After weeks of anticipation, President Zelensky finally revealed Ukraine’s Victory Plan beneath the dome of Ukraine’s parliament, the Verkhovna Rada. The plan consists of five key points, three classified annexes, and high expectations. Yet, failing to execute it could lead Ukraine down a path that mirrors its tragic fate in the 20th century. As Ukrainian journalist and writer Vitaly Portnikov aptly warned, Ukraine’s future as an independent democratic state remains far from certain.
Avoiding unpleasant thoughts is not just a national pastime for us Ukrainians. Currently, Western intellectuals have been discussing the illusions they must now abandon — the inevitability of democracy’s spread due to its clear advantages over dictatorships, globalisation and economic ties as guarantees of peace, and the impossibility of a large-scale war in Europe.
The Victory Plan, which has already drawn criticism for its perceived unrealistic nature and omission of essential internal reforms, feels like a dire attempt to fend off a larger enemy that shows no signs of depleting its strength or zeal to annihilate its opponent.
The Ukraine Victory Plan, however, focuses on the actions of its partners rather than Ukraine itself. Nonetheless, the demands for reforming the country and rapprochement with NATO have long been integral to Euro-integration policies and cooperation with the Alliance. Moreover, fulfilling these lofty expectations set by Ukraine’s partners represents perhaps the sole opportunity to withstand an enemy that is continuously amassing its forces.
German intelligence suggests that Russia is gearing up for a direct confrontation with NATO by 2030. The principle of “peace through strength” remains the only reliable method for deterring an increasingly aggressive Russia.
Given this backdrop, how should we interpret the public aspects of the plan, which the President claims will lead to an end to the war next year if implemented within the specified timeframe?
The first geopolitical point centres on inviting Ukraine to join NATO. This proposal hinges on little more than the political will to make yet another commitment without any clear timeline for full membership. While this may seem like a relatively safe move for Ukraine’s partners, it appears impractical for Ukraine itself. After all, the country has been collaborating with NATO since 1992, and since the full-scale invasion, it has primarily been fed metaphors about the “irreversibility of the path to the Alliance” and “bridges” leading to membership.
However, an actual invitation to NATO—rather than just vague promises—would represent a significant diplomatic and strategic victory for Ukraine. Ukraine’s leadership has been actively promoting this idea to President Biden, hoping to align it with his legacy as his political career winds down. However, it appears that neither the current U.S. president nor any future one is willing to take the risk of escalating tensions with a nuclear power until Russia has been sufficiently weakened.
This situation bears some resemblance to Ukraine’s pursuit of candidate status for EU membership. High Representative of the EU, Josep Borrell, remarked that before the full-scale Russian invasion, the idea of granting Ukraine candidate status and the prospect of EU membership was “unthinkable.” This was eight years after the Revolution of Dignity, which boosted Ukraine’s Eurointegration reforms.
For Ukrainians, these symbolic gestures carry immense weight, even if they merely reflect years of internal changes in the pursuit of joining these alliances. Public sentiment in partner countries seems to support this notion.
Surveys conducted in the U.S., Italy, Germany, the Netherlands, and France prior to the NATO Summit in Vilnius revealed that, on average, more than 50% of respondents were in favour of inviting Ukraine to join NATO in the near future. However, there’s a caveat: most supporters believe that such an invitation should only be extended once the war has concluded.
The plan’s second point focuses on defence, a comprehensive and ambitious strategy that is likely to encounter the same lukewarm reception in the West as the previous one. While the need to bolster Ukraine’s defence capabilities is undeniable, the suggestion to wage war on Russian soil—so that Russians “feel what war is” and grasp the “depth of their state’s moral decline”—may largely fall on deaf ears. This comes despite the West’s somewhat lenient reaction to the Kursk operation, which ultimately failed to instigate any meaningful policy changes or strengthen the narrative that “this war is winnable.”
Ukraine hopes that this approach will thwart the establishment of buffer zones within its borders, yet this argument lacks potency in light of the substantial amount of land already occupied. Conversely, dismantling Russia’s offensive capabilities on Ukrainian territory is a direct concern for NATO, particularly for nations on the eastern flank, who hold no illusions about the dire implications of Ukraine’s defeat for their own security.
This point also highlights the urgent need to enhance defence capabilities with air defence systems, which remain scarce alongside dwindling ammunition stocks. The phenomenon of a ‘unsecured skies’ stems directly from a lack of political will among those capable of supplying these essential systems. Consequently, Russia continues its relentless assault on critical infrastructure. The victory plan calls for joint defensive operations and a unified air shield, a step the West should have embraced long ago. Shooting down aerial threats over parts of Ukraine is not an act of aggression against Russia; rather, it would yield significant economic and strategic benefits on the battlefield.
Moreover, the Victory Plan outlines the expansion of operations using domestically produced weapons, likely extending into Russian territory, while advocating for the removal of restrictions on Western arms and an increase in the availability of satellite intelligence. It’s evident that the initiative to allow strikes deep into Russia fhad no chance during an election year in the US.
Meanwhile, speculation is rife about pressure from Ukraine’s Western partners to reduce the mobilisation age to 18. This debate mirrors the classic chicken-and-egg dilemma: should more weapons be supplied despite the challenges of mobilisation, or is the shortage of adequate weaponry one of the key factors affecting the willingness to enlist in the Ukrainian Armed Forces?
The third point—deterrence—calls for the deployment of a comprehensive non-nuclear deterrence package in Ukraine, designed to limit Russia’s options to either a fair resolution of the conflict or coercion into non-aggression. At its core, this concept echoes the familiar notion of an “unbreakable fortress.” Implementing this strategy demands even greater resolve than the first.
The fourth point may spark concerns among Ukrainians themselves. It outlines a strategy to attract capital and business interests to Ukraine, thereby enhancing the stakes for Western elites in protecting the nation. Given Ukraine’s substantial reserves of strategic natural resources, safeguarding these assets could heighten Western interest amid the intensifying global competition for energy and food supplies.
Ukraine is poised to propose a special agreement focused on the joint protection, investment, and future use of its abundant natural resources. While the specifics of such an agreement remain unclear, negotiating fair terms during an existential crisis presents a formidable challenge. On the one hand, if the agreement leads to the “unfair” exploitation of the country for access to its resources, Ukraine risks falling back into the clutches of colonial-style policies. On the other hand, the urgent need for investment is undeniable, especially given that its credit ratings have plummeted.
This strategy also intensifies economic pressure on Russia by continuing to restrict exports and impose price caps on imported energy resources—essentially, a form of economic deterrence.
The final, fifth point focuses on the post-war landscape. It suggests that experienced Ukrainian units could replace a portion of the U.S. military presence in Europe. For the U.S., this could be a financially savvy move, especially if assessments show it won’t diminish its political clout on the continent. The robust experience of Ukrainian soldiers honed through training with Western weapons and collaboration with NATO forces could be invaluable in bolstering the Alliance’s own defences. Additionally, this could assist Ukraine in tackling potential internal challenges during the lengthy process of reintegrating veterans and ensuring their well-being.
History shows that the West’s half-hearted approach to Ukraine inevitably leads to one outcome: its gradual destruction at the hands of Russia.
The Victory Plan is, at its core, a survival strategy for the nation, yet the response from Western leaders—especially those in the U.S., U.K., France, Germany, and Italy—has been notably subdued. President Zelensky remarked that partners have regarded the proposals with a sense of practicality. The delayed meeting of the Ramstein group, which comprises around 50 of Ukraine’s allies, could have provided further insights into the situation.
In essence, the plan outlines a roadmap for concluding the war by next year, achieving a just and lasting peace, and restoring a rules-based global order. Above all, it seeks to ensure that Russia is never able to invade and re-colonise Ukraine. As President Zelensky aptly put it, if Russia cannot let us go, it must be forced to lose us.
