The West is surprised to see Ukraine regain the initiative. But it was predictable that Putin would reach the end of the suicidal process for Russia that he set in motion with his “special military operation.” He no longer has any “good solutions” to break the deadlock and may fear a palace coup. While it is impossible to know when he will fall, the question is how to effectively deter him from resorting to nuclear weapons.
The situation is seriously deteriorating for Vladimir Putin. The war of attrition he sought to impose on Ukraine after the failure of his attempt to take Kyiv in a matter of days—in order to overthrow the legitimate government of Volodymyr Zelenskyy—is backfiring. The Kremlin is not the only one taken by surprise. In Western countries, few had realized, from the very start of the “Special Military Operation,” that Ukraine was lost to Russia simply because of its decision to invade, and that the consequences would be devastating for the aggressor nation. Except for a few experts and journalists familiar with Ukraine, its culture, and its history, no one thought so.
A Flawed Framework for Analysis
From the outset, the conflict was primarily examined in terms of the military power dynamics inherited from the Cold War, against the backdrop of the memory of the two world wars—and in particular, the Battle of Verdun. Using this analytical framework, it seemed logical to give Russia the advantage. As early as the spring of 2022, geopolitical analysts, military officials, and diplomats were explaining that Ukraine should give up Crimea and the Donbas. This framework shaped the West’s response, leading to cautious and limited support. The primary goal was to prevent Ukraine from collapsing, without risking crossing the ’red lines’ set by Moscow—or simply imagined by leaders and observers who did not realize to what extent they had been targeted by Russian influence operations for years. This failed to take into account the courage and determination of the Ukrainians, who had decided to resist. Those who, like the contributors to Desk Russie, tried to explain that Ukraine would not give in, would not give up, and possessed solid moral and tactical resources were largely ignored.
It also meant misunderstanding the political, societal, and military reality in Russia, and clinging to old clichés—carefully perpetuated by Moscow—about “Russians capable” of suffering without revolting, about the Russian army that first bends and then wins, as in the days of Napoleon and Hitler, and so on. Many observers and diplomats focused solely on the overall figures for the Russian economy, particularly GDP growth driven by the boom in the war industry, without distinguishing between civilian and military sectors, and without analyzing Russia’s dependencies and structural weaknesses. This amounted to adopting Putin’s view of his own country and allowing ourselves to be blinded by his propaganda.
Such a stance, widely shared, led people to believe, just as the Kremlin leader believed—and still believes, or pretends to believe—and as his domestic and foreign cheerleaders repeated, that a Russian victory was inevitable. Thus, this hypothesis—which had yet to be tested by reality and the passage of time—was taken as a quasi-scientific truth. Whereas one should have examined, week after week, what was happening in Russia within the spheres of power, the economy, and the justice system—to gradually identify the implications and transformations, and to discern what this revealed about the state of Putin’s regime—people were content to declare that the Kremlin was an unfathomable black box. This justified a certain laziness in analysis, prevented an understanding of what was actually taking place, and deprived Western public opinion of the information needed to grasp the stakes and developments of the conflict.
People often preferred to invent a new genre of discourse and ‘journalism’: commentary on the imaginable future—which was also used and abused in connection with the U.S.-Israeli war in Iran. Thus, it was announced countless times that Kyiv’s troops were on the verge of collapse and that Ukrainian society could take no more. There was discussion ad nauseam about the highly improbable outcome of negotiations whose framework had not been carefully defined—and in which the American negotiators stood out for their incompetence—and there was even speculation about Zelenskyy’s possible resignation under pressure from Donald Trump, when the most important thing for Ukraine was to find ways to buy time and thwart Putin’s attempt to exploit the erratic 47th president of the United States’ flip-flops to his advantage. Yet the Ukrainian retreat was brought under control, and military leaders have continuously drawn lessons from the front lines, sought new responses to Russian attacks, and devised innovative ways of waging war.
Ukraine Defends NATO
The armed forces of NATO countries and their defense industries took a long time to realize that the art of war had been profoundly transformed by what the Ukrainians were doing. They are only just beginning to draw operational lessons from this. Shouldn’t the Atlantic Alliance, for example, set up a ‘drone wall’ along the border between the Baltic states and Russia or Belarus? What monitoring is being conducted of organizations—mafia-like or otherwise—capable of sparking Russian-speaking ’rebellions’ along the lines of those seen in Transnistria as early as 1990 and in the Donbas in 2014?
Since the start of the conflict, Europeans have realized just how wrong they were to have carelessly squandered the ‘peace dividends’ since the end of the Cold War, deluding themselves about NATO’s strength and power. The intensity of the war on their doorstep has shown that the NATO shield is quite worn down. It is urgent to restore it or to build a serious European defense system, without relying too heavily on the United States, but this will take time and a level of commitment that is not yet fully in place. This state of affairs leaves us in a position of serious weakness. So much so that one might wonder whether it is not Ukraine that is now defending NATO countries rather than NATO supporting Ukraine. Both, of course, but we must admit that the role of the Ukrainians is now essential. If they hadn’t held their ground, we would be in a terribly difficult situation, facing the threat from Putin.
The Future of the War Is Being Decided on the Aggressor’s Home Turf
In Kyiv, of course, we’ve been paying very close attention to what’s happening in Russia, because we quickly realized that the future of the war would be decided on the aggressor’s home turf, precisely because of the nature of the Russian political regime. This is what the West—and above all the Americans—refused to see, having for a very long time prevented Ukraine from taking action within Russia. Kyiv forced the issue, and that was the primary objective of the attack on the Kursk region, launched two years ago exactly. The Ukrainians have demonstrated that strikes on Russian oil infrastructure have a threefold effect: they complicate Russia’s military operations, make civilians—including those in Moscow and St. Petersburg—feel the burden of the war, and undermine the internal balance of power within Putin’s regime.
Until then, the Western approach had been to try to limit the damage caused by Russian aggression in order to secure negotiations on terms as favorable as possible for Ukraine. However, as long as the consequences of the war were not felt in Russia, the Kremlin had nothing to lose by continuing its “Special Operation”—except for troops. But in a society that emerged from Sovietism, human life is worth very little—and perhaps even less so since the advent of unbridled capitalism, which flourished on the ruins of the USSR. All Putin had to do was symbolically link the casualties to the glorious sacrifices of the Great Patriotic War (World War II) to flatter national pride, and offer cold, hard cash as compensation. This ‘economy of death’ has worked well… Gas shortages and recurring internet outages—resulting, directly or indirectly, from Ukrainian strikes on Russian territory—are far more difficult for society to bear, as they profoundly affect the economy.
Russia can no longer afford to sustain its war effort
As the “special military operation” has now lasted for more than four years—already outlasting the 1914–1918 war as well as the Great Patriotic War (1941–1945)— – it has become clear that Russia, despite the ‘financial reserves’ it had set aside for this purpose, lacks the means to sustain its war effort much longer. Its economy, though boosted by the military-industrial complex, remains too small—its GDP is lower than Italy’s. Its territory is far too vast to be defended against long-range drones. Its vulnerability is therefore at its peak. Yet it has no allies willing to support it in a manner comparable to what the West is doing for Ukraine. We can now see the illusory nature of the argument that Moscow could count on the support or indifference of the Global South, while Western democracies were supposedly ‘isolated.’ The partnership with Beijing—described by Xi and Putin as “unshakable” and “unprecedented”—is limited by China’s global ambitions, as it vitally needs to preserve its economic ties with Europeans and Americans.
In Moscow, the impasse is so obvious that Putin has spoken out to show he is aware of the difficulties and to try to reassure his fellow citizens. Without a doubt, this message is not meant to fool anyone. The regime is so accustomed to concealment that the mere fact that Putin is speaking out about what is going wrong speaks volumes about the gravity of the moment. But public opinion is not a real problem for the Russian president. He knows there will be no popular revolution. Those who might lead such a movement are all under close surveillance, if they are not already in prison (the number of political prisoners is estimated at between 1,400 and 2,180, depending on the source). On the other hand, he has every reason to fear the oligarchs and the siloviki—two groups that are deeply intertwined and, moreover, intrinsically linked to organized crime: they will want to protect their interests.
For now, the Russian president has no solution to revive the economy. The budget deficit is skyrocketing—by mid-year, it was twice the annual forecast—and the government no longer has the means to cover it, especially as oil prices have plummeted again since Washington put the war in Iran on hold. At the same time, inflation is picking up steam as fuel prices rise. While Guerman Gref, the head of Sberbank, is calling for an emergency cut in interest rates, saying that “the economy simply cannot survive for long” at current rates, the Central Bank president, for her part, is concerned about the deterioration of public finances and a possible spiral of prices that could get out of control. She has suggested that it would be very difficult to meet the demand for easing credit costs.
Similarly, the issue of the shrinking army ranks—since casualties (now 1,000 men per day) exceed the rate of recruitment—remains unsolvable. In this context, the idea of a general mobilization—which some are entertaining—could be the straw that breaks the camel’s back in terms of public discontent, especially since no one really believes anymore that the Russian army is on the verge of victory. Without the prospect of victory, sacrifice for the motherland no longer makes sense, whereas all it would take is to end the war to stop the bloodshed and bring Russia back to ‘normal .’ Neither the state’s nor the regions’ finances allow for an increase in the already very high enlistment bonuses offered to new recruits: it is now common knowledge in Russia that their life expectancy does not exceed a few weeks after arriving at the training camp. It is also known that the ‘windfall’ from new recruits fuels appalling extortion: many commanders blackmail their men by offering, in exchange for payment, to spare them from being sent on ‘meat grinders’—assaults from which up to 80% of soldiers do not survive.
The Real Risk of a Palace Coup
The president’s inner circle appears to be solid and loyal, but the generational factor must be taken into account. Putin came to power accompanied by a group of men his own age who know they do not have a long future ahead of them. Barring any surprises, these men do not want change—which they would have every reason to fear—and they will not attempt anything against him; he knows them perfectly well and has them under his thumb, just as they have him. But for those who are ten or twenty years younger, the situation is different. And some hold powerful positions.
This is, for example, the case with Igor Sechin, head of Rosneft and former Deputy Prime Minister from 2008 to 2012. Born in 1960, he has placed his own people in positions of control and investigation within both the FSB and the GRU. This close associate of Putin is undoubtedly one of the most powerful and feared men in Russia, but his interests are seriously threatened by the current situation. Even younger is Alexei Dyumin, born in 1972. A lieutenant general and presidential advisor, he has served as the president’s security chief, head of the army’s special forces, and deputy head of the GRU. He therefore knows a great deal about the Russian president and his security… It was he who convinced Yevgeny Prigozhin to halt his march on Moscow in June 2023. He has no reason to want to go down with Putin. The same goes for Dmitry Patrushev, born in 1976, Deputy Prime Minister for Agriculture, but also a banker and former member of Gazprom’s board of directors. He benefits from the network of his father, Nikolai Patrushev: this longtime ally of his friend ‘Vladimir Vladimirovich’ served as head of the Security Council and may be one of those overseeing the ghost fleet from the top, now that he is ‘chairman of the Maritime College.’
These are just three examples, but they speak volumes. If this generation were to rid itself of the man who, increasingly, seems to be turning the “Special Military Operation” into his war—a personal vendetta—it could present itself as the generation of a Russian ‘reset,’ both with regard to Ukraine and the West. It would not be difficult for Russia to argue that it is in Moscow’s interest to return to peaceful relations, and it could, without a second thought, pin the blame for the war on the older generation.
The question, then, for Putin is how to prevent a palace coup. It is perhaps in this light that two recent arrests should be interpreted. First, the arrest of Mikhail Poluboyarinov, 60, a former CEO of Aeroflot and an executive at Rostec (a Russian state-owned company specializing in high technology), who is accused of corruption in a case dating back to 2016. The fate of this wealthy apparatchik could be a way of signaling to younger people that they’d be better off keeping a low profile. Next is the arrest of Ilya Traber, well known in Russian mafia circles by the nickname ‘the Antique Dealer,’ who is accused of murder. His arrest is all the more striking given that Traber had been untouchable until now. In the 1990s, the former submariner played an essential—even indispensable—role in the ‘forceful,’ not to say ‘bloody,’ takeover with the help of the ‘Tambov mafia’—of which he is reputed to be one of the leaders—of the Port of St. Petersburg by associates of Putin, at a time when Putin was overseeing the city’s financial and commercial relations, a mission entrusted to him by then-Mayor Anatoly Sobchak. It would have been impossible to arrest Traber without the Russian president’s approval. Consequently, everyone at the highest levels must know that Putin’s protection can be withdrawn and that a reason for arrest will always be found. No one is protected forever, even if they have rendered the most distinguished services to the ‘boss.’
At the start of the war, when victory seemed inevitable from the Kremlin’s perspective, the arrests of business leaders served primarily to free up positions and perks for the purpose of rewarding allies. Until last year, under the auspices of Russia’s Prosecutor General, these arrests were part of a vast reallocation of privileges designed to tighten the grip of a select group of siloviki on the country’s economy and wealth. They now reflect the leader’s growing anxiety. This attempt to tighten control over his inner circle, amid a climate of growing paranoia, does nothing to address the fact that the course of the war is increasingly slipping from Putin’s grasp, as Ukraine becomes more effective in its strikes on Russian territory and strangles not only Crimea but also the Russian army’s logistics in the Donbas.
It is also known that the security services are at loggerheads, particularly since the assassination attempt on General Vladimir Alekseev, the GRU’s second-in-command, in which one of the arrested perpetrators turned out to be a man linked… to the FSB. Similarly, a factional war appears to be underway within the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MID), where Mikhail Bogdanov, the president’s special representative for the Middle East, was dismissed last year, even though he was overseeing, among other things, private military companies there (it was in Syria that the Wagner Group cut its teeth). However, the MID’s Arabists—linked to the KGB/FSB—who now feel marginalized following the ouster and subsequent indictment of their leader, were traditionally, and until recently, a powerful force. One need only recall the career of the most famous among them, Yevgeny Primakov, who was a potential successor to Boris Yeltsin. Primakov was politely asked to step aside in 2000 so as not to complicate Putin’s first presidential election. Which he did.
Time for deterrence
Mistrust is therefore growing, and in such a climate, anything becomes possible. Putin knows this, and he is no longer in a position to stop the momentum he set in motion on February 24, 2022. The question is not whether he will fall, but when and how. Admittedly, it is impossible to know the answer, but it will not disappear from the Kremlin leader’s horizon. On the contrary, it will obsess him more and more. Putin has no way out. The best proof of his weakening is that Alexander Lukashenko, the Belarusian president, has just yielded to pressure from Zelenskyy and shut down the signal repeaters that facilitate the guidance of Russian missiles and drones striking Ukrainian territory. Even Russia’s grip on its Belarusian ‘satellite’ is weakening.
That leaves the possibility of a desperate gamble: the use of nuclear weapons. The wounded beast could tip over into irrationality and attempt a reckless move, some in the West say, and 24-hour news channels are relishing the story, unconsciously playing into Moscow’s hands. But carrying out such a decision is not as simple as pressing a red button. The reality of the chains of command and the execution of such a decision is far more complicated. In any case, the debate is back on the agenda. And of course, Moscow is making sure it is, through its favorite propagandists.
Waving this threat around will not stop the momentum driving Russia toward the moment when it has to admit its failure. The rhetoric of the bomb will not save Crimea, which Moscow is incapable of defending. In reality, the very use of a nuclear weapon would immediately seal the fate of the war to Moscow’s detriment; it would face global condemnation, not to mention the retaliation that would inevitably befall the Russian military and/or territory. Therefore, the important question is not the one being debated on television talk shows—whether or not Putin will dare to do so—but rather how to make the Kremlin understand that it cannot under any circumstances resort to ‘the bomb.’ Now, more than ever, is the time for deterrence. What message are Paris, London, Washington, and Beijing sending him? Are France, Great Britain, the United States, and China—four of the five permanent members of the UN Security Council, all of which possess nuclear weapons—speaking with one voice to defuse the nuclear threat? Putin must hear from them that he has absolutely no chance of using them. As if by chance, Lukashenko, who talks to everyone, traveled to Beijing in late June…
Jean-François Bouthors is a journalist and essayist, contributing to the magazine Esprit and serving as an editorialist for Ouest-France. He is the author of several books, including Comment Poutine change le monde published by Editions Nouvelles François Bourin in 2016.