Following the resolution of the Iran crisis, Donald Trump's rhetoric towards Russia has gradually begun to harden. The Kremlin responded swiftly to this shift: at the beginning of the week, President Vladimir Putin’s aide on foreign affairs did not rule out the possibility of a meeting between the two presidents, despite the lack of fundamental agreement on the parameters of a settlement in Ukraine. Until recently, the Kremlin had dismissed the idea of such a meeting.
Earlier this spring, the Kremlin rejected all proposed ceasefire agreements, insisting that Ukraine partially relinquish its sovereignty – specifically, by agreeing to future limits on its ability to strengthen its military. Ukraine and its European allies refused to accept this condition.
At present, the main battleground over the terms of halting the conflict is the map of military operations during the current Russian offensive. Should the Russian army manage to demonstrate decisive battlefield superiority and expose the vulnerability of Ukraine’s front lines, Ukraine may be forced to at least partially accept the Kremlin’s terms. However, if the offensive, as was the case last year, yields only modest territorial gains at great cost, Ukraine’s negotiating position will be significantly strengthened.
Over the past three months, the Russian offensive has proceeded at a faster pace than last year’s. But this difference is not fundamental, and the front line remains largely stable. It appears that both the offensive and Ukraine’s exhaustion will reach their climax in early autumn.
Despite boastful statements, the war is becoming an increasingly heavy burden in economic, political and psychological terms, including for Moscow. Pressure from the United States and the deteriorating economic situation in Russia make a scenario involving a halt or freeze in the conflict this autumn, for the first time in three and a half years, increasingly likely. However, the formula for ending the conflict, and the degree of Ukrainian sovereignty that can be preserved, will depend directly on the course of military action over the coming months.
About a week ago, on 23 June, Russian presidential spokesperson Dmitry Peskov said that a meeting between Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump would be possible 'only after agreements and understandings are developed through negotiations' within the Istanbul format. In practice, this phrasing meant that Russia continued to insist on its ultimatum, a list of demands deemed fundamentally unacceptable, and saw no need for a meeting with Trump if Ukraine rejected these terms.
Two days later, at the NATO summit in The Hague, after meeting with Volodymyr Zelensky, Trump said he wanted to talk to Putin about ending the war in Ukraine. There, at a closed meeting with NATO leaders, he said the situation in Ukraine was out of control and something needed to be done. Later, when asked about supplying Ukraine with Patriot systems, he asked a Ukrainian journalist where her husband was. Upon learning he was at the front, he responded with evident sympathy and asked her to send him his regards. Another two days later, in Minsk, Putin praised Trump at length and said he was open to contact, but added that 'such meetings need preparation', effectively reaffirming Peskov’s earlier position: first, a fundamental agreement must be reached then, a meeting can take place.
Two days after that, Senator Lindsey Graham told ABC News that during a round of golf, Trump approved moving forward with his bill on draconian sanctions against buyers of Russian oil. On the same day, Putin’s foreign policy aide Yuri Ushakov stated that two formats for a summit were now on the table: either a 'well-prepared meeting' or an alternative format, in which 'the leaders agree to simply meet now, talk things through directly, and then give instructions to their subordinates.' Thus, the Kremlin had adjusted its original stance (first agreement, then meeting).
As anticipated, after the (at least from Trump’s perspective) successful resolution of the Iran crisis and the reduction of risks of prolonged military conflict in the region, which could destabilise global energy markets, Trump’s and his administration’s rhetoric towards Moscow has indeed become somewhat more assertive (→ Re:Russia: The Spoils of an Unreliable Alliance). And, as we can see, the Kremlin responded quickly, sensing Trump’s 'distancing' and allowing for a potential summit without pre-agreed terms.
But what sort of agreements are in question? Direct talks between Moscow and Washington over a settlement formula for Ukraine were cut off at the end of April, when the Kremlin rejected a compromise proposed by the Americans. Two weeks later, Putin did not travel to Istanbul, where Trump had been ready to meet him, and the Russian delegation that did arrive came bearing the usual ultimatum, resembling more a capitulation agreement than a genuine deal.
As we have previously written, freezing the situation along the line of contact, and de facto (though not legally) recognising Russian occupation of part of Ukrainian territory, forms the basic framework of the agreement. It could be said that Ukrainian public opinion has come to terms with this prospect. Although Russia continues to demand, within the 'Istanbul format,' the transfer of parts of Donetsk and Zaporizhzhia regions it has not yet seized, this appears more a negotiating position than a realistic goal.The core issue that renders the positions of Russia on one side, and Ukraine and Europe on the other, fundamentally irreconcilable is the matter of limiting the size and armament of Ukraine’s military in future, and its cooperation with European forces (→ Re: Russia: According to The Kremlin's Script). It is precisely the restriction of Ukraine’s ability to arm itself, and thereby guarantee its own security, that the Kremlin euphemistically calls 'eliminating the root causes of the conflict.' What the Kremlin demands is a guarantee of Ukraine’s vulnerability which, in turn, would guarantee its alignment with Russian interests.
For Ukraine and Europe, such a demand is unacceptable, as meeting it would not only leave Ukraine militarily vulnerable, but would also create a serious obstacle to the country’s effective economic recovery. Securing private investment in the Ukrainian economy, even with European guarantees, will be extremely difficult in the absence of a security umbrella. Incidentally, the American version of the agreement also contained no mention of restrictions on the Ukrainian army, instead proposing the complete lifting of all sanctions imposed on Russia since 2014.
By insisting on its demands in the spring, most notably, restrictions on Ukraine’s armed forces, the Kremlin implied that the alternative to accepting them would be a renewed Russian offensive, potentially more successful and devastating for Ukraine than the previous year's. Thus, Putin presented Zelensky with a choice: either surrender part of Ukraine’s sovereignty over the territory it still holds (with agreement to limit its military capability essentially amounting to the loss of a crucial part of sovereignty), thereby preventing a Russian offensive; or risk facing new territorial losses, which could in turn force Ukraine to agree to those same military restrictions anyway. Trump, in his interview with The Atlantic, also alluded to the possibility of a serious deterioration in Ukraine’s position due to a new Russian offensive, criticising Zelensky’s intransigence.
For Putin’s formula of 'sovereignty or territory' to work, he must demonstrate that the Russian army has a decisive advantage on the battlefield during the current offensive thereby proving that continued resistance will only worsen Ukraine’s situation. Last year’s offensive failed to demonstrate such an advantage: despite enormous losses, Russia managed to capture only 0.5% of Ukrainian territory.
Putin’s hopes for the success of this year’s offensive rest on several assumptions. First, his military machine is better prepared than it was last year, particularly in terms of drone support, while his commercial mobilisation has been effective in supplying 'cannon fodder' for bloody assaults on Ukrainian positions. Second, the Ukrainian army is exhausted and understaffed. Third, Ukraine will be politically vulnerable during the offensive, particularly due to domestic resistance to the new conscription law. Fourth and by no means least, in 2025, Ukraine is receiving significantly less military aid, and no financial assistance at all, from the United States. Meanwhile, in Putin’s calculation, politically unstable Europe is unlikely to be able to fill the gap.
So far, these assumptions have only partially been borne out. As we noted earlier, based on data from the Ukraine Support Tracker, Europe has managed to almost fully compensate for the absence of American funding in the January–April 2025 period, providing Kyiv with around €27 billion (→ Re:Russia: Shifting the Burden). However, two four-month periods still remain this year, and there has yet to be any confirmation that similar levels of support are agreed for the rest of the year.
Moreover, at the NATO summit, Secretary General Mark Rutte announced that over the past six months, Europe and Canada have provided Ukraine with more than €35 billion. This is a faster pace than last year, when total annual support reached €50 billion. However, this statement is far less encouraging than Rutte makes it sound. Last year, European assistance accounted for only half of Ukraine’s total international support, with the rest coming from the United States. If the pace of aid from Europe and Canada truly outpaces last year’s, and that trend continues through the second half of the year, Ukraine will still receive, at best, about 70% of the support it did in 2024.
A delegation of European diplomats and politicians recently visiting Kyiv reported that Ukrainian morale has fallen, the country’s air defence system has been heavily depleted by mass Russian attacks, high-ranking Ukrainian officials are speaking of the need for a ceasefire, and they complain of a shortage of weapons. All of this was written about in rather panicked tones by Financial Times columnist Gideon Rachman. Nevertheless, the central message of his column was the urgent need to increase both financial and military support to Ukraine.
European politicians who have visited Ukraine themselves also write that the country urgently needs an additional $10–15 billion to develop domestic arms production and a total of around $110–120 billion in overall support over the course of a year. This would require Europe to allocate about €60 billion over the remaining six months. This is an implausible scenario. As a result, the volume of financial assistance is likely to decrease in the second half of the year, complicating the situation both at the front and on the home front.
Summarising military reports and analyses from various sources (including ISW, Deepstate, The Insider, and the blog of Yan Matveev), it appears that this year’s Russian offensive has so far shown no signs of breaking through Ukraine’s defences. Russian forces are attacking along multiple fronts, stretching both the battle lines and Ukrainian manpower. In several areas, the situation is troubling, and Ukrainian defences are being 'pushed through' by Russian troops. However, overall, the front line remains stable. The most dramatic developments are unfolding near Kupyansk, where Russian forces have achieved significant tactical gains that are altering the city’s defensive situation. Another notable event was Ukraine’s loss of a major lithium deposit.
Overall, the pace of the offensive has surpassed that of last year, accelerating in May and the first half of June, though it slowed down in the second half of the month. Since March, the Russian army has captured just over 1,500 square kilometres, about 1,000 of which were taken in May and June. Still, this pace does not represent a fundamental shift from last year. Even if Russian forces manage to capture 6,000–7,000 square kilometres in total during the 2025 campaign (compared to 4,000 last year) that would still only amount to around 1% of Ukrainian territory and would not demonstrate a decisive advantage. However, the Russian offensive has not yet reached its peak, and the exhaustion of Ukrainian forces, including from shortages in arms supplies, is expected to culminate in the autumn.
Thus, it is the situation along the front line over the next three to four months that will reveal the viability of Putin’s 'sovereignty or territory' formula. If the Russian army’s gains remain within 1–2% of Ukrainian territory, Ukraine’s negotiating position will be strengthened. But if there are clear signs of front-line collapse in certain areas and significantly greater Russian advances, the likelihood of limitations on Ukrainian sovereignty being included in any future peace formula will become far greater.
The Russian authorities claim they are ready to fight as long as necessary to achieve the goals set out in their ultimatum. However, such statements are largely propaganda and part of a psychological offensive. The war is becoming an increasingly heavy burden in economic, political and psychological terms, even for the Kremlin.
Anonymous sources within NATO, cited by the BBC, believe that from an economic standpoint, Russia could continue active military operations in Ukraine until 2027. This may be true. However, if oil prices in the second half of 2025 and into 2026 remain closer to $50 per barrel rather than approaching $60, the socio-economic costs of the war for the Kremlin will rise so significantly that they may well become a compelling argument for revising the expected 'parameters of victory' and opting to freeze the conflict.
Political costs and considerations, however, are likely to play no less important a role. If the current, second Russian offensive fails to deliver substantial results and does not demonstrate a decisive military advantage, the Kremlin will find it far harder to launch a third offensive next year. Public expectations in Russia for an end to the war have peaked: according to the Levada Centre, about two-thirds of Russian respondents now favour entering peace negotiations, while fewer than 30% believe the fighting should continue (in the first half of 2024, this latter figure averaged 40%, dropping to 37% in the second half). However, the strongest argument is not even this public sentiment, but rather the fact that large-scale Russian offensives, delivering only marginal territorial gains at the cost of enormous losses, have come to symbolise not strength, but weakness, both domestically and internationally. Instead of boosting Vladimir Putin’s political capital, they undermine it. Averse to being perceived as a failure, Putin may well seek to avoid that role by 'yielding' to pressure from Trump and the promise of sanctions relief.
In any case, the rising costs of war for all sides – Ukrainian, Russian, and European – and the likely intensification of pressure from Washington over the coming months, mean that for the first time in three and a half years, the likelihood of the acute phase of the conflict ending this autumn is relatively high. However, the terms on which it may end, or be frozen, and the degree of Ukrainian sovereignty that can be preserved will depend directly on how the fighting unfolds in the coming months.
Contemporary conflict theory holds that wars are, at their core, an exchange of information about the actual capabilities of the opposing sides (→ Re:Russia: The War Equation). The protracted nature of the war in Ukraine has been driven in large part by the fact that this 'information' was inaccurate at the outset and then repeatedly changed as new factors emerged, such as the West’s broad support for Ukraine or the recovery of Russia’s military apparatus. The 2025 campaign is intended to reveal a new balance of power: has the Kremlin, in the latter half of the war’s fourth year, achieved sufficient military superiority to dictate its terms of peace to Ukraine and impose limitations on its sovereignty?