OPEN LETTER : Pro-Ukraine Republican Senators Against Trump — The Fracture Over Aid to Kyiv

Introduction: America at a Ukrainian Crossroads

A letter I never thought I'd have to write

Ladies and gentlemen of the Republican Senate, I am writing to you from outside your chamber, from this side of the border where one watches with growing anxiety the paralysis gripping Washington in the face of the most decisive war of our generation. I write as a columnist who has followed this conflict since February 24, 2022, who has read every communiqué, every front-line report, every presidential statement. And what I see today, in this third week of June 2026, troubles me deeply — not for lack of courage in your ranks, but precisely because courage exists, and it is constrained, stifled, muscled aside by a White House that has decided the war in Ukraine is no longer an American priority.

On June 16, 2026, Donald Trump declared on camera that the war in Ukraine had "no impact" on the United States, that America "had nothing to do" with this distant conflict. Those words resonate as a rhetorical capitulation — not before Putin, since Trump will never admit yielding to anyone — but before the most short-term isolationist impulse in contemporary Republican history. And yet, in the Senate corridors, some of you refuse to bow. This letter is addressed to you. It is also addressed to all of America.

What you represent at this critical moment

You represent something many believed lost: the internationalist Republican tradition — the one that believes America has a responsibility in maintaining the world's democratic order, that alliances are strategic assets rather than burdens, that betraying an ally at war sends a signal that Washington's enemies carefully record. Cornyn, Wicker, Grassley — your names are associated, in this week of June 18, 2026, with a concrete legislative act: the SABER Act. You did not merely talk. You acted.

And it is precisely this concrete action, in a political landscape dominated by presidential pressure and fear of primaries, that deserves to be analyzed, celebrated, and — honestly — questioned as to its sufficiency. Because introducing a bill is not passing it. And between the two lies the full weight of contemporary American politics.

The SABER Act: When Resistance Takes Legislative Form

Three Republicans who refuse to go silent

On June 18, 2026, something remarkable happened in the United States Senate. Republican Senators John Cornyn (Texas), Roger Wicker (Mississippi), and Chuck Grassley (Iowa) co-introduced with their Democratic colleagues the SABER Act — standing for Seized Assets for Battlefield Equipment and Readiness. This bipartisan legislation aims to allow Ukraine to use assets confiscated from the Russian central bank to purchase military equipment directly for the defense of its territory against Vladimir Putin's aggression. It is a bold initiative, elegant in its logic — forcing Putin to finance his own defeat — and politically courageous in the current context.

Senator Cornyn was direct in his public statement: the SABER Act would "go even further to help our ally defend itself against Russian aggression and force Putin to foot the bill for arming Ukraine." Senator Wicker recalled that Ukraine "should have all available means to defend itself." And Senator Grassley insisted that "this support for Ukraine costs the American taxpayer nothing" — a strategically and politically shrewd argument, designed to defuse populist opposition to aid for Kyiv.

The irrefutable logic: Putin pays for his own war

What makes the SABER Act particularly difficult to attack politically is its impeccable financial mechanics. It builds on the REPO Act already in force, which permits confiscation of Russian sovereign assets frozen under American jurisdiction. The SABER Act simply proposes to expand the use of those funds to include purchasing military equipment. This is not American money. It is not additional debt. It is Russian money, frozen by legitimate sanctions, redirected to the defense of the country Russia is attacking.

Senator Sheldon Whitehouse summarized the bill's philosophy plainly: "Hundreds of billions of dollars in frozen Russian funds should be put to good use repelling Russian invaders and supporting the brave Ukrainians fighting for freedom." This is economic common sense as much as a moral principle: the aggressor must pay the costs of its aggression. The bipartisan legislation transcends the usual divisions because it rests on an argument no one can contest without appearing to defend Russian impunity.

Trump and Ukraine: An Abandonment Dressed as Diplomacy

"No impact on us" — the word too many

Let us return to that June 16, 2026 statement, because it deserves serious examination. Trump said the war in Ukraine had "no impact on us, except that we sell weapons." This formulation reveals, beyond its apparent arrogance, a worldview that reduces international engagement to a commercial transaction. For the American president, if Ukraine does not generate direct profit — in votes, contracts, or media visibility — it does not exist. This is the triumph of pure transactional thinking over any strategic or moral consideration.

Yet this same Trump, according to Semafor on June 16, 2026, had announced the day before that he was going to "focus on Ukraine" after the conclusion of the Iran deal. Less than twenty-four hours later, the Ukrainian war had been relegated to the "rearview mirror." This reversal in under a day is not diplomatic subtlety — it is inconstancy elevated to doctrine. And it is precisely what Putin needs: an American president who is unpredictable and always ends up looking elsewhere.

The severance of military aid: a decision with concrete consequences

Trump cut all military aid to Ukraine, including the vital air defense systems Kyiv desperately needs to destroy the ballistic missiles Putin is raining down on Ukrainian civilians — and this even as Europe offered to pay for the weapons, as chronicler Trudy Rubin documented in the Philadelphia Inquirer on June 14, 2026. The American refusal is therefore not financial. It is political. It is a deliberate choice not to help, dressed as neutrality, but in practice leaving Kyiv more exposed.

The consequences are concrete and documented. Ukraine sent an urgent letter to Trump before the G7 summit, warning of critical shortages in defensive missiles. These shortages, in the absence of American deliveries, expose Ukrainian cities to attacks that current systems no longer suffice to intercept. This is not an abstract geopolitical question — it is a matter of life and death for civilians in Kharkiv, Zaporizhzhia, Kyiv. And Trump says it has "no impact" on the United States.

The House Showed the Way, the Senate Still Hesitates

The Ukraine Support Act: a victory in the House, silence in the Senate

On June 4, 2026, the House of Representatives passed the Ukraine Support Act — a law imposing new sanctions on Russia and providing military assistance to Ukraine. This vote was a bipartisan rebuke to Trump's Ukraine policy, and it overcame Speaker Mike Johnson's attempts to block it. This is remarkable: House Republicans defied their own leadership to vote in favor of aid to Kyiv. The signal was strong, clear, historic in its context.

But according to columnist Trudy Rubin of the Philadelphia Inquirer, "the White House has pressured pro-Ukraine Senate Republicans to stay quiet" on a similar measure. There lies the real mechanics of the blockade: not a lost Senate vote, but preventive intimidation. The senators are not allowed to vote, so one can then claim there is no majority. It is political control through implicit threat, not shared conviction.

White House pressure on Republican senators

The KPMG Capitol Hill Weekly report of June 15, 2026 confirms that the House's Ukraine bill remains in limbo in the Senate, with no clear review timeline. The report notes it is "not yet clear if this legislation will be taken up by the Senate." This deliberate ambiguity is diplomatic language for: the White House does not want the vote to happen. And when the White House does not want it, the Republican Senate majority generally ensures it does not.

The mechanics of this intimidation are brutal in their simplicity. According to analysis by US News and World Report on June 19, 2026, Republican Senators John Cornyn and Bill Cassidy both suffered primary defeats the previous month after Trump backed their rivals. The message is unambiguous: defying Trump on Ukraine costs you your political career. Most senators who would vote for aid to Kyiv are silently calculating whether their conscience is worth their seat. For many, tragically, the answer is no.

The Republican Fracture: From Calculated Silence to Discreet Rebellion

Primaries as a weapon of deterrence

According to the US News and World Report of June 19, 2026, the relationship between Trump and Republican senators appears to be "approaching a breaking point." Disagreements span multiple fronts — election legislation, intelligence nominations, government spending, and congressional authority over military matters. But it is on Ukraine that the fracture is most revealing, because it is not only political — it is simultaneously strategic and moral.

Other senators remain in more discreet rebellion. Senator Susan Collins of Maine has criticized tariffs. Senator Thom Tillis of North Carolina decided not to seek re-election after repeated Trump criticism on social media. These individual acts of resistance, scattered and isolated, do not yet constitute a coherent coalition capable of forcing a Senate vote on Ukraine. But they reveal the true extent of Republican unease facing a president who conflates loyalty to the party with personal loyalty to himself.

The Republican caucus between fear and conscience

Analysis by American Bazaar on June 18, 2026 confirms that "a growing number of Republican senators are opposing President Trump's demands," revealing "one of the most visible disagreements between Trump and Republican senators since his return to the White House." But the same report carefully notes that there is "no indication of a broader revolt against Trump." The majority of Republican senators continue to support the administration's main agenda. This is the paradox: the fracture is real, but insufficient to change policy.

This paradox has a name: fear of primaries. Since Trump demonstrated his ability to unseat established Republican senators by backing their primary challengers, the political calculus has shifted. The question is no longer: what does my state think about Ukraine? It is: what does Trump think of my loyalty? And for most sitting Republican senators, the answer to that second question determines everything else, including their position on the longest war on European soil since World War II.

Roger Wicker: The Man Who Says No to Two Masters

The Armed Services Committee chairman facing his contradictions

Roger Wicker, Republican senator from Mississippi and chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee, occupies a particularly interesting position within this fracture. On June 15, 2026, his committee reported the annual defense authorization bill — the NDAA 2026 — to the full Senate, including a provision extending American security assistance to Ukraine and raising authorized funding to $750 million, according to the Council on Foreign Relations. This same Wicker co-signs the SABER Act to arm Ukraine with confiscated Russian assets.

But the same Wicker is also the one who, on June 18, 2026, sharply criticized the Trump-Iran deal, calling the $300 billion reconstruction fund envisioned for Tehran potentially problematic. He stated: "President Trump has sought peace through strength. I hope those mediating this deal don't undermine that goal." Wicker is not a Trump clone — he is an old-school Republican who still believes American foreign policy must rest on principles rather than improvised deals. On Ukraine, his consistency deserves recognition.

A strategic consistency that transcends partisan loyalty

What is striking about Wicker is the consistency of his Ukraine position across time. He supported aid to Ukraine under Biden; he supports it under Trump. His stance is not partisan — it is strategic. Since Fox News of June 18, 2026, Republicans like Wicker have recalled that Secretary of State Marco Rubio himself declared before Congress that Russia's invasion of Ukraine was a "strategic disaster," and that Ambassador Dan Negrea affirmed at the United Nations that "Russia cannot achieve its objectives on the battlefield." If the administration acknowledges these facts, why cut the aid that accelerates this reality?

Wicker and his pro-Ukraine Senate colleagues ask this question constantly, in private and now publicly through the legislation they co-sign. The administration's response is deafening silence or a redirect toward deal rhetoric. But senators who have spent decades thinking about American defense policy know what most political commentators forget: wars do not end through deals. They end when one side can no longer fight or no longer wants to. And in Ukraine, only Putin should be in that position.

The G7 at Évian: Trump Forced into a Pro-Ukraine Shift

Macron and European allies pull Trump toward Kyiv

On June 15, 16, and 17, 2026, G7 leaders met in Évian, France, on the shores of Lake Geneva. And what happened there is revealing. Trump arrived with his Ukrainian "rearview mirror" speech, convinced that the Iran deal had exhausted his diplomatic capital. Macron — who had himself, according to EU News, a "difficult meeting" with Trump on Ukraine — nonetheless managed to include Zelensky in the discussions. The G7's final communiqué surprised more than one observer: "We, the G7 Leaders, stand united in our unwavering support for Ukraine to defend its freedom, sovereignty, and territorial integrity."

Furthermore, the signatories committed to "increasing the delivery of air defense capabilities, additional systems and interceptors, and long-range capabilities." Trump himself signed this text. Even under diplomatic pressure, even compelled by his European allies, Trump put his signature on a document reaffirming Western support for Ukraine. This is insufficient, ambiguous, and probably fragile — but it is there, in black and white, and pro-Ukraine senators can seize it as an implicit presidential acknowledgment of the legitimacy of their cause.

Trump's reversal at Évian: calculation or conviction?

The question haunting American policy observers is simple: is Trump's reversal at Évian sincere or tactical? The EU News analysis of June 17, 2026 is sharp — it speaks of Trump's "suddenly pro-Kyiv posture" and the "classic tycoon flattery" performed by Macron. In other words: Macron knew how to trigger Trump's ego, making him see support for Ukraine not as a moral choice but as a personal victory. Trump said Russia "must find a deal, and I will do everything in my power to make that happen." He even announced a possible return of oil sanctions on Russia.

For pro-Ukraine Republican senators, this reversal — whatever its motivation — is an exploitable signal. If Trump can be brought to sign a G7 communiqué supporting Ukraine, if Trump can threaten Moscow with oil sanctions, then the argument that he is irredeemably in Putin's pocket collapses. He can be persuaded. He can be influenced. And that is precisely the role senators co-signing the SABER Act can play — not as frontal opposition, but as a constant and legislatively documented institutional pressure.

Ukraine on the Battlefield: The Dynamics Trump Ignores

Kyiv advances, Moscow retreats — and Washington looks away

While Washington debates geopolitical priorities, the war continues with an intensity that Senate and presidential debates sometimes seem to forget. In June 2026, Ukraine launched its largest attack on Moscow to date, according to NBC News of June 19, 2026. Ukrainian drones — particularly the new generations of medium-range drones described by Defense Priorities — are changing the nature of the conflict. Kyiv has managed to strike Russian targets in depth in ways that HIMARS did not previously allow.

The G7 itself acknowledged in its Évian communiqué what serious military observers have been describing for weeks: "a new dynamic" in Ukrainian military operations. Ukraine is gaining ground — not spectacularly, not decisively — but it is holding, innovating, striking. In this context, cutting or delaying air defense aid, as Trump did by halting Patriot system deliveries, amounts to stripping a boxer of his gloves at the moment he is finally mastering his opponent.

Ukrainian soldiers and the cost of American disengagement

Philadelphia Inquirer columnist Rubin is direct: Trump "continues to help the loser, Putin, and to undermine the increasingly visible winner, Kyiv." It is a harsh diagnosis, but one consistent with the facts. On the ground, Ukrainian forces are advancing. They have developed a long-range strike capability that even American restrictions did not prevent. They have adapted their military doctrine, trained new generations of soldiers, and maintained a resistance no one in Washington — pro-Trump or pro-Ukraine — anticipated in 2022.

But this resistance carries a human cost that statistics cannot fully capture. The twenty-five thousand monthly deaths invoked by Trump himself are a constant reality that has persisted for months. Every week without Patriot interceptors, every month without air defense system updates, translates into Ukrainian cities more exposed to Russian ballistic missiles. The Republican senators who support the SABER Act understand this equation. They know the urgency is not rhetorical — it is measured in human lives across a territory the size of France.

The REPO Act and the Logic of Confiscated Russian Assets

Forcing Putin to finance his own defeat

It is worth taking the time to explain the logic behind the SABER Act, because it is simultaneously brilliant and politically disarming to its opponents. The REPO Act — adopted under Biden — permitted the confiscation of Russian sovereign assets frozen under American jurisdiction and their transfer to Ukraine for humanitarian, reconstruction, and economic aid purposes. The authors of the SABER Act propose going further: authorizing those same confiscated assets to purchase military equipment for the Ukrainian army.

Senator Grassley formulated it with surgical precision: this support for Ukraine "costs the American taxpayer nothing." This is not American money — it is Russian money, frozen by sanctions, redirected to the defense of the country Russia is attacking. It enshrines a principle: the aggressor pays. And if the American government as a whole does not yet have the political will to pass this bill, the mere introduction of this bipartisan legislation — with prominent Republicans among its co-signers — sends a signal to Moscow that Western solidarity with Ukraine is not dead.

Russian assets as an unprecedented geopolitical tool

Senator Chris Coons of Delaware expressed it clearly: "Ukraine is on the front lines of freedom in Europe, protecting the rest of the world from Putin's unprovoked aggression," and the SABER Act "opens new avenues of support to ensure our security and Ukraine's." This framing is significant: support for Ukraine is presented not as charity, but as an investment in collective security. It is a framing that should theoretically resonate with the traditional Republican base, concerned with national security.

Frozen Russian assets represent, according to available estimates, hundreds of billions of dollars — a figure Senator Whitehouse explicitly invoked. These funds, currently immobilized, serve neither Russians nor Ukrainians. The SABER Act would transform them into an unprecedented geopolitical tool: a kind of "preemptive war reparation" that punishes the aggressor while arming its victim. It is a legislative innovation that should inspire European allies, and that deserves a Senate vote — a vote the White House is actively working to prevent.

The Fracture Within the GOP: A Party Searching for Its Foreign-Policy Soul

Between Trumpist isolationism and traditional internationalism

The fracture over Ukraine is not an ordinary political quarrel — it is an ontological debate about the Republican Party's identity on foreign policy. On one side, the Reagan-Bush-McCain-Romney legacy: America as guarantor of the liberal international order, supporting democracies under aggression, standing against authoritarian empires. On the other, the Trump-Vance vision: America First, alliances as burdens, distant wars as distractions, and Europe as a free rider to be handed the bill.

The US News and World Report of June 19, 2026 notes that Republicans Cassidy, Cornyn, and Tillis have become regular critics of Trump. It is not coincidental that two of them — Cornyn and Cassidy — suffered primary defeats after Trump backed their rivals. Those defeats did not silence them: they may have freed them. When you have nothing left to lose electorally, you can afford to defend what you genuinely believe is right. That is one of the tragic ironies of contemporary politics.

The Ukrainian mirror reveals the limits of Trumpism

Ukraine has become a fracture-revealer for divisions that lay dormant within the Republican Party for years. Trumpism has always coexisted uncomfortably with the Republican national-security establishment — the generals, strategists, and foreign-affairs specialists who built their careers on the conviction that America must be present in the world to keep it safe. These two worldviews were artificially held together within one party since 2016. Ukraine now forces an explicit choice.

And this choice is not only philosophical — it carries real electoral implications. The 2026 midterms are approaching, and Republicans who defied Trump on Ukraine are calculating whether their posture can become an advantage rather than a liability. In some states, public opinion remains favorable toward moderate Ukraine support. The growing disaffection of Republican voters with Trump's most radical positions may offer these senators a window — narrow, uncertain, but real.

Zelensky at the G7: A Presence That Changes the Dynamic

Macron's invitation and the secret trilateral meeting

Emmanuel Macron had invited Volodymyr Zelensky to address G7 leaders at Évian. This was no casual move — it was a calculated diplomatic gesture to remind the assembled leaders, including Trump, of the human and strategic face of this conflict. And it worked, at least in part. According to the Kyiv Independent, there was even a discreet trilateral meeting between Zelensky, Trump, and Macron on the summit's sidelines — a meeting Zelensky described as potentially able to "make a great difference."

Zelensky raised at that meeting the question of Ukraine's critical air defense needs. He had already sent Trump an urgent letter before the summit, warning of missile defense shortages. Ukraine's ask at the American level is modest — essentially interceptors for Patriot systems. It is not the moon. But even this limited request remains blocked by a policy that refuses to see Ukraine as a priority. Pro-Ukraine Republican senators see the same thing Zelensky does: the window is closing gradually, week by week.

What Zelensky embodies that Washington struggles to acknowledge

Volodymyr Zelensky represents something that Western democracies tend to forget in their daily political routine: the possibility of governing with an explicit moral conviction. He did not flee Kyiv in February 2022. He spoke the famous line — "I need ammunition, not a ride" — that defined a historic moment. Since then, he has governed a nation at war, under bombardment, maintaining the morale of his people and the cohesion of his allies.

American pro-Ukraine senators have met Zelensky. They have listened to him. They understand what his eyes express when he asks for air defense systems: it is not the request of a man begging for charity. It is the appeal of a head of state defending the values Washington proclaims universal. And when these senators co-sign the SABER Act or vote for the Ukraine Support Act, they are answering that call. They are saying: we heard you. We are doing what we can, within the constraints before us.

The Geopolitical Stakes Beyond Ukraine

What Moscow registers from Washington

Here is what pro-Ukraine Republican senators understand, and what their Trumpist colleagues appear to ignore: Putin takes note of every signal from Washington. When Trump says the Ukrainian war is not an American priority, Moscow registers. When the Senate delays action on the Ukraine Support Act, Moscow registers. When deliveries of air defense systems are suspended, Moscow registers. And every signal of weakening Western resolve is an invitation to intensify military pressure on Kyiv — to send more ballistic missiles, to attack more civilian infrastructure, to test the limits of what Ukraine can still absorb.

Secretary of State Marco Rubio declared before Congress that Russia's invasion of Ukraine was a "strategic disaster." Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth said the United States "will find a way" to help Ukraine defend itself. These statements cost nothing. What costs something is legislative action, weapons deliveries, Senate votes. And that is precisely where the gap between the Trump administration's rhetoric and reality is widest, most dangerous, and most exploitable by Moscow.

The precedent set by abandoning Kyiv for Taipei and Seoul

Senators who work on armed services committees know this better than anyone: abandoning Ukraine sends a signal to other theaters of tension. If Putin can invade a neighbor, deny its sovereignty, massacre its civilian population — and if the United States responds with gradual disengagement — then what message does China, Iran, or North Korea receive? The message is simple and devastating: America abandons its allies when pressure mounts. And if that message becomes established geopolitical truth, the world of 2030 will be incomparably more dangerous than that of 2022.

Analysis published in Fox News on June 18, 2026 emphasizes that supporting Ukraine now, as Ukrainian troops advance, is "the ideal moment for the Trump administration to strengthen NATO" and deter any future Russian aggression. It is an argument anchored in American national interest, not international charity. If Trump genuinely cares about long-term American interests — rather than just the next news cycle — he should listen to these Republicans who tell him Ukraine is a strategic investment, not a burden.

The America History Will Judge

To the senators who read this letter

So let me be direct, ladies and gentlemen of the pro-Ukraine Republican Senate. You introduced the SABER Act. You voted for the Ukraine Support Act in the House. You co-signed statements with your Democratic colleagues to reaffirm support for Kyiv. You told your constituents that aid to Ukraine costs the American taxpayer nothing and that Putin must pay for his aggression. All of this is good. But your voice is limited to the legislative sphere so long as the executive exerts countervailing pressure.

What history will remember is not legislative bills introduced but never passed. What it will remember is whether America — in June 2026, as Ukraine was advancing on the battlefield, as the G7 reaffirmed its unity, as Zelensky pleaded for a few Patriot interceptors — whether America chose to maintain or abandon its role as guarantor of the democratic world order. You senators who resist are holding one end of that legacy. Hold it firmly. Europe is holding its part. Kyiv is holding its part. Washington must hold its part too.

The judgment of history and the responsibility of the moment

The Defense Priorities article of June 16, 2026, signed by Jennifer Kavanagh, is unambiguous: "the window for a deal is closing." Eighteen months after Trump took office, peace negotiations have stalled, the war has escalated, and mediation efforts have been more counterproductive than constructive. If Trump is serious about ending the conflict, he will need to change his approach — and that change requires the active support of senators who maintain bipartisan pressure on Ukraine. Their role is not only to vote on laws. It is to keep alive the American tradition of commitment to global democracy.

Since the 2022 invasion began, the United States has committed more than $118 billion in assistance to Ukraine, of which approximately $65 billion in direct military aid, according to the Council on Foreign Relations. This is not nothing — it is a massive commitment that has helped keep Ukraine standing. Cutting that commitment now, at the moment Ukraine is gaining the upper hand on the battlefield, would be not only a moral betrayal but a monumental strategic error. The pro-Ukraine Republican senators who have the courage to say so publicly deserve the support of all who believe the West must remain the center of gravity of the free world.

Conclusion: What This Fracture Tells Us About the West

A test of coherence for American democracy

The Republican fracture over Ukraine is not just an internal quarrel within the Republican Party. It is a test of coherence for American democracy as a whole. Can one be both the world's leading democracy and treat as a stowaway a nation fighting for the very values Washington proclaims to defend? Can one sign a G7 communiqué affirming "unwavering support" for Ukraine and, the next day, say the war has nothing to do with the United States? Pro-Ukraine Republican senators have identified this contradiction. Their challenge now is to resolve it, not merely name it.

Europe, which now funds most of the Ukrainian military effort, watches Washington with growing unease. It too is drawing conclusions: if the United States is no longer a reliable partner on Ukraine, what credibility should one assign to American security guarantees in general? This question haunts European capitals and explains the accelerated push toward the strategic autonomy Macron has defended for years. The Republican fracture over Ukraine is therefore not only an American drama — it is a symptom of a profound reconfiguration of Western security architecture.

Resistance as a durable legacy

In the weeks and months ahead, Ukraine will need air defense, ammunition, continuity in Western support — not just diplomatic promises renewed at each international summit. The SABER Act, the Ukraine Support Act, the declarations of Wicker, Cornyn, and Grassley: all of this sketches a landscape in which Republican resistance to Trumpist disengagement exists. It is a minority, it is discreet, it advances through small legislative steps rather than frontal confrontation. But it is real and documented.

And if Ukraine holds — as all military indicators of June 2026 suggest is possible — it will be partly thanks to these senators who refused to look away at the decisive moment. History does not forget the names of those who held. Nor does it forget the names of those who yielded to pressure, kept silent when their voice might have made a difference, calculated their political survival on the ruins of Western solidarity. This letter is a call. The choice, as always, is yours.