A Ukrainian soldier at the memorial wall for fallen defenders of Ukraine in Kyiv.
The war in Ukraine grinds on into its fourth year, and yet peace seems elusive. American President Donald Trump recently met Russian President Vladimir Putin in Anchorage, Alaska. Some hailed this as a breakthrough; others derided it as Trump being “played.”
Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelensky reacted with a flurry of phone calls to his European supporters. They then descended on Washington to discuss the summit and next steps with Trump. From reports, these talks do not appear to have delivered much by way of substantial agreements on the core issues and details associated with such. Generic talk of security guarantees and vague notions of what different nations may or may not contribute to such guarantees seem to avoid the issue that for Russia, NATO-allied nations’ troops in Ukraine is not just a “red line” but one of the core reasons for the war in the first place. For Russia, NATO-aligned troops in Ukraine remains a core cause of the war, not a negotiable detail.
The fact is, the elusiveness of peace is fundamentally a political problem reflective of the fact that the war is the result of a coalition mobilised by the U.S. over many years, since Bush Junior opened the door to Ukrainian membership of NATO in 2008. Having mobilised a coalition, involving European countries backing the training and arming of Ukraine as operational proxy, we now confront a situation in which the coalition displays fragmented purpose and interests. The coalition cannot be readily controlled from one single point, and in fact, exhibits fragmented interests and drivers.
While Russia operates with relative unity of purpose, the “non-Russia” side - encompassing Ukraine, Western Europe (including the UK) and the United States - is increasingly fractured by competing interests, incoherent strategies and contradictory readings of battlefield reality. Until these contradictions are resolved, a meaningful settlement will remain elusive.
Despite Western portrayals of fragility, Russia’s goals are stable: secure its strategic perimeter, prevent Ukraine becoming a NATO outpost, and weaken nationalist forces. Debates over whether to push further or pursue regime change are tactical, not existential. State, economy and society remain aligned.
The “non-Russia” side, by contrast, is a cacophony of competing voices.
In Ukraine itself, the divide is stark. On one side stand hardline nationalists for whom compromise is unthinkable. Any settlement short of full territorial restoration is betrayal. On the other side is the broader Ukrainian public, exhausted by war and increasingly open to peace. Polling from Gallup suggests that nearly 70 percent of the population now favours negotiations.
President Zelensky finds himself caught between these poles. His political survival depends on continued Western support and keeping the nationalist forces on side. Any overt move toward compromise risks backlash from nationalist factions who retain real power on the ground, despite the evident shift in overall public opinion. The Ukrainian state’s room for maneuver is therefore narrower than many outside observers appreciate.
Europe is no less divided. Brussels elites have bound themselves to Washington’s original neocon-inspired strategic framing of the war as a global struggle between democracy and autocracy. Within that narrative, compromise is heresy. Several member states openly dissent, but they are in the minority. Hungary and Slovakia advocate for an end to hostilities and the need for a negotiated settlement.
At the same time, we see in Western Europe electoral pressures that may be pushing leaders toward realism. Across the continent, populations are restive. Inflation, energy insecurity and stagnant growth are eroding public support for a prolonged war. For ordinary Europeans, Ukraine is no longer an existential cause but a drain on already fragile living standards. The gap between elite rhetoric and popular sentiment is widening.
The U.S., meanwhile, is caught between its global ambitions, its domestic fatigue not to mention material constraints. The military-industrial complex has benefitted from the conflict, as have hawkish policy makers for whom Ukraine is the forward line of a renewed Cold War. For them, sustaining the war keeps Europe disciplined within NATO and prevents Russia from consolidating its sphere of influence. It’s all about weakening Russia, with an ultimate objective of Balkanising Russia permanently.
But even within the U.S., coherence is lacking. President Donald Trump vacillates between NATO skepticism and hawkish bluster. He is at times pulled by the MAGA instincts of “not fighting other people’s wars” and at other times, the pressures of upholding American primacy and status on the global stage. Some Republican voters are hostile to “forever wars,” while Democrats remain divided between humanitarian rhetoric and realpolitik concerns about escalation. Others retain deep hostility towards Russia. Inside the Beltway, the political elite - especially in the Senate - remain committed to defeating Russia. Others see Europe as a distraction.
Hovering above all this is the bigger strategic question: does Washington still see its long-term interest in anchoring itself to Europe via NATO, or is the gravitational pull of Asia now too strong? If the latter, then sustaining Ukraine indefinitely is arguably a distraction, not a priority. There are administration voices that argue for this pivot. Others demur.
When Trump speaks of peace, the real test is whether he would actually end arms supplies to Ukraine - directly or indirectly, whether free or paid for. Vice President J.D. Vance recently said that if the Europeans wanted to continue the war in Ukraine, the U.S. would oblige by selling arms. Trump too has made a point of no longer “giving” military support but of selling it.
Yet, while military supply lines persist, “peace” talk amounts to little more than reducing U.S. material exposure without payment, while leaving Europe locked into the same war trajectory. A skeptic might see this as nothing more than a division of labour: Washington stepping back from frontline financing so that it can redirect resources to the Middle East and Asia, while leaving Europe to manage the Ukrainian burden within the NATO framework.
Politics aside, battlefield reality is decisive: Russia is prevailing. Ukraine is losing men at unsustainable rates, losing land faster than ever, and relying on emergency conscription. Western supply chains cannot match the pace of attrition. Ukraine burns through men, machines, and munitions faster than the West can replenish. Russia, by contrast, has ramped up production, mobilised reserves, and adapted to sanctions. Time favours Moscow.
Western responses fall into three camps:
● Denialists insist Russia is weaker, sanctions will bite, and perseverance will yield collapse. Denialists simply refuse to concede that Russia is winning on the battlefield. This view is less credible today.
● Conditional Optimists admit Ukraine struggles but argue the solution is always “more”: more shells, missiles, air defence. Add to this more sanctions and Russia will be brought to heel.
● Negotiators-with-Leverage accept Russia cannot be defeated but argue Ukraine must be armed to improve its bargaining position. In practice, however, continued war only weakens Kiev’s hand.
All three defer the recognition that Ukraine cannot win militarily. By blaming insufficient Western will, elites avoid advocating negotiations.
This is the paradox of the war. Russia negotiates as a unitary actor. The West acts as a divided chorus. Ukraine’s nationalists veto compromise; Brussels elites cling to ideology; Washington hawks and defence industries profit; European publics and parts of the U.S. electorate want peace but lack power. Each faction finds reasons to resist settlement even as battlefield realities render continued war untenable.
For peace to emerge, one or more veto players must yield. This could mean:
● Ukrainian public pressure overwhelming nationalist factions;
● A U.S. pivot to Asia reducing Ukraine’s priority;
● European elections forcing governments to defy Brussels; or
● Recognition in Washington and Brussels that prolonging the war worsens the West’s hand.
Without such shifts, the status quo sustains war by default.
Maybe we are seeing the emergence of a recognition of battlefield reality. The Anchorage summit wouldn’t have happened had the west been winning. Reports from the meeting of the western leaders in Washington are, however, light on detail. Talk of security guarantees remains vague at best, and perhaps lend themselves to more wishful thinking than a real peace settlement. Trump has ruled out a ceasefire and NATO membership for Ukraine. But sneaking in de facto NATO membership seems to be what the Europeans are angling for.
This is unlikely to fly.
True peace would require something more ambitious: a new European security architecture acknowledging Russia’s concerns as well as Ukraine’s and Europe’s, reducing dependence on U.S. grand strategy. Russia proposed a treaty with the US and an agreement with NATO in December 2021. The core issues contained in these draft documents must be addressed if a viable peace is to be achieved. Anything less risks perpetuating the conflict in another form.
