“Peace” or Surrender Manual? Why the American-Russian “Deal” on Ukraine Looks Like a Russian Wish-List

 

This “peace deal” is a Russian trap in American clothing—designed to disarm Ukraine, reward Putin, and sabotage Europe if anyone is foolish enough to sign it. If the world wants real peace, it must demand a deal built on sovereignty, not submission; on equality, not coercion; on justice, not fear. Until then, any document like this belongs where it came from—the scrap pile of failed attempts to dress capitulation as compromise.

I won’t sugarcoat it, because the moment demands blunt honesty. This so-called American-Russian plan to “end” the war in Ukraine is not a peace proposal. It is a political landmine wrapped in diplomatic ribbon, a document so lopsided it might as well have come straight from the Kremlin printer with an American postage stamp slapped on top. When Steve Witkoff, President Trump’s ‘errand boy’,  and Vladimir Putin’s envoy Kirill Dmitriev sat down to draft a 28-point plan without Ukraine’s knowledge, they didn’t design a roadmap for peace—they wrote a surrender manual. And they expected Ukraine to sign it while fighting off invasion and enduring a corruption scandal designed to weaken its political muscles. If that isn’t geopolitical opportunism dressed up as diplomacy, I don’t know what is.

When I read that Ukraine would be forced to slash its military to 40 percent of its current size while Russia gets to keep every boot standing, it reminded me of the old saying that a farmer who sharpens only one blade before a duel already knows who he wants to win. This deal disarms Ukraine while letting Russia pose for victory photos. That alone exposes the plan’s core intent. But the proposal goes further, demanding that Ukraine cede more territory beyond what Russia already occupies illegally, ban long-range weapons that could deter future attacks, keep foreign troops out, stop foreign diplomats from flying into Ukraine, restore a pro-Kremlin church that Ukraine dissolved for espionage concerns, and declare Russian a second state language. In other words, Russia gets land, leverage, language, and spiritual influence—Ukraine loses sovereignty, security, and the ability to breathe politically. This is not a peace offer; this is Moscow ordering from a menu and expecting Kyiv to pay the bill.

The dangerous irony is that Russia hasn’t earned these terms on the battlefield. Analysts note that Moscow has not made a major breakthrough since 2022, meaning Ukraine is bloodied but not broken. History teaches us that peace deals forced on nations that have not actually lost wars only plant the seeds for more conflict. Think of the Munich Agreement in 1938, when European leaders handed Hitler the Sudetenland hoping it would “preserve peace.” Instead, it became the appetizer before a much darker main course. This Witkoff-Dmitriev document has the same bitter aroma: concessions now, disaster later.

The timing is too convenient to ignore. The proposal was presented the very moment Zelensky faced his worst political crisis since the war began. It feels like someone threw a drowning man an anchor instead of a lifeline. Sources in Ukraine worry that American actors are exploiting a corruption scandal to push Kyiv into a corner. And considering that Witkoff reportedly walked into the discussions without understanding the political firestorm he was entering, it raises the suspicion that his role may be more messenger than mastermind—someone carrying a trial balloon designed to embarrass or pressure Zelensky, even if unintentionally.

This tactic isn’t new. The playbook of pressuring Ukraine during moments of internal crisis has been Russia’s signature move since at least 2014. During Euromaidan, during the annexation of Crimea, during the breakdown of the Minsk agreements—each time Russia advanced when Ukraine was consumed by internal strain. And every time Ukraine accepted a “compromise,” Russia treated it as a down payment, not a settlement. That is why this proposal is so dangerous: it assumes Russia negotiates in good faith, when history repeatedly shows the opposite.

Look closely and you’ll see a strategic trap. If Ukraine accepts troop reductions, Russia gains a permanent military advantage. If Ukraine accepts territorial losses, Russia gets a legal stamp on illegal conquest. If Ukraine allows the Russian Orthodox Church back in, Russia regains an internal propaganda pipeline. If Ukraine restores the Russian language to state status, Russia regains a cultural foothold used in the past to justify interventions under the excuse of “protecting Russian speakers.” When the fox writes the rules for the henhouse, peace is just another word for dinnertime.

Europe cannot stand on the sidelines here. Ukrainian containment has become a pillar of European security because every kilometer Russia seizes pushes its shadow deeper into Europe. If Ukraine is forced into a weak, disarmed, neutralized buffer state, Russia doesn’t stop—it reloads. European history screams this truth across centuries: unchecked aggression never freezes; it spreads. One only needs to recall that after Russia invaded Georgia in 2008 and faced no real consequences, Ukraine became the next target. If this deal passes, Moldova and the Baltics may hear Russia’s footsteps next.

There is also an economic angle the plan’s authors conveniently ignore. Ukraine has already seen millions displaced, thousands of businesses destroyed, and major infrastructure damage since 2022. To impose further territorial and military losses on top of that is to engineer a failed state. A weakened, fractured Ukraine would destabilize Europe’s energy routes, agricultural supply chains, and migration flows. The cost of that instability would fall heavily on Europe, not Russia.

The creators of this deal must know that no Ukrainian president could survive signing such a document. It would be political suicide. And perhaps that’s the goal: to make Zelensky look unreasonable if he refuses terms designed to humiliate him. But the Ukrainian people have shown since 2014 that they will not trade freedom for a cease-fire. They understand that a bad peace can be worse than war because it sets the stage for a larger, deadlier conflict.

That is why this plan must be rejected loudly, publicly, and without polite diplomacy. It is not a peace plan; it is a blueprint for future war. It rewards aggression, punishes the victim, and assigns America the role of co-author in Ukraine’s surrender. To accept it would be to hand Putin a victory he has not earned and cannot be allowed to claim.

If the world wants real peace, it must demand a deal built on sovereignty, not submission; on equality, not coercion; on justice, not fear. Until then, any document like this belongs where it came from—the scrap pile of failed attempts to dress capitulation as compromise.