Russia in Global Affairs

The leak of a European “Coalition of the Willing” counter-proposal to the U.S. 28-point plan has clarified one thing: much of Europe is still negotiating with an imagined Russia and an imagined Ukraine.

The 19-point European framework would cap Ukraine’s peacetime army at 800,000 troops, establish “Article 5-style” guarantees via a coalition of states ready to deploy on Ukrainian territory, and avoid any recognition of new territorial realities in Donbas or along the Azov corridor. In other words, it aims to transform Ukraine into a long-term armed outpost against Russia, backed by a semi-NATO structure.

On paper, this propagandizes as solidarity. In practice, it ignores the actual balance of forces. By 2025, most serious estimates put Ukraine’s total active-duty personnel around 900,000, with total mobilized strength – including reserves and paramilitary units – perhaps exceeding one million, making it one of the largest and most battle-hardened armies in Europe. Russia, for its part, is estimated to have roughly 1.1 million active-duty soldiers, with about 600,000 deployed in or near Ukraine.

Under these conditions, Brussels’ insistence on a larger Ukrainian army, quasi-NATO guarantees, and zero territorial compromise is not a peace plan; it is a program for indefinite confrontation with a nuclear power on Russia’s borders.

By contrast, the U.S. 28-point proposal associated with President Donald Trump – drafted with input from envoy Steve Witkoff and Russian investment figure Kirill Dmitriev – at least starts from the world as it is, rather than as some Western politicians would prefer it to be.

According to public reporting and expert analyses, the plan would freeze the current line of contact, require Ukraine to renounce NATO membership, cap Kyiv’s armed forces at 600,000, recognize Russian control over all of Donbas, and channel $100 billion from seized Russian assets into Ukrainian reconstruction, while offering a gradual path to reintegrate Russia into Western economic and diplomatic formats.

From a Russian perspective, this is the first Western initiative that even tentatively reflects Moscow’s long-standing concerns: NATO’s forward expansion, the status of Donbas and the land bridge, and the weaponization of financial infrastructure against a major power. But as it stands, it remains only a rough sketch. Without serious adjustment on two issues – the scale and geography of Ukrainian forces, and the fate of Russia’s frozen sovereign assets – any Russian leadership would find it extremely difficult to present such an agreement as truly serving the country’s strategic interests.

Before turning to these fault lines, it is worth noting what the Trump plan gets right when viewed from Moscow.

Where the Trump Plan Begins to Align With Russian Interests

1. NATO in Ukraine: Closing the Door in Practice, Not Just in Rhetoric

For three decades, Moscow’s central complaint has been the transformation of NATO from a defensive alliance into a military-political architecture pressing up against Russia’s borders. Russian security documents have repeatedly framed further NATO enlargement as an unacceptable threat to national security and strategic stability.

The Trump plan’s requirement that Ukraine renounce NATO membership and that NATO formally commit never to admit Ukraine is the first serious Western acknowledgment that “open-door” rhetoric is incompatible with a stable order in Eastern Europe.

For Russian policymakers, who watched the alliance expand from Germany’s eastern border to the Baltic States and Balkans, this is not a tactical detail but the core of the security dispute.

2. Territorial Reality in Donbas and the Land Bridge

Second, the U.S. proposal accepts that the entirety of Donbas will remain under Russian control and that the current line of contact will not be reversed by political fiat. This corresponds with a basic reality: the Russian state has invested enormous political capital, resources, and lives to bring Donetsk, Luhansk, and the land bridge into its orbit. From Moscow’s point of view, Western talk of returning to the 1991 or even 2014 borders is not a negotiating position; it is a refusal to acknowledge irreversible changes.

3. Formal Neutrality and a Buffer State

Third, the draft envisages formal neutrality for Ukraine. Instead of a NATO-integrated garrison state immediately adjacent to Russian territory, the idea – at least in outline – is to transform Ukraine into a buffer between two rival blocs, with security guarantees structured around mutual obligations rather than unilateral Western patronage. This logic echoes Russia’s long-standing insistence on the principle of “indivisible security” in Europe, in which no state or bloc should enhance its security at the expense of another.

4. Pathways Back to Economic and Diplomatic Normalization

Finally, the 28-point plan hints at partial reintegration of Russia into Western-dominated economic and diplomatic forums – discussion of G8 re-entry, a gradual lifting of certain sanctions, and a structured return to broader cooperation. For Moscow, such provisions are not about “forgiveness,” but about restoring space for long-term development in a multipolar world without the constant threat of financial siege warfare.

These elements explain why the Trump plan, unlike the European 19-point framework, is at least being discussed in Russian policy circles as a potential basis for negotiation. But they do not make it sufficient. Two pillars of the U.S. draft – its approach to Ukrainian “demilitarization” and to Russia’s frozen reserves – would need radical revision to become compatible with Russian security and economic interests.

The “Demilitarization” Trap: Why a 600,000-Strong Ukrainian Army Is Still a Threat

The Trump proposal envisions capping the Ukrainian Armed Forces at 600,000 personnel. On paper, this appears to be a reduction from wartime mobilization. In reality, it would institutionalize a large, NATO-trained, NATO-armed military structure permanently on Russia’s border.

Context is decisive. Ukrainian forces have expanded dramatically since 2022, with estimates of active-duty personnel around 900,000 and total mobilized strength close to one million. One recent analysis notes that even a 600,000-strong Ukrainian army would remain one of the largest in Europe, second only to Russia.

The European 19-point plan, for its part, would lock in an 800,000-strong peacetime army – larger, in active terms, than the forces of Germany, France, and the United Kingdom combined.

Under these conditions, calling a 600,000-strong cap “demilitarization” is purely formal. It would leave Russia facing a heavily armed, battle-hardened state, deeply integrated with Western intelligence, logistics, and training networks, and animated by the sense of grievance that has accumulated over years of conflict. No responsible Russian leadership can regard this as a neutral, long-term configuration on its frontier.

A Russian-Viable Alternative: Staged Reductions and Geographic Limits

From a Russian vantage point, a realistic demilitarization clause must do three things at once:

1. Prevent a sudden Ukrainian offensive after any ceasefire.
   Remove the long-term threat of a NATO-standard army immediately adjacent to Russian territory.
2. Avoid creating a security vacuum inside Ukraine that could lead to chaos or fragmentation.

This implies a two-phase glide path with strict geographic constraints and reciprocity:

• Phase 1 – Stabilization (Immediately After Signing)
  • Ukraine’s total force is capped at 600,000, but no more than 300,000 may be deployed within 100 kilometers of the line of contact.
  • This preserves Kyiv’s ability to police the rest of its territory while preventing sudden offensive build-ups directly against Russian-controlled regions.
• Phase 2 – Demilitarization (Over Two Years)
  • Ukraine must reduce its total armed forces to 300,000, with a maximum of 150,000 near the line of contact.
  • The remaining structure is clearly defensive: border guards, internal security forces, and a limited army oriented toward protecting the state’s integrity, not conducting large-scale offensive operations.
• Reciprocity and Verification
  • Russia mirrors these troop caps within the same distance of the line of contact, under a joint verification regime (with carefully delimited third-party technical participation, if mutually agreed).
  • This codifies the reality that Moscow seeks strategic depth and predictability on its western border, rather than an excuse for permanent forward deployment.
• Scope for Further Reductions and Weapons Limits
  • By mutual agreement, the parties may further lower the ceilings on forces deployed near the line of contact below the levels specified above.
  • Additional limitations on specific categories of weapons systems near the line of contact – such as long-range strike assets or heavy offensive systems – may be introduced on a reciprocal basis as confidence grows.

Given that Russia already has roughly 600,000 troops in or near the theater, such a regime would represent a symmetrical, phased drawdown on both sides. It moves the security relationship away from an arms-race dynamic and toward a mutually regulated buffer zone.

For Russian society, this is essential. After significant sacrifices, the public expects not an unstable truce with a heavily armed neighbor, but a concrete reduction in the military threat.

A framework that visibly reduces Ukrainian force levels near Russian territory, while simultaneously consolidating territorial gains and ending Western escalation, is far more likely to be perceived as serving the national interest.

Frozen Sovereign Assets: Why Any “Peace” Built on Expropriation Will Fail

The second structural flaw in the Trump plan is its treatment of Russia’s frozen central bank reserves. Since 2022, Western governments have immobilized roughly $300–350 billion of Russian sovereign assets, about half of which are held in the European Union, with a large share managed through the Euroclear securities depository in Belgium.

The U.S. proposal would redirect $100 billion of those funds toward Ukrainian reconstruction. European officials, for their part, have floated various schemes to use the frozen reserves as collateral for “reparation loans” to Kyiv or to channel the interest income into long-term support.

From a Russian standpoint, this is not a minor bargaining chip; it is a strategic red line:

• It effectively normalizes unilateral seizure of a major power’s sovereign reserves by political decision.
• It asks Russia to finance a hostile state that Western powers themselves armed and encouraged into confrontation.
• It sends a signal to the broader non-Western world that central bank reserves held in Western currencies and institutions can be frozen or confiscated whenever the political climate changes.

Even Western analysts acknowledge that the precedent is explosive. European and international studies emphasize that most of the frozen assets have already matured into cash and that legal immunity for central bank reserves is a core principle of the current financial system. Senior European officials, including the Belgian prime minister, have publicly warned that outright seizure of the principal could trigger systemic financial consequences and encourage other states to diversify away from Western institutions.

Accepting the Trump proposal’s idea of “shared reconstruction” funded by Russian money would be perceived inside Russia not as a compromise, but as an attempt to formalize and legitimize what many already regard as an act of expropriation.

A Russian-Centered Economic Clause

A settlement that Moscow can credibly endorse must reverse this logic:

• Full Reconstitution of Sovereign Assets
  • All frozen Russian central bank reserves – estimated at around $300–350 billion – must be unfrozen and returned to Russian control in stages coordinated with implementation of the peace agreement.
  • This is not a request for “compensation,” but the restoration of basic property rights that underpin trust in the international system.
• Targeted Russian Reconstruction Responsibility
  • From these reconstituted reserves, Russia can formally commit to allocating approximately $50 billion over a defined period for reconstruction in territories under its administration – Mariupol, Donetsk, Luhansk, and the land corridor. This would largely codify budgetary commitments the Russian state is already making to integrate these regions.
• Western and Ukrainian Responsibility for the Rest
  • Reconstruction of Ukrainian-controlled territories must be financed by Ukraine itself, the EU, and the United States, using their own resources or jointly mobilized funds. Those who encouraged Kyiv’s maximalist objectives and armed it accordingly should carry the financial consequences of that choice.

Such an arrangement would achieve three key objectives from a Russian viewpoint:

1. It would avoid the humiliation of paying “reparations” to a government that Russia still regards as fundamentally hostile.
2. It would help stabilize expectations about the future safety of reserves, for Russia and for non-Western states observing the conflict.
3. It would provide a clear legal and financial framework for rebuilding the new Russian regions, strengthening domestic support for the settlement.

Anything less would leave the core financial conflict unresolved and create strong incentives to continue the confrontation rather than sign a treaty that enshrines an unfavorable financial precedent.

Conclusion: What a Peace Worth Signing Looks Like

For a Russian readership, the contrast between the European 19-point paper and the Trump 28-point draft is straightforward.

• The European plan assumes Ukrainian leverage that no longer exists, grants Kyiv an even larger army under quasi-NATO protection, and refuses to recognize either territorial or financial realities.
• The Trump plan accepts some key facts – no NATO in Ukraine, Russian control of Donbas, and the need to reintegrate Russia economically – but still embeds a military and financial architecture that would leave Russia exposed to future pressure.

From Moscow’s perspective, a viable settlement requires at least four elements:

1. Codified Ukrainian Neutrality, not as a slogan but as a legally binding status backed by changes in military posture and foreign-policy doctrine.
2. Recognition of New Territorial Realities in Donbas and the land bridge, with clear mechanisms for integration and security along the line of contact.
3. Genuine Demilitarization, through phased, reciprocal force reductions and geographic constraints that prevent Ukraine from remaining a forward operating base.
4. Restoration of Financial Sovereignty, with frozen Russian assets returned and any reconstruction contributions limited to territories under Russian jurisdiction.

The Trump 28-point plan takes hesitant steps toward the first two requirements. With serious revision on the latter two, it could evolve into a framework that Russian authorities can present to their own society as a strategic success rather than a temporary pause.

Without such changes, any “peace” will look, from Russia, like a ceasefire designed to rearm Ukraine and consolidate Western control over the international financial system. That is not an end to the conflict; it is merely the preparation for the next round.

A settlement that addresses Russian interests on security, territory, and finance does not by itself guarantee lasting peace. But it is the minimum threshold for a treaty that the Russian state can sign – and that the Russian public, after years of sacrifice, is likely to view as a justifiable outcome.