Trilateral talks between Russia, Ukraine, and the United States resume Tuesday in Abu Dhabi — the first direct engagement in months after the January-February round collapsed without progress. US special envoy Steve Witkoff frames the agenda as post-war security architecture, de-escalation, and humanitarian measures. Ukraine's Zelenskyy wants security guarantees, an energy ceasefire, Black Sea access, prisoner exchanges, and a leaders' summit. Lawmaker Davyd Arakhamia, part of Ukraine's delegation, told DW plainly: 'I don't think there will be a breakthrough.' Simply resuming trilateral talks, he said, counts as success. The delegations tell their own story. Washington sends Witkoff and Jared Kushner — Trump's son-in-law, a real estate developer moonlighting as special envoy. Moscow dispatches Vladimir Medinsky, Putin's aide and professional negotiator, backed by high-ranking military and intelligence officials. Ukraine fields Rustem Umerov, head of foreign intelligence, alongside Arakhamia and diplomatic-military officials. The asymmetry matters: Washington's delegation is politically connected but diplomatically thin; Russia's is designed to project seriousness without committing decision-makers. Europe will be present but almost certainly not at the table. Germany's Günter Sautter, France's Emmanuel Bonne, the UK's Jonathan Powell, Italy's Fabrizio Saggio, the European Commission's Björn Seibert, and NATO's Geoffrey van Leeuwen are all attending. But Hanna Shelest, security studies director at Ukrainian Prism, expects 'an observing role, at best.' Russia has consistently blocked European participation to maintain the fiction that this is a superpower conversation between Moscow and Washington — and to increase leverage on the US. Shelest's read on Medinsky is instructive: whenever he leads negotiations, 'the point becomes demonstrating to the US that Russia is willing to talk, but in reality, they won't reach an agreement. Instead, there will be a long sermon about history.' She suspects Moscow is using the talks to stall. However, she flagged the inclusion of high-ranking intelligence officers in Russia's delegation as a 'fairly positive aspect' — suggesting back-channel deals on prisoners or limited humanitarian measures are possible, even if a comprehensive deal is not. The Oleshky model looms over the talks. In late October, a temporary truce in the Russian-occupied Kherson town — credited to US First Lady Melania Trump — secured humanitarian aid and civilian evacuations. Multiple experts told DW that negotiators may try to replicate this template for other areas. But Ivan Us, economic diplomacy expert at Ukraine's National Institute for Strategic Studies, warned that Russia continued attacks elsewhere during the Oleshky truce and used the pause to fortify positions around the town. The template has a built-in defect. Trump's rhetoric last week about a 'big beautiful agreement' involving 'all of Europe' maps to Kushner's social media outline: permanent security consultations, crisis communications, military transparency, reciprocal de-escalation measures, and a long-term European security framework. Shelest dismissed these points as repackaged Russian proposals dating back to 2009. The architecture is familiar; the question is whether anyone at this table has the authority or incentive to commit to it. The structural problem is unchanged: the people in the room are not the people who decide. Us noted that negotiations with non-decision-makers may be performative by design. Russia wants talks that look like progress without yielding territory or sanctions relief. The US wants a diplomatic win without committing to enforcement. Ukraine wants security guarantees that no one at the table can provide. Europe stands in the hallway, informed but not consulted. The talks may produce a communiqué, possibly a humanitarian gesture, but the underlying extraction dynamic — where Ukraine bears the cost of a war while others manage the optics — remains intact.
