ANALYSIS: Anchorage, Istanbul, MFA: the Kremlin's three maximalist mantras

The strategy of disguised maximalism

There is a constant in Vladimir Putin's diplomacy since the start of the full-scale war: the objectives have never changed, only the vocabulary adapts to the audience. In June 2026, three recurring references resurface in Kremlin declarations — the Istanbul 2022 agreements, the alleged "Anchorage modalities," and the official positions of the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFA) under Sergei Lavrov. Together they form a triptych of Russian maximalism that ISW analysts decoded on June 23, 2026.

These three references are not starting points for negotiation. They constitute a prefabricated framework within which Moscow intends to confine any future discussion. Accepting them as a basis for dialogue already means accepting the terms of Ukrainian surrender. That is why understanding them in detail is an analytical necessity before any serious mediation attempt.

Why the ISW is sounding the alarm

The ISW, in its report of June 23, 2026, insists that recent declarations by Putin and Lavrov represent "no evolution" from Russia's 2022 positions. This point deserves strong emphasis, as it runs counter to numerous analyses that have presented these declarations as a sign of openness. There is no opening. There is a reiteration.

Meduza, the independent Russian exile media, also reported on June 23, 2026 Putin's declarations of readiness to negotiate "on the basis of the Istanbul agreements." And Pravda Ukraine, the same day, analyzes how this position amounts to demanding total Ukrainian capitulation. The convergence of these analyses is revealing: what Putin calls "negotiation," the world used to call a "diktat."

I feel a weariness watching these Russian diplomatic cycles. Putin says "I want to negotiate," Western chancelleries stir, experts debate, and in the end we discover that the Russian conditions are exactly the same as two years ago. It is the same shell game, replayed with slightly different words. And some people are still falling for it.

Forced neutrality: banning Ukraine from defending itself

The first core demand of the Istanbul 2022 draft agreements was "permanent neutrality" for Ukraine — a constitutionally inscribed neutrality implying a ban on joining military alliances, notably NATO. This demand, presented as a regional security guarantee, is in reality exactly the opposite: it is a guarantee of insecurity for Ukraine.

A constitutionally neutralized Ukraine cannot collectively defend itself with its allies. It cannot benefit from Article 5 of the North Atlantic Treaty. It remains alone facing a Russia that has demonstrated its willingness to use force. This "neutrality" would protect Ukraine from nothing. It would make it an easier target for the next invasion — scheduled as soon as the Kremlin judges its forces sufficiently rebuilt.

Limitations on armed forces: a paper army

The Istanbul drafts also included drastic caps on Ukrainian armed forces — in terms of troop numbers, heavy equipment, and the range of weapons systems. In practice, this would have meant dismantling the military capabilities that Ukraine has developed, at immense sacrifice, since 2014. It is a demand for unilateral disarmament, presented as a "confidence-building measure."

The precedent of the Budapest Memorandum of 1994 is starkly clear here. Ukraine had then renounced its inherited Soviet nuclear arsenal in exchange for security guarantees from the great powers. Those guarantees proved empty when Russia annexed Crimea in 2014. To repeat the experiment of disarmament under Russian promises would not merely be naive — it would be irresponsible.

Asking Ukraine to limit its armed forces after Russia has invaded twice in eight years is like asking a victim of repeated violence to disarm on the promise that the aggressor has changed. It is a logic no one would accept in their own life. Why would it be accepted at the geopolitical level?

Anchorage: what exactly is Russia claiming?

The reference to the "Anchorage modalities" is more opaque and more difficult to document than the Istanbul agreements. This term apparently refers to discussions that allegedly took place on the sidelines of diplomatic meetings between American and Russian representatives, potentially linked to discussions on the Arctic or other bilateral matters. Russia claims these discussions included elements relating to Ukraine.

The strategy is visible: by invoking conversations whose exact content is not publicly documented, Moscow claims to have obtained "implicit concessions" or "informal recognitions" from American interlocutors. It is a classic technique of multi-track diplomacy: using the ambiguity of informal discussions to anchor positions that official interlocutors have never explicitly endorsed.

Why this reference is dangerous for the West

For Western governments, and particularly the American administration, Russia's reference to the "Anchorage modalities" creates a dilemma. Either they categorically deny that these discussions took place or that they touched on Ukraine — which requires a diplomatic transparency that some services prefer to avoid. Or they let the ambiguity subsist — and Russia exploits this silence to build a legitimizing narrative for its positions.

The solution is simple but politically sensitive: total clarity about what was said and what was not said during all American–Russian diplomatic interactions. The Trump administration, which multiplied informal channels with Moscow, must ensure that these discussions are not reinterpreted by the Kremlin as implicit concessions on issues vital to Ukraine.

Informal diplomatic channels have their uses. But when Russia uses them to build a narrative of unverifiable American concessions, secret diplomacy becomes a problem. Trump must publicly clarify what Anchorage meant or did not mean. Silence here is a form of involuntary collaboration with Kremlin propaganda.

Lavrov as an instrument of capitulation rhetoric

Sergei Lavrov, Russia's Foreign Minister since 2004, is one of the world's most experienced diplomats. His expertise must not be confused with his good faith. Lavrov is an instrument of Putin's policy, not a moderator. His declarations, carefully formulated to sound diplomatically reasonable to uninitiated Western ears, invariably translate the same maximalist Kremlin positions.

In June 2026, Lavrov's declarations reaffirmed Russia's 2022 war aims in different formulations — according to ISW analysis. This is no surprise to anyone closely following Russian diplomatic developments. But for less specialized observers, Lavrov's polished tone may seem different from Putin's inflammatory declarations. That is exactly the role he plays: offering a facade of moderation in the service of an uncompromising imperial project.

Lavrov's art of the infinite clause

Lavrov has perfected a particular diplomatic technique: formulating conditions that seem reasonable on the surface but contain infinitely extensible clauses. "Russia is ready to negotiate if Ukraine takes into account the realities on the ground" — this phrase sounds moderate. But "realities on the ground" is an unlimited concept that Russia can expand at will with the military situation. It is a condition that can never be satisfied, except by total capitulation.

Similarly, "taking into account Russia's security interests" is an open formulation that has historically meant "Ukraine cannot join NATO," then "Ukraine cannot have a significant army," then "Ukraine must recognize the annexations" — the list extends as far as Moscow finds useful. Decoding this Russian diplomatic language is an indispensable skill for any Western actor involved in this conflict.

Lavrov is perhaps the most talented diplomat at making the capitulation demanded of others compatible with the grammar of international diplomacy. It is a talent I almost admire intellectually, if I set aside the service it renders to an illegal military aggression. In another context, it would be fascinating. In this one, it is dangerous.

The temptations of precipitate mediation

Faced with this Russian maximalist framework, certain Western governments yield to the temptation of "precipitate mediation" — finding an agreement at any cost to end a conflict whose domestic political costs they can barely stomach. This temptation is understandable. It is also profoundly dangerous.

Precipitate mediation that accepted Russian terms — even under a more palatable rhetorical wrapping — would produce a "peace" that rewards aggression, demoralizes democracies, and sends China, Iran, and North Korea the message that territorial conquest works provided you hold on long enough. It is a precedent the international order cannot afford.

Sound diplomacy: clarity on minimum conditions

The correct diplomatic response to Russian maximalism is not total deadlock. It is clarity on non-negotiable conditions. The West, as a whole, must articulate common clear positions: Russian withdrawal from sovereign Ukrainian territories, genuine security mechanisms for Ukraine, accountability for war crimes. These conditions must be non-negotiable, and they must be communicated to Moscow without ambiguity.

As long as Moscow maintains its maximalist demands, there is no basis for a fair negotiation. It is not Ukraine or the West that is blocking peace. It is Putin who refuses to retreat from his imperial ambitions. This reality must be named clearly, relentlessly, in every diplomatic forum.

Clarity is the best weapon against Russian rhetorical maximalism. When the West says clearly "here are our non-negotiable conditions, and they are grounded in international law," it deprives Putin of the misunderstood victim posture he favors. Clarity is diplomacy that works. Accommodating vagueness is camouflaged capitulation.

The 76th exchange: 160 for 160, Emirati mediation

While major peace negotiations are deadlocked, a modest but crucial humanitarian channel is functioning: prisoner of war exchanges. On June 26, 2026, the 76th exchange was completed on the principle of 160 for 160, with mediation by the United Arab Emirates, according to the Kyiv Independent. Zelensky confirmed that 1,596 Ukrainians have returned since the start of 2026, and more than 9,500 since 2022.

These figures represent human lives — soldiers who were tortured, civilians illegally detained, families reunited. These exchanges are possible precisely because they operate in a distinct register from political negotiations. The UAE can play this role because they have relations with both sides and because the humanitarian register partly escapes the political calculations that paralyze peace negotiations.

The limit of exchanges: a humanitarian channel without political translation

But we must be lucid about what these exchanges are not. They do not signal that Moscow and Kyiv are moving toward agreement on fundamental political questions. They do not represent a "normalization" of relations. And they must not be used by Moscow to claim it is acting in "good faith" in peace negotiations.

Each humanitarian exchange is a victory for the families concerned. It is also, for Zelensky, a demonstration of his government's priority for its soldiers and citizens. But these humanitarian victories coexist with total diplomatic deadlock on the fundamental questions. They must be celebrated for what they are, without being made to be more than they are.

These 160 Ukrainian soldiers returning home on June 26, 2026 — that is a human victory I salute without reservation. And simultaneously, it is the demonstration that you can conduct punctual deals with Moscow on specific humanitarian questions without it implying the slightest evolution on the core issues. These two realities coexist. We must hold both at once.

Naming things clearly: a political responsibility

Faced with the Kremlin's carefully calibrated formulations, Western governments and media have a particular responsibility: name things precisely. When Putin speaks of "negotiation," it must be specified "on terms equivalent to Ukrainian capitulation." When Lavrov speaks of "realities on the ground," it must be specified "illegal territorial conquests maintained by force." This clarification work is not partisanship — it is analytical precision.

Media editors, government spokespersons, academics, and experts commenting on the conflict all share a responsibility for maintaining this lexical clarity. Allowing Russia's vocabulary to progressively impose itself in Western discourse means offering Moscow a rhetorical victory that prepares political capitulations. The care taken with words is not pedantry — it is resistance.

Information as a theater of war: lessons to draw

The information war that Russia wages against the West is documented, permanent, and sophisticated. Networks of fake accounts amplify Russian narratives on social media. Kremlin-aligned media distribute translations of their content in European languages. Opaque funding channels support European politicians favorable to Moscow. This information war is not won only with counter-narratives — it is won with institutional clarity on facts.

Investing in factual clarity, training journalists to decode Russian diplomatic rhetoric, equipping fact-checking institutions with adequate resources — these are priorities that Western governments must treat with the same urgency as physical defense spending. The war is being fought on Ukrainian battlefields, yes. But it is also being fought in the minds of European voters who will form the political majorities of tomorrow.

Lexical clarity in discourse about the Ukrainian war is not an intellectual luxury. It is a strategic necessity. When words lose their meaning — when "negotiation" can mean "ultimatum" and "peace" can mean "capitulation" — collective resistance erodes. Defending the precision of language is defending democracy. I believe that deeply.

Building a durable support coalition

Ukrainian diplomacy must inscribe itself in the long term. Beyond managing immediate crises — Russian strikes, weapons shortages, diplomatic blockages — Kyiv must build a durable support coalition that will survive changes of government in allied capitals. This coalition must be institutionally anchored, not solely dependent on personal relationships between leaders.

The peace conferences organized by Ukraine, bilateral security agreements, candidacy for the EU and NATO — all these initiatives contribute to institutionalizing international support. The more commitments are codified in treaties and permanent mechanisms, the less vulnerable they are to political reversals.

Reconstruction as a diplomatic tool

The reconstruction of Ukraine after the war is as much a diplomatic challenge as a humanitarian one. International reconstruction conferences have already laid the foundations for a long-term commitment from many states and institutions. This commitment creates economic interests in Ukrainian success that reinforce political support. Countries investing in Ukrainian reconstruction have a financial interest in seeing Ukraine prosperous and stable.

This mechanism of converging economic and political interests is one of Ukraine's most durable diplomatic resources. It transforms support for Ukraine from a moral position into a concrete economic interest for dozens of countries. This transformation is one that Ukrainian diplomacy must continue to cultivate actively, alongside the management of short-term crises.

Reconstruction of Ukraine as a diplomatic tool — I find this idea intellectually elegant and strategically sound. We transform Russian destruction into an opportunity to create bonds of interest with dozens of countries. Every reconstruction contract is a vote for Ukraine. Every foreign investor is one more lobbyist for its security. Putin has created, without meaning to, a mechanism of lasting solidarity.

Three mantras, one single objective: Ukrainian capitulation

Istanbul, Anchorage, MFA — these three references form a rhetorical triptych in service of one constant objective: obtaining Ukraine's capitulation without it looking like capitulation. The form varies, the substance remains immutable. Russia wants a Ukraine neutralized, disarmed, territorially amputated, and incapable of resisting the next Russian pressure.

Understanding this, expressing it clearly, and refusing to be trapped by the Kremlin's diplomatic vocabulary — that is the most urgent analytical and political task for Western governments. The ISW did it on June 23, 2026. It is time for the chancelleries to follow suit with the same clarity.

Ukraine deserves a just peace, not a hasty one

Zelensky has said and repeated that he wants peace — but a peace grounded in justice, international law, and genuine security guarantees. This is a reasonable position, legitimately founded and strategically coherent. The West must uphold it against pressure for a hasty deal that would sacrifice Ukraine on the altar of Western political convenience.

The Kremlin's three mantras are traps. Recognizing them as such, naming them, refusing them — that is the minimum dignity the West owes to a country that has been fighting for more than four years for its values and for ours.

Anchorage, Istanbul, MFA — three labels for the same immutable demand: that Ukraine submit. A West that understands this and says it clearly intellectually arms its own populations against Russian disinformation. A West that hesitates to say it, for fear of "closing doors," is in reality opening the door to progressive capitulation. There is no third path here.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist

Editorial stance

I am not a journalist but a columnist and analyst. My expertise lies in observing and analysing the geopolitical, economic and strategic dynamics that shape our world. My work is to take political strategies apart, to understand global economic movements, to put the decisions of international actors in context and to offer analytical perspectives on the changes that are redefining our societies.

I do not claim the cold objectivity of traditional journalism, which stops at reporting facts. I claim analytical clarity, rigorous interpretation and a deep understanding of the complex issues that concern us all. My role is to give meaning to the facts, to place them in their historical and strategic context, and to offer a critical reading of events.

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