From the Office of the Lucid Founder, Unified State
Kyiv, Ukraine — 29 August 2025 • 18:15 EEST (UTC+3)
Your Excellencies, Ambassadors and Diplomatic Representatives,
I write to you from Kyiv in a moment of profound crisis. On August 28, 2025, a massive Russian missile and drone strike shook this city—one of the deadliest attacks we have endured. I saw it with my own eyes; I felt the blast waves in my own body. In the hours after, as I read the official statements from world leaders condemning the attack, I was struck by an overwhelming sense of hypocrisy. The expressions of outrage and sympathy ring hollow without decisive action to end the bloodshed. The truth is plain: our international system suffers from a vacuum of real leadership. Too many are quick to condemn atrocities, yet too few are willing to prevent them. This war rages on not only because of the aggressor’s brutality, but because of the free world’s inaction and complacency in the face of that brutality.
For years, the European Union, NATO, the United States and others have spoken about defending a rules-based international order. Yet since the end of the Cold War—and especially since 2014—that order has been fracturing. When Russia invaded and annexed Crimea in 2014, it tore a gaping hole in the post-WWII global framework. Europe largely looked the other way, issuing words but mounting no unified response. It was a warning unheeded. What use is talk of a “rules-based order” if, when the rules are brazenly broken, no one truly stands up to enforce them? Western allies aspired to unity and strength, but when tested, they failed to prevent even that first breach. That breach has now widened into a chasm of chaos. The old architecture of global peace collapsed in slow motion after 2014, and leaders pretended not to see. I did see it — and I have spent every day since fighting to hold together whatever pieces I could.
I speak with the authority of first-hand experience. I have devoted my life to trying to hold those fragments of order together here in Ukraine. International Humanitarian Law (IHL) – one of the proud pillars of that old world order – became my battlefield. I realized early that if IHL collapsed, the door to unbridled barbarism would open. So I worked tirelessly, at great personal risk, to shore up respect for those laws in Ukraine when the cracks began to show. As war first ignited in the east in 2014, I warned anyone who would listen that it was just the beginning of a larger conflagration. I felt it coming years before it arrived, and I tried desperately to change our course. Many Ukrainians now say “we were not born for war.” In contrast, I know that I was born precisely to help end this war. From a young age I sensed what others could not, and I prepared myself for the day I would have to act.
As a Ukrainian who came of age during turbulent times, I dedicated my life to averting this nightmare. By age 12, I was studying global events and analyzing patterns, trying to decipher how history might unfold and how tragedy might be averted. During the 2004 Orange Revolution, while still just a schoolboy, I stepped into the crowds – not to fight against anyone, but to help defuse tensions and keep the peace. Even as a child, I wasn’t interested in vilifying enemies; I was focused on preventing violence and building bridges. That experience taught me the dynamics of our society and prepared me for what I knew would come: a far greater clash on Ukrainian soil. Almost every choice I made since — every skill I learned, every project I undertook — was guided by one goal: to be ready, when the time came, to stop the killing. I knew even then that a moment would arrive in my mid-thirties when my mission would be called for. I am now 34 years old, and that moment is here. Right now, with these words, I am aiming to disarm bombs with nothing more than hands and truth – to dismantle weapons with words.
In preparation for this mission, I sought knowledge far and wide. I even delved into the foundations of quantum physics and philosophy, not just out of curiosity but to forge a language for what I felt in my soul: that our reality can branch toward light or darkness based on the choices we make. I trained my mind to think beyond the linear, to imagine alternative futures when all paths seemed blocked. Call it foresight, call it deep analysis, or simply call it determination — it gave me an unshakable conviction that what many dismiss as “impossible” can indeed be made possible with enough collective will, courage, and love. This may sound abstract, but it had a practical effect: I never gave up believing that we could change the course of events, even when all the experts said we could not.
Choosing this path has come at great personal cost. By any conventional measure, I’ve lived an unusual and often difficult life. I was that “odd” young man — undeniably talented (as many told me), yet utterly uninterested in wealth or personal fame. While my peers pursued careers and comfort, I often struggled in poverty, pouring everything I had into projects aimed at helping others and safeguarding the future. People who knew of my abilities wondered why I did not use them to enrich myself. I’ve been ridiculed and dismissed as naïve, idealistic, even crazy, for believing one individual could alter the course of global events. I have endured decades of hardship and loneliness, labeled a dreamer while others were content to watch the world burn as long as their own house remained intact. But I do not regret my choices — not for one moment. To chase selfish success in a time of global crisis would be to become complicit in humanity’s downfall. I wear society’s mockery as a badge of honor. Indeed, I think of Plato’s allegory of the cave: those who live in darkness often ridicule the one who tries to lead them into the light. I have been that figure in the cave, returning again and again to free others even as they laugh at me or turn on me. It is painful beyond words to be rejected by the very people you are trying to save. Yet I persevere, because if even a single child can be spared, a single community saved from destruction, every sacrifice and every insult I’ve endured will have been worth it.
Allow me to share one personal journey that illustrates the systemic failures we face — a journey that spans hope, betrayal, and resolve. In my youth, driven by the ideals of humanitarianism, I sought to volunteer with the Ukrainian Red Cross Society (URCS). I believed that through the Red Cross I could best uphold the IHL principles I cherished. Initially, I was met with scorn; the gatekeepers of that institution literally laughed at the earnest teenager who wanted to help. Only after war truly exploded in 2014 did URCS accept my eagerness. I became a volunteer and soon was elected head of the Kyiv Regional Disaster Response Team. I threw myself into that role with all my heart. My team and I worked day and night to deliver aid to civilians, train others in first aid, and uphold the sacred neutrality and mercy that the Red Cross emblem is supposed to represent.
What I discovered, however, was utterly disheartening. My small band of volunteers — scrappy, young, and fueled by genuine compassion — was often the only group in our region doing real, on-the-ground humanitarian work. We had almost no budget, yet we accomplished more than entire departments of the URCS who had millions in donor funding at their disposal. Many among the URCS leadership and staff seemed to treat their positions as sinecures or social clubs. Our youth team’s very success was seen as a nuisance, an embarrassment, a threat. We were called outsiders, troublemakers – because our dedication exposed how much more the official system could be doing, if not for corruption and complacency.
Undeterred, in 2015 I have build a new volunteer movement in Kyiv from the ground up. We adopted modern tools – a cloud-based coordination system, a decentralized network empowering local initiative. It was a 21st-century, self-governing humanitarian network, rooted in the fundamental principles of the Red Cross but free from its bureaucracy. The results were remarkable: in a matter of months, we grew from nothing to a vibrant force of more than a hundred of volunteers. We proved that even amid war, even with scant resources, integrity and passion could achieve what bloated institutions would not. Our motto was simple: “Be the change.” We aimed not only to optimize aid delivery, but to embody the true spirit of humanitarianism – to show that neutrality means protecting victims, not sitting idle; that humanity means putting people before politics.
Tragically, the entrenched powers did not celebrate our success – they feared it. The URCS hierarchy, steeped in decades of patronage and corruption, saw our transformative movement not as salvation for their struggling mission, but as a threat to their authority and illicit privileges. They moved swiftly to crush us. On an absurd bureaucratic pretext – I refused to sign a falsified inventory document for supplies that never existed – they expelled me and disbanded our entire volunteer network. In truth, we were banished because we had started to outshine and outgrow the old corrupt system. My plan had been to reform URCS peacefully from within by making the old ways irrelevant. I succeeded – and that success is what the old guard could not tolerate.
What I learned in URCS was even more alarming: the depth of corruption and rot in the humanitarian system itself. Quietly, courageously, a number of veteran URCS staff (many of them older women who had given their lives to service) came to me with evidence and testimonies. They revealed that nearly all the humanitarian aid flowing into URCS warehouses was being pilfered or misused. Goods donated to help the vulnerable were routinely sold for profit. The “Patronage Service” of URCS – intended to aid the most needy – had been twisted into a scheme where the needy were charged money for the very aid that should have been free. Unwitting volunteers and employees were instructed to tell war widows, orphans, and displaced seniors that Red Cross aid only covered 50% of their needs, and that they must pay the other 50%. These victims, grateful for any help, believed they were being treated generously – when in fact they were being exploited. Disabled and homeless people forced to buy food parcels and wheelchairs that had been donated for their relief. I will never forget encountering an internally displaced old man – penniless, with nowhere to go – who had been made to pay half the cost of a “donated” wheelchair. On his knees, thanking Red Cross officials for a discount, not realizing those officials had just taken the last of his money and called it charity. It was a grotesque perversion of everything the Red Cross emblem stands for. When some of the honest staff within URCS realized the enormity of what they’d been complicit in, they were heartbroken. They begged me to expose it, even if it meant tearing down the organization they once loved. “Destroy this whole rotten system,” one nurse told me, “for the harm it has done.”
I chose a different path: not destruction, but reform and accountability. I believed (and still do) that the ideals of the Red Cross – neutrality, humanity, impartial aid – are worth saving, even if those currently in charge have betrayed them. So, when my internal efforts were silenced, I turned to the international level. I gathered evidence of the corruption and reached out through official channels to the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) and the International Federation of Red Cross (IFRC). I trusted these global bodies to uphold their mandate if they knew the truth. For a brief moment, I had hope: individuals within ICRC’s mission in Ukraine had seen my leadership and even praised me as a rising star of humanitarianism. They put me through advanced trainings; it seemed they recognized my genuine commitment. I truly believed the ICRC/IFRC would step in once they understood how the URCS – their affiliate – was betraying IHL and the people of Ukraine.
I was wrong. When the moment of truth came, the international Red Cross institutions betrayed me and the cause of justice. Instead of investigating wrongdoing, ICRC officials quietly warned URCS leadership that I was making trouble. Rather than back the whistleblower, they backed those I had identified as responsible. In private conversations, some ICRC and IFRC staff went even further: they asked whether I had the means to force a change of leadership inside URCS and indicated they would “remain silent and continue cooperation with whoever prevailed.” That posture — to wait out a power struggle and side with the winner — is the antithesis of the Movement’s own neutrality principle, which forbids taking sides in hostilities or engaging in political controversies; neutrality and independence are not optional brand values but the Movement’s legal-moral spine. Their lawyers advised on how to neutralize my claims and keep evidence buried (They failed. For example, see “Global Corruption Barometer” 2016, page 23, “Ensuring that help goes to those in need: A case from
Ukraine”: transparency.org/en/publications/people-and-corruption-europe-and-central-asia-2016). “Neutrality” became a shield for cowardice and self-interest, as if money and image outweighed principle. ICRC — the guardian of IHL — was, in practice, abetting its erosion in Ukraine. They had a chance to defend the integrity of the humanitarian mission here; they chose to save face of thieves instead.
The same dynamic reappeared at the national level in February 2025. When I appealed to the international community for help in securing a peaceful, lawful transition of power in Ukraine, some partners again floated extra-legal scenarios — urging me to take power by force, as if Ukrainian lives were expendable chips in a bigger geopolitical game. For clarity: Under Ukraine’s wartime legal framework (which I personally consider broken), national elections are suspended until martial law is lifted; that must remain an emergency exception, not a governing model—hence the need for a time-bound, constitutional roadmap back to elections with international guarantees.
Therefore, I, once again, call on the international community to uphold one standard only: help secure conditions for a peaceful, constitutional, time-bound return to democratic elections—and hold the current Ukrainian leadership, which you have politically backed through this grinding war, to let go of power now when the law and the people require it. Do not outsource that duty to “men with force,” and do not look to me or any other citizen to seize authority in the fog of war. Instead, insist on a credible roadmap tied to security conditions and the lifting/expiry cycles of martial law—rather than winking at extra-legal fixes that could plunge the entire continent into catastrophe. Recent parliamentary extensions of martial law (most recently pushing it into autumn 2025) show why a lawful, internationally supported pathway back to elections must be planned now, not improvised later.
Back in 2015, after ICRC/IFRC betrayal I did not stay silent. I escalated my warnings: if the Red Cross and international community continued to ignore this corruption, they would doom Ukraine and the world to a disaster. Because think about it: if no one was truly upholding IHL on the ground – if the very institutions meant to enforce the “rules of war” were hollow – then what was to stop the war from spiraling into unrestrained savagery? I argued to anyone who would listen that no embarrassment or scandal from exposing corruption could possibly be worse than what would happen if a full-scale war broke out without any moral checks in place. I pleaded that if we didn’t fix this, we risked not just a regional war, but a nuclear confrontation and a total collapse of any global order. My words fell on deaf ears. The officials at ICRC, IFRC and Ukrainian Goverment likely told themselves I was exaggerating.
The Ukrainian government, too, was content to let the Red Cross farce continue as long as it diverted blame from them. International diplomats in Kyiv privately acknowledged my reports, but publicly, nothing was done. A few representatives from allied nations even contacted me (through back-channels like USAID) and hinted that they knew I was right and would support my cause. That support never materialized in any real way. In hindsight, I realize some foreign actors found Ukraine’s corruption useful — a pawn in their own games. Why fix an ailing system when you can exploit it? My crusade threatened that cynical equilibrium, and thus I found myself not only unsupported but actively undermined by powerful interests.
And so the war came, and all the nightmares I strove to prevent came to pass. Everything I warned about — the unchecked escalation, the atrocities, the peril of a broader conflagration — all of it happened while those in power wrung their hands and absolved themselves of responsibility. Which brings me back to the present, to that sickening feeling of hypocrisy I mentioned at the start. If the world truly wants to survive this era, it must finally confront its own failures and take responsibility. We cannot keep pointing fingers and writing lofty statements while doing nothing to change course.
This war in Ukraine, and the war in Gaza alongside it, did not materialize from thin air. They were spawned by a multitude of failures and misdeeds across many nations and institutions. Make no mistake: Russia’s aggression in Ukraine is heinous and must be condemned unequivocally. The same goes for Hamas’s terror attacks, or any party’s deliberate targeting of civilians. But no amount of Russian villainy, or anyone’s villainy, absolves the rest of the world for creating the conditions in which such horrors thrive. There is plenty of blame to go around. From Moscow to Washington, from Brussels to Beijing, from Jerusalem to Tehran — leaders built up a tinderbox of unresolved grievances, proxy conflicts, broken promises, and double standards. And yes, institutions like the United Nations, the Red Cross, the EU, NATO — those who styled themselves as the arbiters of peace and law — they too failed mightily when tested. They issued reports and resolutions, but in critical moments they lacked courage, unity, and foresight. The entire global community, East and West, has so far utterly failed the moral test of our time. There are no pure “good guys” in a war that has killed and traumatized innocent millions. This war is a civilizational failure — a product of leaders who thought they could play with fire and not get burned, who chased power and profits while neglecting the basic duty of safeguarding the future for their children.
And what a failure it is. Europe — yes, Europe especially — now finds itself in a de facto war, even as it refuses to admit it outright. By that I mean Europe is reaping the whirlwind of its earlier neglect. Rather than face Russia directly or address the root issues years ago, Europe now relies on Ukraine as a human shield. Let us call things by their true names: nearly one million Ukrainians (an entire generation of our sons and daughters) have been mobilized to defend not just Ukraine’s sovereignty, but effectively Europe’s security architecture. These Ukrainians are bleeding and dying on the frontlines, holding back a threat that would happily consume more territory if given the chance. They fight with courage and honor — but they fight alone. Where are the European armies standing beside them? Where are the NATO boots on the ground to truly “defend democracy”? They are nowhere, because European leaders have decided, quietly, that Ukrainian lives are the acceptable price for containing Russia. It is a cold, hard truth: Europe is being defended by Ukrainian blood.
This reality should haunt the conscience of every policymaker in Brussels and every capital of the free world. If Western leaders truly believed their own rhetoric — that this is a battle for the future of the civilized world — would they not put their own citizens on the line? Would they not send their own sons and daughters into the fray? But they do not. Instead, they send weapons and money, pat themselves on the back for supporting Ukraine, and then comfortably watch from a distance as Ukrainians do the dying. I am grateful for the material support, yes — Ukraine could not survive without it. But let’s not pretend this is a noble, sustainable strategy. It is morally untenable and strategically myopic. It reduces Ukrainian soldiers to pawns in a larger game, rather than treating them as equals whose lives are as precious as any French or German or American life. And it breeds a dangerous resentment: Ukrainians are beginning to ask (and rightly so), “Are we just expendable protectors of someone else’s peace?”
Even as Europe relies on Ukrainian sacrifice, many European leaders continue their political charades. They give grandiloquent speeches about freedom and justice, yet fail to acknowledge uncomfortable truths about this war and about Ukraine itself. For years, Western governments funneled money into Ukraine while turning a blind eye to the corruption that siphoned off that aid and hollowed out our institutions. Now those same governments act shocked that Ukraine struggles with governance even as it fights for its life. It was never useful for European politicians to speak too loudly about Ukrainian corruption or governance failures — it complicated the narrative. So they ignored it, and in doing so, they helped perpetuate the very weaknesses that made Ukraine more vulnerable. Why do I mention this now? Because honesty matters. If we cannot be honest about the problems, we will never solve them. Europe and the West must own up to the fact that simply throwing weapons and money at a conflict without a plan to end it is not leadership — it’s avoidance. It’s buying time with other people’s lives.
The pattern of avoidance and hypocrisy is not unique to Ukraine. Look at Gaza. Look at the catastrophe unfolding in the Middle East. Once again, we hear strong words — condemnations of terrorism, declarations of Israel’s right to defend itself, or on the flip side, condemnations of occupation and calls for Palestinian liberation. Plenty of words, on all sides. But where is the action to stop the slaughter of children in Gaza City or the rockets falling on Israeli towns? Where is that same moral clarity when it comes to protecting civilians, no matter who they are or where they live? It’s missing. Instead, great powers either tacitly encourage the fighting or wring their hands and wait, hoping it will burn itself out. The pattern repeats: leaders manage the conflict, calibrate it, contain it — but do not resolve it. And so the fires rage on, whether in Donetsk or in Gaza, threatening to engulf us all.
It is hard to articulate the frustration and despair I feel watching these crises unfold in parallel. Europe’s leaders lambaste Moscow for war crimes — as they should — but it sometimes borders on farce. After 11 years of war (since 2014) and 42 months of full-scale invasion, do you think anyone here in Kyiv is surprised by Russian missiles killing civilians? We are not. We have been living this reality, over and over. What we want to know is: When will it stop? And who will help stop it? The time for merely condemning Russia or any other aggressor is long past. We need solutions, not just blame. We need courage, not just outrage. We need leadership that puts saving lives above scoring political points.
Let me say this to every adult sitting in a position of power, to every official formulating policy or shaping opinion: Only the children are truly innocent. In every war, in every land, it is the children who bear no blame and yet often pay the ultimate price. Ukrainian children, Russian children, Palestinian children, Israeli children, Yemeni children, Sudanese children… their lives are equally precious, and their deaths equally a rebuke to all of us adults who failed to protect them. No nation, no society on Earth can claim moral superiority as long as any child is dying violently under our watch. We love to indict each other for atrocities, but who among us will accept our share of responsibility for the innocent lives lost? If a single child anywhere dies in terror from a missile or a shell, that is a failure of all humanity, not just the side that pulled the trigger. This is the naked truth we have to face: we have failed our children. All of us.
Somewhere, right now, a mother in Kyiv is weeping over a crib that holds nothing but memories because her baby was killed by a Russian missile. At the same time, a mother in Gaza clutches the body of her child who died from hunger. They do not care about geopolitics. They do not care whose narrative is louder at the UN. They are living every parent’s worst nightmare, and nothing will ever make them whole again. No trial in The Hague, no apology, no revenge will bring back the lives that have been lost. That is why ending the killing must be our absolute priority. As long as children are bleeding and dying, any talk of justice or victory by us adults is a cruel joke. No one wins a war where babies die in their sleep. No one.
So what do we do? First, we must all look in the mirror. Each leader, each diplomat, each one of us with the power to influence events must ask: “Have I done everything in my power to ensure children are sleeping safely tonight?” If the answer is no (and right now it is no almost everywhere), then we have no right to point fingers before we right that wrong. The only morally defensible stance for any adult today is to say, “I am responsible for these dying children, and I will do whatever it takes to save the ones who can still be saved.” That is the measure of our humanity at this moment in history.
We must also dispel the toxic myth that war can ever be waged in a just or clean way. War, by its nature, is the abandonment of morality. We sanitize it with terms like “collateral damage,” but we all know what that means: the death of innocents that we choose to accept for some supposed greater cause. If a military operation knowingly kills even one innocent, then that death was intentional in the moral sense, because it was foreseen and allowed. In Ukraine, in Gaza, in every conflict, we hear combatants insist they’re doing everything possible to avoid civilian casualties — yet civilians keep dying by the thousands. The uncomfortable reality is that those deaths are not accidents; they are viewed as an acceptable cost. Well, I reject that utterly. No political or military goal can justify the slaughter of a child. Not one. Never. To accept that trade-off is to lose our very soul.
Ukrainians and Russians are killing each other daily — artillery, drones, bullets taking husbands from wives, daughters from mothers. Both sides believe they fight for a just cause (survival on one hand, historical destiny on the other), but in the trenches the justification means nothing to the young man who watches his friend bleed out. Israelis and Palestinians are locked in a death spiral — bombs leveling entire city blocks in Gaza, rockets indiscriminately shot toward Israeli towns. Each side has narratives of righteousness and grievance stretching back generations, but none of that will comfort a child traumatized by the thunder of explosions and the sight of charred bodies. War has no true justice to offer anyone. It is a cycle of vengeance, where even the “victor” emerges haunted and diminished. The only just outcome for these crises is peace. Peace is the only state in which children’s lives are not used as tools or bargaining chips, but are cherished and safeguarded as an end in itself.
Therefore, peace is the only moral demand that matters now. Not slogans of victory, not conditions of surrender, not carving up lands or punishing enemies — just peace. A complete ceasefire. Silence the guns, all of them, as soon as humanly possible. Every day that the fighting continues is a day we adults have chosen war over innocence. This must end. If any leader or faction still thinks they can fight their way to a better bargaining position, I challenge them: go to the front lines yourself. Put down your pen, pick up a helmet, and trade places with the soldiers and civilians in harm’s way. See how long your resolve lasts when it’s your own life, or your child’s life, at stake. I guarantee that anyone still beating the drums of war will swiftly realize that war has no value, no matter the cause, when you are the one paying the price.
I say to the Western leaders who insist on “standing firm” against Russia: Do not stand firm in war to the last Ukrainian — stand firm for peace. Use the immense power and influence of your alliances not just to send weapons, but to send a clear ultimatum to both Moscow and Kyiv that the time has come to stop the bloodshed and start serious negotiations. Yes, it is risky. Yes, it means confronting hard truths and perhaps sitting at the table with those you rightfully despise. But consider the alternative: a war that drags on for years, escalates into a direct NATO-Russia clash, and then – a nuclear exchange. That risk is far, far worse. The same message goes to all other actors: the United States, China, regional powers, and those in the Middle East. Stop fueling the conflicts with rhetoric or proxy support, and start doing your duty as fellow human beings. Force a halt to the violence. Demand it from your allies and adversaries alike. Use every tool you have to make continuing the war less palatable than ending it. Thus far, the international community has not truly tried this approach. It’s been easier to let the wars grind on, to avoid tough compromises, to keep hoping the other side collapses. That approach is moral cowardice and strategic folly. It will only lead to more death, and draw the whole world into catastrophe.
Let us also speak plainly about accountability. Peace does not mean impunity or forgetting what happened. But we have to prioritize. First, save lives; then seek justice. There must come a reckoning for war crimes and aggression — I do not argue against that. But if we continue to prioritize punishment over prevention, there will be no one left to punish because we’ll all be engulfed in a wider war. Europe, in particular, must reflect on its own accountability. European governments should ask why they tolerated the erosion of democracy and transparency in countries like Ukraine for so long, sending money and praise while rule of law deteriorated. And they should resolve to never make that mistake again. Support for any nation must go hand-in-hand with expectations of integrity and reform. In Ukraine’s case, we who survive this war will have a responsibility to rebuild our country on a foundation of honesty and good governance. I, Michael Tulsky, have fought corruption tooth and nail because I know that a corrupt Ukraine can never be truly free or safe. I appeal to Ukrainian government to treat this war not only as a fight against an external enemy, but as a chance to cleanse Ukraine internally, to emerge better, more united, less captive to the oligarchs and opportunists who thrived in the shadows. And I appeal to Western allies: help Ukraine do this. Do not undermine those trying to reform Ukraine. Do not view Ukrainian corruption as an inconvenient topic — it is part of why this war happened and part of what must be fixed for peace to last.
Everything I have described — the moral urgency, the shared blame, the imperative of peace — leads to this point: we must end these wars now. Not someday, not eventually, but now. The status quo is untenable; it will end either by our action or by further calamity. One way or another, the coming months will decide whether we pull back from the brink or tumble over it. I know there is fear among diplomats and leaders: fear of making concessions, fear of looking weak, fear of the domestic political cost of compromise. But I tell you, the things we should fear far more are the mass graves of a widening war, a Europe in total war, a Middle East in flames, a world where nuclear weapons become tools of battle. Compared to those fates, the courageous pursuit of peace is the least risky path.
To that end, I am not merely making a plea; I am offering a plan. I have formulated two comprehensive peace blueprints, which I humbly present to the world:
- Unified State Advisory Memorandum No. 7: Roadmap to Ceasefire and Lasting Peace in Ukraine – a detailed plan to immediately silence the guns and address all core disputes between Ukraine and Russia through a phased, just settlement.
- Unified State Advisory Memorandum No. 11: Roadmap to Ceasefire and Lasting Peace in Gaza and the Region – a comprehensive framework to halt the Israel–Palestine conflict, relieve the humanitarian catastrophe, and create a path for a sustainable peace with the buy-in of regional and global powers.
These documents are blueprints for peace – carefully researched, thoroughly vetted, and, most importantly, actionable. They were not drafted by dreamer ignorant of reality, but by person who have lived the horror and understand the grievances on all sides. I combined scientific conflict-resolution models (such as game theory and lessons from past peace processes) with deep empathy for the human beings involved. I consulted voices from all stakeholder groups – Ukrainians and Russians, Israelis and Palestinians, and many others – to ensure these plans aren’t one-sided or naive. They are built on realism, but a type of realism that prioritizes life and human dignity above the “great game” of geopolitics.
What do these plans entail? In Ukraine, Memorandum No. 7 lays out steps for an immediate ceasefire and a frozen frontline, followed swiftly by good-faith negotiations under neutral auspices. It addresses the thorny issues head-on: security guarantees for Ukraine so it never again faces invasion; a neutral status to allay Russian fears of NATO expansion (without compromising Ukraine’s sovereignty or right to choose its destiny); a phased withdrawal of forces; and a sustainable approach to disputed territories. The plan ensures that justice and accountability for war crimes are pursued, but in a way that does not derail the peace – through phased, reciprocal measures and truth/reconciliation initiatives. Crucially, it calls for a massive reconstruction and development program (a new Marshall Plan, if you will) to rebuild Ukraine, with strict transparency, so that peace delivers tangible benefits to ordinary people quickly. The end-state envisioned is one where Ukraine is secure, truly independent (not a buffer pawn of any bloc), and prosperous – and where Russia, having received assurances about its security interests, can also step back without feeling existentially threatened. It’s not victory for one side, but a win-win for humanity.
In Gaza and the Israel–Palestine arena, Memorandum No. 11 likewise starts with an immediate, mutual ceasefire and the rapid implementation of a humanitarian lifeline: opening crossings, getting food, water, and medicine to those in desperate need, and securing the release of hostages and prisoners on all sides. It then outlines a sequence of steps to address core issues: security arrangements to protect all civilians, a halt to hostilities by all armed groups, and the beginning of a political dialogue. I know the two-state solution, as traditionally conceived, has become a tired mantra producing no results. Unified State plan proposes a new paradigm: one that might involve interim joint governance or UN trusteeship for Gaza as it recovers, robust international guarantees for both Israelis’ and Palestinians’ security, and a path toward eventual statehood and self-determination that doesn’t require one side to vanquish the other. It incorporates the regional dimension too: engaging Egypt, Jordan, the Gulf states, Iran, Turkey, the US, EU, Russia, China – all the players who have influence – to form a multipolar guarantor group. The idea is to lock everyone into supporting the peace, because everyone has a stake in it. A multilateral reconstruction fund is outlined as well, to rebuild Gaza and support the Palestinian economy, paired with safeguards so aid cannot be diverted to violence. Similarly to Ukraine’s plan, it emphasizes justice through mechanisms like international inquiries into alleged war crimes, but frames them in a way that complements peace instead of hindering it. At heart, the Gaza peace roadmap is about breaking the cycle of revenge and opening a future where Israelis and Palestinians can live with security and dignity – a Holy Land at peace, not soaked in holy blood.
I share these details not to overwhelm, but to make one thing clear: there is a plan. There is an alternative to endless war. The ideas exist. The paths have been charted. These documents (Advisory Memorandum No. 7 and No. 11) are ready and available for every government, every diplomat, every concerned citizen to read and act upon. They dispense with the failed talking points of the past and present a fresh vision for what peace could actually look like – a peace that is principled, but pragmatic; visionary, yet achievable.
In essence, I offer a Unified State solution – “unified” because it rejects partitioning the world into incompatible camps, and instead finds common ground. It is a solution of unity and peace. In Ukraine, this means uniting the legitimate interests of Ukrainians (to be free and safe) and Russians (to feel secure and respected) in a framework that prevents war. In Israel-Palestine, it means recognizing the indivisibility of their futures: neither will truly have peace or security until both do. My blueprints treat peace not as a mere ceasefire or a pause to rearm, but as a living process that must be built, maintained, and enforced by the international community’s collective will.
Now, I turn to you, the diplomatic representatives reading this letter. You are the bridge between ideas and action. You have the ears of presidents and prime ministers, foreign ministers and parliaments. You have the platforms and privileges to raise issues and demand attention. I ask — no, I implore you — use your influence now. The two peace memoranda I described should be on the desk of every head of state and foreign minister involved in these conflicts. Study them, critique them, improve them if you can — but most of all, act on them. Rally your colleagues around them. Let these plans be the starting point for urgent peace summits. The worst that can happen is that those who are skeptical will voice their concerns and we adjust the details. But we cannot adjust or negotiate anything while bombs are falling and children are dying. The first step is to stop the killing.
So support a call for an immediate ceasefire in Ukraine. Some will say “but Russia will regroup” or “Ukraine will lose momentum.” I say: enough. The time has come to freeze this conflict before it burns further out of control. If we can save lives today and tomorrow, we must. And we can. A ceasefire is not capitulation; it is an opportunity — to breathe, to tend to the wounded, to bring in the UN and other monitors, to start good-faith talks. Likewise, demand a ceasefire in Gaza. Too often we treat that conflict as intractable or separate — it is not. It is deeply connected to global stability, and the moral authority of the international community hinges on our response to it as well. Every principle we apply to Ukraine (sovereignty, the value of human life, the condemnation of targeting civilians) applies there too, and the suffering in Gaza is on a scale that should haunt the conscience of the world. Use your voice in multilateral forums to insist that all parties lay down arms in both theaters.
Some of you represent countries that have clout over Kyiv, or Moscow, or Jerusalem, or Ramallah, or Gaza City. Use it. Don’t wait for someone else to take the lead. Convene meetings, shuttle between capitals, offer creative incentives or face-saving measures. This is classic diplomacy — this is your craft. And there is no more noble use of that craft than saving lives and forging peace.
Understand that time is not on our side. I cannot emphasize this enough. In Ukraine, every day of stalemate carries the risk of sudden escalation: an intentional offensive that causes a disaster, or an accident (a stray missile, a misinterpreted move) that pulls NATO or other powers directly into combat. Humanity have been blessed so far to avoid that nightmare, but this blessing will run out. In the Middle East, every day of war in Gaza increases the chance of a regional explosion — bringing in Lebanon, Iran, or other actors — and also fuels extremism worldwide, perhaps even terrorist retaliation on other continents. Planet is on borrowed time. To hesitate, to delay, to continually say “let’s see how the battlefield unfolds” is to play dice with millions of lives. Diplomacy must move faster than the missiles, for once.
I know that many diplomats feel their role is often to explain why something can’t be done. You manage expectations; you reflect realities. But I challenge you to invert that mindset. Instead of enumerating the obstacles to peace, start removing them. If a certain demand is unacceptable to one side, find an alternative or a creative ambiguity. If pride is the problem, create a context where both sides can save face. The peace plans Unified State offer already do much of this heavy lifting. Take them, build on them, use them as a diplomatic toolkit.
And to those who might cynically think, “Why should we heed a self-proclaimed ‘Lucid Founder’ or these unsolicited plans?” — I say: heed them not because of who wrote them, but because of what’s at stake. Heed them because the status quo is suicide in slow motion for us all. Heed them because if you have a better plan, by all means put it on the table — but I have seen none. What I see instead are plenty of war plans, offensive counter-offensives, arms packages, and sanctions schedules. What I do not see is a coherent peace plan from any of the great powers. That void is what Unified State seek to fill. I could not wait for others to do it, so I did it myself. If there is arrogance in that, so be it — but I believe it is actually humility, the humility of a person who decided to take responsibility when leaders would not.
Excellencies, the coming weeks will test the very notion of diplomacy and international order. We will either rediscover our collective capacity to solve the worst problems through dialogue and compromise, or we will tumble into a new era of chaos beyond anyone’s control. I ask you, all of you: be the generation of diplomats that stopped a world war, not the one that lamented it after the fact. Be the ambassadors of peace that your titles inherently suggest you are.
For my part, I offer you everything I have: these plans, my personal testimony, my passion, and yes, my moral authority as someone who has lived every facet of conflict — from the street protests to the battlefields to the shelters filled with kids. I have risked my life in revolutions, in war zones, and much more. I have done so not for earthly power or reward (I have none), but because I cannot do otherwise and still live with myself. I hope that carries weight with you. I hope it convinces you that this is not just another letter, but perhaps the most important letter you will read in your career, because it implores you to use your power to save humanity from a terrible fate.
If you take away only one thing from all my words, let it be this: peace is possible. I know it in my bones. It is possible in Ukraine. It is possible in Gaza. It is possible anywhere. The darkest hour, as the saying goes, is just before the dawn. I believe we are in that dark hour now. Dawn can be coming — a new era where we step back from annihilation and begin healing our world. But that dawn will not simply arrive. We must usher it in. Through courage. Through action.
I have given you a roadmap. Now I am calling on you to walk it. Not alone — together. Ukrainians, Russians, Europeans, Americans, Arabs, Israelis, Palestinians, Africans, Asians… together. For once, together. We owe it to the children who are still alive and praying for peace every night in Kharkiv, in Kherson, in Gaza, in Sderot — and the children in all countries — they deserve a future without war.
There is no more time to waste, and not a life to spare. Peace can be achieved in a matter of weeks, if the world simply decides that enough is enough. The plans are there. The support among ordinary people is there — I assure you, the common citizens of all nations are far more ready for peace than their leaders. All that’s needed is political will.
Please, find that will within yourselves and within your governments. Prove that diplomacy is stronger than despair. Help me turn these blueprints into reality on the ground. Help me transform this looming tragedy into a triumph for the human spirit.
Human civilization stands at a crossroads. Down one path lies endless grief and ruin; down the other lies a chance for redemption and a lasting peace. For the sake of every innocent life — for the sake of our collective future — choose peace. Choose it now.
Yours faithfully,
Lucid Founder – Michael Tulsky
on behalf of the Unified State
Kyiv | 29 August 2025
Leave a Reply