Former Canadian MP and current Midas Canada leader Charlie Angus didn’t just criticize Donald Trump — he indicted his entire political life, painting him as a man woven into Russian networks for decades and now willing to sell out Ukraine piece by piece to satisfy Vladimir Putin.
From the very first words, Angus framed Trump not as some rogue outsider, but as what he calls a “traitor asset” of the Kremlin, whose choices have pushed Ukraine, NATO, and even Canada closer to danger.
According to Angus, this story doesn’t start in 2016. It starts in the 1980s.
He points back to 1987, when Trump was invited to visit the Soviet Union by Intourist — a Soviet-era travel agency that former KGB officer Viktor Suvorov has described as a long-standing entrapment operation. Angus highlights descriptions of how guests were allegedly offered luxury, parties, “nice girls,” saunas, and more, all under 24-hour surveillance, with one goal: gather compromising material, or “kompromat,” that could be used later.
In Angus’s telling, that was the beginning of a long, careful reel-in.
From there, the video traces a familiar but dark web: Trump Tower units allegedly snapped up by figures linked to Russian organized crime, FBI busts of gambling and money-laundering rings operating just floors below Trump’s office, and Trump’s financial collapse in the early 1990s, followed by lifelines from banks like Deutsche Bank — described by Angus as notorious for washing Russian money.
Russian cash, he argues, didn’t just show up by accident. It kept Trump afloat.
Then Angus shifts to the 2010s and the political arena. He cites journalist Luke Harding’s book Collusion, which claims Russian intelligence began a file on Trump back in the late 1970s. He brings up the infamous Steele dossier, compiled by former MI6 officer Christopher Steele — a document that alleged deep financial entanglements, political leverage, and explosive personal kompromat. While much of the dossier has been heavily disputed, Angus insists it was a “staggering indictment” that too many in American media and politics brushed aside.
He reminds viewers of the familiar cast: Michael Flynn, Paul Manafort, George Papadopoulos, Michael Cohen, Felix Sater, Carter Page — Trump associates and advisers with various alleged or proven connections to Russian interests. He recalls the Trump Tower meeting with Jared Kushner and Russian intermediaries, where dirt on Hillary Clinton was reportedly offered, and suggests another dossier was silently placed on the table: the one on Trump himself.
In Angus’s narrative, the pattern is unmistakable:
Russian money, Russian leverage, Russian opportunity.
Then he gets to Ukraine.
Angus accuses Trump of having a clear, long-running focus on undermining Ukraine. From the moment Trump entered the White House, Angus claims, he began cutting aid, weakening intelligence cooperation, and shutting down networks designed to monitor Russian cyberattacks. Trump, he says, “was selling out his own people in plain view,” while positioning Russia to strike harder at Ukraine and the West.
The comparison Angus makes next is brutal: he invokes Munich 1938, when Hitler and Chamberlain carved up Czechoslovakia under the illusion of “peace,” leaving it militarily exposed and paving the way for total takeover a year later. Angus says Trump’s floated “deal” for Ukraine — forcing Kyiv to surrender territory, slash its defenses, and stop relying on the West — mirrors that same fatal mistake. In his view, it’s not peace; it’s preparation for conquest.
He warns that if Ukraine falls, the Baltics could be next, and even Canada is in the line of fire as Russian ambitions clash with Western democracies.
To drive it home, Angus quotes historian Timothy Snyder, who has described Trump as a construct of Russian money and influence, a fictional “winner” propped up to help his country lose. Fiction on fiction on fiction, Angus says — a TV businessman persona, financed and stabilized by Russian bailouts, turned into a political figure who now threatens the very architecture of NATO.
And if American institutions won’t fully confront that, Angus argues, the responsibility spills over the border:
onto Canada, onto Europe, onto Australia, New Zealand, Japan, and every ally willing to “hold the line and stop the gangsters.”
By the time he finishes, this isn’t just a critique anymore.
It’s a warning flare — and a challenge to the rest of the world to stop pretending they didn’t see it coming.
Leave a Reply