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The Peace That Could Have Been—And the War That Was Forced to Continue



Back in April 2022, Russia and Ukraine were on the verge of ending the war. The Istanbul negotiations, brokered by Turkey, had produced a draft peace agreement that could have stopped the destruction, saved tens of thousands of lives, and prevented Ukraine from becoming the ruin it is today. The deal was simple: Ukraine would commit to neutrality—no NATO, no military alliances—in exchange for security guarantees from a list of major world powers. Russia, in turn, would not oppose Ukraine’s entry into the European Union. There were provisions for handling Crimea and the Donbas, and both sides seemed willing to settle.

Then, just as peace seemed within reach, the United States and Britain intervened. Instead of supporting an agreement that would have spared Ukraine from years of slaughter, Western leaders pressured Zelensky to reject the deal. The war had to continue—not because Ukraine had a real chance of victory, but because Washington and London needed it to.

The result? Over two years of pointless bloodshed and a depopulated nation. Ukraine has lost hundreds of thousands of men, its infrastructure is in ruins, and its best hope now is to become a Western debt colony, permanently shackled to loans from the IMF. The media, of course, will never admit that this war could have ended long ago. Instead, we are still being fed the same old propaganda:

And now, after two years of disaster, the same people who forced Ukraine to keep fighting are suddenly talking about peace again. But this time, Ukraine has no leverage left. The US is holding “high-level meetings” in Saudi Arabia to discuss a potential ceasefire, while Zelensky, once the West’s favourite puppet, is suddenly finding himself sidelined. He now says he is “ready” for peace talks, but unlike in 2022, he is no longer in a position to negotiate anything meaningful.

The West doesn’t need him any more. His replacement is already being chosen.

At the same time, we have Europe’s leaders scrambling to appear relevant, announcing yet another “historic” defence initiative—this time, a fictional €800 billion rearmament plan. The idea is to make it look like Europe is preparing to “stand up to Russia” while, in reality, all they’re doing is feeding the arms industry more public money. Even The Guardian, while celebrating this “watershed moment,” quietly admits that this money doesn’t actually exist. It’s all “highly theoretical,” which is bureaucratic code for “not happening.”

Meanwhile, Donald Trump, ever the opportunist, is stepping in to clean up the mess. He has no interest in Ukraine—never did—but he sees an opportunity to make a deal. His goal? Secure a minerals deal for American companies, take credit for “ending the war,” and shake down Europe for protection money. And Europe will pay, because that’s what it does. The EU, of course, is trying to angle for a slice of the pie, but they won’t get one. The spoils belong to Russia and the United States.

So, here we are. The war that could have ended in 2022 is finally winding down, but only after Ukraine has been utterly broken, its young men slaughtered and its cities reduced to rubble—all for the sake of prolonging a conflict that the West never intended to win. The media will soon pivot to a new story, trying to rewrite history, framing whatever surrender comes next as a “brave and principled settlement.” The politicians who pushed this war will never face consequences, and the arms manufacturers who profited from it will already be looking for their next battlefield.

But for Ukraine, there is no recovery. The war was never about democracy, never about sovereignty. It was about using Ukraine as a weapon against Russia. And when weapons break, they are tossed aside.

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