NATO's history of running hot and cold on Ukraine is running cold again

There was a particularly telling moment at a bygone NATO summit about four years ago, which perfectly captured the sometimes capricious way the Western military alliance regards Ukraine. 

The secretary general of the day, the often unflappable Jens Stoltenberg, was asked about the Eastern European country's long-standing bid to join the allies. 

At that point, Ukraine had been waiting more than a dozen years for admission. 

And much like the first signs of an approaching storm, there had been an ominous buildup of Russian forces on the border the previous spring.

Stoltenberg was asked if he foresaw any scenario under which Ukraine would join NATO unchallenged by Russia. (Full disclosure: I am the one who asked the question). 

It was — perhaps — sadly prescient. 

Stoltenberg, however, waved it off. 

Each nation has the right to pick and choose its alliances and associations, he responded.

The point — then and now — is that Ukraine had chosen. It had picked a side and charted its own course. It had thrown its lot in with allies in 2008 in the belief, perhaps misguided, that the Western promise of fairness and collective security was their future.

And yet, then — as now — Ukraine was left waiting outside the door.

At this week's NATO summit, President Volodymyr Zelenskyy — whose every word leaders hung on during the 2022 and 2023 gatherings — was relegated to the sidelines and the dining hall as Western leaders discussed his country's fate behind closed doors.

In fairness, Zelenskky did get face time with major leaders, including the American president, Donald Trump. 

Through that meeting, he secured additional, urgently needed U.S. Patriot missile battery systems.

There was a collective guarantee of additional aid worth 35 billion euros from European allied countries. Canada — at the G7 the week before — promised an additional $4.3 billion.