COMMENTARY: A Zelensky-Putin Meeting? The Dictator's Friends Have Received the Message

The message circulating in Moscow's antechambers

On June 26, 2026, President Volodymyr Zelensky confirmed what some diplomats have been whispering for weeks: Ukraine had transmitted proposals not only to its "key partners" — Washington, Brussels, London — but also to the "friends" of the Russian president. These friends, these discreet intermediaries who frequent the Kremlin's corridors while maintaining commercial or political relations with the West, received a clear message: "A meeting is possible and ending this war is possible. Russia must take that first step toward peace."

This diplomacy through the interstices is neither naive nor desperate — it is a pragmatic and intelligent reading of Russian reality. Putin will not respond to an open letter or a press statement. But he is sensitive to signals that reach him via channels he considers safe — regimes close to him, heads of state who trade with Russia despite sanctions, intermediaries who understand both the language of Moscow and that of the West. It is to these men and women that Zelensky is sending his message.

The context: a 40-day influence operation

This diplomatic initiative forms part of a broader influence operation approved by Zelensky on June 25, 2026: a 40-day campaign by the Security Service of Ukraine (SBU) to "push Russia to end the war." This operation combines military elements — deep strikes against Russian infrastructure — and diplomatic elements, including the transmission of messages through unofficial channels.

Zelensky has named this combination with memorable imagery: the deep drone strikes on Russian territory are Ukraine's "long-range sanctions," the intermediate-range strikes are "medium-range sanctions." This inventive rhetoric underscores the link between military pressure and diplomatic pressure — the two arms of a single strategy aimed at making the cost of the war unacceptable for Moscow while simultaneously offering an honorable way out.

This formula of "long-range sanctions" appeals to me. It is clever because it reverses the narrative: it is no longer only the West sanctioning Russia from a distance, it is Ukraine itself imposing real, measurable costs on Russian territory. Zelensky is turning his drones into a diplomatic lever. That is a strategic sophistication few would have anticipated in 2022.

The non-aligned countries that keep the bridges open

The phrase "Putin's friends" designates a heterogeneous set of countries that have refused to join Western sanctions and maintain diplomatic and commercial relations with Moscow. China is the largest of these "friends" — it supplies Russia with dual-use electronic components, manufactured goods replacing Western imports, and consistent diplomatic backing at UN votes. India has been buying Russian oil at discounted prices since 2022, becoming one of Moscow's primary customers.

But the circle of intermediaries includes more surprising countries as well. Erdogan's Turkey — a NATO member — has maintained relations with Moscow, facilitating trade exchanges and hosting past negotiations. The United Arab Emirates have served as a hub for partial evasion of Russian sanctions. Israel, despite its own tensions with Russia, maintains historic communication channels with the Kremlin. These are the channels that Kyiv is seeking to activate.

Turkey as the central pivot of mediation

Within this geography of influence, Turkey occupies a particularly strategic position. It was in Istanbul that talks were held in March-April 2022. It is Ankara that hosts the NATO summit on July 7-8, 2026. And it is Erdogan who facilitated the agreement on Ukrainian grain exports via the Black Sea — an agreement Russia ultimately withdrew from, but which demonstrated Turkey's capacity to play a credible mediator role for both parties.

Erdogan's presence both within NATO and in circles of dialogue with Moscow places him in a unique position. He has Putin's ear — the two men speak directly and regularly — and the institutional legitimacy of a Western ally. If anyone can transmit the Ukrainian message in a way Moscow will hear, it is him. There is no small irony in the fact that a country that regularly blocks NATO decisions is also its best intermediary with the enemy.

Erdogan is one of the most calculating actors in this geopolitics. He has used the war in Ukraine as leverage to extract concessions from NATO — Swedish fighter jets, security guarantees, recognition of his interests in Syria. Zelensky knows what he is getting into by calling on him. But in crisis diplomacy, you choose the available intermediaries, not the perfect ones.

Strikes as a diplomatic argument

Zelensky's strategy rests on a brutally simple equation: as long as Ukraine strikes Russian territory with increasing intensity, the cost of the war for Moscow rises. The night of June 25-26, 2026 — the largest Ukrainian drone wave of the year, with 660 drones intercepted by Russian defenses according to Moscow's own figures. Strikes on the Titan-Barrikady plant in Volgograd with Flamingo missiles. The Vtorovo pumping station struck for the second time that month. These acts are not only military — they are arguments in a negotiation not yet opened.

This is the audacious paradox of Ukraine's position: strike harder in order, possibly, to talk. Each oil facility destroyed, each refinery set ablaze, each drone that penetrates Russian defenses sends a message to Moscow: Russia is not invulnerable on its own territory. And if Putin wants to protect these facilities, he must either find a military solution to Ukraine's strike capacity — which appears increasingly difficult — or find a political one.

The simultaneous offer of peace

Alongside the strikes, the offer of dialogue is maintained with consistency. The open letter of June 4, 2026 to Putin. The proposals to the "dictator's friends" on June 26. The reaffirmation that Kyiv is "ready for meetings" but that Russia "must take the first step." This combination of pressure and offer is classic coercive diplomacy — it is called the "carrot and stick" strategy, and it works when one of the two is sufficiently credible to make the other attractive.

In Ukraine's case, the "stick" — the deep-strike capability — has become extraordinarily credible in June 2026. 35 percent of all verified Ukrainian strikes inside Russia since the beginning of the year occurred in that single month of June. The "carrot" — the offer of dialogue — is equally credible: Zelensky wrote directly to Putin, proposing a meeting in any neutral country, without preconditions on substance. This combination constitutes an appeal to reason that Putin can hear — if he chooses to.

I want to believe that Putin hears these messages. But I must also be honest: nothing in his behavior since 2022 suggests he responds to classical diplomatic logic. He calculated that he could strike Ukraine with impunity. That calculation is proving wrong. Is that enough to make him pivot toward negotiation? I hope so. I don't know.

The conditions set by each side

A direct meeting between Zelensky and Putin remains the most spectacular peace scenario — and the most difficult to arrange. The conditions set by the two sides are for now incompatible. Putin considers Zelensky "illegitimate" — his logic being that the Ukrainian president has not held elections in wartime, which would put him outside democratic legitimacy. This accusation is of obvious bad faith coming from a leader who organizes elections without real opposition, but it serves as a convenient pretext for avoiding direct contact.

Putin has also declared that he would only engage in direct negotiations with Zelensky to "finalize a pre-arranged agreement" — in other words, only after Ukrainian concessions have already been locked in by intermediaries. This is the exact inverse of what Kyiv proposes, which is to negotiate before granting concessions, not after. This methodological gap compounds the substantive gaps on territory and security.

The precedents that give hope

Despite these obstacles, historical precedents allow for cautious hope. Crisis diplomacy has often produced unexpected breakthroughs. In 1962, Kennedy and Khrushchev found a solution to the Cuban Missile Crisis through days of intense indirect communication. In 1993, the Oslo Accords emerged from secret negotiations between parties who had sworn never to speak to each other. These examples show that public maximum positions are not always the actual negotiating positions.

In the Russian-Ukrainian case, indirect contacts have never entirely ceased. Prisoner-of-war exchanges — 160 Ukrainian soldiers freed recently — require de facto coordination between the two sides. Discussions on the Zaporizhzhia nuclear plant through the IAEA imply indirect communication. Turkish mediation and other channels remain active. A summit meeting is possible — if the pressure becomes strong enough on both sides.

I remain cautiously skeptical about a Zelensky-Putin meeting before the winter of 2026. Not because it is impossible — theoretically it is — but because Putin has built his entire rhetoric around Zelensky's illegitimacy. Meeting him face to face in a room would mean contradicting his own public positions. Dictators rarely make that kind of public about-face without sufficient pressure compelling them to do so.

China, the most powerful and most reluctant intermediary

In the pantheon of "Putin's friends," China is both the most powerful and the most difficult to mobilize. Xi Jinping has his own interests in this war: a weakened but not collapsed Russia, a disruption of the West that distracts Washington from the Indo-Pacific, and a supply of Russian raw materials at low prices. A Russia that makes peace with Ukraine — especially a peace unfavorable to Moscow — is not in Beijing's immediate interest.

And yet, China is also sensitive to the risks of this conflict spilling over. An escalation between Russia and NATO would destabilize global markets and threaten Chinese investments in Europe. A Russia mired indefinitely in an increasingly costly war becomes a less useful and more dependent ally. Xi has every interest in a resolution that stabilizes Russia — even if that doesn't mean Ukraine's maximum aspirations being denied.

Arab and African countries: underutilized channels

Beyond China, the Gulf Arab countries — United Arab Emirates, Saudi Arabia, Qatar — have an ambivalent but real relationship with Russia. OPEC+ oil negotiations maintain a form of regular coordination between Moscow and Riyadh. The UAE has hosted sensitive diplomatic meetings — including some on Ukraine — and maintains communication channels with both parties.

South Africa and other African countries — several of them having historic Cold War-era ties with Moscow — proposed mediation initiatives in 2023 that did not lead anywhere but demonstrated a willingness to play a role. These non-Western channels are precisely the ones that Zelensky is seeking to activate through his 40-day influence operation — messages transmitted in diplomatic languages that Putin can hear without losing face with his domestic public.

The "diplomacy of Putin's friends" reminds me of the geopolitics of the 1970s, when Henry Kissinger navigated between Washington, Moscow, and Beijing through channels nobody could see publicly. There is something ironic in the fact that Ukraine — a young democracy born from the ashes of the USSR — now has to master the art of back-channels to survive. It is learning fast.

Signals coming from Moscow

Despite the Kremlin's uncompromising public declarations, more nuanced signals sometimes emerge from Moscow. Lavrov repeated on June 23, 2026 that Russia is ready for negotiations "at any time" — while conditioning this on the Istanbul 2022 framework. RBC-Ukraine reported on June 26 that a meeting between the two presidents is "possible" according to certain circles — without specifying which, suggesting diplomatic sources who prefer not to be identified.

These ambiguous signals are part of a classic Russian tactic: maintaining ambiguity to preserve options without committing to anything. Putin neither wants to say clearly "no" to any meeting — that would present a monolithic front stripping his diplomats of room to maneuver — nor say "yes" — that would validate Zelensky's legitimacy and show a flexibility that his domestic public would not forgive. Strategic ambiguity is the default position of autocrats in difficulty.

The war as an instrument of indirect negotiation

In this context of orchestrated ambiguity, the war itself becomes an instrument of indirect negotiation. Each Ukrainian strike on Russian infrastructure is a signal: "this is what the status quo costs you." Each day that Putin chooses not to respond to Zelensky's offer is another day of drone attacks, burning refineries, destroyed pumping stations. The pressure rises gradually, with the hope that at some level of cost, the Kremlin's calculation will shift.

Ukraine has learned to read Russia's pain threshold with increasing precision. The destruction of approximately 20 percent of Russian petroleum refining capacity according to the Wall Street Journal is a strong signal — oil is the financial lifeline of Putin's war machine. If this destruction continues to accelerate, at some point even the dictator's "friends" will advise him that the war costs more than the peace.

20 percent of Russian refining capacity destroyed or damaged. That number stops me cold. It is a quiet economic campaign that produces real effects on Russian revenues, on war financing, on Putin's capacity to maintain his regime. Ukraine cannot defeat Russia militarily on the ground — but it can bleed it economically until the calculation changes. That is a form of warfare few had anticipated.

Available negotiating platforms

If a meeting were to take place, the format and location would be thorny questions. In his open letter of June 2026, Zelensky had proposed several neutral countries capable of hosting such a meeting: Switzerland, Turkey, and various Arab countries. These choices are strategic: countries that have a credibility of neutrality or mediation, and that can guarantee the physical and diplomatic security of both delegations.

Switzerland, despite its alignment with European sanctions against Russia, maintains its historic role as a site for sensitive diplomacy. Turkey, as noted, has both parties' trust. The Arab countries — Qatar, UAE, Saudi Arabia — have high-level diplomatic infrastructure and experience in crisis negotiations. Kyiv is ready to adapt to any format — substance matters more than packaging.

The question of European representation

One of Zelensky's diplomatic innovations in June 2026 was to declare that he himself decides who represents Europe in talks. This audacious statement reflects real frustration: Europe, fragmented between different positions on the speed and conditions of a potential agreement, struggles to speak with one voice. Some countries — France, Germany — have at times seemed to want to push toward an agreement more quickly than Kyiv considers acceptable.

By taking control over who defines European representation, Zelensky ensures that his interlocutors in any potential negotiations will be those who share his vision of a dignified peace — the United Kingdom, Poland, the Baltic states — rather than those who might be tempted by a premature compromise. This is a form of Ukrainian leadership over European policy that nobody would have imagined possible four years ago.

Zelensky deciding who represents Europe in Ukrainian peace negotiations — that is one of the most stunning sentences I have read in recent months. It says everything about how far things have come: from a country some gave 72 hours in February 2022 to a geopolitical actor that selects its European interlocutors. History sometimes produces reversals that nobody dared imagine in advance.

The questions on the table

If a direct meeting were to take place, the questions on the table would be both technical and existential. On the technical side: ceasefire and demarcation lines, prisoner exchange and return of deported children, humanitarian access to occupied areas, guarantees on the Zaporizhzhia nuclear plant. These questions can be negotiated pragmatically if the political will is there.

On the existential side: the status of occupied territories, the question of Ukraine's NATO membership, reparations for damages inflicted, and the question of accountability for war crimes. These questions touch the foundations of Ukrainian sovereignty and the credibility of any future international order. They cannot be resolved in a single meeting — but a meeting could create a process framework, establish a first level of trust, and allow technical teams to begin working.

The Minsk Accords precedent as an anti-model

Ukraine's primary fear in any negotiating process is reproducing the experience of the Minsk I and II Accords (2014-2015): agreements signed under pressure that froze the Donbas conflict without resolving its root causes, and gave Russia eight years to prepare for a larger-scale offensive. An agreement that addresses symptoms without treating causes would be worse than no agreement — it would give Putin a strategic truce without constraint.

This is why Zelensky insists on the necessity of credible security guarantees — not promises, but verifiable institutional commitments. And why his European allies have formulated conditions that include Russian accountability for war crimes. An agreement that glossed over Bucha, the deported children, the deliberate destruction of civilian infrastructure would be politically impossible to defend in Ukraine — and morally unacceptable to the West.

The Minsk Accords proved that some agreements are worse than no agreement. They legitimized the de facto occupation of Donbas, normalized the presence of Moscow-armed "separatists," and left Ukraine in a permanent state of security ambiguity. Zelensky is right to set red lines on the form of any future agreement. The form of the peace determines its durability.

The 21st sanctions package and its effects on Russian calculations

The 21st European sanctions package of June 2026 tightened the economic vise on Russia further. The shadow fleet transporting Russian oil in circumvention of sanctions is now more directly targeted. The oil price cap has been lowered to $44.10 per barrel — a level that is beginning to bite into Russia's budget margins. Russian GDP contracted by 0.2 percent in the first quarter of 2026, the deficit stands at 3 percent of GDP, and 40 percent of public spending goes to the war.

Putin responded by extending his ban on sales to price-cap-compliant countries through the end of 2027 — a measure that primarily punishes Russians themselves by reducing oil export outlets. This decision illustrates the fundamental contradiction of his position: maintaining a posture of defiance while watching oil revenues erode. Zelensky's sanctions advisers call this situation a "dead end" — and they are not wrong.

Putin's internal weakness: myth or reality?

The question of the internal solidity of the Putin regime is one of the most debated among analysts. After the Wagner group's attempted mutiny in June 2023, many anticipated accelerated fragility. This fragility did not materialize as quickly as hoped — repression continued, Russian elites remained aligned, and nationalist propaganda maintained sufficient apparent popular support to continue the war.

But beneath this surface of solidity, documented cracks exist. Russian families without news of sons sent to Ukraine. The demographic pressure of a population losing its working-age men at the rate of thousands per week. The exodus of educated middle classes and entrepreneurs who left Russia in mass since 2022. Inflation eating away at pensioners' savings. These pressures do not topple a well-organized authoritarian regime easily — but they create a context in which a credible message of peace can find unexpected resonance among elites who are beginning to calculate their own survival.

I have no illusions about the short-term solidity of the Putin regime. Well-organized authoritarian regimes can survive for a long time despite a struggling economy and significant military losses — Iran has been doing it since 1979. But they don't last forever. And the accumulation of pressures creates conditions where a peace signal, even from an adversary, can sometimes find takers among elites who are beginning to calculate their own future.

The symbolism of direct contact

Beyond the practical aspects, a Zelensky-Putin meeting would carry considerable symbolic value for the international order. It would confirm that international law — state sovereignty, territorial integrity, the legitimacy of elected governments — takes precedence over the imperial ambitions of great powers. It would validate Ukraine's resistance strategy as not only morally right but also strategically effective.

It would also send a signal to potential future aggressors — to China regarding Taiwan, to other regimes watching this conflict as a test of Western responses. If Ukraine obtains a dignified peace through its resistance and Western support, the message is clear: aggression does not pay, and the West keeps its commitments. That is a strategic message with implications far beyond the Ukrainian steppes.

The responsibility of history

This war has already changed Europe for at least a generation. Two new democracies — Finland and Sweden — joined NATO. European defense spending has surged. The PURL mechanism has created an unprecedented architecture of multilateral military support. Russia has been expelled from all European cooperation mechanisms. These changes are irreversible, with or without a peace agreement.

The question is whether, in addition to these structural transformations, this generation will also produce a peace — a peace that is not a capitulation, a peace that does not set the stage for the next war, a peace that allows millions of Ukrainians to live without fear of the next missile. Zelensky has done everything in his power to create the conditions for that peace. Putin's friends now have the message. It is for Putin to decide whether he hears it.

Putin's friends have heard Zelensky's message. But the most important messenger in this story may be the Ukrainian drone burning a refinery in Moscow. That drone carries no diplomatic words — it carries a factual argument: the war costs, and that cost will not diminish as long as Putin refuses to take the first step toward peace. That is the most brutal form of diplomacy. But sometimes it is the only kind that works.

The military-diplomatic logic of the operation

The 40-day influence operation approved by Zelensky on June 25, 2026 is an attempt at maximum coordinated pressure before the negotiating window closes with winter. In 40 days — through to early August — the SBU and Ukrainian armed forces will intensify deep strikes, multiply diplomatic contacts through identified intermediaries, and maintain international media pressure on Russia for its violations of humanitarian law.

This time concentration is deliberate. Forty days is long enough to produce cumulative effects on Russian infrastructure and Kremlin calculations, and short enough to sustain maximum operational intensity without exhausting Ukrainian military resources. It is also a signal to the entire international community that Kyiv is serious in its desire to force a diplomatic outcome before winter — which legitimizes urgent demands for additional support through PURL and other mechanisms.

The 40 days and the Ankara summit

This 40-day operation is perfectly synchronized with the diplomatic calendar. The NATO summit in Ankara on July 7-8, 2026 — just 12 days after the operation's launch — will be a crucial moment. If Ukraine demonstrates, during those two weeks of intensified strikes, that its military capacity is intact and growing, it will arrive at the summit from a position of strength. NATO allies, impressed by the concrete results of Ukraine's strategy, will be more inclined to make substantial financial and diplomatic commitments.

Conversely, if the 40 days produce no notable signal from Moscow, they will at least have demonstrated that military pressure alone is not enough — which strengthens the case for intensified diplomatic pressure, even harder sanctions, and even more massive military support. In every scenario, the 40-day operation is a gain for Ukraine — either it produces a signal from Putin, or it justifies an intensification of international pressure.

The 40-day operation is elegant in its conception. It creates a defined, measurable, communicable time frame. It allows Zelensky to tell his allies: "Give us 40 days of maximum support, and we'll see if that produces a movement from Moscow." That is a diplomatic request dressed up as a military operation — and it is brilliant.

Ankara as a space for dialogue between enemies

Among the "friends of Putin" who could play a role in opening a diplomatic channel between Kyiv and Moscow, Türkiye occupies a unique position. President Erdogan has maintained relations with both sides since the start of the conflict in 2022, facilitating prisoner exchanges and the Ukrainian grain export agreement — before Russia abandoned the latter. The hosting of the NATO summit in Ankara on July 7-8, 2026 is paradoxically proof of Turkish diplomatic credibility: Rutte and the allies chose to hold the founding event of NATO 3.0 in the capital of a country that maintains its ties with Moscow. It signals that Türkiye remains in the Alliance while playing its own diplomatic game.

The United Arab Emirates and Saudi Arabia have also played facilitating roles in previous prisoner exchanges and maintained contacts with both sides. China, which shares a border with Russia and whose economy remains tied to both warring continents, has repeatedly offered its good offices. Zelensky decided to test these channels with his official proposals transmitted to "Putin's friends" on June 26, 2026 — an approach that acknowledges the path to Moscow may run through intermediaries who do not necessarily share Ukraine's democratic values.

Diplomatic pragmatism versus absolute principles

Zelensky's approach — contacting Putin's friends to establish a communication pathway — illustrates a diplomatic pragmatism that is subject to debate. Voices in the Ukrainian opposition and among some Western allies question it: engaging the dictator's allies is legitimizing them. But Zelensky has chosen effectiveness over symbolic purity. As he himself puts it, his objective is not to give democracy lessons to intermediaries — it is to bring his prisoners home, protect his territory, and if possible, end the war on terms acceptable to Ukraine.

This pragmatic approach has illustrious historical precedents. Nixon going to Maoist China in 1972, Sadat traveling to Jerusalem in 1977, Mandela negotiating with the apartheid regime — all these approaches seemed improbable or scandalous to contemporaries and yet produced historic results. Zelensky's diplomacy through Putin's friends may not reach those heights — but it reflects a strategic maturity few had anticipated from a former actor who became a wartime president.

Zelensky's pragmatism impresses me. He doesn't have the luxury of pure idealism — he has the responsibility of 40 million Ukrainians. Going through Putin's friends to send him a message means using the enemy's network against him. That is shrewd, courageous, and the mark of a leader who has understood that in diplomacy, means matter less than outcomes.

Putin clings to Istanbul; Zelensky has moved past it

Vladimir Putin declared on June 23, 2026 that he only envisioned negotiations on the basis of the Istanbul 2022 framework — the preliminary agreement draft whose talks were broken off in April 2022, shortly after revelations about the atrocities at Bucha. That framework envisaged, according to available information, Ukrainian neutrality with international security guarantees, without a full Russian withdrawal from occupied territories. For Putin, invoking it in 2026 is a strategic opening position: he is trying to give the impression that Russia has conceded nothing since 2022, even as the military and economic situation of Russia has significantly deteriorated.

Zelensky, for his part, has clearly signaled that Istanbul 2022 is dead. Not only because conditions have changed, but because the Istanbul framework was formulated before the international community had taken the full measure of Russian atrocities, before the documented deportation of thousands of Ukrainian children, and before NATO had transformed its commitment into massive military support. Using Istanbul 2022 as a basis in 2026 is asking Ukraine to negotiate as if four additional years of war had not occurred. That is an unacceptable position for Kyiv — and its Western allies support it on this point.

The minimum conditions of a credible agreement

For a peace agreement to be credible and lasting, it will necessarily have to go well beyond Istanbul 2022. Zelensky has formulated his minimum conditions: ceasefire along current contact lines (no territorial cession under duress), institutional security guarantees (not mere non-binding promises like Budapest 1994), return of all prisoners and deported children, and international verification mechanisms. These conditions are not maximum demands — they are the floor below which any agreement would only be a capitulation rebranded as peace.

Russia, for its part, has maintained its intransigent position: recognition of occupied territories, Ukrainian neutrality, reduction of Ukraine's armed forces. These positions are not only unacceptable to Kyiv, but also to its Western allies who have guaranteed support for Ukrainian territorial integrity. The gap between the two positions remains wide — which explains why the peace window remains theoretical for now. But the economic pressures on Russia, Ukraine's 40-day strike campaign, and diplomacy through Putin's friends all aim to close that gap by the winter of 2026.

Istanbul 2022 is dead. Putin knows it, Zelensky knows it, and every serious observer knows it. What Putin is doing by referencing this outdated framework is testing the limits of Western credulity — seeing whether someone will actually propose to him in 2026 the conditions he was demanding in 2022 while occupying Kyiv. Nobody should take that bait.

Beijing as a hesitant mediator

China may be the only country that holds real and simultaneous influence over both parties. It is Russia's main trading partner since Western sanctions, financing Russian imports of substitute components, and providing diplomatic support without which the Putin regime would be even more internationally isolated. At the same time, it maintains significant economic relations with Ukraine (before 2022, China was its top trading partner) and with Europe, whose markets remain essential for Chinese exports. This unique position makes Beijing a potential leading mediator.

But China hesitates to engage fully in a mediation role for a simple reason: any agreement perceived as a defeat for Russia would weaken a strategic ally that Beijing considers useful as a counterweight to American power. China does not want a crushed or destabilized Russia — it wants a Russia weakened but solid enough to continue absorbing Western pressure. This cynical calculus explains why Chinese peace initiatives have remained superficial, vague, and devoid of the verification mechanisms that would make them credible. Beijing wants to appear as a peace mediator without bearing the political costs of real mediation.

The Indo-Pacific equation in the Ukrainian file

China is also watching the Ukrainian file's evolution with its eyes fixed on Taiwan. If Russia fails to achieve its objectives in Ukraine — if the resistance of a smaller country against a great power holds thanks to Western support — that sends a strategic message that Beijing cannot ignore regarding the credibility of American support for Taiwan. Conversely, if a peace agreement allowed Russia to retain significant territorial gains, the precedent would be troubling for the world order. China is playing its own game in this crisis — and its interests do not necessarily coincide with a quick resolution of the conflict.

For Zelensky, targeting "Putin's friends" means finding intermediaries whose interests converge sufficiently with an agreement that they are willing to exert real pressure on Moscow. China, given its ambitions regarding Taiwan and its dependence on a stable Russia, may not be the best candidate. The Gulf countries — with economic interests in regional stability and few expansionist geopolitical ambitions — could prove more genuinely useful intermediaries. It is in this network that Zelensky is looking for his diplomatic leverage.

China as mediator — it is the seductive idea that runs up against the reality of Beijing's interests. Xi Jinping is not going to sacrifice his strategic relationship with Putin to play diplomatic Good Samaritan. He can facilitate cosmetic gestures. Real mediation, which would involve pressuring Moscow? I don't believe it. Neither do the Ukrainians.

Zelensky has done his part

The Ukrainian president has done what can be done: offer sincere dialogue while maintaining credible military pressure. His open letter to Putin, his proposals to the dictator's friends, his 40-day influence operation — all of this paints a coherent picture of a leader who genuinely wants peace while refusing to beg for it. This combination is the only diplomatically viable strategy: you do not negotiate from weakness with someone like Putin — you negotiate from strength, or not at all.

The message is clear and has been heard by the right ears. Putin's friends now know that Kyiv is ready to talk. That the cost of continuing the war increases every day. That the peace window closes with winter. It is up to them to convey this message to Moscow with the force necessary to be heard. History does not forgive those who ignore sincere diplomatic openings.

Putin's turn to respond

The ball is in Putin's court. Not metaphorically — concretely. He has received an open letter, proposals through his friends, signals through diplomatic channels. He has a choice between two paths: the first leads to a meeting, to a difficult but possible negotiation process, to a peace that leaves Russia standing and Putin politically alive — if not morally. The second leads to 40 more days of Ukrainian strikes on Russian infrastructure, accelerated economic degradation, one more winter of war for his soldiers and citizens.

This choice is not as simple for Putin as it might appear — authoritarian regimes have their own internal logics that make public reversals difficult. But it is not impossible either. History has known autocrats who knew how to recognize when a war was costing more than it was earning. The question is whether Vladimir Putin still has that capacity for rational calculation — or whether imperial ideology has definitively replaced pragmatism in his strategic decisions.

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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This text keeps the basic distinction between verified facts and interpretive analysis. The rule never changes: a factual claim is published only when a verifiable source supports it, and the sources this article actually used are listed under Sources, never here.

Primary source families used by the publication, when the story has them: official statements from governments and international institutions, public statements by political leaders, reports from intergovernmental organisations, dispatches from recognised international news agencies.

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Nature of the analysis

The analyses, interpretations and perspectives in the analytical sections of this article are a critical, contextual synthesis based on the information available, the trends observed and the expert comments cited in the sources consulted.

My role is to interpret these facts, to set them in the context of today's geopolitical and economic dynamics, and to give them a coherent meaning within the larger story of the changes shaping our time. These analyses reflect expertise built through continuous observation of international affairs and an understanding of the strategic mechanisms that drive global actors.

This article describes a documented state of affairs on its publication date, not a prediction: later developments may shift its outlook. No update is promised in advance; when an article is corrected or completed, the change is dated in the text.

The first step toward peace — whose is it to take? The honest answer is that this first step must come from Putin. Zelensky has reached out, contacted the dictator's friends, proposed meetings. The ball is in Russia's court. And if Putin refuses to play, the responsibility for the continued war — and all its consequences — rests entirely with him. History will judge.