A senior European diplomat familiar with the peace efforts expressed deep skepticism about the current negotiations, telling Military Times that the process has lost all legitimacy. “There’s simply no credibility left,” the official said bluntly. “It’s absurd.”
Speaking anonymously due to the sensitivity of the talks, the diplomat described weeks of what he called an exhausting and futile diplomatic effort. According to him, the initiative has revolved around damage control, public messaging, and constantly shifting draft proposals—forcing Ukraine and its European supporters to go through the motions despite circulating demands that Kyiv cannot realistically accept.
“There’s no finesse or strategy here,” he said. “This isn’t serious deal-making.”
The confusion began with a leak. On Nov. 20, as President Donald Trump publicly hinted at a Thanksgiving deadline for a deal, Axios published a leaked 28-point peace framework. Almost immediately, different actors began portraying the document in wildly different ways—variously as a starting proposal, a near-final agreement, or a pressure tactic so lopsided that critics likened it to psychological or information warfare.
Ukraine responded cautiously. Kyiv avoided public confrontation, offered minimal commentary, and refused to engage in the leak-driven narrative, while its allies struggled to decipher what the process actually signaled.
By early December, tensions surfaced. Der Spiegel released a leaked transcript of a private European leaders’ call that sounded less like coordination and more like crisis management.
French President Emmanuel Macron warned that the United States might “betray Ukraine on territorial issues,” language later contested by the Élysée. German Chancellor Friedrich Merz accused Washington of “playing games” with both Ukraine and Europe. Finnish President Alexander Stubb was even more direct, saying, “We cannot leave Ukraine and Volodymyr Zelenskyy alone with these people.”
Days later, clarity—of a sort—emerged. Following several days of U.S.–Ukraine talks in Miami, Washington formalized its evolving stance in a revised National Security Strategy. The document emphasized “strategic stability with Russia” and rejected the notion of NATO as an ever-expanding alliance. Moscow welcomed the framing, even as it dismissed key elements of the peace effort itself.
For military leaders, the uncertainty was not merely political. Shortly after the Miami talks, Russia launched one of its largest combined assaults of the war, firing 653 drones and 51 missiles—primarily targeting Ukraine’s energy infrastructure, according to Ukrainian officials.
As the war drags into its fourth year, the so-called peace process is already shaping real military decisions on force posture and long-term capability planning.
By Dec. 7, the messaging shifted again—this time toward deliberate unpredictability. At the Doha Forum, Donald Trump Jr. was asked whether his father might abandon the talks entirely.
“I think he might,” he said, arguing that Trump’s unpredictability forces others to negotiate more honestly.
With draft proposals continuing to leak and deadlines slipping, the resulting ambiguity is now influencing battlefield calculations. The likely outcome, the European diplomat warned, is not a durable peace but a disorderly ceasefire—one that freezes current lines, gives Russia time to regroup, and forces Europe to prepare for the next phase of the conflict with U.S. support no longer assured.
This volatility hits logistics first: whether to ship equipment now or hold back, whether to plan for a lull or brace for another winter of strikes.
Ian Kelly, a former U.S. ambassador and senior State Department official, described the situation as chaotic. “It’s like a pinball machine inside the president’s head,” he told Military Times. “You never know where the ball is going to land.”
The Miami talks illustrate this confusion. Public claims of progress have outpaced the understanding of officials on both sides of the Atlantic, leaving many uncertain about what Washington is truly offering, what Moscow might concede, and what guarantees the U.S. is actually prepared to provide.
President Zelenskyy has remained deliberately measured, calling the talks “constructive but difficult” and emphasizing that U.S. envoys understand Ukraine’s core red lines, while noting that some issues require face-to-face discussion.
Defense Minister Rustem Umerov echoed that sentiment, saying the Ukrainian delegation’s priority was to fully understand what the Americans had discussed in Moscow and to review all current draft proposals before briefing Zelenskyy.
Ukrainian diplomats have also tried to counter media speculation. Deputy Foreign Minister Serhiy Kyslytsya dismissed conspiracy theories, saying he was encouraged by the Americans’ understanding of Ukraine’s position and stressed the importance of continued U.S. engagement.
Meanwhile, the Kremlin has projected confidence. Russian envoy Kirill Dmitriev praised the talks as “productive,” even while acknowledging unresolved issues. President Vladimir Putin later lashed out at European leaders during a defense ministry meeting, mocking them and blaming the war on the previous U.S. administration.
These statements came just hours after U.S. officials claimed that negotiators had resolved roughly 90% of their differences, including consensus on “NATO-like” security guarantees.
According to Kelly, the peace process itself has become a tool of leverage—determining who is consulted, who is sidelined, and who believes they can simply wait out the other side.
Europe, he argued, must now assume that U.S. backing is uncertain. He said he could not recall a comparable breakdown in transatlantic coordination on European security since World War II.
For military planners, such diplomatic instability immediately affects force planning—what equipment gets deployed, what is delayed, and how deterrence is communicated while Russia probes for weakness.
“The talks are essentially a strategic tug-of-war,” the European diplomat said, with the key unknown being Washington’s ultimate position.
Kelly believes the Kremlin feels emboldened, convinced it is winning militarily despite slow advances, high casualties, and enormous economic costs—while viewing the West as divided and ineffective.
“There’s no incentive for Putin to compromise until that calculation changes,” Kelly said.
Many officials argue the current signals of Western hesitation encourage Moscow to wait rather than negotiate seriously. At best, the diplomat said, the outcome may be a fragile ceasefire with limited benefits.
Such a pause would not reduce the burden on Europe—it would merely shift it toward enforcement, resupply, and long-term deterrence planning. For Europe, a “post-ceasefire” scenario would simply mark the next phase of the war.
Even now, draft proposals continue to multiply. Ukrainian officials have submitted a revised 20-point framework alongside separate documents addressing security guarantees and economic reconstruction. U.S. officials have floated “Article 5-like” guarantees short of NATO membership, though enforcement remains politically uncertain.
The constant evolution of the documents underscores the core problem: while public rhetoric suggests closure, negotiators are still debating fundamentals.
Secretary of State Marco Rubio has called the proposal a “living document,” changing daily with new input. Some lawmakers have been more blunt. Senator Angus King said Rubio acknowledged that an earlier draft resembled a Russian wish list—a view echoed privately by European officials.
For Ukraine, the issue is not merely political but legal. International law experts advising Kyiv argue that any agreement reached under military coercion—particularly one involving territorial concessions—would be legally void.
“There is no scenario in which Ukraine can legally recognize the transfer of its land,” the diplomat said. Any such provision would lack legitimacy from the outset.
That legal reality explains why every word in the drafts matters. The language battle is also a fight over future leverage—political, military, and diplomatic.
The consequences are already visible. Ukraine is grappling with a major corruption scandal tied to its energy sector, while battlefield assessments remain mixed. U.S. officials have warned privately of dire risks, even as Ukraine claims significant tactical successes and Russia’s territorial control has shrunk since early 2022.
Despite competing narratives, no stable deal appears imminent. Instead, power is being redistributed through draft agreements, vague guarantees, and political pressure, with Kyiv and Europe pushing back against both Washington and Moscow over what an acceptable future security order should look like.
That, the diplomat said, is the true credibility crisis. Declaring “progress” while security guarantees remain undefined creates real-world consequences long before any agreement is finalized.
A ceasefire built on such shaky foundations would not end the war, he warned. Instead, it could widen the conflict—turning it into a global contest over deterrence, endurance, and power among Russia, China, Europe, and the United States. Ultimately, the question becomes who is willing to enforce red lines—and whether the Kremlin believes the Western coalition will actually stand by them.
