NoorSadaNoorSada
Geopolitics

Shenzhen in November, Miami in December: who holds the pen on Ukraine

A Kremlin aide floats a Putin-Xi-Trump trilateral, concedes Washington cannot deliver Kyiv alone, and quietly rewrites the drafting table.

Speed:

Natasha Volkov
· 4 min read
Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin at a meeting at the Great Hall of the People · Photo: Russian Presidential Executive Office / Wikimedia Commons (CC BY 4.0)

Yury Ushakov said the quiet part on Sunday, in an interview with a Russian state broadcaster, and he said it with the composure of a man who has read the room three capitals ahead of everyone else. Preparations for a three-way summit of the Russian, Chinese and American presidents, he confirmed, have begun. Not scheduled. Not announced. Begun. The venue of political gravity, he suggested, is the Asia-Pacific summit in Shenzhen on 18-19 November. The G20 in Miami, he added almost as an afterthought, comes after.

Read that sequencing twice. The Kremlin's foreign policy aide has placed the Chinese-hosted forum first in the diary and the American-hosted forum second. That is not protocol. That is positioning.

My reading is that Ushakov made three admissions in a single interview, and each of them matters more than the trilateral choreography he was ostensibly selling.

The first admission is about Washington's reach. After the Alaska meeting between the Russian and American presidents in 2024, Moscow appears to have believed — or hoped — that the Trump administration could lean on Kyiv hard enough to produce a settlement. Ushakov now concedes, in careful bureaucratic Russian, that this calculation did not pay out. 'It seemed after Anchorage that the U.S. administration might be able to dictate something and force Kyiv to comply. But so far, this hasn't really worked out.' Translated from diplomatic: the American president cannot deliver the Ukrainian one, and the Kremlin has stopped pretending otherwise.

The second admission follows from the first. If Washington cannot bind Kyiv, then the party that can bind Kyiv is the party that funds, arms and politically underwrites Kyiv — and that party sits in European capitals, not on the Potomac. Hence Ushakov's new line: it is not enough to speak only to Kyiv; one must speak to 'the whole of Europe.' The accompanying irritation — that Europe is 'inclined to prolong the conflict' — is the tell. You do not complain about an actor you can ignore. You complain about an actor whose signature you need.

The third admission is the most interesting, and the one most likely to be missed. Ushakov said Moscow would support the idea of a dedicated European negotiator — the Finnish president's name has been floated — provided the envoy 'sincerely strives to facilitate a peaceful settlement.' The Kremlin spokesman echoed it. This is not generosity. It is a procedural manoeuvre. A single European interlocutor is easier to isolate, easier to flatter, easier to blame, and far easier to work around than twenty-seven foreign ministries with twenty-seven domestic parliaments. Moscow would like Europe at the table, yes — but at one chair, not at a horseshoe.

Stack these three admissions and the architecture becomes legible. The Russian offer, as it is being pre-wired for November, looks something like this: a headline trilateral in Shenzhen that gives Beijing co-ownership of the diplomatic frame; a bilateral Russia-US-Ukraine track to be resumed after 4 November, Russia's National Unity Day; and a European presence routed through a single named envoy rather than through the collective weight of the Union. Each layer is designed to dilute the one actor Moscow could not cow by force — the European coalition that has, by its own cheque-writing, kept Kyiv in the fight.

Who then holds the pen when a document is finally drafted? On current evidence, three hands reach for it. The American president, who wants a deal he can brand and a post-war commercial order in which, as he put it on Saturday, Washington does business with both Ukraine and Russia and recoups what he regards as unreimbursed support. The Chinese president, whose hosting of the first summit converts attendance into standing — the quiet dividend of being the venue. And the Russian president, who has spent eighteen months learning that bilateral pressure on Kyiv does not travel, and who now wants a format large enough to generate consensus and narrow enough to exclude the Europeans who would most resist it.

The Europeans, in this schema, are being invited to the signing, not to the drafting. The distinction is the entire story.

Two cautions before anyone extrapolates. Ushakov himself warned against expecting much from the first expert-level meeting; he called it exploratory. And a parallel American conversation — the president's weekend remark that he must choose between a deal with Iran and 'finishing it off' — is a reminder that this White House runs several high-stakes negotiations simultaneously, with the bandwidth and consistency that implies. A November summit can be announced and then shrunk to a handshake in a corridor. Preparation is not consummation.

What would prove this reading wrong? A European insistence, backed by a credible threat to withhold reconstruction financing, that no document is signed without an EU signature on the drafting page itself — not an envoy's initials, the Union's. If that line is drawn and held before Shenzhen, the Russian architecture falters. If it is not drawn, the Europeans will discover in December what they declined to insist on in October: that the room where a war ends is the room where the next order begins, and that chairs in that room are not distributed by the volume of one's prior contribution.