They could still win it. I don't think they will, but they could still win it.
In the uncertain space between war and negotiation, Volodymyr Zelenskyy emerged from Washington with air defence systems in hand but not the weapons he sought, while Donald Trump offered Ukraine a kind of conditional faith — the belief that victory was possible, paired with the expectation that it would not come. The meeting revealed less about alliance than about the distance between what leaders say and what they mean, as Europe quietly prepared for a peace it had not been invited to shape, and Russian missiles continued to fall on civilian infrastructure far from the diplomatic rooms where Ukraine's fate was being discussed.
- Zelenskyy secured 25 Patriot air defence systems from Washington, a real gain — but Trump reportedly pressed him to surrender territory, and the Tomahawk missiles he sought never materialized.
- Trump's public assessment that Ukraine 'could still win it' but probably won't amounted to a forecast of defeat dressed in diplomatic language, marking yet another reversal in his shifting position on the war.
- With a Trump-Putin summit planned in Hungary and Ukraine pointedly excluded, European capitals are growing alarmed that the continent's security future may be negotiated without Kyiv at the table.
- Russian strikes on the Chernihiv region knocked out power to civilian areas near Chornobyl, a stark reminder that the war's human cost continues regardless of what is said in Washington or Brussels.
- Europe is mobilizing: a 140 billion euro reconstruction loan backed by frozen Russian assets is gaining support, and Britain is already funding a joint UK-France stabilisation force designed to deploy the moment a ceasefire holds.
Volodymyr Zelenskyy left the White House claiming progress. Ukraine would receive 25 Patriot air defence systems — a meaningful addition to a depleted arsenal. But the fuller picture was more complicated. Trump had reportedly pushed Zelenskyy toward territorial concessions, the atmosphere had been tense, and the Tomahawk cruise missiles Kyiv wanted were not on offer. What Zelenskyy brought home was real, but it was not what he came for.
Trump's own words that week exposed the gap between diplomatic form and genuine conviction. Asked about Ukraine's prospects, he said the country could theoretically still win — then added that he didn't think it would. The statement functioned as a polite forecast of defeat. It was also the latest in a series of reversals: weeks earlier Trump had moved away from demanding territorial concessions; now, after a lengthy call with Putin, he was calling on both sides to simply stop where they stood. When asked about the inconsistency, he offered only that war was strange.
Zelenskyy's schedule reflected the urgency. He was heading to Brussels for a European Council summit, then to London for a gathering of nations committed to Ukraine's defence. The stakes were high: Trump was planning a summit with Putin in Hungary, and Ukraine had not been invited. European governments were quietly alarmed that talks capable of reshaping the continent's security order might proceed without Kyiv present.
The war itself offered no pause for diplomacy. Russian forces struck the Chernihiv region, targeting energy infrastructure and cutting power to civilian areas including Slavutych, a town near the decommissioned Chornobyl plant. Emergency crews worked to restore electricity as the strikes underscored what the negotiating rooms tend to obscure.
Europe was preparing for what might come next. A 140 billion euro loan to Ukraine, financed through frozen Russian central bank assets, had broad support among EU member states, though Belgium — which held much of the money — remained cautious. Britain's Defence Secretary announced that a post-ceasefire stabilisation force, to be led jointly by the UK and France, would cost London well over 100 million pounds, with spending already accelerated to allow rapid deployment if peace talks succeeded.
In Moscow, the legislative response moved in a different direction entirely. The lower house of parliament advanced a bill mandating life imprisonment for those who recruit minors into sabotage operations, lowering the age of criminal responsibility to 14. Backed by nearly all deputies, the measure was the latest expansion of Russia's wartime legal architecture — a system that has grown steadily since 2022, extending the state's reach over dissent and opposition even as its diplomats spoke the language of peace.
Volodymyr Zelenskyy walked out of his White House meeting with Donald Trump claiming victory. In remarks released to the press on Monday, the Ukrainian president described the encounter as productive, pointing to a concrete win: Ukraine would acquire 25 Patriot air defence systems, a substantial addition to its depleted arsenal. Yet the framing masked deeper tensions. Reports suggested Trump had been harsh during their time together, pushing Zelenskyy to surrender territory to Russia, and the mood had been considerably more strained than initial accounts indicated. Zelenskyy had not secured the Tomahawk cruise missiles he sought. What he got instead was a deal on air defence—real, but not what he came for.
Trump's own statements that week revealed the gap between diplomatic courtesy and actual conviction. Speaking to reporters on Monday, the president said he believed Ukraine could theoretically still win the war. "They could still win it. I don't think they will, but they could still win it," he offered, a formulation that amounted to saying he expected defeat. This marked another reversal in his position. Weeks earlier, Trump had abandoned his long-standing view that Kyiv would have to cede territory; after a lengthy call with Putin followed by the Zelenskyy meeting, he reversed course again, now calling on both sides to "stop where they are" and end the fighting. When pressed on his shifting stance, Trump shrugged. War, he said, was strange. Anything could happen.
Zelenskyy's diplomatic calendar reflected the urgency of the moment. He was scheduled to travel to Brussels on Thursday for a European Council summit, then to London on Friday for a meeting of the "coalition of the willing"—a gathering of nations committed to supporting Ukraine. The real prize was security guarantees for Kyiv, and Zelenskyy signaled that Europe would see "many meetings and negotiations" in the coming days. The timing was pointed. Trump was planning a summit with Vladimir Putin in Hungary, and Ukraine had not been invited. European capitals were growing uneasy about their ally's exclusion from talks that could reshape the continent's security architecture.
Meanwhile, the war ground on. On Monday, Russian forces struck the Chernihiv region in northern Ukraine, targeting energy infrastructure and knocking out power across stretches of territory, including the town of Slavutych, located 45 kilometers west of the decommissioned Chornobyl nuclear plant. Emergency crews mobilized to restore electricity to civilians caught in the blackout. It was a reminder that diplomatic maneuvering in Washington and Budapest occurred against a backdrop of ongoing destruction.
Europe was preparing for the possibility of peace, or at least its aftermath. The European Union had broad support among member states for a 140 billion euro loan to Ukraine, funded by frozen Russian central bank assets—a novel mechanism to finance reconstruction. The European Commission was pushing the plan, though Belgium, which held much of the frozen money, remained skeptical. Britain, meanwhile, was gearing up for a different kind of commitment. Defence Secretary John Healey announced that a post-ceasefire stabilisation force for Ukraine, to be led jointly by the UK and France, would cost Britain "well over 100 million pounds." Healey had already accelerated spending to ensure the multinational force could deploy rapidly if peace talks succeeded. "If President Trump can broker a peace," Healey said, "then we will be ready to help secure that peace for the long term."
In Moscow, lawmakers moved in the opposite direction. The lower house of parliament had drafted legislation mandating life imprisonment for anyone involving minors in sabotage operations, and lowering the age of criminal responsibility for such crimes to 14. The bill, introduced on Monday with backing from 419 of 450 deputies, was framed as a security measure. It was the latest in a series of laws Russia had enacted since the 2022 invasion, each expanding state security agencies' power to detain and prosecute those accused of misrepresenting the war or opposing the state. The legal architecture of repression was hardening even as diplomats spoke of peace.
Notable Quotes
They could still win it. I don't think they will, but they could still win it.— Donald Trump
If President Trump can broker a peace, then we will be ready to help secure that peace for the long term.— John Healey, British Defence Secretary
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why would Zelenskyy call the meeting positive if Trump was pushing him to give up territory?
Because in diplomacy, you claim victory even when you've compromised. He got the Patriot systems—that's real hardware, real defence. The territorial pressure is a separate conversation, one he's not winning, so he doesn't lead with it.
But Trump says he doesn't think Ukraine will win. Doesn't that undermine everything Zelenskyy is trying to do?
It does, but it also clarifies the landscape. Trump is signalling to Putin that he's open to a settlement. Zelenskyy has to work with that reality, not against it. Hence the European tour—he's building a coalition that doesn't depend on Trump's optimism.
Why is Britain preparing a stabilisation force if there's no ceasefire yet?
Because the window for negotiation might be closing, and if it opens, you need to be ready. Healey is saying: we believe peace is possible, and we're positioning ourselves to enforce it. It's a bet on Trump's willingness to broker a deal.
What does Russia's new law about minors tell us?
That Moscow is preparing for a long conflict, not a short one. You don't pass laws like that if you expect to negotiate away the war. It's hardening the state for sustained resistance—or sustained control of occupied territory.
So everyone is preparing for different outcomes at once?
Exactly. Europe is preparing for peace and for continued war. Trump is signalling openness to settlement while maintaining scepticism about Ukraine's prospects. Russia is legislating for permanence. Nobody knows what comes next, so everyone hedges.