Zelenskyy warns Egypt of food crisis as Russia rejects Black Sea ceasefire

On day 1,635 of the war, Volodymyr Zelenskyy reached across the Mediterranean to warn Egypt of a hunger that was coming. Ukraine feeds Egypt. It feeds much of Africa and the Middle East too—grain and other staples flowing through the Black Sea, a corridor that has become a battlefield. Russian strikes on cargo ships have begun to choke that supply. Prices are rising. Shortages loom. Zelenskyy posted the warning on social media, speaking directly to Egyptian president Abdel Fattah al-Sisi: the two countries had agreed to work on solutions, but the threat was real and immediate.

Moscow's response was to slam the door. On Friday, Russian foreign ministry spokesperson Maria Zakharova rejected any notion of a ceasefire in the Black Sea—even a limited one, even a temporary halt to attacks on civilian vessels. She called such proposals "half-measures," breathing room for the Kyiv regime. She accused Ukraine of terrorism against shipping. She said nothing of Russia's own strikes. Both sides, in fact, have been escalating attacks on commercial ships in recent weeks, driving world grain prices higher. Ukraine had made its ceasefire offer quietly, through intermediaries, hoping to reopen the grain corridor. Russia would not entertain it.

The war's reach extended into Poland this week, where Russian disinformation operatives have been working a different kind of damage. Using social media accounts in Polish, they have amplified a historical wound—the Volhynia massacres of 1943 to 1945, when Ukrainian insurgents killed roughly 100,000 Poles. The dispute between Warsaw and Kyiv had already intensified when Zelenskyy named an army unit after those same insurgents, prompting Poland's far-right president Karol Nawrocki to strip his Ukrainian counterpart of a top honor in June. Now Russian messaging was pouring fuel on that fire, trying to turn Poland—Ukraine's crucial ally—against both Kyiv and the refugees fleeing the war. Polish officials and researchers say the campaign is deliberate, timed to inflame tensions ahead of closely contested parliamentary elections in 2027, when opinion polls show support for the far-right growing.

Inside Russia, the war was beginning to pinch in unexpected ways. The government acknowledged Friday that fuel shortages had returned to several regions. Ukraine has been systematically attacking Russian oil refineries, degrading Moscow's capacity to wage war. This week, a major refinery at Orsk—1,300 kilometers from the frontline—was hit hard enough that Russia shut it down for six months. Oil companies scrambled to redirect supplies to the most vulnerable regions, but the tightness was real.

The human toll continued to accumulate. A Russian jet-powered drone struck a home in northern Ukraine, killing a 29-year-old woman and her 9-year-old son. July had been the deadliest month for Ukrainian civilians since the invasion's opening weeks—at least 437 killed and 2,610 wounded. Ukrainian drones, meanwhile, had targeted Russian infrastructure, including a major port north of Moscow. The violence was no longer confined to the frontline.

NATO airspace was being breached with regularity. Romania found a second drone in its territory on Friday, this one in the southeastern village of Plauru near the Danube border with Ukraine. The ministry did not say whose drone it was. Over four years, Russian drones have repeatedly crossed into Romanian airspace. The violations continue, and the alliance has not stopped them.

In Pyongyang, Vladimir Putin sent a message to Kim Jong-un marking the anniversary of Korea's liberation from Japanese rule. Moscow and Pyongyang were cooperating across all areas to ensure regional security and stability, Putin said. The two countries would continue their constructive joint work. Kim had visited Pyongyang's Liberation Tower to pay tribute to Soviet soldiers who fought Japan in the second world war. The message was clear: Russia was not isolated. It had friends, and they were watching.