Trump is moving fast. Two days ago his team had struck a breakthrough deal with Ukrainian officials in Jeddah: a U.S.-backed 30-day ceasefire. Ukraine agreed. Now, the U.S. is working to get Russia to sign on.
It was noteworthy that Trump bypassed his official envoy for Ukraine and Russia, Keith Kellogg, and sent Steve Witkoff to Moscow instead. Witkoff has proven very effective at navigating extremely difficult negotiations in the Middle East, and as the stakes rose in the Russia Ukraine front, bringing his skill set to the table seemed to be a priority for Trump.
Predictably, Putin isn’t making it easy. He’s been careful not to outright reject the offer, to avoid disrupting the renewed communication between Washington and Moscow, but he’s also not rushing to accept it. This ceasefire for him is a double edged sword, on the one hand it could lead into a conclusion to the war to Russia’s advantage, but on the other, if not managed carefully, could empower Kyiv’s position both on the ground and the negotiating table.
The shifting tides here are showcasing the changing dynamics between Russia, the U.S., and Ukraine.
Putin’s Response: Playing for Time
Putin isn’t rejecting the ceasefire—but he’s not accepting it either.
Instead, he’s taking a calculated approach, careful to keep the diplomatic momentum between Russia and the U.S. alive without committing to anything that weakens his hand. Since his first call with Trump in late January and the follow-up meeting between Secretary of State Rubio and Russian Foreign Minister Lavrov, Russia has broken out of its isolation from the West for the first time in years. Putin won’t risk losing that progress.
To that end, he agreed in principle with the ceasefire but insists that certain "nuances" must be addressed before moving forward. His biggest concern is that Ukraine will use the ceasefire to rearm, replenish supplies, and strengthen its military—a long-standing Russian concern.
Moscow claims to be in a stronger position than it was months ago, and to concede these gains and allow Kyiv to refresh would be, from the Kremlin’s perspective, a tactical misstep.
Instead of outright rejecting the U.S. proposal, Putin is making it more complicated to finalize. He’s adding layers of conditions designed to drag out the process and maximize Russia’s advantage on the ground. He even hinted at the possibility of a direct call with Trump, in a bid to extend his own direct engagement and avoid any risk of alienating the American president in light of thawing relations between the two heads of state.
Moscow also seeks to ensure that the framing of these discussions remains in the triangular format that it is taking now between the U.S., Russia, and Ukraine, without involving Europe given its hardline stance toward Moscow and its escalating rhetoric over the past weeks.
In parallel, Russia’s Foreign Ministry stated that Russia will not accept any Western peacekeepers on Ukrainian territory, echoing the statement made by Lavrov last month on the same issue. Moscow views the presence of European troops in Ukraine as inimical to its interests, and antithetical to the very purpose of the conflict in the first place: not having NATO on its borders.
Russia, as predicted, will likely stall as much as possible before engaging in direct, substantive talks. The Kremlin’s playbook here is clear: buy time, solidify gains, and angle for a high-level U.S.-Russia engagement, ideally a direct call or meeting between Trump and Putin, something that in itself is likely to consume time that Moscow will use to press its advantage. Until then, we are likely to see more maneuvering, more conditions, and more delays.
Ukraine’s Response: Forced to the Table, but Not Backing Down
Zelensky’s reaction was predictable—but not wrong. He immediately accused Russia of deliberate stalling, arguing that Putin was complicating the ceasefire to avoid committing to a real peace process. He framed Moscow’s objections as nothing more than an excuse to buy time, consolidate territorial gains, and prolong the war on Russian terms.
Ukraine is playing the same game, as it should, leveraging European support to reinforce its negotiating position. Kyiv didn’t exactly come to Jeddah keen to negotiate, as we saw from Zelensky’s infamous shouting match with Trump in the Oval Office, he is not any more eager for a ceasefire than Putin is.
Despite its reservations, and under pressure from the U.S. that paused its intelligence sharing and security support for Ukraine, it came to the table and ultimately agreed to the American proposal for a ceasefire during the high level meeting in Jeddah.
As soon as Putin stated his terms, Zelensky came back with some of his own, in a bid to secure Ukraine’s gains, and capitalize on the momentum of European support for his position, and ensure that Putin does not seize the momentum with Washington to secure a deal that would prove unfavorable to Ukraine. In essence, both sides are claiming to accept the ceasefire, while making demands to shift the balance in their favor when negotiations begin.
That’s where Kyiv’s European backers come in. Ukraine knows it has unwavering European support and is using that to harden its position. By leaning on leaders like Macron and Starmer, who are demanding that Russia accept the ceasefire unconditionally, Ukraine is effectively using Europe as its primary backer as the U.S. shifts to a more middle position.
Zelensky is, through his statements, framing Russia as the primary derailer of the deal. The tactical play here is to drive a wedge between Putin and Trump to alleviate the pressure on his own position. The Ukrainian President has faced increasing challenges since Trump assumed the presidency, and is trying to walk back some of the friction between them through accepting the ceasefire deal.
Kyiv, understanding Moscow’s reticence to accept a deal, and its intentions to stall despite claiming to accept the ceasefire in principle, may be betting that Russia will stall long enough to irk the Americans and ultimately reposition Washington in support of Ukraine again as negotiations proceed. The more Ukraine and Europe stress their support of the deal and Russia’s delays, the more likely they are to succeed in bringing Washington back into a more hardened position toward Moscow. Or at least that’s the thinking, because the U.S. and Russia have open channels of communication and are likely already hammering out terms agreeable to both of them.
Europe’s Response: Public Support, Private Frustration
On the surface, Europe’s position is simple—unwavering support for Ukraine, strong condemnation of Russia, and a demand that Moscow accept the ceasefire without conditions.
Macron, Starmer, and other European leaders were quick to reaffirm their ironclad backing of Kyiv. But behind the public statements, Europe is not entirely aligned with how this process is unfolding. The U.S.-Russia talks in Riyadh happened without European input, sidelining EU leaders in what should be a defining moment for European security. The ceasefire was then agreed upon in Jeddah between the U.S. and Ukraine—again, with no European role in shaping the terms.
This isn’t just about optics. If Washington and Moscow set the terms of peace, Europe risks being reduced to a bystander in its own backyard. That’s why, rather than embracing the negotiations, European leaders are pushing back and using hardline rhetoric to complicate the process and buy time.
Europe’s reluctance to see a rapid resolution isn’t just about politics, it’s about long-term strategic positioning. European leaders have been using the war to justify a historic expansion of their defense industries, arguing that the continent must reduce its reliance on U.S. military power. A swift ceasefire, if it stabilizes relations with Russia too soon, could undercut their justification for ramping up defense spending and military production.
At the same time, Europe has its eye on Ukraine’s vast natural gas reserves, seeing them as a potential key to securing long-term energy independence. If the ceasefire doesn’t account for European access to Ukraine’s resources, leaders in Brussels could find themselves locked out of post-war arrangements where the U.S., Russia, and Ukraine dictate the terms.
While publicly pushing for peace, Europe is making negotiations harder on purpose. By insisting that Russia accept the ceasefire unconditionally, they are reinforcing Ukraine’s position while keeping the process gridlocked long enough to reposition themselves into the talks.
And yet, despite this deliberate stalling, European leaders have failed to take the most logical step—backchanneling discussions with Moscow. Rather than leveraging existing relationships to create a parallel track for diplomacy, they’ve repeatedly chosen public grandstanding over quiet engagement. The OSCE Secretary General was in Moscow last week, an opportunity wasted. Hungary maintains one of the few open lines of dialogue with Putin, yet no visible efforts have been made to use it as an entry point.
Instead of crafting their own diplomatic approach, European leaders have settled into a cycle of summits and statements, reiterating hardline positions without making progress.
The long-term goal is clear: Europe doesn’t just want peace, it wants a peace process that secures its economic and security interests while keeping it at the center of negotiations. But so far, its actions have amounted to blocking without engaging.
For now, European leaders are stalling—not to derail the talks, but to ensure they don’t move forward without them. The problem is, they’ve done little to secure their own seat at the table.
The U.S., Russia, and Ukraine Move—While Europe Watches
Washington, Moscow, and Kyiv are locked in a delicate diplomatic dance, each maneuvering to secure the best possible position. Europe, meanwhile, heckles from the sidelines, trying to disrupt the rhythm or force its way into the negotiations.
The Trump administration shattered the diplomatic stalemate almost immediately upon assuming office, abandoning Biden’s confrontational stance and shifting toward direct engagement with Russia. From the first phone call between Trump and Putin in January to the series of high-level meetings between U.S. and Russian officials, Washington made it clear it was willing to engage with Russia.
This move wasn’t about sentiment, it was about strategy. Identifying China as its primary global competitor, the new administration assessed that pushing Russia further into Beijing’s orbit was a strategic blunder. Rather than isolating Moscow, Trump’s team offered engagement, diplomacy, and the possibility of a different path, one that could at least partially wedge Russia away from China’s influence. Putin, sensing the opportunity, leaned in.
Ukraine, however, was not eager to join the dance. Dragged to the table by Washington, whether through pressure, the temporary pause in intelligence-sharing, or the promise of new security and economic deals, Kyiv reluctantly engaged in the Jeddah talks and ultimately agreed to the ceasefire proposal.
Ukraine is likely banking on Russia becoming difficult in negotiations, which, so far, is exactly what’s happening. Leaning into the dynamic, Zelensky’s counter-conditions create a situation where both sides are in a cycle of “accepting” the ceasefire while adding demands the other won’t meet. Kyiv understands that every extra month of Western support helps it rebuild its military position.
Both Russia and Ukraine are stalling for time, with the former seeking to consolidate the gains it has made on the ground, and the latter mobilizing increased European support that it can capitalize on to improve its position.
The Trump administration would not have expected Russia or Ukraine to accept a ceasefire without strings attached. It knew both sides would agree in principle, then load the deal with conditions to protect their interests.
And that’s fine—for now. For Trump, ending this war is a foreign policy priority, but not at any cost. The real objective isn’t just peace, it’s about reshaping the global balance of power. That means keeping Russia engaged diplomatically, ensuring that China doesn’t consolidate an unbreakable alliance with Moscow, and shifting U.S. focus to what Washington sees as its real geopolitical challenge—Beijing.
Europe on the other hand, rather than positioning itself as a mediator, has been caught in a loop of hardline statements and summits, repeating the same talking points while failing to secure a role in the actual negotiations. While Washington and Moscow are talking, and Kyiv is maneuvering, Europe is stuck repeating the same ultimatums that have made no difference on the battlefield or at the negotiating table.
It is understandable from the European perspective to leverage the conflict to push for an independent security architecture that frees them from reliance on the U.S., but the misalignment between the long term goal of strategic repositioning and the unclear timeline for ending the war in Ukraine will eventually lead to more complications for the implementations of the European defense recalibration down the line. The point is, European governments are using the war to justify a major redesign of continental defense, yet they have done little to secure a role in the ceasefire process that could dictate its sustainability.
Who Will Be the Last One Standing?
Neither Russia nor Ukraine can afford to alienate the Trump administration. That’s why, despite all the conditions and maneuvering, both sides are avoiding outright rejection of the ceasefire proposal.
There is a specific time window however that all parties have their eyes clearly set on. For Russia, the risk is that in four years, a successor to Trump could reverse course entirely, pulling Washington back into alignment with Europe and reigniting the full weight of Western opposition. If Moscow doesn’t solidify its gains now, it may find itself dealing with a far less accommodating U.S. administration in 2029—one that isn’t interested in diplomacy but in containment.
For Ukraine, the gamble is just as high. Trump’s return to power has already reshaped Washington’s approach, and a successor to Trump could be even less committed to unconditional support for Ukraine, forcing Kyiv into an even weaker negotiating position. That means every month of continued Western backing counts, and Zelensky’s calibration of delaying negotiations to strengthen Ukraine’s position becomes even more delicate.
Europe, meanwhile, is racing against its own self-imposed deadline. Having tied massive defense spending increases to the Russian threat, European leaders are betting that they can rebuild the continent’s security architecture before public support for military expansion wanes. But that bet carries risks. If the war ends too soon—especially without Europe playing a major role in the ceasefire—leaders may struggle to justify continued spending. Economic pressures are already mounting, and without an immediate security crisis, some governments may revert to old habits and defer to domestic electoral pressures rather than pushing for true defense independence.
Everyone is playing for time.
Moscow is delaying to consolidate its battlefield advantage before engaging in direct negotiations. Kyiv is stalling to maximize its leverage with the West before being forced into talks. Europe is dragging its feet, hoping to secure its long-term defense ambitions before the war winds down.
The U.S. meanwhile has a different set of priorities. At the heart of this isn’t just Ukraine or Russia. It’s about America’s shift away from adversarial positioning toward Russia, and a foreign policy recalibrated toward its newly identified strategic competitor—China.
For now, the dance continues. But at some point, the music will stop. And the real question is who will be left standing when it’s all over.