On November 24, 2025, the world caught its breath as details of a 28-point peace plan, devised by former U.S. President Donald Trump, emerged with the promise—at least on paper—of ending the grinding war in Ukraine. But as the ink dried on the draft, critics and allies alike began to pore over its details, sparking fierce debate across capitals from Kyiv to Washington, Moscow to Brussels. The plan, obtained by the Associated Press and widely reported by outlets like Sky News, would require Ukraine to cede vast swathes of territory to Russia and accept a raft of conditions heavily skewed in Moscow’s favor.
At the heart of the proposal is a demand that Ukraine relinquish Crimea, Luhansk, and Donetsk entirely to Russia—territories that have been fiercely contested since the war’s outbreak in 2022. Notably, Ukraine still controls about a third of Donetsk, yet under Trump’s plan, this too would be handed over. The regions of Kherson and Zaporizhzhia would be “frozen” along the current battle lines, effectively cementing Russian gains there as well. For Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, who has repeatedly rejected calls for territorial concessions, these terms are widely seen as a nonstarter.
According to the Associated Press, the plan was hammered out in negotiations between Trump’s confidant Steve Witkoff and Kremlin official Kirill Dmitriev—a pairing that, as The Guardian notes, virtually guaranteed a deal tilted toward Russia. Witkoff and Jared Kushner, the other U.S. negotiator, are shrewd business operators but have little diplomatic experience or knowledge of Ukraine. Their influence, critics argue, stems more from personal ties to Trump than from expertise in international affairs.
The peace plan sets a hard cap on Ukraine’s armed forces at 600,000, down from roughly 880,000 today. Russia, for its part, faces no comparable military constraint. The plan also bars Ukraine from joining NATO, a long-standing Russian demand, though it does leave the door open for European Union membership. Elections in Ukraine must be held within 100 days of the agreement, an ambitious timeline given the ongoing conflict and occupation of swathes of Ukrainian territory.
Some elements of the plan are framed as security guarantees for Ukraine. For instance, there’s mention of a “decisive coordinated military response” if Russia launches further incursions. Yet, as reported by Sky News, the document is vague about what role the United States or its European allies would actually play in such a scenario. A side agreement says that any “significant, deliberate and sustained armed attack” by Russia would be viewed as threatening the peace and security of the transatlantic community. Still, the agreement doesn’t obligate the U.S. or Europe to intervene, only to “determine the measures necessary to restore security.”
Economically, the plan envisions the staged lifting of sanctions on Russia and Moscow’s reintegration into the global economy—including a possible return to the G8. Frozen Russian assets, totaling $100 billion, would be invested in rebuilding Ukraine, with the United States receiving 50% of the profits. Europe would contribute an additional $100 billion for reconstruction. Yet, as The Guardian points out, Moscow was unlikely to recover those frozen funds anyway, so this concession is less significant than it first appears. The plan also outlines long-term U.S.-Russia economic cooperation in energy, infrastructure, artificial intelligence, and rare earth metals—areas that could benefit both economies but raise eyebrows among those wary of deepening Western-Russian ties in the current climate.
On the humanitarian front, the plan calls for a committee to exchange prisoners and address the fate of civilian detainees and hostages, including children. A family reunification program is included, and there are measures aimed at alleviating the suffering of war victims. Both sides would receive full amnesty for actions during the war, and the agreement would be legally binding, with implementation monitored by a Peace Council headed by Trump himself. Sanctions would be imposed for violations.
Yet, perhaps the most controversial aspect of the plan is its sweeping amnesty for all parties involved in the conflict. This would effectively negate international criminal court warrants for Russian President Vladimir Putin and his top officials, despite well-documented Russian war crimes in Bucha, Irpin, Borodianka, and elsewhere. The plan’s demand for Ukrainian “de-Nazification”—echoing a persistent Russian propaganda line—adds insult to injury for many Ukrainians and Western observers. As The Guardian puts it, “the plan grants the Kremlin full immunity from prosecution, negating international criminal court warrants for Putin and his top officials.”
Reactions to the plan have been swift and polarized. Trump himself has described the ongoing negotiations in Switzerland as promising, stating, “something good just may be happening.” European and Ukrainian negotiators are reportedly working to “rework” the plan to make it more favorable to Kyiv, and U.S. officials have said that “some changes” are being made after positive talks with Ukraine. Britain, France, and Germany have even drafted their own 28-point counterproposal, including suggested changes and deletions to Trump’s original terms.
Despite Russia’s recent battlefield advances—especially around Pokrovsk and Myrnohrad in Donetsk province, and parts of Zaporizhzhia—Putin remains far from his original objective: conquering all four Ukrainian provinces of Luhansk, Donetsk, Kherson, and Zaporizhzhia. The Ukrainian army, while under immense strain, isn’t close to collapse. Still, Ukraine faces acute shortages: too few soldiers to hold an 800-mile front line and inadequate air defenses after Trump’s administration severely cut direct U.S. military aid. European support, while stepped up, hasn’t filled the gap.
Russia, for its part, has paid dearly. According to the UK Ministry of Defence, the Russian military has suffered over 1 million casualties, nearly 150,000 confirmed deaths, and more than 23,000 pieces of equipment destroyed or damaged as of mid-November 2025. Ukrainian strikes on Russian refineries—at least 17 by mid-November—have caused fuel shortages, long lines at petrol stations, rationing, and a cut in refining capacity by up to a fifth.
The plan’s critics argue that it rewards Russian aggression and undermines the principle of territorial integrity. Supporters, including Trump, insist it’s time to end the bloodshed, even as the war drags on with no clear end in sight. Trump has accused Ukraine of ingratitude but has also signaled a willingness to compromise, saying the plan is “not my final offer” and that his deadline could be extended. Some U.S. officials, like Secretary of State Marco Rubio, have reportedly worked to rework the plan with input from Ukrainian officials, though Rubio himself has denied that the plan originated in Russia.
As negotiations continue, the fate of Ukraine—and the broader security architecture of Europe—hangs in the balance. Whether the Trump plan, in its original or revised form, will bring peace or simply cement the status quo remains to be seen. For now, the world watches, waits, and wonders what price will ultimately be paid for peace.
