Less than a month ago, Ukraine launched a surprise incursion into Russia’s Kursk region, overwhelming Russian border defenses and taking hundreds of soldiers captive. The move has boosted Ukrainian spirits during a year in which Russia has made steady gains on the battlefield. Vladimir Putin has not responded with any significant counterassaults—surely to the relief of Ukraine’s Western allies, who had worried that any Ukrainian attacks on Russian soil could be met with a devastating response. But Putin’s next moves remain uncertain, as does the effect this attack will have on the Russian public’s perceptions of the war, which is now in its third year.
Tatiana Stanovaya, a senior fellow at the Carnegie Russia Eurasia Center, founded, in 2018, R. Politik, a political-analysis firm, which is based in France. I recently reached out to Stanovaya, who is more comfortable corresponding in English via e-mail; we exchanged a few rounds of questions and answers. Our conversation, edited for length and clarity, is below. In it, we discuss whether Putin truly has any red lines, why the Ukrainian incursion may be less of a threat to Putin than it appears, and the odds for any sort of negotiated end to the war.
There have been many events—economic sanctions imposed on Russia by the West, initial Ukrainian successes on the battlefield—that have made people think Putin might need to change course. He hasn’t. Do you have any reason to think this latest incursion is different?
I believe that sanctions and broader “anti-Russian” policies, along with Western efforts to arm Ukraine and support its military actions—even if not universally agreed upon in the West—only reinforce Putin’s determination to destroy Ukraine in its current state. From his perspective, these actions validate his decision to start the war, and convince him that he must persist, exploiting what he perceives as growing internal divisions and contradictions in the West while waiting for Kyiv to fall. He has no intention of softening his approach and will not agree to talks under pressure. Putin is more convinced than ever that Ukraine is doomed and that the West is on the brink of tectonic political changes that will make his objectives easier to achieve.
However, the situation is different for the Russian élite. If, for any reason, Putin were to disappear tomorrow, many within the Russian élite might wish to withdraw from the conflict. The main obstacle is not so much the terms of a potential peace (although that is important) but, rather, the consequences Russia would face for war crimes and the hostilities inflicted on Ukraine and its people. Regardless of future domestic political shifts, the key question for the Russian élite is: What is the price of concessions? The fear that such concessions could be detrimental to the Russian state is currently so significant that it hampers any serious consideration of a peace process.
I want to emphasize that I am referring specifically to those members of the élite who are actively involved in the ideological and military aspects of the “war machine.” I have received considerable criticism for suggesting that no one in Moscow is actively seeking an exit strategy and that they are prepared to continue the war indefinitely.
To be more precise, those who genuinely want the war to stop and are willing to consider concessions are not in a position to express their opinions, let alone take action. Politically, they do not exist—at least for now.
The calculation behind this incursion by the Ukrainians seems to be that raising the stakes for Putin might actually force Moscow to the negotiating table, or allow negotiations to occur on better footing. Are you saying that’s not plausible?
Given the current reality, Putin’s stance on ending the conflict is far from flexible. In his logic, the Kremlin might become more “generous” with its demands only if and when Ukraine admits defeat—and, crucially, if the West either does not intervene or, better yet, encourages such an outcome. The more intense the hostility between Russia and Ukraine, the harder Putin’s position will become. Many believe that this is merely the image Putin wants to project, but unfortunately, he genuinely believes it. To Putin, Russia simply cannot be defeated (which is why he regularly reminds the world about its nuclear arsenal) so he will only enter negotiations from a position of strength—unless the regime changes.
Some may argue that Russia was much more vulnerable in the spring of 2022 and yet still engaged in talks, accepting significant concessions. For instance, Putin agreed to postpone discussions on the status of Crimea, annexed in 2014, for several years. He also recently admitted that he was then ready to withdraw from parts of Ukraine that connect to Crimea, if other conditions were met. At that time, Russian forces had to withdraw from the Kyiv and Chernihiv areas, and Putin appeared to be acting from a position of weakness.
However, if you look at the entirety of Russia’s demands at that time, including those that were not accepted by Ukraine (which Putin expected to secure later) the draft agreement still safeguarded most of Russia’s priorities. When we consider the full scope of those demands, they do not significantly differ from his current position, with one exception concerning the two regions—Kherson and Zaporizhzhia—that were annexed later in 2022, along with Donetsk and Luhansk.
At no point during the war has Putin abandoned his paramount aspiration: to change Ukraine politically, insuring that it becomes neutral and “friendly.” On other matters, he has been willing to negotiate. If Kyiv accepts a neutral status, a set of political demands (secured in a reformed constitution) and guaranteed unobstructed Russian access to Crimea, Putin might become more flexible on territorial issues.
To be clear, I am not suggesting that the West or Ukraine should entertain Putin’s political demands, which I believe are unrealistic. My aim is to outline Putin’s reasoning as it currently stands, to better understand his potential next steps.
The Times recently reported that Grigory A. Yavlinsky, “a longtime Russian politician who met with Mr. Putin last October to promote the idea of a cease-fire, said in an interview from Moscow that there had been hope in the Russian capital that ‘the fighting would stop this year.’ ” The circumstances of the recent incursion, he said, “have lowered all these chances, they have removed them from the agenda.” But you don’t agree that there had been hope in the Russian capital before this?
Let’s be clear—many people in Moscow, and across Russia, genuinely hope for the war to end. There is widespread speculation about “secret” talks between Russia and Ukraine, as well as between Russia and the U.S. There is a strong element of wishful thinking that something might change soon, perhaps within months, simply because neither Russia nor Ukraine has demonstrated the ability to decisively win the war. Russians live in a narrative where the West is the aggressor, Ukraine is merely the battlefield, and Ukrainians are seen as tools of anti-Russian forces. Who wouldn’t want the aggression against Russia to stop? If you ask Putin, he would claim to be against a war.
Several factors fuel these “peace” expectations. First, it is becoming increasingly controversial to approve large-scale military aid to Ukraine. Simultaneously, Russia is betting on a political shift to the right in European countries, and there is also hope that Trump will win the upcoming U.S. election, which would render the term “collective West” less relevant in the context of the war.
Second, Ukraine has been struggling to halt the current Russian offensive. While the offensive itself has not been impressive in terms of territorial gains, Moscow perceives Ukraine as militarily doomed, even considering the recent incursion into Kursk. The narrative that Russia holds the upper hand and that Kyiv will not be able to turn the situation in its favor is still gaining momentum.
Third, Putin has consistently spoken about Russia’s readiness to stop the war immediately—albeit under unrealistic conditions—but this is often overlooked. In the eyes of the Russian élite, with Ukraine losing, Russia advancing, and the West struggling, the situation seems ripe for negotiations. So, when the Kursk incursion occurs and Russian officials explicitly state that no peace talks are possible, it’s no surprise that this is seen as a lost opportunity and a further erosion of hope.
An important nuance to consider is the distinction between strategic peace talks aimed at resolving the conflict and a ceasefire. The latter, in my opinion, is possible as a tactical maneuver under certain circumstances, such as if Ukraine faces political destabilization, fails to secure the front lines, or becomes more internally divided. Putin may agree to a temporary ceasefire if it is not used by Ukraine to rearm and gain time for a counterattack. However, a ceasefire could be a step toward genuine peace talks or a prelude to new escalation. People in Moscow are less interested in a ceasefire, as it may be tactical, temporary, and lead to unpredictable outcomes.
Regarding genuine peace talks, there are no real options at the moment. Yes, there are various dialogues, and unofficial efforts by individuals connected to Putin who engage in private diplomacy and assist with routine issues like prisoner swaps or finding solutions for displaced children. There may be discussions about potential elements of peace agreements in various forms, but these are largely speculative and lack specific tasks or mandates from the Kremlin. Additionally, some hard-liners in Moscow view these efforts with caution and distrust. There are many rumors, many of them inaccurate, about secret channels between Russia and the U.S. To my knowledge, contacts exist only at the level of experts or expert-officials, with no official agenda or specific pro-peace goals—at least from the Russian side. Therefore, the Kursk incursion did not disrupt any ongoing negotiations but only made it harder for Putin to publicly promote his goals. Neither before the Kursk incursion nor after it was Putin prepared to engage in talks with Zelensky, whom he considers an illegitimate leader whose term expired in May. All of Putin’s attempts to present “peace proposals” have been directed at other Ukrainians, aiming to destabilize Ukraine domestically.
For a long time, the West has been worried about Ukraine mounting an attack inside Russia, concerned that this might be a “red line” for Putin. Zelensky recently remarked that this incursion showed that the West’s belief was “naïve.” What do you make of all this? It seems to me that Zelensky might be a bit overconfident.
I believe the narrative of “red lines” lost its relevance two years ago, when Ukraine began its counter-offensive. The Kharkiv counterattack, strikes on the Crimea bridge, drones hitting the Kremlin—these events have made it clear that Putin is not going to use nuclear weapons in situations that may seem grave but do not strategically reverse the situation in Ukraine’s favor or threaten Russia’s existence. It’s evident that Putin has been able to tolerate much more than we initially imagined.
However, from a Russian perspective, the question remains: So what? Ukraine does not possess the resources to inflict a decisive defeat on Russia itself, nor can it afford to fully reclaim the territories controlled by Russia (though the front line may fluctuate). Ukraine can cause localized damage, test Moscow’s patience, and disrupt some infrastructure, but Russia is learning to cope with these challenges. While such actions may be embarrassing, costly, and infuriating, they are still insufficient to change the course of the war.
The term “red lines” in relation to potential escalatory moves by Putin has become impractical and irrelevant, and the risk of nuclear escalation should be studied separately from the logic of retaliation. As for Zelensky, he is acting as a political leader whose country faces an existential threat of destruction and aggression. He must provide his people with hope, reassure them that Ukraine is capable of responding and inflicting damage on its aggressor, and demonstrate that it deserves continued support from its strategic partners. However, it’s also understandable that Ukrainian and Western tactical interests may at times conflict and cause tension. It goes without saying that, for the Russian leadership, Zelensky is politically irrelevant. From the Russian perspective, the war is being waged by the West—specifically Washington—with the goal of destroying Russia. In Putin’s eyes, Zelensky is merely a component of the hostile, anti-Russian infrastructure installed by the West.
The capture of Russian conscripts during this offensive has been written about as potentially problematic for Putin. Do you think this is the case?
This situation is unpleasant, but I wouldn’t call it problematic. On a national scale, it concerns only a very small segment of society. The usual conscription campaign, conducted twice a year, enrolls between a hundred and thirty thousand and a hundred and fifty thousand individuals, so this issue is unlikely to become widespread, let alone political. Even the much larger movement of wives and mothers of mobilized soldiers has not become a serious political factor. Another problem is that conscripts, who were promised by Putin that they would not be involved in warfare, end up in the war zone, risking their lives without receiving the same level of state and social support as those who voluntarily sign a contract. This has been a major source of anger within the pro-war community, among military correspondents, and ultra-patriots. However, this anger lacks political organization, leadership, and infrastructure, making it unlikely to become a significant issue for the regime.
There are many other problems: corrupt and incompetent generals, constant lies by officials, significant discord in decision-making between different bodies, levels, and armed structures, etc. There are also issues with the chaotic evacuation of locals and humanitarian concerns, which have led some pro-war activists to severely question the Kremlin’s narratives or criticize the “ideology” of the war. At first glance, these problems may seem serious enough to threaten the regime, but this perception is deceptive. Discontent and criticism from “angry patriots” have been a constant part of the war, and since the Kremlin suppressed Prigozhin’s mutiny and dealt with Prigozhin himself, this “patriotic” anger has been brought under tighter control. Today, nothing prevents the Kremlin from silencing its loyalists if necessary.
In terms of public sentiment, a recent F.O.M. poll showed a slight increase in the number of people reporting anxiety—rising from an average around thirty-seven-to-forty per cent to forty-five per cent—a level observed in March, and regularly throughout 2023. This is still much lower than the spike seen in the fall of 2022, which followed the announcement of a partial mobilization and pushed anxiety levels to seventy per cent. It’s important to monitor further dynamics, but my perception is that there won’t be a significant rise in anxiety levels to pose a danger to the Kremlin. It’s worth noting that more mobilization remains one of the biggest fears for Russians, but currently, the authorities are making every effort to avoid that. Even if they have to resort to it, the new system of enrollment will likely allow it to be conducted much more discreetly than in 2022.
How is the enrollment more discreet now?
A new system was implemented last year, which includes electronic summons that can be silently sent to men without the need for an official announcement.
Were you surprised that Russia agreed to the multi-country prisoner swap earlier this month?
The ongoing talks and the prisoner swap itself were not surprising to me; what did surprise me was the scale of the exchange. As I see it, Alexei Navalny’s tragic and horrific death in prison actually opened more opportunities for the humanitarian aspect of the swap, including the release of political opponents who genuinely faced the risk of meeting a similar fate. This has been a glimmer of hope for many with antiwar sentiments after a long period of hopelessness and dark, oppressive times, both for those still in Russia and for those who had to leave.
This swap also gave many people hope that Putin might be open to negotiation, to rational behavior, and reasonable compromise. It inspired those who believed that Moscow and Washington could engage in dialogue and potentially reach an agreement, possibly extending to the conflict between Russia and Ukraine. I remain much more skeptical. I don’t see the political conditions in which Russians and Americans could not only achieve something strategically significant but even establish the channels necessary for such dialogue, regarding Ukraine.
What is important to note here is that many overlook the fact that Putin has always badly wanted a “big deal” with Washington. While it seems unrealistic today, the fact that he is obsessed with the necessity and inevitability of such a “pragmatic deal” with the U.S.—maybe not soon, but eventually—is a fundamental belief that should be taken into consideration when analyzing his motives and actions.
Can you say more about why you think he is obsessed with this, and what exactly a “deal” means in his mind?
This is a fundamental belief that Putin holds about how the West should act, based on its strategic priorities and interests. It’s no secret that Putin does not fully understand how the West functions: in his view, the West has been obsessed for decades with ruining Russia, and it often acts in ways that contradict its own long-term strategic priorities. In Putin’s mind, these priorities should include sustainable, predictable, pragmatic, and mutually beneficial relations with Russia.
This perspective explains why he references Western societies and businesses, seeing them as natural allies of Russia and simultaneously as victims of their political establishment’s shortsighted, self-destructive policies. It also explains why he welcomes the rise of any anti-establishment political forces, whether left or right, as potential disruptors of the traditional “anti-Russian” political logic. Putin believes that sooner or later the West must reach a point where it recognizes the many years of destructive, one-sided, biased, unpredictable, and short-term foreign policies—not just toward Russia, but also in relation to issues like the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, Syria, Iraq, Iran, Europe, and what he perceives as irrational animosity toward China.
When the West reaches this point of self-reflection and revises its approaches, the conditions for strategic deals with Russia will emerge. In Putin’s eyes, this is simply the natural course of events, and current Western behavior is viewed as a political aberration that is harmful not only to Russia but also to the Western countries themselves. He sees it as a geopolitical disease that will eventually pass, paving the way for many “big deals” to come true.
The rest of the élite has a more pragmatic understanding of the West and does not fantasize about “big deals.” But at the same time, they are deeply disappointed with the West, and believe that it created the conditions that left Putin with no choice but to launch the war. And now it’s too late to repair anything, perhaps for generations. ♦
