US proposal for Ukraine peace: Diplomacy rarely unfolds on a single track. Even as President Donald Trump touts his “final offer” to end the war in Ukraine—a proposal critics say would legitimise Moscow’s aggression—Kyiv and Washington have inked a landmark agreement that tells a very different story. Signed in Washington on April 30, the United States-Ukraine Reconstruction Investment Fund gives the US preferred access to new licences for 55 critical minerals, from lithium to rare-earth elements, while guaranteeing that Ukraine retains outright ownership and an equal vote in how the fund is managed.
At the same time, Trump’s own special envoy, retired General Keith Kellogg, claimed on Fox News that Ukrainian officials are prepared—“de facto, not de jure”—to live with Russia’s occupation of roughly one-fifth of their territory. The juxtaposition is striking: Kyiv is working to lock in long-term US backing even as the White House signals a willingness to freeze today’s front lines into tomorrow’s borders.
Let us be clear: the US proposal for Ukraine peace, hastily drafted and ill-conceived, is weighted heavily in favour of Russia. It demands that Ukraine surrender not only territory but its sovereignty and dignity. Trump’s plan would freeze the current battle lines, prohibit Ukraine from joining NATO, lift sanctions on Russia imposed after the 2014 annexation of Crimea, and—most outrageously—grant formal diplomatic recognition to Russia’s control over Crimea. Unsurprisingly, Ukraine and America’s European allies are sceptical about this proposal.
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A win-win for Russia
The gravity of this proposed recognition cannot be overstated. Since 1940, the United States has adhered to the principle that territorial changes achieved by force are illegitimate. The Welles Declaration, issued in response to Soviet annexations in the Baltics, laid down this cardinal rule: aggression must not be rewarded. Every American president, Republican and Democrat alike, has honoured this doctrine. In 2018, Secretary of State Mike Pompeo reaffirmed this stance, declaring that the United States would refuse to recognise the Kremlin’s claims over Crimea. Trump’s plan would shatter this bipartisan tradition for the sake of a dubious peace.
Is this a peace worth having? The answer must be a resounding no. Recognising Crimea as Russian territory would not merely sacrifice Ukraine’s sovereignty; it would signal to every would-be aggressor that military conquest will be tolerated, even legitimised. As former Estonian President Toomas Hendrik Ilves warned, it would send a chilling message to the world: invade a neighbour, hold territory long enough, and you will be rewarded.
Trump’s defenders might argue that hard realities require painful compromises. They would point to the facts on the ground — that Russia occupies roughly 18% of Ukraine’s territory and that the prospects of Ukrainian military reconquest are slim. They would claim that formalising Russia’s gains would end a bloody war that has cost hundreds of thousands of lives. But this facile pragmatism is deeply short-sighted.
History teaches us that unjust settlements do not last. The Treaty of Versailles, imposed on Germany after World War I, sowed the seeds of World War II. Agreements rooted in injustice breed resentment, foster revanchism, and undermine any hope of durable peace. Ukraine’s own peace plan — calling for a ceasefire first, with negotiations on territory to follow — is a sober and lawful approach. It acknowledges that peace must be based on international law, not capitulation.
Trump’s offer ignores these lessons. Worse, it mistakes a temporary cessation of hostilities for a just and lasting settlement. As Ukrainian officials have rightly pointed out, without firm security guarantees — such as NATO membership — Russia will use any ceasefire to rearm, regroup, and attack again when the opportunity arises. A frozen conflict under Russian terms would be no peace at all, merely a lull before renewed violence.
Ukraine peace deal without securing the future
It is no wonder that President Volodymyr Zelensky and Ukraine’s Parliament have rejected the idea outright. Recognising Crimea’s annexation would be political suicide for any Ukrainian leader. It would betray the millions of Ukrainians displaced by Russian aggression and abandon the Crimean Tatars — an indigenous people subjected to systematic persecution under Russian rule. It would also violate Ukraine’s Constitution, which rightly enshrines territorial integrity as non-negotiable.
European allies, too, have recoiled from Trump’s proposal. The European Union’s top diplomat, Kaja Kallas, reaffirmed that the bloc opposes any recognition of Russia’s seizure of Crimea. Turkey, mindful of the Tatar minority’s plight and of its own strategic interests, has voiced similar objections. The principle that borders must not be changed by force is one of the few solid pillars upon which the postwar European order rests. To abandon it now would be to invite chaos.
Trump’s motivations, meanwhile, seem depressingly clear. His impatience with diplomacy, his longstanding admiration for strongmen — all these factors have likely played a role. More fundamentally, Trump appears to embrace the cynical notion that might makes right. His remarks to Time magazine — suggesting that Crimea has “been with Russia for a long time” and that the matter should be closed — reveal a profound disregard for history, legality, and morality.
A new resource bargain
The minerals accord offers a glimpse of what a constructive US–Ukraine partnership can look like—and why Kyiv is reluctant to swap its freedom of manoeuvre for a quick cease-fire. Under the deal, profits from any new extraction projects will flow 50-50 into the fund for at least 10 years; neither side can siphon cash until then. The US contribution will come largely in the form of capital equipment and continued military aid, including additional air-defence systems. Ukrainian officials stress that the pact creates no new debt obligations and keeps the state in full control over what, where and how to mine.
Critics worry that tying battlefield support to sub-soil riches risks turning Ukraine into a “resources-for-security” client state. Supporters counter that the fund is a pragmatic hedge: it both entices American investors to finance reconstruction and helps Washington diversify away from China, the world’s dominant supplier of rare-earths. Either way, the agreement reveals a blunt reality—Ukraine’s long-term viability depends on binding the West to its economic future, not merely its wartime survival.
The global cost of an unjust deal
The stakes are higher than Ukraine alone. Should the United States endorse Russia’s conquest, it would find itself aligned with a rogues’ gallery of nations — North Korea, Syria, Venezuela — who have recognised the annexation. Worse, it would embolden authoritarian regimes worldwide to launch their own territorial adventures, calculating that the world’s most powerful democracy has abdicated its moral leadership.
Even from a cold-eyed, strategic perspective, Trump’s offer is disastrous. Ukraine is a crucial bulwark against Russian revanchism. Weakening Ukraine now would not bring stability to Europe; it would invite further Russian aggression against Moldova, Georgia, and even NATO members in the Baltics. The cost of defending these nations later would far exceed the cost of supporting Ukraine today.
The world must not repeat the errors of Munich in 1938, when appeasement emboldened Nazi Germany and led directly to global conflagration. Nor should it forget the lesson of the Baltic States — occupied for half a century, but ultimately liberated, in part because the United States and its allies refused to legitimise Soviet conquest.
Trump may be in haste to secure a personal diplomatic trophy; Kellogg’s remarks suggest his circle is already counting on Ukrainian acquiescence to a land-for-peace bargain. The newly minted minerals deal proves that Ukraine still has assets the democratic world values—strategic resources, a resilient civil society, and a moral claim to self-determination. Squandering those assets by ratifying aggression would not inaugurate peace; it would cement a precedent that conquest pays, all while mortgaging Ukraine’s economic future to external patrons.
True peace is built not on surrender, nor on resource bartering, but on justice backed by enforceable security guarantees. Ukraine deserves better. Europe deserves better. The world deserves better, and it must say so—before the cost of silence is measured not in contracts and concessions but in yet another shattered international order.