Six months into Donald Trump’s presidency, there is no visible movement towards negotiations to end the war in Ukraine. Deadlines previously attached to presidential “ultimatums” have passed, and talk of a trilateral meeting between the leaders of the United States, Russia and Ukraine has faded.
Plans for a bilateral summit between the Russian and Ukrainian presidents — once suggested as a way to broker a ceasefire — have not materialised. Nor are there substantive US-Russia or Russia-Ukraine negotiations under way. The diplomatic track appears to be at an impasse.
Expectations that a change in the White House could unlock a peace process have not been borne out. The proposition most often attributed to Washington — a ceasefire in exchange for sanctions relief — has not progressed. The underlying assumption was that hostilities might be frozen during Mr Trump’s term while sanctions were eased, leaving the broader territorial question unresolved. That calculation has met resistance in Moscow and has not produced a forum for talks.
On sanctions, the United States has not introduced major new measures against Russia in recent months. The administration has discussed secondary sanctions on buyers of Russian oil but, in practice, action has focused on tariff measures, notably against India. New Delhi has increased purchases of discounted Russian crude; refined products from India have continued to reach Europe. European governments have indicated they will consider tighter restrictions on such flows only in tandem with Washington, arguing unilateral steps would carry significant economic costs while leaving the main volumes to China unaffected. Beijing remains the principal destination for Russian energy and a critical supplier of dual-use goods to Russia’s defence industry, making any comprehensive sanctions regime without Chinese participation harder to enforce.
The strategic result is a familiar picture: Russia retains the capacity to fight a long war, and Ukraine relies on sustained Western supply of air defence, long-range strike and industrial support. Absent a step-change in pressure on Russia’s military-industrial base and on oil revenues, Moscow’s calculus is unlikely to shift. Ukrainian voices argue that the only realistic path to shorten the war is systematic degradation of Russia’s arms production, logistics, aviation and fuel infrastructure — by Ukrainian strikes and by tighter export controls that limit Russia’s access to components.
On the ground, neither side presently has the means to force a decision. Ukraine lacks the mass and air cover to retake large tracts quickly; Russia lacks the capability to achieve sweeping advances without prohibitive losses. In that context, increased Russian missile and drone attacks on Ukrainian cities serve as a coercive tool. Unless countered by expanded air defence and long-range interdiction, this pattern is likely to persist.
European security concerns extend beyond the battlefield. The fear is that a Ukrainian collapse would trigger further refugee flows and intensify political polarisation across the EU. That, in turn, could strengthen parties advocating accommodation with Moscow. The risk is not of Russian occupation of Europe — NATO’s nuclear deterrent remains the decisive barrier — but of a Europe constrained by fear, economic disruption and political fragmentation. Sweden’s entry into NATO underscores the changed security landscape in the Baltic, where the island of Gotland is now central to allied planning.
Nuclear escalation is assessed as unlikely in current conditions. Russian signalling on nuclear use was most overt during Ukraine’s 2022 counter-offensive, when Moscow framed the threat as a deterrent to a sudden collapse on the southern front. With Russia now prosecuting a strategy of attrition and long-range strikes, nuclear use would complicate Moscow’s relations with Beijing and remove any prospect of sanctions relief from the West.
For the United States and Europe, the immediate test is practical: maintain and accelerate deliveries of air defence systems, interceptors, drones, electronic warfare, artillery shells and long-range missiles; tighten enforcement against sanctions evasion; and expand domestic production lines to remove bottlenecks. The Ramstein format remains the main venue where these decisions are tracked and coordinated. The political narrative — who is “to blame” for the absence of talks — is secondary to whether Ukraine has the tools to defend its skies, strike at depth and hold its lines.
The short-term outlook is therefore clear. There is no credible peace process on the table; a freeze remains hypothetical and would require conditions neither Kyiv nor Moscow currently accepts. The war will continue as a contest of industrial capacity, air defence and long-range fires. Western cohesion and tempo of supply will shape the duration. Without sustained pressure on Russia’s military economy and energy income, and without a material uplift in Ukraine’s strike and air defence capabilities, the conflict is likely to remain a grinding war of attrition rather than a diplomatic negotiation.
