Diplomacy with Putin is marred by a misreading of the situation. Russia’s ambitions to control Kyiv

The umpteenth visit by Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner to Russia, followed by their first mission to Kyiv, has not substantially changed anything, either in the dynamics of the conflict or in the prospects for a ceasefire and a stabilisation of the front line. This is not a surprising outcome. What continues to be interpreted as a failure of diplomacy is, at a deeper level, the result of a strategic error: the West continues to try to negotiate a war without having fully understood the objectives for which Russia is fighting it.

Once again, Moscow has reiterated that in order to reach a solution to the conflict, it is necessary to address its ‘root causes’. In the West, this phrase is often treated as a generic negotiating position, but for the Kremlin it has a much more precise meaning, defined by the terms ‘denazification’ and “demilitarisation” of Ukraine, which, when translated from Russian propaganda rhetoric into concrete political terms, mean bringing Kyiv back under Moscow’s control and preventing Ukraine from existing as a truly sovereign state, free to determine its own future independently.

It is from this premise that we must begin in order to understand why the West’s strategy in recent years has failed to produce the desired result. For almost five years, military aid to Ukraine and sanctions against Russia have been gradually increased, in the belief that the progressive deterioration of economic and military conditions would alter the Kremlin’s strategic calculations. And so the West applied a typically Western cost-benefit analysis to Russia, assuming that increasing economic losses, internal difficulties and international isolation would inevitably force Moscow to revise its objectives. The problem, therefore, is not that the West failed to exert pressure on Russia, but that it based its strategy on the expectation that Putin would react to pressure in the same way a Western leader would. Putin, however, has shown himself to be willing to bear costs far higher than anticipated.

The first step towards changing our approach is to recognise the true nature of the conflict. The war is not primarily a war over territory, and treating it as though its central issue were the Donbas risks causing us to lose sight of Russia’s fundamental strategic objective. The Donbas is certainly important from a military, economic and symbolic point of view, but that is not where the ultimate reason for the invasion lies. The central issue is Kyiv, because control of the territory without political control of Ukraine would not resolve the problem that Moscow believes it has with the existence of an independent Ukrainian state integrated into the Western political, economic and security system.

Russia needs to keep the channel of communication with Washington open and to present itself as a rational actor with whom negotiations are possible, particularly in the eyes of the Trump Administration. In this context, the Donbas issue offers Moscow a seemingly concrete basis on which to build a negotiating narrative: there are disputed territories and, therefore, theoretically, the possibility of a compromise. But this simplification risks becoming a diversion from Russia’s true strategic objective.

The question the West should be asking is simple: if Russia were to completely conquer the Donbas, why would it stop? From Moscow’s perspective, the conquest of the Donbas would not merely represent a territorial success. It would mean eliminating one of the main defensive lines built by the Ukrainians since 2014 and gaining more favourable access to the rest of the country. Once that barrier has been breached, why should the Kremlin abandon the objective it has been pursuing since the start of the war, namely to impose its political will on Kyiv?

This is why, as long as we continue to base our strategies on the belief that a territorial solution can resolve the conflict, we risk preparing responses to a war that is different from the one Moscow is actually fighting.

This observation leads directly to the second major shift in the conflict. The war is heading towards a new phase of escalation, but this escalation may not take place primarily on Ukrainian territory.

In Ukraine, the scope for a genuine escalation of conventional warfare is now limited. Russia has already deployed most of the means at its disposal and continues to intensify its missile and ballistic attacks, primarily because it knows that Ukraine is facing a growing shortage of interceptors. This dramatically exacerbates the situation for the civilian population and infrastructure, but does not alter the fundamental reality on the battlefield: Russia’s ability to strike Ukrainian cities has not resulted in a decisive turning point along the front line. Territorial gains remain limited and are achieved at an extremely high cost in terms of personnel and equipment.

At the same time, Ukraine has increased its capacity to strike deep into Russia’s logistical and industrial infrastructure. Medium- and long-range attacks are aimed at disrupting supply chains in the occupied territories and targeting refineries and industries that contribute directly or indirectly to the Russian war machine.

The result is a war in which Moscow is unable to secure a decisive victory, yet shows no intention of accepting a stalemate. Faced with this reality, Putin has two options: to negotiate along the current line of contact, or to seek a new escalation capable of altering the strategic context in which the war is being fought.

Witkoff and Kushner’s latest diplomatic mission has further confirmed just how far off the first option is. The possibility of a new escalation is therefore becoming increasingly likely, and the place where this might occur is not necessarily Ukraine, but Europe.

This does not mean that Russia is necessarily preparing a conventional invasion of the continent. An escalation could take various forms, ranging from drone attacks (which are already taking place) to actions designed to test European states’ ability to respond in a coordinated manner. The aim could be to test the credibility of European deterrence and the resilience of NATO’s Article 5.

A direct crisis with Europe could also offer Putin a significant domestic advantage. After almost five years of war, a new wave of mobilisation involving 300,000 or 500,000 soldiers would be increasingly difficult to justify to the Russian population as a mere necessity to continue fighting against Ukraine. For the Kremlin, it would be politically easier to present this as a response to a broader, existential threat – that posed by Europe and NATO.

In this context, the gradual erosion of the perception of NATO’s deterrent capability must also be taken into account. In recent years, and particularly under Trump, the credibility of the US commitment to European defence has been called into question much more openly than in the past. What matters is not necessarily whether this perception is accurate, but how it is interpreted by the Kremlin. If Moscow believes that, in the event of a limited attack on the Baltic states, the United States might hesitate or seek to avoid a direct confrontation, then the temptation to test Article 5 increases.

Added to this is the Russian belief that it has developed a significant advantage over the Europeans in modern warfare, particularly in the use of drones. And this belief is not entirely without foundation. The Ukrainian battlefield has served as a vast testing ground for contemporary warfare, offering not only Ukraine but also Russia first-hand experience of high-intensity warfare that no European army possesses to the same extent. Moscow has adapted its tactics, developed new technologies, increased industrial production and accumulated a wealth of military experience that could also be utilised beyond Ukraine.

It is in this context that the attacks using explosive-laden drones and the acts of sabotage attributed to Russia – including the Leipzig/Halle incident – must be viewed, alongside the increasingly aggressive rhetoric from the Kremlin. When Sergei Lavrov comments on the German reaction to the accusations against Moscow by stating that, if Berlin believes Russia is behind an attack, then this means we are facing a real war, he is not merely engaging in a diplomatic dispute; he is helping to normalise the idea of a direct confrontation between Russia and Europe.

The third strand of Russia’s strategy is closely linked to the first two and is perhaps the one that Europe continues to underestimate the most: Russia is aiming for the political disintegration of the European Union.

It is within this context that Russia’s ability to find political allies across various European ideological camps must be understood. On the one hand, there are the forces of the radical right and the sovereignty movement, ranging from the AfD in Germany to Marine Le Pen in France, right through to the positions represented in Italy by Roberto Vannacci and sections of the populist and sovereignty-oriented right. On the other hand, there are pro-Russian positions strongly opposed to military support for Kyiv within sections of the European left, ranging from Die Linke in Germany to the views of Jean-Luc Mélenchon in France, and including the Five Star Movement in Italy.

Of course, these political forces have very different histories, programmes and positions, and it would be simplistic to treat them as a single bloc. But from the Kremlin’s strategic perspective, what matters is not the ideological identity of its interlocutors, but rather the political effect that certain positions may produce. If a significant part of the European political system calls for a reduction or cessation of military aid to Ukraine, a slowdown in the process of European rearmament and an obstacle to greater political integration, the result aligns with Russia’s strategic interests.

Moscow’s minimum objective is to halt military aid to Ukraine. Its more ambitious aim is to prevent the war from resulting in greater European integration and the emergence of a militarily stronger and politically more autonomous Europe.

If this is the reality, then the European approach to the war must also change. We must finally admit that as long as Putin remains in the Kremlin, it is difficult to imagine the war coming to an end of its own accord, and the stability of the Russian economy remains one of the fundamental conditions enabling the regime to remain in power.

We have long since lost count of the number of sanctions packages adopted by the European Union. We are well over twenty, but this figure does not necessarily represent a sign of strength. It can also be interpreted as a symbol of the excessive caution with which Europe has tackled the problem. Each new package has essentially followed the same logic – introducing new measures gradually and progressively increasing the pressure. However, this approach has given Russia time to adapt. And so Moscow has found new markets, built new supply chains and gradually transformed its economy into a war economy.

Meanwhile, Europe has continued to purchase huge quantities of Russian liquefied natural gas. Completely halting these purchases would certainly come at a cost and could lead to a rise in energy prices. But we must stop pretending that the alternative is to pay no price at all. We are already paying a price. The Ukrainians are paying it in human lives, and Europe risks paying an ever-higher price in terms of security and instability.

For this reason, continuing with small packages of incremental sanctions is no longer sufficient. It is necessary to utilise all available sanctioning tools within a single, coherent strategy aimed at genuinely undermining Russia’s economic stability and causing its collapse.

The second decision concerns frozen Russian assets. More than 200 billion euros’ worth of Russian assets frozen in Europe must be used to directly fund Ukraine’s defence, enabling Kyiv to have a more stable financial position that is less dependent on political fluctuations in European capitals.

This decision should not be postponed, particularly given what might happen in 2027, when several European countries will face major elections. There is a real risk that radical right-wing, populist or anti-military-support-for-Kyiv forces could come to power in some capitals, and in that context, continuing to fund Ukraine through new European loans or political decisions requiring increasingly complex agreements could become much more difficult.

If Russia continues to seek political control over Ukraine, if it is preparing new forms of escalation against Europe and if, at the same time, it is working to divide and weaken the European Union, then the European response must also change. A gradualist approach must give way to a strategy based on the reality of Russia’s objectives, rather than on the hope that the Kremlin will, sooner or later, decide to act in accordance with our logic.

Genuine negotiations will not begin when the West finds the right diplomatic format or when a new territorial proposal is put forward. They will only be possible once the Russian economic system collapses.