Even if the dust has yet to fully settle, the fog shrouding the Ukraine conflict has begun to lift. Russia is on the verge of reclaiming full control over the western reaches of Kursk and, by its own reckoning, holds nearly all of Luhansk and over 70 percent of the Donetsk, Zaporizhzhia, and Kherson regions.
This explains why Russian President Vladimir Putin is in no rush to embrace a ceasefire. He seeks to bide his time, securing a decisive battlefield victory before turning to address the war’s underlying causes.
Ukraine, however, emerges as the unequivocal loser. President Volodymyr Zelensky, once a comedian, will be etched in history as a tragic figure. Ukraine will never acknowledge Russia’s annexation, and the four occupied regions may yet prove to be Russia’s Achilles’ heel in the decades ahead. Still, Ukraine will have little choice but to grudgingly accept Russia’s de facto control.
Even if Ukraine joins the European Union before 2030, as suggested by European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen, its aspirations for NATO membership appear doomed. Moreover, studies indicate that fewer than half of the 6.8 million Ukrainian refugees plan to return home once the war concludes.
Europe, too, finds itself among the vanquished, though whether its setbacks stem more from Russia or the United States remains unclear. Following U.S. Vice President Vance’s scathing critique of European leaders at the Munich Security Conference, a disillusioned Europe has resolved to bolster its defense spending. Painful as this may be, it is within Europe’s means. Even without U.S. support, other NATO members possess ample resources to develop a wide array of weapons and combat systems. Within a decade, Europe’s security framework could undergo a profound transformation.
But can Europe ever attain its much-vaunted strategic autonomy? The answer, in short, is no—not while the EU continues to rely on American nuclear deterrence as NATO’s ultimate shield. The combined nuclear arsenals of Britain and France pale in comparison to Russia’s.
This casts doubt on French President Emmanuel Macron’s pledge to extend nuclear deterrence across Europe. How many nations truly place faith in such a guarantee? Former French President Charles de Gaulle reportedly questioned whether the U.S. would “risk New York to save Paris”—a skepticism that likely spurred France’s pursuit of its own nuclear arsenal.
Europe’s security hinges on its capacity to coexist with Russia. Russia’s sphere of influence has contracted to the point where only Belarus remains a steadfast ally in Europe. Russia lacks the capacity to defeat a 32-member NATO in conventional warfare, nor should it contemplate a preemptive nuclear strike on a NATO state, which would surely provoke retaliation.
NATO’s expansion is nearing its end. It may endure, but it will not flourish. First, the global decline of liberal democracy undermines NATO’s strength as its military arm. This erosion is likely to accelerate under U.S. President Donald Trump, who shows little regard for democratic principles.
Second, Trump’s desire to delegate Europe’s security to Europeans while focusing on the Indo-Pacific and competition with China renders NATO’s Europeanization inevitable, further hastening the alliance’s decline.
The Ukraine conflict has fueled expectations for China to assume a greater global role, both in the war’s aftermath and following Vance’s Munich address. China has signaled its willingness to contribute, as evidenced by its 12-point peace proposal and joint efforts with Brazil to rally Global South nations in support of a ceasefire.
China’s substantive role, however, may materialize only after a ceasefire or armistice is secured. This hinges on two conditions: the need for a collective security guarantee involving major powers, including China, and the requirement for peacekeeping to prevent violations of a ceasefire by either Russia or Ukraine.
The 1953 Korean armistice offers a precedent for how an informal agreement backed by great powers can de-escalate hostilities. Negotiated primarily by China, the U.S., and North Korea, the truce has prevented the Korean conflict from reverting to the intense warfare of the early 1950s, despite the absence of a formal peace treaty.
For peacekeeping to proceed, the consent of the warring parties is essential. Should the UN issue a mandate, China—the largest troop contributor among the UN Security Council’s permanent members—could lead the effort, alongside Global South nations and select non-NATO European states. Russia would categorically oppose the involvement of any NATO or EU member.
Should these scenarios unfold, it would mark the first time China is invited to shape Europe’s security landscape. The irony is striking: as the U.S. seeks to pivot to the Indo-Pacific, China may find itself drawn into the European heartland. This heralds the dawn of a new era.