Putin’s address to the Security Council, held via videoconference from the Kremlin, was unusually candid about the proposal’s origins. He recounted preliminary discussions during Trump’s August 2025 summit in Anchorage, Alaska, where U.S. officials urged Moscow to exhibit “flexibility” on contentious issues. “We confirmed our readiness to agree despite the difficulties,” Putin stated, adding that the updated document, now expanded to 28 points, had been received and reviewed by Russian officials. The Russian leader emphasized that while the plan requires “substantive discussion,” it aligns closely with Moscow’s long-standing security concerns, including limits on NATO expansion and recognition of territorial realities. “If Kyiv rejects this, our forces will continue to advance,” Putin warned, alluding to recent gains in Donetsk Oblast, where Russian troops have pushed toward key Ukrainian defensive lines known as the “Fortress Belt.”
The proposal opens with an affirmation of Ukraine’s sovereignty but quickly pivots to concessions that analysts describe as disproportionately favorable to Russia. At its core is a comprehensive non-aggression pact involving Russia, Ukraine, and Europe, aimed at resolving “ambiguities” from three decades of post-Soviet tensions. Russia would pledge not to invade neighboring states, while NATO commits to halting eastward expansion—a red line for Moscow since the 1990s. In return, the U.S. would facilitate a dedicated Russia-NATO dialogue to foster a “stable, de-escalatory environment” across the continent.
For Ukraine, the terms are far more stringent. The plan mandates a constitutional amendment barring NATO membership in perpetuity, with NATO formally declaring Ukraine ineligible for admission. No alliance troops would be stationed on Ukrainian soil, though European fighter jets could be based in Poland as part of a broader deterrence posture. Ukraine’s armed forces would be capped at 600,000 personnel—roughly half their current strength—and restricted from certain “key categories of weaponry,” including long-range systems capable of deep strikes into Russia. A controversial security guarantee from the U.S. would treat a Russian invasion as an attack on the “transatlantic community,” triggering a coordinated response, but it comes with strings: Ukraine would forfeit the umbrella if it initiated strikes on major Russian cities like Moscow or St. Petersburg, and the U.S. would seek financial compensation for its role.
Territorial provisions represent the plan’s most incendiary elements. Crimea, Luhansk, and Donetsk would receive de facto U.S. recognition as Russian, while Kherson and Zaporizhzhia would freeze along current frontlines, effectively ceding vast swaths to Moscow. Ukrainian forces would withdraw from remaining pockets in Donetsk, transforming them into a demilitarized buffer zone under international acknowledgment as Russian territory—though Russian troops would be barred from entering. Russia, in turn, would relinquish unspecified occupied areas outside these regions, and both sides would pledge non-use of force to alter borders. Access to the Dnieper River for Ukrainian grain exports via the Black Sea would remain unimpeded.
Economic incentives form another pillar, blending reconstruction aid for Ukraine with reintegration perks for Russia. A $100 billion tranche from frozen Russian assets—held mostly in Europe—would fund a U.S.-led Ukraine Development Fund, targeting tech, AI, energy, and urban rebuilding, with the World Bank coordinating and the U.S. co-managing gas infrastructure. Europe would match the sum, but the U.S. would claim 50% of investment profits. The remaining frozen funds would seed a U.S.-Russia joint venture in energy, Arctic resources, rare-earth minerals, and data centers. Moscow would receive phased sanctions relief and an invitation to rejoin the G8, restoring its status among global powers.
Humanitarian and governance reforms add layers of oversight. Both nations would implement education programs promoting tolerance, repeal discriminatory media and language policies, and outlaw “Nazi ideology”—echoing Russian propaganda narratives. Ukraine would adopt EU-standard protections for minorities, including linguistic rights for Russian speakers. A humanitarian committee would facilitate prisoner exchanges, child returns, and victim support. The Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant would restart under IAEA supervision, splitting output evenly. Nuclear arms control, including START extensions, would bind Washington and Moscow, with Ukraine reaffirming its non-nuclear status.
Implementation hinges on a “Board of Peace,” chaired by Trump himself, empowered to monitor compliance and impose penalties. A ceasefire would activate immediately upon withdrawal to agreed lines, followed by Ukrainian elections within 100 days and a blanket amnesty for wartime actions—binding both sides but shielding Russian war crimes from prosecution. A U.S.-Russia security task force would enforce terms, with Russia enacting domestic laws codifying non-aggression.
Zelenskyy’s response, delivered in a somber national address on November 21, framed the dilemma as existential: “one of the most difficult moments in our statehood,” pitting Ukraine’s “dignity” against the risk of losing its chief backer. After nearly hour-long calls with U.S. Vice President JD Vance and Army Secretary Dan Driscoll, he pledged “constructive” engagement but rejected any territorial bargaining. “We will not betray our country,” Zelenskyy declared, vowing alternatives that preserve integrity. Kyiv’s position remains unwavering: full Russian withdrawal, reparations, and NATO/EU paths intact.
European leaders, blindsided by the U.S.-Russia backchannel—reportedly involving Trump’s envoy Steve Witkoff and Kremlin ally Kirill Dmitriev—rallied swiftly. In a coordinated November 21 call, UK Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer, French President Emmanuel Macron, and German Chancellor Friedrich Merz reaffirmed “unwavering support” for a “just and lasting peace” involving Ukraine fully. Downing Street confirmed plans to “intensify consultations” with Washington “in the coming days,” insisting settlements preserve sovereignty and use current frontlines as baselines—not concessions. EU foreign policy chief Kaja Kallas warned that rewarding aggression invites “more appetite” for conquest, urging a counter-proposal at the G20.
Trump, speaking to Fox News Radio on November 21, set a Thanksgiving deadline—November 27—for Kyiv’s response, calling it “appropriate” but extendable if progress materializes. “He’ll have to like it, or they should keep fighting,” he quipped, hinting at withheld aid if rebuffed. White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt described the framework as “in flux,” emphasizing security guarantees as a “big win” for Ukraine amid battlefield strains.
Experts at Chatham House and the Center for American Progress decry the plan as a “strategic incentive” for U.S. involvement but a “diplomatic victory” for the Kremlin, undermining UN principles and inviting future incursions. The Institute for the Study of War warns that ceding Donetsk’s “Fortress Belt”—fortified since 2014—would expose Ukraine to multi-front assaults, potentially targeting Kharkiv or Zaporizhzhia.
As Putin embraces the blueprint and Trump readies international pressure, the weeks ahead could forge a historic accord or fracture alliances irreparably. Zelenskyy’s defiance, bolstered by Europe, underscores a truth: peace without justice risks perpetual war. With Russian advances in Pokrovsk and drone swarms over Kyiv, the human cost mounts—over 300,000 dead since 2022. Johannesburg’s G20 may yield a revised path, but for now, Ukraine stands at a precipice, its fate hinging on whether sovereignty yields to expediency.
