No conversation about Ukraine's future should happen without Ukrainian participation
On the eve of a summit that neither of them would attend, British Prime Minister Keir Starmer and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky met at Downing Street to steady their footing before Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin convened in Alaska — a meeting that could redraw the contours of a war now entering its fourth year. Britain signaled it was prepared to tighten economic pressure on Moscow should the Kremlin refuse a ceasefire, while European allies insisted that no settlement forged without Ukraine's voice could claim legitimacy. The moment crystallized a recurring tension in modern diplomacy: that the fates of nations are often shaped in rooms where those nations are not present.
- With Trump and Putin set to meet in Alaska within hours, European capitals scrambled to ensure Ukraine's red lines — no territorial concessions — were understood before any deal could be floated.
- Zelensky's exclusion from the initial Alaska talks unsettled London, Paris, and Berlin, who have collectively insisted that Ukraine's future cannot be negotiated over its head.
- Britain announced it had already drafted a new sanctions package and prepared deployment plans for an international peacekeeping force, signaling it was ready for both a deal and the absence of one.
- The Willing Coalition — Starmer, Macron, and Merz — issued a joint warning that sanctions on Russia must be strengthened if Alaska produces no ceasefire agreement, hardening the diplomatic stakes.
- Putin's reported demand that Ukraine surrender remaining Donbas territory collides directly with Ukraine's constitutional prohibition on ceding land, leaving the gap between the two sides as wide as ever.
- Trump suggested a second meeting with Zelensky could follow Alaska, framing the summit less as a conclusion than as the opening move in a longer, uncertain sequence.
One day before Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin were scheduled to meet in Alaska, British Prime Minister Keir Starmer welcomed Volodymyr Zelensky to Downing Street — not for ceremony, but for strategy. The two leaders used the meeting to align their positions ahead of a summit that could reshape a conflict now stretching into its fourth year, and to which neither of them had been invited.
Starmer was direct about Britain's intentions: if the Kremlin rejected a ceasefire proposal, London was prepared to escalate economic pressure through a new package of sanctions and broader measures. Beyond that, British officials had already drafted plans for a so-called guarantee force — an international peacekeeping contingent that would deploy into Ukraine once hostilities ceased, tasked with securing territory and monitoring any agreement's compliance.
The exclusion of Zelensky from the Alaska talks had created visible unease among European allies. London, Paris, and Berlin had all maintained that Ukraine's future could not be discussed without Ukrainian participation. Trump, for his part, pushed back on the suggestion that the exclusion was his doing, noting he had spoken with Zelensky the day before in a call Starmer also joined, and hinting that a second, potentially more substantive meeting would follow.
Underneath the diplomatic choreography lay a stark impasse. Western sources indicated Putin was demanding that Ukraine formally surrender the portions of Donbas it still controlled — a condition Zelensky had categorically refused, and one that Ukraine's own constitution prohibits. The Willing Coalition, co-chaired by Starmer, French President Emmanuel Macron, and German Chancellor Friedrich Merz, issued a joint statement insisting that international borders must not be redrawn by force, and that sanctions must be strengthened if Alaska yielded no agreement.
For Starmer, the Downing Street meeting served two purposes at once: to ensure Ukraine entered the post-Alaska phase with a coherent diplomatic front and continued military support, and to send Moscow a clear signal that economic pressure would only deepen if occupation persisted. The peacekeeping plan was itself a kind of hedge — a way to prepare for peace while acknowledging that peace might not come. As the two leaders left Downing Street, the negotiation that would actually matter was about to begin, three thousand miles away, in a room where neither of them had a seat.
On Thursday, British Prime Minister Keir Starmer hosted Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky at Downing Street in a carefully timed diplomatic maneuver—one day before Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin were scheduled to meet in Alaska. The gathering was less a celebration than a strategic huddle, a chance for two leaders to align their positions before what could reshape the three-year conflict.
Starmer made clear that Britain was prepared to tighten the economic vise on Moscow if the Kremlin rejected a ceasefire proposal. "We are ready to increase pressure on Russia, particularly in the economy, with sanctions and broader measures as necessary," he said. The British government had already drafted a new package of sanctions and was preparing plans to deploy what officials called a "guarantee force"—an international peacekeeping contingent that would move into Ukraine once hostilities ended, tasked with securing recovered territory and monitoring compliance with any agreement.
The timing was deliberate. Trump had warned of "severe consequences" if Russia refused a ceasefire, and suggested he might hold a second meeting with Zelensky after the Alaska summit. Starmer acknowledged the Trump-Putin meeting would be "of enormous importance" to the conflict's trajectory. For more than three years, he noted, no viable path to a ceasefire had emerged. Now one seemed possible, he said, because of Trump's diplomatic push.
Yet the arrangement carried an awkward tension. Zelensky would not be at the table in Alaska for the initial Trump-Putin talks—a fact that had unsettled European allies. London, Paris, and Berlin had all insisted that no conversation about Ukraine's future should happen without Ukrainian participation. When asked whether excluding Zelensky was his decision, Trump pushed back: "No, quite the opposite." He said he had spoken with Zelensky the day before in a "very, very friendly" call that Starmer also attended, and that a second meeting would likely follow, potentially more productive than the first.
Behind the diplomatic language lay a fundamental dispute. Western sources indicated that Putin's core demand was that Ukraine surrender the portions of the Donbas region it still controlled. Zelensky had repeatedly refused any proposal involving territorial concessions—a position enshrined in Ukraine's constitution. The Willing Coalition, a group co-chaired by Starmer, French President Emmanuel Macron, and German Chancellor Friedrich Merz, issued a joint statement reminding all parties that "international borders must not be changed by force" and warning that sanctions against Moscow "must be strengthened" if no ceasefire agreement emerged from Alaska.
For Starmer, Thursday's meeting served a dual purpose: to ensure Ukraine entered the post-Alaska phase with a unified diplomatic front and sustained military backing, and to signal to Russia that economic pressure would only intensify if occupation continued. The peacekeeping force plan itself was a hedge—a way to imagine a settlement while preparing for the possibility that none would materialize. As the two leaders departed Downing Street, the real negotiation was about to begin three thousand miles away, in a place where neither of them would be present.
Citações Notáveis
We are ready to increase pressure on Russia, particularly in the economy, with sanctions and broader measures as necessary.— Keir Starmer, British Prime Minister
International borders must not be changed by force, and sanctions against Moscow must be strengthened if no ceasefire agreement emerges.— Willing Coalition statement (Starmer, Macron, Merz)
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does it matter that Zelensky isn't in the room when Trump and Putin talk?
Because any agreement made without him could be imposed on Ukraine rather than chosen by it. If Trump and Putin sketch out a deal that involves territorial loss, Zelensky walks in afterward to a fait accompli.
But Trump says there will be a second meeting with Zelensky. Doesn't that solve the problem?
It helps, but it's reactive rather than proactive. Zelensky gets to respond to what's already been discussed, not shape it from the start. That's a weaker negotiating position.
What's the actual leverage Britain thinks it has here?
Sanctions and the promise of a peacekeeping force. If Russia refuses a ceasefire, Britain tightens the economic screws. If Russia accepts one, Britain helps guarantee it holds by putting boots on the ground.
Can Britain actually enforce that peacekeeping commitment?
Not alone. That's why Starmer is coordinating with Macron and Merz. It's a coalition strategy—shared risk, shared responsibility. But it only works if all three countries stay committed.
What does Zelensky actually want from this meeting?
Assurance that whatever happens in Alaska, Ukraine won't be forced to give up territory. And proof that the West will back that position with economic and military support if negotiations fail.
Is there any scenario where this works out well for Ukraine?
Yes, if Trump uses the threat of sanctions to pressure Putin into accepting a ceasefire without territorial concessions. But that requires Trump to prioritize Ukrainian sovereignty over a quick deal, which isn't guaranteed.