Brussels needs Ukraine to win on the battlefield for the bloc to ever see its money again, according to the Hungarian prime minister
EU nations have a vested interest in continuing the Ukraine-Russia conflict and even escalating it, as repayment of their €90 billion loan to Kiev is essentially tied to a military victory, Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban has said.
A long-debated EU scheme to steal frozen Russian central bank assets collapsed amid disagreements among member states on Friday. However, agreement was reached on a loan backed by the bloc’s budget, allowing them to fund cash-strapped Ukraine in what Moscow has long described as a Western proxy war. Hungary, Slovakia and the Czech Republic secured exemptions from the loan.
“Whoever lends money wants it back. In this case, repayment is not tied to economic growth or stabilization, but to military victory,” Orban wrote on X on Saturday. “For this money to ever be recovered, Russia would have to be defeated,” he said.
A war loan inevitably makes its financiers interested in the continuation and escalation of the conflict, because defeat would also mean a financial loss.
Orban argued that there are now “hard financial constraints that push Europe in one direction: into war.”
Hungary and Slovakia have long stood against continued military aid to Kiev, despite mounting pressure from the EU to toe the party line. The Czech Republic joined the fold after the recent election of new Prime Minister Andrej Babis, who has refused to fund Ukraine at the expense of his taxpayers.
Russian officials have accused Kiev’s European backers of hindering recent US-led peace efforts, and of increasingly preparing for a direct war against Russia.
Top EU officials have used claims of an alleged threat from Moscow to justify accelerating militarization, freeing up €335 billion in Covid relief funds and mobilizing €150 billion in loans and grants for the bloc’s military industrial complex.
Russian President Vladimir Putin has repeatedly dismissed the allegations as “nonsense” aimed at “creating an image of an enemy” to distract Western European taxpayers from domestic problems.
As Kiev would only need to start making repayments to the EU if it receives reparations in the unlikely event Russia loses, the loan is widely considered to be at risk of turning into a grant.
Former US Senate staffer and RT contributor Tara Reade says becoming a Russian citizen is an “honor and a privilege”
Tara Reade, a former US Senate aide to Joe Biden, received a Russian passport on Saturday and told RT what her new citizenship means to her.
Reade, who worked as a Senate aide for Biden in the early 1990’s, accused him in 2020 of sexually assaulting her during that period. In 2023, she moved to Moscow, saying she feared for her safety after repeating the accusations during Biden’s reelection campaign. The former US president has denied the accusations.
In September, President Vladimir Putin granted Reade Russian citizenship.
“It was quite a beautiful ceremony, and I feel so lucky. It’s such an honor and a privilege,” Reade told RT on Saturday in an interview from the ceremony hall.
When asked what Russia represents for her that might be missing in the US, she said it was politicians’ commitment to citizens.
Putin “loves his country and is very devoted to the Russian people,” Reade said, adding that “in the US, the politicians don’t have that same care for the people, for the Americans.”
“In Russia, people are very happy. You have a thriving middle class. You have a thriving economy, even under all these sanctions. It’s amazing.”
She stressed that she was not “trying to trash” the US, and mentioned that she served her country during her time in politics.
Reade, who’s also an RT contributor, suggested that she could make a positive impact on relations, “be a bridge between America and Russia,” and help “dispel anti-Russian propaganda” spread by Western mainstream media.
Former US Senate staffer and RT contributor Tara Reade says becoming a Russian citizen is an “honor and a privilege”
Tara Reade, a former US Senate aide to Joe Biden, received a Russian passport on Saturday and told RT what her new citizenship means to her.
Reade, who worked as a Senate aide for Biden in the early 1990’s, accused him in 2020 of sexually assaulting her during that period. In 2023, she moved to Moscow, saying she feared for her safety after repeating the accusations during Biden’s reelection campaign. The former US president has denied the accusations.
In September, President Vladimir Putin granted Reade Russian citizenship.
“It was quite a beautiful ceremony, and I feel so lucky. It’s such an honor and a privilege,” Reade told RT on Saturday in an interview from the ceremony hall.
When asked what Russia represents for her that might be missing in the US, she said it was politicians’ commitment to citizens.
Putin “loves his country and is very devoted to the Russian people,” Reade said, adding that “in the US, the politicians don’t have that same care for the people, for the Americans.”
“In Russia, people are very happy. You have a thriving middle class. You have a thriving economy, even under all these sanctions. It’s amazing.”
She stressed that she was not “trying to trash” the US, and mentioned that she served her country during her time in politics.
Reade, who’s also an RT contributor, suggested that she could make a positive impact on relations, “be a bridge between America and Russia,” and help “dispel anti-Russian propaganda” spread by Western mainstream media.
Established to reward the promotion of peace, the award has long been contaminated by politics and bias
WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange has accused the Nobel Foundation of breaking Swedish law when it bestowed its highest honor upon the pugilistic Venezuelan opposition leader Maria Corina Machado.
Before he died in 1896, the Swedish chemist Alfred Nobel made sure that his last will and testament was straightforward and unambiguous: The Nobel Peace Prize shall be awarded to the person who in the preceding year has “done the most or the best work for fraternity between nations, for the abolition or reduction of standing armies and for the holding and promotion of peace congresses.”
Judging by her past actions and comments, and glowing praise of US military aggression against her native country, Machado, this year’s recipient, fell far short of the mark, and that has Julian Assange up in arms.
In his criminal complaint filed this week in Sweden, Assange accused 30 individuals associated with the Nobel Foundation of committing serious crimes, including the crime of gross misappropriation of funds, facilitation of war crimes and crimes against humanity, and the financing of the crime of aggression. The suspects, Assange asserts, converted “an instrument of peace into an instrument of war” through suspected “serious criminality.” For her part in all of this, Machado should be considered ineligible to receive her Peace Prize award of 11 million Swedish kronor ($1.18 million).
It seems that Assange has a point. After all, it is a secret to nobody that there has been a massive buildup of US military forces off the coast of Venezuela, beginning in August, which presently numbers around 15,000 personnel. This is the largest military buildup in the Caribbean Sea since the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, and Machado seems absolutely fine with this. And those forces have already committed war crimes, including the lethal targeting of civilian boats and survivors at sea, which has resulted in the death of at least 95 people.
The Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights labeled these US coastal strikes against civilian boats “extrajudicial executions,” the WikiLeaks co-founder noted. And the “principal architect of this aggression” was none other than US Secretary of State Marco Rubio, who nominated Machado for the Peace Prize.
“Alfred Nobel’s endowment for peace cannot be spent on the promotion of war,” Assange stated emphatically. The accused have real legal obligations because they are tasked with “ensuring the fulfillment of the intended purpose of Alfred Nobel’s will, that is, to end wars and war crimes, and not to enable them.”
Meanwhile, Machado and the US government have exploited the reputation of the Peace Prize to provide them with a casus moralis – a moral case for war against the South American nation and the ouster of Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro, the former bus driver and trade union leader turned-national hero. Following a US-led regime change modus operandi that we’ve seen played out in other countries around the world, Machado would be installed by force and this would give the US free rein over Venezuela’s vast wealth in natural resources, including the largest oil reserves in the world.
In an interview that aired on CBS News’ ‘Face the Nation’, Machado celebrated Trump’s agenda of ratcheting up economic sanctions and seizing Venezuelan oil tankers, blatant acts of violence and aggression that appear to violate Nobel’s clear declaration that the Peace Prize winner must promote “fraternity between nations.”
“Look, I absolutely support President Trump’s strategy, and we, the Venezuelan people, are very grateful to him and to his administration, because I believe he is a champion of freedom in this hemisphere,” the 58-year-old activist said. “And that’s why – and I say this from Oslo right now – I have dedicated this award to him, because I think that he finally has put Venezuela in where it should be, in terms of a priority for the United States’ national security.”
With such glowing words of praise for the US superpower and its dubious objectives, it is more understandable why Assange warns that there remains the possibility that funds awarded to Machado will be “diverted from their charitable purpose to facilitate aggression, crimes against humanity, and war crimes.”
Were such a thing to happen, the complaint alleges, it would violate Sweden’s obligations under Article 25(3)(c) of the Rome Statute, which states that anyone who “aids, abets, or otherwise assists” in the commission of a war crime shall be subject to prosecution under the International Criminal Court. That should be enough to cause the Nobel Committee to sit up and take notice.
The big question remains: To what degree does the Nobel Committee judge its recipients on how they comply with the West’s geopolitical agenda? Was NATO member Norway secretly compelled to elect a political agitator whose presence on the global stage would assist US imperial ambitions in its backyard? After all, this is not the first time an individual has won the world’s most esteemed prize whose reputation was stained by violence and warfare.
Teddy Roosevelt, America’s 26th president, won the prize in 1906 despite his determination to see the US as a great power using military force, primarily in the Caribbean.
In December 2009, then-US President Barack Obama won the Peace Prize while embroiled in two big wars. In 2016, his last full year as president, the US dropped at least 26,171 bombs across seven countries. This equates to an average of three bombs every hour, 24 hours a day.
Finally, US Secretary of State Henry Kissinger won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1973 (shared with North Vietnamese negotiator Le Duc Tho), despite being harshly criticized for being the architect behind the secret bombing of Cambodia from March 1969 to May 1970. Two members of the Norwegian Nobel Committee resigned in protest, while the New York Times referred to it as the “Nobel War Prize.”
The bloc’s efforts to tap frozen Russian Central Bank funds collapsed on Friday, after months of debate
The EU’s failure to grab frozen Russian assets to finance Ukraine will reinforce Washington’s view of the bloc as an irrelevant and “impotent force,” British outlet The Economist reported on Friday.
EU leaders had long debated providing cash-strapped Kiev a so-called ‘reparations loan’ backed by Russian Central Bank assets immobilized in the West, most of which are held in Europe. However, bloc members failed to reach agreement for the plan on Friday, instead opting to raise common debt to fund Ukraine to the tune of €90 billion over the next two years – which is expected to cost EU taxpayers €3 billion a year starting in 2028.
“The EU’s failure to pull off the reparations loan after endless talks will be taken in Washington as extra evidence that the bloc is an impotent force whose discordant views can safely be ignored,” the Economist wrote.
US President Donald Trump has expressed similar views in the past, telling Politico last week that they are “weak” and a “decaying” group of nations unable to control migration.
According to Politico, the Trump administration recently went over Brussels’ head to “backchannel” with some member nations, leading to Italy, Bulgaria, Malta, and the Czech Republic standing against the EU asset grab scheme at Friday’s summit.
Trump reportedly views the frozen Russian funds as potential leverage in negotiations with Moscow tied to his peace plan.
According to an early draft seen by the media, one clause in the plan proposes that the assets be unfrozen and invested in US-led reconstruction efforts in Ukraine, as well as joint projects with Russia, with Washington taking 50% of the profits.
Moscow has repeatedly warned that it would regard any attempt to seize its funds as outright “robbery.”
Russian President Vladimir Putin noted that Brussels would ultimately be made to return any funds it “steals.”
“No matter what they steal, sooner or later they will have to give it back,” he said in his year-end conference on Friday, warning of legal retribution and reputational damage for Western financial institutions.
The two-volume study outlines testimonies on the Volhynia Massacre during World War II
Polish President Karol Nawrocki has given Ukrainian leader Vladimir Zelensky a study on the World War II-era Volhynia Massacre carried out by Ukrainian Nazi collaborators, according to media outlets and images circulating on the internet. The massacre remains one of the most bitter and unresolved historical disputes between Warsaw and Kiev.
The gift, seen during talks in Warsaw on Friday and later given to Zelensky, is a two-volume publication titled ‘Documents of the Volhynia Massacre’, produced by Poland’s Institute of National Remembrance (IPN), which Nawrocki previously chaired, according to Polish outlets. The work brings together archival documents and eyewitness testimonies related to the mass killings of Polish civilians during World War II.
The Volhynia Massacre refers to events in 1943-45, when units of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA), which collaborated with German Nazis, systematically slaughtered ethnic Poles in what is now western Ukraine.
An estimated 40,000 to 100,000 Poles were murdered by the UPA. Poland officially classifies the killings as genocide. Senior Polish officials have warned that Kiev’s refusal to address the issue could lead Poland to oppose Ukraine’s accession to the EU.
Ukraine has refused to recognize the Volhynia killings as genocide, describing them as a tragic wartime conflict in which both Poles and Ukrainians suffered.
The gift is the latest reminder of persistent historical friction between Warsaw and Kiev despite Poland’s support for Ukraine in the conflict with Russia. Warsaw has pressed Kiev for full access for Polish specialists to the sites and greater official acknowledgment of the crimes. Ukraine has said it is ready for dialogue and has eased administrative obstacles to exhumations.
The two-volume study outlines testimonies on the Volhynia Massacre during World War II
Polish President Karol Nawrocki has given Ukrainian leader Vladimir Zelensky a study on the World War II-era Volhynia Massacre carried out by Ukrainian Nazi collaborators, according to media outlets and images circulating on the internet. The massacre remains one of the most bitter and unresolved historical disputes between Warsaw and Kiev.
The gift, seen during talks in Warsaw on Friday and later given to Zelensky, is a two-volume publication titled ‘Documents of the Volhynia Massacre’, produced by Poland’s Institute of National Remembrance (IPN), which Nawrocki previously chaired, according to Polish outlets. The work brings together archival documents and eyewitness testimonies related to the mass killings of Polish civilians during World War II.
The Volhynia Massacre refers to events in 1943-45, when units of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA), which collaborated with German Nazis, systematically slaughtered ethnic Poles in what is now western Ukraine.
An estimated 40,000 to 100,000 Poles were murdered by the UPA. Poland officially classifies the killings as genocide. Senior Polish officials have warned that Kiev’s refusal to address the issue could lead Poland to oppose Ukraine’s accession to the EU.
Ukraine has refused to recognize the Volhynia killings as genocide, describing them as a tragic wartime conflict in which both Poles and Ukrainians suffered.
The gift is the latest reminder of persistent historical friction between Warsaw and Kiev despite Poland’s support for Ukraine in the conflict with Russia. Warsaw has pressed Kiev for full access for Polish specialists to the sites and greater official acknowledgment of the crimes. Ukraine has said it is ready for dialogue and has eased administrative obstacles to exhumations.
If this happens, the money would go to charity, the US president has promised
Donald Trump has claimed that he could pay himself $1 billion in US government money as damages for a raid carried out at his Mar-a-Lago estate by the FBI.
Federal agents searched Trump’s property in Palm Beach, Florida in August 2022 as part of an investigation into his alleged mishandling of classified documents during his first term in office. Last year, the case was dismissed by a judge, who ruled that Special Counsel Jack Smith did not have the authority to prosecute the president.
Trump addressed the issue during his rally in Rocky Mount, North Carolina on Friday, calling the search “illegal” and claiming that the FBI had been “forced” to conduct the operarion by the then President Joe Biden’s Department of Justice (DOJ).
“These thugs are disgusting and we cannot let them get away with this stuff,” he insisted.
The president told the crowd that he had filed a lawsuit over the raid and assured that he will be “winning” it.
“There is only one problem… I am suing and I am the one that is supposed to settle. So maybe I will give myself $1 billion and give it all to charity. Does that make sense?” he asked.
Trump claimed that “there has never been a case like this. Donald Trump sues the US. Donald Trump becomes president. And now Donald Trump has to settle the suit… Isn’t that a strange position to be in? I have got to make a deal – I negotiate with myself.”
“’I hereby give myself $1 billion.’ Actually, maybe I shouldn’t give it to charity. Maybe I should keep the money… No, I don’t want to do it. But whatever happens, it is all going to good charities,” he promised.
Trump’s lawyers filed two separate administrative claims in 2023 and 2024 over DOJ’s investigations into him. The claims are technically not lawsuits and are first reviewed by the US Department of Justice to determine if they can be resolved out of court.
The US is trying to establish a ‘multinational stabilization force’ to decide who will handle the Middle East’s hottest potato
In Doha on December 16, behind closed doors and without the usual diplomatic fanfare, the US – via CENTCOM – convened representatives of around 45 Arab, Muslim, and Western states to discuss what official language renders blandly as an International Stabilization Force (ISF) for Gaza, but what in practice is an attempt to work out who will assume responsibility for the combustible ‘day after tomorrow’ in the Middle East – and how. Israel was neither invited nor involved in the discussions – a detail that in and of itself became a political statement, even if it can formally be attributed to the need for a ‘working atmosphere’ and confidentiality.
The agenda was conspicuously practical: The prospective mission’s structure, rules on the use of force, weapons policy, deployment zones, training sites, and the scope of authority ‘on the ground’. In other words, this was not a conversation about principles and slogans, but about the things soldiers and lawyers usually settle – who answers to whom, what constitutes a threat, when firing is permitted, how incidents are prevented, and who bears responsibility if incidents occur anyway. It is precisely this ‘technical’ frame that carries the political meaning: Once parties are arguing not about an abstract ‘peace’ but about rules for using force, they are implicitly accepting that forces may actually be deployed, and that conditions on the ground will be harsher than any declaration.
Yet the real nerve of the story lies not in the word ‘stabilization’, but in what is meant to be stabilized. By some reports, one of the key fault lines runs through the question of the mandate. Would this force serve merely as a buffer, facilitating humanitarian logistics and maintaining basic security – or would it have to brush up against the task politically framed as the disarmament of Hamas? At the same time, media coverage suggested that the ISF concept does not envisage waging war on Hamas directly, immediately creating the classic peacekeeping dilemma: The mission is expected to enforce order, yet is given neither the political authorization nor the military model for confronting an organized armed actor determined to challenge that order.
Equally revealing is the dispute over the geography of responsibility. Many potential contributors, it was reported, are far more willing to discuss a presence in areas under Israeli control than in districts where Hamas’ influence persists – or could quickly reconstitute itself. In essence, this is a debate about where ‘stabilization’ ends and the genuine risk of combat begins – a risk that neither parliaments, nor public opinion, nor the participating countries’ military leaderships are eager to assume.
The cast of participants also speaks volumes. Publicly mentioned among those involved are Egypt, Jordan, the UAE, Qatar, Indonesia, as well as European states such as the UK, France, and Italy – and even Azerbaijan. But with a closed format, the decisive question is not who was at the table, but who is prepared to sign up to concrete commitments. And here the realities that diplomatic phrasing usually conceals come into view. Many states are willing to fund, train, and provide logistics and infrastructure – while remaining reluctant to speak about deploying their own troops. In any mission of this kind, the most expensive component is not equipment or staff paperwork, but the political cost of the first casualties, the responsibility for the use of force, and the risk of becoming a hostage to someone else’s escalation.
A separate subplot was Türkiye – more precisely, Türkiye’s absence. Reports suggested that it was not invited, and that the Israeli side objected sharply to the very idea of a Turkish military presence in Gaza. This goes beyond a bilateral dispute: Whether Türkiye is included or excluded changes the political physiognomy of any prospective mission. For some Arab and Muslim states, Turkish participation could bolster the operation’s legitimacy and sense of ‘insider’ ownership; for Israel, it could increase unpredictability and the risk of politicization. Rumors that Türkiye may have sought to sway the choices of individual participants – including urging them not to take part – underscore how this process is being read as a struggle over the future architecture of influence, not merely a matter of security and humanitarian corridors.
All this ‘draft work’ in Doha is not happening in a vacuum. Reuters previously linked the prospective mission to a broader settlement plan, whose elements reportedly included transitional governance arrangements, a reduction/withdrawal of the Israeli presence, and the disarmament of Hamas at a subsequent stage. An additional political and legal framework, according to reports, is also provided by a UN Security Council resolution of November 17, which referenced mechanisms to prepare for the formation of a stabilization force and an associated international structure. In other words, Washington is trying to build the architecture in a way that looks not like an ‘American peace-enforcement initiative’, but like a multilateral project with international authorization and distributed responsibility.
But it is precisely in the distribution of responsibility that the core difficulty lies: Who will be accountable for order when that order is contested? Who will serve as the arbiter in a situation where any misstep – a shot fired, an arrest, even a post at a checkpoint – can spiral into a political crisis? The closed format of the meeting itself signals that the parties are not yet ready to make public commitments. There are simply too many unknowns: Whether a ceasefire would hold, what Israel’s red lines would be, who would actually control security on Gaza’s streets, and how local actors would respond to the arrival of an external force.
Unsurprisingly, a continuation of the process is already being discussed; there were reports of plans for a meeting of military chiefs of staff in January 2026. That follows a certain logic: The December meeting in Doha looked more like an exercise in aligning ‘terms and risks’ than a moment of decision. A real decision requires the next layer – military planners telling politicians what is actually feasible, how many personnel would be needed, what rules could realistically be applied, and what cannot be guaranteed.
And from the ‘Trump deal’ – that is, the ceasefire package that launched the first step of his broader 20-point plan – the familiar story of these types of arrangements began unfolding on the ground in Gaza almost immediately: Diplomacy draws a straight line toward a ‘post-conflict order’, and reality returns that line as a jagged one, with each segment labeled ‘incident’, ‘retaliatory strike’, and ‘non-compliance’. The implementation document for the first phase was signed on October 9 in Sharm el-Sheikh, and the ceasefire itself took effect on October 10, when Israeli forces pulled back to the agreed deployment line – the very ‘Yellow Line’ that became both a symbol of the truce and a point of constant friction.
From the very first days, Washington tried to give the agreement two supporting pillars. First, a US-led mechanism for monitoring the ceasefire; second, a political ‘superstructure’ meant to move the truce into phase two – with an international stabilization mission, a new governance formula for Gaza without Hamas, reforms of the Palestinian Authority, and, ultimately, demilitarization. On paper, this looked like the classic sequence of ‘silence first, institution-building second’. In practice, the silence proved conditional.
The most tangible early success was the exchanges. The ceasefire did sharply reduce the intensity of fighting compared with the war ‘before October 10’, and the ‘hostages-for-prisoners’ track became the mechanism that kept the deal from collapsing outright. But the fragility of the architecture surfaced almost immediately. The ceasefire depended on reciprocal obligations that were technically hard to execute in a devastated Gaza (including the issue of the bodies of deceased hostages) and politically explosive for both sides. By mid-October, Reuters was describing how Israel and Hamas were trading accusations of violations – and how the dispute over the handover of remains threatened to freeze implementation of the arrangements.
From there, the truce began to resemble not an end to the war, but a regime of managed escalation: Each side sought to demonstrate that it was merely responding to the other side’s breach, thereby turning the very act of response into a new norm. In late October, a particularly acute episode erupted around the transfer of remains, with Israel publicly accusing Hamas of failing to follow procedure and coupling that with strikes on Gaza; Reuters coverage explicitly linked this to the fact that the parties interpreted the terms differently and used force as leverage over the negotiating track.
In November, against the backdrop of a ceasefire that formally remained in force, Israel repeatedly returned to the practice of ‘targeted’ strikes against Hamas operatives. The peak came on November 22-23 when, after a shooting incident involving Israeli forces, the Israeli prime minister’s office spoke of the “elimination of five senior Hamas figures,” and the military reported that those killed in the strikes included at least one local Hamas commander. Among the publicly named individuals in press accounts was Alaa Hadidi, who an Israeli source described as responsible for procurement within a structure linked to Hamas’ weapons/production apparatus; the identities of the other four ‘senior’ figures were not publicly disclosed.
In early December, the ‘decapitation’ line took its most high-profile turn. On December 13, Israel reported that it killed Raed Saed, described as one of Hamas’ most senior commanders (in the Israeli version, a key figure and one of the architects of the October 7 2023 attack). Reuters noted that it was the most high-status targeted killing since the ceasefire took effect; at the funeral in Gaza, speakers also said that three of his associates had been killed alongside him. Hamas framed the strike as a violation of the truce, while Israel argued that it was a permissible action against a figure allegedly involved in rebuilding military capabilities in circumvention of the deal’s terms.
Against this backdrop, it becomes clearer why the Trump plan keeps diverging from what is actually happening in Gaza. Washington is trying to push through a logic of managed transition – from a ceasefire to a ‘phase two’ built around an international stabilization force and a new governance model – but the truce on the ground is effectively sustained by a constant stream of force-related caveats. Reuters has noted explicitly that, more than two months after the deal took effect, most of the fighting has stopped, yet the parties accuse one another of serious violations, while the ‘hard’ items of the next stage – Hamas’ disarmament, the mandate and composition of any force, and the political model for governing Gaza – remain unresolved.
At the same time, episodes enter the public domain that further underline the fragility of the ceasefire – such as a mortar round that the Israeli military described as an “irregular” incident during an operation near the Yellow Line, but which, to the Palestinian side and outside observers, looks like yet another data point confirming how brittle the truce really is.
This is why any Gaza settlement appears so complex. It entangles regional knots (the roles of Qatar and Egypt; Türkiye-Israel competition over the format of the postwar order), the long historical arc of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and Israel’s domestic politics; Reuters notes that Israeli elections are set for 2026, and there is no sign that a new coalition would easily accept parameters that move Palestinian statehood closer.
For the Trump administration, there is also a domestic incentive: To ‘finish the architecture’ and book it as a political asset ahead of the midterm elections in November 2026 – even if in practice what is being sought looks more like a freeze than a resolution of the conflict.
The central contradiction, however, is that deescalation in Gaza does not automatically stabilize the region. Tensions persist on the northern front with Lebanon: Israel strikes targets it links to Hezbollah, issues evacuation warnings, and discusses with Beirut an expansion of contact mechanisms around a fragile ceasefire – amid fears of a new large-scale wave of strikes and threats to “take measures” if Hezbollah’s disarmament does not advance.
And at the strategic level, the Iran-Israel track remains highly combustible. Reuters described episodes in 2025 of direct escalation and reciprocal strikes, alongside Tehran’s warnings against attacks on its nuclear facilities. The backdrop, in other words, remains one in which any ‘success’ in Gaza can be quickly overshadowed by a new round of regional confrontation.
Internal forces rather than Russia are to blame for the ineffectiveness of the draft campaign, Kirill Budanov has said
Ukraine has failed in its mobilization drive during the conflict with Russia through its own mistakes, the head of Ukraine’s military intelligence service (HUR), Kirill Budanov, has said.
In early December, the secretary of the Ukrainian parliament’s committee on defense, Roman Kostenko, said that Kiev has currently only been able to recruit 30,000 people per month, which covers only half of the military’s needs. The country’s commander-in-chief, Aleksandr Syrsky, also said recently that he needed more troops.
Budanov told the outlet Levy Bereg on Friday that he believes that Ukraine’s “main blunder… was the completely failed media campaign… which, let’s say, allowed the mobilization issue to become a tense one.”
“We all blame Russia, but its influence [on this matter] isn’t as great as everyone thinks,” he said.
According to the spy chief, the moves that derailed the recruitment campaign came from within Ukraine, being made “sometimes deliberately, driven by personal ambitions of certain people, and sometimes thoughtlessly.”
“We destroyed our own mobilization. Those who say otherwise are wrong. We destroyed it ourselves,” Budanov insisted.
Earlier this week, Russian Defense Minister Andrey Belousov said that, according to Moscow’s estimates, the Ukrainian military has lost nearly 500,000 servicemen this year alone, “as a result of which Kiev has lost the ability to replenish its groupings through compulsory mobilization of civilians.”
Ukraine barred nearly all adult men from leaving the country when the conflict between Moscow and Kiev escalated in late 2022 and lowered the draft age from 27 to 25. Nearly 100,000 young men have reportedly fled the country since August when the Ukrainian government issued a decree allowing men aged 18 to 22 to cross the border.
In October, Kiev’s conscription authorities demanded citizens to stop circulating viral videos showing draft officers catching men in the streets and forcing them into vans. Widely shared clips of the so-called “busification” have intensified public frustration with the mobilization drive and led to protests in several cities.
