PEACE is not the absence of conflict, but the ability to cope with it by peaceful means, wrote Ronald Reagan.
As the Ukraine crisis enters into its fourth year, another moment of poten-tial diplomacy has emerged—not for the first time, but as a renewed attempt to find footing amid a long and costly impasse.
The second direct talks between Russian President Vladimir Putin and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, reportedly taking place in Türkiye, come against a backdrop markedly different from that of 2022 when Antalya and Istanbul first hosted high-level engagement.
That early initiative, driven by Turkiye’s assertive mediation under President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, had shown surprising promise.
On March 10, 2022, Russian and Ukrainian foreign ministers met in Antalya and by March 29, Istanbul hosted a draft agreement suggesting Ukrainian neutrality, withdrawal of NATO ambitions and reciprocal security guarantees.
In turn, Russia signaled a potential military pullback.
The framework, though imperfect, was a rare moment of convergence.
But the diplomatic window closed just as abruptly.
According to informed diplomatic accounts, then-British Prime Minister Boris Johnson, during a sur-prise April visit to Kyiv, discouraged Ukraine from pursuing any settlement that might be perceived as conceding to Moscow’s terms.
This reinforced a growing view in some Western capitals that prolonging the conflict could better serve strategic containment.
Zelenskyy has publicly dismissed such claims as unfounded, but the fallout from the Istanbul process con-tinues to cast a shadow on today’s efforts.
Fast forward to 2025, the geopolitical terrain has shifted.
Ukraine, once bolstered by robust military and financial aid from the United States and its European allies, now finds itself con-fronting a different reality.
The West is grappling with inflationary pressures, economic fa-tigue and shifting political winds.
The rise of Donald Trump—and his return to political prominence—has had a decisive impact.
His public opposition to open-ended military aid to Kyiv, citing fiscal restraint and domestic priorities, has effectively dried up the once-dependable flow of Western arms.
This recalibration has not only left Ukraine more vulnerable on the battlefield, where Russia now holds roughly one-fifth of its territory, but also politically exposed.
Zelenskyy is con-tending with growing internal dissent and the prolonged suspension of national elections.
These domestic strains, coupled with diminished Western backing, have emboldened Mos-cow’s position.
Putin has thus far refused to recognize Zelenskyy as a legitimate negotiating partner—both as a strategic move and a statement of disapproval regarding Ukraine’s po-litical process.
This recent direct negotiation in Türkiye carries a distinctly altered tone.
Gone is the early urgency; in its place is a sobering realism.
Erdoğan’s government remains committed to fa-cilitating dialogue.
Despite internal challenges and complex regional balancing acts, Turkey has retained open channels with both Moscow and Kyiv.
This dual credibility—rare in to-day’s fractured diplomatic landscape—positions Ankara as a crucial enabler of engagement, not merely a host.
Erdoğan has labelled the moment a “turning point,” urging the international community to view diplomacy not as an admission of defeat but as a necessary instrument of statecraft.
China has also expressed support for this significant development in resolving the Ukraine crisis.
Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesperson Lin Jian stated, “We welcome all efforts aimed at achieving peace and hope that all interested parties will continue to engage in dialogue and negotiations with the aim of concluding a fair, lasting, binding and acceptable to all par-ties peace agreement, which will ultimately lead to a political settlement of the Ukrainian crisis.
” This endorsement underscores Beijing’s commitment to facilitating a diplomatic resolution to the conflict.
For Russia, peace must resolve not just the territorial question, but its grievances about NATO’s eastward drift and the post-Cold War security order.
The 2022 Istanbul framework reportedly acknowledged some of these themes.
A revived version may still include Ukrain-ian neutrality, demilitarized zones and an international consortium to monitor post-war sta-bility—concepts unacceptable in 2022, but now viewed through the lens of exhaustion.
The challenge, however, is no longer just geopolitics.
It’s the collapse of viable alternatives.
Ukraine cannot reclaim its territory without an unprecedented military reversal or renewed Western surge—both unlikely under current conditions.
On the other hand, Russia has sig-naled a growing interest in prioritizing domestic economic development and broader geopolitical objectives over the continuation of a prolonged conflict.
The West is getting a clear signal from Trump, a clear shift: no blank checks, no open-ended commitments to Ukraine.
In this context, Erdoğan’s initiative and Putin’s willingness to engage in Türkiye talks are not just diplomatic flourishes—they’re signs that the centre of gravity is shifting away from grand alliances and toward pragmatic power politics.
These second direct talks are different in kind, not just in sequence.
They are not about idealism—they are about reaching the limits of endurance.
Peace, if it emerges, will not arrive draped in applause.
It will look like compromise, feel like loss and sound like retreat.
But in the echo chamber of war, even a reluctant handshake is a strategic victory over stalemate.
—The writer is PhD Scholar International Relations, based in Islamabad.([email protected])
