Listen to Russian officials these days, and you’re liable to hear a decidedly triumphant tone. Two-and-a-half years into the Kremlin’s war of aggression against neighboring Ukraine, its officials seem more and more convinced that their country’s eventual victory is inevitable. That could be because last year’s long-anticipated Ukrainian counteroffensive ended up largely fizzling, failing to evict Russia from the parts of eastern Ukraine it had managed to seize. Or maybe it’s because America’s upcoming election, and the political momentum of Republican candidate Donald Trump, could prompt a seismic shift in U.S. support for Ukraine’s struggle.
Whatever the cause, this sense of momentum has led the Kremlin to rebuff recent Ukrainian peace overtures, and to stake out a maximalist position as a prerequisite for any negotiations with Kyiv. But Moscow’s triumphalism masks a more sobering reality—by almost every empirical measure, Russia’s war of choice has proven ruinous for the Kremlin.
Most immediately, there are Moscow’s own battlefield breakthroughs—or lack thereof. Contrary to official rhetoric, Russia’s military isn’t advancing in Ukraine in any meaningful way. Since the start of this year, Ukrainian officials confirmed, Russia’s redoubled military efforts have netted it less than 1 percent of additional Ukrainian territory, and in total it still controls less than 18 percent of the country.
Even that negligible gain, though, has come at an exceedingly high cost. Between January and April of this year alone, the Ukraine war has claimed nearly 83,000 Russian casualties—and by the end of the year, it is estimated that Moscow might lose a quarter-million more. If it does, it will bring total losses suffered by Russia since February 2022 to a staggering 690,000 souls. By way of comparison, that grisly total is nearly 50 times the number of Soviet troops killed during the USSR’s disastrous decade-long occupation of Afghanistan between 1979 and 1989.
Russian President Vladimir Putin speaks at a meeting with officials of economic development at the Kremlin in Moscow, Russia, Wednesday, July 24, 2024.
Grigory Sysoev, Sputnik, Kremlin Pool Photo via AP Images
The implications can’t be overstated. Based on just the casualties Russia has suffered to date, British military officials estimated that “it will take Putin five years to reconstitute the Russian army to where it was in February 2022.” And if 2024 is as costly for Russia as some are predicting, it might take considerably longer. Put another way, Russia’s president has wagered his country’s prospects of military greatness, and for renewed great power status, almost entirely on his conquest of Ukraine.
Meanwhile, Russia’s war has made its overall strategic position significantly worse. Kremlin officials have claimed their war on Ukraine to be a natural consequence of years of NATO encroachment into Russia’s periphery. But Moscow’s aggression hasn’t deterred the Alliance. Far from it. Just a few years ago, confidence in the bloc was at a decidedly low ebb, and even on the continent on which it was founded NATO was seen by many as increasingly obsolete.
Not so now. The war in Ukraine has breathed new life into the bloc’s mission and activities. Since the conflict’s start, NATO has ramped up its operational tempo, improved Alliance interoperability, and expanded its area of military operations. It has also welcomed two new members into the fold, as Sweden and Finland abandoned their longstanding neutrality for the protection of collective defense. This has brought the Alliance substantially closer to Russia’s borders in physical terms—precisely the opposite of the outcome supposedly sought by Putin in launching the war in the first place.
Other changes are also afoot. In the post-Cold War era, it has become fashionable to think of Europe as a “post-military” power—a bloc that had lost both the capability and the will to defend itself, relying instead on diplomacy and economic engagement to remain relevant. Over the past two-and-a-half years, however, this trend has seen a significant reversal, as the imperative of defending Ukraine has jump-started European conversations about ramped up defense production and the need for a real defense-industrial base.
Russian officials and sympathizers may be taking solace in the possibility that a new Republican administration in Washington might soon make life more difficult for Kyiv—and conquest easier for the Kremlin. This could happen, although a second Trump term shouldn’t necessarily be seen as a death knell for America’s support for Ukraine, provided Kyiv recalibrates its message and manages to convince the new administration that it is capable of a decisive near-term battlefield victory.
Whatever the political outcome in Washington, though, the reality for Russia will remain the same. Putin’s military misadventure has cost the country dearly, both strategically and in human terms. Officials in Moscow will paint this outcome in more rosy fashion. But for the Russians themselves, the Ukraine conflict shouldn’t be counted as a victory, no matter how hard Kremlin propagandists attempt to spin it.
Ilan Berman is senior vice president of the American Foreign Policy Council in Washington, D.C.
The views expressed in this article are the writer’s own.
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