The year 2025 in Ukraine was not without illusions—on the contrary, it was filled with renewed hopes for victory, negotiations, and a swift end to the war. Yet, another year of full-scale war did not provide answers to key questions. It was a year of endurance, not breakthroughs; a year in which the heroism of society increasingly contrasted with the inertia of the state. The war had finally ceased to be an extraordinary event—it became a convenient backdrop against which nothing needed to change.

On the front lines, the year did not bring a breakthrough, but it also was not a year of collapse. The Ukrainian army held its ground—often in spite of, rather than because of, the system. Symptoms of a systemic crisis were AWOLs and desertions, which plateaued in 2025: an average of about 18,000 cases per month, totaling up to 300,000 since the beginning of the full-scale invasion. This is no longer a problem of individual soldiers' discipline, but a verdict on the army formation model that exhausts but does not replenish.

However, the government, which has effectively become lifelong in the absence of elections, seems to be content with this state of affairs. After all, revising the system means taking responsibility, and responsibility during wartime is inconvenient.

Another year with closed borders has completely changed the social landscape. Ukrainians increasingly feel not like citizens, but as if they are bound to the state. The logic of mobilization, multiplied by the lack of choice and transparent rules, creates a dangerous sense of serfdom. And this is precisely what the government prefers not to speak about openly, postponing the discussion "until after the war."

The absence of elections, formally justified by the war, has effectively destroyed democracy as Ukraine's key advantage over fascist Russia. Almost seven years without political renewal is a serious challenge even for a country fighting for survival. The question "what after the war?" increasingly sounds rhetorical—and less and less like a plan or roadmap.

A notable marker of the year was the resignation of Andriy Yermak amid anti-corruption investigations and the scandal with the so-called "Mindich tapes." It seems that it was not so much about real cleansing of power, but rather about weakening Volodymyr Zelensky personally—to make him more amenable in the negotiation process.

In geopolitics, 2025 was marked by Donald Trump's victory. The U.S. changed its tone: from unconditional support to a desire for reconciliation. While most European allies are set for a long-term war, Washington is increasingly pushing for the negotiation track. The Ukrainian government, which is de facto content with the war as a form of internal stability and frozen status quo, is forced to participate in the process initiated by Trump. How it will end—no one knows.

Corruption scandals exposed by anti-corruption structures, created with active U.S. participation, increasingly appear as tools of external pressure. In fact, they are a form of "coercion to peace," masked as a fight for integrity and reforms.

Russia in 2025 remained true to itself: a satanic war of annihilation, strikes on energy infrastructure, which became one of the year's trends—unfortunately, often successful—and no real readiness for compromise. Putin is content with the war, and a "truce" is possible for him only on his own terms. Therefore, the negotiations of 2025 were lengthy—and have every chance of remaining negotiations for the sake of negotiations.

The worst outcome of the year is something else: the heroism of Ukrainian soldiers is increasingly used by the government as an indulgence. While soldiers hold the front, the state allows itself not to change. But history has repeatedly proven: such a model has its own, very painful end.