Authored by Professor Amelia Hadfield and Margaryta Khostova. Professor Amelia Hadfield is the Founder and Director of the Centre for Britain and Europe, which was founded in 2020, within the Department of Politics and International Relations at the University of Surrey. Margaryta Khostova is a PhD Candidate in Politics in the same department.
Russia’s renewed push for a peace deal with Ukraine comes at a time of acute vulnerability for Kyiv and unmistakable opportunity for Moscow. Presented as a pragmatic path to end the war, the proposal instead reveals itself as a highly strategic manoeuvre by the Kremlin to cement gains, fracture Ukraine internally, and reconfigure Europe’s security landscape to Russia’s long-term advantage. For European and UK policymakers, understanding the nature of this proposal and the coercive context in which it is being floated is crucial. Far from guaranteeing stability, accepting such a deal would in its present form expose the continent to greater risk.
An opportunistic and politically calculated moment
The timing of Russia’s move is anything but accidental. Ukraine is simultaneously grappling with two crises: a major corruption scandal and a continuous energy emergency as Russian missiles systematically destroy the country’s electricity infrastructure. While the corruption exposures demonstrate that Ukraine’s anti-corruption efforts are stronger than ever, they nonetheless tarnish Zelensky’s reputation, as they have exposed individuals close to the president. Russia’s “offer” exploits this domestic turbulence and the mounting pressure on Kyiv’s leadership.
The deal itself is riddled with odd, even unserious, formulations. Provisions such as a requirement that Ukraine refrain from striking Moscow or St Petersburg raise immediate questions: why those two cities specifically, and what about other Russian targets? These phrases lack diplomatic sophistication and betray an author more concerned with political theatre than genuine statecraft.
Perhaps most tellingly, the core terms have barely shifted since Russia’s March 2022 demands. Apart from token adjustments, there is little indication of compromise. This stagnation underscores that Moscow is not negotiating in good faith but rather attempting to freeze the war on conditions favourable to its strategic objectives.
Finally, a big elephant in the room is the evidence of the Kremlin’s authorship that surfaced in leaked Bloomberg recordings of conversations between Steve Witkoff and Yury Ushakov, a senior advisor to Vladimir Putin. These leaks strongly suggest that the document was written in Moscow and then presented as if it originated from the American side, a calculated attempt to increase pressure on Kyiv by creating the perception of US endorsement.
A deal designed to control, not to resolve
Beyond territorial issues, several provisions reveal a deeper objective: reshaping Ukraine from within to secure a permanent Russian political lever. Clauses relating to language and religious rights are not benign. They revive the Kremlin’s long-standing narrative of defending “Russian speakers” and protecting “traditional spiritual ties.” These arguments have repeatedly served as a pretext for interference and destabilisation. Embedding such ideas in a formal settlement would institutionalise Russia’s ability to disrupt Ukrainian politics indefinitely.
For Ukraine, rejecting the terms outright is dangerous, not because the deal has merit, but because the country’s security assistance from the United States hangs in the balance. Kyiv has attempted to work within the framework of the proposal solely to improve its terms, aware that refusal could risk not only weapons but also critical intelligence support. Losing access to US intelligence at this stage of the war can be catastrophic.
Ukrainian diplomats have nevertheless succeeded in achieving limited modifications. Sergiy Kyslytsya, Ukraine’s ambassador to the UN, told the Financial Times that Washington appeared willing to drop a proposed 600,000-person cap on the Ukrainian armed forces, a restriction that would have severely undermined national defence. In addition, there might have been changes to the proposed limits on NATO personnel in Ukraine.
These amendments, however, do not alter Ukraine’s core red lines. Kyiv cannot accept any agreement that recognises Russia’s annexations or compromises its territorial integrity. Nor will Ukraine agree to provisions that constrain its future defence, predetermine its geopolitical alignment, or set the limits for eventual integration into the EU and NATO. Security guarantees must be credible and binding, not rhetorical gestures that leave Ukraine vulnerable. And any durable settlement must include mechanisms for prosecuting war crimes, not sweeping amnesties that erase justice for victims.
These principles are fundamentally incompatible with Russia’s demands. The limited changes achieved so far highlight the broader imbalance: Ukraine is fighting for marginal protections while Russia seeks substantial concessions that would leave Ukraine weakened and strategically dependent. This dynamic points not toward a stable resolution but toward a pressured ceasefire that risks trapping Ukraine in a position of long-term insecurity.
Crucially, Russia’s approach is guided by a clear strategic belief: if it cannot dominate on the battlefield, it can secure favourable terms at the negotiating table. This confidence explains the rigidity of Moscow’s positions and its insistence on codifying territorial gains. The very fact that Russia demands it underscores why the current proposal cannot serve as the basis for a legitimate peace. It does not end the war but seeks to legitimise the aggression that began it.
What it means for European and UK security
For Europe and the UK, the stakes extend far beyond Ukraine’s sovereignty. Accepting such a deal would set a dangerous precedent in international law by effectively legitimising territorial conquest and political coercion. It would signal that the international community is prepared to welcome Russia back into institutions such as the G7 and potentially tolerate future military interventions under the guise of “protecting Russian speakers.”
Moreover, any truce on these terms would give Russia exactly what it needs: time. Its economy is under strain, with growing indicators of structural failure, one reason the Kremlin is suddenly so eager for negotiations. A pause would allow Moscow to rebuild stockpiles, shift further into a wartime economy, and prepare for the next phase of confrontation. There is little evidence to suggest that Russia’s long-term ambitions have changed; in fact, its rhetoric about conflict with the West has become more aggressive. To believe that this agreement would make Europe safer is naïve. Quite the opposite: it would re-empower Russia, erode deterrence, and destabilise the security order that has underpinned European peace for decades.
One of Europe’s most powerful tools is the proposed €140 billion “reparations loan” funded by frozen Russian central bank assets held largely in Belgium. This plan, legally contested but increasingly urgent, could transform Ukraine’s finances and restore its ability to fight. The EU must decide whether to move first on asset confiscation or find alternative funding. Either decision requires political will, but delaying will only strengthen Moscow’s hand.
Europe and the UK must also adopt a more hard-headed outlook and prepare for scenarios in which US commitment becomes uncertain. The immediate priority is to pre-empt any potential Trump-Putin summit that might seek to impose a settlement on Ukraine without meaningful European involvement. Remaining passive would be a serious strategic mistake. Europe must acknowledge the possibility of having to support Ukraine with significantly reduced American backing. This means accelerating defence-industrial expansion, establishing durable military aid frameworks, deepening UK-EU security cooperation, and reinforcing credible deterrence. The prospect of an unjust or imposed peace only heightens the urgency of these preparations.
As the EU High Representative for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy, Kaja Kallas, has warned, “We still need to get from a situation where Russia pretends to negotiate to a situation where they need to negotiate.” Only when Russia faces real pressure will meaningful negotiations become possible. Until then, any purported “peace deal” remains an instrument of coercion, not a pathway to genuine stability.
Next Steps?
In sum, the current diplomacy between Russia and Ukraine — far from heralding peace — demonstrates a carefully calibrated manoeuvre by Moscow, aided by elements within the U.S. and enabled by fractures across Europe. As the IISS analysis argues, the flurry of diplomatic activity generated by the recently leaked 28-point plan marks “the third major international attempt to regulate Russian–Ukrainian security relations,” yet it is “more chaotic than either” of its predecessors.
Crucially, Reuters reporting confirms that the 28-point draft was drawn directly from a Russian “non-paper,” originally submitted to Washington — meaning the document reflects Russian priorities more than a genuine compromise.
That raises fundamental questions about whose interests this “peace” serves. For Kyiv, and for European partners, the result is pressure to accept terms that Russia wrote — all while Moscow continues its campaign of attrition on the battlefield and against Ukrainian infrastructure.
Though recent Geneva talks reportedly pared the plan down to a 19-point framework after pushback from Ukraine and Europe, the core structural problems remain. Notably, the draft still enshrines a ceiling on Ukraine’s armed forces, bans NATO membership indefinitely, and formalises Russia’s control over occupied territories — all while offering vague, non-binding “security guarantees.
From Moscow’s perspective, this is the perfect outcome: codifying territorial gains, neutralising Ukraine’s military potential, imposing diplomatic restraints, and buying time — time to rebuild depleted stockpiles, restore economic stability, and wait for Western resolve to wane. IISS experts are blunt: this iteration of diplomacy is less a peace process and more “turbulent diplomacy” — marked by confusion, contradictory signals, and shifting alliances, designed to freeze the war in Russia’s favour.
For Kyiv, capitulating now would mean surrendering not only territory, but sovereignty and strategic independence — leaving the country permanently vulnerable to future Russian coercion. For EU states and the UK, acceptance would – intentionally or not – set a dangerous precedent: that territorial conquest can be legitimised, and great-power bullying rewarded. It would undermine decades of work in upholding international law and risk embedding a fragile ceasefire that is more a cease-fire of convenience than a sustainable peace.
Finally, the fact that diplomacy continues in parallel with ongoing missile and drone strikes on Ukrainian cities shows just how hollow the prospects for a lasting settlement remain so long as Moscow feels no pressure to compromise. As IISS and others warn, this turbulent diplomacy must not be mistaken for real diplomacy — until Russia is forced to negotiate seriously, any “deal” remains a trap, not a resolution.
