The letter from Volodymyr Zelenskyy to Vladimir Putin is, first and foremost, a high-risk political move. It is not merely an invitation to dialogue. It is an attempt to place the burden of refusal back on Moscow. The Ukrainian president proposes a direct meeting with the Russian leader on neutral ground—Switzerland, Turkey, or countries in the Arab world—and states that Kyiv is ready for a full ceasefire for the duration of negotiations. At the same time, he puts forward a proposal for an “all-for-all” prisoner exchange and the return of civilians and children transferred from Russia.

However, the letter has a second layer. Zelenskyy is not addressing only Putin. He is also addressing Russian society, Russian officials, business leaders, and the power structures that see the war dragging on without a clear end. He argues that Russians are growing weary of Ukrainian strikes, fuel shortages, inflation, and restrictions. In other words, he is sending a message of attrition: the war is not only pressuring Ukraine—it is also straining Russia’s internal system.

The most important phrase in the letter concerns Anchorage. Zelenskyy writes that “Ukrainian and European issues are not resolved in Anchorage.” This is a direct response to the logic that emerged after the meeting between Donald Trump and Putin on August 15, 2025, in Alaska. At that time, Trump described the meeting as “very productive” and spoke of progress, but without any agreement. Reuters reported that no ceasefire was achieved, while Trump himself summarized the outcome with the phrase: “There is no deal until there is a deal.”

The problem is that nearly ten months have passed since then, and the “progress” from Anchorage has not translated into actual peace. On the contrary, Russia’s position appears to have hardened. According to Reuters, Putin recently stated that Trump’s proposals could end the war, but only if Ukraine accepts “compromises.” As reflected in Russia’s stance, these compromises continue to revolve around the demand that Ukraine surrender the remainder of the Donbas region—something Kyiv views as tantamount to capitulation.

This is the core of the deadlock. Putin appears willing to negotiate, but not to revise his ultimate objective. He says he is ready for peace, while simultaneously insisting that Russia will prevail on the battlefield if necessary. He refers to the “understandings” reached with Trump in Alaska, claims that Russia accepts them, and calls on Ukraine to do the same. In other words, he presents peace not as a mutual process but as the ratification of a framework discussed without Ukraine at the table.

The situation on the battlefield does not allow for easy conclusions. Russia says it fully controls Luhansk Oblast and more than 85% of Donetsk Oblast. At the same time, international analyses suggest that Russia’s advance has slowed and that Moscow is increasingly relying on air and missile warfare, striking Ukrainian cities to compensate for difficulties on the ground. Reuters and The Guardian, citing analysts and frontline data, describe a Russia that is exerting heavy pressure but has not achieved a decisive breakthrough.

This is the paradox of the current moment. Russia does not appear strong enough to impose a quick final victory, yet neither is it pressured enough to abandon its maximalist goals. Ukraine cannot immediately expel Russia from all occupied territories, but it has demonstrated that it can hold the line, strike deep into Russian territory, and raise the cost of the war. This creates conditions not for peace, but for prolonged attrition.

Zelenskyy’s reference to the United States’ focus on Iran is also significant. The Ukrainian president implicitly acknowledges that Washington no longer has Ukraine at the absolute center of its attention. American diplomacy is heavily occupied with the Middle East, Iran, the Persian Gulf, and several ongoing crises. This means Kyiv fears that time may be working against it—not necessarily militarily, but diplomatically.

Moscow, by contrast, is trying to exploit exactly this gap. Putin wants to revive the “spirit of Alaska”: a great-power negotiation in which Ukraine is expected to accept what has already been discussed between Trump and Putin. Reuters reported after the Anchorage meeting that the Russian proposal involved freezing much of the front line in exchange for Ukraine ceding the remainder of Donetsk. That formula remains the main obstacle blocking progress.

For this reason, Zelenskyy’s letter is more of a diplomatic counteroffensive than an immediate prelude to peace. Zelenskyy is essentially saying: let us meet, let the weapons fall silent while we talk, let diplomacy begin from the realities of the battlefield. Putin’s response is effectively: we can talk, but Ukraine must first accept the compromises associated with Alaska. These two positions do not yet converge. One starts with a ceasefire and negotiations; the other starts with accepting conditions before any agreement.

So how likely is peace today?

If we are talking about a comprehensive and sustainable peace agreement—with security guarantees, a territorial settlement, prisoner exchanges, the return of children, and mechanisms to prevent renewed conflict—the answer is: probably unlikely. The obstacle is not merely political will. There is no shared starting point. Ukraine wants negotiations based on the current line of contact. Russia wants the current line to serve merely as an intermediate step toward securing larger gains.

If, however, we are talking about a temporary ceasefire, a meeting in a neutral country, or a new framework for talks involving the United States, Europe, and possibly Turkey or Gulf states, then the chances are real. Not because the two sides have moved closer strategically, but because both need a way to manage time politically. Ukraine wants to show that it is not the obstacle to peace. Russia wants to demonstrate to Trump that it remains open to a deal—but on its own terms.

The most likely scenario, therefore, is not peace. It is a period of intense diplomatic activity, with public proposals, counterproposals, possible technical contacts, and continued military strikes. Peace will become more likely only if one of three factors changes: the balance on the battlefield, U.S. pressure on Moscow, or the domestic cost of the war inside Russia. At present, none of these has yet reached a breaking point.

In other words, Zelenskyy’s letter is important. But it is not yet a herald of peace. It is Kyiv’s first major attempt to break what it sees as the diplomatic trap of Anchorage—to transform a Trump–Putin discussion about Ukraine into a Ukraine–Russia discussion, with guarantors rather than arbiters. Whether it succeeds will depend less on the wording of the letter and more on whether Putin comes to feel that time is no longer working exclusively in Russia’s favor. Until then, peace remains a possibility—not a prospect ready for signature.