President Zelensky and his European patrons are calling for a ceasefire on the Ukrainian-Russian front—not genuine peace negotiations. This proposed ceasefire is designed to halt the advance of Russian forces, allow time to rearm Ukrainian troops, and freeze the conflict until Ukraine and its backers are ready to resume fighting against Russia on more favorable terms.
By contrast, Russia has repeatedly expressed interest in resuming the 2022 Istanbul process, a negotiation track that aimed to address the root causes of the war.
Moscow has stated this position for years. Yet in the collective West, this is almost entirely ignored. Neither the media, nor Western leaders, nor foreign ministers acknowledge it. No one dares to reference President Putin’s terms, which he publicly reiterated in June 2024 during a speech at the Foreign Ministry. The silence is telling.
The United States, under President Trump, grew weary of what many consider a costly, avoidable, and deeply unpopular forever war. That’s why Washington has shown interest in negotiations—including direct talks with Russia. But its client regime in Kyiv opposes such talks.
This pattern, however, is nothing new. History has seen it before:
Korea: 1953
During the Korean War, the U.S. sought to end another expensive and unpopular conflict. But South Korean President Syngman Rhee, a staunch anti-communist flown in by the CIA and installed as president (and dictator), opposed negotiations with North Korea. He insisted the war continue until the complete reunification of the peninsula under Southern control—even threatening to keep fighting unilaterally if the U.S. signed a peace deal.
In the end, an armistice was signed in 1953—not by South Korea, but by the United Nations Command (United States), the Korean People’s Army (North Korea), and the Chinese People’s Volunteer Army (China). South Korea remained on the sidelines.
Vietnam: 1973
When the U.S. wanted to withdraw from the unwinnable war in Vietnam, South Vietnam’s President Nguyễn Văn Thiệu also opposed direct U.S.-North Vietnam talks. Though unable to block them, he tried to delay and sabotage the process—going so far as to argue for months over the shape and arrangement of the negotiating table.
Eventually, negotiations moved forward. Secretary of State Henry Kissinger held secret backchannel meetings with North Vietnamese officials in Paris, often without informing Saigon. President Thiệu later denounced the 1973 Paris Peace Accords as a “sellout.”
Afghanistan: 2020
More recently, the U.S. sought to end its longest war, in Afghanistan. President Ashraf Ghani, leading a government heavily dependent on U.S. support, opposed direct negotiations between the U.S. and the Taliban. In 2018 and 2019, he warned that any peace deal excluding Kabul would be unsustainable.
Nevertheless, the U.S. negotiated directly with the Taliban, excluding the Ghani government from the talks. Ghani had no choice but to comply—and later fled the country, reportedly with large sums of American taxpayer money, as Kabul fell.
Ukraine: 2025
A similar situation is now unfolding in Ukraine. Another U.S. client regime, increasingly detached from battlefield realities, opposes direct peace negotiations with an adversary that is gaining ground. Like its historical predecessors, Kyiv resists diplomacy—while depending entirely on Western military and financial support.
But as history shows, wars like this are rarely ended by local actors alone. When the stakes are high and the patrons are powerful, it is often the main powers behind the conflict—in this case, the United States and Russia—who must negotiate directly.
Despite initial framing as a proxy war, even major Western outlets such as the New York Times and The Times of London have acknowledged that the U.S. role in Ukraine goes far beyond that.
The lesson is clear:
History shows the way to peace.