The initial enthusiasm for Russia seems to have cooled somewhat now – see Trump’s recent threats of “large-scale” sanctions on Russia if it doesn’t agree to a deal – and there’s a long way to go. But we need to be clear about what Putin is planning. It’s not peace.
By Mikhail ZYGAR
There is finally some progress in efforts to end the war in Ukraine. After weeks of excruciating accusations and retaliation, capped by that infamous scene in the Oval Office, the United States and Ukraine agreed last week to a 30-day ceasefire. Military aid and intelligence sharing, once suspended, have resumed. Since President Trump took office, the war saga has played out almost entirely between America and Ukraine, with Russia somewhere in the background.
All eyes are now on Moscow. People hoping for peace are likely to be disappointed. Despite Russian President Vladimir Putin signaling a willingness to make a deal, nothing could be further from the truth. I have spoken to Kremlin insiders who have known Putin for years, and they all agree: Putin loves war and can no longer imagine a future without it. Instead, his plan is to drive a wedge between Ukraine and the United States, take advantage of Trump’s apparent friendship to improve relations with America and keep the war machine going. Tuesday’s phone call between the two leaders will test that strategy. Whatever happens next, no one should be fooled. Putin has no desire to end the war.
The mood in Moscow is war-weary. That’s why Trump’s comments about forcing Ukraine to negotiate were seized upon by Russian officials with such enthusiasm: it offered them a way out of the war, complete with new American friendship.
But Putin sees things differently. According to people I spoke to, he has not given up on his original goal: to take Kiev and overthrow President Volodymyr Zelensky. The volatility of American support for Ukraine — coupled with small but steady advances on the battlefield and Russia’s overall advantage in resources — make this bizarre dream seem more plausible, if still distant. More importantly, though, war has become Putin’s ultimate tool for controlling the country and ensuring that no one steps out of line. It has been used brutally to drive dissenting voices out of the country, turning an entire generation of opponents into exile. The war serves as a perfect order for those in the system, too.
As long as it continues, even the so-called systemic liberals — the pro-Western faction within Russia’s government that holds key positions in the economy and business world — will remain silent. Many of them are clearly unhappy. But as the war drags on, they will not speak up.
On the other hand, the dangers of peace are clear. It would return to civilian life an army home with more than a million troops and a string of high-ranking veterans. What will they do?
A warning signal was sent last month when one of Russia’s most prominent war veterans and the president’s envoy to the Urals region, Artem Zhoga, dared to criticize a potential mineral deal with America put forward by Putin. “These resources are part of a strategic reserve, and I call on my colleagues in the regions to ensure their preservation in the interests of the state,” Zhoga said. Notably, he did not mention the president. For Putin, it was an ominous intervention. Excluded from key government posts — not a single war veteran has been placed in a senior leadership role, even after extensive reshuffles in the Defense Ministry — veterans are a potential source of discontent.
As the war continues, they cannot afford to step out of line. If peace were to come, they could follow in the footsteps of former Wagner Group leader Yevgeny Prigozhin in opposing Putin and his regime. Putin, of course, cannot allow that to happen.
To prevent a veterans’ revolt, he must not end the war. His political survival depends on it. And so does the economy, which has been completely reshaped to serve the war effort. The government has been restructured to follow a Stalinist principle: “Everything for the front, everything for victory.” The state apparatus now functions in the service of the military-industrial complex. The most influential figure in Russia’s economy is Sergey Chemezov, Putin’s old KGB colleague who now heads Rostec, the state-owned military conglomerate. This shows how intertwined political power, war, and the economy are. Some Russian business leaders argue that the war has brought benefits even to parts of the country that had long been in economic decline.
Once idle defense factories are now operating at full capacity, fulfilling government contracts and creating jobs.
Unlike the prewar years – when wealth was concentrated in Moscow, St. Petersburg and other major cities – state funds are now flowing into Russia’s economically depressed regions. The Kremlin’s bet on military Keynesianism, using oil revenues to redirect the economy to meet the needs of the war, has paid off big time. So the war is on. How does this compare with Putin’s apparent willingness to discuss an end to it? According to those I spoke to, Putin has pursued a two-pronged strategy from the start: engaging in separate discussions about US-Russia relations – mostly economic in nature – while keeping Ukraine a separate issue. The deal discussed over minerals disliked by Zhogha is a case in point. Appealing to Trump’s business acumen, Putin had floated the possibility of partnering with America on mining projects across Russia.
Ukraine did not show up. When war is on the agenda, Putin’s plan is simple: appear open to negotiations while provoking divisions in the opposing camp, hoping to force Ukraine to reject them first. In this, he has been remarkably successful.
His repeated claim that Zelensky is illegitimate was echoed by Trump, who called the Ukrainian president a “dictator.” The awkward Oval Office showdown was, among other things, a triumph for Putin’s tactics of provocation. Putin’s next trick is to invoke the March 2022 Istanbul talks, claiming that Russia and Ukraine were once close to a peace deal that was thwarted by Western obstruction. Whatever the truth of the claim, the terms discussed then—such as limiting the size of Ukraine’s military, changing its constitution to guarantee a neutral, nonaligned status, and handing over occupied territories—now seem, after three years of war, completely unacceptable. Any Ukrainian president who would accept such terms would face immediate political ruin. That is why Putin insists on them.
For a while, Ukraine was caught in the trap. Now, with the agreement in Saudi Arabia last week for a month-long ceasefire, it has taken the initiative.
The Kremlin’s initial reaction was cautious. “The idea itself is a good one, and we certainly support it,” Putin said on Thursday. “But,” he added, “there are questions that we need to discuss.” Recent days of discussions with U.S. officials focused on Russia’s conditions, including a halt to arms supplies to Ukraine, have made a ceasefire look increasingly unlikely. Even if it were to happen, it would not solve much. Lacking American security guarantees, Russia could easily provoke an incident, accuse Ukraine of violating the ceasefire, and immediately regain the abandoned positions, stronger than ever.
It is telling that after proposing a ceasefire, Putin appeared in military uniform for the first time in the entire war – an unmistakable sign of intent. It is no wonder that the Ukrainian leadership is skeptical of success. It is difficult to say how the Trump administration might respond to a rejected or broken ceasefire.
The initial enthusiasm for Russia seems to have cooled somewhat now – see Trump’s recent threats of “wide-scale” sanctions on Russia if it doesn’t agree to a deal – and there’s a long way to go. But we need to be clear about what Putin is planning. It’s not peace. (The New York Times)
