For a brief moment in early 2025, it seemed possible that the Russia–Ukraine war might begin to wind down. A new administration in Washington spoke the language of diplomacy, European publics showed signs of fatigue, and even within Russia and Ukraine, there were hints of exhaustion after years of devastating conflict. Yet those fragile hopes have since dissolved. The latest waves of Russian drone and missile strikes on Kyiv this weekend are not an aberration but a reminder: Europe’s deadliest war since 1945 is not ending—it is entrenching.
What has emerged instead is something more dangerous than open escalation: a normalised war of attrition. The conflict grinds on with immense human and geopolitical consequences, yet diminishing global attention. Overshadowed by crises in West Asia and strained by political divisions within NATO, Ukraine is no longer the focal point it once was. The tragedy is no longer just that the war continues, but that the world has begun to accept it.
A war locked by mutual survival
At its core, the war persists because both sides now see it as existential. For Russia, the conflict has expanded far beyond territorial ambition. It is tied to Moscow’s perception of national security and regime survival. NATO’s eastward expansion—regardless of how it is interpreted externally—has been internalised by the Kremlin as a historic threat.
For Vladimir Putin, retreat without tangible gains risks not just geopolitical defeat but domestic destabilisation. Years of mobilisation, sanctions, and nationalist messaging have locked the Russian state into a war it cannot easily abandon.
Ukraine faces an equally unforgiving calculus. After immense sacrifice, conceding territory is not merely a strategic setback—it could unravel the political cohesion and national identity forged since 2022. Any Ukrainian leadership that formally accepts significant territorial losses risks collapse.
Both sides, therefore, remain convinced that time may yet favour them. Russia bets on Western fatigue. Ukraine bets on sustained Western resolve.
From regional war to systemic struggle
The conflict is no longer simply about Ukraine. It has evolved into a broader contest over the future of the international order. NATO’s extensive military, financial, and intelligence support has transformed the battlefield into a proxy confrontation between Russia and the Western security system.
For Moscow, the war is inseparable from its confrontation with the United States and its allies. For the West, a Russian victory carries implications far beyond Eastern Europe—it risks legitimising territorial conquest in an era already marked by rising great-power competition.
This has imbued the war with ideological weight. It is no longer just about borders; it is about norms, deterrence, and the credibility of international security guarantees.
The fracturing of Western unity
Yet the unity that defined the West’s early response is eroding. Economic pressures, energy instability, inflation, and domestic political polarisation have begun to reshape public priorities. While Eastern European states remain acutely focused on the Russian threat, parts of Western Europe are increasingly wary of indefinite commitments.
The United States, meanwhile, faces its own internal divisions. Political debates over aid to Ukraine have intensified, reflecting broader questions about global engagement versus domestic priorities. Europe, for all its rhetoric, still lacks the industrial capacity to fully sustain Ukraine without American backing.
Russia has adapted to this reality. Rather than pursuing rapid breakthroughs, it is waging a war designed to exhaust—relying on mass-produced drones, missile saturation, and incremental territorial pressure. The strategy is not to win quickly, but to outlast.
The trap of sunk costs
As the war drags on, peace becomes more elusive. The accumulated costs—human, political, and emotional—have hardened positions on both sides. Entire societies have been reshaped by loss, displacement, and trauma. Distrust has deepened into something more enduring.
Compromises that might have been conceivable earlier in the war are now politically toxic. Leaders on both sides operate within increasingly narrow margins, constrained by public sentiment and wartime narratives.
History offers a clear lesson: the longer wars persist, the harder they are to end—not because solutions disappear, but because they become unacceptable.
A distracted and divided world
The broader international environment has also shifted in ways that prolong the conflict. The war in West Asia has diverted attention, resources, and diplomatic energy. The United States now balances multiple strategic theatres, while European governments face mounting economic and security pressures.
This fragmentation benefits Russia. A divided global focus reduces coordinated pressure and creates strategic breathing room.
At the same time, much of the global South views the conflict through a different lens. For many countries in Asia, Africa, and Latin America, the war is not a simple moral binary but a geopolitical struggle shaped by competing power centers. Scepticism toward Western narratives—fueled by past interventions in Iraq, Libya, and elsewhere—has complicated efforts to build a unified global response.
This does not translate into support for Russia’s actions, but it does weaken the coherence of international pressure.
The illusion of total victory
Despite the immense destruction, neither side currently has a credible path to total victory. Russia may continue to make incremental gains, but fully subjugating Ukraine appears beyond reach. Ukraine, while resilient, faces growing challenges in reclaiming all occupied territory without escalating risks dramatically.
The result is a strategic deadlock—one that sustains violence without resolving the underlying conflict.
This reality is uncomfortable, particularly for policymakers who frame the war in absolutist terms. Yet ignoring it only prolongs the suffering.
The case for imperfect peace
If military victory is unlikely, then the path forward must eventually be political. This does not mean rewarding aggression or abandoning principles. It means recognising that durable peace often emerges not from ideal outcomes, but from negotiated compromise shaped by reality.
A ceasefire should be the immediate priority. Even an imperfect one would save lives, reduce escalation risks, and create space for diplomacy. The longer the war continues, the greater the danger of unintended escalation—whether through infrastructure attacks, cyber operations, or nuclear signalling.
Beyond a ceasefire, a new security framework will be required—one that addresses both European stability and Russian security concerns. This will be difficult, but excluding either side from the continent’s long-term architecture is unlikely to produce lasting peace.
Neutrality models, reconstruction guarantees, and innovative security arrangements—once dismissed—may need to be reconsidered.
India’s quiet opportunity
In this fractured landscape, India occupies a unique position. It maintains relationships with both Russia and Ukraine while retaining credibility in the West and across the global South. Unlike more polarised actors, India has diplomatic flexibility.
Its role is unlikely to be dramatic or immediate. Instead, it may emerge through incremental steps: facilitating dialogue, supporting humanitarian initiatives, enabling prisoner exchanges, and contributing to broader diplomatic frameworks.
India’s consistent emphasis that “this is not an era of war” may seem understated, but it reflects a strategic posture that allows engagement without entanglement.
Crucially, India understands a principle often overlooked in wartime policymaking: sustainable peace requires providing adversaries with exit ramps, not just imposing costs.
The danger of normalisation
Perhaps the greatest risk today is not escalation, but normalisation. The war is becoming background noise—another ongoing conflict in a crowded global landscape. Each missile strike, each destroyed city, each new wave of sanctions is absorbed into a routine cycle of reaction and fatigue.
This is profoundly dangerous.
Wars that become normalised tend to endure. They reshape regions, harden divisions, and erode international norms over time. A permanently simmering conflict in Europe would carry consequences far beyond Ukraine—destabilising economies, deepening authoritarianism, and accelerating global fragmentation.
The longer the world adapts to this war, the harder it becomes to imagine its end.
And when peace becomes unimaginable, war becomes permanent.
(The writer was Vice Chief of the Indian Army.)
(The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not purport to reflect the opinions or views of THE WEEK.)