Opinion article
By Tomáš Iliev
The war in Ukraine (Russian aggression), which is now in its fourth year, has evolved into a dangerous conflict that has placed European security at risk and forced Ukraine to fight for its survival and territorial sovereignty. The latest turn in the war came at the Trump-Putin meeting in Alaska, where Russia’s president suggested a new peace plan. Putin says that Ukraine should give up the rest of the Donbas territory, stop trying to join NATO, become neutral and not allow Western troops into the country. In exchange, Russia would keep some of the territory of the Kharkiv, Sumy, and Dnipropetrovsk regions. Moscow thinks these claims are the start of a peace agreement that could work. However, Kyiv and its Western partners view this as a plan to weaken Ukraine and as a means for Moscow to become stronger.
The Russian invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 took the world by surprise. Moscow expected it would be a lightning strike on Kyiv, but it turned out to be one of the most serious miscalculations in recent military history. Ukraine demonstrated real grit, aided by some Western militaries, and pushed back against Russia’s initial assault. By the close of 2022, Ukraine had retaken the Kharkiv region and half of Kherson, leading individuals to believe that further breakouts would follow. However, by mid-2023, the war was very much bogged down, especially in eastern Ukraine, with Russian defences and Ukraine’s comparative lack of resources creating a circumstance in which it was difficult to achieve any significant advance. There were additional turns in 2024-25 – Russia launched new offensives in the north east, like an assault on Sumy, but these stalled because of strong Ukrainian resistance. In the meantime, however, Ukraine’s army was reeling from various setbacks, like a shortage of soldiers, devastation of their infrastructure, and an energy crisis brought about by relentless Russian assaults. Even with these challenges, Ukraine maintained control of most of its territory outside the Donbas, which Russia mostly occupies (Russia occupies nearly the whole Luhansk region and three-quarters of the Donetsk region).
Ukraine’s resilience was not simply military but social as well. Millions of civilians endured barrages of missile fire, forced displacement, and economic hardship. Yet repeatedly, opinion polls showed an overwhelming majority opposed to conceding territory since the start of the invasion in 2022. The conflict had become existential for the state, but also for Ukrainian identity per se. The idea of neutrality, once seriously considered before 2014, had evaporated in response to Russia’s repeated aggression. This departure from neutrality is not founded merely on security needs but on gained memory. For Ukrainians, neutrality during the early 1990s could not prevent Moscow from intruding and applying economic coercion, energy blackmail, and covert action. The annexation of Crimea in 2014 confirmed that neutrality did not yield any promise. The invasion of 2022 cemented that lesson into doctrine: existence for Ukraine required entry into the Euro-Atlantic sphere.
In this context, international diplomacy once again gained momentum. Donald Trump’s return to the White House in January 2025 opened up a fresh negotiating channel. Trump called himself the politician who would “end the war quickly”, and Europe did not want to commit to any quick deal that would jeopardise Ukraine’s sovereignty. These tensions laid the ground for Trump’s meeting with Putin at the Alaska summit in August 2025. Once a Russian colony purchased by America in 1867, it represented the deep historical entwinement and the competition for strategy between Washington and Moscow. For Trump, inviting Putin to such a historically crucial place was a moment to debut his personal diplomacy. For Putin, it was a chance to reaffirm the centrality of Russia in global affairs. The summit was held behind closed doors, but there have been enough leaks to reconstruct its broad outline. Trump was emphasising the necessity for a quick fix, positioning himself as a deal-maker who could do what Biden and the leaders of Europe had failed to do. Putin seized the moment to present his terms, cloaked as a compromise but in reality designed to solidify Russia’s military gains. While no agreement was signed, Putin offered his vision of how the war would end. Trump, being Trump, called it a “reasonable proposal worth considering”, but did not fully agree to it. The leaders of Europe, especially in Berlin, Paris, and Warsaw, responded with anxiety, warning that premature concessions would encourage aggression and undermine the sovereignty of Ukraine.
According to leaks from U.S. and EU sources, Putin’s offer contains four main demands. Firstly, Ukraine would formally cede the remaining Donetsk and Luhansk regions still in Kyiv’s possession, acknowledging Russia’s complete sovereignty in the Donbas. Secondly, Ukraine would abandon NATO membership as a strategic priority, embracing instead a policy of long-term neutrality. Also, Kyiv would pledge not to host Western bases or troops, and foreign involvement would be limited to non-lethal training and humanitarian aid. And Russia, in turn, would cease offensive operations and withdraw from some occupied territory in Kharkiv, Sumy, and Dnipropetrovsk, effectively creating a frozen conflict on new frontiers. On paper, the agreement is a ceasefire deal. In practice, it enshrines Russia’s gains in the war, demilitarises Ukraine, and entrenches Moscow’s influence.
Donbas is not merely a territory, it is Ukraine’s quest for self-determination. To lose it would mean confirming Russia’s occupation and the Kremlin’s use of force in manipulating borders. It would set a precedent that would invite yet more aggression, not only in Ukraine, but throughout Europe. Donbas itself contains vital industrial resources, energy grids, and transit pipelines, and so is of economic value. For Ukraine, to surrender would be not only a moral failure but also a strategic one. The historical value of Donbas matters as well. Since 2014, when Russia first ignited the separatist uprisings in Donetsk and Luhansk, these territories have been contested not simply on a battlefield but on an identity front. To abandon Donbas would, for Ukrainians, be to leave their fellow citizens to the authoritarian influence of Moscow. The implications are drawn further – if Donbas is deserted, why shouldn’t Moscow demand Kharkiv or Odesa some years later?
Russia’s demand that Ukraine abandon the offer of NATO membership attacks the heart of Kyiv’s security policy. Since 2014, Ukraine has been moving towards Euro-Atlantic integration because neutrality left it susceptible to Russian blackmail. Without NATO protection or even binding security guarantees from Western countries, Ukraine would forever be in the shadow of having to endure repeated invasion once again. As Ukrainian officials argue, neutrality is no armour; it is an open door to aggression. Additionally, the NATO membership pledge in the constitution represents a national consensus established after 2014. Polls show Ukrainians’ backing for NATO has never been stronger. Withdrawal at this stage would damage not just national security but also go against popular will. Preventing Western deployment would also further isolate Ukraine from a military standpoint. While NATO membership remains in the wings for now, the mere presence of Western advisers, trainers, and even rotational forces sends a deterrent signal. Cutting that option out would compel Ukraine to be dependent on its own stretched resources alone, precisely what Moscow desires. Even if Ukraine were to agree on sanctions, one can’t guarantee that Russia would keep its word. Moscow has always been a promise-breaker from the 1994 Budapest Memorandum, where Ukraine’s sovereignty was guaranteed in exchange for giving up nuclear weapons, to the Minsk accords, which failed to end the war in Donbas. Counting on Russia to maintain a territorial freeze would be foolish geopolitics.
Most capital cities in Europe recognise that the fate of Ukraine is tied to that of their own. If Russia succeeds in asserting its will by violence, the entire post-Cold War international system is undermined. Poland and the Baltic republics, already wary of Moscow, argue that appeasement would give the Kremlin licence to challenge NATO across the board. For France and Germany, the situation is more critical, as they research how to balance calls for peace and the reality that a bad deal would make the situation even more unstable. The EU also faces domestic pressures. With rising economic costs of supporting Ukraine and populist movements inquiring into burden-sharing, there is a rising temptation to balance a flawed peace deal. But others, such as Estonia, warn that concessions to Putin’s threats would only purchase fleeting peace at the price of long-term security. The Trump administration remains uncertain. While Trump boasts about being able to “end the war”, his reluctance to pledge American resources leads Europeans to question. Trump reportedly is ready to settle for a European-led security guarantee arrangement, in which the U.S. would contribute only limited air power. This creates opportunities and risks alike – while Europe could take on more responsibility for securing Ukraine, the absence of a firm American commitment reduces deterrence. There are intense debates in the U.S. There are lawmakers who argue that abandoning Ukraine would be a victory for Moscow and damage American credibility elsewhere in the world. Others argue that indefinite support drains resources that could be better spent at home. These tensions complicate it for Kyiv to obtain enduring Western support.
For Kyiv, the arithmetic is dire. Bending to Putin’s terms would end the war in the short term but at the cost of sovereignty, deterrence, and long-term security. Declining them means continuing to fight, with all the human and economic sacrifices. However, most Ukrainians, hardened by decades of resistance, are ready to take the second step. As President Volodymyr Zelensky has reiterated, no peace can be there at the cost of national dismemberment. The final flaw in Putin’s offer is that Russia’s appetite would be satisfied through territory. History has taught us otherwise. Russia’s invasion of Georgia in 2008, annexation of Crimea in 2014, and full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022 illustrate a stark pattern – territorial forays are not destinations but stepping stones. Sacrificing Donbas would not end Russia’s ambition to dominate Ukraine. It would only whet it. With Donbas in its pocket, Moscow can retreat, rearm, and prepare to make another push, maybe on Kyiv itself. And besides, the logic of deterrence holds – a rewarded Russia for aggression is a rewarded Russia for further aggression. Only credible security guarantees, backed by NATO and Western capitals, can ensure Ukraine’s long-term survival.
Apart from geopolitical concerns, there is also the human cost of life. There are millions of Ukrainians displaced both inside and outside the country. Mariupol and Bakhmut are in ruins, their citizens scattered. For those who remain under occupation, the prospect of Russian rule for eternity is detestable. Stories of domination, deportations, and forced assimilation emerge sporadically from occupied areas. Submission to Putin’s demands would condemn millions of Ukrainians to such a life. Economically, Ukraine faces a daunting task of recovery. The EU has pledged billions to the budget shortfall in 2026, but reconstruction will run hundreds of billions more. Conceding Donbas would not only lose its valuable industrial capacity, but also shatter investor confidence that Ukraine is a worthwhile long-term alternative. A frozen war would discourage international firms from investing in rebuilding. The economic and humanitarian considerations merely add weight to the strategic argument – concessions do not mean stability, but gaining vulnerability.
Another typically overlooked element of Putin’s proposal is the domestic political price in Ukraine. Any Ukrainian politician who would sign away Donbas or abandon all considerations of NATO membership would face gigantic widespread outrage and risk political collapse. The Ukrainian people have become increasingly politically unified on the idea of sovereignty and integration into Europe since 2022. Concessions would not only shatter domestic consensus but also risk galvanising pro-Russian elements who still exist on the margins. Kremlin policy has always relied not only on outside use of force but also on destabilisation from within. By demanding neutrality and restrictions on alliances, Putin wishes to destroy Ukraine both from within and without.
Diplomatically, the Alaska summit helped to emphasise the global stakes in the war. China, while officially neutral, watched closely. Beijing has an interest in Russian clashes with the West, but also an interest in preventing uncontrolled destabilisation. For Beijing, a frozen conflict is the best option, as it keeps U.S. and European resources tied down while maintaining Russia as an ally. Even China, though, will not fully buy Putin’s maximalist conditions, lest China face international pushback. Other actors, from India to Turkey, engage in this process to defend their own interests, often working between Moscow and the West. The global south sees Ukraine not only as a local conflict but also as a test of principles: whether small and medium-sized states will respect their sovereignty, or whether great powers can redraw borders by violence.
Putin’s Alaska scheme is no peace proposal; it is a policy of coercion in diplomatic attire. It aims to enshrine Russia’s conquests, strip Ukraine of its security relations, and entangle the country in a position of weakness. For Ukraine, such a treaty would not be peace but a pause until the next conflict. The challenge for Western policymakers is to resist the seduction of easy solutions. Peace cannot be obtained at the cost of security and justice. Ukraine requires ongoing support, not only militarily but also economically and diplomatically, to withstand the pressure from Russia. Any treaty must preserve Ukraine’s sovereignty, restore its territorial integrity, and establish it in a secure environment. The Alaska summit demonstrated just how much is at stake. It is not a matter of Ukraine’s border, but of the future of the European order. To yield now would be to send the message that force pays. To resist is to affirm the principle that borders cannot be altered through violence. For Ukraine, for Europe, and for the integrity of the West, the choice must be clear.