
Lawrence Freedman, the doyen of British war studies scholars, recently published a thoughtful piece on his ‘Comment is Freed’ substack taking issue with something I had previously written in the Sunday Times, encapsulated by my line ‘real strategy is to attempt to outlast the West’s interest in Ukraine’ such that ‘not losing is tantamount to a win in his book.’ (‘Why “Not losing” is not tantamount to winning,’ 23 November 2023) It is a lengthy and admirably comprehensive piece, so I thought it was worth a response, to highlight some of the difference in our perspectives – which are found across the commentariat – as well as the common ground.
End State vs Process
First of all, when Freedman and I disagree on Putin ‘winning by not losing,’ he is talking, I think, about an end state while I am talking about a process: one can be ‘winning’ for a long time before actually achieving a win – and, indeed, win and win and eventually lose. Just ask Napoleon or Hitler.
Of course, I agree that the current situation, a hard-fought battle to hold on to portions of south-eastern Ukraine, is not what Putin wants. His goal – and more on that later – is to have achieved some kind of victory, or at least something that he can spin as victory, which will allow him not to be spending a third of his federal budget on the military and which has some kind of legitimacy and stability. So my take is that at present, while Putin would be delighted with actual progress in the war (hence the meatgrinder offensive at Avdiivka, for example), he is at least satisfied with the status quo. High hopes for Kyiv’s counter-offensive have been dashed; ‘Ukraine fatigue’ is a real thing; there are renewed suggestions that the USA and some other European countries may be pressing Zelensky to open negotiations; and sanctions have not had the kind of quick and devastating impact on his economy that some of their boosters hoped.
That does not in any way preclude a shift to a more offensive strategy in the future. It is hard to see quite what that would mean, admittedly, given that the current smaller-scale operations seem to be consuming whatever capabilities Russia may have. Yet who knows what 2024 will offer, especially if Putin takes the politically-costly step of a further mobilisation. Maybe he will be encouraged to be more ambitious, maybe more conservative.
Plausible Victories
This is, after all, another key issue. Putin does not have one single, immutable goal or strategy. To be sure, his initial intent was to impose a compliant proxy regime on Kyiv, but he seems quickly to have realised that this looked impossible. I’m sure he’d still love to see such a regime, but it does not appear to be an active objective. Indeed, even in the ultimately-abortive Istanbul negotiations in March 2022, Moscow was looking for guarantees of Ukrainian neutrality and clear claim to the pre-February occupied territories, rather than anything more expansive.
In other words, Putin will take what he feels he can get, when he feels the time is right (or that he has no alternative). He has already demonstrated a degree of pragmatism, abandoning his initial drive on Kyiv and focusing instead on the south-east. Indeed, in other conflicts and crises he has shown a capacity to accept the best-achievable over the ideal. In the South Caucasus, given that he is busy in Ukraine, he accepted Turkey intruding into the region through its alliance with Azerbaijan, even though for years he had been trying to resist it. In the case of Ukraine, we should not under-estimate the scope he has to define the outcomes, at least to the Russian population. It is not just a question of his control over the domestic media apparatus, but also the way he has developed this new narrative, that this is not really a war with Ukraine as such, but with the whole West. In that context, even small wins can be presented as actually impressive David-versus-Goliath successes.
Why am I talking so much about spin? Because ultimately, ending a war is as much a political calculation as starting one. Neither side looks set to ‘lose’ this war in the sense of a cataclysmic defeat that leaves the other in control of its capital and territory. Instead, the end is likely to be the result of a painful cost-benefit assessment that balances the dangers faced and damage taken against the prospects for a better outcome. Realistically speaking, I feel that Moscow’s maximum-plausible ‘win’ would mean not just occupying the annexed regions and forcing Ukraine explicitly or implicitly to accept that, but also imposing neutrality on its neighbour. Indeed, this is the kind of deal various Kremlin-adjacent mouthpieces are still trying to sell. Conversely, Kyiv’s best hopes would presumably be the expulsion of all Russian troops from all occupied territory (including Crimea) and likewise some explicit or implicit acknowledgement of both defeat (which will mean reparations of some kind, although I don’t expect to see Putin in a war crimes tribunal) and also Ukraine’s true sovereignty, expressed and guaranteed by NATO membership or the like.
I can’t help suspecting that, although ultimately I think the shooting will someday stop and Ukraine become part of both NATO and the EU, neither side will get even these more constrained notions of a ‘full’ victory. In that context, much will depend on what both Ukraine and the Kremlin feel they can accept, and whether they think another six months, year or whatever of war is both bearable and likely to lead to a better outcome.
However much Putin cares about Ukraine – and his historically-skewed notions that it is really no more than a part of Russia’s historical and cultural patrimony appear genuine – I suspect he cares about survival more. We have already seen political concerns limit military decisions, from the delay in abandoning Kherson to the hesitance about further mobilisation. In characteristic style, Putin continues to try and hedge his bets, to have both guns and butter, something which cannot be sustained for ever. Indeed, the assumptions behind the 2024 budget, with its massive defence spend, are precisely that this will not be repeated in 2025.
Now vs Then
Hence the importance of what may otherwise be seen as semantic quibbling over ‘winning’ and ‘losing.’ Clearly Putin is at present not satisfied with what he has now, although in a year’s time, with Western ammunition production finally scaling up and another hundred thousand plus dead Russians and a budget under pressure, it might look more appealing. He may well be tempted into more offensive operations next year, although on present showing there seems little reason to expect any dramatic advances. To hope that Ukraine (which is suffering greater losses proportionate to its smaller population) may not be able to sustain the war long-term may seem like a reach, but perhaps seems more viable if you believe what the Kremlin apparently does about the scope for dissent within Kyiv and the wider population. Likewise, with populists winning elections in Europe and the orange arch-populist still making the running in the USA, the thought of a collapse or at least constriction of aid to Ukraine is not wholly implausible.
I certainly do not subscribe to the view that ‘a cease-fire could easily be achieved with a bit of imaginative Western diplomacy and some pressure on Kyiv to make the best of a bad job.’ At present, Putin has no reason to accept that, and for that matter nor do the Ukrainians. Again, though, what is off the table today might seem sensible in a year’s time. The ebb and flow of the battlefield, the supply of men and materiel, the international environment will all shape a constantly-evolving sense of both side’s objectives.
In the final analysis, Freedman’s and my views are closer than all this might suggest. He recognises that Putin ‘may be prepared for the war to go on for years to get to a win but there is no reasons to suppose that he relishes years of gruelling positional battles without a major breakthrough any more than Zelensky.’ Indeed, we agree that Putin is unlikely to regard any outcome short of ‘a submissive government in Kyiv’ to be ‘satisfactory and durable’. The question is whether he can ever get his head round it regardless, finding the alternatives even less ‘satisfactory.’ I think we have to presume that in extremis, he can – both because of past examples of his reluctant pragmatism, and also because otherwise we are essentially imagining no outcome bar a war that cannot end, at least not while Putin is in the Kremlin. And, of course, the limits of our imagination are often the limits of our policies.







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