Donald Trump’s victory in the U.S. presidential election has set the stage for a massive shock in Europe. On the campaign trail, Trump promised to move quickly toward cease-fire talks in Ukraine and to negotiate a peace deal with Russia, the aggressor in the conflict. Should his administration follow through on those pledges, the outcome will have sweeping ramifications, not just for Ukraine but for European security more broadly. Europeans—including Ukrainians—cannot be left out of the discussions that will determine their future. Resolute European countries must now come together to form a coalition, claim a seat at the table, and make their conditions heard, loud and clear.

To start, the European coalition must insist that the inclusion of credible and effective security guarantees to Ukraine is a nonnegotiable precondition to any serious talks. And Europe must be prepared to provide these guarantees itself, deploying troops to Ukrainian territory to serve as a deterrent to a future large-scale Russian offensive. Without an ironclad assurance that Ukraine will remain protected, the cure of a cease-fire may prove much worse than the disease of war—and an inadequate settlement may well doom not just Ukraine but the continent as a whole.

WINDOW OF OPPORTUNITY

The war has not been going well for Ukraine. After its failed offensive in the summer of 2023, Kyiv tried a surprise incursion into the Kursk region of Russia in August 2024, but it has not been able to tip the tactical balance in its favor on the frontlines. Instead, it faces ever-greater problems. Since last summer, Moscow has activated more troops from its national guard and reserves, and just weeks ago, it brought in thousands of North Korean “special forces,” on loan from the regime in Pyongyang. Russian forces have made incremental gains on the war’s main front, especially in the Donetsk region, where they enjoy quantitative advantages in equipment, ammunition, and troop strength. Ukraine’s shortage of air defense systems allows Russian manned and unmanned aircraft to conduct reconnaissance and to take out any high-value Ukrainian targets that are within shooting range, impeding the force concentration necessary for offensive action.

The situation is no better away from the frontlines. As winter sets in, Russia’s sustained campaign against Ukraine’s energy infrastructure, which began in earnest last March, will likely take a heavy toll. Millions of Ukrainians could find themselves deprived of heat, electricity, and water, driving a new wave of refugees to flee across the country and across Europe. Ukrainian society has been remarkably resilient since the war began in 2014—and especially after the conflict escalated with Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022—but it is now showing signs of strain. And after Kyiv’s mobilization efforts last spring, which alleviated but failed to solve the problem of Ukraine’s depleted fighting force, the military equation is looking increasingly dire.

Russia has also galvanized support among countries that President Vladimir Putin describes as the “global majority,” many of which attended the BRICS summit in Kazan in October. (Russia was a founding member of BRICS, along with Brazil, India, China, and South Africa.) Although the leaders of other BRICS countries were more hesitant than Moscow to move away from Western-backed financial institutions or to advance an explicitly anti-Western agenda, the summit illustrated Russia’s success in avoiding diplomatic isolation despite its clear violations of international law in Ukraine.

The imposition early next year of a Trump-led settlement in Ukraine, then, would be especially ill timed. It would force Ukraine to negotiate from a position of military weakness. And the outlines of a potential deal sketched by JD Vance, the vice-president-elect, and others in Trump’s orbit during the presidential campaign suggest that it would not be decided in Ukraine’s favor. Common proposals include a military freeze along current frontlines and terms for Ukraine’s postwar status that range from formal neutrality to full disarmament. Such terms entirely contradict the promise NATO leaders made to Kyiv in July, at the alliance’s summit in Washington, of a “well-lit bridge” to membership. To agree to this kind of settlement would amount to shutting off the lights.

What’s more, the deal would very likely provoke a political and military crisis in Ukraine, which Russia could exploit to finally achieve its objective of turning the country into a submissive dominion. Ukraine’s collapse would have a devastating effect on Europe, causing a crisis of confidence not only in transatlantic relations but also in the collective defense principle in NATO’s Article 5 and in the European Union’s credibility. Russia likely would try to deepen these fissures and sow further doubts, prompting some European countries to hedge, distancing themselves from the West. To prevent that catastrophic outcome, Ukraine needs strong defenses for itself and security guarantees from Europe. There is now a narrow two-month window before Trump takes office to make sure both essential elements are built into any upcoming negotiations. Europe and Ukraine must not miss the opportunity.

BASELINE DEMANDS

It is important to note that a comprehensive peace agreement in 2025 is extremely unlikely. After illegally annexing territory in five Ukrainian provinces, Moscow will not want to relinquish its claims in the absence of a significant military defeat or internal political change. At the same time, any independent Ukrainian government will find it politically impossible and a danger to domestic stability to give up the occupied territories in Crimea, Donetsk, Kherson, Luhansk, and Zaporizhzhia.

Thus, a deal would be limited to a military cease-fire, with political talks deferred to a later phase. As for Russia’s expected compliance, history advises caution: the Minsk agreements also sought to halt the violence and set the groundwork for a broad settlement after Russia’s initial invasion in 2014. Between 2015 and 2022, Russia and Ukraine held almost 200 rounds of negotiations and agreed to 20 cease-fires. Throughout that period, Russia tested the agreements daily through artillery fire, sniper shots, infiltration, cyberattacks and electronic warfare, and intense disinformation campaigns. Today, Russia is just as unlikely to honor a similar commitment. A deal would simply pave the way for a protracted, low-intensity conflict.

Yet the new U.S. administration could still decide to pursue such an arrangement, despite its clear flaws. This leaves Ukraine and Europe to make the best of a bad situation. First, they must insist that no negotiations occur without Kyiv and the key European stakeholders at the table. Having American and Russian (and potentially Chinese) negotiators determine the future of the continent via a Saudi- or Turkish-brokered deal would be a nightmare scenario, recalling the 1938 Munich Agreement, when Czechoslovak diplomats were locked in a room while Western Europe delivered their country to Adolf Hitler, or the more recent 2020 Doha accord, the deal between the United States and the Taliban that the Trump administration forced on the republican government of Afghanistan.

It is also essential to avoid a loosely binding settlement that Russia could breach without immediate repercussions. The ineffectiveness of both the Minsk agreements and the 1994 Budapest Memorandum—an agreement Russia signed that provided security assurances to Belarus, Kazakhstan, and Ukraine—shows the danger of relying on Moscow to keep its word. A new agreement must therefore include strong compliance mechanisms that guarantee painful consequences in the event of a violation. Short of such measures, chances are that Russia would merely treat a cease-fire as an operational pause to rebuild its forces before resuming its large-scale offensive—only then, a war-torn and politically fragile Ukraine would have less ability to resist than it did in February 2022.

To avoid these pitfalls and impose conditions of its own, Europe has to force its way to the negotiating table. To do so, however, it needs to overcome its internal divisions. The governments of some European countries, such as Hungary and to a lesser extent Slovakia, openly advocate appeasing Russia, while others, including the current leadership in Germany, Greece, Italy, and Spain, have at least given the impression that they would not fight a U.S.-led deal to end the war quickly. But there are still many countries willing to take a firm stand for Ukraine and for European security interests. Members of a core coalition could include France, Poland, the United Kingdom, the Baltic states, and the Nordic countries, and they could potentially rally the Czech Republic, Romania, and even Belgium and the Netherlands to their side. France and the United Kingdom in particular could leverage their diplomatic and military capacity, as they did in the 2015 nuclear talks with Iran, to advocate for a principled, uncompromising European stance. With committed governments taking the lead, Europeans can make enough noise that the United States will find it difficult, if not impossible, to roll over them.

BOOTS ON THE GROUND

The next question is how to craft a credible security guarantee. One idea that has been floated is to invite Ukraine to begin the NATO accession process before the war ends. Politically, it would signal to Russia that it cannot expect a cease-fire agreement to include terms for Ukrainian neutrality or, even worse for Kyiv, demilitarization. Psychologically, the move would boost the morale of the Ukrainian military and society. It could also pressure Russia to enter talks sooner rather than later if it wants to negotiate a Ukrainian status short of full NATO membership. But a mere invitation to Kyiv to join NATO does not, in itself, constitute an immediate security guarantee. And getting all NATO members to agree to extend one would be challenging, given the reluctance of the incoming Trump administration to increase U.S. security commitments to Europe and the German government’s expressed fear of the escalatory nature of such a move. These countries could change their positions over time, but Ukrainian security guarantees cannot wait.

Another option could involve increasing financial support to Ukraine and removing most restrictions on the use of force—sometimes dubbed the “Israeli model,” in reference to the security guarantee the United States provides Israel. Equipping Ukraine with advanced capabilities would enable Kyiv to bolster its own defenses, thus deterring Russian aggression. But it requires sustained financial and political commitment from Western partners. And as Israel’s recent conflicts in the Middle East have shown, Ukraine’s backers would need to be prepared for direct participation in defenses against attacks. Moreover, those supporters could reverse this kind of guarantee at any time and at little cost to themselves.

This leaves a final option: to deploy military forces to Ukraine to ensure that Russia respects a cease-fire deal. Europe would lead such an operation, drawing on its military capabilities and strategic interests in defending Ukraine, with limited support from the United States. This approach would have several benefits: it would demonstrate a tangible European commitment and block further Russian advances, it would meet Trump’s expectation that Europeans take care of their own continent, and it would push Russia to engage in meaningful negotiations.

The purpose of a European deployment would not be to provide a comprehensive defense for Ukraine. Rather, it would be a guarantor force, serving as a deterrent against large-scale aggression by Russia and ready to respond quickly in the event of an attack. This setup is often referred to as the “Korean model,” as the U.S. military presence in South Korea offers a similar deterrent against North Korean aggression. In Ukraine, a European military presence would act as a security shield and would signal steadfast Western commitment. It would make Russia reluctant to escalate because another invasion of Ukraine would carry a high risk of drawing in Europe and NATO.

The European coalition’s military deployment would require a substantial land component of at least four to five multinational combined arms brigades under a permanent command structure. The troops would be stationed in eastern Ukraine and would need to be combat ready, mobile, and adapted to Ukrainian conditions. A strong air component, including combat air patrols, airborne radar to detect incoming aircraft or missiles, ground-based air defenses, and quick-response capabilities would be necessary to prevent Russian bombing and air incursions. Some of these systems could be operated from air bases outside Ukraine. Finally, a maritime component could help secure overseas lines of communication, but under the terms of the Montreux Convention, which governs passage through the Bosporus and the Dardanelles straits, Turkey would first need to allow a limited number of Western naval vessels entry to the Black Sea.

Unlike a UN peacekeeping mission, this European guarantor force would need credible authority and the capability to respond to a renewed Russian offensive far beyond mere observation. Still, its main role would be deterrence; European troops would not serve in frontline combat roles, where they would be exposed to daily incidents and skirmishes, to avoid the risk of unwanted, uncontrolled escalation. The coalition would operate defensively, positioned at least a dozen miles behind the frontline and with rules of engagement that emphasize their deterrent posture.

This operation would be ambitious for European countries but not impossible. France, Germany, and the United Kingdom have all previously sustained lengthy and demanding military missions in distant places such as Afghanistan, Iraq, and the Sahel. Although Europe would provide the rank-and-file troops, U.S. support—albeit limited and low profile—would still be needed to make the force sustainable, especially its air patrol, air defense, and intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance capabilities. Most if not all U.S. operations could be directed from a distance, with no need for a U.S. military footprint in Ukraine.

European guarantors should expect Russia to test the limits of this security arrangement by using rocket artillery and mortar shelling, electronic warfare, and special operations to disrupt the mission’s logistical networks. The European countries that contribute to the force would also likely face an enormous barrage of disinformation and other attempts at sabotage. To keep those threats contained, they will need strong defenses against cyberattacks and public diplomacy efforts to counteract Russian narratives.

COMING TO TERMS

Consenting to this sort of security guarantee will seem highly unattractive to Russia, considering its current military advantage. Moscow already rejected the March 2022 Istanbul agreement, a previous effort to end the war, because it refused to accept security guarantees that would be activated should Russia breach the deal. Putin, betting as he has from day one on waning U.S. interest and European fatigue, may now calculate that he would be better off playing for time and waiting for the new Trump administration to get impatient and strong-arm Ukraine into lowering its price for a deal.

Moscow will thus need convincing. Perhaps helping this effort, Russia’s medium-term prospects are not as strong as they may look. Tremendous battlefield losses have diminished the quality and quantity of Russian troop strength. Signing bonuses for joining the military have been steadily increasing, demonstrating the difficulty Moscow has had keeping up enrollment. Most of the equipment Russia sends to the frontline is refurbished from Cold War stockpiles, which, although large, have been significantly depleted. Meanwhile, the Russian economy is overheating; public spending is exploding, as are inflation and interest rates, and the country is losing its human capital and technological edge. When the tipping point may come is uncertain, and much depends on the external support Russia can secure, but it could happen as soon as the end of next year. In short, Russia is burning itself out, but Ukraine is burning faster. This means Putin is susceptible to pressure, but the West must increase its efforts to level the playing field between Kyiv and Moscow.

Those efforts must include both expanding military support to Ukraine and tightening the economic squeeze on Russia. Similar to the approach taken by U.S. President Richard Nixon in 1972, when he intensified U.S. bombing campaigns and diplomatic pressure on North Vietnam, the goal is to compel the adversary to negotiate. Today, direct intervention may be off the table, but coercive measures can influence Russia’s calculations. The United States’ recent decision to lift its restrictions on Ukraine using long-range weapons for deep strikes into Russia is a long overdue move in the right direction, but there is still much to be done, including stepping up deliveries of air defense launchers and ammunition, increasing financial aid, and accelerating military training. European countries could also seize frozen Russian assets, use the funds to speed up military deliveries to Ukraine, and enforce secondary sanctions on suppliers in Central Asia, East Asia, and the Middle East that are keeping Russia’s war effort afloat. With pressure rising on both the military and financial fronts, Russia would be forced to consider a deal that includes solid security guarantees for Ukraine.

If Russia remains unyielding, Europe must bear the bulk of the financial assistance to support Ukraine in a protracted conflict. And the need for a European deployment to Ukraine will not diminish. Part of a guarantor force—such as air defense and combat air patrols or a spearhead battalion to serve in a training role—could even be deployed while the war is still underway. This posture would show Russia that Europe is resolved to uphold Ukraine’s sovereignty and that European troops will be present there no matter what. It would tell Putin that even as politics fluctuate, the West is prepared to stand its ground.