Weeks after Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy discussed with U.S. President Donald Trump and European leaders in Washington a potential agreement to end Russia’s war, peace is no closer.
In September, the process moved to Paris, where the Élysée Palace promised a landmark summit. In the end, the results fell short of expectations. Thirty-five states took part, though only six EU leaders attended in person. The modest turnout underlined the gap between rhetoric and real ambition.
Meanwhile, Russia has intensified strikes on Ukraine—including mass drone-missile barrages that have repeatedly spilled into NATO airspace—while Western capitals struggle to turn talk about “security guarantees” into an executable plan.
The Washington conversations did shift the vocabulary. U.S. officials, long wary of the term “guarantees,” are now using it in public, even as they stress that any package would take effect only after a ceasefire or peace deal.
U.S. President Trump has said the U.S. would help assure Ukraine’s security in an eventual settlement, but he continues to rule out sending American troops and ties tougher sanctions on Russia to Europe first ending purchases of Russian oil—a direct challenge to holdouts such as Hungary.
Paris Promises vs. Political Gravityy
Paris was billed as the moment the “coalition of the determined” would move from rhetoric to architecture. France convened European partners and declared a breakthrough: 26 countries pledged to contribute to a post-war reassurance force for Ukraine—some potentially with troops on Ukrainian soil; others with air, sea, training, or logistics support from NATO territory.
The guarantees, leaders stressed, would deploy the day the fighting stops to deter renewed Russian aggression.
The headlines masked a crucial nuance. “Troops or assistance” encompassed everything from symbolic contingents to offshore air policing and training missions outside Ukraine. Several governments immediately clarified they will not send soldiers under any circumstances; instead, they’ll focus on training, monitoring, and logistics.
That includes a prominent role for Poland’s Rzeszów hub, through which most allied materiel transits today, and a second hub under development in Romania—a sign the alliance is hard-wiring long-term supply routes even as it avoids boots on the ground.
Macron’s Bold Claim and the Reality Check
French President Emmanuel Macron announced that 26 states were ready to “send a contingent of assistance” to Ukraine. The phrasing made headlines suggesting troops might soon deploy. But behind the statement, the reality was far more restrained.
Germany remains hesitant. Chancellor Friedrich Merz has yet to commit troops and prefers financial contributions. But European diplomats warn that Berlin’s credibility as a leader is at stake. Participation in the coalition’s security framework, even in limited form, is seen as crucial if Germany wants to assert itself in Europe’s strategic future.
Many states, including Italy, clarified that no soldiers would be sent under any conditions. Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni stressed Italy would contribute to training and monitoring missions outside Ukraine, but not to a troop presence.
Poland’s Prime Minister Donald Tusk echoed this stance, saying Poland’s role would remain logistical—operating the Rzeszów hub through which weapons flow to Ukraine. Romania, in turn, offered an air base as a future transit hub.
The emerging picture is one of symbolic presence and logistical support, not a robust military deployment.
Kyiv’s early ask, and the shrinking numbers
At the start of the debate, Ukrainian leadership floated a robust deterrent: a Western presence in the demilitarized zone along the contact line—initially scoped at ~64,000 personnel, later discussed nearer 25,000. Political reality has pared those figures back.
What’s emerging is a lighter, modular posture: small liaison teams on Ukrainian soil after a truce; heavy emphasis on air and maritime layers run from NATO territory; and a persistent logistics backbone. Think of it as reassurance by ecosystem rather than by occupation. (This aligns with French framing and allied readouts from the Paris process.)
A small international presence may still be agreed upon, but more for symbolic reassurance than military effectiveness. Instead, European partners are emphasizing alternative measures, such as air patrols from NATO territory and new formats of air defense cooperation involving U.S. participation.
Two elements stand out:
- Air domain: Expanded patrols and integrated defenses cued from NATO soil, potentially with U.S. participation—short of combat aircraft flying over Ukraine in wartime, but designed to snap into place once a ceasefire holds.
- Sanctions-security linkage: A transatlantic sanctions track tied to Russian behavior and (in Washington’s view) to Europe’s energy imports and China policy. Trump has publicly conditioned sweeping new U.S. measures on a total stop to Russian oil purchases by European NATO partners, a demand already provoking friction with Budapest.
The Russian war keeps reminding NATO why this matters
For all the summits and declarations, one fact remains: genuine security guarantees can only take effect after a ceasefire or peace agreement. While Russia shows no intention of stopping its aggression, negotiations continue as if preparing for a postwar order.
Critics call the talks virtual because none of this can fully activate while Russia is massively attacking Ukraine—and Moscow shows no intention of pausing its war. Yet the scaffolding being built is real.
Ukraine and partners now speak of a framework on paper, with details being hammered out among national security advisers in Kyiv and Washington. The very act of codifying roles—air/sea layers, hubs, training lanes, intelligence—narrows ambiguity and raises the political cost of backsliding once a truce comes.
Meanwhile, the Russian war keeps reminding NATO why this matters. Romania and Poland face Russian drone incursions during Russian strikes on Ukraine; Poland has repeatedly adjusted air defenses and airspace in response to Russian drones. Each incident reinforces the allied will for tighter eastern-flank shields—and for a postwar posture that deters a new full-scale invasion.
The unresolved questions
Europe’s center of gravity. Berlin insists it will be a principal funder and trainer; whether it joins any on-the-ground reassurance presence after a truce remains politically sensitive. Paris and London are more forward-leaning on a limited troop role post-war but seek broad participation to avoid a solely Franco-British model.
U.S. conditionality. Washington’s stance now couples security guarantees with economic levers: energy sanctions, China-related measures, and targeted industry partnerships (e.g., the accelerating U.S.–Ukraine critical minerals track) to anchor Ukraine’s recovery in the transatlantic economy.
Hungary’s veto powerBudapest’s veto power opposes any EU-wide oil cutoff.s and Orbán’s Kremlin-friendly rhetoric. Whether Trump’s pressure campaign changes that calculus will determine how credible the new harsh sanctions component looks to Moscow.
Between Determination and Hesitation
So far, the “coalition of the determined” remains hesitant, caught between ambitious declarations and political caution. Symbolic troop commitments are unlikely to deter Russia, but broader frameworks—involving sanctions, air defense, intelligence, and Ukraine’s EU path—could still provide meaningful protection in the long term.
Whether these guarantees become reality depends on two things: the willingness of European states to turn rhetoric into commitments and the clarity of Washington’s role. Until then, Ukraine faces the paradox of a coalition that promises much but struggles to act with unity and resolve, while Russia intensifies its attacks.
