REPORT: Europe Urges Trump to Host Zelensky and Putin — the G7 as Ultimate Leverage

The scene: a lake, a summit, a war lasting over four years

On June 15, 2026, the leaders of the G7 met in the spa town of Évian-les-Bains, France, at the invitation of President Emmanuel Macron. Behind the Belle Époque facades and the calm waters of Lake Geneva, the stakes were red-hot: convincing Donald Trump to host a direct meeting between Volodymyr Zelensky and Vladimir Putin on American soil. An idea as ambitious as it was perilous, driven by an Europe that knows it has been marginalized in peace diplomacy for months.

The context was heavy. The Russo-Ukrainian War had been going on for over four years. Peace negotiations sponsored by Washington had been effectively frozen since February 2026, at the moment when American attention shifted toward the Iranian conflict. But the conclusion of a deal with Tehran had just freed Trump — at least symbolically — and Europe wanted to seize this window at high speed.

Zelensky at the heart of the European plan

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky was not simply invited to the G7: he had become one of its central protagonists. Present at Macron’s request, he publicly proposed on June 15 to meet Putin on the sidelines of the summit — with Trump and European leaders by his side. "We have sent a message expressing our willingness to meet Putin during the G7, because Trump and Macron will be there — so it’s the Europeans plus the United States," he told the press.

The Kremlin had signaled it was not ready. Aside from any question of political will, Putin — under an arrest warrant from the International Criminal Court — would have in any case risked arrest on French soil. But Zelensky’s proposal was not naive: it aimed to force Trump’s hand, to demonstrate that Ukraine, now strong on the ground, was ready to negotiate from a position of strength.

I must admit: watching this sequence from the outside is observing something unprecedented. Zelensky, the man whom Trump and Vance had publicly humiliated at the White House in February 2025 by repeatedly telling him he didn’t "hold the cards," finds himself today partially dictating the diplomatic agenda of the most powerful summit in the world. This reversal is not insignificant. It is a lesson in resilience as much as in strategy.

The dynamics of the French presidency

France held the G7 presidency in 2026, and Macron had clearly chosen to make Ukraine one of the markers of this summit — the last he would chair before the end of his term in 2027. Évian-les-Bains, an intimate setting on the shores of Lake Geneva, was also the place where the world could see that Europe refused to bend. The meeting had initially been dominated on June 15 by the announcement of the Trump-Iran deal. But by June 16, Ukraine was back on top.

The G7 brings together the United States, Japan, France, Canada, the United Kingdom, Italy, and Germany. Seven benchmark democracies — and seven different perspectives on how to handle a man like Putin. This summit, according to several diplomatic sources, was the first meeting where all G7 members spoke in unison in favor of Ukraine. Even Trump, cryptic but less hostile than usual, acknowledged that "things have really changed."

The special Ukraine session: one hour late, a powerful image

The working session dedicated to Ukraine, scheduled for June 16, began nearly an hour late. The reason: Zelensky, Trump, and Macron had found themselves in a trilateral meeting behind the scenes, reported by the Kyiv Independent and the Guardian based on three sources familiar with the discussions. It was the first face-to-face meeting between Zelensky and Trump in over four months. The other leaders had waited.

This image — the seven richest powers in the world waiting while a Ukrainian president talks with an American president and a French president — was in itself a political message. Ukraine was no longer the supplicant nation of 2025. It was, according to political analyst Ian Bremmer cited by Le Monde, the one that had "the best argument against Trump, who has only contempt for losers: he is winning."

That hour of waiting in the conference room feels symbolically immense to me. The leaders of the free world waiting while Ukraine negotiates its survival — and perhaps its future. I don’t want to overdo the imagery. But there is something there that looks, for the first time in a long while, like regained dignity.

The coalition of three: coordinated and deliberate pressure

The work of pressuring Trump was primarily carried out by what is known as the E3 — the United Kingdom, Germany, and France. Keir Starmer, Friedrich Merz, and Emmanuel Macron had coordinated their messages to convince Washington that the balance of power on the ground had shifted in favor of Kyiv. They wanted Trump to recognize that the terms envisioned during the Anchorage summit in Alaska in August 2025 — where he had received Putin and outlined a plan demanding Ukrainian territorial concessions — were now obsolete and unacceptable.

German government sources, according to the Irish Times, claimed that Trump had recognized that Russia was in a weaker position than before. This was an important signal. The E3 argued that an immediate ceasefire should be based on the current front line, accompanied by security guarantees including a multinational force. A demand that Moscow rejected — but that Washington no longer seemed ready to brush aside.

The central demand: that Trump host the talks in the United States

At the heart of the European strategy was a specific proposal: that Donald Trump agree to host a direct meeting between Zelensky and Putin on American soil. The idea had been put forward by Zelensky himself and taken up forcefully by his European allies. According to the Irish Times, Trump replied that he would do what he could — without a firm commitment, but without a refusal either. He described the death tolls in the war as "ridiculous" and stated that Moscow "should make a deal."

The central obstacle remained the deep antipathy between the two heads of state — which Trump himself had mentioned publicly to explain the difficulty of finding an agreement. Putin had indicated in the past his readiness to receive Zelensky in Moscow — a proposal the Ukrainian president had categorically rejected. As for a meeting on neutral or American territory, the Kremlin had given no positive response.

The idea of asking Trump to host these talks is, in itself, a form of brutal pragmatism. The Europeans know they don’t have the authority to impose anything on Putin. Only Trump has that leverage — provided he is willing to use it for something other than self-promotion. That’s exactly what Trump is: a necessary evil. We use him because we have nothing better. And sometimes, it works.

The Iranian deal as a catalyst

To understand why the Évian G7 constituted a turning point, one must look back at the American context. Trump had just announced a deal with Iran aimed at ending the conflict and reopening the Strait of Hormuz — the maritime route through which approximately 20% of the world’s oil passes. This deal, presented as a personal triumph, had initially dominated the summit on June 15. But it also freed Trump from a geopolitical obsession, allowing him to turn toward Ukraine.

According to NBC News, Trump stated during the summit that Iran would soon be "in the rearview." He promised to do "everything he can" to help Ukraine. During a behind-the-scenes meeting with Macron the day before, he said, according to a source cited by the Irish Times: "let it end, we're going to focus on that." This shift in attention was what Europe had been waiting for for weeks.

Trump between neutrality and pragmatism

Trump’s position remained ambiguous. According to the Irish Times, he still seemed to consider the United States as neutral in the conflict. He spoke of human losses on both sides in nearly equivalent terms: "Russia has lost a lot of people, just like Ukraine." This false equivalence between the aggressor and its victim remains one of the stumbling blocks with Europeans, who judge it not only inaccurate but dangerous on a moral and strategic level.

Yet, Trump had — according to German government sources — recognized that the balance had changed: Russia was militarily and economically weakened. He had also agreed to participate in a G7 agreement aimed at strengthening sanctions on Russian energy and mentioned the possibility of letting the Russian oil sanction exemptions expire that were due the following Wednesday. These signals, taken together, suggested an inflection.

Watching Trump at this kind of summit is like observing someone negotiating a real estate contract in the middle of an earthquake. He is pragmatic, unpredictable, and sometimes — albeit reluctantly — useful. His recognition that Russia is in a weak position is, objectively, progress. But the moral framing remains false. And this false balance has a real cost for Ukrainians.

A leader who has shifted his position in the balance of power

A little over a year ago, during the Kananaskis G7 in Canada in June 2025, Zelensky had left the summit in uncertainty: Trump had left abruptly without meeting him, leaving the Ukrainian delegation with a bitter taste. This year, the scene was radically different. Zelensky arrived at Évian with unprecedented arguments: deep drone strikes in Russian territory, a more resilient Ukrainian economy, and an army holding its positions despite years of attrition.

According to several sources, Zelensky had convinced Trump — during their phone call on June 14, on the occasion of the American president’s birthday — that the situation in 2026 was "very different" from that of 2025. He confirmed during the summit that Ukrainian drones had set fire to the largest oil refinery in Moscow, about 15 kilometers from the Kremlin and 500 kilometers from Ukrainian territory. "Ukraine's long-range weapons are one of the important components of such pressure," he declared.

The message to the G7: Russia must be forced to peace

Before the G7 leaders, Zelensky was direct: "Russia must be forced to end its war against our people." He insisted that his European allies must be parties to the negotiations — a position that went against past attempts by Trump and his emissaries to keep Europe out of the discussions. He also mentioned reforms on soldier compensation to ensure sustainable recruitment on the front lines.

Zelensky had also shared a precise message on the X network after his meeting with Trump: "The central point is to strengthen Ukraine's air defense and advance diplomatic efforts to compel Russia to end its war." Then, after a meeting with Trump and Secretary of State Marco Rubio, he posted images — a way of publicly documenting that the face-to-face had indeed taken place, after months of floating in US-Ukrainian relations.

I watch Zelensky move through these diplomatic spaces and I see a man who has learned to survive in a world where the rules change according to the mood of the most powerful. He no longer begs. He demonstrates. He shows images of the refinery in flames and says: here is our strength. It’s a form of courage that few world leaders know how to exercise with such precision under pressure.

A year of diplomatic exclusion

Since the Anchorage negotiations in August 2025, where Trump had received Putin one-on-one without involving Europe, Europeans had been largely excluded from the diplomatic process. Yet Germany, France, and the United Kingdom now bore the bulk of military and financial support for Ukraine, after Washington had suspended its bilateral weapons donations. This situation had fueled deep European frustration: how can one fund a war and be excluded from the negotiating table?

The Brussels Signal summarized the situation clearly: "Europe has borne the brunt of military and financial aid to Kyiv since Washington halted its weapons donations, but it has been largely kept away from peace diplomacy." The Évian G7 was the opportunity for Starmer, Merz, and Macron to re-insert Europe into the equation — not as a spectator, but as a legitimate actor in any lasting solution.

The format demanded by the E3: Europe plus the US at the table

The E3 had a precise vision of the desirable negotiation format. According to Macron, cited by the Kyiv Independent: "The right negotiation is one where Ukraine and Russia are at the table, but with the Europeans and the Americans present too." German government sources, cited by the Irish Times, specified that the most realistic format would associate Ukraine and Russia with the United States and Europe — but that the most difficult question remained who would speak for Europe.

Alexander Stubb, the Finnish president, said he did not see himself in the role of a special European representative: "I think this should be led by the major powers, namely France, Germany, and the UK." Diplomats were looking for a heavyweight figure — perhaps a former prime minister — to embody the European position in potential talks. The institutional undertaking was immense. But the political will, for its part, seemed more real than ever.

What strikes me about the European position is this combination of lucidity and stubbornness. The Europeans know they cannot force Putin to negotiate. They know that Trump remains unpredictable. But they refuse to be spectators to a peace negotiated behind their backs. That resistance — diplomatic, patient, tireless — is a form of courage that history will remember, I believe.

Peskov, Dmitriev, and the communication war

While G7 leaders were meeting, the Kremlin multiplied negative signals. Spokesman Dmitry Peskov, asked about an official invitation to Putin, replied with a laconic "of course not." He added that there were no established communication channels to organize such a meeting — while indicating that Putin remained "ready to meet Zelensky in Moscow."

Putin’s special representative, Kirill Dmitriev, had for his part flooded social media with messages disparaging the Europeans throughout the summit. He wrote, according to the Irish Times: "The bellicose 'poison pills' from the EU/UK to derail peace talks are too obvious and delay peace by imposing exhausted and unrealistic solutions. Hypocrisy doesn't work well when it is exposed." This type of aggressive communication was not new — but it confirmed that Moscow saw European involvement as an obstacle, not an opportunity.

The Russian weakness: a secret becoming less well-kept

Behind the Kremlin’s tough rhetoric, the economic and military facts told another story. According to German diplomatic sources cited by the Irish Times, Russia could no longer win on the battlefield and its economy was showing signs of increasing tension. The G7 noted in its final communiqué that the leaders committed to "increase pressure on the Russian war economy" and to strengthen sanctions on the oil and gas sectors.

The European Union was already preparing its 21st sanctions package, including restrictions on the sale of liquefied natural gas tankers to Russia. Canada, for its part, announced on June 16 new sanctions targeting 162 individuals, entities, and vessels linked to the Russian shadow fleet, its energy revenues, and its defense and disinformation sectors. The economic pressure on Moscow was rising, quiet but real.

Putin is playing a complex score: projecting strength while negotiating under the table. But when refineries are burning 15 kilometers from the Kremlin and the Russian economy is cracking under the weight of sanctions and the human cost of the war, even the regime's fiercest propagandists are starting to struggle to maintain the pose. I’m not saying Putin is at his breaking point — but the myth of Russian invincibility has certainly taken a hit.

The Moscow refinery in flames during the G7

The timing was striking. While Zelensky was discussing peace in Évian-les-Bains, Ukrainian drones were attacking the largest oil refinery in Moscow. The facility, located in the Moscow Oblast, had been hit twice in less than a week. Zelensky confirmed the strikes: "Last night, our long-range sanctions again reached the Moscow Oblast — for the second time this week, the Moscow oil refinery was hit," he said.

He also relabeled these strikes as "military sanctions" — a deliberately political phrasing. According to Ukrainska Pravda on June 18, Zelensky explained: "In recent days, all our partners have noted the precision and efficiency of our medium- and long-range strikes. It is time for the war to end, and Russia must take the necessary steps on the diplomatic level." The strikes were no longer just a military tactic — they had become a negotiation argument.

The G7 unanimous in the face of Ukrainian strikes

The reaction of the G7 leaders had been significant. According to Zelensky himself, in a June 21 interview reported by the Kyiv Independent: "During the summit, all G7 members were aware of our operation in the Moscow Oblast, had seen the results, and supported Ukraine's absolutely justified and appropriate responses." It was the first time since the start of the conflict that Trump, alongside the Europeans, openly validated Ukraine's deep-strike strategy.

The final G7 communiqué, published on June 17, moved in this direction: "We welcome Ukraine's resilience and its progress on the battlefield in recent months and emphasize that there is now a new momentum. To support and accelerate this new momentum, we agree to increase the delivery of air defense capabilities." In diplomatic language, this meant one thing: Ukraine is gaining ground, and the West is officially recognizing it.

There is something deeply right in this image: a nation striking the industrial heart of its aggressor while extending a hand for peace. Ukraine is not begging. It is demonstrating. And the world, finally, is starting to look. These strikes are not blind violence — they are the language Putin understands, and Europe seems to have accepted this reality.

Measured words, but a perceptible change in tone

Exiting his meeting with Zelensky and Macron on June 16, Trump told reporters he had had a "very good meeting" with the Ukrainian president. He promised a second meeting later in the day. These innocuous phrasings masked an important diplomatic reality: after months of ostentatious indifference toward Kyiv — and a catastrophic meeting at the White House in February 2025 — Trump was choosing the words of goodwill.

Keir Starmer commented that the G7 leaders collectively felt that "things are changing" and that Ukraine was regaining its momentum. An anonymous senior US official, cited by the Kyiv Independent as early as June 13, had prepared the ground: "Russian gains have more or less stopped." This recognition, coming from Washington, was fundamental. It made the Anchorage position — demanding Ukrainian territorial concessions — difficult to defend politically.

"Russia should make a deal": A phrase that matters

Trump’s most significant phrase at the G7 was short and direct: "Russia should make a deal." According to the Straits Times and NBC News, he added that he would do "everything he can" to help Ukraine. These words — even if they did not constitute a firm commitment — represented a sharp change from the American posture of previous months. Trump had not always been so explicit about who should make concessions.

Analyst Ian Bremmer summarized the dynamic with a punchy formula, reported by Le Monde: Zelensky now had "the best argument against Trump, who has only contempt for losers" — he was winning. This reading matched the Ukrainian strategy: show Trump not a defeated nation soliciting help, but an effective nation that deserves an investment. And Trump, a businessman first and foremost, understood that language.

When Trump says "Russia should make a deal," he isn’t speaking like a president concerned with international law. He is speaking like someone who is tired of the mess. But sometimes, even the least noble motivations can serve a just cause. If Trump pushes Putin toward the negotiating table out of pure impatience or economic calculation, the result could still be the end of the war. I'll take it.

The G7 agrees on Russian energy

One of the concrete results of the Évian summit was an agreement in principle among the seven countries to strengthen sanctions on Russian energy. According to the Irish Times, the leaders had agreed to "strengthen sanctions, including those on the oil and gas sectors." The official communiqué specified that, now that Trump had "made a deal" to reopen the Strait of Hormuz, it was "the right time to proceed with additional measures" against Russia.

The economic context made these sanctions all the more relevant. According to Zelensky himself, in a May 2026 interview cited by the Kyiv Independent, Ukrainian strikes against Russian oil infrastructure had cost Russia $7 billion in oil revenue in 2026. Adding international sanctions to these structural losses constituted a double pressure that the Russian war economy — already stretched — would struggle to absorb sustainably.

Canada and the EU leading the way

Canada had acted as early as June 16 by announcing new sanctions against 162 individuals, entities, and vessels, according to the Kyiv Independent. These measures targeted the Russian shadow fleet, Moscow's energy revenues, its defense sector, and its disinformation operations. Prime Minister Mark Carney explicitly condemned the Russian attack on June 15 against the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra — a thousand-year-old monastery, one of the most sacred religious sites in Eastern Orthodox Christianity.

For its part, the European Union was preparing its 21st sanctions package, according to the Irish Times, with restrictions on liquefied natural gas tankers. The United Kingdom, independently of the G7, had added 20 vessels from the Russian shadow fleet and 10 individuals to its sanctions list on June 17. Australia had joined the movement, targeting 60 vessels — its first sanctions ever imposed against the shadow fleet. The anti-Putin coalition was strengthening, silently but resolutely.

We don’t talk enough about sanctions because they lack the glamour of missile strikes or dramatic declarations. But they hurt. They hurt the Russian economy. They hurt Putin’s ability to fund his war machine. And when Canada, the EU, the UK, and Australia coordinate in the same week, it’s not a coincidence. It’s a strategy.

The Alaska deal: A diplomatic humiliation for Kyiv and Europe

To understand the intensity of the European pressure in Évian, one must look back at the Anchorage summit in Alaska in August 2025. Trump had then received Putin one-on-one and sketched a peace plan that required Ukraine to cede territories — a solution that Kyiv and its European allies deemed not only unjust but dangerous for the continent's security. Europe had been kept out of these discussions. The word "Anchorage" had become a symbol of European exclusion and the potential betrayal of Ukrainian interests.

Diplomatic sources in Moscow, cited by Le Monde, indicated that influential observers had been repeating for six months that "the spirit of Anchorage is dead" and that the Alaska compromises had to be abandoned in favor of continuing military operations. Which, paradoxically, confirmed that even on the Russian side, there was a tacit recognition that those terms no longer held. The military dynamic had changed. Ukraine in June 2026 was no longer the Ukraine of August 2025.

Europeans want to write the sequel differently

According to Le Monde, Kyiv and its European allies wanted to "erase the memory of Anchorage." This was one of the undeclared but central objectives of the Évian summit. The idea was not to deny the past, but to impose a new frame of reference: one where Ukraine negotiates from a position of strength, with European allies fully associated with the process, and where the United States plays the role not of a broker between Moscow and Kyiv, but of guarantors of a fair deal.

Macron’s phrasing in Évian captured this vision: "The right negotiation is one where Ukraine and Russia are at the table, but with the Europeans and the Americans present too." It was no longer Kyiv alone against Moscow, with Washington watching from afar. It was a quadrilateral — or multilateral — format where Europe regained a voice that the crises of 2025 had confiscated.

Anchorage will long remain a moment when the free world almost betrayed itself. Trump, alone with Putin in Alaska, deciding Ukraine's fate without the Ukrainians — it’s an image that haunts me. I understand the need for dialogue with dictators. But there is a way to do it that humiliates victims, and a way that respects them. Évian was an attempt to correct that course. Imperfect, but necessary.

A months-old Ukrainian request, finally heard

Beyond peace diplomacy, the Évian G7 produced a concrete and strategically significant result: a joint declaration that the seven countries were "ready to consider granting Ukraine the benefit of licenses to allow an increase in its military production." According to Zelensky, cited by the Kyiv Independent on June 21, it was "the first time that the American team responded positively to the licenses."

Concretely, this meant that Ukraine could one day produce on its own soil missiles for Patriot systems — the American air defenses that Kyiv has been desperately demanding for months. "Everyone agrees that we currently have all the technical capabilities to start producing missiles for the Patriot systems," Zelensky explained. This step — even if "ready to consider" rather than a firm agreement — represented a major shift in American philosophy.

Trump and the promise to defense industrialists

Zelensky revealed in his June 21 interview that Trump "plans to ask US defense companies to manufacture missiles for air defense systems under licenses in Europe and Ukraine." This move — if it materializes — would profoundly transform the industrial relationship between the United States and Europe in defense matters. It would allow Ukraine to reduce its dependence on direct American deliveries while strengthening its local production capacity.

The context was important: US Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth had announced a few weeks earlier a reduction in funding for military aid to Ukraine in the 2026 defense budget. This decision had worried Ukrainian lawmakers, who spoke of "disastrous consequences" on the ground. Production licenses therefore represented an alternative path — less dependent on annual budget decisions of the US Congress, more structural, and more sustainable.

The idea of producing Patriot missiles on Ukrainian soil is, in my eyes, one of the most important developments of this entire diplomatic sequence. Not because it’s finalized — it isn’t yet. But because it represents a paradigm shift: moving from humanitarian aid to industrial cooperation. It is treating Ukraine no longer as a patient on an IV drip, but as a strategic partner. And that’s a distinction that changes everything.

The dynamic extends beyond Évian

The Évian summit ended on June 17, but the diplomatic sequence did not stop there. In the following days, Zelensky held a post-G7 call with Trump and Macron, of which he said it "could make a big difference.""I am grateful to President Trump for his attention to Ukraine," he stated. These words — measured, deliberately positive — were as much a strategy as a sincerity: stroking the American president’s ego while maintaining the pressure.

In parallel, Zelensky announced he had discussed with Trump during their meeting the possibility of Ukraine obtaining a license to produce anti-ballistic systems and missiles. According to Ukrainska Pravda on June 16, he planned a second bilateral meeting with Trump on Wednesday, June 17, on the sidelines of the summit. Teams from both countries were pursuing intensive technical discussions at several levels. The dialogue, after months of freezing, was clearly reactivated.

Trump’s shadow on the G7 results

Yet, the end of the summit also served as a reminder of the limits of Trumpian engagement. During his closing press conference — lasting an hour and centered on Iran — Trump thanked Putin for his "neutrality" in the Iranian conflict, immediately contradicting the signals of firmness sent earlier in the week. The Kyiv Independent ran the headline: "Trump thanks Putin for Iranian 'neutrality,' immediately questioning statements about a change in tone at the G7." It was Trump in all his unpredictability — giving with one hand, taking back with the other.

The final G7 communiqué, despite these contradictions, remained historically significant. For the first time since the start of Trump’s second term, all seven members spoke with a single voice of unwavering support for Ukraine. The declaration proclaimed: "We, the leaders of the G7, are united in our unwavering support for Ukraine to defend its freedom, its sovereignty and its territorial integrity." A formulation that Trump had countersigned. Whatever the motivations, the signature is there.

The record of Évian is ambiguous, and I think we have to accept that. Heads: a finally unanimous G7, strengthened sanctions, an opening on military licenses, and Trump saying "Russia should make peace." Tails: an American president thanking Putin the day before leaving the summit, reminding us that his support for Ukraine remains conditional and volatile. It is the precarious balance in which Zelensky is forced to navigate every day. And it is exhausting, and courageous, all at once.

What the Évian G7 accomplished — and what remains to be done

The G7 in France on June 15–17, 2026, produced tangible results: an unprecedented consensus among the seven nations on support for Ukraine, a commitment to strengthen sanctions against Russia, a historic opening on military production licenses for Kyiv, and — perhaps most importantly — a visible American re-engagement after months of indifference. The coordinated pressure from the E3 led to an inflection, even if the terms of peace remain to be defined and imposed.

But the road remains long. Putin is not at the table. American negotiators Witkoff and Kushner, according to Le Monde, "would soon return" to Russia — without a specific schedule and without Europe in the room. The question of who represents Europe in potential direct discussions remains unanswered. And Trump remains fundamentally unpredictable. The risk of a slip-up — a new solo conversation between Washington and Moscow that bypasses Kyiv and Brussels — remains very real.

Ukraine in a position of strength: A fragile but historic balance

What distinguishes June 2026 from June 2025 is that Ukraine is no longer in an exclusively defensive position. Its drones are striking Moscow. Its economy is resisting. Its army is holding. Zelensky has convinced Trump that he is "winning" — and even the most sober analyses recognize that Russia can no longer claim a clear military victory. In this context, European pressure to host talks is not a capitulation — it is an attempt to convert a military advantage into diplomatic capital before ally fatigue sets in again.

The Évian G7 will be remembered as the moment when Europe regained its place at the table — not yet at the top, not yet with the weight of Washington, but with the voice of those who pay, who arm, and who still believe that Ukraine can win a just peace. Autumn 2026, according to the Europeans themselves, is the most realistic horizon for serious talks. Until then, the war continues. And Ukraine continues to fight.

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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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.