Elusive Peace


The renewed talk of peace in Ukraine carries an air of exhaustion rather than optimism. After years of attrition, all sides speak the language of negotiation, yet the distance between words and reality remains vast. What is often described as a handful of “thorny issues” is, in truth, a set of foundational disagreements about territory, security and legitimacy that cannot be smoothed over by diplomatic sequencing alone. At the heart of the impasse lies eastern Ukraine. Control over Donbas is not simply about lines on a map; it is about law, identity, and the precedent set for future borders.

For Kyiv, surrendering territory would mean legitimising conquest and abandoning citizens who still live under bombardment. For Moscow, partial withdrawal would undercut a war narrative that has been legally and politically locked into place. Any formula that postpones this contradiction rather than resolving it risks freezing the conflict without truly ending it. The debate over the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant, Europe’s largest such plant, reinforces this dilemma. Technical solutions ~ joint management, international oversight, revenue-sharing ~ sound plausible in isolation. But nuclear infrastructure is inseparable from sovereignty and trust. Without confidence in intentions, shared control becomes another battleground rather than a bridge.

The plant’s continued shutdown is itself a symbol of paralysis: too dangerous to operate, too valuable to relinquish. External mediation adds urgency but not clarity. US President Donald Trump presents himself as a dealmaker impatient with stalemate, yet speed is a poor substitute for consent. Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelenskky cannot accept an agreement that lacks democratic legitimacy or credible security guarantees. Russian President Vladimir Putin, meanwhile, appears to calculate that time, attrition, and military pressure may still yield more than compromise. Each actor is constrained by domestic politics, legal commitments and strategic narratives that make retreat costly. The question of trust looms over every proposal. Accusations, denials, and counterclaims continue even as negotiations advance, suggesting that both sides are preparing for failure as much as success. In such an environment, ceasefires are viewed not as confidence-building measures but as tactical pauses. This mutual suspicion ensures that even small concessions are interpreted as weakness rather than goodwill.

Calls for a popular vote in Ukraine expose the final fault line. A referendum could anchor any settlement in public consent, yet organising one requires a degree of stability that the war itself has eroded. Opponents see this as delay; supporters see it as the only way to prevent a peace that collapses under its own illegitimacy. The uncomfortable truth is that peace is being discussed not because the core issues have softened, but because the costs of continuing the war have become unbearable. Until the fundamental clash between territorial ambition and sovereign consent is addressed, negotiations may deliver a pause ~ but not the peace that Ukrainians, Russians and the wider world desperately seek.