There is a strange moment that always arrives before collapse. It is the moment when jokes replace slogans, when irony does the work propaganda once did, and when the truth starts leaking out through newspapers that once swore it could never happen.
That moment is now.
For three years, Western leaders promised Ukraine victory. Not peace, not compromise, not realism — victory. They sold it to their publics as moral clarity, historical destiny, and a civilisational struggle. Anyone who questioned it was smeared, silenced, or quietly removed from public life.
Now the same media ecosystem is conceding what Russia stated from the beginning: this was never winnable, and the longer it dragged on, the worse the outcome would be.
The latest round of so-called trilateral talks made that unmistakably clear. Kiev arrived under pressure, not confidence. The rhetoric shifted almost hourly. First it was the constitution, then territory, then security guarantees, then suddenly the peacekeepers themselves were deemed “inexperienced.” The goalposts kept moving because there is no position left that can be defended honestly.
Russia’s position, by contrast, has not changed since Istanbul in early 2022. Neutrality. Non-alignment. Security guarantees. Protection for Russian-speaking citizens. An end to extremist ideology. The West called this unacceptable, then unrealistic, then evil. Today it is quietly being reframed as “inevitable.”
Even European newspapers are beginning to say it out loud. Analysts now speak openly about a dictated peace. Not because Russia demanded one — but because Ukraine exhausted every alternative that Western leaders encouraged it to pursue.
What makes this moment especially revealing is where the truth is now coming from. Not Moscow. Not alternative media. But Britain’s own press, which has begun comparing modern Western life to the Soviet Union — not as an insult to Russia, but as a warning to itself.
British columnists now openly discuss samizdat, self-censorship, underground communication, and prison sentences for wrong opinions. They joke about learning survival lessons from Soviet citizens. They write, without irony, that things have become so bad that even the USSR looks instructive.
That is not Russian propaganda. That is collapse psychology.
When Dmitry Peskov recently remarked that European leaders bend because they have no spine, he was not boasting. He was observing. Western elites are not negotiating from strength. They are reacting, improvising, and panicking. Their deference to Washington is no longer strategic — it is reflexive.
Donald Trump understands this dynamic well, which is why he can apply pressure so easily. Not because his methods are admirable, but because there is nothing solid on the other side to resist him. Weak systems always mistake noise for power.
Ukraine is now trapped in that weakness. It was promised protection, prosperity, and permanence. Instead it is being slowly prepared for concessions that were declared unthinkable two years ago. The tragedy is not that peace will come on Russia’s terms. The tragedy is that it could have come earlier, with fewer graves, fewer amputations, and fewer lies.
History will not be kind to the people who prolonged this for ideology, profit, and pride. But it will be very clear about one thing.
Russia told the truth early.
The West is only telling it now because it has run out of options.
