The deal that never was: Ukraine-US mineral deal and its uncertain future
What did the US want from Ukraine and what did both countries get in the end?
"This agreement covers minerals, oil, gas, and infrastructure assets. It is a genuinely mutually beneficial deal that strengthens ties between the Ukrainian people and the American business community," said US Treasury Secretary Scott Bessant, almost word for word, when discussing the so-called "great mineral deal." Negotiations on the agreement's text are complete, and it is now ready to be signed.
But why did the secretary choose such an unusual phrasing—linking the people of one country with the business community of another? We could follow the lead of Russian experts and media, who see conspiracy theories everywhere, and interpret this as questioning the legitimacy of Ukraine's political leadership or even as an attack on Ukrainian statehood.
However, the real explanation is far less dramatic. Since Ukraine's constitution designates its natural resources as belonging to the people, any agreements regarding their use are, by definition, made on their behalf. There's also an element of the MAGA effect here—powerful American business stepping in to support the long-suffering Ukrainian people. This idea has already been hinted at numerous times and will be stated even more explicitly once the deal is signed.
The key takeaway is that this is an interstate agreement, one that has undergone a process evolving from forceful takeovers to diplomatic resolution.
Out of chains, but not quite free
In 2009, Gazprom forced Naftogaz of Ukraine into a gas contract under the "take or pay" rule, requiring payments even for Russian gas that was never received. Periodically, the Russian monopoly would present Ukraine with billion-dollar invoices for these unused volumes, setting strict deadlines for payment. Putting Ukraine "on the meter" was a favorite Kremlin tactic—turning economic pressure into political leverage. This criminal cynicism translated into double payments by Ukraine (both to the Russian supplier and a shadowy intermediary) or the perpetual extension of Sevastopol's lease for Russia's Black Sea Fleet.
It seemed that Ukraine had finally escaped this trap through Stockholm arbitration, resilience, and energy diversification. But we weren't the only ones who learned from the experience. The US saw the value of pressuring Ukraine into an unfavorable deal—trading the tangible for the uncertain. Coincidentally (or not), Donald Trump's shifting demands for compensation on aid to Ukraine—floating between $500 billion, $350 billion, $100 billion, or simply "give me something"—surfaced just as official Washington-Moscow relations began to warm. Needless to say, Russian propaganda had a field day with it.
Meanwhile, Russia was handed a golden opportunity—and they seized it, fueling divisions within Ukraine while praising Trump. At the same time, as Ukraine and the US moved toward implementing their agreements, Moscow saw an opening and quickly put its own proposals on the table. According to Putin, his aide Ushakov, and special envoy Dmitriev, Russia was prepared to resume titanium and aluminum exports to the US, collaborate on production in the Krasnoyarsk region, launch an "energy and metallurgical megaproject" in Siberia, and expand Arctic development across multiple sectors.
None of this is directly tied to the Ukrainian-American agreement, but if the deal were to fall apart during the preparation phase, it would have far-reaching consequences—especially for the broader goal of establishing a just and lasting peace. Moreover, if the agreement is signed and successfully implemented across ALL of Ukraine, it could shake Russia's confidence in the permanence of its newly claimed "state borders." One way or another, this struggle is far from over. In the meantime, Kyiv's new "mineral partnership" with Washington has sparked concerns—both over the unilateral nature of US interests and the pressure to ensure their strict enforcement.
Rare earth swing
Photo: President's Office
So, on February 12, US Treasury Secretary Scott Bessant arrived in Ukraine to personally present President Volodymyr Zelensky with a draft partnership agreement—offering investments in Ukraine's mineral extraction sector in exchange for continued assistance. Rumor had it that Zelensky was expected to sign on the spot, without hesitation or amendments. That didn't happen. We'll skip over the Munich discussions with J.D. Vance and the subsequent negotiations, which carried more than a hint of blackmail, as just another layer of the game.
Then, on February 22, speaking at the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) in Washington, Donald Trump made a bold demand: Ukraine must "restore justice" by repaying the aid provided by the Biden administration—not in cash, but in rare earth metals and oil. There's no point in dissecting the arithmetic behind the figures he cited—that's not the real issue. What matters is the underlying idea: making Ukraine pay for what was given as free assistance.
Of course, the claim that "without the Americans, Ukrainians would have lost their state" remains on the table. But the moral weight of such statements—and similar justifications—is hardly worth analyzing. Donald Trump has repeatedly demonstrated that his sense of "chosenness" allows him to manipulate any issue, sidestepping both individual and collective conscience. After all, selective memory and strategic blindness are always an option.
The situation initially looked dire, with Ukraine painted as both a dictatorship's accomplice and the instigator of war. Perhaps, one day, a negotiator will reveal the full details of this process, and it will become the subject of a political thriller—because the events certainly unfolded along a dizzying trajectory. One moment, Trump refuses to meet with Zelensky; the next, reports emerge of Zelensky "shouting at Treasury Secretary Bessant"; then, rumors swirl about the complete sell-off of Ukraine. Yet, in the end, the final agreement—at least in the version published by European Pravda—turned out to be far from catastrophic. Not ideal, certainly not final, but astonishing nonetheless. If only because the expected outcome never seemed to align with the game plan. The final score remains unclear, but the result appears to be a hard-fought draw that both sides can live with.
The original, near-servile terms of "give everything in exchange for nothing" vanished as if they had never been on the table. Instead, what emerged was a framework that resembles a political and economic balance. In essence:
- Instead of transferring half of Ukraine's resource wealth under total US "effective control," a joint fund was established. Ukraine will allocate 50% of its future resource revenues to this fund, which will be co-managed by both parties.
- The US is no longer demanding repayment in the hundreds of billions. On the contrary, it will invest in Ukraine's economic development through the fund.
- Neither country can sell its shares in the fund without mutual consent.
- The agreement does not conflict with Ukraine's European integration but does not provide concrete security guarantees—only recognition of Kyiv's right to pursue them, along with U.S. support.
Further clarification came from Prime Minister Shmyhal (hinting at upcoming negotiations on a Reconstruction Investment Fund) and from Podoliak, who revealed that the agreement will include annexes on economic cooperation and security guarantees.
Clause 10, in principle, delivers exactly what was needed: beyond just endorsing Ukraine's aspirations, it also provides specifics—"this Bilateral Agreement and the Agreement on the Fund will constitute integral elements of the architecture of bilateral and multilateral agreements, as well as concrete steps toward establishing lasting peace and strengthening economic and security stability."
It has Trump's signature style all over it—shifting the responsibility of guaranteeing Ukraine's security onto the three dozen countries with which relevant bilateral agreements exist.
In essence, Ukraine is voluntarily entering into an investment agreement—something it needs both in times of peace and during war or post-war reconstruction—rather than being forced into a hostile takeover disguised as a favor. Of course, not all concerns have been resolved, and questions remain about the commitments each party must make to replenish the fund. But the worst-case scenario did not materialize: Ukraine's resources were not traded for its sovereignty.
At this point, simply holding the line is enough. Trump can chalk this up as a win, a testament to his famed deal-making skills—no objections here, as long as the benefits are genuinely mutual.
