Vladimir Putin has effectively rejected a thirty-day ceasefire in the war with Ukraine proposed by United States President Donald Trump. The Ukrainian authorities, who had long resisted a ceasefire without preconditions, conversely came out in support of it. Formally, Putin did not refuse the American president outright but outlined «nuances» that make a ceasefire practically impossible. The Russian leader explicitly stated that a ceasefire would benefit Ukraine, not the Kremlin.
«As you know, Russian troops are advancing on nearly all sections of the combat zone. And conditions are being created there to encircle fairly large units,» Putin said.
He expressed concerns that during a 30-day ceasefire, Ukraine could mobilize and receive new weapons. Additionally, Putin believes that maintaining a ceasefire along a 2,000-kilometer frontline is hardly feasible. He remained silent on the fact that Russia, too, could improve its recruitment of contract soldiers and stockpile weapons during such a pause. The Russian president’s message to the U.S. leadership boils down to: «You’re trying to side with Ukraine; a ceasefire doesn’t benefit us; our troops are advancing everywhere. And anyway, no one can guarantee the conditions for a ceasefire.» This stance aligns closely with the position of military correspondents linked to the Ministry of Defense and the Kovalchuk brothers’ media, who echo similar sentiments. Vladimir Putin has sided with the security apparatus and a faction of hawks among officials and civilian business leaders who advocate for continuing the war—at least as long as the Russian army can seize new territories.
How soberly the president assesses the «realities on the ground» remains a big question. The Ukrainian Armed Forces (AFU) are beginning to reclaim territories (e.g., the city of Toretsk), and pro-war Z-channels are openly reporting on this. However, against the backdrop of liberating Russia’s own territories in the Kursk region, these losses don’t seem significant to Putin. A ceasefire would benefit Russia too, but a bespoke reality has been constructed around Putin. We can note that, for now, the Russian president is sticking to the position of the security hawks intent on prolonging the war, rather than the civilian business community and bureaucracy, who are weary of the fighting, fear an economic collapse, and desire normalization.
Society, exhausted by the war and initially encouraged by the start of Russia-U.S. talks (according to the FOM anxiety index), is sinking back into unease. People sense that peace isn’t coming anytime soon and that negotiations have stalled. Donald Trump must feel this too—he secured concessions from Ukraine, only to receive a set of unfeasible conditions from Vladimir Putin, whom he had previously praised effusively. The 30-day ceasefire was Trump’s own idea, one he actively championed. Putin’s effective rejection deals a painful blow to the U.S. president’s image. Of course, Trump could cling to Putin’s formal «yes» and gloss over the nuances, but everyone would see that Putin rebuffed him, and Trump swallowed it, pretending nothing happened. In response, the U.S. might impose harsh sanctions to pressure the Kremlin into a ceasefire. This creates a new fork in the road: if Putin is under the influence of the pro-war security faction within Russia’s elites, sanctions might only harden his stance, leading him to abandon talks altogether. That would expose Trump’s efforts as futile and damage his image further. Russia’s security faction senses the weakness of Trump’s position and is exploiting it, believing he has no good options, though a failed negotiation would be the worst outcome in his eyes. It’s far from certain that this high-stakes gamble will lead to victory for Russia’s hawks, whom Putin has now fully joined. They sense Trump is willing to make concessions to expedite a peace deal, so they keep escalating the demands voiced by the Russian president. It’s reminiscent of a semi-criminal group «working over» a faltering businessman—promising profits, offering vague assurances, while piling on increasingly burdensome terms. Donald Trump is unlikely to enjoy being cast in this role, and at some point, U.S. authorities will have to adopt a tougher stance. If that happens, the «civilian» faction of Russia’s elites might step into the negotiation arena.
All for «Time of Heroes»
The political wing of the Russian Presidential Administration continues to aggressively promote the «Time of Heroes» program in the media. RBC reported that the Kremlin has paused recruitment for the so-called «school of governors» to focus on «Time of Heroes,» a program aimed at advancing war participants into positions of power. This signal is primarily directed at Vladimir Putin, who constantly emphasizes his direct communication with frontline soldiers, calling them «my guys» and the «new elite.» The head of the Kremlin’s political wing, Sergey Kiriyenko, keenly senses these sentiments. Russian media regularly report on appointments from this program. These posts aren’t particularly high-ranking, and many of the «military» appointees were already embedded in the bureaucratic or parliamentary hierarchy. Actual military personnel (often officers) receive roles tied to integrating and liaising with veterans. The system gives war participants only what it can spare, while the media crafts an image of their mass promotion.
Pausing the governors’ school is part of this narrative. Kiriyenko wants to demonstrate (above all to Putin) that the political wing is so focused on integrating military personnel that it’s abandoning flagship projects vital to itself. In practice, this pause changes little for Kremlin political managers. Most regions are already led by governors appointed under Kiriyenko and trained in his school. He has reformatted and indoctrinated the gubernatorial corps with his managerial practices. Veteran governors from Kiriyenko’s cohort are only beginning their second terms, and it’s too early to replace them (as evidenced by the scarcity of new acting governors). Even if fresh blood is needed, the school’s graduates provide a substantial reserve to draw from for years. The project can be shelved—given the restructured gubernatorial corps and Putin’s ultra-conservative approach to personnel, there’s simply no room for new graduates. Kiriyenko lends this move a sacrificial tone, one that Vladimir Putin, living in the virtual reality crafted by the political wing, will likely appreciate.
