The hardest stretch of any negotiation, in the last 10 meters
Três anos após a invasão russa da Ucrânia, o enviado americano Keith Kellogg declarou que a paz está nos seus 'últimos 10 metros' — uma metáfora que revela tanto a proximidade quanto o peso esmagador do que ainda resta percorrer. Dois nós persistem no centro das negociações: o destino do Donbas e o controle da usina nuclear de Zaporizhzhia, questões que condensam, em si mesmas, décadas de identidade, soberania e medo. Enquanto Washington projeta otimismo, Moscou exige mudanças 'radicais' nas propostas americanas, e Kyiv recusa ceder território sem referendo — lembrando ao mundo que o fim de uma guerra não se decreta, mas se constrói entre aqueles que mais têm a perder.
- Kellogg anunciou que as negociações estão em estágio final, com apenas dois obstáculos restantes — mas esses dois obstáculos são exatamente os mais insolúveis.
- O Kremlin respondeu ao otimismo americano exigindo mudanças 'sérias e radicais' nas propostas de Washington, sem especificar quais — uma demanda deliberadamente vaga que mantém a pressão sem revelar o preço.
- Zelensky traçou uma linha vermelha: ceder o Donetsk sem referendo seria ilegal e transformaria qualquer cessar-fogo em uma pausa antes da próxima ofensiva russa.
- A usina de Zaporizhzhia, maior da Europa e sob controle russo desde março de 2022, adiciona uma dimensão existencial às negociações — um erro de cálculo poderia desencadear um desastre radiológico em escala continental.
- Trump mobiliza múltiplos enviados — Kellogg, Witkoff e Kushner — sinalizando urgência diplomática, mas também a fragmentação de uma estratégia que ainda busca seu centro de gravidade.
Na biblioteca presidencial de Ronald Reagan, na Califórnia, o enviado americano Keith Kellogg declarou no sábado que a guerra na Ucrânia estava em seus 'últimos 10 metros' — o trecho mais difícil de qualquer negociação. Segundo ele, apenas dois obstáculos restavam: o futuro do Donbas e o controle da usina nuclear de Zaporizhzhia, atualmente ocupada por forças russas.
A declaração ganhou peso pelo contexto: Kellogg deixará o cargo em janeiro, e seu chefe, Donald Trump, transformou o fim deste conflito em uma ambição central de sua presidência. O otimismo do enviado sugeria que a administração acreditava ter finalmente encontrado o caminho.
Mas Moscou respondeu com frieza. Após uma reunião de quatro horas entre Putin e os enviados americanos Steve Witkoff e Jared Kushner, o assessor de política externa do Kremlin, Yuri Ushakov, declarou à mídia russa que os Estados Unidos precisariam fazer mudanças 'sérias, eu diria radicais' em suas propostas — sem especificar quais, deixando a exigência envolta em ambiguidade estratégica.
No centro do impasse está o Donbas. A Rússia reivindica toda a região, mas a Ucrânia ainda controla cerca de 5.000 quilômetros quadrados do território. Zelensky foi categórico: ceder o restante do Donetsk sem referendo seria ilegal e entregaria à Rússia uma base para incursões ainda mais profundas. Um cessar-fogo que congele os ganhos territoriais russos, argumentou, seria apenas uma pausa antes do próximo avanço.
A usina de Zaporizhzhia acrescenta outra camada de complexidade. Sob controle russo desde março de 2022, qualquer acordo sobre sua gestão carrega implicações que transcendem as fronteiras ucranianas — um erro poderia desencadear um desastre radiológico afetando milhões de pessoas no Leste Europeu.
O que emerge desses pronunciamentos paralelos é um padrão familiar: cada lado projeta momentum enquanto preserva sua margem máxima de manobra. Os 'últimos 10 metros' de Kellogg podem ser tecnicamente precisos — mas são exatamente esses metros que concentram tudo aquilo que nenhum dos lados está disposto a abandonar.
Keith Kellogg, the American envoy tasked with brokering an end to the war in Ukraine, stood before an audience at Ronald Reagan's presidential library in California on Saturday and declared that peace was within reach. The conflict, he said, was in its "last 10 meters"—the hardest stretch of any negotiation. Only two major obstacles remained, Kellogg insisted: the future of the Donbas region and control of the Zaporizhzhia nuclear plant, Europe's largest, which Russian forces currently occupy.
The statement carried weight because Kellogg was preparing to leave his post in January, and because his boss, Donald Trump, has made ending this war a defining ambition of his presidency. Trump has positioned himself as a peacemaker, and the three-year conflict that erupted when Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022 has become his most elusive foreign policy goal. Kellogg's optimism suggested the administration believed it had finally cracked the code.
But the Kremlin's response, delivered through Putin's foreign policy advisor Yuri Ushakov, introduced a sharp note of discord. After Putin spent four hours in the Kremlin last week with Trump's envoys Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner—the president's son-in-law—Ushakov told Russian media that the United States would need to make "serious, I would say radical" changes to its proposals. He did not specify what those changes should be, leaving the statement as a demand wrapped in ambiguity.
The territorial question sits at the heart of the impasse. The Donbas, comprising the regions of Donetsk and Luhansk, has been the flashpoint since Russian-backed separatists began fighting Ukrainian forces there eight years before the full invasion. Today, Ukraine still controls roughly 5,000 square kilometers of the territory, yet Russia claims the entire region as its own. Most countries recognize the Donbas as Ukrainian soil.
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky has drawn a firm line. Surrendering the remainder of Donetsk without a referendum, he argued on Saturday, would be illegal and would hand Russia a staging ground for deeper incursions into Ukrainian territory. The logic is straightforward: a ceasefire that leaves Russian forces in place, with territorial gains locked in, could simply become a pause before the next offensive. Zelensky said he had spoken at length with Witkoff and Kushner, describing the conversation as "substantial," though he offered no details about what was discussed or what concessions, if any, he might consider.
The nuclear plant adds another layer of complexity. Zaporizhzhia has been a flashpoint for international concern since Russian forces seized it in March 2022. Its status in any peace agreement carries implications far beyond Ukraine's borders—a miscalculation or breach could trigger a radiological disaster affecting millions across Eastern Europe.
What emerges from these parallel statements is a familiar pattern: each side claims momentum while maintaining maximum flexibility. Kellogg's assertion that only two issues remain unresolved may be technically accurate, but those two issues are precisely the ones that have proven most intractable. Russia's demand for "radical" changes to American proposals suggests Moscow believes the current framework does not adequately secure its territorial ambitions. The Kremlin, through Ushakov, signaled that it expects Kushner to do the real work of negotiation—a pointed suggestion that Trump's family connection might carry more weight than official channels.
As Trump's diplomatic machinery continues to turn, with envoys shuttling between Washington, Moscow, and Kyiv, the question is whether these final 10 meters will be traversed through compromise or whether they represent a chasm that cannot be bridged without one side abandoning its core demands.
Citações Notáveis
If we can resolve these two issues, I think the rest of things will work out very well. We're almost there.— Keith Kellogg, U.S. envoy for Ukraine
The United States would need to make serious, radical changes to its proposals on Ukraine.— Yuri Ushakov, Putin's foreign policy advisor
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
When Kellogg says the deal is "very close," what does he actually mean? Is that diplomatic optimism or genuine proximity?
It's likely both. He's genuinely closer than they were months ago—there's real engagement happening. But "very close" in diplomacy often means "we've narrowed the disagreement to its hardest parts." The fact that only two issues remain doesn't mean they're easy; it means everything else has been cleared away, leaving the impossible questions exposed.
Why does Russia keep demanding "radical" changes without saying what they are?
It's a negotiating tactic. By staying vague, Moscow keeps the U.S. guessing and maintains leverage. If they named specific demands, they'd be locked into a position. Vagueness lets them respond to whatever the Americans propose by saying it's still not radical enough.
Zelensky's concern about a referendum—is that a real legal principle or a way to avoid giving up territory?
Both. Legally, he's right that ceding sovereign territory without a referendum would be constitutionally questionable in Ukraine. But he's also using that principle as a shield. A referendum would likely reject the surrender, so it's a way of saying no without appearing intransigent.
What does the Zaporizhzhia plant actually represent in these talks?
It's a hostage. Whoever controls it controls a potential catastrophe. Russia holding it gives them leverage—any agreement has to address what happens to it. It's not just territory; it's the ability to threaten Europe's energy security and environmental safety.
Why is Kushner suddenly so important to the Kremlin?
He's Trump's family, which in Trump's world means direct access and trust. The Kremlin is signaling that they don't trust the official diplomatic channels; they want to negotiate with someone they believe can actually commit Trump to a deal. Kushner represents the possibility of a handshake agreement that sticks.