DECODING: Lavrov Says No — Why Moscow Sabotages Every Peace Attempt

The word "no" as a state strategy

Since Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, Sergei Lavrov has mastered a particular art: the elaborate diplomatic refusal. Not a simple "no" — that would be too honest. A "no" wrapped in declarations of goodwill, invocations of imaginary negotiations, accusations against the adversary, and demands so maximalist they guarantee the failure of any dialogue attempt. On June 24, 2026, at the "Primakov Readings" forum in Moscow, Lavrov delivered another demonstration of this talent: "We will not agree to temporary or interim solutions, let alone ultimatums dictated by someone else," he declared, refusing any ceasefire on the current front line as a precondition to negotiations.

This was not a surprise. Nor an improvisation. It was the latest iteration of a position repeated for two years, reformulated according to context but fundamentally identical in its essence: Russia will negotiate only on its own terms, which amount to the total capitulation of Ukraine. This decoding aims to understand the mechanics of Russian refusal — not to excuse it, but to allow the West to stop being trapped by its own hopes for diplomacy.

The chronology of refusals: from Istanbul 2022 to Primakov 2026

To understand Lavrov's refusal in June 2026, one must trace the chronology of missed — or rather sabotaged — opportunities. In March-April 2022, talks in Istanbul seemed to open a path toward a preliminary agreement. Both sides had discussed Ukrainian neutrality in exchange for security guarantees. Russia still regularly invokes these negotiations as proof of its good faith — but omits to mention that it continued its bombardments during the talks and rejected the framework as soon as Ukraine refused major territorial concessions. The Russian narrative of "the West torpedoed Istanbul" is a constructed narrative, not a documented fact.

Allow me to be direct on this point: the Russian narrative construction around "Istanbul" is a lie repeated at such high frequency that it ends up seeming established. Lavrov invokes "Istanbul 2022" as if it were an agreement Ukraine had walked back. That is not what happened. The preliminary Istanbul discussions never produced a signed agreement. And Putin continued bombing Ukrainian civilians during those very negotiations. No serious analyst would sign an agreement with a country that is simultaneously bombing you at the negotiating table.

Demand 1: No ceasefire on the current front line

The position expressed at the Primakov forum on June 24, 2026 is clear: "Russia will not stop at the front line as a condition for launching negotiations on Ukraine." Let's understand what this means concretely. Ukraine, its European allies, and even — at certain moments — the Trump administration proposed a ceasefire on the current front line as a first step toward negotiations. That means: stop the fighting where it stands, without prejudging the final outcome. It is the minimal position of any functional diplomacy.

Moscow refuses. Why? Because the current front line does not favor Russia in the configuration Putin had imagined in 2022. Freezing the conflict on the current line means accepting that Ukraine still controls large parts of the oblasts of Luhansk, Donetsk, Zaporizhzhia and Kherson that Russia formally "annexed" in September 2022. It also implicitly acknowledges the failure of Putin's initial objective: the rapid capture of Kyiv and the liquidation of the Ukrainian state. Accepting a ceasefire means accepting partial defeat.

Demand 2: Return to 2022 conditions

Moscow's maximum position, reiterated by Putin himself on June 23, 2026, is that any negotiation can only resume "on the basis of the Istanbul Protocols of 2022, Putin's speech of June 2024 at the Russian Foreign Ministry, and the so-called Anchorage agreements of August 2025." These three references are disguised demands for total capitulation. The "Istanbul Protocols" as Russia describes them include Ukraine's withdrawal from all the territories of the four oblasts — including those it still controls. Putin's June 2024 speech demanded the same, plus Ukraine's formal renunciation of its NATO aspirations. The "Anchorage agreements" — the alleged results of the US-Russia summit in August 2025 — are invoked by Moscow without any public document attesting to their content. Washington itself has never published a communiqué confirming anything.

The "Anchorage agreements" may be the most blatant case of Russian narrative manipulation in recent months. Lavrov invokes them as if they were a signed and codified agreement. In reality, there is no public document, no joint declaration, no American confirmation of any agreement whatsoever. The Kremlin deliberately exploits the absence of transparency to invent a diplomatic reality favorable to its positions. And Washington — under Trump — has the unfortunate habit of not publicly contradicting these claims, leaving a gray zone that Moscow fills with its own narratives.

Lavrov and the systematic exclusion of Brussels

A constant element of Russia's position since the start of the conflict is its refusal to recognize Europe as a legitimate actor in peace negotiations. Lavrov, in his essay of June 19, 2026 titled "Ukraine, Europe and Global Security" (drafted for Politico Europe but which the publication refused — a gesture Lavrov denounced as an attack on press freedom), asserts that Europe cannot serve as "third-party observer" or mediator due to its "continuing support for Ukraine." He portrays European leaders as using the premise of negotiations to conceal "geopolitical expansion" and preparations for a supposed future attack on Russia.

This argumentation serves several functions. First, it attempts to isolate Ukraine from its supporters by creating a rift between Kyiv and Brussels. Second, it positions the United States and Russia as the only truly relevant actors — a framing that serves the Kremlin's interests by marginalizing the European democracies most invested in Ukraine's defense. Finally, it offers Trump the argument that only direct USA-Russia diplomacy can advance — which enhances his "peacemaker" image while excluding the Europeans who refuse to grant him roles in negotiations.

The assault on the London Declaration of June 7, 2026

On June 7, 2026, the leaders of the United Kingdom, France and Germany — Starmer, Macron and Merz — had published with Zelensky a joint declaration setting five conditions for a just peace: immediate ceasefire, resumption of negotiations based on the current front line, legally binding security guarantees including the deployment of a multinational force in Ukraine, maintenance of the freeze on Russian assets until reparations are paid, and respect for NATO and EU interests in any agreement. The Kremlin's response was immediate and total: "unacceptable," "ultimatum," "conditions cannot be a starting point." Lavrov qualified the declaration as "ultimatums."

I read the London Declaration of June 7, 2026 carefully. It is not an ultimatum — it is a minimal negotiating framework. A ceasefire on the current line is not an advantageous "condition" for Ukraine: it acknowledges the battlefield reality where Russia controls a significant portion of Ukrainian territory. Proposing this as a starting point means beginning from the world as it is. Calling it an "ultimatum" signals that Moscow refuses even to discuss on the basis of the world as it exists — only on the basis of the world as Putin would wish it to be.

The Russian double-speak on willingness to negotiate

The apparent paradox of the Russian position: Lavrov constantly says that Russia is "ready to negotiate" while systematically rejecting all proposed negotiating bases. This double-speak is not a contradiction — it is a calculated strategy. By presenting itself as "ready to negotiate," Moscow can accuse Ukraine and the West of "refusing peace" in international forums. This allows neutral governments — in India, Brazil, Turkey — to maintain a false equivalence between the parties ("both sides refuse to negotiate").

But "ready to negotiate" means, for Lavrov, negotiating on the basis of maximum Russian demands. The demand for Ukraine's withdrawal from all "annexed" oblasts, the renunciation of NATO aspirations, the "denazification" of Ukraine (a code for regime change) — none of this is a negotiating position. It is a list of capitulations required before even sitting at the table. When Lavrov says "we will not take anyone's word for it," he means: "We will not trust any agreement Ukraine can produce, because our final objective is its complete submission."

The myth of Ukrainian "neutrality" as a peace objective

Russia regularly presents Ukraine's "neutrality" — its withdrawal from NATO aspirations — as a modest and reasonable demand. Lavrov invokes the Ukrainian Declaration of Sovereignty of 1990, which provided for a non-aligned status, claiming it is the status "in which Russia and all other countries recognized the Ukrainian state." This is historical manipulation: Ukraine explicitly revised its constitution to inscribe its NATO aspiration in 2019, and its decision to join or not join the alliance is sovereign. Moreover, the real question is not formal neutrality — it is real security. Kyiv learned, after the Budapest Memorandum of 1994 (where it surrendered its nuclear weapons in exchange for "guarantees" that Russia violated in 2014 and 2022), that promises without solid enforcement mechanisms are worthless.

Here is the fundamental question that Western negotiators never pose clearly enough to Moscow: if Ukraine were "neutral," what mechanism would guarantee that Russia does not invade again in ten years? Lavrov's answer would probably be "Russia's word." But after 2014 and 2022, that word is worth absolutely nothing. Real security for Ukraine requires binding guarantees with real enforcement means — and that is precisely what Moscow refuses to discuss.

"Everything depends on the actions of our heroes at the front"

Lavrov's most revealing sentence, delivered on June 8, 2026 at a press conference: "I don't know how one can talk about negotiations in this context. For now, everything depends not on negotiations, but on the actions of our heroes at the front." This declaration expresses Russia's strategy clearly: Russia is not seeking to negotiate because it still hopes for military success. As long as the battlefield offers prospects for advance — even slow, even costly — Putin prefers to keep fighting rather than sit at a negotiating table from a position of relative weakness.

This logic has an important corollary: Russia would genuinely sit at a table if it lost sufficiently on the battlefield for its military options to be exhausted. That is why Western support for Ukraine — in weapons, financing, intelligence — is not an obstacle to peace, as Moscow claims, but the precondition for peace. The stronger Ukraine is militarily, the more the cost-benefit calculation of the war deteriorates for Moscow, and the more likely Russia is to accept genuine negotiations.

The attrition strategy and the time factor

The Kremlin is playing for time. Its strategy is to convince Western societies — particularly American — that supporting Ukraine is endless and costly, and to hope that public opinion eventually demands a "deal" on Russian terms. That is why the narrative of "Putin ready to negotiate" is so important to Moscow: it allows pro-ceasefire voices in the West to present a partial Ukrainian capitulation as "reasonable peace." Lavrov's regular provocations — threatening new massive strikes on Kyiv, reaffirming that all foreign ambassadors should leave the Ukrainian capital — are part of this intimidation strategy designed to break Ukrainian resilience and Western patience.

I will say something difficult: there is, in certain Western circles — including sometimes within the Trump administration — a temptation to "make peace" quickly by imposing territorial concessions on Ukraine. That temptation is emotionally understandable. It is strategically catastrophic. A peace that rewards territorial aggression guarantees the next aggression. Putin's Russia would not stop at Ukraine — it would simply wait to rearm before the next offensive.

A diplomatic opening sabotaged by Moscow

On June 4, 2026, Volodymyr Zelensky made a rare act of public diplomacy: an open letter addressed to Vladimir Putin, proposing a direct face-to-face meeting in a third country (Switzerland or Turkey), an immediate ceasefire and the involvement of the United States as guarantors. It is a courageous act by a leader whose country has been under attack for more than four years. Putin's response, expressed at the St. Petersburg International Economic Forum: "He sees no point in such a meeting at this time." Lavrov, even more brutal, described the letter as "absurdities" and compared it to Macron's declarations of his willingness to meet Putin — "talking for the sake of talking."

Russia's reaction to Zelensky's letter is symptomatic. Putin did not clearly say "no" — he said he "saw no point" in a meeting, adding an indirect condition: such a meeting could only occur after low-level negotiators had prepared the ground and agreed on essentials. But Moscow refuses to name negotiators. Putin therefore refuses to meet Zelensky directly while simultaneously refusing to prepare the ground that would allow such a meeting. It is a closed loop, a deliberately constructed diplomatic dead end.

The instrumentalization of Trump's mediation

In this context, Lavrov was quick to valorize Trump's role as mediator — not because Moscow sincerely believes in American mediation, but because it sees an opportunity there. Trump wants a "deal" quickly, preferably before the midterm elections. Moscow can offer him the appearance of a concession (for example, a fighting freeze on positions favorable to Russia) in exchange for American pressure on Ukraine to accept unfavorable terms. Lavrov repeats that Russia is "committed to Trump's proposals" on peace — while carefully avoiding specifying what those proposals actually contain. This ambiguity is a diplomatic resource for Moscow.

Zelensky had the courage to write to Putin despite four years of bombardments, despite massive destruction of Ukrainian infrastructure, despite everything. It is a courageous political act that deserves our respect. And Putin's contemptuous silence — followed by Lavrov's arrogance — tells everything there is to know about the Kremlin's real intentions. Russia never wanted to negotiate. It always wanted to win. And "winning" for it means Ukraine on its knees.

What Moscow actually wants

Let's analyze what Putin and Lavrov are actually demanding in their official positions. First: the withdrawal of Ukrainian forces from the oblasts of Luhansk, Donetsk, Zaporizhzhia and Kherson in their entirety — including the parts Ukraine still controls. Second: the formal renunciation of Ukraine's NATO aspirations, enshrined in the constitution. Third: a drastic reduction of the Ukrainian army to levels defined by Moscow. Fourth: "guarantees" of protection of Russian speakers' rights in Ukraine — which amounts to allowing Russia to intervene in Ukraine at any time in the name of a linguistic minority. Fifth: a neutrality status guaranteed by countries that Moscow approves — thereby excluding Western guarantors who would have real means to enforce it.

These demands are not negotiating positions from which concessions are made. They are demands for total capitulation. No democratically elected Ukrainian government, no Ukrainian leader wishing to survive politically, can accept them. That is why Kyiv rejects them. And that is precisely why Moscow maintains them: because their rejection allows Russia to justify continuing the war.

The "denazification" lie: an operational falsehood

The term "denazification," which Putin used to justify the invasion in 2022, deserves particular attention. Volodymyr Zelensky is Jewish. His grandfather served in the Soviet army during the Second World War. Ukraine has issues with extreme nationalist groups, as do all European countries, but they are minority and marginal in national political life. Russia's claim of a "Nazi Ukraine" is a fundamental manipulation of historical reality, used to justify military aggression against a democratically elected government. Lavrov and the Kremlin deliberately maintain this narrative fiction for domestic Russian use and for audiences in the Global South unfamiliar with Ukrainian politics.

"Denazification" as a justification for invading a country whose president is Jewish is such an absurdity that it would be comical if it were not the pretext for the deaths of tens of thousands of people. This term is not an argument — it is a propaganda vector. And when Lavrov still cites it in 2026, after four years of war, after exhaustive evidence of atrocities committed by the Russian army, he chooses strategic lies over diplomatic truth. This choice says everything.

E3 plus Ukraine: a united but powerless front?

The joint declaration of June 7, 2026 signed by the United Kingdom, France, Germany and Ukraine in London represents the most coherent and comprehensive position ever formulated by Europeans on what a just peace should contain. The five conditions — immediate ceasefire, front line as basis for negotiations, binding security guarantees, maintenance of the freeze on Russian assets, respect for NATO/EU interests — constitute a realistic, balanced, and publicly defensible framework.

But this declaration has a structural weakness: it has no enforcement mechanism. Europe can set conditions — it cannot force Moscow to accept them. This is not a flaw in the declaration itself; it is the reality of power: without the participation of the United States as a credible guarantor, European security guarantees do not carry the same deterrent value. That is why Trump's position — oscillating between mediation, pressure on Ukraine, and indifference — is so crucial. And so dangerous.

Trump: mediator or facilitator of Russian refusal?

The role of Donald Trump in this picture deserves examination with cold clarity. The Trump administration has sent contradictory signals since its return to power. On one hand, envoys Witkoff and Kushner have met Russian officials and appear to want a deal. On the other, Trump has sometimes implied that Ukraine should "give land" to have peace — a position dangerously close to Russian demands. Lavrov exploits this ambiguity by claiming Russia is "committed to American proposals" — proposals whose exact content is never made public.

Here is my reading of Trump's position in this file: the American president wants a deal he can present as a diplomatic victory, quickly, preferably before the midterm elections. This makes him vulnerable to Russian manipulation, which offers him a "peace" that is actually a Ukrainian capitulation. If Trump yields to this logic, he will be the American president who betrayed the most courageous democratic ally the West has had in decades. I hope his entourage understands this — and I am not certain they all do.

Bombing while "negotiating"

A fundamental fact that any analysis of "Russian refusal" must integrate: Russia continues to bomb Ukrainian cities, civilian infrastructure, power networks, hospitals — throughout the entire period during which it claims to be "ready to negotiate." In June 2026, Ukraine launched the largest drone offensive against Moscow since the start of the full-scale war, on June 18, injuring 17 people and damaging a refinery already struck two days earlier. In response, Putin and Peskov announced that Russia would continue its regular strikes against Ukraine. Lavrov confirmed that the previously issued warning for foreign embassies to leave Kyiv remained valid.

These actions are political language, not only military. They send the following message: we can destroy more of Ukraine's civilian infrastructure at any time. The cost of your resistance is undefined and potentially unlimited. The psychological pressure to "do something" — accept unacceptable conditions to stop the suffering — is permanent and deliberate. It is the strategy of terror as negotiation.

The Zaporizhzhia nuclear plant issue

The case of the Zaporizhzhia nuclear power plant illustrates the complexity of the terrain. The IAEA negotiated in June 2026 a local ceasefire around the plant to allow repairs to a damaged power line. This localized ceasefire (valid until approximately June 23) showed that punctual agreements are technically possible when they serve both parties' interests. But this does not prefigure a global ceasefire — and Russia itself continued its bombardments of other parts of Ukrainian territory during this period of local truce.

The Zaporizhzhia nuclear plant occupied by Russian forces is a nuclear hostage-taking. It is simple and brutal. When Russia agrees to a local ceasefire around this plant, that is not diplomatic goodwill — it is avoiding a nuclear catastrophe that would also affect itself. The bar for "cooperation" in this conflict is pathetically low: not provoking a nuclear catastrophe is presented as a good-faith act. We live in a world where Putin has succeeded in redefining diplomatic norms downward to that extent.

Reason 1: Peace exposes the failure of the invasion

Russia cannot negotiate a peace based on battlefield reality for a fundamental reason: any peace that does not include the war objectives proclaimed in 2022 would be an admission of failure. Putin promised his people the "denazification" of Ukraine, the capture of Kyiv, the neutralization of the NATO threat. Four years later, Ukraine holds, Kyiv has not fallen, NATO admitted Sweden and Finland in response to the invasion. A peace on the current front line would be, in terms of Russian domestic propaganda, a defeat — and Putin cannot survive politically by admitting it.

The continuation of the war allows the Kremlin to mobilize the Russian population in a siege logic, to maintain a permanent state of war that justifies political and economic repression, and to still hope for a change of fortune on the battlefield. Even if Russian territorial advances are slow and costly, they allow feeding the narrative of progress toward victory.

Reason 2: The war serves the interests of Russia's military-industrial complex

The war in Ukraine is not only a catastrophe for Ukraine — it also has its beneficiaries in Russia. The Russian military-industrial complex, the governors of arms-producing regions, the security service elites who have central roles in conducting the war — all these actors have concrete interests in the continuation of the conflict. Peace means economic readjustment, contract reduction, loss of political importance. These interests create internal pressure on Putin not to stop — even if the war is economically costly for Russia at the macro level.

One contextual element that seems undervalued to me: Russia has fuel supply difficulties. Russian military bloggers and internal reports signaled fuel shortages in some regions in June 2026. If true, this suggests Russia's war economy is beginning to show signs of stress. This is not decisive — Putin has proven he can sustain a war economy under sanctions for years. But it is a signal that the Western economic attrition strategy is producing effects, even slowly.

What this decoding implies for Brussels, Washington and Kyiv

If Russian refusal is systemic and not situational — if Moscow deliberately sabotages every peace initiative because the war serves its objectives — then Western strategy must be designed accordingly. First: stop presenting every negotiation offer as if it had a serious chance of being accepted by Moscow. This creates false expectations and disappointments that undermine public determination. Second: continue and amplify military, economic and humanitarian support for Ukraine, because this is the sine qua non for Russia to ever be ready for genuine negotiations.

Third, and this is crucial: maintain a clear diplomatic framework for the day when Russia is ready to negotiate — not from goodwill, but from necessity. The London Declaration of June 7 constitutes this framework. It must not be abandoned in the face of repeated refusals. On the contrary, it must be reinforced, promoted, endorsed by the greatest possible number of countries, including those of the Global South that have sometimes adopted ambiguous positions.

The military option as a condition of diplomacy

The main lesson of decoding the Russian position is counterintuitive but fundamental: diplomacy with Moscow can only function if Ukraine is militarily strong. A Zelensky in a weak position has no leverage to negotiate — he can only capitulate. A Zelensky who resists effectively, supported by Western weapons, who strikes Russian refineries with drones, who maintains control of strategic regions — this Zelensky can one day sit at a negotiating table from a position that allows a just and lasting agreement. Military support for Ukraine is not an obstacle to peace. It is the path toward a peace that is not a capitulation.

I know this conclusion runs counter to the humanitarian instinct that says "stop the fighting now, people are dying." I share that instinct. But a ceasefire on the terms Moscow is currently willing to accept will not save lives in the long term — it will sacrifice more during the next aggression. The pain of continuing is real and immediate. The pain of an unjust peace is deferred and perhaps even greater. I have no perfect solution. I doubt anyone does. But capitulating is not the solution.

What independent military analysts say

The Institute for the Study of War (ISW) documented in its June 2026 reports the consistency of Russia's position. In its assessment of June 23, the ISW noted that "Putin and senior Kremlin officials reiterate Russia's commitment to its initial war objectives of complete Ukrainian capitulation as Ukraine, the US and Europe appear ready to restart negotiations." The ISW notes that Putin explained that Russia would only negotiate on the basis of the "Istanbul Protocols of 2022, the June 2024 Foreign Ministry speech, and the alleged Anchorage agreements" — all formulations equivalent to Ukrainian capitulation.

The ISW also notes that Lavrov's statements at the Primakov forum on June 24 refusing a ceasefire on the current front line "demonstrate the Kremlin's continued disinterest in peace proposals that do not accept its demands for Ukrainian capitulation." These independent analyses converge with my own reading of the available documentation: Russian refusal is structural, not tactical.

The nuclear threat as a blackmail tool

One must also note Putin's recurring nuclear threats. In June 2026, he suggested that Oreshnik nuclear missiles had not yet been used "for their true purposes" in Ukraine — an insinuation that Russia has only launched them as a test so far. These nuclear provocations are designed to deter the West from escalating its support for Ukraine and to exert psychological pressure on governments hesitant to supply long-range weapons. They are an integral part of the refusal strategy — signaling that the cost of prolonged resistance could be catastrophic.

Putin's nuclear threat deserves a firm but calibrated response. The West cannot ignore this threat — the consequences of miscalculation would be catastrophic. But it cannot allow itself to be paralyzed by it either. Putin has been waving this threat since the 2022 invasion — and every time the West supplied new weapons (first long-range missiles, then tanks, then F-16s), the announced catastrophe did not materialize. This consistency suggests the nuclear threat is a psychological coercion tool more than a real intention. But one can never have absolute certainty — and that is precisely why Putin continues to use it.

Wearing down the adversary without defeating it on the battlefield

Lavrov's systemic refusal fits within a broader military and diplomatic doctrine: the exhaustion strategy. Moscow does not need to achieve a decisive battlefield victory — it only needs to outlast the Western political will to support Ukraine. This strategy rests on several bets: that elections in Europe will bring more conciliatory governments, that American public opinion fatigue will eventually reduce arms deliveries, that economic difficulties linked to inflation and energy costs will weaken the coalition supporting Kyiv. These bets are not irrational — they rest on a lucid reading of democratic political dynamics.

That is why refusing to negotiate sincerely is not a sign of weakness or gratuitous arrogance on the part of the Kremlin — it is a rational strategy within its doctrine. Putin believes he can win through attrition what he cannot win through conquest. And he has, until now, been partially right: the Western coalition has fragmented on some issues, arms deliveries have experienced delays, and several European governments have sent contradictory signals about their appetite for a long solution.

How to counter the exhaustion strategy

The response to Russia's exhaustion strategy is counterintuitive: it does not consist of seeking a rapid resolution of the conflict (which would be playing Moscow's game), but of demonstrating that the coalition supporting Ukraine can last indefinitely. This requires multi-year funding commitments, industrialization of European arms production, and consistent political communication with public opinion. Ukraine does not need the West to achieve a rapid victory — it needs the West to stay in the race long enough for Putin's calculation to prove wrong.

The NATO summit planned for autumn 2026 will be a crucial test of this collective resilience. If allies confirm multi-year quantified commitments for Ukraine — in weapons, financing, diplomatic support — the message sent to Moscow will be unambiguous: the exhaustion strategy will not work. If, conversely, the summit produces hollow formulas and vague commitments, Putin will have good reason to think that his patience will be rewarded.

I understand the fatigue. I understand that Ukraine is far away for many people in Western Europe, that domestic priorities are real, that the economic costs of support are tangible. But here is what I understand even better: Russia's strategy rests precisely on our fatigue. Every time we allow ourselves to wonder "how much longer," we give Putin exactly what he wants. Resistance is not comfortable. It is not supposed to be.

Scenario A — De facto freeze: neither peace nor war

The most probable short-term scenario is neither a decisive victory nor a total defeat of one of the two sides — it is a de facto freeze of the front lines, similar to what occurred in Korea in 1953. In this scenario, fighting continues at low intensity along a relatively stabilized contact line, while informal negotiations unfold behind the scenes without ever producing a formalized agreement. This is not peace. This is not Ukrainian victory. But it is the status quo that Moscow would prefer to officially deny while tacitly accepting, as it would consolidate its territorial gains without requiring explicit diplomatic concessions.

For Ukraine, this scenario would be a partial defeat — though the West will endeavor to present it as a diplomatic success. Zelensky has repeatedly stated that a de facto freeze without solid security guarantees and without a prospect of recovering occupied territories is unacceptable to Kyiv. But he also knows that his capacity to influence this outcome depends largely on his allies' willingness to maintain sufficient support for him to continue exerting military pressure.

Scenario B — Calculated escalation and its risks

At the opposite end of the spectrum, a controlled escalation scenario remains possible if Ukraine manages to conduct significant offensive operations in the coming months, or if Russia crosses new red lines — such as the use of chemical weapons or direct strikes on NATO territory. In that case, pressure on Western allies to respond with more aggressive measures — delivery of additional combat aircraft, authorization of deeper strikes into Russian territory, or even direct intervention by European special forces — would become politically difficult to resist.

This scenario is the riskiest, but not necessarily the least probable over a 12 to 18-month horizon. Russia, aware that time may not be entirely on its side if the West maintains its support, might choose to deliberately test the limits of the Atlantic response. Managing this potential escalation will require crisis diplomacy of the highest quality — precisely the kind of diplomacy that internal Western disputes make more difficult.

In all this decoding of strategies and scenarios, I must remind myself — and you — that men and women die every day in Ukraine while we analyze geopolitical hypotheses from the comfort of our offices. These scenarios are not academic exercises — they define who will survive and who will not. I do not have the right to forget that. Nor do you.

What this decoding truly tells us

Lavrov's "no" is not the position of a diplomat seeking a way out. It is the position of a regime that has staked its political future on military victory and cannot afford the alternative. Decoding this refusal means understanding that any diplomacy that does not account for this reality is illusory — and worse, counterproductive, because it creates false hopes that erode the determination to support Ukraine. The mechanics of Russian refusal are consistent, documented, repeated. Pretending otherwise is choosing intellectual comfort over hard reality.

What Zelensky and the West must do now

Zelensky has demonstrated a resilience and diplomatic capacity that commands admiration. Faced with an enemy who refuses everything, he continues to propose solutions, to seek allies, to maintain his population's morale. This is not only courage — it is strategy. The right strategy consists of maintaining Western support, amplifying strikes on Russian economic capabilities, maintaining the diplomatic framework in place for the day when Moscow is ready to truly negotiate. That day will come — not because Putin will have grown wise, but because his military and economic options will be exhausted. The question is whether the West will hold until then.

Lavrov's refusal is not a dead end — it is a declaration of intent. Moscow is telling us clearly: we will not negotiate as long as we believe we can win or as long as you believe you must accept less. The only sensible response to this declaration is to make the cost of that wait prohibitive for Russia. Not with words. With tanks, ammunition and political resolve that does not waver.

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.

Method and sources

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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When an article cites statistical, economic or geopolitical data, it comes from the institutions that produce it (intergovernmental organisations, central banks, national statistics offices), and the exact institution is named under Sources.

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.