The Day Diplomacy Died In The Oval Office
BABAFEMI OJUDU
I was startled when I saw the video clip that emerged from the Oval Office yesterday. It was a scene that should never have played out in any nation’s highest diplomatic chamber, let alone in the hallowed halls of the United States presidency. The Oval Office, a space traditionally reserved for measured statecraft and dignified engagement between nations, became the setting for an extraordinary display of public humiliation—an event that will go down as a dark moment in the annals of international diplomacy.
Watching that clip, I was reminded less of a formal diplomatic exchange than of the kind of public tirades one might expect from Portable, the notorious Nigerian musician infamous for berating his former collaborators, baby mamas, or anyone who crosses his path. Or worse, it felt like a street-corner altercation where a senior gang member bullies a subordinate into submission. This is not how states should relate. This is not how diplomacy is conducted. And I struggle to find any historical precedent for the sheer abrasiveness of what we witnessed.
The scene was not a discussion; it was a harangue—a coercive performance meant not to strengthen alliances but to humiliate an ally. It reminded me of my own encounters with security operatives in Nigeria in the 1990s—officials who, after an arrest, would gather around in numbers to badger, insult, and break the spirit of their captive under the guise of interrogation. When reason fails to persuade, they resort to threats, and when threats fail, they simply lock you up. In this case, Donald Trump and his co-conspirator in the public berating of Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelensky stopped just short of calling for him to be carted off and detained in Guantanamo Bay.
This was not diplomacy; this was arm-twisting. Yes, stronger nations do apply pressure on weaker ones, but rarely in such a brazen and undignified manner. It was the kind of psychological bullying one might expect in a school dormitory, where a senior student torments a younger one to the point of breaking their self-esteem. Zelensky, a wartime leader navigating the existential survival of his nation, found himself subjected to a spectacle that reduced him from a visiting head of state to an object of scorn—ordered out of a meeting and forced to stand as his nation’s dignity was chipped away. One wonders how he truly felt in that moment—trapped, verbally battered by both the first and second most powerful figures in the United States. What was their objective? What was their calculation?
The practice of diplomacy is rooted in mutual respect, even among adversaries. Henry Kissinger, the master tactician of realpolitik, understood that power alone cannot sustain relationships—diplomacy is also about perception, negotiation, and maintaining equilibrium. The idea that a nation should treat its allies with dignity is a foundational principle in international relations—one I was taught in my master’s degree class at the University of Lagos. European leaders, from French President Emmanuel Macron to German Chancellor Olaf Scholz, have made clear that allies should not be pressured in such a crude manner. The EU’s foreign policy chief, Josep Borrell, has emphasized that diplomacy must be rooted in “strategic autonomy”—a term that, in this case, seems to have been completely disregarded.
The great theorists of diplomacy, from Hans Morgenthau to modern scholars of statecraft, recognize that the strength of a nation is not merely in its military or economic power but in its ability to build and sustain alliances. The United States, once seen as the paragon of global leadership, has set a dangerous precedent with this display. The world is watching, and the message it received was clear: the new age of diplomacy, at least in some quarters of Washington, is one of intimidation rather than persuasion, of humiliation rather than partnership.
One of the core tenets of Yoruba wisdom says, a kìí pa alejo eni ǹjàkin—you do not slaughter your guest and call it valor. Respect for visitors is deeply embedded in our culture, as it is in many others. The idea that a visiting head of state could be so publicly shamed, with cameras rolling, is an affront not just to Ukraine but to the very essence of diplomacy itself.
What happened in the Oval Office yesterday will not be forgotten anytime soon. Not by Ukraine, not by America’s allies, and certainly not by history.
Welcome to the new age of diplomacy—where might replaces right, where alliances are forged under duress, and where global leadership is measured not by wisdom but by the ability to humiliate.