The False Architecture of Peace: Dissecting Putin’s Tactical Proposal for Ukraine

By Dr. Naim Asas

On March 28, 2025, Vladimir Putin proposed the creation of a transitional authority in Ukraine, ostensibly under the supervision of the United Nations, with the involvement of the United States and selected European powers. Branded as a neutral mechanism to organize “free and democratic elections,” the initiative is marketed as a gesture of de-escalation after years of bloodshed. Yet beneath the polished language lies a scheme of reconfiguration, not reconciliation — a diplomatic masquerade orchestrated by the very power that shattered Ukraine’s sovereignty.

This is not a peace plan. It is a project of institutional substitution. Its intent is not to restore order, but to replace legitimacy with manageability — to displace Ukraine’s elected leadership through the façade of international cooperation, and to embed Russian influence under the veneer of neutrality. When the invader dictates the structure of peace, peace becomes annexation by other means.

Putin’s rationale hinges on the alleged expiration of President Zelensky’s constitutional mandate. But wartime governance — particularly under martial law — is not governed by peacetime electoral calendars. Ukraine’s constitution accommodates leadership continuity under emergency conditions. Moscow knows this. Its insistence on Zelensky’s illegitimacy is not legal, but instrumental: it seeks to manufacture a vacuum where none exists, and then fill it with a structure of its own design — legitimized not by Ukrainian consent, but by international acquiescence.

The invocation of the United Nations is not a call for impartiality — it is a calculated play. The UN, already weakened by paralysis, selective engagement, and the veto power of Russia itself, cannot serve as a credible custodian of Ukrainian sovereignty. What Putin seeks is not oversight, but external validation of a Russian-engineered process. A process in which the victim is sidelined and the aggressor recast as a reasonable architect of order.

This is not diplomacy. It is deception at scale.

The proposal is timed with uncanny precision. It capitalizes on a shifting strategic landscape. In Washington, a second Trump presidency leans toward transactional disengagement, not principled resistance. Europe, fragmented and fatigued, is caught between moral solidarity and political pragmatism. Energy dependencies, populist pressures, and fiscal constraints fuel a growing desire to “move on.” Putin reads the room — and offers an elegant exit strategy dressed in UN blue.

But beneath that blue lies a red line: accepting this plan would institutionalize aggression. It would confirm that war, if framed correctly, can produce structural gains. That tanks may fail, but treaties tailored by the aggressor can succeed. It would mark a transition from a rules-based international order to a theater where power dictates process, and where the tools of diplomacy are repurposed to codify conquest.

The very word “peace” is weaponized. It no longer signals justice, restoration, or reconciliation — but instead denotes suspension, forgetting, and control. In this configuration, peace is the freezing of a conflict, the silencing of its victims, and the erasure of resistance from the political imagination. It is not the absence of war, but the continuation of domination through institutional choreography.

Ukraine does not need a transitional authority selected by foreign hands. It does not require externally imposed neutrality. What it demands — and what it deserves — is the right to choose its future without the consent of its aggressor. Any process that bypasses this principle is not a solution; it is an imposition.

The international community must ask itself: what is truly at stake? This is not only about Ukraine. It is about precedent. About whether military adventurism followed by diplomatic theater can become the new blueprint for geopolitical influence. About whether the erosion of sovereignty can be sanitized through multilateral language.

If accepted, this model could travel. It could be replicated. And soon, Taiwan, Moldova, Armenia, or any vulnerable republic might be offered their own “transition plans” — not to peace, but to submission.

This is why the world must reject the illusion.

Because peace cannot be engineered by the hand that shattered it. Because freedom cannot emerge from frameworks authored by its enemies. Because the rule of law — if it is to mean anything at all — must begin by rejecting the seduction of cosmetic solutions and confronting the brutal simplicity of the truth: this is not peace. It is a protocol for managed defeat.