Talks in Oslo have restored diplomatic contact between Kyiv and Washington, but Donald Trump continues to demand concessions from Ukraine while Moscow shows little willingness to compromise. Steve Witkoff’s forthcoming meeting with Russian officials will expose the limits of the American peace initiative.

The latest negotiations over Russia’s war against Ukraine have produced a renewed diplomatic initiative, with US presidential envoy Steve Witkoff preparing to travel to St Petersburg on Wednesday, 21 October, following consultations with Ukrainian and European leaders in Oslo.

President Volodymyr Zelenskyy met Witkoff alongside Norwegian Prime Minister Jonas Gahr Støre and Finnish President Alexander Stubb on Tuesday. Jared Kushner, Donald Trump’s son-in-law, participated remotely. The discussions covered territorial questions, security guarantees, sanctions and proposals for a partial ceasefire.

The meeting concluded with cautious expressions of optimism. Stubb suggested that the negotiating process was back on track, while Støre confirmed that Witkoff would present proposals developed by American, Ukrainian and European representatives to the Russian leadership.

However, the diplomatic improvement contrasts with Trump’s renewed public pressure on Zelenskyy, raising questions about Washington’s negotiating strategy and whether Moscow has any intention of accepting the proposed settlement.

Washington’s contradictory signals

Speaking in the Oval Office on Tuesday, Trump again insisted that Ukraine must reach an agreement with Russia, portraying Moscow’s military position as increasingly advantageous.

His remarks closely resembled arguments advanced during earlier disputes with Zelenskyy, when Washington pressed Kyiv to accept territorial concessions rather than increase pressure on the Kremlin.

Meanwhile, Secretary of State Marco Rubio sought to reassure the Ukrainian leadership that American military cooperation had not been deliberately restricted.

Rubio denied that Trump had ordered changes to intelligence-sharing or weapons assistance. Zelenskyy subsequently confirmed that Ukraine was again receiving American early-warning intelligence concerning Russian ballistic missile attacks.

Nevertheless, serious problems remain. Ukraine has reported delays in deliveries of American-made Patriot interceptors purchased by European allies, while restrictions affecting the military Starshield satellite communications system have not been fully resolved.

These difficulties are particularly serious as Russia intensifies attacks against Ukrainian electricity infrastructure, attempting to undermine civilian services ahead of winter.

The conflicting signals leave Kyiv negotiating with an administration whose diplomatic representatives promise continued cooperation while its president publicly demands Ukrainian concessions.

Security guarantees without NATO membership

Among the proposals discussed in Oslo were security arrangements intended to provide Ukraine with protection comparable to NATO’s Article 5 collective-defence provision.

Zelenskyy acknowledged that American representatives had discussed such guarantees, although their precise obligations and enforcement mechanisms remain undisclosed.

The proposal presents a fundamental negotiating problem.

Russia has consistently opposed Ukrainian NATO membership, partly because the alliance’s collective-defence commitments would increase the consequences of any renewed Russian aggression.

An alternative arrangement offering genuinely comparable protection would consequently encounter many of the same Russian objections.

Conversely, guarantees lacking a credible enforcement mechanism would leave Ukraine exposed to another attack after a ceasefire.

Moscow’s record provides little reassurance. Russia violated Ukraine’s internationally recognised borders in 2014 and launched its full-scale invasion in 2022 despite previous commitments to respect Ukrainian sovereignty.

The Kremlin’s objectives extend beyond territory

Washington’s approach appears increasingly concentrated on securing an agreement involving territorial concessions and restrictions on Ukraine’s future security arrangements.

Yet Putin’s objectives have consistently extended beyond the territories occupied by Russian forces.

The Kremlin has demanded constraints on Ukraine’s military capabilities, international alliances and strategic independence. Accepting territorial gains alone would not necessarily satisfy Moscow’s wider political ambitions.

Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov has maintained that Moscow is unwilling to make substantial political concessions, while the Kremlin continues to insist that any agreement must address what it describes as the underlying causes of the conflict.

Those conditions have previously included demands that would substantially restrict Ukraine’s sovereignty.

Consequently, even a Ukrainian willingness to consider elements of Washington’s proposals would not guarantee Russian acceptance.

The political calculation behind an energy ceasefire

One possibility under consideration is a limited ceasefire protecting energy and potentially food-related infrastructure.

Zelenskyy has indicated that Ukraine could suspend attacks against Russian energy facilities if Moscow stopped striking Ukrainian infrastructure.

Such an arrangement could reduce immediate civilian suffering. It would also have military and economic consequences.

Ukrainian attacks against Russian refineries, oil terminals and other energy installations have increasingly targeted infrastructure supporting Moscow’s war economy.

A temporary suspension could allow Russia to repair damaged facilities, restore production and stabilise export revenues. Without credible monitoring and enforcement, Moscow could exploit a limited agreement while leaving the wider conflict unresolved.

Trump has additional reasons to seek a rapid diplomatic result. With American congressional elections scheduled for 3 November, his administration is attempting to contain domestic fuel prices and demonstrate progress towards ending the war.

His recent decision to ease restrictions on Russian diesel exports has already provoked concern in Kyiv and European capitals over the potential financial benefits to Moscow.

The danger for Ukraine is that an agreement presented as a diplomatic achievement in Washington could provide Russia with economic relief without altering its military objectives.

The decision awaiting Washington

Witkoff’s visit to St Petersburg will establish whether Moscow is prepared to engage with the proposals developed in Oslo.

Putin could accept a temporary arrangement, particularly one suspending Ukrainian strikes on Russian energy infrastructure, while postponing discussions over territorial and political questions.

Alternatively, Moscow could reject the initiative and maintain its existing demands.

In either case, Washington will face a decision over the consequences of Russian intransigence.

For Kyiv, continued engagement with the United States remains essential because American intelligence, satellite communications and advanced air-defence weapons cannot readily be replaced.

But the prospects for a negotiated settlement will depend less on further Ukrainian concessions than on whether Russia faces sufficient political, military and economic pressure to abandon its maximalist demands.

The Oslo negotiations have restored cooperation between Ukraine, Europe and American mediators. They have not established that Putin is prepared to end the war on terms compatible with Ukraine’s continued independence.

My name is Darina,” says an elfin teen, ponytail pulled through the back of her cap, and “next year I’ll be earning 150,000 rubles (nearly $2,000) a month.” Darina works at what she calls “the world’s largest drone factory,” helping to assemble versions of the Iranian Shahed drone. “My parents are proud of me. Wanna do the same?” She asks as she advertises a polytechnic in Tatarstan. The Russian government, in the face of war and looming demographic disaster, has been relaxing child labor laws since 2022, making it easier to put 14-year-olds to work. Now, legislators are open about the need to reform “outdated” restrictions on employing minors in industries that were “considered dangerous 20 years ago.” Drone production is not the only part of the war effort to which teenagers are being recruited. This month in a “content camp” in Moscow, soldiers and state media propagandists trained 120-plus teens on how to make videos, use AI, and grow their audiences as aspiring influencers. Vladislav Golovin, a former soldier and a leader of Russia’s Young Army Cadets National Movement, said the program had “created a huge team of kids who understand how to broadcast government values.” 

But many young people, subject to year-round conscription, subject to internet shut downs and subject to surveillance, have little desire to spread propaganda. Instead, according to Google Trends data, growing numbers of Russians are seeking information on how to emigrate. A new exodus would accelerate Russia’s deep demographic crisis. Already, up to a million people are thought to have left Russia since the full scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. According to one recent count, nearly 210,000 Russian soldiers have been killed in the war with Ukraine, with other estimates suggesting over 1.2 million casualties, including 325,000 deaths. And Russian fertility rates are the lowest they have been for 200 years. Anton Kotyakov, the labor minister, has told Vladimir Putin that the country faces a labor shortage of 11 million people by 2030.

So concerning is this crisis that Rosstat, the national statistics agency, has stopped publishing monthly demographic data. State officials and local governors have been told to compete to come up with the most innovative solutions to a seemingly intractable problem. The pressure on Russian officials and the Kremlin is leading to desperate measures, including guidance from the Russian health ministry that women who say they do not want to have children should be referred to a psychologist. Nothing the Russian state has tried has worked, from financial incentives (extended even to schoolgirls under 18) to banning advertising that supposedly promotes “child-free” lifestyles and so-called “LGBTQ propaganda.”   

Alongside “anti-woke” policies disguised as family values, is rising xenophobia and anti-immigrant rhetoric that has led to a marked decline in the number of foreigners living in Russia. The Kremlin’s anti-migrant policies include a new system to monitor migrant workers through biometric registration, location tracking, and intensified police oversight. The Russian parliament is currently debating enhancing the number of offences that can be punished by deportation or substantially increased fines. Much of it is targeted at Russia’s Central Asian migrants who make up an overwhelming majority of immigrant labor. Some Central Asian governments, notably Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, have now urged their citizens to think twice about going to Russia for work. 

Russia has been publicizing political stunts such as its “shared values visa” in which applicants from 46, largely developed, nations are given temporary residence permits if they profess to support “traditional Russian values.” The visa, the Kremlin has said, is “Russia’s response to what it perceives as the harmful effects of Western neoliberal policies.” But only a tiny fraction of the immigrants Russia needs will be Westerners who apply for such a visa; instead, Russia has been diversifying its pool of migrant workers by looking further east. Around 72,000 work permits were issued to Indian nationals in 2025, up from just 5,000 in 2021. Russian officials have signaled they are ready to accept “unlimited” numbers of workers from South Asian countries like India, Sri Lanka, and Myanmar.

While the Kremlin is looking to South Asia and Africa to address its immediate need for workers (and soldiers), the ambition in the longer term is to boost Russian birthr rates, despite the signal failure of ongoing attempts. 

In the U.S., there have been several moves borrowed from the Kremlin’s playbook, including the restriction of abortion, the attempt to deny women birth control, and even alarm at the fall in teen pregnancies. But data released this month showed that women in the U.S. gave birth to 710,000 fewer babies in 2025 than they did in 2007, a reflection of two decades of steadily dropping birth rates. Russian demographer Salavat Abylkalikov, at the Leibniz Institute for East and Southeast European Studies in Germany, says “if the birth rate has fallen below the level of simple reproduction, it is almost impossible to raise it back.” Especially when financial incentives cover just a fraction of childcare costs. 

In any case, Abylkalikov says, “in Russia, death is much more profitable than birth: in Nizhny Novgorod Oblast, the government provides around 1,000,000 rubles (about $12,000) for each child, but if one person goes to war and dies, the family receives up to 12 million rubles in total. That's more than $120,000. This is the economy of death.” The evidence, from countries like Russia, Hungary and the U.S., is that appeals to tradition, to religion and to female “responsibility” do not work, when support for families is limited. And while migration is an obvious fix to demographic questions everywhere, it’s politically toxic.

Russia knows it is hurtling towards demographic doom but can do little to halt the momentum. Its policies are riddled with inconsistencies — a strong line in anti-migration rhetoric and bullying, while being forced to import workers and soldiers from Asia and Africa; a patriarchal view of women’s roles, mostly confined to the domestic, while increasingly reliant on women to take the jobs of the men who are fighting and dying in Putin's war; and encouraging more women to give birth, while employing children to build drones. With family values like these, no wonder young Russians are hesitant to procreate.

The post Teens making drones: Russia’s demographic collapse appeared first on Coda Story.

Someone recently asked me what mark out of 10 I’d give for the efforts of governments to tackle financial crime. It got me thinking about that one bright spot of recent times — the West’s response to Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine four years ago — and how it is now looking. Back in 2022, a lot of us were pleasantly surprised by the speed and ambition with which Western governments sanctioned the Russian government, state-owned companies and wealthy individuals. While Western pressure did not prevent the war, the asset freezes did impose a real cost on those conducting it. Four years on, however, those sanctions are beginning to look a bit shopsoiled. If they began at 7/10, they’re now scoring a lot lower.

There are reasons for this: Donald Trump does not appear particularly interested in Ukraine; the now former Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orbán has been snarling things up; and so on, as laid out in this analysis from Tom Keatinge. To make things worse, Trump’s latest adventure in Iran has pushed the oil prices sharply higher, earning more money for Russia while also giving Trump cover to lift sanctions, a temporary measure he has recently extended.

Keatinge argues that European countries need to be far more focussed on going after Russia’s payment mechanisms, particularly digital. “The extent to which crypto activity supports Russia’s war effort is clear,” he writes, “yet repeated initiatives to elevate the importance of opening a concerted line of effort on this issue are ignored. This must change.”

I agree, though it won’t be easy, considering the diffuse crypto ecosystem, and the increasing sophistication of Russian involvement in it. As long as Telegram is willing to host markets, the markets will continue to function to some extent whatever Western countries do (see the story of Xinbi, a Chinese-language hub for illicit crypto.) However, it does look like someone somewhere has lost patience with the ease with which Russia is funding itself.

“The sanctioned Russia-linked cryptoasset exchange Grinex announced an immediate suspension of its operations, citing a ‘large-scale cyberattack,’” reports Elliptic. According to the statement, which Kyrgyzstan-registered Grinex posted on Telegram, it lost around $13 million worth of USDT in the hack, blaming the theft on Western intelligence agencies.

“Today the attempts to destabilise our fatherland’s financial sector hit a new level, with the direct theft of the assets of Russian citizens and companies with the involvement of complex cyberattacks,” the statement said. Grinex is the successor to Garantex, which was shut down just over a year ago after years of effort by Western law enforcement. I would be surprised if Western countries had decided to take direct action against Grinex, as the exchange claims they did. Westerners tend to be a bit too legalistic for this kind of smash-and-grab, and I would expect any operation to more closely resemble what worked a year ago, conducted with Tether’s cooperation.

Instead, I suspect this attack is the work of hacktivists, perhaps working for or with the Ukrainians. Whatever the answer, it is embarrassing for the Russians, shows their crypto-security is not impregnable, and has made a noticeable dent in trading volumes of the A7A5 ruble-denominated stablecoin, which has become a key sanctions evasion tool. Three birds with one stone.

The important point is that sanctions were never supposed to be permanent: they are a foreign policy tool, not a law enforcement one. Hundreds of billions of Russian-owned dollars are languishing in various frozen bank accounts, and Western countries need to start thinking about what to do with them. They can confiscate them, investigate them or — if they’re feeling brave — use their potential return as leverage to persuade wealthy Russians to break with the Kremlin. What they shouldn’t do is leave them as they are to gather dust.

Hopefully, now that Orbán is out of the way, European countries will be able to take firmer collective action but they also need to be imaginative, and to start behaving as if they actually want Ukraine to win, rather than just not lose.

A defeat for transparency 

Of course, the United States will have a lot to say about that too, and what it ends up saying about how to tackle the Russian crypto operations will depend on what happens in the midterm elections this year. So, it strikes me as a big deal that crypto firms are once more pouring tens of millions of dollars into campaign vehicles in their quest for, what they euphemistically refer to as, “regulatory clarity.” Among them, of course, is Tether.

If you’re wondering quite how it’s possible to spend that much money on elections, I draw your attention once more to the great Integrity Index, with its records for who’s been spending what. It boggles my mind that, for example, the three Democratic rivals to the Republicans’ Susan Collins for the Maine Senate seat have raised more than $17 million just for the primary. Collins herself has raised over $10.5 million. There really shouldn’t be that much money in politics.

Besides, when it comes to value for money, investing in court cases beats investing in politics every day of the week. I don’t know how much the (ironically) anonymous plaintiffs in the 2022 case against corporate transparency in Luxembourg paid their lawyers, but its effects just seem to keep compounding to the benefit of those who want to hide their wealth from society. 

The European Union’s retreat from revealing the ownership of shell companies has given cover for Britain’s tax havens as they resisted efforts from London to force them to open up their own corporate registries. It looks like those efforts may have finally failed. “We are committed to full transparency, but I don’t think there will be any turning back,” said the British Virgin Islands’ Junior Minister for Financial Services Lorna Smith in comments confirming that the islands are in fact very much not committed to full transparency.

A version of this story was published in this week’s Oligarchy newsletter. Sign up here.

The post Why Europe must disable Russia’s crypto ecosystem appeared first on Coda Story.