Goncharenko’s Peace Plan: How to End the War, Step by Step

I am writing this in Kyiv in early October 2026. Bridges in the city are partially closed. Energy infrastructure, businesses, warehouses and data centres are coming under attack. For the first time in a century, Ukraine has gone an entire week without producing a single tonne of steel. In 2014, 95 children were born in Kyiv every day. In 2026, that figure is 44.

This is today’s REALITY.

Lie down in a grave and wait to die?

What is our strategy?

We spend a great deal of time dissecting Russia’s strategy: how its plan to “take Kyiv in three days” failed, how it shifted to a war of attrition and now seeks to wear us down.

The authorities are searching for a “wunderwaffe” that will solve all our problems. Having our own ballistic missiles would be good. But Russia has had ballistic missiles throughout the war, and we have not surrendered. Why should our missiles make Russia surrender? Finding a way to counter jet-powered drones would also be good. But Russia will develop new ones, and we will once again have to find a response. The cycle continues, each turn costing us thousands of lives and leaving destruction in its wake.

The Ukrainians possess a certain fondness for mysticism. We place our faith in signs, in miraculous salvation, and in the comfort that we shall somehow 'muddle through.' Yet the world is an unforgiving place. In reality, good people perish, and 'wonder weapons' arrive a day late and a dollar short, if they materialize at all.

So let us speak about objectives rather than faith. For me, there is one overriding objective now: to save as many Ukrainian lives as possible. Negotiate wherever agreement is possible. Be cunning where cunning is necessary. Apply pressure wherever we can. All in pursuit of peace on the most favourable terms possible for Ukrainians.

Neither side can win

Of course, Russia is to blame for all of this. Of course, Putin is a deranged man with blood on his hands. I understand that as well as anyone.

The battlefield currently sits in a state of relative parity. Ukraine remains a resilient nation, populated by a stoic people and defended by a formidable army that stands unbroken after five long years of conflict. Yet, Russia is likewise holding its ground: its economy remains functional, reinforcements continue to flow, and its capacity for adaptation matches our own. The Russians have already made it abundantly clear that they are prepared to expend a million of their own men, or indeed, two million, without a second thought.

We cannot defeat Russia. Russia cannot defeat us.

In a war of attrition, however, no such parity exists, and we are steadily losing ground. They wage war on their own coin; we subsist on the treasury of others. With each passing month, we forfeit our factories, our infrastructure, and thousands of irreplaceable lives, alongside thousands more who flee our borders, unlikely ever to return. Time, quite simply, is not on our side.

If victory eludes both combatants, negotiation remains the sole alternative.

I use that word deliberately: negotiation. Not capitulation. Not surrender. An agreement requires concessions from both (!) sides. I understand how painful that is. But we are adults. We can see what is happening and where it is leading.

The time has come for a sober, unvarnished conversation with the public. We must finally offer them the truth. We have had quite enough of the empty slogans regarding our strength, our unbreakable resolve, and our resilience.

How It Would Work

Yet our inability to agree on everything does not mean that we cannot agree on anything. If one comprehensive agreement is impossible, we must conclude a series of smaller ones.

Instead of a single negotiating table, there should be multiple, narrowly defined negotiating tracks running in parallel. Each should have its own subject, timeframe and guarantor. If one track breaks down, the others continue. Moscow would no longer have a single switch with which to bring down the entire process.

Take infrastructure. An immediate agreement to halt all strikes is unrealistic today. But an agreement to stop attacks on schools is possible. I believe it could even be relatively straightforward. Hospitals would come next. Then bridges. Then railways and residential buildings. Step by step, we would work towards a complete halt to attacks on infrastructure.

Every small agreement that is honoured provides something we currently lack altogether: a record of compliance. That, in turn, can serve as the foundation for broader agreements.

At this stage, I see the principal objectives as follows:

1. Maritime security: without access to the sea, our economy will collapse altogether.

2.Energy: cold weather is approaching, and people need heating and electricity.

3.    Infrastructure: bridges, railway stations, schools and hospitals.

4.    The front line: gradually restricting hostilities to the Donbas alone.

The Peace Triangle

How, then, do we negotiate when previous attempts have failed? This brings us to the most important point.

All three benefit, allowing such an agreement to hold without us having to police it every day. We do not trust Putin. We trust Ankara’s ability to calculate its financial interests.

The more stakeholders involved in the triangle, the stronger the agreement. If the Kremlin breaks it, it risks damaging relations with countries it has every reason to avoid antagonising.

This would change Ukraine’s very role. For years, we have been told to become Europe’s shield, its defensive wall, its steel porcupine. I propose that Ukraine should instead become a crossroads: a place where the interests of half the world converge, and where the whole world comes to negotiate.

Sooner or later, a shield will shatter. A crossroads is protected by everyone who uses it.

Who would provide guarantees, and what would they gain?