Zelensky is a heavily sponsored performer and comedian, carefully branded as a trendy, pioneering ‘liberal, People’s General’. He is held in his position only by the apparatus of the proxy war, and by his rôle as the front for its being continued, supported by mainstream media, including #NeoCon outlets, like The Telegraph.

He has no ability to manage a country, still less negotiate. That is why he will do anything that he is told to continue the war: in his own interest, it is what he must do, and — as a puppet, not politician — it’s all he can do.

When the war is finished, so is Zelensky.

For the duration if NATO’s Ukraine performance, Zelensky has played the rôle of the lovable hero, with the precious gift for the comic touch.

All he had to do was receive the plaudits of his puppeteers and their audience, with his fake air of mischievous modesty — thus apparently defusing the crisis, in his capacity as a great leader — and pepetuate NATO’s offensive with his fake stoicism; all the while enjoying the life of luxury with which his collaboration was rewarded.

But now Trump is here: critical and challenging, and — for the first time — Zelensky has to respond, in public, to something other than the plaudits of the globalists and their media outlets. The performer, who cares for nothing except himself, and who has only practised modest smiles, has to deal with open criticism. For this, he has no button. Moreover, because he has the emotional disinterest in his country of the rented comic puppet that he is, he doesn’t even have the capacity to be genuinely forceful or constructively angry.

He is empty and — wrong footed by the sudden appearance of Trump’s truth — his poise and rhetoric are cringeworthily and deservedly lost.