On the Question of Peace, Two Nobel Laureates Issue a Warning

On December 10, Ukraine said that control of eastern Donetsk and the Zaporizhzhia nuclear power plant remain unresolved under a U.S.-backed peace framework. Kyiv has pressed for immediate security guarantees, while Moscow continues to demand territorial concessions.

Even as talks continue in Washington, Moscow, and European capitals, civil society leaders warn that peace cannot be achieved solely through diplomatic negotiations or territorial compromise. Among those leading this call are Oleksandra Romantsova, Executive Director of Ukraine’s Center for Civil Liberties (CCL), and Natalia Morozova, a key member of the Russian Memorial Human Rights Center.

As co-laureates of the 2022 Nobel Peace Prize—alongside Belarusian activist Ales Bialiatski—both women stand at the forefront of human rights movements on opposing sides of the gravest war Europe has seen since 1939. While the conflict is negotiated largely by men at diplomatic and military tables, these women share a common conviction: true peace must be built on justice, accountability, and democratic values rather than political expedience.

That conviction was on display at the International Federation for Human Rights (FIDH) Congress, held from October 27 to 31, 2025, in Bogotá, Colombia, where more than 180 human rights organizations gathered to confront rising authoritarianism and conflict. Among the event’s leading voices, Romantsova and Morozova told More to Her Story that reconciliation without accountability for war crimes and protections for civilians is neither credible nor sustainable.

What does the road to “peace” look like?

The ongoing peace negotiations between Ukraine and Russia, under the watch of the United States and European partners, mark one of the most high-stakes diplomatic efforts in recent history.

Ukraine says any peace deal must start from current front lines and refuses to give up territory, while Russia continues to demand recognition of its annexations and restrictions on Ukraine’s military alliances.

Romantsova told More to Her Story that a fair peace treaty may be unattainable under current conditions. What remains possible, she argued, is an agreement that is durable—one grounded in respect for human rights, democratic norms, and the rule of law.

“When we speak about lasting peace, we are speaking about neighboring countries that respect human rights, the rule of law, and democracy,” she said. “Ukraine is fighting for this, and it is a shared goal for the future of the Ukrainian people. For the Russian population, the situation is much worse now. For 25 years, Putin has cut any human rights and any opportunity to hear critical voices—human rights defenders, journalists, opposition politicians.”

The “Putin effect” on peace

Morozova, a lawyer forced into exile after Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022, said Putin’s rule has foreclosed any credible path to peace, arguing that a sustainable settlement cannot be reached while he remains in power.

As an advocate for freedom and fair governance in Russia, the organization she joined in 2019, Memorial, has established the “100 days after Putin” program, aimed at helping prepare for “the window of opportunity that will open once he is gone.”

“The victory of Ukraine alone does not automatically mean a democratic Russia; it is necessary, but not enough,” she told More to Her Story.

Morozova emphasized that achieving sustainable peace in Eastern Europe depends on two pivotal developments: Ukraine’s victory and the end of the Putin era. She warned that any peace agreements reached before these conditions risk undermining civilian well-being and long-term stability.

“That’s why we are preparing ourselves for the days after Putin. We don’t know when that moment will come, but we are fighting for Ukraine’s victory and for accountability after the war,” she said.

The people are exhausted

For Romantsova, the war has forced Ukrainians to suspend ordinary life, hollowing out community, culture, and a sense of well-being.

“We did not start this war,” she said. “We will stop fighting when the attackers stop. Millions of Ukrainians are now on the front line, and they are not professional soldiers. They are ordinary people — teachers, taxi drivers, journalists, singers, dancers from the National Ballet of Kyiv. They are fighting because Russia attacked.”

That resistance has hardened civilian attitudes on both sides of the border. Ukrainians have increasingly turned to their own networks to defend the country beyond the battlefield, documenting war crimes in hopes of one day holding perpetrators accountable in international courts. In Russia, meanwhile, many who oppose Putin’s rule have been pushed into exile.

Morozova’s story reflects the price of dissent in modern Russia: once an active human-rights advocate within her country, her exile to France has led to her being silenced and banned from public work.

“I am a human rights defender; I never fought with a gun,” she told More to Her Story. “Since 2017, I was banned from Belarus and Russia for speaking about human rights. My colleagues and friends in the Russian Federation are persecuted not because they fight, but because they speak about human rights, justice, and peace.”

For the Russian lawyer, this is the central obstacle to peace: “That’s the problem; this is Russian aggression, and Russia is acting as a terrorist state. You can’t negotiate with terrorists.”

“This isn’t about the Russian people; they can do nothing under such conditions,” she added. “The decision to ceasefire belongs to only one man.”

Next steps

As the war is set to mark its four-year anniversary in February, 2026, the Nobel Peace Prize winners insist that any credible path toward peace must begin not with handshakes, but with justice.

“The most realistic next step is releasing people from captivity, from jail, from isolation. Because we’ve already seen that it’s possible, even with political prisoners in Russia.” said Morozova.

The case of Alexei Gorinov, a 64-year-old municipal deputy, illustrates the urgency in Morozova’s approach. As an opposition politician from the Krasnoselsky district municipal council in Moscow and a member of the Solidarist movement, Gorinov was persecuted for his public condemnation of the war against Ukraine and solidarity for victims.

“All he said was that it was inappropriate to hold a children’s art contest in Russia while children in a neighboring country were dying under Russian bombs. For that single remark, he was sentenced to seven and a half years in prison. Later, his sentence was extended by another three years,” Morozova explained.

Gorinov suffers from a chronic respiratory illness and has lost a part of his left lung following surgery.

“For six months, he was held in a special prison cell, a place without sunlight, completely dark, and in total isolation,” Morozova continued. “He had no contact with his relatives, no visits, and no access to medical care. For him, it was effectively a slow death sentence. And he is not alone — there are hundreds of people in similar conditions, imprisoned simply for their posts, blogs, or words.”

Morozova argued that humanitarian action must come first, particularly for those civilians and soldiers enduring torture or arbitrary detention under Russian authority.

But for Romantsova, liberation is only one part of a larger battle: the war for truth. She believes that confronting disinformation is inseparable from achieving justice.

Morozova also framed accountability as the moral foundation of any future peace. “We must fight impunity. The same people who [committed] war crimes in Chechnya committed them in Donbas in 2014, and then again in Syria and Ukraine. It’s the same system, the same army, the same establishment.”

Memorial, where she has continued to work from exile, has long compiled lists of individuals implicated in war crimes across multiple conflicts.

“Now, we cannot arrest them because Russia protects them,” Morozova explained. “But the time will come when we can.”

Romantsova added that Ukrainians are willing to discuss peace, but not while surrendering their land.

“From Ukraine’s side, we fight and try to protect our population from a dangerous situation. We are open to discussing any ceasefire, but not if it means surrender, because Putin has publicly said he thinks Ukraine should not exist.”

Both women agree that without accountability, any peace would be temporary, amounting to little more than a ceasefire built on silence rather than truth.