Beyond Escalation: Fallacies and Opportunities of Mediation in the Russia-Ukraine Conflict

Executive Summary:

This text reflects solely the author’s opinion and does not necessarily represent views of the Berghof Foundation or the German Atlantic Society.

Is mediation in the Ukraine-Russia war really unrealistic and escalation unavoidable? Calls for talks with Russia are often dismissed as premature, naïve, or as rewarding aggression. This essay challenges these assumptions. It does not question the need for deterrence. Rather, it argues that a broader approach to security must go beyond military preparedness and the binary logic of victory or defeat. It explores what mediation can – and cannot – achieve when positions seem irreconcilable, why third-party interests matter, and what lessons from other conflicts tell us about creating space for negotiation and dialogue. Mediation may not end the war tomorrow. But dismissing it may mean overlooking opportunities to move beyond escalation.

My first two blogs, which discussed the pros and cons of peace negotiations and peace dialogues, led me to the following conclusions: Peace negotiations cannot substitute for the need for a peace dialogue. Some exchange between the warring parties, initially via proxies or through informal back channels, is needed to pave the way for formal negotiations at a later point. However, since the root causes of a violent conflict are unlikely to be adequately addressed through negotiations alone, and since trusted dialogue is key to transforming the underlying conflict, any negotiated deal that is not complemented by such dialogue is unlikely to prove sustainable. The outbreak of renewed violence is then more a matter of time than a question of whether the agreement was merely preliminary or incomplete.

Still, a peace dialogue cannot replace the need for negotiations either. Some negotiations among the main stakeholders will already be required to set the stage for an organized dialogue. Even if, in the best case, consensus is achieved through dialogue, it needs to be translated into reliable and verifiable commitments by the parties to the conflict and into effective conflict transformation. Otherwise, the dialogue itself may become a catalyst for renewed and possibly even deeper mutual mistrust.

A widespread failure to recognize the interdependence of peace negotiations and peace dialogue has more often than not undermined processes pursued in isolation from one another. Afghanistan provided just one example of this – albeit a particularly striking one. There, opportunities for both consensus through dialogue and a more inclusive negotiation format before the fall of Kabul in August 2021 were subordinated to the particular interests of Afghan actors and their various international partners, who viewed themselves either as patrons of the process or as competitors.

In a nutshell, that is why neither negotiations nor dialogue should be understood as competing approaches. They perform different political functions and become most effective when they reinforce one another. The challenge is not choosing between negotiations and dialogue. Peace negotiations primarily seek agreement. A peace dialogue primarily seeks understanding. Durable peace, however, requires both. Understanding without agreement rarely ends violence. Agreements without understanding will rarely survive.

So far, so plausible. However, what if the parties to a conflict do not even agree to enter into constructive dialogue or negotiations? What if they understand any form of interaction between them as a means of continuing war by other means, either to buy time to prepare for the next initiatives on the battlefield or to achieve victory over their opponents by default? What if deep mutual mistrust leads each side to perceive every move by the other as a deceptive maneuver or a hoax?

The third blog in this series turns to mediation – another instrument for preventing or containing protracted violent conflict and, in extreme cases, mitigating the risks of a deadly war of attrition. Russia’s war against Ukraine, now in its fifth year, provides the central case for the following reflections. A decisive military resolution appears increasingly difficult to envisage, while continued escalation carries the risk of consequences reaching far beyond the two countries. What, then, could mediation contribute – and might there be a particular role for Germany? The current stand-off between Moscow and Kyiv reflects both military attrition and political deadlock. Both sides have repeatedly declared their readiness for talks, but have refused to enter into negotiations on the other side’s terms. Russia refuses to recognize Ukraine’s sovereignty and territorial integrity within its pre-war borders. Ukraine refuses to recognize Russian sovereignty over the occupied Ukrainian territories.

The underlying conflict goes beyond the territorial dispute. Russia continues to regard Ukraine as part of what it considers its inherited sphere of influence, regardless of Ukraine’s independence. Kyiv views Russia’s aggression as an attempt to deny Ukraine the freedom to decide whether or not to join the community of democratic European nations. For Ukraine, the close partnership with the West has become a currency of national survival. For Russia, this partnership is portrayed as evidence of a proxy war waged by the Euro-Atlantic alliance against it – a confrontation which, in Moscow’s narrative, had already become apparent much earlier, most visibly in Putin’s Munich Security Conference speech in 2007.

The complexity of this constellation makes any scenario of purely bilateral peace talks or negotiations between Russia and Ukraine difficult to envisage. But how then to break the ice? Could international actors make a difference? Some have tried in the past, individually or partly together, but these efforts have failed to produce a breakthrough and, in most cases, have barely begun to address the underlying conflict.

Ukraine is clearly in favour of third-party engagement, not least to counterbalance Russia’s greater weight at the negotiating table and prevent the existing power asymmetry from translating into a favourable negotiating position for Moscow. Kyiv considers the US, France, the UK and Germany, as well as the European Union, particularly important guarantors of Ukraine’s territorial integrity and sovereignty.

Ironically, Moscow also seems to consider the US a key partner for a peace deal, while at the same time clearly dismissing a role for the Western European states. The Kremlin aspires to a separate great-power deal with the Trump administration, negotiated on an equal footing: an agreement based on divided global spheres of influence, at the expense of Ukraine and ultimately of the cohesion of the Euro-Atlantic alliance.

As these examples show, the involvement of third parties can itself become problematic, especially when the parties to the conflict view them as potential advocates for their own interests rather than as impartial mediators. Furthermore, third parties are never entirely free of interests of their own. Their expectations regarding the outcome of mediation are shaped at the very least by their values, but often also by considerations of political and, not infrequently, economic advantage.

Let us therefore take a closer look at the context and interests of those conflict actors who hope that successful mediation will work to their advantage, and after that at the interests of those who are involved in – or are attempting to engage in – mediation between the disputing parties. Understanding this interplay of interests may help us better assess the opportunities and fallacies associated with peace mediation.

Hope vs. Illusion: The Conflict Parties and Mediation

What conditions might lead parties to a conflict to consider mediation a viable option, and does readiness already require their mutual consent? To anticipate the answer to the second question, this is by no means a requirement. Often, the initiative comes from a party to the conflict that perceives itself to be in a weaker position and considers the risk of total defeat a real possibility if the war continues. In this case, mediation by a third party is initially viewed as a way to correct the real or perceived military imbalance by strengthening one’s own potential negotiating position. At the very least, however, this implicitly carries the hope that third-party intervention will tilt the balance in one’s own favour.

But even the supposedly superior party in military terms – in our case Russia as a nuclear power – may develop an interest in mediation. On the one hand, in a conflict in which front lines have become largely static, it is unclear whether victory on the battlefield can be achieved in the foreseeable future – or at all. On the other hand, a prolonged state of war increasingly affects not only the morale of troops on both sides but also public support for continuing the war, including in the aggressor state as the social and economic costs of war become more directly felt by its own population. When the consequences of the war become immediately apparent to the population – whether through rising casualty figures or growing uncertainty resulting from inflation caused by the ongoing war economy and increasing shortages in basic supplies, such as energy, fuel and everyday goods – the search for a way out of this predicament might involve bringing in a third party.

Engaging a mediator, however, is not without risks. A powerful mediator such as the United States can change the rules of the conflict by exerting strong pressure on one or all parties to encourage them to engage in constructive interaction. As long as the parties expect mediation to serve their own interests, they may welcome strong intervention. However, if the mediator appears, in the eyes of one party, to be favouring the other, the tide may quickly turn, and the mediation effort may lose support. Moscow’s disappointment with regards to the implementation to what Russia thought was agreed with the U.S. during the Alaska Summit is here a case in point.

Even more problematic is a situation in which one side comes to perceive the intervening actor as primarily pursuing interests of its own. The consequences may become apparent only after the conflict has ended, whether in the form of greater political dependence or economic and financial burdens imposed by the mediating party as the price for its engagement. The ambivalence of such engagement is illustrated by the case of Ukraine, where U.S. support has also become linked to negotiations over access to Ukrainian resources. What remains crucial for the parties to the conflict is that the benefits of mediation must be deemed to outweigh any risks that may arise for them in the future.

Maintaining control over events – both during and after the conflict – remains a central concern for the parties. In this respect, the involvement of a third party is always a delicate balancing act. Consequently, mediation by a multilateral actor such as the United Nations, the European Union, or the African Union in other parts of the world, may offer an alternative, as competing interests are, to some extent, balanced within the institution itself. The price, however, may be weaker mediation, as the mediator’s ability to influence political decisions remains limited.

Mediation, in this sense, should therefore be understood as a spectrum rather than a single format. At one end are powerful external actors able to bring considerable leverage to bear, but potentially creating new dependencies. At the other are weaker or multilateral actors that may pose less of a threat to the parties’ autonomy but possess less leverage to move them toward agreement.

Another form of mediation, relying less on leverage than on trust and privileged access, has proven effective in specific cases in the past and could also be an interesting option for mediation efforts between Russia and Ukraine: so-called “insider mediation.”

This involves the confidential exploration of negotiation options through informal channels by individuals who are rooted in, enjoy the trust of, and have privileged access to, the highest levels of one of the conflicting parties. In this case, the “third party” may consist of a pair of respected individuals who are not themselves part of the conflicting parties but are closely familiar with their respective interests and political environments. Working together through a discreet back channel outside formal structures, they can explore ways out of the current impasse and, in the best-case scenario, identify key points for potential compromises and a peace agreement.

The Comprehensive Peace Agreement for Nepal of November 21, 2006, was based on precisely such a constellation. Two respected academics, each enjoying the trust of and maintaining close links to the top leadership of one of the two sides, established a back channel of confidential communication. Their role did not derive from formal political authority or coercive leverage, but from trust, access, contextual knowledge, and discretion. Especially in contexts marked by cultural, religious, or linguistic differences, mediation by individuals who are closely familiar with – and themselves rooted in – the respective communities may be more readily accepted by the top leaders of the parties to a conflict than the involvement of a “neutral” third party with limited understanding of the specific context, the actors involved, and the underlying causes of the conflict. The example illustrates that mediation power does not necessarily derive from formal authority or leverage; it may derive just as effectively from trust and access.

In the realm of high-level politics, there are also interesting examples of successful negotiations prepared in this manner by mandated individuals, such as in the run-up to the 1971 Berlin Agreement. Strictly speaking, this form of insider mediation does not constitute third-party intervention in the conventional sense. Rather, it represents a parallel track of diplomacy or communication on which appointed individuals develop ideas in a protected space – ideas that would very likely be shattered by the confrontational rhetoric of the conflicting parties in a heated public political climate. Incidentally, it is not uncommon for highly sensitive dialogue of this kind to be pursued initially at the level of intelligence agencies.

Mediation, after all, is not only of potential interest to adversaries of equal standing. It can be particularly relevant to parties caught in an asymmetrical relationship and who, as a result, have little or no access to conventional diplomatic channels. This applies, for example, to relations between state actors and rebel groups or insurgent movements in contexts where the state’s monopoly on the use of force has broken down. For both sides, there may be little political or legally viable space – and little appetite – for engaging in direct, publicly transparent dialogue. Private mediation can bridge such political and legal divides without requiring either side to confer recognition or legitimacy on the other simply by entering into direct talks. It may also provide a framework for communication where direct contacts are politically sensitive or legally restricted. This may be particularly relevant where one of the actors is subject to national or international sanctions that restrict direct engagement. It is therefore hardly surprising that non-state armed actors, but also governments and international organizations, frequently seek support from professional mediators who possess the necessary skills and experience but, above all, enjoy sufficient trust among the conflicting parties to act as credible intermediaries. The number of established independent organizations specializing in mediation and mediation support remains relatively small. The Carter Center in the U.S., the Centre for Humanitarian Dialogue in Switzerland, Crisis Management Initiative in Finland, and the Berghof Foundation in Germany all have substantial track records in this field.

Good Offices vs. Interests: Mediators and Conflict

Serious mediation in armed conflicts is an extremely demanding, often protracted endeavour, marked by repeated setbacks and fraught with risk. First and foremost, it requires the acceptance of the parties to the conflict, which is particularly difficult to achieve once positions have become deeply entrenched and ways out of the crisis are either no longer apparent or, at times, not even desired. Mediation, which seeks to create the conditions for changes in attitudes, behaviours, and relationships and for constructively addressing underlying causes, requires patience and, not infrequently, a certain degree of resilience in the face of such deeply entrenched positions. Recurring setbacks are the order of the day. They weigh heavily on the mediation process and frustrate the mediators.

During the intra-Afghan negotiations, the rules of negotiation were finally agreed upon in December 2020 after a prolonged back-and-forth. Yet when the Taliban returned to the negotiating table after a visit to Pakistan following the turn of the year, they simply reneged on the agreement. For their negotiating partner, the delegation of the Islamic Republic, this came as a shock; for the mediators, it meant a return to square one; and for an Afghan-led peace process, it marked the beginning of the end.

From the outset, mediation efforts by the U.S., Qatar, and Egypt in the conflict between Israel and Hamas have oscillated between incremental progress and repeated setbacks. Even after an agreement has been reached, successful mediation cannot be taken for granted. As long as the parties interpret its outcome unilaterally to their own advantage and delay or undermine its implementation, an agreement remains a fragile achievement rather than evidence of successful conflict transformation.

The failure of mediation also poses risks for the mediating parties, as it may damage their reputation and credibility. This risk is all the greater when the impartiality of a mediating party is called into question. Yet impartiality does not necessarily require equal distance from all parties. In this respect – and the Gaza negotiations provide an instructive example – combining actors that enjoy particular access to and influence with different conflict parties, such as Egypt and Qatar, with a powerful external mediator such as the U.S. can be a sensible approach. A comparable constellation proved more effective in the negotiations between the Colombian government and the FARC, where Cuba and Norway served as guarantor countries and Venezuela and Chile accompanied the process. Whether a similarly complementary division of roles can develop into an effective mediation framework for Gaza and Russia/Ukraine remains uncertain.

So why should mediators engage in such a process? Even among states with considerable mediation experience – such as Switzerland, Norway and, more recently, Qatar – the motivations for doing so vary considerably. The relevant question is therefore not whether mediators pursue interests of their own, but what those interests are – and whether they are compatible with the interests of the conflict parties and with the objectives of the mediation process.

Powerful and influential states – or individuals acting with an explicit mandate on their behalf – can bring considerable leverage to mediation. But mediation power can also derive from the personal authority, reputation, and political access of individuals who are no longer bound by government office. Jonathan Powell provides an example of the former; former U.S. President Jimmy Carter and former Finnish President Martti Ahtisaari illustrate the latter. What these different forms of high-level mediation have in common is access: access to political leaders, international networks, and decision-making circles that is rarely available to professional mediators alone. Where an explicit state mandate exists, this may be reinforced by the political weight of the state concerned. Where it does not, personal authority and reputation may themselves become important mediation assets.

Influence and power, however, are no guarantee of success – certainly not in the long term – if the underlying causes of the conflict are not adequately addressed or if the parties to the conflict are reluctant to submit to the mediation efforts of third parties. At the same time, the case of Ahtisaari’s mediation in Aceh and Kosovo demonstrate that former holders of high political office can use the access and authority associated with their previous positions without merely becoming an extension of their governments’ political interests.

In the case of Jimmy Carter, for example, his mediation initiative in North Korea was controversial within the U.S. and initially met with considerable criticism, including from within the political establishment. The Carter Center in the U.S. and the Crisis Management Initiative founded by Ahtisaari in Finland continue the legacy of their founders. Following the deaths of the two, however, their influence rests less on personal political authority and increasingly on institutional reputation and the professional expertise of their staff.

International organizations such as the United Nations and the African Union derive their mediation authority from yet another source. Rather than relying primarily on the leverage of a single powerful state, they can draw on institutional legitimacy, collective political backing, and, not least, the standing of the individuals mandated to act on their behalf. Particularly noteworthy are former United Nations Secretary-General Kofi Annan in Kenya and, in a different institutional context, the roles played by former Nigerian President Olusegun Obasanjo, former Kenyan President Uhuru Kenyatta, and former South African Deputy President Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka in the AU-led process that resulted in the Pretoria Agreement in November 2022, which brought an end to two years of devastating war between the Ethiopian federal government and the Tigrayan forces.

The role of independent mediators may become particularly important where powerful states are reluctant to expose themselves directly to negotiation processes with uncertain outcomes. Supporting mediation at arm’s length allows governments to contribute political backing, expertise, or financial resources without necessarily assuming the full political and reputational risks of direct involvement.

This space is also occupied by professional mediation organizations whose influence rests less on the political reputation of prominent representatives than on the expertise of their staff, their long-term knowledge of specific conflict contexts, and their direct access to actors involved in local conflicts – assets that state-sponsored mediators do not necessarily possess. Their comparative advantage may lie precisely in their ability to maintain relationships and channels of communication over extended periods, including when official diplomacy has stalled or when governments cannot, or do not wish to, engage directly.

Governments or international organisations nevertheless occasionally serve as sponsors behind the scenes, as do private philanthropists and foundations. Switzerland and Norway, for example, have long supported professional mediation initiatives, while Qatar has increasingly invested in mediation-related institutions and activities of its own. Similarly, the European Institute of Peace in Brussels has engaged in numerous conflict contexts with financial support from European governments and the European Commission. Other organizations, such as the Berghof Foundation in Germany, have roots in values-driven philanthropic engagement. More generally, the motivations behind such support may differ considerably.

Interests, in this context, should not be simply equated with material or political self-interest. They may equally be values-driven. Long-standing traditions of humanitarian engagement, a foreign-policy commitment to peaceful conflict resolution, the pursuit of international reputation, or the desire of private individuals to use their wealth to support conflict transformation where government involvement has failed or remains insufficient can all provide powerful incentives for sustained mediation engagement. At the same time, such normative motivations do not necessarily exclude political, strategic, or reputational interests. Different motivations can coexist – and often do.

The appeal of mediation independent of powerful states may be particularly strong for non-state conflict actors who are concerned that accepting state-led mediation could expose them to longer-term political dependence or control. For them, professional or privately supported mediation may offer access to expertise and international networks without creating the same degree of political asymmetry that engagement with a powerful state mediator might entail. The relative absence of coercive leverage may therefore be a weakness in one context but an important source of credibility and trust in another.

This brings us back to some of the common fallacies surrounding mediation. Neither the absence of interests nor equal distance from all parties is necessarily a precondition for effective mediation. Nor does the political weight of a mediator guarantee success. Power may provide leverage but create dependence; limited power may constrain influence but enhance trust and acceptance. What matters, therefore, is less whether a mediator is powerful, neutral, or free of interests than whether the particular combination of interests, access, legitimacy, leverage, and trust is appropriate to the conflict at hand. In a nutshell, there is no “one-size-fits-all” mediation. It is neither a self-contained approach nor a uniform format. The spectrum is broad, ranging from power mediation through professional mediation to insider mediation. The context determines the appropriate format, not the other way around. Perhaps the most consequential fallacy, however, is the assumption that mediation will succeed as long as it is done “correctly.” Just as with dialogue and negotiations, as discussed in the previous blog posts, an agreement alone does not constitute successful mediation. Sustainability ultimately depends on the willingness of the parties to commit to nonviolent interaction on a lasting basis and to address their conflicts through peaceful means.

Lessons Learned

The most important conclusion to be drawn from the preceding three texts is that negotiations, dialogue, and mediation are intrinsically interdependent and can develop considerable synergies – provided they are approached without illusions. They are not mutually exclusive alternatives, but functionally distinct approaches that can serve a common objective and must ultimately complement one another, particularly if an armed conflict is to be resolved on a lasting basis. The crucial question, therefore, is not which of these approaches should be considered ideal, but under what circumstances, at what point in time, and in what sequence – or combination – their respective potential can best be realized.

Here, too, there is no simple rule. Negotiations between key stakeholders may be necessary to establish the framework for a structured dialogue and, once consensus has been reached, to agree on binding steps for implementation. Different dialogue formats are needed to prepare for negotiations and to anchor outcomes negotiated among leadership elites across broader segments of society, thereby enabling the deeper causes of the conflict to be addressed and transformed within a contractually secured framework. At every stage of a peace process, mediation can support the process, provided it allows the parties to the conflict sufficient space to resolve their existing disputes on their own.

But what does this mean in the current context of the war between Russia and Ukraine? How might the three approaches described above be effectively combined to help reverse the ongoing spiral of escalation? Given the military stalemate and ever-increasing tensions – with the danger of an uncontrolled conflagration – can external actors, perhaps including Germany, contribute to de-escalation?

More recently, the U.S. has sought to assume a mediating role. There is little doubt that the United States possesses enormous leverage, possibly more than any other single actor. However, Washington has also undermined its credibility as an honest broker, with both Russia and Ukraine accusing it at different times of favoring the other side. At the same time, it has exposed itself to widespread suspicion that it prioritizes its own interests over the goal of ending the conflict as quickly as possible.

European states have interests of their own but could mobilize considerable political and economic resources in support of a peace process. Russia, however, does not regard them as neutral actors. China, meanwhile, has put forward diplomatic initiatives but has not developed into a mediator accepted as such by both sides and has maintained a position considerably closer to Moscow than to Kyiv. The United Nations possesses considerable international legitimacy, but the Security Council’s ability to act is structurally constrained by Russia’s veto. Regional organizations such as the OSCE likewise possess institutional legitimacy but limited leverage. Quiet diplomacy – whether in the form of professional mediation, insider mediation, or diplomatic back channels – could help explore avenues where public diplomacy, due to high political costs, allows for little progress.

All these actors – governments, international organizations, and non-state mediators alike – therefore possess particular capabilities while at the same time facing the limits of their own influence. No single actor can do everything – nor should it be expected to. Different actors can operate alongside one another, or even simultaneously, bringing their respective strengths to different parts of the process without overburdening any single mediation format.

If mediation is indeed a spectrum rather than a single format, and if negotiation, dialogue, and mediation perform different but complementary functions, what would such an architecture look like in the case of Russia and Ukraine?

In this regard, Germany is an interesting case in point. It possesses considerable political and economic weight, but is not a superpower and is integrated in the EU, maintains close relations with Ukraine, but entertained functioning various communication channels to Russia in the past, has a strong interest in a sustainable European security order, and has a remarkable tradition of supporting dialogue and civilian conflict management in contexts of crisis. Yet it has so far been remarkably reluctant to translate these assets into a distinct mediation or dialogue initiative in this particular conflict. Previous efforts looked rather random and were hardly coordinated, therefore did not result in something like a promising process.

However, there is no serious reason to assume that supporting Ukraine and keeping channels of communication or mediation with Russia open are politically incompatible. A mediator’s impartiality does not require equidistance. Germany would therefore by no means have to become politically “neutral” between Russia and Ukraine in order to support certain dialogue, exploratory, or mediation efforts in addition to parallel efforts by other actors. In other words, supporting Ukraine against Russian aggression does not necessarily preclude participation in a coordinated mediation effort, provided that the role, mandate, and limits of such engagement are transparent to all sides.

Under present conditions, however, a highly visible German diplomatic initiative would be unlikely to gain sufficient acceptance on all sides. Russia’s sharp anti-Western rhetoric, the deeply entrenched positions of the parties, and suspicions that Moscow is waging a hybrid war against Ukraine’s supporting nations leave little room for an overt German mediation initiative. Exploratory approaches – which have often helped prepare later diplomatic breakthroughs – would therefore have to begin discreetly, if at all.

Germany certainly has considerable experience in this area, not only in the context of German-German rapprochement in the 1980s, but also in connection with preparatory peace talks in El Salvador, Nicaragua, and the Middle East. Quiet diplomacy requires patience, perseverance, and a willingness to accept political risk without the prospect of immediate public recognition. Yet its impact need not be less significant than that of more visible instruments of power and deterrence.

The lesson from negotiations, dialogue, and mediation is ultimately the same: none offers a solution on its own. Their potential lies in combining them intelligently, assigning different roles to actors, and creating space for movement where confrontation alone no longer does. An initiative on discreet and explorative talks about talks could provide a first entry into a gradual process: on structure and format of exploration (shuttle mediation, discreet expert meetings), on timing (schedule, pacing, stock-taking frequency), on procedures (to handle the sticking-points and deadlocks), on the role and mandate of mediators and mediation, and, last but not least, on clear rules of communication (strict confidentiality vs. necessary transparency).

For Russia and Ukraine, such an architecture and process would offer no guarantee of peace. But it might offer something that is currently in dangerously short supply: a way out of the logic of escalation.