Ever since things in Ukraine first went sideways for Russian President Vladimir Putin back in the spring of 2022, he and his officials have said that, not only were they fighting Nazis and responding to NATO aggression, but that the stakes of the conflict were so high that Russia may cease to exist should they fail.
That claim has always been puzzling, because it seems so absurd, and yet such a belief would help explain the extent to which the Kremlin is ramping up attacks on Ukraine, expanding its campaign of hybrid warfare in Europe and — by announcing massive budget transfers from nondefense to military spending — risking discontent at home.
Putin touched on the idea yet again earlier this month in his annual address to the Valdai Club conference of foreign policy and Russia analysts. Harping on a 2022 comment from then-US permanent representative to NATO Ambassador Julianne Smith that the US sought Russia’s “strategic defeat,” Putin said this put his nation’s “very right to exist” in question.
What Smith intended must be seen in the context of the ultimatums Putin sent to the US and NATO before the war, in the form of two draft treaty proposals. These described his subsequent war aims and went far beyond requiring Ukraine’s neutrality. They also demanded the removal of all alliance troops, weapons and bases from Central and Eastern Europe, and all US nuclear weapons from any foreign base, significantly reducing the credibility of the nuclear umbrella Washington could offer its allies.
So, strategic defeat meant putting an end to Putin’s project to reimpose control over Moscow’s so-called historical zone of interest by stopping his forces in Ukraine’s eastern Donbas region.
Allow him to take Ukraine and the only question would be: Where next? It is still a valid concern, but use of the term “strategic defeat” has proved a gift that never stops giving to Putin’s victimhood narrative. “This is the way it was all articulated,” he recalled in his Oct. 1 address. “No one forgot this. At least, we did not forget this.”
How would losing in Ukraine pose a threat to Russia’s existence? Even in the unlikely event that Kyiv should win the war by pushing Russia’s troops all the way back to their internationally recognized borders — a true and humiliating defeat for Putin — Russia would not disappear. It would just continue to exist in the form it had until 2013. If the front lines were frozen where they are today, Russia would have gained about 20 percent of Ukrainian territory.
Whatever they might say, Russia’s leaders know their opponents bear no resemblance to the invading armies of Nazi Germany (1941), Napoleonic France (1812) or the Polish Lithuanian forces that occupied the capital in 1610. Nobody is marching on Moscow.
Indeed, the US has effectively moved to the sidelines. Having halted American aid to Ukraine last year, US President Donald Trump is doing more to help Moscow than Kyiv, calling for Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy to unilaterally halt attacks on Russian oil refineries. When he refused, Trump lifted a ban on the purchase of diesel exports and called for Zelenskiy to resign.
Political expediency explains some of Moscow’s inflated rhetoric. Putin wants Russians to perceive a critical threat, because he is asking them to make new levels of sacrifice. He is boosting the country’s already large defense budget for next year by 27 percent, paid for in part by cutting further into education, healthcare and welfare spending, while printing money at the central bank. That would hit living standards.
He would also need to recruit more soldiers, whose average life expectancy at the line of contact the Ukrainian and US intelligence services now estimate at about 30 minutes. So, it helps for the cause to appear existential — as it could well be for Putin personally, and for the system he has built around him, should he be perceived to fail.
Hyping the threat also supports his efforts to persuade Europeans that by continuing to back Ukraine, their governments are inviting all-out war — perhaps even nuclear war — with Russia.
There is more at work here than cynical manipulation. There is also real paranoia among the crop of current and former KGB officers who run Russia, starting with Putin himself. Not only did their training and careers program them to assume threats all around, but they already saw one seemingly immortal great power (the former Soviet Union) collapse around them to the joy of the West. Why not the Russian Federation, too?
Putin and those of his ilk half believe it when they say they are re-enacting World War II, because they see the gains the Soviet Union made in Europe at the end of that conflict — and lost after 1991 — as what is at stake. They also genuinely think Ukraine is not a real country, but rather a Frankenstein state whose creation required ripping out Russia’s historic heartland. This history is wrong, but it is sincerely believed.
Just as for ex-KGB officials the distinction between war and peace is blurred, so too is the question of what Russia is and where it ends.
This is essential to understand. It affects what is and is not negotiable with the Kremlin, what the true purpose of any peace offer Putin makes might be and what is meant by the apparently ludicrous claim that Russia is being attacked in Ukraine. Western leaders should accept none of it, but they need to grasp the mentality to avoid unnecessary escalation or being gas lit into chasing settlements that cannot be had.
The Russia Putin talks about is quite simply bigger than the one on maps. It is also defined by keeping its place at the table of great powers, by an idea that it is a civilizational state that spills across borders and by a historical inheritance whose expanse that now, as always, had to be gained and held by force.
“Multiplying one’s heritage,” Putin told his Valdai audience, is the best way for nations to avoid becoming “a vintage collectible.”
To the president and his entourage, this would appear to be the worst of all fates — and it is certainly how they see the UK. Russian Minister of Foreign Affairs Sergei Lavrov oozed contempt when he described the UK as “diminished to the utmost degree” and no longer worthy of its permanent seat in the UN Security Council.
It is this potential future that Putin and others foresee with dread when they talk about their country ceasing to exist. The attempt to restore not necessarily the USSR or Russian Empire, but the idea of Russia as a great power supersedes all other Kremlin concerns, including for the economy, welfare or popular approval.
Putin would abandon his vision only if he becomes convinced it cannot be achieved, and that to continue in the attempt is more dangerous to him personally than to settle. This question would be decided by force, even if it ends in a negotiated ceasefire, because Russia’s now sovereign neighbors have their own ideas of history and heritage. They, too, want to exist.
Marc Champion is a Bloomberg Opinion columnist covering Europe, Russia and the Middle East. He was previously Istanbul bureau chief for the Wall Street Journal. This column reflects the personal views of the author and does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.
The FBI on Sunday arrested Wanying “Heather” Chang (張婉瑩) on suspicion of surveiling the family of the son of President William Lai (賴清德) on behalf of China, an example of “transnational repression” to suppress dissent in Taiwan and abroad. Zhang, a 34-year old realtor in California, was arrested on charges of working as an unregistered agent for China. She and an accomplice were accused of taking photos and videos of Lai’s son and his family, and sending information about their whereabouts and license plates to Chinese officials. “The information could be used by China to gain leverage over the Taiwanese president
On Oct. 10, 1911, gunfire in Wuchang (武昌) shattered the stillness of late-Qing China. What began as a regional uprising quickly ignited a chain reaction across the empire, toppling a dynastic order that had endured for more than two millennia and ushering in one of Asia’s first republics — the Republic of China (ROC). From that moment, the 10th day of the 10th month became a date of epochal significance, not merely in Chinese history, but in the broader arc of Asia’s encounter with modernity. Yet today, as Taiwan marks Double Ten National Day, the holiday’s meaning has undergone a transformation
A few days ago, we left our breakfast midway to catch a glimpse of the fighter jets in formation. It was a spectacular sight. We knew it was part of practice drills for Double Ten National Day celebrations and reminded us of the Annual Republic day celebration in India. While channel surfing, I came across a news debate about immigration laws, where an academic asked a fellow panelist: “Why should we be interested in your point of view when you don’t even belong here?” That got me thinking. Was our enthusiasm about the upcoming Double Ten celebrations unwarranted? Was this
National Tsing Hua University (NTHU) president John Kao (高為元) was invited for a job interview in Hawaii just three days after being confirmed in May for a second term at NTHU. Academic and industrial leaders requested his resignation. In the US, university presidents serve at the pleasure of the university’s board of trustees or board of regents. Unless an employment contract explicitly protects them, they can be terminated at any time without cause under at-will employment doctrines. If the board finds out a president is interviewing elsewhere, it can legally terminate their presidency simply by citing a “loss of confidence” in their