
Note: Op-Eds represent the opinions of individual contributors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Miami Political Review as a whole.
Jack Liebowitz
Last weekend, Ukrainian President, Volodymir Zelenskyy attended a much-anticipated White House meeting with President Trump and Vice President Vance to discuss potential avenues toward peace with Russia. Tensions were high going into the meeting. Previously, President Trump had called Zelenskyy a “dictator” before backtracking his remarks. “I said that? I can’t believe I said that.”
Between questioning Zelenskyy’s leadership and excluding Ukraine from U.S.-Russia peace talks held in Saudi Arabia, trust between the two parties going into this meeting was, understandably, eroded. What is the absence of trust if not the brewing of pent-up animosity? On Saturday, those growing feelings of frustration finally burst, presenting themselves center stage for the world to see.
The meeting ended in a fiasco, with the sea of reporters and cameras capturing a bout between Zelenskyy, Trump, and Vance that appeared to begin when Zelenskyy pushed back against Vice President Vance’s calls to engage in a more diplomatic approach with Russia, reminding him that Russia had previously broken peace agreements in 2014. Zelenskyy also called into question whether Russia can be trusted now, given their propensity for ignoring such agreements.
Amid the fray, Brian Glenn, a White House media correspondent, host of Real America’s Voice, and Representative Majorie Taylor Greene’s boyfriend asked Zelenskyy a question of the utmost importance that Americans across the nation had been on the very edge of their seats, rife with anticipation to find out: “Why don’t you wear a suit?”
Pulitzer-worthy journalism at work here.
Of course, Glenn’s question was not earnest. He was not interested in the significance or meaning of the attire, or why a wartime leader would wear such a thing. Rather, it was a dig at what has become a signature look of Zelenskyy’s since the start of the war with Russia. Glenn went on, “You’re at the highest level in this country’s office and you refuse to wear a suit. Do you own a suit? A lot of Americans have problems with you not respecting the integrity of this office.”
“I will wear [a suit] after this war finishes,” Zelenskyy responded. Prior to the invasion of Ukraine, Zelenskyy wore the same attire that’s come to be expected of world leaders: a dark wool suit, white shirt, and a silk tie.
This was not the first comment made to Zelenskyy about his appearance during this visit to the White House. As Zelenskyy entered, and was Greeted by President Trump, reporters captured Trump remarking to Zelenskyy, “He’s all dressed up today.” No doubt a response to Zelenskyy’s choice to forgo the traditional suit and tie look.
The irony is that Glenn’s remarks do, albeit unintentionally, raise an important question regarding Zelenskyy’s appearance. Why doesn’t he wear a suit?
The answer, as you might expect, is not intended as a sign of disrespect towards other world leaders, or an offensive subversion of dress code in formal settings. Zelenskyy is a wartime leader, and as such, his attire is meant to reflect solidarity with the Ukrainian army and civilians.
Zelenskyy’s style intentionally features military motifs. What he wore to the White House this weekend—black slacks and a black sweater with the Ukrainian trident embroidered on the chest—references the fatigues that a Ukrainian soldier might wear when not in combat. Other wartime looks of his include chinos with functional side pockets, olive green t-shirts, an assortment of tactical outerwear zip-ups, and combat boots.
Upon viewing Glenn’s exchange with Zelenskyy you may notice that perched on a side table between the two of them is the bust of Winston Churchill, which was recently returned to the White House following Trump’s second inauguration. In an almost poetic fashion, the camera angle shows the Churchill bust—meant to memorialize the indomitable spirit of Britain’s famed wartime leader—looking outwards as Glenn’s inquisition of Zelenskyy’s military style took place. One can imagine how Churchill might have scoffed at Glenn’s questions.
Most of us recall Churchill in our mind’s eye as dressed in a three-piece suit with his signature bow tie and bowler hat, perhaps with a cigar in mouth and a brandy in hand. However, when Britain was at war with Nazi Germany, Churchill took on a different appearance, one with connections to Britain’s military and working-class civilians.
During World War II, Churchill donned his signature “siren-suit,” a one-piece zip-up garment designed by Churchill for both function and comfort. The garment itself gets its name from the experiences of hurrying to air raid shelters during the Blitz. The design was meant to emulate boiler suits worn by bricklayers, but it also has a distinct military flair to it. Functional front pockets, an adjustable waist belt, cuffs at the arms, and padding in the shoulders all can be found in the uniforms of British officers at the time.
When Churchill visited the White House for Christmas in 1941 as part of his efforts to receive aid from the United States, he is pictured wearing one of his siren-suits as he’s met by media on the front lawn. Later in the war, Churchill can be seen showing off a siren-suit to General Eisenhower.
“Why don’t you wear a suit, Prime Minister Churchill?”
Churchill’s reason for his departure from formal attire is the same as Zelenskyy’s today: leaders who find themselves at war see it necessary to ditch the formalities for the sake of solidarity. By dressing in military fatigues, Zelenskyy’s appearance alone is a constant reminder that his country is at war.
Beyond Zelenskyy’s emblematizing of Churchill, the subversion of traditional formal attire has its place in American revolutionary history too. When our nascent country declared independence from the most powerful empire of the time, we too found ourselves knocking at the door of a more powerful nation, pleading for necessary aid. Specifically, the style (in this case literally) in which we did so was not unlike Zelenskyy’s.
In 1778, Benjamin Franklin traveled to France for a meeting with the King. The goal: obtain aid and support for American independence. Franklin found himself in the ornate halls of Versailles; the product of Baroque-style architecture that emphasized the power of the French monarchy. Flanked by powdered wigs and women draped in flowing, elegant dresses, Franklin stood out to the crowd with his simple, humble attire— a coonskin cap even, meant to play into the French perception of Americans as rugged frontiersmen. “The image of a frugal, industrious, unpretentious republican American was something that Franklin cultivated.” Franklin’s sincerity and his refusal to pretend to be anything other than what he was—an American—captured the sentiments of the French, solidifying them as our oldest ally.
“Why don’t you dress à la française, monsieur Franklin?”
Few in the 18th Century would have believed that a band of colonists with an amateur military could defeat the British. Few in 2022 thought that Ukraine could stand up to the supposed might of the Russian army. In fact, three years ago U.S. intelligence suggested that Kyiv would fall into Russian hands in a matter of days. No one foresaw the Ukrainian people’s tenacity. Like Franklin, Zelenskyy’s appearance speaks to a segment of Ukrainian identity: their willingness to fight for the preservation of autonomy and freedom from despotism. It is a representation of the Ukrainian war-fighting spirit—which dates back to the Zaporozhian Cossacks of the 17th century—that business formal simply cannot convey.
For a nation at war navigating the tumultuous seas of foreign policy and diplomacy, appearances matter. If history teaches us anything here, it’s that adhering to the standard attire does not enable one to stand out, to capture the attention of their foreign audiences so that they might prevail against their foe. Whether it’s military fatigues, a siren-suit, or a coonskin cap, clothing can be utilized in ways beyond its intended purpose. We should all keep that in mind the next time we hear the question, “Why don’t you wear a suit?”

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