After the meeting of the ‘Coalition of the Willing’ in Paris, Emmanuel Macron offered the French press a new phrase to dissect. “We could deploy several thousand troops to Ukraine as part of our external operations,” he said in an interview with France 2 on Tuesday evening. “This could happen as soon as peace is restored. We are not talking about a combat unit, but about ‘reassurance forces’ (une force de réassurance).”
The wording quickly became the summit’s most memorable detail. It is easy to imagine the quiet frustration among the diplomats who spent weeks preparing the meeting. What about the presence of Trump’s representatives? The fact that 35 coalition members gathered in one room? The painstaking discussions about security guarantees for Ukraine, or the idea of an international military contingent? All of that risked being overshadowed by a single new term. And yet those same diplomats would insist, with some justification, on how difficult it was to convene so many leaders, to reach even a narrow overlap of positions, to draw the Americans into serious discussion, and to secure their formal consent for the very existence of the “coalition of the willing.”
“The United States is asking us Europeans to become more autonomous and to take greater responsibility for our own security,” Emmanuel Macron said at a press conference. Seen this way, the “coalition of the willing” functions as a useful diplomatic clearing house: a space where Europeans, Americans and Ukrainians try to align their positions, sketch out red lines, argue, bargain and, occasionally, converge. That in itself is no small achievement. But it is still a long way from being enough to defeat Moscow.
Forcing the Kremlin into peace requires not just dialogue, but strength and political will. The “collective West”, as the aggressor likes to frame it, enjoys a clear advantage over Russia, both economically and militarily. Where it falls short is willpower. Europeans keep glancing at Washington; Washington, in turn, looks towards China and, at times, even Russia — but ultimately acts according to its own interests. As a result, the phrase “security guarantees for Ukraine” once again remains frustratingly vague. The United States is in no rush to define what, exactly, it would be prepared to do if Russia were to break a ceasefire and attack again.
So far, only three countries — France, the United Kingdom and Canada — have said plainly that they would be prepared to send “several thousand soldiers” to Ukraine, and even then only once the fighting has stopped. If such a multinational force were stationed somewhere near Ukraine’s western border, stripped of any mandate to fight in the event of renewed Russian aggression, it would no doubt lend a certain pastoral calm to the landscapes of Galicia and Volhynia. Whether it would deter Moscow from attacking again is another question entirely. The answer, at best, is uncertain. That does not make the idea meaningless, but it does mean that its timing, location and mandate demand far more serious and sober consideration than they have so far received.
As Emmanuel Macron put it at a press conference, “the United States is asking us, Europeans, to become more autonomous and to take greater responsibility for our own security.” In that sense, the “coalition of the willing” serves a purpose: it is a forum where Europeans, Americans and Ukrainians try to align positions, draw red lines, argue, negotiate and, occasionally, agree. All of this is constructive. But it remains wholly insufficient if the goal is not merely to manage the war, but to force Moscow to end it.
To force the Kremlin to the table, strength matters — but so does political will. On paper, the “collective West”, as the aggressor likes to call it, enjoys a decisive advantage over Russia, both economically and militarily. In practice, willpower is the scarcer resource. Europeans glance toward Washington, Washington looks to China — and occasionally to Russia — but everyone, first and foremost, acts according to their own interests. As a result, the phrase “security guarantees for Ukraine” once again remains frustratingly vague. The United States, in particular, shows little urgency in spelling out what it would actually do if Russia were to resume its assault after a ceasefire.
So far, only three countries — France, the United Kingdom and Canada — have said openly that they are prepared to send “several thousand soldiers” to Ukraine, and even then only once the fighting ends. If such a multinational force were stationed somewhere near Ukraine’s western border, barred from combat in the event of renewed Russian aggression, it would no doubt add a touch of order — even charm — to the landscapes of Galicia and Volhynia. Whether it would deter Moscow from striking again is far less certain. That does not make the proposal meaningless. It does, however, mean that its timing, location and mandate demand much more careful thought than they have so far received.
If France’s president may offer some clarity, the American leader continues to surprise the world almost daily. “If the United States dares to appropriate Greenland, it would spark a direct conflict between NATO members — and with it, the death of NATO,” warned numerous French experts during televised debates following the summit. Le Figaro echoed the sentiment: “No one is ready to fight the United States.” Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen put it bluntly on TV2: “If the United States were to launch a military attack against another NATO country, it would mean the end of both NATO and the entire post–Second World War security architecture.”
It’s a hard but necessary question: if Washington cannot guarantee the territorial integrity of a loyal, disciplined NATO member like Denmark — shielding the Danes even from potential American overreach — what can it realistically promise Ukraine, facing a brutal war unlike anything seen in modern history?
For now, the only credible guarantee is a strong Ukrainian army backed by a robust economy capable of sustaining nearly a million troops while continuing to grow. Only then could an international contingent, stationed perhaps near the Hungarian border, gain meaningful military experience — and be ready, if Russian aggression spreads beyond Ukraine, to defend its own countries.
What, then, could the West do now to hasten Moscow’s defeat? Above all, it could push the Russian economy to the point of exhaustion, using every tool still available. This remains the most realistic lever at the West’s disposal — and the one it can genuinely count on.
If oil prices collapse, Russia’s shadow fleet is drained or dismantled, and France, along with other European countries, finally stops buying Russian gas, the Russian economy could crumble, with devastating consequences for Putin. Only under that kind of pressure might he be forced to the negotiating table. Without it, all the well‑meaning talk of a ceasefire is little more than wishful thinking.
The second realistic way to bring the war to an end is simple: arm Ukraine. Produce weapons collaboratively, deliver them in the promised quantities, and invest decisively in Ukraine’s defence industry. Some of this cooperation is already underway, but it must be expanded and strengthened. This — not vague promises — is what genuine security guarantees look like.
