The War That Diplomacy Can't Touch
Sarah Longwell, Tim Miller, Bill Kristol have written something that cuts through the noise: a doctrinal analysis of the Ukraine war that refuses to pretend negotiations exist in the same universe as the fighting on the ground. What makes this piece notable is its refusal to accept the comforting fiction that peace processes and battlefield conduct are connected. They are not.
Ten Phases, One Pattern
The authors map the war's evolution through ten distinct phases, from the initial Russian invasion through the Ukrainian summer offensive to the current stalemate. Their assessment: Ukraine's record stands at 6–2–2—six operational successes, two clear setbacks, two draws. But since summer 2025, the balance has grown murky.
Sarah Longwell, Tim Miller, Bill Kristol writes, "Traditional markers of success—terrain gained or lost, cities held, offensives launched, the state of the army and the people's will—tell us less than they once did." The war has shifted from contests of maneuver to contests of endurance. And endurance, in this context, is measured by warm apartments, flowing water, functioning hospitals.
"A nation that deliberately targets civilians is not looking for a prelude to peace; they are advancing an argument against trust."
Winter as a Weapon
The defining feature of this new phase is Russia's systematic effort to turn winter itself into a weapon. Russian forces have intensified strikes on Ukrainian energy generation and distribution infrastructure, knowing full well what those attacks mean when temperatures plunge well below freezing.
As Sarah Longwell, Tim Miller, Bill Kristol puts it, "Without electricity, not just lights and communications, but heat, water pressure, sewage, hospital care, and transportation, all Ukrainian urban life is affected." An American friend living in Kyiv captured the reality: pipes cracking, toilets freezing, water supply critical not because reservoirs are empty but because systems that move and heat water are malfunctioning.
This is, by any reasonable interpretation of international law, a war against civilians. It is an additional war crime on top of the uncountable thousands already committed. Yet this is the context in which the world is supposed to take seriously the notion that a peace process is underway.
Critics might note that infrastructure targeting is standard in modern warfare—every side strikes enemy logistics and energy systems. The distinction here is scale and intent: Russia's campaign appears designed to make civilian life unsustainable, not to gain military advantage.
The Negotiation Contradiction
Against this backdrop, the United States has been attempting to broker negotiations. On paper, these talks explore pathways toward ending the war. In practice, they have exposed a deep contradiction.
Sarah Longwell, Tim Miller, Bill Kristol writes, "American negotiators have pursued what might be described as a bifurcated strategy: engaging Russia with what Moscow sees as respectful dialogue and flexibility, while simultaneously pressing Ukraine to consider territorial concessions and limits on sovereignty in the name of realism." Russia's position remains consistent: reject ceasefires not embedded in comprehensive settlement on its terms, insist Ukraine cede territory it still controls, reject binding security guarantees.
Ukraine's position has also been consistent: without credible, enforceable security guarantees, any ceasefire simply becomes an operational pause before the next Russian offensive. History gives Kyiv ample reason for skepticism. Other Europeans see it the same way.
What makes the current moment jarring is not that talks are difficult—that is normal in war—but that negotiations proceed as if they exist in a separate universe from the war being fought. While diplomats discuss frameworks and sequencing, Russian forces continue to attack civilian infrastructure in ways that actively undermine the possibility of peace.
Critics might argue that diplomacy must proceed even when battlefield conditions deteriorate—that talks create channels for eventual settlement. But when one side uses negotiations as cover for intensified civilian targeting, the channel becomes a shield.
Europe Adapts, America Distracts
The European Union and NATO members are no longer treating support for Ukraine as emergency response. They have adapted to a long-term approach: multiyear funding mechanisms, coordinated procurement, expanded production of air defense systems, long-term sustainment planning.
Sarah Longwell, Tim Miller, Bill Kristol puts it, "European leaders understand that the outcome of this war will shape their own security environment for decades. A Russian victory—even a limited one—would validate coercion, normalize infrastructure warfare, and push instability westward." Europe's response has shifted from episodic aid to industrial strategy.
Meanwhile, Washington's focus on this critical conflict continues to splinter. The administration has been drawn toward crises in Venezuela, speculative disputes over Greenland, unrest in American cities, and the gravitational pull of various domestic political scandals. Europe has begun to adapt in more structural ways—precisely as public debate in the United States grows more distracted and episodic.
Intelligence sharing has evolved. While the United States remains central, European partners have expanded their own contributions, ensuring Ukraine retains access to battlefield awareness even amid political uncertainty and rising distrust in Washington. This diversification reflects a sober understanding that reliance on a single patron, especially one not proving itself trustworthy, is a vulnerability.
The Volunteers Who Stay
Another underappreciated feature: the continued presence of foreign volunteers fighting alongside Ukrainian forces. They come from dozens of countries, motivated by the belief that Ukraine's fate is not isolated—that if Russia succeeds here, the precedent will matter elsewhere.
Thousands of foreign fighters have served in Ukrainian units since 2022. Casualties among these volunteers are significant, particularly among cohorts drawn from economically vulnerable regions who often find themselves in the most dangerous roles. American citizens have fought and died in Ukraine, though the United States does not track or publicize those figures systematically.
These are not U.S. soldiers deployed by Washington; they are volunteers who made a personal calculation about risk and consequence. Their presence underscores a reality often missed in policy debates: many people see this war not as a faraway dispute over land, but as forward defense.
Critics might note that volunteer forces create complications—coordination challenges, political sensitivities, uneven training. But their persistence signals something official metrics miss: this war matters to people beyond government calculations.
Bottom Line
Sarah Longwell, Tim Miller, Bill Kristol have written a piece that refuses the comforting lie that diplomacy and battlefield conduct are connected. They are not. Russia's systematic targeting of Ukrainian civilian infrastructure—making winter a weapon, freezing toilets, cracking pipes—continues while negotiations proceed in Abu Dhabi. Europe has adapted to long-term sustainment precisely as American attention splinters. The verdict: peace talks disconnected from battlefield reality are not prelude to settlement; they are evidence against trust. Until that truth is confronted honestly, talk of settlement will remain just that—talk—while the war grinds on in the dark, the cold, and the silence of frozen cities.