Donald Trump announced an "ENERGY CEASEFIRE" between Russia and Ukraine on Truth Social, without informing either side. Zelenskyy, blindsided, nonetheless accepted. Putin responded by bombing Ukrainian power plants. This sequence captures the entire diplomatic problem: a US president who manufactures agreements from thin air while the actual combatants operate on fundamentally incompatible terms. Former British diplomat Nigel Gould-Davies, now senior fellow at the International Institute for Strategic Studies, frames the structural impasse plainly: Russia has no interest in a ceasefire. Moscow wants a full end to the war on terms that mean "decisive superiority and dominance over a severely weakened Ukraine." Ukraine wants an unconditional ceasefire. There is no overlap in the Venn diagram. What passes for negotiations are really parallel lobbying campaigns aimed at the White House, each side trying to pin blame on the other for the absence of Trump's Nobel Prize. Trump's own behaviour compounds the problem. His "natural centre of gravity is to favour Russia," says Gould-Davies, citing restrictions on US weapons supplies, past pauses in intelligence sharing, and Zelenskyy's accusation this week that Trump restricted Ukrainian access to military-grade Starlink services — crippling drone operations and air defences. Trump has occasionally sided with Ukraine (sanctioning Russian oil companies, assisting energy-infrastructure targeting), but the pattern tilts Moscow's way. The week's most consequential development may be Trump's announcement of a plan to import Russian diesel to lower US pump prices ahead of next month's midterms. A bipartisan group of US senators flagged the imports as potentially illegal. The volumes discussed are too small to move prices. But Gould-Davies sees a deeper play: Trump may be using Russia as a broker to get Iran to ease its blockade of the Strait of Hormuz, delivering the fuel-price relief American voters would actually notice. Putin's price for that brokerage, Gould-Davies suspects, could be eased sanctions and an end to US support for Ukraine. "Join the dots and it logically makes sense." Behind the scenes, diplomatic back channels remain open — secret meetings, off-the-record communications between all sides. Gould-Davies is sceptical they accomplish anything, calling them "a degree of collective delusion" that perpetuates "the illusion that peace may be around the corner." European diplomats have redirected effort toward managing Washington itself, deploying what Gould-Davies calls an "Avengers assemble" approach: flooding the capital when Trump veers too far. This has so far averted the worst-case scenario of a permanent US break with transatlantic partners. The White House itself is fractured. CIA director John Ratcliffe visited Moscow this summer and is reliably reported to have warned Russia against escalation into Europe — a position diametrically opposed to Trump's public posture. Western diplomats are reduced to Kremlinology of the Oval Office, trying to identify who whispers last in Trump's ear. Meanwhile, Andy Burnham hosted Zelenskyy at Downing Street, with the UK doubling down on Ukraine support and calling on others to "follow suit." Sally Rooney announced she is withdrawing her books from UK sale over support for banned organisation Palestine Action. Israel is blocking a key military outpost project for Trump's Board of Peace in Gaza. Guinea-Bissau has denied approval for a controversial US-funded hepatitis B study in newborns. And Ukraine's Starlink access has been suddenly restricted as Washington pressures Kyiv to halt long-range strikes on Russia's oil industry.
