Forecasts suggest the war will not be over in 2026, but its intensity will be shifting from high-intensity combat toward a lower-level, protracted phase
The so-called “diplomatic holidays” were effectively cancelled over the festive period “in the name of peace.” There is cautious hope that this effort may yield results, though doubts remain. For now, the war continues.
The year 2026 began in an unusually routine, almost non-festive manner, despite snowfall that followed a long series of snowless winters. No breakthrough decisions were reached at the negotiating table. Nevertheless, the unprecedented suspension of Christmas diplomatic recesses—previously reported—has continued. Negotiations reportedly took place even on New Year’s Eve, with the participation of the heads of contact groups. This allows for a cautious assumption that all parties, including the aggressor, have at least some interest in a ceasefire. Regardless of statements by Lavrov and Peskov, Russia too, objectively, needs a pause.
Is such a pause achievable? Judging by reports from the battlefield, there is currently no clear affirmative answer—but neither is there a definitive negative one. The war has simply moved over from one year to the next, with no visible changes on the front lines or in near-term prospects.
In the meanwhile, Ukraine’s Armed Forces sought to deliver a New Year’s message of resolve. On New Year’s night, according to Unmanned System Forces’ Commander Robert “Magiar” Brovdi, strikes were carried out against five military targets in the occupied territories and five inside Russia. The list follows:
Ilsky Oil Refinery in Krasnodar Krai region, Russian Federation;
Tatneft oil storage facility in Almetyevsk, Republic of Tatarstan, Russian Federation;
Oil depot in Rovenky, Luhansk region;
Rovenky power substation, Luhansk region;
KASTA-2E2 radar station in Hvardiiske, occupied Crimea;
Radar site at Hvardiiske airfield, occupied Crimea;
Balashivka power substation, occupied part of Zaporizhzhia region;
Two concentrations of occupying forces and a fuel and lubricants depot in Valuyki, Belgorod region, Russian Federation;
A TOR surface-to-air missile system, occupied part of Donetsk region.
Thank you—but this long list of targets of varying significance and value only underscores the core reality: on the front lines, things largely remain as they were. Ukraine continues to wear down the enemy, while the latter, in turn, pretends that nothing of real consequence is happening. No one can currently say how or when this will end. Ukrainians—and Ukraine’s friends around the world—have long been waiting for an event that could be interpreted as a turning point, but such a moment now seems possible only in the form of a true “black swan.”
Meanwhile, our principal intermediary in attempts to reach any kind of understanding with the Russian aggressor—the United States—and our allies in Europe have continued to employ the same familiar rhetoric, which there is little point in repeating. Sociological surveys indicate that nearly half of Americans—49 percent—believe the Trump administration is pursuing the wrong policy toward Ukraine and assistance in its war against Russia. Far behind, in second place, are those who think the White House is doing everything right—30 percent.
As for Europeans, at the end of 2025 we (and not only we) wrote that they seemed finally to be waking up—that they had recognized Russia as a real enemy and the need to build defenses against it, including through support for Ukraine. All of this is correct, but it is being done in a characteristically “European” manner: slowly and with an abundance of words. In other words, there are many encouraging statements, but their tangible consequences are hard to discern. Perhaps this is due to “military secrecy”—let the Kremlin be afraid. Well then, let it be so…
It is already hard to recall who first proposed the rather peculiar name—“the Coalition of the Willing.” It seems that a “weak” name may have preprogrammed a “weak” outcome of its activities. Is there any real prospect at all? At first glance, there appear to be grounds for cautious hope. On January 3, political advisers from the Coalition countries are scheduled to meet in Kyiv; on January 5, a meeting of the Chiefs of General Staff of 15 countries is to take place in the Ukrainian capital; and on January 6, national leaders are expected to convene in Paris. The agenda is the final formulation of security guarantees for Ukraine.
However, let us not rush to conclusions. How many similar high-level meetings have already taken place? If one were to count them, fingers would not suffice—not even on both hands. What, frankly speaking, are the guarantees that this time the outcome will be something concrete, binding, and truly guaranteed?
Edward Lucas, a British writer and journalist, and senior fellow at the Center for European Policy Analysis, has acknowledged that Western strategy toward Ukraine has failed. His candid column is written in the rare genre of an extended apology to Ukraine—for short-sightedness, indecision, and cowardice. Lucas argues that the West was genuinely intimidated by Vladimir Putin’s nuclear blackmail. Pledges to support Ukraine “for as long as it takes” have quietly morphed into an unspoken (for now) question: how much longer is that supposed to be?
“Dear Ukrainians, we are so sorry. Britain and other west European countries, still like to say that they ‘stand with Ukraine’. But with the Trump administration now demanding that Kyiv agree “within days” to cede territory to the invader, the truth is emerging. Actually, we got scared and then bored. Our first and biggest failure was to let nuclear blackmail put us in a mental prison. The Biden administration in September 2022 believed there was a 50-50 chance that Russia would respond to looming battlefield disaster with a tactical nuclear weapon. Instead of facing down that outrageous threat, we flinched. We never sent you the weapons you needed to press home your advantage. Our allies in Europe’s east, their senses sharpened by their own geography and history, were clear: the only way to exorcise Russia’s imperialist demons was wrenching political change following a full-scale military defeat. Ukrainians felt the same. Sure, victory would have its dangers. But defeat spelt hell. We said we would support Ukraine ‘for as long as it takes’, without ever defining the ‘it’. That meant supporting you to win but not by too much, which turned into supporting you to lose, but not by too much: fighting to the last Ukrainian. The more we displayed weakness, the more we encouraged Putin to keep going. Yes, the damage to Russia’s economy is colossal, as are its casualties. But Putin won’t stop until he is stopped. We won’t do that. Perhaps you still can. We would appreciate that, because our own defense and deterrence, on current form, will not be ready for at least a decade. We got tired. It was inspirational to see how you cared about the freedom, democracy, legality, sovereignty and dignity we take for granted. We encouraged you to fight for them. And us? Self-centred to the last. Sorry about that,” Lucas wrote in The Times column.
Let us nevertheless hope that the British publicist is somewhat overstating the case. It is possible that he is trying to deliver yet another “wake-up call” to European capitals.
Strategic defense in the 21st century must begin with a reassessment of the foundational principles of the global order. For decades, the prevailing assumption was that the Big Bomb—nuclear weapons as a guarantee of mutual destruction in the event of a launch—functioned as an effective deterrent. What we now observe, however, is that weapons of mass destruction have effectively become a guarantee of impunity for the world’s most dangerous and unscrupulous actors. This situation demands a response; it must not be left unaddressed.
It is long overdue to change the analytical lens through which the Russo-Ukrainian war—the largest war of the 21st century—is viewed, by Ukraine itself, by Europe, and by the United States, insofar as that remains possible. Vladimir Putin no longer needs “all of Ukraine.” The Kremlin has already understood that the hypothetical “subjugation of Ukraine” would not enable the realization of its primary objective: reshaping the global order in favor of a new Russian neo-imperial project. As absurd as it may sound, such ambitions are still being nurtured and calculations are still being made—though today they belong more to the realm of speculative fiction than to any plausible strategic reality.
As a result of the protracted war against Ukraine, Russia has already lost—first and foremost, it has lost its future. Its relations with the West are beyond repair, including with the United States; even Donald Trump would be unable to restore them. The only option left to Vladimir Putin is to attempt to impose “affection” by force. Yet he lacks the force to do so.
Accordingly, all diplomatic maneuvers built around the refrain “What if we offer him something like this?” are fundamentally futile. Russia’s only response will continue to be missiles falling on Ukrainian cities.
We too should therefore avoid naïve wishful thinking, however tempting the idea of a New Year’s miracle may be. Unfortunately, there is no credible prospect of a rapid end to the war within weeks or even a few months. What, then, does 2026 realistically hold?
Within Ukraine’s expert community, forecasts abound, and they converge on one core assessment: Russia can no longer sustain uninterrupted “meat-grinder” pressure and will be forced to take operational pauses. Analysts differ only on timing. Viktor Shlynchak anticipates changes at the front in March–April; Oleh Saakian urges observers to “wait until May”; Ihor Reiterovych argues that a pause is possible in June–July. These views are succinctly summarized by Vitalii Portnikov: by the end of the year, a “waning of the war” is likely, as both sides become so exhausted that they are compelled to reduce the intensity of hostilities.
I think this primarily concerns Russia: the economic crisis will continue to deteriorate, and public support for the war has already fallen to 25% of the population, while 62–63%—two and a half times more—want peace negotiations. Ukraine, of course, would accept the anticipated “waning” of the war without a peace agreement. As for any document formally signed by the parties and guarantors, Vitalii Portnikov doesn’t believe this would be possible earlier than 2028–2029.
How will Nazi Russia seek to undermine the lives of Ukrainians during a hypothetical “cooling” of the hot phase of the conflict? And why, one might ask, is it so persistently pushing for elections or a referendum in Ukraine while the war is still ongoing?
Clearly, Moscow does not expect a pro-Russian candidate to win—such a name is virtually impossible to imagine on a Ukrainian ballot. For Russia, however, this is merely a tactical consideration. It always retains—at least in its own calculations—the option of declaring such elections illegitimate, escalating hostilities once again, and continuing the war as before.
In the short term, the primary objective is different: to provoke internal fragmentation within Ukraine. Any nationwide vote under conditions of war fatigue creates fertile ground for this, especially when combined with the intensification of Russia’s powerful information and disinformation campaigns and the overall exhaustion of Ukrainian society. The full capacity of Russia’s contemporary propaganda apparatus would be mobilized to achieve this outcome.
This means that Ukraine must anticipate this threat in advance—by designing, resourcing, and deploying a comprehensive defensive strategy in the political, informational, and societal domains well before such scenarios materialize.
Propaganda is the one domain in which our enemy can legitimately be called a global leader. The arsenal of its “special operations” is striking above all for its scale, but it is also constantly updated and kept in a state of readiness.
Take, for example, Igor Girkin (Strelkov). For a time, he seemed to disappear from the public radar—and that was a mistake. Why is he still allowed, even from prison, to openly criticize Vladimir Putin? Why hasn’t he been silenced? The likely answer is that Colonel Igor Girkin remains an active asset for Russia’s security services. He appears to function as a “front man” for one faction of the so-called chekist elite opposed to Putin—one that is especially radical and aggressively anti-Ukrainian. There is therefore no reason for complacency: Girkin may well serve as a key element in a long-term psychological operation built around the narrative “Putin is the lesser evil—do not touch Putin.”
As for New Year’s miracles—they do happen, and they too are delivered by intelligence services, but this time by Ukrainian ones. Ukraine’s Main Intelligence Directorate (HUR) announced a major failure of Russian special services: Denis Kapustin, commander of the Russian Volunteer Corps (RDK), whose death had been reported shortly before the New Year, is in fact alive. Moreover, the half a million dollars allegedly paid out for his “elimination” will instead strengthen Ukrainian special operations forces.
May there be more such developments in the New Year.
We will prevail!
Oleh Novychenko, Kyiv
Headline photo is illustrative
