REPORT: Lavrov, the G7, and the Question Moscow Is Asking Trump: Have You Really Changed Sides?

Maxime Marquette

2026-07-20 15:33:36

The August 2025 Summit and Its Ambiguities

To understand Russia’s post-G7 concerns, we must look back to the summit in Anchorage, Alaska, in August 2025. On August 15, 2025, Trump and Putin met at a U.S. military base in Alaska—the first face-to-face meeting between the two presidents since the start of Trump’s presidency. The summit ended without a formal agreement, without a joint statement, and without an announced ceasefire. Yet Russia had come away with a very specific interpretation, which Russian officials would come to call the “spirit of Anchorage”—a term that, according to analysts, represents Moscow’s reading of an informal agreement: the withdrawal of Ukrainian forces from the rest of the Donbas in exchange for a freeze on the front lines elsewhere.

This “Spirit of Anchorage” did not appear in any official documents. It existed only in Russian statements. And for months, Moscow had used it as a diplomatic reference—implying that Trump had implicitly accepted Russia’s terms regarding the Donbas. The Ukrainian response had been unambiguous: Foreign Minister Andrii Sybiha had stated that “if the ‘Spirit of Anchorage’ ever existed, it is certainly dead now.” Zelensky, for his part, had reiterated that he would not cede any territory to Russia without a fight.

The “spirit of Anchorage” is one of the most daring—or most cynical, depending on your point of view—diplomatic constructs of this war. Moscow took a summit that produced no agreement and turned it into a negotiating benchmark. It’s a clever move. But it only works if Trump plays along. And since Evian, Trump hasn’t exactly been playing the same game.

Macron and the “Death” of the Anchorage Agreements at Evian

What Macron Told Lavrov, According to Lavrov Himself

The central point of Lavrov’s statements on June 24, 2026, concerned information that Macron allegedly conveyed during the Evian discussions: the Anchorage agreements had been “buried” during the summit talks. This information—reported by Lavrov, not by Macron directly—is explosive in the Russian diplomatic context. If the “Anchorage agreements” are buried, Russia’s entire negotiation strategy collapses: the reference to Ukraine’s withdrawal from the Donbas, the argument that Trump had implicitly endorsed Russia’s positions, and the diplomatic leverage Moscow had been using since August 2025.

Lavrov had attempted to downplay the impact of this information by saying that he did not want to “even suppose” that the Anchorage summit had been “a tactic to buy time to rearm the regime in Kyiv”—while at the same time putting forward exactly that hypothesis. This is the rhetoric of performative denial: saying you don’t think something while clearly thinking it. Ryabkov, the Deputy Foreign Minister, went even further, accusing Washington of straying from the “fundamental understandings” reached in Anchorage and of “aligning itself with the most rabid anti-Russian policies” of the United Kingdom and France.

Ryabkov accuses Washington of aligning itself with the “most rabid anti-Russian policies” of France and the United Kingdom. This hyperbolic language speaks volumes about the Kremlin’s mindset in the face of a West that refuses to back down. If defending a sovereign country under attack means being “rabid,” then the West fully embraces that label.

Rubio makes it clear: There was no agreement in Anchorage

The Manama Declaration That Sets the Record Straight

Speaking from Manama, the capital of Bahrain, on June 25, 2026, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio made his position crystal clear: “There was no agreement in Alaska. There was a proposal in Alaska. But in Alaska, there was no agreement. If an agreement had been reached [in Anchorage], the war would have ended.” In just a few words, this explosive statement shatters the entire construct of the “spirit of Anchorage” that Moscow had been cultivating for months. Rubio isn’t saying that Trump switched sides. He’s saying that Russia had built a diplomatic fiction out of a summit that produced no agreement.

Rubio’s statement also reveals something important about the U.S. position: the United States did not switch to the Russian side in August 2025, nor is it there in June 2026. What Trump had sought in Anchorage was a diplomatic opening—discussed “proposals,” not concluded “agreements.” Russia had interpreted these proposals as American concessions that had already been secured. Rubio corrects this interpretation with the precision of a lawyer. And for Moscow, that is painful. Putin himself said in Anchorage: “I take responsibility; I support your proposals. That was already a compromise.” But a verbal compromise without a signed document is just smoke and mirrors.

Rubio says, “There was no agreement.” Putin had said, “That was already a compromise.” ” The difference between the two statements says it all about how Russia has been conducting diplomacy since 2022: turning conversations into commitments, turning proposals into agreements, turning nuances into capitulations. And when the other side refuses to play along with this charade, accuse Washington of bad faith. That’s been the playbook from the start.

Trump in Evian: The Changing Camp

The G7 That Took Moscow by Surprise

What happened in Evian in June 2026 was partly predictable, partly surprising. Predictable: the G7 would reaffirm its support for Ukraine. Surprising: Trump stayed for the entire summit—unlike the previous year, when he left early—and signed the final communiqué, which included references to the war in Ukraine. G7 leaders agreed to increase deliveries of air defense equipment to Ukraine, to “strengthen sanctions against the Russian war economy”—including those targeting fossil fuel revenues—and to grant licenses to Ukrainian companies to produce long-range missiles and air defense systems on Ukrainian soil.

Macron, presiding over the summit, described a “very profound shift in the U.S. approach” toward Ukraine. German Chancellor Friedrich Merz called the final communiqué a “success.” Italy, France, the United Kingdom, Canada, and Japan—all highlighted the G7’s unexpected unity on Ukraine. Trump, for his part, had said in Evian that Russia “must reach an agreement; Russia has lost a tremendous number of people, just like Ukraine.” He added: “I will do everything in my power.” These are not the words of a neutral mediator. They are those of a partner who is beginning to lose patience with Moscow.

Trump signing the G7 communiqué on Ukraine. Trump saying “Russia must reach an agreement.” Trump staying for the entire summit. Individually, these are subtle signals. Taken together, they paint a picture that Moscow cannot ignore: growing American impatience with a Russia that continues to bomb civilians while claiming to want to negotiate. Even Trump has his limits. He likes to win. And wasting time with Putin, who isn’t budging, is starting to feel like a loss.

Witkoff and Kushner: Negotiators Expected in Moscow

A Dialogue on Hold

Despite post-G7 tensions, Lavrov made a point of emphasizing on June 24 that Moscow remained committed to dialogue with Washington and was awaiting the outcome of the planned visit by Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner to Moscow. Kremlin spokesperson Dmitry Peskov confirmed that same day that Witkoff and Kushner were “busy with other matters”—namely, negotiations with Iran—but that Russia expected to resume contact “once they are available.” This mix of irritation and diplomatic courtesy was characteristic of Russian diplomacy with Washington in 2026: publicly criticizing “breaches” of the Anchorage agreements while keeping channels of communication open.

Witkoff and Kushner had already made several visits to Moscow—Witkoff was on his sixth trip in ten months, according to reports from January 2026. They had spoken with Zelensky by phone on June 8, 2026, a conversation the Ukrainian president had described as “very positive.” But they still had not visited Kyiv in person—a point that Zelensky had publicly noted as “not very respectful.” This asymmetry—multiple visits to Moscow, none to Kyiv—says something about U.S. diplomatic priorities leading up to Evian. The G7 may have begun to change that.

Six visits to Moscow for Witkoff, zero to Kyiv. I don’t need to add much to that. The facts speak for themselves. And Zelensky, who noticed the imbalance and publicly pointed it out, isn’t complaining. He’s documenting it. So that when the history books are written, it will be clear that Ukraine had asked to be treated as an equal partner. Not as a problem to be managed.

Russia's Uncompromising Demands

What Putin Wants—and What Ukraine Rejects

Behind Lavrov’s diplomatic rhetoric about the “spirit of Anchorage” and the post-G7 confusion, Russia’s demands remain the same as they were on day one. Rubio put it bluntly: “Russia wants, among other things, the entire Donbas to be transferred to it. ” Added to this are: Ukraine’s permanent exclusion from NATO, a reduction in the size of the Ukrainian military, and recognition of Russian control over Crimea, Donetsk, Luhansk, Zaporizhzhia, and Kherson—in other words, capitulation disguised as peace. These demands have not changed since 2022. What Russia is testing is solely the West’s ability to maintain its resistance to these demands over time.

The Ukrainian response is just as consistent: Zelenskyy will not cede any territory to Russia. He said so in Anchorage (Trump conveyed to Zelenskyy that Putin wanted Ukraine to withdraw from the Donbas—Zelenskyy refused). He said so at the G7. He said so in his open letter to Putin dated June 4, 2026, a proposal for a bilateral meeting that Putin had rejected, saying he “saw no point in meeting with Zelensky.” Meanwhile, Putin set forth four conditions for negotiations with Kyiv—including the “Anchorage terms” and the “realities on the ground” (i.e., Russian territorial gains as starting points). These are conditions for surrender, not for negotiation.

Putin refuses to meet with Zelensky but agrees to meet with Witkoff and Kushner six times. Putin says he wants peace but bombs seven civilians in a single day in Sumy, Kherson, and Dnipro. Putin says he wants to negotiate but makes Ukraine’s withdrawal from its own territory a precondition. Reading these facts together points to exactly one thing: a regime that wants the West to give in, not a regime that wants peace.

Ukraine as an Unexpected Lever

Ukrainian Drones Impress Trump

A report published by Semafor on June 23, 2026, sheds interesting light on the diplomatic dynamics: Trump is reportedly “impressed by the deep Ukrainian drone strikes” into Russian territory and “appreciates winners”—adding that “Ukrainian victories on the battlefield have given him new leverage.” Ukrainian drone experts are advising the Pentagon, and Ukrainian military technology is “in high demand.” This portrayal of a Trump influenced by Ukraine’s military performance is consistent with what happened in Evian.

The Ukraine of 2026 is no longer the Ukraine of 2022 that was asking everyone for help. It is a country that has developed a significant defense industry, produces drones capable of striking Moscow and fuel depots deep within Russia, is waging a sophisticated logistical campaign against Russian supply lines, and whose military specialists have become sought-after advisors. This rise in Ukrainian power is changing the diplomatic calculus. A Trump who “likes winners” and sees Ukraine performing well militarily is not the same Trump who, in January 2025, wanted a quick deal at any cost.

Ukraine advising the Pentagon on drones. This is the most remarkable reversal of this war. The country that was expected to fall within forty-eight hours at the start of the invasion is now the provider of drone military doctrine to the United States. If that doesn’t say something about Ukrainian resistance and innovation under pressure, I don’t know what would.

What the G7 Actually Decided

The 27 Conclusions of the Evian Summit

Beyond the rhetoric, the G7 summit in Evian produced concrete decisions regarding Ukraine. Leaders agreed to increase deliveries of air defense missiles and to grant licenses to Ukrainian companies to produce long-range missiles and air defense systems. They agreed on a “winter support package”—a preemptive measure against Russian attacks on energy infrastructure as winter 2026–2027 approaches, given the 96 strikes on Naftogaz documented since January 2026. They agreed to “strengthen sanctions on the Russian war economy,” specifically targeting revenue from fossil fuels—the main source of funding for Putin’s war effort.

These decisions are not spectacular on paper. But their context is: they were made with Trump’s active support, in a communiqué that Trump signed, at a summit that Trump did not leave prematurely. If the G7 summit in Évian does indeed represent “a very profound shift in the U.S. approach” toward Ukraine, as Macron put it, then its decisions carry more weight than those of previous summits. Credible U.S. support changes the deterrence equation against Russia. And that is exactly what worries Lavrov.

Licenses to produce missiles for Ukraine. This may be the G7’s most significant decision for Ukraine in the long term: not to supply weapons, but to allow Ukraine to manufacture them itself. It’s the difference between giving a fish and teaching someone to fish. Diplomatically, it’s also a message to Moscow: Ukraine will no longer depend on external supplies. It will produce its own missiles. And that is something Putin cannot circumvent with sanctions or intimidation.

Conclusion: The Trump-Zelensky-Putin triangle remains at the heart of the war

The Real Test Ahead

Russia’s post-G7 diplomatic anxiety is real and understandable. Lavrov, Ryabkov, and other Moscow officials had built their negotiating strategy on a precise reading of U.S. behavior: Trump is looking for a quick way out; Trump is willing to sacrifice positions on Ukraine for a deal; Trump will always prefer a deal to confrontation. This reading was partially called into question at Evian. Not entirely, not definitively—but partially. And that’s enough to create uncertainty in the corridors of the Kremlin.

The question Lavrov poses—“Have we understood what happened in Evian?”—is the right one. But the answer will not be diplomatic. It will be military. Russia continues to strike Ukraine while pretending to negotiate. Ukraine continues to destroy Russian logistics while saying it wants peace. Trump continues to tweet platitudes about the need for an agreement while keeping envoys Witkoff and Kushner occupied with Iran. And Zelensky continues to ask for missiles while his cities burn. That is the reality of Evian in June 2026: many conflicting signals, and only one certainty—the war continues.

Lavrov asks, “What happened in Evian?” The real answer is simple: Ukraine kept fighting, innovating, and resisting. And the world has taken notice, including Trump. This isn’t a permanent shift in allegiance—Trump is too unpredictable for that. But it’s a lesson: when you hold out long enough, even lukewarm allies eventually choose a side. Ukraine has been holding out since 2022. The G7 has finally acknowledged this clearly.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist