Russia’s war against Ukraine has consistently defied expectations. Ukraine did not quickly fall in 2022, nor did it achieve the decisive breakthrough that many predicted in 2023. Today, a new expectation is taking hold: The war is ripe for a negotiated settlement.
At first glance, this logic appears sound. Russia is bogged down and paying an enormous price: It has incurred more than 1.2 million casualties and military spending consumes roughly half of its public budget. Ukraine, meanwhile, faces immense human and economic strain and cannot yet liberate its territory. The war is widely viewed as a stalemate, and both sides seem to have incentives to stop fighting.
Russia’s war against Ukraine has consistently defied expectations. Ukraine did not quickly fall in 2022, nor did it achieve the decisive breakthrough that many predicted in 2023. Today, a new expectation is taking hold: The war is ripe for a negotiated settlement.
At first glance, this logic appears sound. Russia is bogged down and paying an enormous price: It has incurred more than 1.2 million casualties and military spending consumes roughly half of its public budget. Ukraine, meanwhile, faces immense human and economic strain and cannot yet liberate its territory. The war is widely viewed as a stalemate, and both sides seem to have incentives to stop fighting.
But like other expectations before it, this one rests on a misunderstanding of the war’s underlying dynamics.
The central issue is not just the balance on the battlefield. Rather, it is the nature of the Russian regime and the war’s rapidly changing character. Today, the war is not merely a tool of Russian policy; it has become foundational to the regime itself. The Russian economy has been restructured around wartime production, and the regime’s political legitimacy increasingly depends on its ability to deliver the war’s publicly stated goals. A strong, independent Ukraine is incompatible with Russia’s long-term strategy. A Ukraine that is rebuilding, integrating into the European Union, and closely aligned with NATO—regardless of formal membership—would become a central pillar of European security. For Moscow, this outcome is unacceptable. Ending the war without achieving its strategic objectives would directly threaten Putin’s regime.
This is why Ukrainians do not believe that painful concessions will achieve lasting peace. It is not that they think a better deal might be available; it is that they do not believe any deal will be durable. There are no realistic indications that the Kremlin is remotely willing to abandon its goal of subjugating Ukraine, nor is there any trust that Russia would uphold its commitments.
This skepticism is grounded in Moscow’s repeated violations of agreements since 2014. Ukrainians believe that any concessions made today would not end the war, they would simply reset it on terms more favorable to Russia. Concessions would allow Russia to regroup and attack again.
In response, Ukraine’s Western partners have been discussing security guarantees to back a settlement. But these so-called guarantees may not address the core risks of renewed Russian aggression for three reasons.
First, many of the arrangements being discussed resemble the nonbinding commitments of NATO’s Articles 4 and 5, which emphasize consultations and future decisions. But the kind of war Russia is fighting leaves little time for deliberation. A rapid escalation, combined with information manipulation and blame shifting, could delay decision-making long enough for Russia to stay on the initiative.
Second, the proposed guarantees lack credible operationalization. No European country has expressed a willingness to engage in a full-scale kinetic conflict with Russia on Ukrainian territory in the event of renewed aggression. Without such commitment, assurances remain vague. Effective guarantees require a clear and automatic link between a triggering event and immediate military action by the guarantors. That link does not exist.
Third, there is a deeper problem: Western militaries are not fully prepared for the kind of war now being fought in Ukraine. Thus their guarantees may not impress Moscow enough to deter it or be effective in the event of escalation.
Success on the battlefield depends not only on skill and doctrine, but also on access to large quantities of weapons and ammunition and the ability to adapt quickly. The center of gravity has shifted toward industrial capacity and technological scale, particularly in unmanned systems.
Russia already operates within this reality. It is expanding production of drones and missiles while reorganizing its economy for sustained conflict. Its continued strikes on Ukraine’s energy infrastructure aim to put pressure on civilians and degrade Ukraine’s ability to produce and sustain military capabilities.
Europe, by contrast, has yet to mobilize its industrial base for this type of warfare. Although European militaries have advantages in areas such as conventional air power, their doctrines and production systems are not yet aligned with the requirements of a high-intensity, industrialized, unmanned conflict.
In the context of this evolving war, any European security guarantees would remain constrained by outdated doctrines, limited industrial capacity, and insufficient scale.
The answer may not come through negotiations. All available indicators suggest that Russia is not preparing for deescalation. Russia is preparing for the continuation—and potential escalation—of the war.
