The events of the past two weeks compel a new perspective on the negotiation process surrounding Ukraine. Not long ago, it seemed almost obvious: there would be no real peace. Both Putin and Zelensky entered the negotiations initiated by Trump not for the sake of ending the war, but for the sake of simulating the process—each for their own reasons.

For Putin, the war has long become a source of internal legitimization, a tool for mobilizing society, and a justification for repression. For Zelensky, the war has turned into a political armor that effectively guarantees him indefinite tenure in power. If the war continues for another ten or fifteen years, he will remain president for as many years.

In this logic, the three years remaining for Trump in office seemed trivial. Both Putin and Zelensky could afford to drag out negotiations, create the appearance of movement, exchange rhetoric, but not concede on substance. That is why, until recently, one could say with bitter irony: the chances of negotiation results are close to zero. These are typical "negotiations for the sake of negotiations."

But then the U.S. operation in Venezuela with the capture of Maduro occurs. And this sharply changes the context. Trump demonstrates readiness to act not only through loud statements, fantastic ultimatums, and sarcastic tweets, but also through swift, tough, and unexpected practical decisions.

For both sides of the Ukrainian-Russian war, this is a serious signal. Theoretically, such a style of action could be transferred to other directions—including the "Ukrainian problem," and it is currently unclear which side of the confrontation it might affect. A direct analogy between Venezuela and Ukraine limps, but the psychological effect is obvious: the factor of unpredictability returns to the game.

Simultaneously, internal pressure on Zelensky intensifies. Investigations by NABU and SAP—institutions created with active participation and funding from the U.S.—are increasingly shaking the power structure from within. Public organizations that support these structures have been funded by Western foundations and embassies for years, and thus act within the logic of the Western agenda.

Just days ago, the "Mindyuk case" was joined by the "Tymoshenko case." The leader of "Batkivshchyna" is accused of systematically financially incentivizing deputies for "correct" pro-government votes. Formally, this party is not part of the ruling coalition, but de facto regularly supplies votes for key decisions of the Bankova. This means that even the supporting elements of Zelensky's parliamentary support can become toxic.

As a result, the authoritarian model of power in Ukraine has not yet shaken, but it is beginning to lose its monolithic nature. This does not mean an inevitable breakthrough in negotiations or a quick peace. Zelensky is quite capable of continuing to bide his time, relying on his own luck. However, after Venezuela, there is room for an alternative scenario—a scenario that goes beyond the "eternal war" to which not only Putin and Zelensky, but also the political classes of Russia and Ukraine, who have learned to comfortably coexist in a state of constant war, have become accustomed.

This is the main risk and at the same time the chance for Ukraine. If external pressure combines with internal anti-corruption destabilization of the system, mere simulation of negotiations may become insufficient. For Trump, the issue of results increasingly turns into a matter of personal political image.

And the Ukrainian society, although not very democratic in its mass, and even less self-sufficient during the war than in peacetime, theoretically at some stage can awaken and try to realize: war cannot be a universal justification for all managerial failures, corruption chains, and the liquidation of democracy.

In this sense, Venezuela becomes not an example, but a warning. The era of words may end suddenly, leaving political elites face to face with the consequences of their own cynicism. And then the issue of peace will cease to be an abstract political game, turning into a concrete choice that will have to be paid for not with ratings, but with power, freedom of maneuver, and one's own political safety.

For many, such a "Venezuela" may become an unpleasant but historically quite logical finale.