Juraj Majcin is a Policy Analyst at the European Policy Centre in Brussels. His work focuses on European and transatlantic security and defence policy, the mobilisation of the European defence industry, and the broader geopolitical dimensions of security.
U.S. President Donald Trump has said he may consider a land-swap deal with Vladimir Putin to end the war in Ukraine, ahead of their planned meeting in Alaska – a proposal that defies Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s categorical refusal to cede land, which he says would violate his country’s constitution and reward naked aggression.
Rather than tightening sanctions or ramping up military aid, Trump, who only recently threatened Moscow with sanctions out of frustration at Putin’s disinterest in genuine peace talks, is now weighing a concession over the heads of Ukrainians themselves, while granting Putin what he has craved since launching his full-scale invasion: a stage-managed summit with the U.S. president to shatter his isolation and revive his stature as a global leader.
Irrespective of the strategic blunder of rewarding Vladimir Putin with a high-profile summit and even entertaining concessions while Russia shows no appetite for compromise and continues its relentless onslaught – one fact must be clear: Land swaps will not solve this war.
This conflict is not about territory. As former U.S. National Security Advisor Zbigniew Brzezinski once observed, “Without Ukraine, Russia ceases to be an empire.” That reality underpins Vladimir Putin’s campaign to erase Ukraine’s independent statehood and block its Euro-Atlantic future. His ambitions will not be satisfied with holding Donetsk or Luhansk; he seeks control over the whole of Ukraine as the cornerstone for resurrecting a Russian empire lost with the Soviet Union’s collapse, an event he famously called at the 2007 Munich Security Conference “the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the 20th century.”
It is true that in some cases land swaps can bring peace. The Camp David Accords of 1978 saw Israel withdraw completely from the Sinai Peninsula, captured during the 1967 Six-Day War, in exchange for Egypt’s recognition of Israel’s right to exist. The peace has held for nearly half a century, earning Egyptian President Anwar Sadat and Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin the Nobel Peace Prize, an accolade Donald Trump, too, appears to covet.
But the lasting peace between Israel and Egypt was not the product of the land swap itself. It was the result of Israel’s clear military victories, which allowed it to negotiate from a position of strength, and Egypt’s willingness to end the conflict. Ukraine faces the opposite reality: It is being asked to negotiate while the war is still raging, with its territory under occupation and its enemy showing no signs of restraint. Far from concluding a war Ukraine had won, such a deal would reward ongoing aggression and invite further attacks.
If history is to be our guide, the more relevant analogy is not Camp David but Munich, 1938. Then, Western leaders, French President Édouard Daladier and British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, handed over the Sudetenland, part of Czechoslovakia, to Adolf Hitler in the hope of preserving peace, despite his openly expansionist ambitions. What followed was not “peace for our time,” but the outbreak of the Second World War.
Following the lessons of history, a far better model for Ukraine would be closer to the Korean Peninsula after 1953, a ceasefire backed by a strong allied presence, where Ukraine remains militarily supported, firmly integrated into the EU and NATO, and protected against renewed assault. This is the outcome to strive for, not to be sweet-talked by Putin into accepting Russia’s maximalist demands: no NATO membership, a demilitarised Ukraine, and amputated borders.
Sometimes, genuine peace is only possible after military victory. Anything less risks turning a temporary truce into a prelude for an even bigger war.
