EU member states block new Russia sanctions
Hungary and Slovakia have blocked the European Union's 18th sanctions package against Moscow, Hungarian Foreign Minister Peter Szijjarto has announced. The bloc's proposal to cut Russian energy imports would deal a major blow to his country's energy security, he explained.
Budapest has opposed EU sanctions on Russian energy since the escalation of the Ukraine conflict in 2022, saying the imports are vital to its national interests. The country has a long-term contract with Russia's Gazprom and receives the bulk of its oil and gas from Russia. Slovakia has also voiced similar concerns.
Speaking at a press conference following a meeting of EU foreign ministers in Brussels on Monday, Szijjarto said that 'we, together with Slovakia, prevented the adoption of the [18th] sanctions package today,' which would mostly have focused on Russia's energy sector.
The diplomat clarified that Budapest and Bratislava vetoed the sanctions package because in separate trade legislation, Brussels has proposed phasing out all remaining Russian gas flows to the EU by the end of 2027. The minister argued that this would severely undermine Budapest's energy security and lead to a sharp spike in energy costs for Hungarians.
'We are not willing to have the Hungarian people pay the price for supporting Ukraine,' Szijjarto insisted.
The EU-wide phasing-out plan that Szijjarto referred to was announced by EU Energy Commissioner Dan Jorgensen last Tuesday, with the backing of European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen.
The proposal, which is currently opposed by Hungary, Austria and Slovakia, and reportedly by Italy, is expected to be introduced as trade legislation, which under EU rules does not require unanimity among bloc members to become law, but merely the support of at least 15 of the EU's 27 member states.
Commenting on the plan, Russian presidential envoy Kirill Dmitriev, said that 'EU Commission bureaucrats seem obsessed – with making the EU as uncompetitive as possible on the global stage.'
While pipeline flows have dropped sharply since 2022, EU imports of Russian liquefied natural gas (LNG) have soared. Russia supplied 17.5% of the bloc's LNG in 2024, trailing only the US at 45.3%, according to industry data. France, Spain, and Belgium accounted for 85% of the EU's LNG imports from the sanctioned country, according to the Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Analysis (IEEFA).
Russia maintains that it is still a reliable energy supplier, while denouncing Western sanctions and trade restrictions targeting its exports as illegal under international law.
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Russia Today
31 minutes ago
- Russia Today
Prof. Schlevogt's Compass No. 18: You are fired! Five fatal flaws forge Trump's fall
'The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.' — William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar At his Resolute Desk, Trump sits like a force of nature — waging war, bending markets, and crushing dissent with a single gesture. He doesn't follow rules; he rewrites them. The world's on edge, all eyes on him. He doesn't blink. He dominates. One man. One will. Total disruption. But step past the drama, and a different picture emerges: beneath the surface, fault lines are running deep, primed to rupture. The final reckoning? Trump's presidency is headed for failure. These are the Fateful Five: the interconnected weaknesses that spell his likely downfall — a web of vulnerability captured in the Five F-Framework (see Figure 1). US President Donald John Trump has often shown the right political instincts – seeking to end conflicts, challenging entrenched ideologies, and pushing back on progressive social agendas. More than once, he has acted with defiant bravado – doing what he believes is right, even in the face of mainstream opposition. Breaking decades of deadlock, he met North Korea's leader. Undeterred by fierce criticism, he engaged Russia's president Putin – isolated in the West over Ukraine and alleged election meddling. Meanwhile, he boldly bulldozed 'progressive' diversity policies – which are spiritually, morally, and socially corrosive and truly regressive – braving the shrieking fury of woke inquisitors, their relentless pitchfork brigades, and the ever-aggrieved cancel mob. Yet Trump's boldness often slips into hubris – excessive pride that fuels overconfidence, blinds him to acute limits and warnings, and puts ego above the common good. It shows in his underestimation of global conflicts (like in Ukraine and the Middle East), attacks on allies and institutions (notably NATO), and fixation on flashy prestige projects (like the US–Mexico Border Wall). Craving adulation, Trump chases image over substance and, driven by a mercurial temperament, governs by impulse. Pride, arrogance, narcissism, and impulsiveness can make a leader dangerously vulnerable. The TACO label–Trump Always Chickens Out–may have been floated to bait him into proving his toughness, though this is speculative. Regardless, that jab may well have nudged him toward a radical and fateful choice: striking Iran unprovoked, despite unequivocal CIA and UN evidence that Tehran possessed no nuclear weapons. Trump's massive ego makes him easy prey for flattery. Before the 2025 NATO summit, the US commander in chief eagerly circulated a glowing message from the alliance' secretary general Mark Rutte. The consummate 'Trump whisperer' praised Donald's Iran strike as 'truly extraordinary, and something no one else dared to do', assuring his friend that he 'will achieve something NO American president in decades could get done', and cheering that 'Europe is going to pay in a BIG way' – never mind that Rutte, a European himself, would help foot the bill as a taxpayer. Even the most powerful leaders have typically deemed it necessary to cloak their ambitions in moral reasons to gain legitimacy, unify people, rally support, and ease resistance – like Julius Caesar framing his conquest of Gaul as a civilizing mission. Fast forward centuries to Napoleon who sold his wars as fights for liberty – even as he built an empire. Consider his famous call urging troops to champion the Italian people: 'You will go to fight for the liberty of the peoples of Italy, to free them from the chains of their tyrants.' Though arguably lacking the stature of a Caesar or Napoleon, President Trump often bypasses morality, propriety, and basic decency – ethically unmoored, he leans instinctively on the logic of 'might makes right.' Classic proof: In February 2025, he proposed turning Gaza – a densely populated place he, with striking disregard for human suffering, described as a 'demolition site' – into a US-run 'Riviera' without Palestinians. Trump casually shrugged off the unprovoked, US-backed Israeli attack on Iran in June 2025 as just 'two kids in a schoolyard.' He cynically reduced a deadly, high-stakes war – one which threatened world peace and risked unravelling the global economy – into a trivial, harmless spat. Remarkably, he cast himself as a neutral referee and peacemaker-in-wait, feigning detachment while watching the roughhousing – never mind that America had handed one kid the stick. In a 2020 tweet, Trump slammed the International Criminal Court – a body probing genocide, war crimes, and crimes against humanity – as a 'kangaroo court' and 'illegitimate.' After the ICC probed Israeli PM Netanyahu for alleged war crimes in Gaza, Trump hit back in 2025 – first slapping harsh sanctions on the ICC Chief Prosecutor, then, in a historic escalation, targeting four sitting judges. In 2018, Trump refused to visit a war cemetery, reportedly dismissing fallen US soldiers as 'losers' and 'suckers' – a striking example of disrespect and poor judgment. By putting power above principle, he sacrifices ethos – the trust derived from perceived moral integrity – which is a crucial tool of persuasion. His blunt style, admired by his base as authentic, fuels opponents' claims of tyranny, rekindling fears from the days of the American Revolution and eroding America's soft power. Against this backdrop, Trump's stunt of circulating an AI image of himself crowned – predictably provoking blistering backlash from democracy advocates – was hardly helpful. His raw, say-what-you-think style lacks the subtle finesse that refined leadership demands – a finesse that classical Chinese strategists famously, yet controversially, saw in dissimulation and other forms of artful deception. Paradoxically, Trump's brash candor and outspokenness – often bordering on naïveté – stands in sharp contrast to another of his trademark habits. Notably, Trump is a historic 'outliar', possessing a rare gift for alternative interpretations of truth, never letting facts stand in the way of a good story. His radical tactic of strategic truth adjustment – aptly called firehosing – bombards audiences with repeated falsehoods to drown out facts. Unlike subtle fake heading, firehosing is blunt and easily exposed. Case in point: The Washington Post tracked 30,573 false or misleading claims made by Trump in his first term – about 21 a day, and climbing. Short-term gains come at a steep cost. Sidelining logos – logical reasoning based on facts, not fiction – Trump is forced to lean hard on his last remaining persuasion tool: pathos – appealing to the audience's emotions – stoking fear of unchecked immigration, economic doom, and national decay to fire up his base. Trump's relentless wielding of pathos lies at the heart of his cunning, divisive populist playbook: he casts himself as a hero of 'the people' battling 'the elites,' but banks on hollow promises, sham fixes, and the emotional bait of feigned compassion. True leaders unify; Trump divides – as polarizer-in-chief, he unquestionably backs powerful special interests like the Israel and arms lobby, while routinely vilifying the vulnerable. Trump's zealous quest for an imperial presidency and American restoration splinters strategic focus and coherence and engenders a chaotic juggling act. The US president's scattershot approach spreads him thin across domestic crises and global flashpoints, risking failure everywhere – worsened by the fog of vague, half-baked initiatives, such as 'Build the Wall' and 'Drain the Swamp'. At times, he goes full shotgun – epitomized in the record-breaking flurry of 26 executive orders on day one of term two: scrapping climate pacts, overhauling immigration, narrowing gender rights, targeting civil servants, and pardoning 1,500 Capitol rioters. Curiously, Trump pairs this tireless multi-tasking with a cinematic jump-cut style, dropping the ball when challenges mount. Once his brash promise to end the Ukraine war in 24 hours fell flat, the 47th president slammed on the brakes and made a sharp, unexpected pivot – upending global trade and subsequently targeting Iran. His notorious audacity in flouting rules oddly contrasts with unlikely timidity: Think TACO again. For Trump, leadership is just the art of the deal. His dominant logic is flawed: he treats politics like real estate – centered on bargaining, branding, short-term wins, zero-sum games, and risky bets. Prioritizing transactions over relations, he ignores the complex human stakes at play. Through his peculiar lens, the New York mogul is spotting real estate-style opportunities, remarkably, in the political arena: dreaming not of peace in Gaza but a Riviera, and viewing a North Korean beach not as a geopolitical flashpoint but luxury property in waiting. Trump did not just see real estate deals in politics – he saw a full-blown business portfolio. To some, he played the role of a Godfather in the White House, deploying extortion tactics straight from the Mafia playbook. Consider this: Trump preyed on Ukraine's vulnerability and desperation for US military support to seize critical minerals and resources. In a brazen twist, he demanded payment for aid already delivered – like invoicing someone years after giving them a Christmas gift. Just as a sports coach chasing wins, masters of the political game require a smart, balanced roster. But Trump prizes loyalty over competence – elevating partisan firebrands, such as the political strategist Steve Bannon, while sidelining seasoned pros seen as wavering, such as FBI Director Comey – sacrificing effective governance for personal allegiance. Such favoritism echoes the infamous tale of Emperor Caligula, who allegedly planned to appoint his prized horse, Incitatus, as consul – rewarding loyalty over competence to mock the Senate and flaunt his absolute power. By surrounding himself with yes-men and shutting out dissenting voices, Trump traps himself in an echo chamber devoid of the diversity and checks essential for making creative, rational, fact-driven decisions. To make matters worse, Trump's outsized ego clashes even with loyalists, leading to public humiliations and bitter fallouts fueled by bruised pride and policy rifts. The casualty list is long: Sessions, Cohen, Bolton, Barr, Musk – all cast out, only to burst back onto the scene as staunch critics armed with insider secrets and thirst for revenge. Sharp minds steer clear, knowing that in Trump's orbit, loyalty is demanded but never securely returned. The damage from Trump's weak personal leadership is only compounded by his equally poor performance as an organizational architect. Unlike epochal leaders who built enduring institutional frameworks – think Napoleon's Code Civile – Trump's legacy so far boils down to a bold dismantling act, epitomized by Elon Musk's chainsaw ripping through the excess of labyrinthine bureaucracy. Tellingly, Trump seems to have skipped classes in Organizational Behavior – the study of workplace dynamics – to his detriment. Had he mastered it, he could have driven systemic change step-by-step – in a methodic and disciplined manner: sparking urgency, forging vision, and empowering execution. The US president would also have learned to meticulously calibrate transformation across key dimensions: purpose, substance, scope, scale, speed, style, and sequence. To illustrate: savvy change leaders are timing every single move with precision – fast for quick wins, slow for broad and lasting buy-in – and balance structural reforms with cultural shifts. In his haste and vaulting ambition, Trump mistook force for foresight – jamming every lever to the limit with no flight plan, no runway, and no brakes. He drove radical change at full throttle on all fronts, ignoring the gauges and redlining the engine – as if raw adrenaline alone could fly the plane. On his blind mission to the stars, POTUS 47 neglected the intricate immune system of a bureaucracy with its manifold ingenious ways of mounting resistance – from open defiance to slow-rolling to feigned compliance that quietly sabotages reform behind a smile. Need a masterclass in bureaucratic resistance? Just watch Yes, Prime Minister. Notably, Trump seemed oblivious to the ratchet effect – a dynamic in which actions, like a one-way mechanism, are far easier to take than to undo. It is a cautionary principle: once momentum takes hold – whether in administrative systems or government policies – reversal is rarely simple. This insight sharpens awareness of how hard legacies are to unwind – and advises prudence before locking oneself into moves that resist reversal. To illustrate the trap: Trump's tariffs on China, meant to protect US industry, proved politically perilous to undo. Or Iran: once provoked, reconciliation proved far harder than escalation. In both cases, pulling the trigger was easy; climbing down, far harder – true to the adage, 'Some paths are easier to blaze than to backtrack.' Unclouded by ideology, Trump jolts politics with an innovative and results-driven mindset, defying orthodoxy and upending entrenched trends. Wielding power more like a chainsaw than a chisel, his sheer will cuts political noise and rips into the machinery of government with blunt force. The maverick and trickster favors personal engagement over formal channels – witness his direct talks with President Putin on Ukraine. With his seat-of-the-pants style and raw energy, he shatters long-standing barriers, but creates little lasting substance. Paradoxically, despite his pragmatism, Trump often operates in a vacuum – driven by wishful thinking and blind to the hard and dynamic realities of power: scarce economic resources, military constraints, geographic limitations, and institutional checks. Committing the fallacy of the last move, he gravely underestimates backlash from adversaries, such as tariff retaliation or military counterstrikes. Remember the time-tested truth: 'Every battle plan is perfect until first contact with the enemy.' Trump's shaky grasp of realpolitik – pragmatic power politics grounded in shifting realities – leaves him ill-equipped for complex global challenges. His radical shifts in strategy, tone, and messaging betray a deafness to the nuance that serious statecraft demands. Trump's erratic style is laid bare in his wild policy swings and theatrical dealings with friends and foes alike. Undermining the very structures that long projected America's power and cemented its political, economic, and military might, Trump voluntarily surrendered key levers of dominance that his adversaries could have only dreamt of prying loose. He rattled NATO by questioning core defense commitments, stunned allies with abrupt troop pullouts from Germany, Syria, and Afghanistan, and treated US forces in Asia as bargaining chips – demanding steep payments from South Korea and Japan. Wounding a friend marks a stunning break even from the most basic pagan maxim – 'help your friends, harm your enemies' – a code long fundamentally transcended by Christian ethics. Trump's North Korea approach veered from threats of 'fire and fury' and mocking Kim Jong-un as 'Little Rocket Man,' to praising him as a 'very talented' leader and crossing into North Korea with a smile and handshake. The dime-spinning showmanship grabbed headlines – but yielded nothing: North Korea kept its nukes. Forged in the high-stakes world of real estate, Trump brings a gambler's instinct to politics – gutsy, fearless, and drawn to spectacular all-in bets that others would avoid. But he often chases outsized rewards while ignoring long-term risks. Trump's 2018 unilateral withdrawal from the Iran nuclear deal alienated allies and fueled tensions – bringing Iran closer to the bomb. His sweeping trade war with China that year backfired, straining global supply chains and hurting American farmers without a clear victory. The 2025 US attack on Iran escalated diplomatic failure into open conflict. Trump's move to relocate the US embassy to Jerusalem epitomizes short-term brinkmanship over long-term strategy and consensus-building. Breaking decades of precedent, it fired up his evangelical and pro-Israel base but sparked regional tensions and sidelined the US as a broker in the Israeli–Palestinian conflict. At times, Trump shows caution, backpedaling after hallmark, bet-the-house gambits – canceling tariffs or recasting himself as an impartial arbiter and kind-hearted peacemaker after ruthlessly igniting conflicts and backing one side – earning the moniker 'daddy' during a respite in the 2025 Israel-Iran war. Yet a moment may come when the destructive forces and chaos he unleashed spirals beyond control, and the former host of The Apprentice finds himself outmatched – not as the boss, but as the Sorcerer's Apprentice, forced to cry: 'Master! Help! The evil spirits I have summoned will not be quiet!' – only to hear in reply: 'You're fired!' 'It's the economy, stupid' – coined in Clinton's 1992 campaign to spotlight the voters' top concern – remains timeless. Yet Trump seems deaf to this enduring truth. From the start, Trump shattered economic orthodoxy with his Make America Great mantra, favoring shock interventions from the White House over steady multilateral cooperation and gradual consensus-building at home and abroad. Yet mirroring his shaky grasp of realpolitik, he was weak in realwirtschaft – often gambling on wishful outcomes, underestimating the hard forces shaping the real economy. Over time, Trump doubled down on destructive economic nationalism and selective deregulation – pursuing radical decoupling from China and showering incentives on US manufacturing. He ramped up tariffs on European and Asian imports, reigniting global trade wars and driving up inflation at home. Undermining global climate efforts, he unleashed fossil fuel expansion by gutting environmental rules and opening federal lands to drilling. In 2025, he signed the beautifully alliterate One Big Beautiful Bill – a sweeping deficit-financed economic package bundling infrastructure spending, tax cuts, and industrial subsidies – hailed as bold stimulus by supporters, slammed by critics as reckless populism. In his most audacious economic gambit yet, Trump vowed to scrap income taxes for most Americans and replace the IRS with an 'External Revenue Service' bankrolled by sweeping import tariffs. Trump's plan grabs headlines but reeks of recklessness – overhyping tariffs, burdening consumers, fueling inflation, inviting global backlash, and eroding fiscal credibility; a crowd-pleaser doomed by economic realities and glaring policy contradictions – like aiming to tame inflation by stoking it with tariffs. This reveals the deeper flaw of the overreaching leader: by putting politics above economics and sidestepping fundamental economic principles, he triggers toxic fallout that can swiftly unravel their reign. Turkish president Recep Tayyip Erdoğan's defiance of economic orthodoxy – slashing interest rates amid soaring inflation – ignited a lira freefall and an inflation inferno, proving that fighting fire with gasoline burns fast and deep. Flouting economic fundamentals in a policy blitz can precipitate a swift downfall – U.K. prime minister Liz Truss's radical push for large unfunded tax cuts shattered market trust in the economic competency and policies of her government and sent her premiership crashing in just 44 days. At the end, we may ask, 'Was this the rise of a colossus – or the long prologue to a fall?' Trump embodies the quintessential American can-do spirit – the very driving force that vaulted the land of opportunity to global preeminence, drawing the best and brightest for generations. Yet unchecked strength in excess – untempered by moderation, prudence, or equity – becomes weakness that, if uncorrected and compounded by other flaws, engenders derailment. Trump's impulsiveness and unpredictability, personalized rule, disregard for diplomatic balance, and penchant for undercutting institutions evoke not Bismarck's cautious statecraft, but the apparent reckless self-sabotage of Wilhelm II – reportedly a mercurial man whose very excesses and volatility ensured he would be Germany's last emperor. Never forget: every choice carries a price – nothing comes without a cost. If you lean toward the ominous and sinister, consider this chilling conspiracy theory: Trump may have been elevated not to succeed, but to fail – spectacularly. His rise may have been engineered as a political vaccine, paving the way for a calculated liberal restoration, swiftly reversing his agenda and quietly entrenching progressive rule over countless electoral cycles. By similar conspiratorial logic, Hitler's ascent to absolute power could be seen as a dark gambit – to inoculate the German people against authoritarianism, militant nationalism, and anti-Judaism, and to catalyze the creation of Israel. Both, perhaps, were dialectical masterstrokes – premeditated catharses, with doomed, fateful figureheads cast as sacrifices to reshape history through fire. Even in his unhinged state, Trump could still, in theory, learn from past missteps and change course – but the odds are vanishingly slim. His five fatal flaws are poised to seal his fate. As Oscar Wilde observed, 'All great men are gifted with destruction.' The Apprentice star seemed to have peaked on the first day in office; his undoing may take multiple forms, each varying in drama and pace. Trump might come down 'not with a bang but a whimper,' reduced to a lame-duck after a midterm humiliation of his party. More spectacular exits include second-term impeachment or post-presidency criminal conviction. Or perhaps no rupture at all – just a legacy of failure, etched in history not for triumph, but for squandered power. To conclude, Donald Trump is such stuff as tragedies are made on. The man can be compared to the typical protagonist in classical Attic tragedy – not a pure hero or a true villain, but a flawed, elevated figure, whose all-too-human weaknesses drive his fall, echoing the narrative arc of classical Attic tragedy. Inspiring pity through his suffering and fear that his fate could be ours, the tragic hero typically begins noble and strong, but caught in a web of dark forces and blinded by pride or misled by a fateful error, engineers his own downfall – seeing clearly and recognizing the truth only when it is too late. Longfellow's apt warning echoes like a tragic chorus: 'Whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad.'
Russia Today
3 hours ago
- Russia Today
West will never succeed in attempts to defeat Russia
Western war-hawks will not succeed in inflicting a 'strategic defeat' on Russia, Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov has said. He made the remark during talks with his Kyrgyz counterpart, Jeenbek Kulubaev, on Sunday during an official visit to Kyrgyzstan. According to Lavrov, NATO and the EU are using the Ukraine conflict as a weapon against Russia. 'We are witnessing an unprecedented confrontation between our country and the collective West, which has decided to once again go to war against us and inflict a strategic defeat on Russia, essentially using the Nazi regime in Kiev as a battering ram,' he stated. 'The West has never succeeded in this, and it will not succeed this time either.' Lavrov said many Western policymakers 'are beginning to guess' that their hawkish approach to Russia is futile, without elaborating. His remarks echo Moscow's earlier warnings against Western support for the Kiev regime and militarization by NATO and the EU. At a recent EU summit in Brussels, most member states backed more sanctions and aid for Ukraine. Hungary, however, vetoed the final statement and blocked Kiev's EU accession talks. Russia previously took a neutral stance on Ukraine's EU bid, calling it a 'sovereign right' as long as it remains an economic bloc. But with Brussels ramping up military spending, Russian officials have grown critical. Russian Security Council Deputy Chairman and former President Dmitry Medvedev has said the EU is now 'no less of a threat' to Russia than NATO. Moscow considers NATO expansion toward its borders to be a major national security threat, and has said the military bloc's support for Ukrainian membership is one of the root causes of the conflict. Russian officials slammed the bloc's decision this week for member states to raise defense spending to 5% of GDP, which was presented as a way to deter the alleged 'long-term threat posed by Russia to Euro-Atlantic security.' Moscow has denied that it has any intention of attacking Western states, dismissing the claims as 'nonsense' used to justify a military buildup. Russian President Vladimir Putin accused NATO of fabricating threats to extract money from citizens of member states.
Russia Today
7 hours ago
- Russia Today
West waging ‘centuries-old war' against Moscow – Russia's top UN diplomat
Western nations are using Ukraine as their proxy in a longstanding confrontation with Russia, which is deeply rooted in history, Russian Ambassador to the UN Vassily Nebenzia has told RT's Rick Sanchez. In an interview on Sanchez Effect aired on Friday, Nebenzia argued that the conflict 'should be seen in a larger context.' 'They do not care about Ukraine. This is not a war between Russia and Ukraine,' he said. 'Ukraine is a proxy in this war. This is a centuries-old war of the West against Russia, starting with the Polish invasion in the 17th century.' Nebenzia cited Napoleon's invasion of Russia, the 1854-56 Crimean War, Western military intervention during the Russian Civil War, and the invasion by Nazi Germany and its allies in World War II. He stressed that Hitler's army included not only Germans, but also units drawn from allied countries and occupied territories. The Ukrainians and 'their sponsors' in the West sabotaged the 2014-15 Minsk accords, which were aimed at ending the conflict between Kiev and the breakaway Donbass republics, the Russian diplomat said. Former French President Francois Hollande and former German Chancellor Angela Merkel later admitted that the agreement was used by Kiev to buy time and rearm, Nebenzia stated. 'We are not going [to fall] into the same trap once again,' he said. He added that politicians such as former UK Prime Minister Boris Johnson similarly helped derail the 2022 peace talks between Russia and Ukraine. Ukraine's European backers were forced to adjust their position, Nebenzia argued, after US President Donald Trump launched efforts to broker peace and Ukrainian troops began losing more ground. 'They changed their rhetoric from 'We should inflict strategic defeat on Russia' to 'Russia should not win in this war.' Now they are advocating for a full, immediate, and unconditional ceasefire, which is testimony that they want to shield and protect their proxy, as they are obviously losing on the battlefield,' he said. Nebenzia added that the resumption of direct Russia-Ukraine negotiations earlier this year provides hope that the conflict will be resolved soon.
