European leaders are celebrating having nudged U.S. President Donald Trump from exasperation to sympathy for Ukraine. But it will be a short-lived reprieve if they remain sidelined from renewed U.S.-Russia talks, or worse, if the quagmire in Iran and U.S. midterm elections divert Trump’s attention when Kyiv sees a fast-closing window to try to pressure Moscow to the table.

While credit is due for the Europeans’ deft diplomacy, Trump’s mood swing is underpinned by material changes that have taken place since he rolled out the red carpet for Russian President Vladimir Putin a year ago. Ukraine is no longer on the back foot, Europe has taken over as Kyiv’s main backer, and a distant payoff from resetting bilateral ties with Russia has sunk low on the president’s priority list.

Putin’s lack of a quick path to victory in the fifth year of war opens the possibility for talks, but also for escalation. The fear that Trump’s envoys will cut a destabilizing deal over Europeans’ heads is the driving force behind calls by a growing number of leaders to assert their right to a seat at the table. But France, Germany, and the UK have been seeking their own lines to the Kremlin because they recognize the need for guardrails and de-escalation mechanisms that do not go through the White House. To advance this cause, a coalition of Ukraine’s main European backers, expanded from the E3 to include Italy, Poland, and other willing nations, should nominate an envoy.

European divisions over when, who, and how to engage arise not only from well-founded mistrust of Putin but also an outdated apprehension about one another’s historical dealings with Russia. The Russian leader has made a mockery of French and German diplomacy since the start of the conflict in 2014, but that experience has shaped the continent’s imperfect yet definitive break from business with Russia, unprecedented military buildup, and paradigm-shifting unity on support for Ukraine since the 2022 full-scale invasion. Differences on Russia—while still important—are increasingly a question of degrees of deterrence. Europe should no longer seek to mediate, but rather assert interests that overlap with, or go beyond, Kyiv’s.

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky has pushed Europe to take a bigger role in talks, fearing U.S. distraction as diplomacy stagnated in February, just as he began doing “pretty well” at “holding his own,” according to Trump’s estimation. Bereft of access to the Starlink satellite internet system, Russian logistics are prey to mid-range drones, and Ukraine is exporting that know-how. Its deep strike campaign is causing such severe fuel shortages that Putin has been forced to address their impact. But Kyiv’s momentum may not last. Zelensky’s dismissal of a defense minister credited for Ukraine’s technological edge raises questions about that edge’s sustainability, and mobilization remains a major challenge. Russia may yet counter or replicate Kyiv’s advances. Come autumn, Ukraine’s chief concern will be how to survive another winter of Russian bombardment, with energy infrastructure still damaged and Patriot interceptor missiles scarce.

The Kremlin wants talks with Washington as long as it believes it can cut a favorable deal—or at least force Zelensky to consider unpopular concessions. But Russian officials have recently voiced frustration that Trump has not delivered on “the spirit of Anchorage,” a phrase they use to refer to what Russia asserts were territorial trade-offs agreed in principle at a Trump-Putin meeting in Alaska in August 2025. European leaders and diplomats worked hard to head that off. But while Russia has slammed U.S. support for Kyiv as incompatible with its mediation, it remains at pains not to criticize Trump. Calls with the White House afford Putin status and allow him to cast himself as peace-seeking.

Russia’s exclusion of Europeans from talks is based on a belief that the continent is subservient to Washington and that EU support for Ukraine will eventually crumble. That view is out of touch. As a result of Trump forcing Europeans to step up on Ukraine, they have gained leverage. Much of what the Kremlin wants from talks—sanctions relief, a veto over NATO deployments, and a limitation of military assistance to Ukraine—lies in Europe’s hands. Ukraine, meanwhile, has grown skeptical of U.S. security guarantees as part of a deal. It has improved its military position despite Trump cutting off military aid, and it increasingly relies on European backers. Europeans must also press Trump, who is well aware that his leverage has eroded relative to Europe’s, to demand their inclusion in any further diplomacy.

The road to overcoming Moscow’s reluctance to deal with Europeans is through more support for Kyiv, more pressure on Russia, and speedier rearmament. It is also crucial to speak to Russia with one voice. Europe’s military capabilities, political unity, and resolve are still insufficient to make it an indispensable interlocutor in the discussions on the continent’s security architecture that Putin has long desired. Yet, with a security and defense awakening underway, that status may finally be within reach.

Naming an envoy would put the ball in Russia’s court. Russians are feeling the bite of fuel shortages, a stagnating economy, and soaring inflation. Casualties outpace recruitment. Mobile internet blackouts belie claims of normality. Crimea has gone from tourist destination to depopulated wasteland. The CEO of state-owned Sberbank and a Russian fertilizer magnate are among a growing number of elites deploring the cost of the war. Proposed U.S. sanctions backed by Trump could deprive Russia of windfall energy revenues from the Iran war. The EU, meanwhile, clinched a deal on a sweeping twenty-first sanctions package, including a freeze to the bloc’s price cap on Russian crude oil for twelve months. Yet so far, Putin appears to be leaning toward hardliners calling for escalation.

The coming two months still offer a slim window for restarting talks. Whether they do so or not, Europeans cannot continue to rely exclusively on a White House that has swung intermittently from hostility, to support, to distraction as it manages diplomacy and escalation risks in the continent’s biggest land war since the Second World War.