Russian President Vladimir Putin has once again declared a ceasefire in Ukraine — but if history and timing are anything to go by, this one is as unlikely to stick as all the others.

The Kremlin’s latest offer, running from May 8 to May 11, comes neatly wrapped in the patriotic packaging of Victory Day, when Russia commemorates the defeat of Nazi Germany in World War II.

It’s a sacred moment on the Russian calendar, but the fear is that Putin is using it not to bring real peace, but to win a public relations war, at home and abroad.

This is not a ceasefire built on trust or diplomacy.

It’s a stage-managed pause, likely designed to make Russia look reasonable while laying the groundwork to blame Ukraine for an inevitable failure.

And in the background, there’s another calculation: sidelining the United States — and Donald Trump in particular — from playing mediator.

A war wrapped in symbolism

It’s no accident that the ceasefire begins on May 8 and encompasses May 9 — Russia’s grand Victory Day.

Each year, Moscow stages elaborate military parades to showcase its strength, legacy, and nationalism – and this year, the optics are more important than ever.

A temporary halt in hostilities gives Putin the opportunity to claim the moral high ground, portraying Russia not just as a military superpower, but as a force for peace.

But it is peace on Moscow’s terms. The Kremlin’s official statement makes that perfectly clear, warning that “in the event of violations of the ceasefire by the Ukrainian side, the Armed Forces of the Russian Federation will give an adequate and effective response”.

It’s a familiar tactic: build in plausible deniability and prepare to punish your opponent for non-compliance — even if you were never truly committed yourself.

Trump’s growing frustration – and Putin’s leverage

The international context adds another layer.

Donald Trump, keen to demonstrate his deal-making credentials, has made peace in Ukraine a personal project. But after months of stalled diplomacy, he’s growing impatient.

His press secretary admitted this week that Trump is “increasingly frustrated with leaders of both countries” and wants a permanent ceasefire, not token gestures.

This three-day ceasefire may be Putin’s way of controlling the pace — and the optics — of diplomacy.

It signals willingness, but only on his terms.

And if Ukraine refuses to match the offer precisely, Putin gets to appear conciliatory while blaming Kyiv for being uncooperative.

In the process, he subtly challenges the legitimacy of US-led mediation. Why should Washington dictate the terms, Moscow might argue, when Russia is making all the peaceful overtures?

Ukraine calls the bluff

Ukrainian Foreign Minister Andrii Sybiha saw straight through it.

“Why wait until May 8th?” he asked.

“If the fire can be ceased now… then do it.”

He also called for a 30-day ceasefire, not a symbolic three-day pause for parades.

Ukraine’s message is clear: if Russia truly wants peace, it can start today — and show real commitment by making it last.

This puts the Kremlin on the spot.

A longer ceasefire could give Ukraine time to regroup, rearm, or consolidate support from Western allies.

And Moscow may not be ready for that.

So instead, Putin offers a ceasefire too short to matter, but just long enough to accuse Ukraine of being unreasonable if it doesn’t play along.

A repeating pattern

This isn’t the first time the Kremlin has pulled this stunt.

There have been more than 20 ceasefire attempts since Russia launched its full-scale invasion in February 2022.

Virtually all have failed — often within hours.

The most recent, a 30-hour truce over Orthodox Easter, saw a brief dip in fighting, followed by immediate accusations of violations on both sides.

It was, predictably, a PR exercise that collapsed under its own weight.

Each time, the script is the same.

Russia announces a ceasefire “on humanitarian grounds,” accuses Ukraine of non-compliance, then resumes hostilities with moral cover.

The international press dutifully reports the offer, giving the illusion that Russia is trying to end the war. Meanwhile, bombs continue to fall.

Peace as theatre

This latest move is not about ending the war. It’s about managing the narrative.

At home, it reassures the Russian public that Putin is pursuing peace — a useful message amid economic strain and growing casualties.

Abroad, it sends a signal to Washington and Europe: Russia is talking peace, but Ukraine won’t listen. It’s a setup, pure and simple.

But this time, the stakes are different.

The Trump administration has threatened to withdraw from peace negotiations if progress isn’t made.

And Ukraine, backed by European allies, is calling for something real — a month-long truce as a prelude to real talks.

If Russia declines, the illusion of good faith collapses.

The Kremlin knows this. And it may welcome it.

If the West walks away in frustration, and Ukraine is left alone at the table, then Putin gets what he really wants: a peace process shaped on his terms, in his language, for his audience — not Trump’s, not Kyiv’s, and certainly nobody else’s.