Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has now entered its third year. Since the inauguration of the Trump administration in Jan., he has repeatedly declared its intent to “end the war within 24 hours.” Yet the reality of negotiations has revealed the stark dynamics of power politics, where competing national interests collide.

  Currently, President Trump has floated “conditional” security guarantees and even  coupled the ending of the war with the pursuit of American strategic and economic interests. However, clashes on the ground have continued to escalate, and any cease-fire remains deeply uncertain. This underscores a sobering reality: without sufficient self-defense capabilities, weaker states inevitably find their security subject to the calculations of great powers at the negotiating table.

  Ukraine now faces a grim set of choices: accept a cease-fire with partial territorial loss in exchange for security guarantees or prolong a costly war of attrition. However, it risks legitimizing territorial change by force—a dangerous precedent with long-term implications. Yet Ukraine is confronting severe shortages of air defenses, ammunition, and manpower. These battlefield disadvantages are not solely material but also reflect the limits of President Volodymyr Zelensky’s political leadership and state capacity.

  Domestically, Zelensky’s wartime leadership has drawn mixed assessments. While he still commands broad popular support, several shortcomings have fueled criticism of incompetence.

  For example, mobilization and management have been plagued by inconsistency. In the spring of 2024, the government lowered the conscription age from 27 to 25. However, with no clear demobilization or rotation system in place, conscripts have faced the prospect of serving until the war’s end—prompting widespread resentment. The reliance on coercive measures, without achieving broader social consensus, has exposed a lack of political persuasiveness. Moreover, anti-corruption reform has fallen short. Despite Zelensky’s pledges to combat graft, high-profile scandals—including procurement fraud within the Ministry of Defense—have repeatedly surfaced. In Transparency International’s 2024 Corruption Perceptions Index, Ukraine scored only 35 points, ranking 105th of 180 countries. Such indicators highlight the persistence of structural corruption.

  Consequently, Ukraine’s unresolved corruption, fragile domestic cohesion, and weak institutional base all contribute to its inability to exercise autonomous agency in peace negotiations.

  At its core, the crisis underscores a fundamental truth: the extent to which a nation can safeguard its own peace depends on its internal strength. Without sufficient national capacity, the terms of peace will be dictated by others, leaving weaker states with little choice but to accept. An ill-prepared armistice risks planting the seeds of renewed dependency and future instability. The war in Ukraine thus offers a stark reminder: a nation that lacks the means to secure its own future will find itself buffeted by the winds of great-power politics, its fate determined more by external will than by internal resolve.