By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
What Does
Putin Want?
Since Russia launched
its full-scale war on Ukraine in February 2022, debates have raged in the West
about appropriately responding to Moscow’s aggression. But those debates are
limited by a lack of agreement about the goals of that aggression and,
ultimately, what kind of threat Russia represents. Arguably, understanding the
Russian threat is a first-order priority: unless Western governments get that
right, they risk either overreacting or underreacting.
Officials and
scholars who have proffered their views of Russian goals tend to see them
starkly. Many have made the case that Russian President Vladimir Putin is
a maximalist whose ambitions go far beyond Ukraine. Others portray Putin as
obsessed with Ukraine—or, more specifically, obsessed with erasing it from the
map. Such assessments of Putin’s intentions, however, are often unmoored from
any consideration of his capabilities. If one accepts that a threat must be
assessed based on an adversary’s intentions and capabilities, then the limits
of what Putin can do establish which of his ambitions are relevant for
understanding the threat posed by Russia—and which merely reflect the powers of
his imagination.
Over the past 20
months, the world has learned much about what Putin can and cannot do. When one
considers that evidence, a different view of Putin and the threat he represents
emerges: a dangerous aggressor but ultimately a tactician who has had to adjust
to the constraints under which he is forced to operate.
What Does Putin Want?
Some prominent
Russian analysts have claimed that Putin’s invasion of Ukraine is merely the
first step in a much larger attempt at domination that will extend beyond
Ukraine. Putin, in this view, is a maximalist. Putin’s claims go beyond Ukraine
into Europe and Eurasia. The Baltic states might be on his colonial agenda, as
well as Poland.” In this view, Russia’s progressively more significant use of
military force in its foreign policy since the Russian-Georgian war 2008 is
part of a continual process that has yet to peak. Accordingly, Putin will not
stop until he has restored some version of the Russian Empire or a sphere of
influence beyond Ukraine.
If Russia were to
prevail in this bloody conflict, Putin’s appetite for expansion would not stop
at the Ukrainian border. The Baltic states, Finland, Poland, and many other
countries once part of Russia’s empire could be at risk of attack or
subversion.
If Putin does harbor
such imperialist ambitions in Eastern Europe, his intentions would resemble
those of Hitler and Stalin. Some leaders, particularly in parts of formerly
communist eastern Europe that fell under Nazi occupation
during World War II and Soviet occupation and control
after it, have not shied away from making the analogy explicit. For example, in
June 2022, Polish President Andrzej Duda criticized German and French attempts
at diplomacy with Russia by rhetorically asking: “Did anyone speak like this
with Adolf Hitler during World War II? Did anyone say that Adolf Hitler must
save face? That we should proceed so that it is not humiliating for Adolf
Hitler? I have not heard such voices.”
Analysts and
policymakers have portrayed Putin as a génocidaire—a
man bent on destroying the Ukrainian state and its people and culture. As the
historian David Marples put it: “The Russian leadership seeks to depopulate
and destroy the entity that since 1991 has existed as the independent Ukrainian
state.” The writer Anne Applebaum concurs: “This was never just a war for territory, after all,
but rather a campaign fought with genocidal intent.” Ukrainian President
Volodymyr Zelensky has described “an obvious policy of genocide pursued by
Russia,” a charge backed by the odious practices of Russian forces: the mass
killings of civilians, the torture and rape of detainees, the deliberate
bombing of residential neighborhoods, and the abduction and deportation of Ukrainian
children to Russia. In his September 2022 address to the UN General Assembly,
U.S. President Joe Biden stated, "This war is about extinguishing Ukraine’s
right to exist as a state, plain and simple, and Ukraine’s right to exist as a
people.” The legislatures of Canada, the Czech Republic, Estonia, Ireland,
Latvia, Lithuania, and Poland have joined that of Ukraine in formally declaring
Russia’s aggression in Ukraine a genocide.
The trouble with
seeing Putin as a maximalist or a génocidaire is that it ignores his
inability to be either of those things—unless he resorts to using weapons of
mass destruction. When Russia’s conventional military was at the peak of its
power at the start of the war, it could not take control of any significant
Ukrainian city. Since the retreat from Kyiv and the northeast, Russian forces
have demonstrated little capacity to conduct successful offensive operations.
Their last attempt—a winter awful south of the Donetsk region—ended in a
bloodbath for the Russian side. At this rate, Putin will never succeed at
taking control of Ukraine by force, let alone wipe out its inhabitants, even if
Western support for Kyiv wanes. If he cannot take Ukraine, it seems
far-fetched that he could go beyond it. These Russian weaknesses are widely
invoked but are usually ignored in assessments focusing on Putin’s intentions.
Moreover, Moscow’s
soft-power instruments have been revealed to be equally ineffective as its
hard-power ones. Despite many fears to the contrary, German dependence on
Russian natural gas has not allowed Moscow to stop Berlin from leading efforts
to counter aggression in Ukraine. In addition, the shallowness of Russia’s
capital markets and the general weakness of its industrial sector have driven
former Soviet countries toward the West and China in search of trade
opportunities and investments—despite elaborate attempts by Moscow to foster
economic integration in the region. In addition, Putin’s Russia, unlike its
Soviet predecessor, has no power of attraction to co-opt foreign elites into
larger political projects. The Kremlin under Putin has neither a robust,
transnational ideology nor a developmental model that could attract elites
outside its borders. Whatever soft power Russia wielded to attract elites
through more banal means—say, bribery on a grand scale—has been primarily
squandered by now, thanks to the brutality of its war.
The Ukraine
war has revealed that Putin does not have the resources—short of using
nuclear weapons—to fulfill maximalist or genocidal objectives. The
Russian military has improved its performance during the war; its destructive
power should not be dismissed. And Putin’s intentions do matter. But his forces
cannot defeat the Ukrainian military, let alone occupy the country. Perhaps he
might dream of wiping Ukraine off the map or marching onward from Ukraine to
the rest of the continent. But his dreams matter little if he cannot realize
them.
Paved With Bad Intentions
A smaller but vocal
group of analysts takes a markedly different view of Putin’s intentions,
claiming that he is a fundamentally defensive actor who seeks (like all leaders
of major powers, this group alleges) to prevent threats to his homeland from
materializing. Rather than trying to conquer Ukraine, let alone Europe, Putin
has been waging a reactive war to keep the West out of his backyard. The
political scientist John Mearsheimer, the most prominent exponent of this view,
has argued that “there is no evidence in the public record
that Putin was contemplating, much less intending to put an end to Ukraine as
an independent state and make it part of greater Russia when he sent his troops
into Ukraine.” He has also written that “there is no evidence Russia was preparing
a puppet government for Ukraine, cultivating pro-Russian leaders in Kyiv, or
pursuing any political measures that would make it possible to occupy the
entire country and eventually integrate it into Russia.” In other words, Russia
has been playing defense, and Putin is merely pushing back against Western
encroachment. He seeks nothing more than security for his
country.
But this portrayal of
Putin clashes with the reality of Russia’s actions. It now seems evident that
Putin’s motives went far beyond defense. It is difficult to see the Russian
attempt to take Kyiv in the first weeks of the war as anything other than a
regime-change operation. British, Ukrainian, and U.S. intelligence agencies
have all judged that the Kremlin attempted to prepare various Ukrainian
figureheads to lead a Russian puppet regime in Kyiv and steer the country back
into Moscow’s orbit. (One such figurehead, Oleg Tsaryov, even directly
confirmed his presence in Ukraine on the day the full-scale invasion began,
declaring on the Telegram social media platform that “Kyiv will be free from
fascists.”)
Still, to accurately
assess the Russian threat, the clear evidence of Putin’s initially
expansive intentions must be coupled with the equally clear evidence of
Russia’s limited capabilities, which have been on vivid display since February
2022 and appear to have forced Putin to adjust his aims. Putin may well have
been seeking to conquer Ukraine in the initial stage of the war, but following
the failure of that plan, he (at least temporarily) downsized his goals. He
withdrew his forces from around the capital and other cities in the northeast
of Ukraine in early April 2022; they have never returned. As Avril Haines, the
U.S. director of national intelligence has testified to Congress: “Putin is likely better understanding the limits of
what his military is capable of achieving and appears to be focused on more
limited military objectives for now.” The best way to understand Putin is not
as an offensive maximalist, a génocidaire,
or a wholly defensive actor but rather as a tactician who adjusts his ambitions
to accord with the constraints under which he operates. Analysis of the Russia
threat should focus less on what he might aspire to and more on what he
plausibly can get with the power he has.
Dealing With A Tactical Adversary
An understanding of
Putin as a tactician could be more reassuring. His ambitions may well expand
just as they have contracted—and if Russia’s power can enable that expansion,
then threat assessments should change. Moreover, despite his limited
capabilities, Putin can still inflict significant damage on Ukraine and its
people. Russia has pounded Ukrainian ports and industrial and energy facilities
and has mined many agricultural fields. Its naval blockade has obstructed
exports of grain, steel, and other commodities on which the Ukrainian economy
(and many other countries) critically depends. In 2022, the Ukrainian economy
shrank by a third, and it is hard to imagine how a substantial recovery could
occur before Moscow stopped bombing significant cities and infrastructure and
lifted the blockade. Further, Ukraine is by far the most powerful of Russia’s
non-NATO neighbors. In other words, even with his current capabilities and a
tactician’s mindset, Putin could pose an insurmountable threat to Georgia,
Kazakhstan, Moldova, and other former Soviet republics. U.S. allies
in NATO might be safe, but that’s cold comfort to people in those
countries.
For governments,
rightsizing the Russia threat—that is, adopting an understanding of Putin as a
tactician operating under significant constraints—should form the basis for
determining appropriate policy responses to his actions. Policymakers should
recognize that Putin’s goals might be a moving target and avoid static assessments.
Regularly testing the proposition that he might have adjusted to new
circumstances would be a sensible approach.
Regardless, a proper
understanding of Russia's threat must begin with an accurate appraisal of
Russian power. Putin might harbor fantasies of world conquest. But at the
moment, his military cannot fully conquer any of the four Ukrainian provinces
he claims to have annexed last year. Ultimately, those are the constraints that
should bind the debate about the extent of the threat.
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