Bridge through Budapest

Trump, Putin, and Orbán at Budapest’s crossroads of chaos and power

Alexander Dugin traces how Budapest emerges as the flashpoint where Trump’s unpredictability and Putin’s strategy reshape the global game.

Conversation with Alexander Dugin on the Sputnik TV program Escalation.

Host: Donald Trump, the President of the United States, will be mentioned frequently in our program today. He held a phone conversation with Vladimir Putin and met personally with Vladimir Zelensky. I’d like to ask: without comparing them directly, but rather analyzing the dynamics of these relationships — how has the situation evolved after the conversation with Putin and the meeting with the leader of the Kyiv regime? Are there fundamental differences between these interactions, or does Trump remain true only to his own style everywhere?

Alexander Dugin: When assessing Trump’s behavior in the matter of resolving our war with the West — in essence, with Trump himself on Ukrainian soil — we naturally proceed from our own perspective. Whenever Trump takes a step toward Russia, we consider it favorable. When he supports Zelensky and the Russophobic militarist policies of the European Union, we call it hostile. Yet Trump wavers — one step this way, another that way. The moment we declare him favorable, he contradicts us by promising Tomahawks, proclaiming that Ukraine can defeat us on the battlefield, demanding that China and India abandon our oil, and reinforcing the EU’s aggressive designs. As soon as we call him hostile, he summons Zelensky, publicly humiliates him, scolds him, rubs his face in the table, mocks his European protectorate, and announces with a grin that he will gladly meet his “friend Vladimir” in Alaska or Budapest. The European Union panics — Orbán and Fico appear as white ravens because of their sovereign stance. Trump then adds, “How about it, Zelensky — a tunnel between Alaska and Russian Siberia?” Zelensky is left speechless — it’s a public humiliation. We find it amusing and begin to think Trump is ours. Yet fifteen minutes later he says: “Perhaps I was joking. Maybe I’ll give the Tomahawks after all — I’ll think about it. A meeting? — unclear. The tunnel? — don’t know. India should still give up the oil.” And once again he turns hostile.

From our point of view, his essence is elusive — he is both one thing and another. This has become his norm, his way. The range of his fluctuations is broader than that of the Biden administration. Biden pursued a course of escalation — pressure on Russia, maximum support for Ukraine, military, economic, diplomatic, and media — yet within certain bounds, avoiding nuclear confrontation. Their red line was clear: never cross the limit of controlled escalation. Trump seems to have no such line. Delivering Tomahawks to Kyiv would be a harsher anti-Russian threat than anything Biden dared. That is frightening: in the anti-Russian direction Trump is willing to go further than the globalists. Yet he can just as easily tell Zelensky, “Handle the Russians yourself” — something unthinkable under Biden. His amplitude extends both ways: from him one can expect either the favorable or the catastrophically dangerous. A step toward us almost certainly will be followed by a sharp turn toward our opponents. He strives to rise above the fray, yet remains a participant in it.

Putin tries to negotiate with him; when Trump happens to be on our wavelength, he listens to historical arguments. But only partly — it’s hard for him. The historical reasoning why Ukraine belongs to us requires knowledge, dialectic, and understanding of its origins. America’s history is short — three or four milestones. Ours is long; China’s stretches back five thousand years. Trump has no interest in this; he has no time to delve into it. He acts by impulse — sometimes chasing the discredited Nobel Prize, which has become a badge of shame bestowed upon the vilest of men. He thirsts for the glory of a peacemaker yet cannot manage it. Israel endured his “peacekeeping” for fifteen minutes before bombing Gaza again. In his own eyes he remains a hero, and that drives him. Yet in substance he stands on no side. A step toward us — Budapest, the dressing-down of Zelensky, the refusal of Tomahawks — is followed by a kick from the White House. He listens to an Italian singer and then snaps at Zelensky: “Get out!” It’s a horrifying spectacle, yet humiliation is his style.

It resembles Succession, where the magnate shifts positions every second, endlessly humiliating everyone — relatives, the world, the near and far. For Trump, the entire world is his “succession.” A gesture toward us gives no grounds for illusion — expect a sudden turn. We, however, have a strategic goal: Ukraine will be ours, or it will cease to exist. Neutrality is impossible; after what it has done, hope is gone. For our interests we must establish control over it. That is our task, and we are moving toward it — if not immediately, then step by step. Trump is indifferent to that; he is driven by shallow, momentary, yet often dangerous motives. He is no ally and will not gift us Ukraine. We must liberate it ourselves, win it back, and institute governance consistent with our interests.

Whether we avoid a Third World War — nuclear or otherwise — is unknown. But Putin acts brilliantly, consistently, aiming to win in Ukraine without a suicidal nuclear apocalypse. That is our stance.

In America the picture looks different. There are three strategic forces. The first is the MAGA movement on whose shoulders Trump rose to power. Their position is close to ours: no interventions, no aid to Ukraine — it is none of their business. When Trump ends support for Zelensky, he speaks for MAGA: let them sort it out themselves. This is his core electorate, his strategy. When he deviates, they fume; when he returns, they cheer: “My president — that’s why I voted for him.” If he says, “I’ll give Tomahawks to Kyiv,” they respond: “Not my president — that’s not why I voted.” This is a powerful force. They want a Great America, not a guarantor of global democracy in the Wilson tradition. They oppose liberalism, LGBT, Soros’s Antifa, corruption, Epstein. The Democrats, the second force, support Zelensky yet remain in opposition and have no influence on Trump’s policy. The third force — neoconservatives and RINOs, the old-guard Republicans seeking global hegemony — like Kellogg and others around Trump, push him toward escalation. Between MAGA and the neocons Trump oscillates, just as in our case. His stance on Ukraine is the litmus test. MAGA opposes supporting Zelensky, yet Trump strives to appear independent — like Logan Roy in Succession.

Host: By the way, I recall reading that some of the plotlines and characters in Succession were inspired by Trump and his family, though the series was made before his presidency. Returning to his personality — from your words it’s clear that Trump has a certain strategy, that his actions and statements rest on something. Yet many in Europe, America, and Russia notice that Trump can suddenly blurt out something or act on a whim simply because he is Trump. Before last year’s election, Putin, answering half-jokingly when asked who would be preferable for Russia, named Biden — saying he was more predictable. Is Trump’s unpredictability truly the result of a lack of deep knowledge or of frivolity? His team, shall we say, is rather expressive. When asked why Budapest was chosen for a Trump–Putin meeting, they replied: “Your mom.”

Alexander Dugin: Putin supported Biden in order not to harm Trump — had he named Trump, they would have removed him from the race, accusing him of a “Russian plot.” It was a favor. Biden is predictable; his red lines are clear. He and the Democrats pursue linear escalation — a hot war with the West that will eventually erupt.

Trump’s unpredictability runs in two directions: he can go further both in escalation and in reconciliation. His impulsiveness, his frivolity — at times resembling dementia — is obvious. Biden’s is quiet; Trump’s is stormy. Yet there is logic in it. When neoconservatives like Kellogg or the Russia-designated terrorist Lindsey Graham pressure him, he leans on MAGA. When MAGA demands too much, he turns to the neocons. This movement between poles is not mere spontaneity but an algorithm.

The answer “your mom” to the Budapest question is more than rudeness; it’s a response to the Russophobic undertone of the inquiry — the insinuation “are you Putin’s spy?” Caroline Leavitt and the Trump team essentially say: “Get lost, pigs.” And rightly so — that is how one should speak to a deceitful opposition that has unleashed a war. Liberal journalists besieging the government seize upon such phrases.

Trump’s spontaneity has its own logic, like Prigozhin’s in the physics of chaos: chaos is a complex order. Putin at Valdai spoke of Edgar Morin’s “philosophy of complexity.” In the quantum world, Trump navigates well — though it isn’t Newton’s classical mechanics but a nonlinear system. His boundary conditions are wider than Biden’s. He is ready for escalation so long as it avoids nuclear war. Biden, out of Russophobia, might drive the situation further, while Trump perhaps only pretends to be ready for apocalypse. He is a pleasure-loving bon vivant, neither suicide nor fanatic, willing to sacrifice liberal principles for advantage.

Host: Continuing — perhaps as a separate topic — I’d like to discuss in more detail the possible venue of the next Putin–Trump meeting. This ties back to what you mentioned earlier. Budapest, Hungary: a city with historical heritage and modern associations linked to its country and leaders. How should we view this choice if the presidents of Russia and the United States really meet there and Budapest is confirmed?

Alexander Dugin: This situation must be viewed through the prism of political and geopolitical layers of reality. It’s obvious that Europe is not one — there are two Europes. Once upon a time the “collective West” — Biden’s administration and the EU — formed a single field of liberal democracies and globalism, advancing an agenda of perversion, gay parades banned in Russia, BLM, hatred of one’s own roots and culture, cancel culture, and uncontrolled migration. That was the common platform of the West — the US and Europe together.

Trump’s revolution, grounded in MAGA, brought opposite tendencies into America. The US found itself in a unique position: still the “father” of Europe — as Rutte and von der Leyen call Trump, the godfather of Europe — yet its president follows a strategy contrary to that of EU leaders. JD Vance spoke about this in Europe; Elon Musk actively supports populists, shaking the liberal-globalist elites in Britain, France, Germany, and Romania through X.com. These elites were defeated in America yet retain influence in Europe.

The second Europe is sovereign, populist, “MAGA-style” — Make Europe Great Again by analogy with MAGA. It is Euro-Trumpism, defending independence and sovereignty, opposing globalists, mass migration, LGBT, and gay marriage — all banned in Russia and Hungary. Orbán’s Budapest is the citadel of Euro-Trumpism, a fortress of conservatism and traditional values where Soros, gay parades, and illegal migration are forbidden. It is Europe’s MAGA counterpart.

When asked “Why Budapest?” Trump replies: “It’s our territory.” Orbán is his closest ally in Europe. Fico is a left-wing populist, whereas Orbán is right-wing and conservative like Trump. Another conservative populist is our own president Vladimir Putin, who relies on the people and traditional values while opposing migration and perversions. Three leaders — Putin, Trump, and Orbán — meet in Budapest, a place closer to Russia yet still within the West. Anchorage was once close too, part of our former empire, just as Hungary was during the Soviet period. Trump performs a geopolitical dance at our borders — now Alaska, now Budapest. After Putin’s visit to his friend Orbán, it’s logical for Trump to come to us. Orbán is an outcast among liberal leaders yet a friend of Trump and Putin. Where else, if not with a mutual friend, should the leaders of two warring powers meet to build bridges? Orbán’s Hungary is the chief opponent of Ukraine: his veto blocks military, financial, and diplomatic aid to Kyiv within the EU. Orbán is our friend, Trump’s friend, close to both. Zelensky seethes with panic — a triple humiliation. He leans on the liberal-globalist leadership of the EU — Schwab, Larry Fink, the Davos Forum. Zelensky is their puppet, opposing sovereignty, nations, and traditions, envisioning a world without Russia, Ukraine, France, or Germany — a world government and a zombified humanity. Under the guise of patriotism, he betrays Ukraine ideologically. Orbán, by contrast, is a true Hungarian patriot, yielding sovereignty neither to the EU nor to us nor to Trump. Hungary is the ideal, symbolic point for a Putin–Trump meeting.

If the meeting succeeds — though with Trump, as we noted, nothing is predictable, for he can make any turn within his chaotic algorithm — the next step would be a visit by Trump to Moscow, St. Petersburg, Kazan, or Sochi, but not yet to Crimea. Trump circles around us: we move toward him, he toward us, or we meet on neutral ground. Europe, apart from Orbán and Fico, is not neutral — it is the conflict zone that arms Zelensky’s regime. Budapest is Trump’s logical choice. Journalists who asked “why Budapest?” were brusquely dismissed — the choice is obvious. Where else, if not there? Anchorage has been used; India is impossible because of oil; China and the Islamic world are unsuitable. Budapest fits perfectly. Trump feels confident there, among ideological allies of MEGA. For us, it is optimal: Fico is left-wing, Trump is right-wing, and he accepts no leftists.

This meeting could become a breakthrough — yet within Trump’s fragile, volatile reality, where he behaves like a figure of quantum mechanics rather than classical physics. The world is sinking into chaos that demands swift thinking. Trump’s inconsistency is not madness but logic of another order. Psychoanalysis reveals scripts within chaos. For effective action we need quantum diplomacy — as Putin said at Valdai — that accounts for Edgar Morin’s retroactive loops. Solving one problem creates another — economic, ideological, or religious. Putin masterfully governs this chaos, following a complex algorithm toward power, sovereignty, and a multipolar world. His moves seem nonlinear yet make sense to those who perceive them. Trump is a wilder chaos, but chaos bound by an algorithm. An approach to the meeting that integrates psychological, ideological, and geopolitical levels could make it fruitful. Trump’s convergence with MAGA and with us gives rise to the idea of Alaska–Siberia. To voice it is already to redraw the map of the world in the information age.

In one sense it’s trolling — yet in our era almost everything is trolling. We live in a fast, superficial informational world where fact-checking has vanished. The liberal-globalists have appropriated the term: their interests are “facts,” everything else “fake” or “conspiracy theory.” Fact-checking itself has become fake. People are bewildered; exposing information flows no longer matters. The Alaska–Siberia project, launched by Trump and echoed by Putin, begins to live its own life. Whether real or not is secondary. It dissolves the globalist system for which such a project is unthinkable. A proposal by a US president, in the midst of war between West and Russia, for direct communication — this sabotages their informational campaign, as the Nord Stream sabotage did in material form, yet here in imagination. In the information age, imagination outweighs reality.

I once posted on social media an AI-generated image of Brigitte Macron as a Neanderthal emerging from a cave. Candace Owens re-posted it, and now it figures in a French lawsuit against her — a $200 million claim for a repost. Where lies the line between imagination and legal reality? This is an example of the philosophy of complexity, of quantum international relations.

Host: Let’s return to the Middle East. Cease-fires, agreements, the war halted by Trump — none of that exists. Israel continues to strike and openly admits it, ironically declaring: “We’ll strike now, launch an operation, and then return to peace.”

Alexander Dugin: The same short cycles repeat. Trump stopped the war, arrived at the Knesset, received applause, departed — and everything was forgotten. The war goes on, people die as if nothing happened. No one notices; they flip the page and move to the next topic — say, Budapest. In this world there is no stability — neither peace nor war, neither victory nor defeat. It is a world of short cycles, fragments, clichés, newspaper headlines rearranged in random order. Baudrillard called this post-history — where past and future exchange places through informational currents. Netanyahu records new strikes on Gaza as old ones, from before the cease-fire, and everyone nods. We live in a world of discourses. Fact-checking becomes absurd — it takes too long; people forget. One must, like surfing, ride the waves of information campaigns toward one’s goal, without distraction. Israel does this — and, alas, successfully — pursuing a dreadful policy and destroying human lives.

(Translated from the Russian)