Follow us on social

Donald Trump Vladimir Putin

Why is Putin OK with Ukraine joining the EU?

While the accession process would be arduous, there's a certain pragmatism in Russia's acquiescence

Analysis | Europe

Lost amid the focus on summit pageantry, land swaps, and security guarantees last week was an issue even more central to a diplomatic resolution of the Ukraine war: whether Russian President Vladimir Putin is ready to accept Ukraine’s membership in the EU as part of a settlement deal.

That concession was an important element of a peace deal that Russian and Ukrainian negotiators drafted under Turkish mediation in 2022, which Ukraine subsequently abandoned.

Since then, some Russian officials have opposed such membership, but the Kremlin’s spokesman indicated earlier this year that Russia would not object, in sharp contrast to its adamant opposition to Ukraine’s NATO membership. Then, during his White House meeting with President Volodymyr Zelensky and European leaders, President Donald Trump made two phone calls, first to Putin, and then to Prime Minister Viktor Orban to urge Hungary to ease its opposition to Ukraine’s EU accession process. The timing raises the question of whether the two calls were related.

Why might Putin make such a concession — which would leave Ukraine militarily neutral, but anchored politically and economically in Europe, like Austria and Ireland — if Russian forces are increasingly advancing on the battlefield, and Putin insists Ukraine must be returned to Russia’s exclusive sphere of influence, as many allege?

One possibility, of course, is that Russia doubts Ukraine will make it through the tortuous accession process successfully. Hungary is far from alone in voicing concerns about Ukraine’s membership, as both Poland and France worry about the impact of Ukrainian agricultural production on their farming sectors, and others fret that Ukraine would be an expensive and corrupt drain on European coffers.

But while Russian skepticism might be justified, it is not the same thing as certainty that EU members will close the door on Kyiv. Putin must have anticipated that the U.S. would almost immediately begin pressing its European partners to hasten the accession process. Feigning acceptance of Ukrainian membership would be a high-stakes risk that could easily backfire on Moscow.

A more likely factor is simple pragmatism. The Russian military has already shown that it cannot conquer all of Ukraine. Its initial bid to seize Kyiv through a quick assault on the Antonov airport fell prey to advance U.S. intelligence warnings and Ukraine’s brave and determined resistance. As a result, Russia’s under-manned and under-supplied invasion force had to retreat, regroup, and refocus its efforts on Ukraine’s east and south. And even if Russia were capable of conquering all of Ukraine — the largest national territory entirely in Europe — it would have little hope of governing it, as it would almost certainly face active Ukrainian guerrilla attacks and require an occupation force several times the size of the current Russian military.

Furthermore, even if Russia could somehow manage to conquer, occupy, and govern Ukraine’s vast expanse, it would still have to contend with a NATO alliance that has doubled in size since the end of the Cold War, and whose European members are revitalizing their withered military industries and pledging to build up their combat capabilities for the first time in decades. For its part, the United States has announced plans to put intermediate-range, nuclear-capable missiles in Germany for the first time since Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev signed the INF Treaty banning them in 1987 — missiles that could reach strategic targets in minutes with a high probability of overcoming Russian missile defenses.

Conquering Ukrainian territory would not solve these broader security problems for Russia. In fact, it would almost certainly deepen NATO’s hostility and resolve, forcing Russia either to put its economy on an expensive, near-permanent war footing or rely increasingly on more cost-effective (albeit more destabilizing) theater nuclear weapons to counter NATO.

In either case, Russia would find itself even more dependent on China for trade, technology, and diplomatic support — hardly the mark of a great power that Russia’s elites believe it is and must be.

Putin probably recognizes that a willingness to live with Ukraine’s potential membership in the EU is a necessary price for avoiding such a scenario and gaining terms in a Ukrainian peace deal that he regards as essential to Russian security. The first and most important is to get the United States to close the door on Ukraine’s joining NATO or otherwise hosting NATO-member combat forces on its territory — demands that Russian officials have voiced for several decades and were among the key factors motivating the Russian invasion.

The second is to revive negotiations over European security and nuclear arms control that could minimize threats to Russia, but which are either dead or on life-support.

These would be small prices for the United States to pay for anchoring Ukraine in Europe politically and economically. Because every American president since George W. Bush has shown that he will not commit U.S. troops to fight Russia in defense of Ukraine and Georgia, a formal commitment to end NATO’s eastward expansion would be less a concession to Russia than an acknowledgment of an existing reality. Entering arms control talks with Russia, putting Europe on a path toward stability, and reducing Moscow’s dependence on China would enhance, not diminish, America’s own security.

Even if the accession process proves bumpy, it could promote Ukraine’s sovereignty, prosperity, and societal healing, which will be critical to its future self-defense capabilities. Optimism about Ukraine’s future could encourage substantial numbers of the millions of refugees that fled the war to return home and arrest Ukraine’s demographic collapse. The requirements of membership would allow Ukraine to advance reforms protecting Russian-speaking minorities and minimizing political extremism without appearing to capitulate to Moscow’s demands.

Most important, given the near impossibility of NATO membership, the prospect of EU accession — a desire that underpinned Ukraine’s Maidan revolution in 2014 — might be the best hope for persuading Ukraine’s citizens that a compromise peace settlement is worth the blood they have sacrificed over the past three years.

Swapping Ukraine’s military neutrality for the prospect of EU membership would not by itself suffice to end this tragic war. But it is a compromise that Trump, Europe, and Ukraine should embrace.


Top image credit: President Donald Trump and Russian president Vladimir Putin speak backstage before they participate in a joint press conference after their meeting at the Arctic Warrior Event Center at Joint Base Elmendorf Richardson in Anchorage, Alaska, Friday, August 15, 2025. (Official White House Photo by Daniel Torok)
Analysis | Europe
Pedro Sanchez
Top image credit: Prime Minister of Spain Pedro Sanchez during the summit of Heads of State and Government of the European Union at the European Council in Brussels in Belgium the 26th of July 2025, Martin Bertrand / Hans Lucas via Reuters Connect

Spain's break from Europe on Gaza is more reaction than vision

Europe

The final stage of the Vuelta a España, Spain’s premier cycling race, was abandoned in chaos on Sunday. Pro-Palestinian protesters, chanting “they will not pass,” overturned barriers and occupied the route in Madrid, forcing organizers to cancel the finale and its podium ceremony. The demonstrators’ target was the participation of an Israeli team. In a statement that captured the moment, Spain’s Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez expressed his “deep admiration for the Spanish people mobilizing for just causes like Palestine.”

The event was a vivid public manifestation of a potent political sentiment in Spain — one that the Sánchez government has both responded to and, through its foreign policy, legitimized. This dynamic has propelled Spain into becoming the European Union’s most vocal dissenting voice on the war in Gaza, marking a significant break from the transatlantic foreign policy orthodoxy.

Sanchez’s support for the protesters was not merely rhetorical. On Monday, he escalated his stance, explicitly calling for Israel to be barred from international sports competitions, drawing a direct parallel to the exclusion of Russia over its invasion of Ukraine. “Our position is clear and categorical: as long as the barbarity continues, neither Russia nor Israel should participate in any international competition,” he said. This position, which angered Israel and Spanish conservatives alike, was further amplified by his culture minister, who suggested Spain should boycott next year’s Eurovision Song Contest if Israel participates.

More significantly, it emerged that his government had backed its strong words with concrete action, cancelling a €700 million ($825 million) contract for Israeli-designed rocket launchers. This move, following an earlier announcement of measures aimed at stopping what it called “the genocide in Gaza,” demonstrates a willingness to leverage economic and diplomatic tools that other EU capitals have avoided.

Sánchez, a master political survivalist, has not undergone a grand ideological conversion to anti-interventionism. Instead, he has proven highly adept at reading and navigating domestic political currents. His government’s stance on Israel and Palestine is a pragmatic reflection of his coalition that depends on the support of the left for which this is a non-negotiable priority.

This instinct for pragmatic divergence extends beyond Gaza. Sánchez has flatly refused to commit to NATO’s target of spending 5% of GDP on defense demanded by the U.S. President Donald Trump and embraced by NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte, citing budgetary constraints and social priorities.

Furthermore, Spain has courted a role as a facilitator between great powers. This ambition was realized when Madrid hosted a critical high level meeting between U.S. and Chinese trade officials on September 15 — a meeting Trump lauded as successful while reaffirming “a very strong relationship” between the U.S. and China. This outreach is part of a consistent policy; Sánchez’s own visit to Beijing, at a time when other EU leaders like the high representative for foreign policy Kaja Kallas were ratcheting up anti-Chinese rhetoric, signals a deliberate pursuit of pragmatic economic ties over ideological confrontation.

Yet, for all these breaks with the mainstream, Sánchez’s foreign policy is riddled with a fundamental contradiction. On Ukraine, his government remains in alignment with the hardline Brussels consensus. This alignment is most clearly embodied by his proxy in Brussels, Iratxe García Pérez, the leader of the Socialists and Democrats (S&D) group in the European Parliament. In a stark display of this hawkishness, García Pérez used the platform of the State of the Union debate with the EU Commission President Ursula von der Leyen to champion the demand to outright seize frozen Russian sovereign assets.

This reckless stance, which reflects the EU’s broader hawkish drift on Ukraine, is thankfully tempered only by a lack of power to implement it, rendering it largely a symbolic act of virtue signaling. The move is not just of dubious legality; it is a significant error in statecraft. It would destroy international trust in the Eurozone as a safe repository for assets. Most critically, it would vaporize a key bargaining chip that could be essential in securing a future negotiated settlement with Russia. It is a case of ideological posturing overriding strategic calculation.

This contradiction reveals the core of Sánchez’s doctrine: it is circumstantial, not convictional. His breaks with orthodoxy on Israel, defense spending and China are significant, but driven, to a large degree, by the necessity of domestic coalition management. His alignment on Ukraine is the path of least resistance within the EU mainstream, requiring no difficult choices that would upset his centrist instincts or his international standing.

Therefore, Sánchez is no Spanish De Gaulle articulating a grand sovereigntist strategic vision. He is a fascinating case study in the fragmentation of European foreign policy. He demonstrates that even within the heart of the Western mainstream which he represents, dissent on specific issues like Gaza and rearmament is not only possible but increasingly politically necessary.

However, his failure to apply the same pragmatic, national interest lens to Ukraine — opting instead for the bloc’s thoughtless escalation — proves that his policy is more a product of domestic political arithmetic than coherent strategic vision. He is a weathervane, not a compass — but even a weathervane can indicate a shift in the wind, and the wind in Spain is blowing away from unconditional Atlanticism.

US think tanks are the world's least transparent
Top image credit: Metamorworks via shutterstock.com

US think tanks are the world's least transparent

Washington Politics

According to a new survey, North American think tanks are tied as the least transparent of any region. The poll, conducted by On Think Tanks, surveyed 335 think tanks from over 100 countries. The accompanying report, released today, found that only 35% of North American think tanks (mostly from the U.S.) that responded to the survey disclose funding sources. By comparison, 67% of Asian think tanks and 58% of African think tanks disclose their funding sources.

And there are signs that think tank funding transparency is trending towards more opacity. Just last month, the Center for American Progress — a major center-left think tank with $46 million in annual revenue — announced that it would no longer disclose its donors. The think tank said it was taking this “temporary protective step” out of concern that the Trump administration could target them.

keep readingShow less
Fort Bragg horrors expose dark underbelly of post-9/11 warfare
Top photo credit: Seth Harp book jacket (Viking press) US special operators/deviant art/creative commons

Fort Bragg horrors expose dark underbelly of post-9/11 warfare

Media

In 2020 and 2021, 109 U.S. soldiers died at Fort Bragg, the largest military base in the country and the central location for the key Special Operations Units in the American military.

Only four of them were on overseas deployments. The others died stateside, mostly of drug overdoses, violence, or suicide. The situation has hardly improved. It was recently revealed that another 51 soldiers died at Fort Bragg in 2023. According to U.S. government data, these represent more military fatalities than have occurred at the hands of enemy forces in any year since 2013.

keep readingShow less

LATEST

QIOSK

Newsletter

Subscribe now to our weekly round-up and don't miss a beat with your favorite RS contributors and reporters, as well as staff analysis, opinion, and news promoting a positive, non-partisan vision of U.S. foreign policy.