Can Ukraine - or The World - Trust a Peace Built on Putin’s Word?

When Volodymyr Zelensky declared this weekend that a US-backed security guarantees document was “100 per cent ready”, the announcement was designed to signal momentum at a time when Ukraine desperately needs it.

Yet behind the confident rhetoric lies a more troubling reality: neither Moscow’s sincerity nor Washington’s motivations can be taken for granted.

Speaking in Vilnius alongside Baltic and Polish leaders, the Ukrainian president described the document as a cornerstone of Kyiv’s long-term security, pending formal signing and ratification in both Washington and Kyiv. In theory, it would provide Ukraine with a durable framework of American support, reinforcing deterrence against future Russian aggression.

In practice, however, it raises as many questions as it answers.

The timing of the announcement is striking. It follows tentative talks in Abu Dhabi involving representatives of Ukraine, Russia and the United States — discussions billed as exploratory steps towards ending Europe’s bloodiest conflict since 1945. Zelensky cautiously welcomed a reduction in points of disagreement. Yet history offers ample reason to doubt whether Vladimir Putin is negotiating in good faith at all.

For more than a decade, the Kremlin has demonstrated a consistent pattern: sign agreements, violate them when convenient, then deny responsibility. From the Budapest Memorandum to the Minsk accords, Russian commitments to Ukrainian sovereignty have proven disposable. The idea that Moscow now seeks a genuine, lasting peace sits uneasily with its continued military pressure and maximalist territorial claims.

Putin, after all, has not abandoned his core objective: the subjugation of Ukraine as a sovereign, Western-aligned state. His public language may have softened, but Russian forces remain entrenched on occupied land, and there is no indication that the Kremlin is prepared to relinquish territory seized since 2014. A ceasefire without withdrawal would merely freeze the conflict on Moscow’s terms — a pause, not a peace.

This is the uncomfortable context in which Zelensky’s security guarantees must be judged. Unlike NATO’s Article 5, the proposed arrangements fall short of an automatic collective defence obligation. They are designed to deter, not compel; to signal resolve rather than guarantee intervention. Their credibility will rest not on wording alone, but on political will — particularly in Washington.

And here, too, scepticism is warranted.

Any agreement will ultimately pass through a US Congress increasingly divided over America’s role in Ukraine. Even more uncertain is the broader political backdrop, with Donald Trump once again looming large over US foreign policy. While the former president has repeatedly claimed he could “end the war in 24 hours”, he has never explained how — nor whether such a deal would protect Ukraine’s sovereignty.

Critics fear that Trump’s conception of peace may amount to little more than a transactional bargain: pressure on Kyiv to concede territory in exchange for a superficial cessation of hostilities, allowing Washington to declare victory and move on. His past admiration for Putin, coupled with his scepticism towards NATO and multilateral security commitments, offers scant reassurance to Ukraine or its European allies.

For Zelensky, this creates a delicate balancing act. He must secure American guarantees strong enough to deter Russia, yet flexible enough to survive a possible change of administration. A document that is “100 per cent ready” on paper may prove far more fragile in the rough weather of US politics.

Europe, meanwhile, remains caught between ambition and caution. Zelensky has framed EU membership as a second pillar of Ukraine’s security, arguing that integration into European institutions would lock in long-term stability. Yet enlargement fatigue, defence shortfalls and fears of escalation continue to temper enthusiasm in several capitals.

Some European leaders speak warmly of guarantees while quietly hoping the United States will continue to shoulder the strategic burden. Others worry that offering Ukraine too much, too soon could provoke Moscow rather than restrain it — an argument that has repeatedly failed to prevent aggression, yet refuses to die.

The central danger is that the West mistakes process for progress. Drafting documents, holding talks and announcing readiness can create an illusion of momentum even as the underlying conflict remains unresolved. Putin understands this well. He has long used diplomacy as a tool to buy time, fracture alliances and reframe aggression as grievance.

None of this diminishes Ukraine’s determination or the legitimacy of its cause. Zelensky is right to pursue every diplomatic avenue that strengthens his country’s position. But realism demands acknowledging that peace will not come simply because a document is ready to be signed.

Until Russia demonstrates — through actions, not words — that it is prepared to end its war of conquest, and until Washington proves that its commitments are not hostage to electoral cycles, Ukraine’s security will remain precarious.

For now, the promise of peace rests on paper. History suggests that paper alone has never stopped the Kremlin’s tanks.