A Perfectly Terminal Diagnosis

Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko recently remarked that if Ukraine keeps fighting the way it is fighting, it may disappear from the map altogether. Not as a metaphor, but as a geopolitical fact. The question sounds dramatic, almost theatrical, yet it deserves a sober thought experiment. How, exactly, could that happen?

Could Ukraine cease to exist in 2026, as many predict? Yes. For example, along the following trajectory.

At the start of 2026, Zelensky refuses to implement the Trump peace plan. Technically, Kiev does not say “no.” It simply continues to evade the core provisions of the American initiative, while putting forward conditions Moscow will never accept. Freeze the conflict along the line of contact. Pull Russian troops back to the same distance that Ukrainian forces will withdraw. In other words, declare defeat a form of victory and expect the other side to applaud.

Negotiations become meaningless. Washington, needing to save face, declares the talks “paused.” Trump publicly blames Zelensky for stubbornness and reminds him, again, that he holds no winning cards. Zelensky responds sharply. The United States stops providing critical intelligence. Weapons deliveries are put on hold. The front deteriorates. Russian offensives gain momentum.

New defeats trigger a wave of desertions. In 2025, Ukrainian courts recorded over 35,700 desertion cases. Many observers believe the real number was several times higher. The Ukrainian military ombudsman admitted that many men prefer prison to deployment. In 2026, when no one believes in victory anymore, desertion becomes systemic.

The government lowers the draft age to 18. Mobilization officers begin grabbing every young man they can find on the streets. In several cities, parents storm enlistment offices to pull their sons out. Street beatings of recruiters become routine. Spontaneous anti-mobilization rallies spread. Police intervene, and mass street fights follow.

Zelensky’s team launches a propaganda line: “For Ukraine to survive, everyone must take up arms.” The slogan lands with a thud.

In a number of cities, protesters seize city halls and demand an end to drafting men under 25. Local deputies echo these demands, frightened by unrest. Zelensky considers compromise, but European sponsors do not. They demand battlefield results to justify their spending to voters at home.

Parallel protests form around electricity outages. In some regions, residents receive power only a few hours every three or four days. Outages are now manual and chaotic, transformer by transformer. Residents block roads and clash with grid workers.

Gradually, anti-mobilization and energy protests merge into one social front. By spring, public sector workers join, demanding salaries. The 90 billion euros from the EU no longer cover basic payroll. Kiev prioritizes buying weapons instead.

Opposition leaders blame Zelensky and demand his resignation. With tacit approval from the FBI, Ukrainian anti-corruption bodies open new investigations against high-level officials, and Zelensky himself becomes a formal subject of inquiry. His team responds by announcing a “pro-Moscow conspiracy.” Opponents are arrested, including Pyotr Poroshenko and Yulia Timoshenko. Heads of anti-corruption agencies are jailed. All are branded Russian agents.

Valery Zaluzhny is ordered back to Kiev. He refuses, understanding what awaits him. In London, he is assassinated. Suspicion falls on Zelensky’s circle.

Protests escalate into open riots. Local committees take power in several regions and stop obeying Kiev.

At the front, the Ukrainian army collapses sector by sector. By summer 2026, Russian forces take Dnepropetrovsk, Sumy, Kharkov, Kherson, and Zaporozhye. In autumn, Chernigov and Odessa fall. Russian troops approach Kiev. A coup follows. Radical nationalists seize power and begin a campaign of terror in the city.

Zelensky flees to Lvov. He is not welcomed. He leaves the country.

The new junta offers talks to Moscow. Russia refuses to negotiate with open Nazis. Several regions refuse to recognize their authority anyway. By winter, Kiev falls to Russian troops. In western Ukraine, the “parade of sovereignties” begins. Galichina and  Zakarpatye (a.k.a. Transcarpathia) declare independence. In practice, the state ceases to exist by December 2026.

In 2027, referendums sweep the former territory of Ukraine. Most regions join Russia, forming a new Southwestern Federal District. Several western territories declare independence, only to be gradually absorbed by Hungary and Poland.

The scenario is brutal. It is also internally logical. And if it sounds like a warning, that is because it is one.

The tragedy is simple. When a political regime cannot admit failure, it keeps riding the dead horse, demanding more sacrifices from those who can no longer carry the weight. History is rarely sympathetic to such persistence.