NAnews – Nikk.Agency Israel News

Putin long sold Trump one simple idea: that he would supposedly “squeeze” Donbass by force. This logic was presented in various forms — through talks about “realities on the ground,” “historical territories,” “peaceful conditions,” and other diplomatic rhetoric, which always stood for one thing: if Ukraine does not voluntarily surrender Donbass, Russia will continue to pressure.

More than a year has passed, and the strategic picture has hardly changed. The front line is moving, but not as Moscow promised. Russia continues to pay a huge price in people, equipment, economy, and external positions, but does not achieve the result that Putin tried to sell as inevitable.

This is where a new stage of the Kremlin’s bluff begins.

Why Putin’s bet on Donbass didn’t work

In 2025, according to many political retellings of his contacts with Washington, Putin convinced Trump and the American administration that Russia could squeeze Donbass by military means. The point was not only about Donbass. It was a signal: if concessions are not imposed on Ukraine now, the Kremlin will threaten to expand the war.

But time went against this scheme.

Ukraine did not capitulate. The West, despite fatigue and internal disputes, did not recognize Russian conditions for peace. And the front line on a strategic scale did not give Moscow the picture that Putin wanted to show Trump: that resistance is useless, and eventually, they will have to agree to Russian dictates.

For Israel, this story is important not only as the Ukrainian war. It is an example of how an authoritarian regime tries to bargain not with the power of results, but with the myth of results. In a region where Iran, Hezbollah, and other forces hostile to Israel also often build pressure on threats and demonstrative toughness, such mechanics are well known.

What really changed over this year

It is not the map that changed, but the cost of the war for Russia.

Russia’s economy is increasingly living in a mode of military distortion. Human losses are growing. Iran, one of Moscow’s key partners in the anti-Western axis, itself looks weakened. In the Caucasus, Russian influence has become far less monolithic than before the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Dependence on China has increased, and the space for independent play has narrowed.

Moscow’s acquisitions on a global scale look almost zero. The losses are real and accumulating.

That’s why Putin is once again raising the volume of threats. When there is no convincing victory on the ground, one has to turn on smoke, missiles, “wonder weapons,” and talks about how Russia supposedly can still dramatically change the course of the war.

“Oreshnik” as political smoke

A separate part of this story is Putin’s public statements about “Oreshnik.” He tried to explain the use of this weapon as if it was about testing future combat use. Radio Liberty conveyed his wording that the strike was allegedly on a “shed” to see “how the blocks fell.”

This phrase has become almost a perfect symbol of the current Kremlin rhetoric. Instead of a real strategic breakthrough — an explanation about a “shed.” Instead of confident military power — an attempt to prove to the audience that even a strange and dubious strike was part of a big plan.

This does not look like calm confidence. This looks like a regime that feels its threats are believed less and less.

NANews — Israel News | Nikk.Agency views this story as an important signal: when an aggressor starts selling the public not the result, but the legend of the result, it means its negotiating position is not as strong as it tries to show.

Ukraine’s move with the letter

Against this backdrop, Volodymyr Zelensky’s open letter to Putin became a subtle political blow. On June 4, 2026, Zelensky publicly proposed direct negotiations with Putin to end the war, including a neutral platform and a ceasefire during negotiations. Reuters reported that the letter was also conveyed to partners, including the US, and the Ukrainian side proposed starting the diplomatic process from the front line.

The Guardian published the full text of the letter, where Zelensky directly addresses Putin and says that the war can be stopped if Russia is truly ready for peace, not for new delays and destruction.

The political meaning of this move is simple. Ukraine does not look like a party avoiding peace. On the contrary, it publicly says: let’s end it, sit down at the table, fix the ceasefire, return people, exchange prisoners, stop the killings.

Now the question returns to Moscow. If Putin responds with a new missile, he confirms that he needs not peace, but the continuation of the war. If he remains silent — it shows weakness. If he agrees — he acknowledges that Ukrainian subjectivity exists and has to be dealt with directly.

The Kremlin’s last argument — mobilization

After nuclear blackmail and demonstrations of “Oreshnik,” Putin has one truly large internal resource left — mass mobilization. But it is dangerous for Russia itself.

The nervous reaction of the z-audience at the mere mention of a new large mobilization wave is not accidental. Because such a measure breaks the illusion of “war somewhere out there.” It brings the war back to Russian cities, families, yards, and regions, from where people have been drained for years for the sake of imperial fantasy.

Ukrainians have long formulated the harsh reality of this war: Russia brings truckloads of people to the front, Ukraine brings truckloads of drones. This is not a beautiful metaphor, but a description of the difference between two approaches. One regime tries to compensate for failures with flesh. Another country is forced to survive through technology, adaptation, and will.

The hardest part — the cost for Ukraine

All this could look like a chess game between the Kremlin, Washington, and Kyiv, if not for one main circumstance: the war is taking place on Ukrainian territory.

The best people of the country are dying there. Those who were not born for war, did not want war, and did not choose such a fate are fighting there. They were engineers, doctors, students, entrepreneurs, teachers, musicians, drivers, farmers, programmers, fathers, and sons. And now they hold the front because Putin’s aggression left them only one choice — to resist.

This is the ugliest grimace of war. The Kremlin bluffs, threatens, lies, plays with words and missiles. And Ukraine pays with real blood for the right not to become an appendix to someone else’s imperial map.

But there is also something encouraging.

Despite all the blows, losses, mistakes, fatigue, and pain, Ukrainians continue to determine their own path. Not Putin. Not Trump. Not intermediaries. Not those who propose “surrendering territory for the sake of silence.” Ukraine itself remains a subject that says: we are ready for peace, but not for capitulation.

And this is precisely what breaks the Kremlin’s main calculation today.