings, dinners and luxuries. Previously it was just Witkoff and Dmitriev; now the trio appear before the Kremlin leader, with whom the Americans spoke for two and a half hours yesterday. Witkoff and Kushner had a specific mission: to urge Putin to add a seat for the European Union at the negotiating table. 

The Kremlin leader knows how to say ‘no’ without needing to say ‘net’. As is often the case when Americans visit the Kremlin, much of the meeting was broadcast on television. For the Russians, Witkoff and Kushner’s appearance is a spectacle; it must be shown and displayed because it is proof that this Administration behaves with haughtiness when meeting Putin. The Kremlin has long since begun broadcasting meetings on television that are usually held behind closed doors; it did so even the day before invading the whole of Ukraine, when a security meeting was held with the cameras rolling whilst, in Putin’s presence, the heads of the security agencies and the military decided whether or not to recognise the self-proclaimed separatist republics of Donetsk and Luhansk. Moscow had already decided to do so, but it exposed the farce of the decision-making process to the Russian people and the world. It created expectations. The meetings with the Americans serve a similar purpose: Moscow already knows what it will tell Trump’s envoys; it knows in advance what to emphasise and what its non-negotiable positions are, but it broadcasts the meetings – or parts of them – on television to give the Russian people and the world the illusion that they are part of the decision-making process and that everything is still unfolding.

In front of the cameras, whilst emissaries, mediators and interpreters were already seated around the table, Putin told a joke intended to explain to Witkoff and Kushner just how complicated and unproductive the dialogue between Europeans and Russians on Ukraine is: “Let’s suppose that a swindler who has built a house on the outskirts of Kyiv is summoned by investigators who want to know where he got the money from. The swindler replies that he took it from his bedside table, and the investigators then want to know how so much money ended up in the bedside table. The swindler replies: ‘My wife put it there.’ The investigators then ask where his wife got so much money from. ‘I gave it to her,’ replies the swindler. ‘And where did you get it from, then?’ ask the investigators. ‘From the bedside table!’” Finally, Putin explains the moral of the story to the Americans: “It’s a vicious circle; the same thing happens to us with the Europeans.” Putin did not say “no”; to reject the idea of bringing Kyiv’s allies to the negotiating table, he brought up corruption, linked it to Kyiv and the Europeans, and cast the Russians in the role of investigators and those in charge. Kushner and Witkoff discuss the possibility of a new security architecture in Europe, while Putin reiterates that he wishes to discuss it only with Trump and that the Europeans must remain outside the door.

The Kremlin has rejected every proposal regarding Ukraine’s security – and therefore peace: no to the presence of foreign troops on Ukrainian territory, as they “threaten Russia’s national security and constitute a legitimate target”; no to a buffer zone or “grey zones” – the war must end with a Russian border immediately adjacent to the Ukrainian one. The Kremlin leader then proposed a humanitarian truce in Konstantynivka, modelled on the one that took place in Oleshky at the end of October, along with the clearance of mines in the area to make it possible, and promised to invite Russian, Ukrainian and American journalists to cover the evacuations. Moscow claims to have taken Konstantynivka, whilst the Ukrainians deny this. According to maps tracking the invasion, the town remains in the hands of the Kyiv Armed Forces, despite the fighting. Kushner and Witkoff supported the idea of a truce; Putin knew he could not get them to agree to it merely by confirming a major prisoner exchange as the outcome – he had to offer them something else: a new Oleshky, but under Ukrainian control. One of Volodymyr Zelensky’s advisers pointed out that during the humanitarian operations in Oleshky, Moscow had moved military equipment and troops: “It is clear what they want to do in Kostiantynivka. However, all the details need to be clarified,” said Dmytro Lytvyn.

After leaving Moscow, the Americans proceeded to meet Zelensky, who was awaiting them in Dublin, under the impression that they were bearing evidence of Putin’s generosity, whereas in reality they were unwittingly delivering a hoax.