Matthew Sussex, Associate Professor (Adj), Griffith Asia Institute; and Fellow, Strategic and Defence Studies Centre, Australian National University
A flurry of recent diplomatic activity has seen two competing peace plans for Ukraine emerge.
The first, widely touted as a US plan, was apparently hashed out between Kremlin insider Kirill Dmitriev and Steve Witkoff, President Donald Trump’s Russia point-man.
The second, hurriedly drafted by the United Kingdom, France and Germany, is based on the 28 points in the US plan, but with key modifications and deletions.
Following the release of the US plan, Trump accused Ukraine of showing “zero gratitude” for US assistance in the war effort, and demanded Kyiv accept the terms by Thanksgiving in the United States – November 27 – or face being cut off from US intelligence sharing and military aid.
Unlike the US plan, the European counter-proposal places the blame for the war squarely at Russia’s feet. It proposes freezing Russian assets until reparations are made by Moscow. It also seeks to freeze the conflict in place, leaving the question of which party retains which part of Ukraine contingent on subsequent negotiations.
Speaking about the peace proposals, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen made it clear the European Union was committed to several key positions:
- that Ukraine’s borders cannot be altered by force
- there cannot be limitations on Ukraine’s armed forces that would leave it vulnerable, and
- the EU needed to have a seat at the table in any agreement.
Comparing the two plans, it is clear Russia and Europe remain as far apart as ever on Ukraine’s future. That much is unsurprising.
What should be more shocking to Western observers is just how much the US plan echoed Russian demands that have remained largely unaltered since President Vladimir Putin’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in early 2022.
Lacking logic and specifics
Put simply, the US plan would have had as much credibility if it had been written in crayon.
For starters, it has wording that appears to make more sense in Russian than English (or perhaps AI-translated English).
And it seems more focused on bringing about a new era of friendly Russia-US economic cooperation than a serious attempt to resolve Europe’s biggest land war since the Second World War.
Typical of Trumpian robber-baron foreign policy, the document foresaw large cash grabs for the US, amounting to little more than attempts at extortion.
In return, Ukraine was offered a murky NATO-style security guarantee that could be reneged upon under flimsy pretexts.
The plan also demanded:
- large territorial concessions from Kyiv
- a limited army
- a pledge enshrined in Ukraine’s constitution that it would never to join NATO, and
- a promise to hold elections in 100 days.
And while it expected Ukraine to strategically emasculate itself, the document made only vague suggestions about what Russia is “expected” to do, with no means of enforcement.
No multinational force was put forward to monitor the peace. And Ukraine was required to give up key defensive positions by ceding the territory it still controls in the Donbas region to Russia. That would leave the centre of the country defenceless against future Russian attacks.
Accepting those terms, as originally written, would be politically suicidal for Ukrainian President Volodomyr Zelensky. This was obvious in his sombre message that the plan forced Ukraine to choose between its dignity and continued US support.
A point-by-point breakdown
A closer look at just a selection of its key points illustrates just how bizarre the plan is.
Point 4 calls for “dialogue” between Russia and NATO, mediated by the US. That’s odd, since the US is a member of NATO.
Point 7 requires NATO to include a provision in its statutes that Ukraine will not be admitted. But the main purpose of NATO is that membership is open to all.
Point 9 says “European fighter jets” will be stationed in Poland, but doesn’t mention the American F-35s currently there.
Point 10 states that if Ukraine launches a missile “without cause” at St Petersburg or Moscow (strangely implying it’s fine to hit Smolensk or Voronezh, for instance) – then Kyiv loses its US security guarantee.
Point 13 says Russia will be invited to rejoin the G8 (the group now known as the G7 after Russia was expelled in 2014). But it says nothing about whether the other six members would agree to that.
Point 16 requires Russia to enshrine in law a policy of non-aggression towards Ukraine. However, it had already done so several times in the past, yet still invaded Ukraine in 2022.
Point 22 foresees a demilitarised zone in parts of Donetsk that Russian troops will not be able to enter. How to enforce that is left unspecified.
Point 26 gives everyone involved in the conflict full amnesty for their actions, including numerous alleged war criminals.
Point 27 establishes a “Peace Council” that would be overseen by Trump, similar to the “Board of Peace” envisioned in the Gaza peace plan, also headed by Trump. This gives him the ability to determine whether the agreement is being violated (and, crucially, by whom).
Where to next?
Ukrainians have been sold a diplomatic lemon before. In 1994, Ukraine signed the Budapest Memorandum, in which Kyiv agreed to give up the nuclear weapons it still held from the Soviet era, in return for commitments by Russia and the US that its sovereignty and borders would be respected.
Just as the current US plan has been rebuffed by Kyiv, there is no hope of the European alternative being endorsed by the Putin regime. Indeed, it has already been rejected by one of Putin’s senior advisers.
Where does this leave the peace process? US Secretary of State Marco Rubio has already walked back the US plan from a concrete set of demands to a “living, breathing document”, and hinted at great progress in negotiations with Ukraine.
European and Ukrainian stakeholders have also made approving noises, knowing that if the White House loses interest, securing peace will be much harder.
Yet it’s below the surface that the real soul-searching will be happening, in Ukraine, as well as the broader West. Once again, the Trump administration has proven it is more interested in long-term deals with autocrats than achieving just and lasting resolutions to security crises.
That alone should give US allies pause, and not just in Europe. For those nations, it’s one thing to doubt Putin’s motives. But it’s another thing entirely to now have to doubt America’s as well.
Matthew Sussex has received funding from the Australian Research Council, the Atlantic Council, the Fulbright Foundation, the Carnegie Foundation, the Lowy Institute and various Australian government departments and agencies.
