Uttering one word, one man could end Russia’s wider war on Ukraine. 

With a single word, he could halt the fighting that, in 40 bloody months, has killed or maimed some 1,000,000 Russians and nearly half a million Ukrainians. He could ease the nuclear fears the conflict has stoked. He could relieve the strain on the Russian and Ukrainian economies—and allow the devastated landscape in eastern and southern Ukraine to finally begin healing.

That word is “stop.” And the only man who can say it is the Russian Pres. Vladimir Putin, on whose orders 200,000 Russian troops further invaded Ukraine on 24 February 2022. 

What will it take for Putin to say the word? That question, more than any other, informs Ukraine’s theory of victory as the wider war grinds into its fourth year and both sides show signs of exhaustion. Ukraine could defeat Russia militarily, effectively giving Putin no choice but to say stop—lest the Ukrainian army destroy whatever forces Russia might still have left following decisive losses in Ukraine. 

Or Russia could defeat Ukraine militarily, satisfying Putin’s original conditions for victory. Putin could say stop because he’s gotten everything he ever wanted in Ukraine.

But there’s a third and arguably likelier outcome. Putin could order his armies to stand down not because they’ve actually won, but because Putin says they’ve won.

Dictators, including elected ones such as Putin, tend to be political survivalists—and Putin’s sense of self-preservation could lead him to declare victory in Ukraine if and when he begins to sense he’s losing … and losing domestic political support as his armies falter.

Declaring victory without winning

This sort of thing happens all the time. Palestinian military group Hamas routinely declares victory in its various clashes with Israel, even when the outcomes of the conflicts are often devastating to the group. Hamas has repeatedly declared victory in the bloody war instigated by the group’s brutal cross-border raids into southern Israel in October 2023—despite Israeli retaliation that has killed tens of thousands of Palestinian fighters and civilians and rendered Gaza all but uninhabitable. 

“The Hamas claim of victory … has further goals,” Palestinian writer Aws Abu Ata noted. “The movement seeks to form a safety belt for itself to avoid being held accountable for the very crises it has provoked.”

As long as a critical mass of Hamas supporters believe, despite their suffering, that they and the militant group are the victors, the Palestinian liberation movement may endure in some form.

Putin could pursue a similar survival strategy. He could simply declare victory in Ukraine, and then attempt to convince his base—Russian elites and tens of millions of everyday Russians—that the victory is legitimate and not the desperate projection of an imperiled dictator.

And yes, Putin is imperiled. Just two years ago, the Wagner Group—the notorious Russian mercenary company led by Russian oligarch Yevgeny Prigozhin—staged an uprising against Putin’s regime. Thousands of Wagner troops marched on Moscow. The uprising ended when Prigozhin unwisely agreed to meet Putin in Moscow, only to perish when his plane fell to the ground in flames, likely shot down. 

Meanwhile in Ukraine, increasingly vehicle-starved Russian field armies are losing more than a thousand troops a day in grinding assaults on Ukrainian defenses—and gaining just a few hundred square kilometers a month in exchange for the massive bloodletting, in a country with a total area of 603,000 square kilometers.

The costly Russian attacks are sustainable because the Kremlin recruits slightly more troops than it loses every month. But that robust recruitment is possible for just two reasons. “Driven by high sign-on bonuses and speculation that the war will soon be over, more than 1,000 men join the Russian military every day,” noted Janis Kluge, deputy head of the Eastern Europe & Eurasia Division at the German Institute for International and Security Affairs. 

Explore further

How Ukraine can win, p.2: The single drone target that could cripple Russia’s oil empire

The bonuses and other wartime spending are eating the Russian economy.

“All told, Russia’s defense budget will account for 40% of all government expenditures, which is at its highest level since the Cold War,” Gen. Christopher Cavoli, commander of US Army forces in Europe, told US lawmakers on 3 April.

By comparison, the US federal government spends 13% of its budget on the military.

This is unsustainable. As the cost of servicing a ballooning debt crowds out other spending priorities, Putin has reportedly been casting around for conflict off-ramps. However and whenever Putin chooses to end the war, declaring victory for Russia is surely part of the exit strategy.

The US may give Putin the cover he needs

Talk is easy, of course. Real persuasion could be hard.

“Putin has laid out his maximal goals for this conflict,” explained Thomas Graham, a former US National Security Council staffer who is currently a fellow with the Council on Foreign Relations in New York City. “At the moment, he needs to make a credible claim of success on each of these goals to declare victory—and that means no NATO membership for Ukraine, international recognition of the land he has seized as Russian, the demilitarization and ‘denazification’ of Ukraine, and the lifting of Western sanctions.”   

“He will not achieve these goals in a negotiated settlement,” Graham asserted.

That’s almost certainly true if the settlement is with Ukraine. But US President Donald Trump, who frequently apes Russian propaganda and has described Putin as strong and smart, has sent his envoys to speak directly with their Russian counterparts in an effort to negotiate an end to the war on terms that favor Russia. 

Trump could lend Putin the domestic political cover Putin needs to sell a unilateral declaration of victory in Ukraine—by giving Russia things Ukraine and Ukraine’s European allies won’t give it. 

What a US-brokered deal could mean for Ukraine

Trump could officially endorse Russian control over occupied territories. Indeed, the White House has already offered to recognize Crimea as part of  Russia. And since the admission of a new member state to NATO requires the consent of all current members, the United States alone could block any Ukrainian bid to join the alliance. 

The Trump administration could also lift US sanctions on Russia—and clearly wants to. US Secretary of State Marco Rubio said an end to the war would be “the key that unlocks the door” for “potentially historic economic partnerships” between the United States and Russia. 

“The Russian president is in the extraordinary position where he sees the opportunity to entrust his American colleague with imposing a Russian-designed peace settlement on Ukraine,” observed John Lough, a fellow with Chatham House, a London think tank.

The stated Russian war objectives Washington can’t just deliver to Moscow are the most esoteric—and the easiest for Putin to simply claim: the “demilitarization” and “denazification” of the Ukrainian armed forces. 

Explore further

How Ukraine can win, p.1. Swarms of dirt-cheap drones decimate Putin’s armor

Russia has killed or wounded hundreds of thousands of Ukrainian troops since February 2022: does that qualify as “demilitarization”? There are very few actual Nazis in the Ukrainian military, but there are surely thousands of right-wing Ukrainian nationalists among Ukraine’s war dead: is that “denazification”?

When both sides claim victory, the war may end

It’s evident Putin is already laying the rhetorical groundwork for claiming Russia has demilitarized and denazified Ukraine. Putin believes key war goals have been achieved, a source close to the Kremlin told Reuters in January.

As Russian casualties reached one million, Russia’s stocks of armored vehicles run low and borrowing costs continue to climb in the sanctions-squeezed, war-strained Russian economy, the temptation for Putin to declare victory and halt major offensive action—at least for a while—should only increase. Especially given how little ground Russian forces have gained in Ukraine since their retreat from Kyiv Oblast in the spring of 2022.

Incredibly, Ukraine could also claim it has won.

“In the end, both sides may claim some form of victory,” explained Tatarigami, the founder of the Ukrainian Frontelligence Insight analysis group.

“Russia by pointing to territorial gains; and Ukraine by claiming its success in preventing Russia from achieving its stated strategic objectives.”

David Axe

David Axe is a writer and filmmaker in South Carolina in the United States.

Behind every drone that could charge the next Ukrainian counteroffensive is an innovator trying to scale. We’re launching the David vs. Goliath defense blog to support these Ukrainian engineers – and are inviting you to join us on the journey.

Our platform will showcase the Ukrainian defense tech underdogs that are Ukraine’s hope to win in the war against Russia, giving them the much-needed visibility to connect them with crucial expertise, funding, and international support. Together, we can give David the best fighting chance he has.

Join us in building this platform — become a Euromaidan Press Patron. As little as $5 monthly will boost strategic innovations that could succeed where traditional approaches have failed.

Since the full-scale invasion began in February 2022, Ukraine’s defense forces have proven remarkably effective at targeting Russian rotary-wing aircraft, achieving key tactical victories that have impacted Russia’s air support capabilities. These incidents are not just statistics; they highlight evolving warfare dynamics, the ingenuity of defenders, and underscore the potency of modern weapon systems used against even advanced aircraft. Tracking confirmed losses and captures provides crucial insights into the ongoing air war. Here are five major incidents including notable captures and successful shoot-downs that have significantly impacted Russia’s helicopter fleet and made international headlines between 2022 and 2025.

Detailed Incidents

1. Captured Ka‑52 “Alligator” near Kyiv Airport (Feb–Apr 2022)

• Incident: During the initial, intense assault on Kyiv on 24 February 2022, Russian Ka‑52 “Alligator” attack helicopters played a key role in attempting to secure objectives like the Hostomel airport. Exposed to determined Ukrainian air defenses, several were hit by MANPADS (Man-Portable Air-Defense Systems). One specific Ka-52 sustained damage and crash-landed near Hostomel airport. Its wreck remained relatively intact in the field through early April 2022, after the initial Russian advance was repelled. Ukrainian special operations forces eventually secured the downed helicopter.


• Significance:
  
  
  
  • This incident was one of the earliest high-profile confirmed losses of Russia’s most advanced attack helicopter type.
  
  
  • Crucially, securing a relatively intact airframe provided Ukrainian forces, and potentially their Western partners, with rare access to modern Russian aviation technology.
  
  
  • Analyzing its systems, avionics, and countermeasures offered invaluable insights into Russian capabilities and weaknesses, informing defensive strategies and electronic warfare efforts.
  
  
  • The capture became a symbol of failed Russian air assault tactics during the initial phase of the invasion.
  
  
  
  

2. Russian Mi-8 Helicoper Captured by Defecting Pilot (Aug 2023)

• Incident: In a stunning and highly unusual incident in August 2023, a Russian Mi-8AMTSh transport helicopter, carrying parts for Su-27 and Su-30 fighter jets, landed at a Ukrainian military airfield near Kharkiv. The pilot, Maksym Kuzminov, had deliberately defected to Ukraine in a pre-planned operation coordinated with Ukraine’s Main Intelligence Directorate (HUR). The two other crew members onboard, unaware of the plan, were reportedly killed attempting to resist after landing.


• Significance:
  
  
  
  • This was a major intelligence coup for Ukraine, providing access not only to a modern Mi-8 variant but also to valuable aircraft parts and, most importantly, the pilot’s testimony and insights into Russian air force operations and morale.
  
  
  • The incident delivered a significant psychological blow to the Russian military, highlighting potential internal dissent and raising concerns about the trustworthiness of their personnel.
  
  
  • It demonstrated the effectiveness of Ukrainian intelligence operations aimed at encouraging defections.
  
  
  • The captured helicopter itself became a military asset for Ukraine and a subject of international media attention.
  
  
  
  

3. HIMARS Strikes on Ka‑52 & Mi‑8 in Russia’s Belgorod (Mar 2025)

• Incident: In a sophisticated deep-action strike in March 2025, Ukrainian forces successfully targeted a forward staging airfield in Belgorod Oblast, Russia, located relatively close to the Ukrainian border. Utilizing M30A2-guided rockets fired from the US-provided HIMARS (High Mobility Artillery Rocket System), Ukrainian precision strikes reportedly destroyed two Ka‑52 attack helicopters and two Mi‑8 transports that were positioned on the ground.


• Significance:
  
  
  
  • This strike demonstrated Ukraine’s increasing capability to accurately hit high-value Russian military assets located deep behind the immediate front lines using Western-supplied long-range precision artillery.
  
  
  • Targeting helicopters on the ground, particularly advanced types like the Ka-52, is an effective way to degrade Russia’s air support capabilities before they can even reach the combat zone.
  
  
  • The incident underscored the vulnerability of even seemingly secure forward operating bases to modern guided missile systems like HIMARS.
  
  
  • It highlighted Ukraine’s intelligence capabilities in identifying and targeting valuable concentrations of Russian military equipment.
  
  
  
  

SOF, along with the military intelligence and Rocket Forces and Artillery, struck and destroyed 4 russian helicopters – two Kamov Ka-52 and two Mil Mi-8 – behind enemy lines at russia’s hidden position for rapid redeployment or attacks against Ukraine. pic.twitter.com/57swOQxZnc

— SPECIAL OPERATIONS FORCES OF UKRAINE (@SOF_UKR) March 24, 2025

4. Significant Mi‑24/35 and Ka‑52 Losses in 2023 Combat Operations

• Mi‑24/35: The Mi-24 (Hind) and its modernized variants (Mi-35) have been workhorse attack helicopters for Russia. Throughout 2023, these aircraft continued to operate in contested airspace and faced significant threats. For instance, in early April 2023, a Russian Mi‑24VM variant was specifically reported as shot down in Kharkiv Oblast due to MANPADS fire.


• Ka‑52: The Ka-52 “Alligator” saw extensive use, particularly in supporting ground offensives in 2023. However, it also suffered heavy losses. Reports from open sources and visually confirmed losses tracked by organizations like Oryx indicate that numerous Ka‑52s were destroyed across combat zones including critical sectors like Vuhledar, Avdiivka, and areas in Belgorod Oblast. Visual confirmations alone account for over 64 losses of this type throughout the conflict by the end of 2023, with reports suggesting over 20 destroyed within that specific year.


• Significance:
  
  
  
  • These sustained losses underscore the persistent vulnerability of Russian attack helicopters to a combination of layered Ukrainian defenses, including shoulder-fired MANPADS, short-range air defenses, artillery fire, FPV drones, and electronic warfare that disrupts their targeting and navigation.
  
  
  • Despite their armor and countermeasures, both older Mi-24/35 and newer Ka-52s proved susceptible when operating in high-threat environments.
  
  
  • The attrition rate for these helicopters significantly degraded Russia’s ability to provide close air support and perform reconnaissance effectively.
  
  
  
  

5. Mi‑28N “Night Hunter” Wreckages Found in Hostomel (2022)

• Incident: During the initial invasion in February 2022, Russian forces attempted to seize key airfields, including Hostomel, using helicopter assaults spearheaded by attack aviation. Among the types deployed was the Mil Mi-28N “Night Hunter,” intended as Russia’s premier all-weather attack helicopter. Following the failed assault on Kyiv and the withdrawal of Russian forces from northern Ukraine in late March and April 2022, the wreckage of at least two Mi‑28N attack helicopters was discovered in the vicinity of Hostomel and other northern areas like Kharkiv Oblast. These losses were attributed to successful engagements by Ukrainian ground forces using MANPADS and other ground-based anti-aircraft fire.


• Significance:
  
  
  
  • The loss of Mi-28N helicopters, similar to the Ka-52 losses, demonstrated that even Russia’s newer, technologically advanced attack helicopters were not immune to Ukrainian air defenses.
  
  
  • It showed that aircraft intended for high survivability in contested environments could be effectively neutralized by relatively low-cost, portable weapon systems when operating at low altitudes or during vulnerable phases of flight like landings and takeoffs.
  
  
  • The presence of their wrecks among others near key objectives like Hostomel highlighted the heavy cost Russia paid in rotary-wing assets during the initial, unsuccessful attempts to achieve rapid air superiority and capture strategic points from the air.
  
  
  
  

Quick Stats on Russian Helicopter Losses (as of mid-2025)

Based on aggregated data from open sources like Oryx and reputable military analysis sites, the confirmed visual losses of Russian helicopters in Ukraine are significant:

• Ka‑52 “Alligator”: Around 60 visually confirmed destroyed, with others damaged or captured. This represents a substantial portion of Russia’s operational Ka-52 fleet entering the invasion.


• Mi-8/Mi-17 Transports: Over 23 visually confirmed destroyed, including various transport and specialized variants, with some captured (like the notable incident in August 2023). These losses impact troop and cargo movement capabilities.


• Mi-24/Mi-35 Attack Helicopters: Over 13 visually confirmed total losses of these older, but still widely used, attack helicopters.


• Mi-28N “Night Hunter”: Around 13 visually confirmed destroyed, with others damaged. These losses are particularly impactful given the Mi-28N’s intended role as a premier attack platform.


• Other Types: Additional losses include Mi-26 heavy transport helicopters, Ka-29, and other types, though in smaller numbers.

Collectively, the confirmed visually verifiable losses of Russian helicopters in the conflict likely exceed 100 airframes by mid-2025. While challenging to give an exact real-time figure (actual losses are likely higher than visually confirmed), this represents a significant percentage of Russia’s pre-war rotary-wing force and seriously degrades their air assault, close air support, and logistical capabilities. 

Why These Losses Matter

These specific incidents and the overall high rate of Russian helicopter losses are important for several reasons:

• Technological Evolution of Warfare: They powerfully demonstrate the rising efficacy and proliferation of modern anti-air systems, ranging from advanced MANPADS and short-range air defenses to guided missiles (like HIMARS against ground targets) and the increasing threat posed by various types of drones.


• Shifting Air Warfare Dynamics: The vulnerability of rotary-wing assets in contested airspaces signals a significant shift from earlier conflicts where helicopters could often operate with relative impunity. This forces changes in tactics, requiring greater caution, better electronic warfare support, and adaptation to operate in environments where the “air is not clear.”


• Impact on Ground Operations: Helicopters are vital for rapid troop deployment, close air support, medical evacuation, and logistics. Their significant attrition rate directly impedes Russia’s ability to conduct these operations effectively, impacting the pace and success of ground offensives.


• Intelligence Gathering: The capture of intact or relatively intact airframes (like the Ka-52 and Mi-8) provides invaluable intelligence on Russian technology and tactics, aiding Ukraine and its allies in developing countermeasures.


• Psychological and Morale Impact: Capturing and destroying expensive, high-profile military assets like attack helicopters not only has operational consequences but also serves as a powerful symbol of resistance and success for Ukrainian forces, undermining Russian morale.

Takeaway

The cases of Russian helicopters captured or destroyed in Ukraine showcase the brutal realities of modern warfare and the effectiveness of determined defense against technologically advanced adversaries. The evolving methods used by Ukrainian forces ranging from proven surface-to-air missiles and precise HIMARS strikes against ground targets, to innovative uses of drones and successful intelligence operations leading to captures highlight Ukraine’s strategic innovation and adaptation.

These incidents not only shift battlefield dynamics by making rotary-wing assets significantly more vulnerable but symbolize a broader recalibration of air power effectiveness in the face of widely available and capable defensive systems in 2025.

Surprisingly, Russian soldiers used scissors to down a Ukrainian fiber-optic drone — but Kyiv also knows a trick or two

Russia’s new V2U AI drone hunts Ukraine’s best weapons—so far, it is unjammable

The Moscow generals who planned a “three-day” victory. The nuclear bombers that threatened Alaska for decades. The Wagner mercenaries who carved up African nations like personal fiefdoms — all neutralized by a country the world still sees as David fighting Goliath.

In just three years, Ukraine’s shadow warriors have rewritten the playbook of 21st-century espionage. They’ve assassinated Moscow’s top brass in their own capital, sabotaged Russia’s strategic bomber fleet with drones hidden in delivery trucks, and turned Putin’s African empire into a hunting ground — without a single Western spy officer leaving their desk.

As the West debates red lines and escalation risks, Ukraine’s spies are doing what no NATO agency dared: hunting Russian war criminals across three continents, from Moscow’s suburbs to Mali’s deserts — the very territories where Russia projected power unopposed for years.

Russia’s failed blitzkrieg birthed something far more dangerous than Ukrainian resistance — Ukrainian revenge. Putin’s quick war fantasy created a long-term horror: adversaries who follow no playbook but their own, with the owl now hunting the bear in its own den.

When David learned to fight dirty

Since 2022, Ukraine’s army has rapidly grown into one of the most inventive forces of the 21st century. As former US Secretary of State Antony Blinken quipped in 2023, Russia now fields “the second-strongest army in Ukraine” — a nod to how Ukrainian defenders have outsmarted what was once seen as a global military giant.

Yet, while Ukraine’s conventional forces make headlines, it’s the country’s intelligence services – especially the Main Directorate of Intelligence (HUR) — that are quietly waging a global shadow war against Russia. Many of Ukraine’s boldest missions bear HUR’s fingerprints: from assassinations deep inside Russia to sabotage operations across Africa and Syria, Ukraine’s military intelligence has become one of the world’s most active — and feared — covert forces.

Now, Ukraine’s domestic security agency, the SBU, has shown up too, reshaping the future of warfare. On 1 June, after 18 months of planning, the SBU neutralized 34% of Russia’s nuclear-capable long-range bombers in a single operation.

Explore further

Ukraine’s own drones crash Putin’s $7-billion “red lines” aircraft — while Russia fights them back with sticks

Dubbed “Spider Web,” the operation used 117 smuggled drones hidden in cargo trucks to strike five Russian airbases — some as far as 4,000 kilometers (2,485 miles) from Ukraine. The attack damaged or destroyed at least 13 strategic bombers, with Ukrainian estimates putting Russia’s losses at $7 billion.

In effect, Ukraine also did the United States a favor by striking the Tu-95 bombers — aircraft that have loomed as a nuclear threat to the US, especially near Alaska, for decades.

However, after what may be one of the most daring operations to rewrite the modern intelligence playbook, the race between HUR and the SBU is only heating up — and Moscow has every reason to fear what comes next.

The secret squad that crosses every red line

HUR’s reach now extends far beyond Ukraine’s borders, reflecting a doctrine forged through years of war with Russia and close cooperation with Western partners like the CIA and MI6.

“If you’re asking about Mossad as being famous [for]… eliminating enemies of their state, then we were doing it and we will be doing it,” said HUR chief, General Kyrylo Budanov. “We don’t need to create anything because it already exists.”

Israel’s Mossad has long been considered the gold standard in espionage and sabotage. That image faltered after its failure to prevent the 7 October 2023 Hamas attacks — but Israel quickly reasserted its reputation with a dramatic retaliation.

However, in September 2024, it made a brutal comeback with a headline-grabbing retaliation known as the “pager attack,” when explosives hidden in pagers and walkie-talkies were slipped to Hezbollah fighters and remotely detonated, killing dozens and injuring thousands more.

Ukraine, it seems, was taking notes. In February 2025, its intelligence services reportedly pulled off an echo of the pager attack: FPV drone goggles rigged with explosives were funneled to Russian units by fake donors posing as pro-Kremlin volunteers. When Russian drone operators opened the gear — it blew up in their hands.

“Ukraine’s ability to carry out an operation akin to the pager attack in Lebanon hinges on a robust and evolving intelligence service capable of complex global operations,” said Treston Wheat, chief geopolitical officer at Insight Forward and adjunct professor at Georgetown University.

Russia, meanwhile, was waging its own shadow campaign. In July 2024, it was suspected of sending parcel bombs across Europe, hiding incendiary devices in packages disguised as sex toys and fake cosmetics — a covert operation revealed months later by a Reuters investigation.

Yet, in the world of modern spycraft, it’s Ukraine that’s increasingly setting the pace. While Ukraine remains tight-lipped about its role in targeted assassinations, the precision and success of its recent operations speak volumes.

As a leading Russia analyst Mark Galeotti put it, the Kremlin is “well aware of HUR’s capabilities,” adding that Russian security agencies “treat it with considerable professional respect — even if equal dislike.”

Why Putin’s generals can’t sleep safely in Moscow

Andriy Cherniak of Ukraine’s military intelligence has made the stakes clear: anyone attacking Ukraine “is being watched.” Working hand-in-hand with the SBU, Ukraine’s spies have hunted down Russian war criminals and collaborators — even deep inside Moscow. In recent months, Kyiv has eliminated several Russian generals, with the Kremlin’s security agencies seemingly powerless to stop the growing reach of Kyiv’s covert war.

“They’ve been effective in terms of tactical outcomes, many of the missions have succeeded, including high-profile assassinations beyond Ukraine’s borders,” said Ukraine’s MP Oleksandra Ustinova, claiming that hunting down war criminals offers a powerful morale boost for Ukrainians.

Beyond revenge, these strikes serve a larger purpose: exposing the cracks in Russia’s security and political system, shaking confidence in its military leadership, and sending a message to the Kremlin itself. As Ustinova explains, military victories help reshape the political landscape — making it harder for Russia to sustain its campaign — the strategic logic behind Ukraine’s covert war.

“They’ve also shown the West that Ukraine’s capabilities go far beyond what we’ve traditionally been credited with,” Ustinova adds. “Even if they deliver smaller-scale successes, they still play a vital role in the broader campaign.”

Kyiv also believes it has shattered a long-standing Western fear: that any Ukrainian strike inside Russia — even in Moscow — would trigger massive escalation.

“These assassinations help demonstrate that,” Ustinova said, adding that the West seems far more afraid of what Ukraine could do to Russia if finally allowed to fight without limits.

How the CIA trained Russia’s most dangerous enemy

Ukraine’s rise as an intelligence powerhouse didn’t happen overnight — and it didn’t happen alone. After Russia launched its war in 2014, both the SBU and HUR — riddled with Russian infiltration, abandoned by fleeing operatives, and crippled by lost documents and shattered capabilities — were left in disarray and in urgent need of rebuilding.

The CIA saw it as a rare chance to rebuild a key ally against Russian aggression — but remained wary of the SBU, burdened by its Soviet legacy, a track record of corruption, and deep entanglement in economic crimes. While the CIA did invest in the SBU, including the creation of a new spy unit called the Fifth Directorate, it was HUR — Ukraine’s foreign-facing intelligence agency — that emerged as the biggest beneficiary of Western support.

In 2015–2016, under then-HUR chief Valerii Kondratiuk, Kyiv quietly began laying the groundwork for covert warfare, anticipating the day Russia would escalate to full-scale invasion. Soon after, the CIA funneled millions into training and equipping Ukraine’s intelligence officers. The goal was bigger than short-term support, seeking to transform Ukraine’s post-Soviet spy services into a modern, proactive force capable of striking deep behind enemy lines.

According to a former US diplomat stationed in Kyiv, Kondratiuk took significant personal risks to forge the partnership, likely handing over intelligence he wasn’t officially authorized to disclose. The gamble paid off: soon, the US began receiving sensitive data it hadn’t seen in decades.

Explore further

The world’s largest bank says Ukraine will fail—apparently forgetting Ukraine doesn’t take orders

The day Ukraine went too far — and was right

With US help, Ukraine built a network of secret forward bases near the Russian border — launchpads for sabotage, electronic warfare, and deep-penetration missions. The true scope of CIA support remains shrouded in secrecy: much of the partnership is classified, and the boldest operations likely unfolded far from public eye.

However, one glimpse into that shadow war came in August 2016. With Russian helicopters deployed in occupied Crimea, HUR special forces crossed enemy lines on a sabotage raid. A firefight erupted with Russian security agents. According to HUR, its agents killed Colonel Roman Kameniev — one of the top commanders of Russia’s special service (FSB) in Crimea — and Sergeant Semen Sychov, injuring others before exfiltrating.

The incident was so sensitive it sent shockwaves through capitals. Then-President Petro Poroshenko cut short a foreign trip, while US President Barack Obama considered shutting down Ukraine’s covert operations program entirely. Joe Biden, then Vice President, warned Ukraine’s president that “it cannot come close to happening again,” while Putin threatened to “not let such things slide by.”

That fear of Russian escalation has haunted US policy ever since, with Biden administration officials often paralyzed by fears of crossing Kremlin “red lines.” However, Kyiv has taken matters into its own hands — crossing Moscow’s so-called red lines again and again, and proving the Kremlin’s threats are more bark than bite.

The owl that haunts Putin’s nightmares

That firefight in Crimea would go on to shape more than just tactics — it forged the identity of Ukraine’s modern intelligence services. The mission, carried out by operatives from Ukraine’s Budanov’s unit, ended with the death of a Russian Spetsnaz commander who was also the son of a general. In the aftermath, the unit, already known for its audacity, adopted a new symbol: an owl with a sword piercing the heart of Russia.

The owl was chosen not only as a symbol of wisdom, but because it is the natural predator of bats — the emblem of Russia’s special forces, commonly known as Spetsnaz. It was also a deliberate counter to the Spetsnaz motto “Above us only stars.” It was also a bold answer to the Spetsnaz motto, “Above us only stars.” HUR’s quiet reply, etched in Latin: Sapiens dominabitur astris — Only the wise rule the stars. The Kremlin tried to smear the emblem as “fascist” and “extremist” — a sure sign it hit where it hurt.

The emblem was seemingly born from that very raid. Budanov reportedly kept live owls at their base, and the symbol was intended as a message to the Spetsnaz: we see in the dark, and we strike without warning. The image now sits behind Budanov’s desk, an enduring nod to the roots of HUR’s rise and to sticking it to the Russians. Budanov has also been the target of 10 Russian assassination attempts.

The assassins who saved democracy

By 2021, Ukraine’s intelligence operatives were not only trained for war – they were carrying out global missions. During the fall of Kabul, HUR executed a high-risk evacuation operation, rescuing some 700 people over six flights, including Ukrainian nationals and foreign allies. Ukrainian soldiers escorted convoys through Taliban-controlled streets to the airport, often on foot and under threat in Afghanistan.

When Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, HUR’s elite “Shaman Battalion” helped stop Kyiv from falling. The unit played a crucial role in the battle for Hostomel Airport, a key target Russia hoped to seize quickly to land troops just outside the capital. While they held the line there, other HUR teams sabotaged Russian convoys and supply routes, disrupting the advance toward Kyiv.

Later that year, the battalion carried out one of the war’s most daring missions — in the besieged city of Mariupol. As Russian forces surrounded the Azovstal steel plant, where hundreds of Ukrainian soldiers were trapped, HUR organized a series of helicopter raids behind enemy lines. Over the course of seven missions, they dropped supplies and evacuated the wounded, flying through hostile airspace in low-altitude, high-risk runs — piloted by volunteers who knew they might not return.

Explore further

“Dudes with track pants and hunting rifles”: why Ukraine became the West’s most embarrassing blind spot

How Ukrainian spies made Wagner afraid of the desert

HUR’s ambitions haven’t stopped at Ukraine’s borders. The Washington Post reported that in late 2024, Ukrainian intelligence sent around 20 experienced drone operators and around 150 first-person view (FPV) drones to Syrian rebels to assist in the fight against the Assad Regime — an echo of Budanov’s earlier pledge that Ukraine would hunt down Russia’s war criminals “in any part of the world.”

In Africa, HUR has supported efforts to attack Wagner mercenaries in Sudan and Mali, including an ambush in Mali that killed 84 Wagner mercenaries. ​Serhii Kuzan, chair of the Ukrainian Security and Cooperation Center, claims that among the Russian mercenaries killed in Mali were numerous criminals who had previously fought in Eastern Ukraine, some dating back as far as 2014.

Bah Traoré Legrand, a researcher from Senegal, noted that “Due to the current dynamics of international geopolitics, Mali has become the backdrop for indirect clashes between Russia and Ukraine.” 

However, not everyone is convinced Ukraine had a direct hand in the operation — a view reinforced by HUR spokesperson Andriy Yusov, who claimed Kyiv provided the Malian rebels only the “necessary” information to carry out the attack.

Antonio Giustozzi, a Senior Research Fellow at the Royal United Services Institute (RUSI), also cast doubt on Ukraine’s involvement in Mali, pointing out that no solid evidence links it directly to the operation.

“If there was an involvement, it was likely by providing some funding and perhaps some equipment to rebel groups in Mali,” he said.

These operations, however, have clearly unnerved Moscow. Russian Foreign Ministry spokeswoman Maria Zakharova has accused Ukraine of “opening a second front in Africa,” claiming Kyiv now seeks to destabilize Russia wherever it can.

From Syria to Sudan — and deep inside Russia itself — HUR’s expanding shadow war reflects Ukraine’s psychological campaign aimed at shaking Moscow’s grip on influence and fear.

“They [the Ukrainians] have to prove to African countries that the Russians are not all-powerful and can also lose,” said Irina Filatova, a Russian historian based in South Africa.

Tensions boiled over in April 2025. During a press conference in Moscow, Mali’s Foreign Minister Abdoulaye Diop — standing beside Russia’s Sergey Lavrov — labeled Ukraine a “terrorist state.” The outrage stemmed from a deadly strike in Mali that killed Wagner-linked fighters.

Kyiv fired back. Yevhen Dykyi, former commander of Ukraine’s Aidar Battalion and a military analyst, added that Ukraine is determined to hunt down Wagner mercenaries wherever they operate — including across Africa, having “a score to settle.”

“The true threat to African stability and progress is the Russian Wagner mercenaries, who bring nothing but death, destruction, and plunder wherever they go,” declared a spokesperson for Ukraine’s Foreign Ministry in response to the accusations.

When Ukraine’s revenge became the West’s best investment

These moves leave little doubt: Ukraine has no intention of halting its global campaign against Russian mercenaries. On the contrary, the operation is gaining momentum. And if the West stepped up support for HUR’s worldwide missions — even with modest investments — the returns could be game-changing.

Such backing could help Ukraine erode Russia’s expanding influence in Africa, disrupt Wagner’s operations, and strengthen local resistance to authoritarian entrenchment.

“Russia essentially benefits from its African involvement by gaining votes in the UN assembly and by showing Western powers that it has the ability to undermine their interests in various parts of the world,” Giustozzi said.

Mick Ryan, a former Australian major general, echoed that point. He argued that Ukraine’s growing reach — from Africa to the Middle East — sends a clear signal: the West has far less to fear from Russia than it imagines. Even in war-torn Afghanistan, Moscow is no longer seen as untouchable — increasingly seen not as a global force, but as a frequent target of Kyiv’s drone strikes

In contrast, the Biden administration’s early posture in 2022 was shaped by fear of escalation and crossing Putin’s self-proclaimed “red lines.” While Ukrainian forces reclaimed occupied territory, Washington hesitated. The White House didn’t enable a Ukrainian victory — it played it safe.

However, history shows that bold intelligence work can help bend history toward justice. During World War II, Czech and British agents assassinated Nazi leader Reinhard Heydrich, while Mossad hunted down and eliminated members of Black September responsible for the Munich Olympics massacre.

In the years to come, NATO intelligence services will look to their Ukrainian counterparts not as students, but as peers. Ukraine has already shown what it means to punch above its weight. This is a nation, after all, that the current CIA Director John Ratcliffe recently described as willing to “fight with their bare hands if they have to, if they don’t have terms that are acceptable to an enduring peace.”

When Yulia Navalnaya accepted the 2023 Oscar for the film about her husband — Putin’s chief political rival then jailed in Russia — she never mentioned Ukraine: the country bombed daily by the regime they allegedly opposed.

Navalny was the “good Russian” — outspoken, dead in unjust captivity under strange circumstances — and highly controversial for Ukrainians who remembered his words: Crimea would remain part of Russia. In his agenda, the war was “Putin’s aggression”—not centuries of Russian imperialism.

The echo repeated two years later, when Anora — a saga about the affair between a sex worker and the son of a Russian oligarch — swept five Oscars, including Best Picture. Months before, Russian actors on stage, including Yuri Borisov, who starred in Kremlin propaganda films and visited occupied Crimea, were showered with standing ovations at Cannes.

Since 2022, Ukraine’s war has extended beyond the battlefield, capturing the world’s attention. In reality, some of its deadliest frontlines run along Eurovision contests, literary classics readings, and opera performances — all viable tools of Russian soft power and imperial messaging.

And here is the uncomfortable truth: Western audiences can’t spot the difference between Russian dissidents and Russian imperialists. Ukrainians can — and they’re tired of explaining why it matters.

Explore further

Why Ukraine can’t just “make peace”: top historian explains what the West gets wrong about peace with Russia

“Any conversation about Ukraine quickly turns into a conversation about Russia’s problems”

In 2022, Olha Rudenko, editor of The Kyiv Independent, sparked this discussion in her social media post criticizing Western roundtables and discussions about Ukraine for routinely inviting “good” Russians, arguing that this practice leads to the Ukrainian narrative being overshadowed or hijacked by Russian voices, even when the topic is Ukraine’s reconstruction or the war itself.

According to Rudenko, mixing Russian and Ukrainian narratives in these forums is not only wrong but deeply inappropriate because the war is fundamentally about Ukraine’s sovereignty and identity, which Ukrainians are defending at great cost.

“It is important for our future that Russia is reborn into something normal. But that doesn’t mean that every conversation about Ukraine [should be] a conversation about Russia,” Rudenko wrote. “Such mixing is a shameful and humiliating practice that directly follows both old Soviet and more recent Kremlin narratives.”

She also criticizes Russian liberals and independent media for lacking responsibility and self-reflection about their society’s support for the war, describing them as seeing themselves as “hero victims” rather than confronting their complicity.

For example, just recently this year, the Russian opposition outlet Meduza launched a promo campaign in several European cities — including Berlin, London, Paris, and Helsinki — featuring photos of Ukrainian civilian casualties and war victims.

The backlash came fast — Meduza plastered Europe with the images of Ukrainians killed by Russia to advertise their own struggles as exiled journalists. Critics called it exploitative, and the campaign was later terminated.

“When 70+ percent of society supports the killing of civilians and a war of aggression, they are not victims, they are potential killers,” Rudenko believes. “In 30 years, Russian society has not created values to fill this void, and so it is filled by Solovyev and Simonyan [top propagandists].”

The vicious cycle behind the West’s obsession with “good Russians”

A panel discussion titled “Exiled but Accountable: The Ukrainian Answer to the ‘Non-Putin Russians’ Dilemma” revealed how Ukrainian analysts understand Western confusion through a simple psychological framework that governs human relationships.

When you watch Western media coverage of the war, you might notice something puzzling: stories about Ukrainian suffering often appear alongside sympathetic portraits of Russian opposition figures. Both groups compete for your attention as victims of Putin’s regime. This isn’t accidental — it follows a predictable psychological pattern.

The triangle that traps Western thinking

Executive Director of the Institute of Post-Information Society and Ukraine’s former Deputy Minister of Information Policy Dmytro Zolotukhin explains this through the Karpman Drama Triangle — a psychological model that reveals how dysfunctional relationships actually work.

The Karpman Drama Triangle, developed by psychiatrist Stephen B. Karpman in 1968, maps three shifting roles that people unconsciously adopt: victim, abuser, and savior.

In this dynamic, Ukrainians consistently appeal to Western audiences from the victim position, sending the message that “we are victims who need saving.”

Western governments and institutions respond by adopting the savior role, expressing belief in Ukrainian victimhood and promising to help mediate between Ukrainians and their Russian “abusers.”

However, the triangle becomes complicated when Russian opposition figures enter the equation. These individuals compete with Ukrainians for victim status, claiming they too suffer under Putin’s regime. This competition splits Western attention and resources between two competing victim narratives.

“They compete with Ukrainians for the attention of Western saviors and for resources like the National Endowment for Democracy budget, which has significant funding for Russian democracy activities,” Zolotukhin said.

Breaking free from the victim trap

Zolotukhin’s solution involves Ukrainian withdrawal from the victim position entirely, emphasizing that Ukrainians have already demonstrated remarkable resilience and democratic functionality even while under military attack.

“We’ve shown how to stop being victims several times in our history,” he argued.

The numbers support his point. Since Russia’s invasion of Crimea in 2014, Ukraine has conducted multiple free and fair elections under wartime conditions — something few democracies have managed historically. This track record positions Ukraine not as a victim seeking rescue, but as a democracy offering lessons in resilience.

Why “good Russians” is the wrong question entirely

Another expert at the discussion panel, Valerii Pekar — who heads an NGO focused on Russia’s decolonization — challenged the way the West often frames conversations about Russians in moral terms, such as “good” or “bad.” Instead, he proposed a strategic lens better suited to Ukraine’s wartime reality.

“We don’t primarily want Russian responsibility — we want sustainable peace,” Pekar stated.

He argued that instead of judging Russians based on their personal ethics or opinions, Ukraine should assess them based on whether their actions are helpful or unhelpful to Ukraine’s goals — specifically, achieving a sustainable peace and eventual victory over Russian aggression.

“The key issue isn’t responsibility — it’s whether Russians are imperialist or not,” he said. “From this perspective, asking who possesses Crimea isn’t enough; I also ask who possesses Kazan and Baikal [colonized territories within present-day Russia.]”

The centuries-long problem Putin didn’t create

This reframes the entire conflict. Western policymakers often frame the war as Putin’s personal project, suggesting that regime change could resolve the underlying issues. Ukrainians, in turn, increasingly view it as the latest manifestation of centuries-old Russian imperialism that will persist regardless of who leads Russia.

This historical perspective suggests that Russian imperial structures are inherently unstable and that Ukrainian strategy should focus on facilitating controlled dissolution rather than attempting to reform the system.

“What we need is not a chaotic collapse, it’s a managed collapse,” Pekar explained. “And those who help us to do this manageable, those are “good” Russians — or not Russians.”

Explore further

Do you speak Ruscism? Seven phrases that explain why Russia can’t stop invading

Ukraine’s new playbook: Presence without confrontation

Pekar’s analysis leads to specific tactical recommendations that flip conventional wisdom about Ukrainian international engagement.

First, Ukrainians must maintain presence at any platform where Russians engage with Western, Eastern, or Southern audiences. However, the purpose should not be argumentation but strategic positioning.

“We must be present at any platform where Russians are, whether good Russians or bad Russians,” he stated.

The second principle is to avoid direct confrontation:

“Don’t argue with them. We are there not to argue with them. We are there to promote our vision and to tell our narrative not from the victim position, not from the abuser position, but from the strategic position.”

Speaking Trump’s language: security over sympathy

This tactical shift becomes especially crucial with the new US administration. Trump’s “America First” approach values tangible benefits to US security, economy, or geopolitical influence over abstract moral arguments.

Pekar suggests framing discussions around concrete national security interests — defense capabilities, regional stability, strategic advantages — rather than appeals to democracy, human rights, or moral righteousness.

The logic is simple: when your audience prioritizes practical outcomes over moral positions, your messaging must adapt accordingly. Ukrainian survival depends on speaking the language your allies actually understand.

When individual courage meets imperial reality

While the problem with “good” Russians exists within a broader context of centuries-old Russian imperialism, some experts emphasize individual responsibility regardless of nationality.

Oleksandra Romantsova, CEO of the Center for Civil Liberties and 2022 Nobel Peace Prize laureate, knows this tension firsthand. She received the Nobel Prize alongside Russian activists for documenting war crimes and human rights violations throughout the invasion.

Romantsova works with thousands of human rights defenders who have Russian citizenship or connections.

“Some still hold Russian citizenship; others were forced to leave the country or change their citizenship,” she said. “These 2,000 people have been helping Ukrainians throughout all eleven years of this war.”

The 2,000 who chose differently

She acknowledged that these human rights defenders with Russian connections have helped document war crimes and assist Ukrainians since 2014, often at personal risk.

This collaboration has continued despite increasing repression within Russia, with some participants facing imprisonment for their activities.

“Some have gone to jail because they feel it’s the only way to express their political position,” she observed.

However, these 2,000 individuals represent a statistical anomaly within Russia’s 144 million citizens — people who chose to document their own government’s crimes rather than remain silent. Their work provides crucial evidence for international courts, yet their extreme rarity underscores how deeply imperial thinking has penetrated Russian society.

The accountability exam most Russians fail

Romantsova emphasized that this doesn’t translate into blanket forgiveness. When encountering Russians, Romantsova applies a systematic four-point assessment that moves beyond symbolic opposition to examine concrete actions and future commitments:

1. War Opposition and Victory Support: “Are they against the war? What’s their position on Ukrainian victory?”

2. Concrete Action Beyond Symbolism: “Are they taking real action beyond posting black squares on Instagram? Are they participating in grassroots initiatives?”

3. Post-War Financial Responsibility: “Are they prepared to be citizens who will pay taxes for reconstruction and compensation mechanisms for Ukraine?”

4. Recognition and Action on Partial Responsibility: “Do they recognize their partial responsibility and act on it?”

This framework allows Romantsova to distinguish between individuals acting autonomously and those functioning as components of the Russian state system. Her analysis helps determine whether specific Russians offer genuine alternatives to imperial policies or merely represent different tactics for achieving similar ends.

The distinction matters because many Russians who publicly oppose the war still fail her test — unwilling to support Ukrainian victory, pay for reconstruction, or acknowledge their role in enabling the system that made the war possible. They want credit for opposition without accepting responsibility for solutions.

What Ukraine’s verdict means for the Western strategy

The debate over “good Russians” reveals a fundamental split about what the war is really about and how it should end.

Western institutions keep looking for “reasonable” Russians to work with after the war. Ukrainians increasingly believe the problem goes deeper than Putin — that Russian imperial thinking will outlast any regime change.

When JPMorgan assigned Ukrainian reconstruction 2-to-1 odds of failure, the world’s largest bank wasn’t just making a prediction about Ukraine’s future – it was essentially wagering against the same Ukrainian agency that has consistently defied institutional expectations.

The timing appears particularly significant. By 2025, Ukraine’s Western integration had gained substantial momentum: industrial partnerships employing 300,000 people, €326 billion in European defense spending including Ukraine, and institutional lock-in approaching irreversibility.

When an institution managing $3.2 trillion makes such assessments, they influence insurance rates, loan guarantees, and foreign direct investment that could determine outcomes.

This isn’t theoretical. In February 2022, Western predictions of Ukrainian collapse created reluctance to provide robust support—ex-Foreign Minister Dmytro Kuleba described how German officials looked at him as if he were “doomed.” This pessimism delayed crucial early assistance, contributing to territorial losses that stronger initial support might have prevented.

JPMorgan’s economic pessimism now threatens similar delays in reconstruction funding.

A documented pattern of misjudgment

The problem is that JPMorgan’s analysis repeats the same analytical errors that made Western institutions so wrong about Ukraine in 2022.

They consistently underestimated Ukrainian resilience while overestimating Russian strategic capabilities. The fundamental mistake is treating Ukraine as a passive object of great power competition rather than an actor shaping its own destiny.

When Russia launched its full-blown invasion in 2022, analysts assumed Ukraine would behave like a typical post-Soviet state—passive, corrupt, waiting for rescue, destined to fall while Russia captures the country in weeks.

Instead, Ukraine chose to fight, mobilize civil society, and transform its institutions while under bombardment.

Explore further

“Dudes with track pants and hunting rifles”: why Ukraine became the West’s most embarrassing blind spot

Just yesterday, Ukrainian forces demonstrated this agency again with coordinated drone strikes against Russian strategic bombers deep inside Russian territory—the kind of operation analysts thought impossible three years ago.

JPMorgan’s current prediction—that Russia has a 2-to-1 chance of dragging Ukraine back into its orbit—repeats this analytical blind spot about Russian durability while overlooking Ukrainian institutional momentum that has proven remarkably resilient under extreme pressure.

The bank’s track record on major predictions raises additional concerns.

When JPMorgan CEO Jamie Dimon predicted an economic “hurricane” in 2022 that never materialized, investors who followed his advice missed significant market gains. When the bank called Bitcoin a “fraud” in 2017 before eventually offering it to clients, the consequences were financial.

Now the stakes are higher—a country fighting for its survival depends on the investment flows their assessment could influence.

JPMorgan’s four-scenario framework

The bank divides Ukraine’s future into scenarios borrowed from other countries’ experiences: “South Korea” (15%), “Israel” (20%), “Georgia” (50%), and “Belarus” (15%).

The structure reveals their pessimism—negative scenarios representing 65% probability of Russian control versus just 35% for successful Western integration.

Their highest-probability Georgia scenario—reverting into the Kremlin’s orbit— draws on sophisticated analysis of institutional anchoring.

The economic mechanism they identify creates particular concern.

“Risk-averse investors could choose to avoid an unstable, security-fragile environment, limiting foreign direct investment.” High insurance costs and risk premiums could undermine competitiveness, while Ukraine might “re-open vulnerable trade corridors or informal dependencies linked to Russia.”

Their Belarus scenario (15% probability) demonstrates the extreme outcome—complete vassalization where Russia achieves its maximalist demands. The key insight connecting both scenarios: even strong pro-Western sentiment can fade “if not adequately reciprocated by Western institutions.”

Why Ukraine’s trajectory differs fundamentally

JPMorgan’s structural analysis has merit, but applying Georgia’s trajectory to Ukraine overlooks critical differences that make historical analogies misleading guides for political forecasting.

Consider the vulnerabilities that enabled Georgia’s drift:

• Economic dependence: Over 15% of GDP from Russian remittances by 2022-2023
• Limited scale: 3.7 million people, $30.5 billion GDP—manageable for sustained influence operations
• Oligarch capture: Bidzina Ivanishvili’s wealth enabled systematic institutional control
• Civil society erosion: Despite initial protests, “foreign agent” laws were ultimately implemented

Georgia’s Euromaidan moment

“Not another Russian colony”: Georgia erupts against Moscow’s shadow rule

Ukraine presents fundamentally different structural characteristics:

• Proven mobilization capacity at scale: Ukraine has sustained one million personnel under arms while maintaining government functionality under direct assault—institutional resilience tested at scales Georgia never faced.
• Economic decoupling track record: Unlike Georgia’s increasing Russian economic dependence, Ukraine systematically reduced Russian ties after 2014, creating fundamentally different vulnerability patterns.
• Civil society effectiveness: Belarus demonstrates complete Russian capture when civil society cannot mount sustained resistance. Georgia shows how gradual erosion can succeed despite protests—thousands demonstrated against “foreign agent” laws but ultimately failed to prevent implementation. Ukraine’s trajectory differs markedly: Euromaidan demonstrated not just mobilization capacity, but successful resistance that twice prevented governments from drifting toward Russian influence.

The critical difference: Ukraine has already withstood pressures that gradually captured Georgia and completely overwhelmed Belarus, but at much higher intensity and longer duration.

However, JPMorgan’s framework assumes Ukraine will eventually succumb to pressures it has already proven capable of resisting at levels that destroyed institutional resistance elsewhere in the post-Soviet space.

Institutional integration approaching irreversibility

JPMorgan’s scenarios assume current Western support could gradually fade, but examining actual commitments reveals integration approaching irreversibility. This isn’t potential future support being debated—it’s operational infrastructure already employing hundreds of thousands.

• Financial infrastructure creating permanent dependencies: The EU has delivered $158 billion with $54 billion more locked through 2027 for EU accession. $300 billion in frozen Russian assets generate ongoing funding streams—the first €1.5 billion tranche already disbursed with decades of payments planned.
• Industrial integration beyond reversal: Rheinmetall, KNDS, and Nammo have established production facilities in Ukraine. Approximately 500 arms producers now employ nearly 300,000 people. Every Western weapons system creates long-term dependency relationships through spare parts, training, and maintenance contracts.
• Growing military integration: Among Ukraine’s military deliveries from Western partners are 84 Multiple Launch Rocket Systems, 740 howitzers, 78 air defense systems, 939 tanks, and 1,271 armored personnel carriers. This hardware creates permanent dependency chains that lock in decades of partnership. Ukraine’s arms industry achieved 69% revenue growth to $2.2 billion in 2023—the fastest increase ever recorded.
• Security architecture: Twenty-nine Allies and partners have signed bilateral security agreements with Ukraine. The NATO-Ukraine Joint Analysis, Training and Education Centre has officially opened—an institutional integration that Georgia never achieved.

JPMorgan’s concern about Western fatigue deserves serious consideration—democratic societies do struggle with sustained commitments. But their model may underestimate how current integration creates constituencies for continued support.

Each arms factory employing local workers creates lobbying pressure for sustained partnerships. Each EU legal framework integrated into Ukrainian governance creates bureaucratic momentum. Each training program for Ukrainian personnel creates institutional relationships that transcend political cycles.

By 2008, Georgia had bilateral relationships; by 2025, Ukraine has multilateral institutional embedding that would require deliberate dismantling by dozens of countries simultaneously.

The replacement economy in action

JPMorgan assumes Russian economic pressure will eventually overcome Ukrainian resistance, but examining the underlying economic dynamics reveals a different trajectory emerging.

• Western economic integration with Ukraine is accelerating: According to SIPRI data, European defense spending increased 30% since 2021 to €326 billion—and this rearmament benefits Ukraine through weapons transfers and industrial partnerships, rather than excluding it from Europe’s defense ecosystem. Meanwhile, each round of sanctions against Russia creates permanent market displacement as Western competitors develop their own supply chains and lobbying influence, making reversal increasingly difficult.
• Russian economic sustainability appears increasingly strained: Russia’s military expenditure reached $149 billion in 2024—7.1% of GDP, the highest since the Cold War. This massive military spending comes at the expense of domestic priorities: just 0.87% of GDP goes to healthcare and 0.7% to education. Russia has forced banks to fund half its war costs, requiring businesses to borrow at punitive 21% interest rates that threaten long-term economic viability.
• The contrast in sustainability models is striking: While Ukraine allocates an even higher 34% of GDP to defense, it does so with massive external support that strengthens rather than weakens its economy. Russia burns through domestic resources alone, creating an unsustainable trajectory that favors Ukraine’s strategy of externally supported resistance over Russia’s self-funded pressure campaign.

What we’re witnessing is a managed demolition of Russian imperial pretensions with Ukraine as both the primary instrument and beneficiary. Every sector where Russia has been sanctioned gets permanently replaced by Western competitors who develop their own lobbying power and political influence.

Explore further

Russia forced banks to secretly fund half its war costs. Can its economy survive? What does this mean for Ukraine?

Why JPMorgan’s answer may be wrong

JPMorgan deserves credit for identifying a vulnerability that Western analysts often miss: states without firm institutional anchors can drift despite strong popular sentiment. Their insight about the relationship between security guarantees and economic confidence is particularly valuable.

The Georgia analogy captures an important dynamic—how gradual erosion can succeed where direct pressure fails. Their concern about Western fatigue over 5-10 years reflects a genuine understanding of how democratic attention spans work.

Where we disagree is not on the importance of institutional anchoring, but on whether Ukraine has already achieved sufficient integration to make drift unlikely.

Rather than whether Ukraine will drift into Russia’s orbit, the evidence suggests a different dynamic: Russia is the one under unsustainable pressure.

According to the fiscal data, Russia is burning through domestic resources at unprecedented rates while Ukraine builds permanent institutional ties with the West.

Each year of continued conflict accelerates Russia’s technological lag, demographic decline, and economic isolation while strengthening Ukraine’s Western integration.

Ukraine’s strategic orientation isn’t a future possibility being debated in scenario exercises—it’s an accomplished fact being implemented through billions in industrial infrastructure, EU legal frameworks integral to state functioning, and defense partnerships providing both security and economic opportunity.

Explore further

Putin must end Ukraine war by 2025 or face economic collapse, warns ex-energy chief

The real risk

The real risk is that JPMorgan’s assessment becomes reality through specific market mechanisms. Research shows that major financial institutions’ risk assessments create spillover effects on borrowing costs and investment decisions.

When the world’s largest bank assigns Ukrainian reconstruction coin-flip odds of success, that assessment influences concrete decisions: Lloyd’s of London adjusting insurance premiums for Ukrainian operations, development banks requiring higher risk assessments for reconstruction loans, and private equity firms avoiding Ukrainian partnerships despite profitable opportunities.

Financial institutions that bet against Ukrainian agency do so at their own peril. The institutional momentum is already substantial, the Russian pressure increasingly unsustainable. JPMorgan may find they’ve wagered $3.2 trillion in credibility against the same resilience that has already defied their expectations for three years.

The question isn’t whether Ukraine will follow Georgia’s path—it’s whether JPMorgan will recognize their analytical blind spot before their assessment becomes a self-defeating prophecy.

Last year, Ukrainian military intelligence did what sounds like science fiction: they fed thousands of images of Russian jets into artificial intelligence systems, training machines to hunt and dive-bomb strategic bombers meant to launch nuclear annihilation.

On 1 June, those AI-trained killing machines proved they learned their lessons perfectly.

Ukrainian forces loaded homegrown drones into ordinary trucks, smuggled them deep into Russia’s rear, and unleashed mechanical predators that struck four airbases from the Arctic to Siberia — wiping out a $7 billion of Russia’s elite air force in a single day.

With 41 aircraft reduced to wreckage — the largest single-day funeral for Russian aircraft since WWII — Putin’s elite “red lines” air threat that kept the West cowering for years would take decades to restore — if sanctions ever allow it.

Behind this massacre lies Ukraine’s domestic drone empire that has exploded from desperate start-ups into a $2.8 billion war machine in just three years — and it just launched the AI arms race that will haunt every future battlefield.

From garage tinkering to 4.5 million killer drones

The devastating attack, dubbed the operation “Spiderweb,” resulted from three years of rapid drone evolution — a transformation that turned Ukraine’s drone warfare from a desperate improvisation to a high‑volume, precision‑strike ecosystem Russia often struggles to match.

In the early days of full-scale war, Ukraine’s defense ministry purchased thousands of drones, still relying heavily on ad hoc production, crowdfunding, and volunteer ingenuity. Yet, it took just two years to leap from garage builds to global leadership, pioneering drone technology.

By 2024, the government had scaled up procurement to over 1.5 million drones, with 96% of contracts awarded to domestic manufacturers. In 2025, Ukraine tripled its investment, allocating more than $2.6 billion – one-fifth of Ukraine’s total defense procurement – toward drones, including plans to deliver 4.5 million FPV models to the battlefield.

With factories now producing millions of drones and some operators flying up to 15 missions a day, Ukraine’s domestic drone industry has evolved from battlefield improvisation to full-scale industrialization — delivering lethal, low-cost systems at speed, with growing flexibility and automation.

Explore further

No aid? No problem. Ukraine’s engineers hit Russia 7,000 times with homegrown tech

These drones have become central to Ukraine’s battlefield strategy — pinpointing, punishing, and relentlessly pushing back Russian forces. As The New York Times put it, “It feels as if there are a thousand snipers in the sky.” Still, Ukraine’s technological edge is under pressure, with questions mounting over how long it can maintain dominance.

In contrast, Russian troops are often starved for drones, with some battalions receiving just 10 to 15 FPV (First-person view) drones per week.

“We know where they are flying from, but there is nothing to kill with,” lamented one Russian operator.

Regulatory bottlenecks have made matters worse. “Heavy drones now require state approval,” wrote a Russian blogger, noting that units have begun constructing their own drones to fill the gap left by a struggling domestic industry, increasingly strained by the relentless race to modernize.

The bomb witch that haunts Russians armed with sticks

While Russia faces production setbacks, Ukraine is pushing forward with increasingly advanced systems. Among the most distinctive innovations is the “Baba Yaga” — a heavy multirotor drone named after the mythical Slavic witch.

Unlike smaller FPV drones, the Baba Yaga can carry 45-pound payloads like aerial bombs, mortar shells, anti-tank mines, and even guided bombs, making it ideal for hitting bunkers and supply depots. In response, Russian troops have resorted to crude countermeasures — attaching long sticks to knock Ukraine’s bulky bombers out of the sky.

However, Baba Yaga is just one part of Ukraine’s evolving drone arsenal. While new platforms continue to emerge, older systems are also being upgraded to stay deadly. Mavic drones, for instance, pioneered light bombing tactics early in the war, serving as surprisingly lethal anti-personnel systems despite their commercial origins

Since then, FPVs have taken over the role, offering greater payload capacity and flexibility. Some FPV drones now carry up to six VOG grenades – compared to the two typically deployed by Mavics – allowing for more impactful strikes with greater reach and frequency.

This drive for greater range, precision, and coordination has led to Ukraine’s next leap in drone warfare.

Putin’s next nightmare: Ukraine’s mothership drones

Among Ukraine’s latest innovations is mothership drones — large UAVs capable of carrying and launching multiple FPV drones mid-flight. Designed for long-range missions, these platforms allow Ukrainian forces to strike deep behind enemy lines, overwhelming Russian defenses with coordinated, multi-drone assaults.

FPV drones have become Ukraine’s key interceptors, targeting Russian reconnaissance drones, while Russian units use theirs to hunt down Ukraine’s Baba Yagas.

“FPV drones are about tactical dominance. They bring chaos, fear, and uncertainty to close combat,” a Russian commentator wrote. “They are cheap, massive and deadly effective – and their potential grows with each passing day…These are no longer makeshift weapons, but new close-combat artillery.”

And in Ukrainian hands, they’ve become a relentless force — now fired more often than many large-caliber artillery shells.

Explore further

How Ukraine can win, p.1. Swarms of dirt-cheap drones decimate Putin’s armor

AI drones vs. motorcycle cavalry: how Ukraine forces Russia into WWI desperation

Much of Ukraine’s drone warfare success comes from specialized units. The Birds of Magyar, one of the country’s most prolific teams, carried out over 11,600 sorties in March 2025 alone — striking more than 5,300 targets, or one every eight minutes.

The majority of these hits came from FPV drones (67%) and heavy bombers (31%). While FPV strike footage tends to dominate social media, it’s the less flashy “Baba Yaga” night bombers that may be doing most of the actual damage on the ground.

These UAVs specialize in destroying infrastructure and personnel shelters, not just enemy armor. In March alone, they carried out 1,701 strikes on Russian infantry, with 1,002 confirmed kills and dozens of bunker-busting missions. By April, Ukrainian drone brigades reported hitting 83,000 targets — a 5% increase in just one month.

Russian milblogger “Vault 8” noted that Ukrainian FPV and reconnaissance drones now dominate up to 25 kilometers behind the front line — making road travel perilous and turning rear areas into a “highway of death,” where even vehicles far from combat zones are frequently destroyed. Both sides are being forced to adapt to this new reality — and the consequences are already visible on the battlefield.

Now, Ukraine is using these drones to construct a “drone wall” along the front line — extending the no-man’s land by dozens of kilometers and deterring Russian advances through constant aerial threat.

With FPV drones now functioning as the new artillery of modern warfare, mobility has become critical. For months, Russian forces have used motorcycles to lead high-risk assaults, a tactic born out of necessity due to mounting losses of armored vehicles to Ukrainian drones. In response, Ukraine’s 425th Skala Assault Regiment has established its own motorcycle assault company — aiming to match speed with survivability on a battlefield shaped by drones.

Explore further

Ukraine’s WWI-style drone hunter worked so well that Russia had to steal the idea

Ukraine’s drones deliver ammo — and dead Russians every 6.5 minutes

Beyond direct strikes, the unit also lays mines, conducts aerial reconnaissance, and has carried out over 10,000 missions to date — including tests of jamming-resistant drones. As national production ramps up to 200,000 drones a month, the Birds of Magyar have seen their kill rate skyrocket: from fewer than 300 confirmed targets a year ago to over 5,000 today, eliminating one Russian soldier every 6.5 minutes.

Even Ukraine’s logistics have taken to the skies. Vampire drones are now being used to deliver food and ammunition to frontline units, flying at low altitudes to evade detection. Smaller FPV drones, typically 10 to 15 inches in size, are also employed — their crews far more mobile and adaptable.

While larger bombers must release payloads from higher altitudes to avoid small arms fire, FPVs can dive straight into targets as small as a single meter across, offering unmatched precision.

“FPVs are more effective against pinpoint targets, where the scale of damage doesn’t matter, but accuracy does,” says Danylo, a drone pilot from the 108th Separate Territorial Defense Brigade.

FPVs hunt by day, bombers mine by night

However, larger drones like the Vampire come with trade-offs. They require vehicle transport, limiting mobility, and must either launch close to the front — risking exposure — or fly long distances, increasing the chance of detection.

“At long range, it’s very visible in thermal cameras and can be intercepted, even shot down by another FPV, before it even crosses the line of contact,” says Oleksii, a drone unit commander from the same brigade.

Even Russian volunteers admit it: Ukraine’s heavy Vampire drones — built to hunt down artillery crews, tanks, and command posts — are giving Kyiv a strategic edge, thanks to their disciplined rollout and battlefield precision. And the arms race isn’t slowing down. Ukraine recently logged its first confirmed kill with a drone-mounted grenade launcher, pushing the boundaries of what flying machines can do in combat.

“Ukrainian ‘Vampire’ type heavy drones have a complementary role to FPVs,” explained Roy Gardiner, an open source weapons researcher and former Canadian officer. “While FPVs attack Russian logistics vehicles during the day, heavy drones attack the same vehicles at night by precision mining Russian roads.”

In some cases, however, FPVs outperform larger drones. Russian vehicles often stay far from the frontline — beyond the effective range of many Vampires, but still within reach of nimble FPVs. FPVs also handle Russian jamming more effectively, thanks to their ability to switch control frequencies mid-flight — an edge bulkier drones lack.

“FPVs, even with an effectiveness rate of 30–40%, cause more damage than the Vampire,” said Andrii of the 59th Brigade.

Ukraine teaches NATO to hunt Russia’s Frankenstein drones

Russia, meanwhile, is still playing catch-up — with no counterpart to the Baba Yaga and a drone fleet that trails badly in both design and deployment.

“Ukraine invested in its fleet of larger, long-range drones as a response to Russia’s investment in Shahed/Geran drones,” observed Samuel Bendett, an adjunct senior fellow at the Center for a New American Security.

He adds that Russia seems content with the performance of its Geran drones, having produced them by the thousands and prioritized their low cost and mass deployment — although points out that these systems serve a different purpose.

Gardiner notes that Moscow has talked up its plans for a homegrown drone industry, yet it failed to deliver.

“There have been indications that Russian drone units have been forbidden to make direct purchases without permission from above,” he adds.

In the meantime, Russian units have resorted to bizarre improvisations, including the “Vobla,” a jerry-rigged drone with four quadcopters connected to a single flight controller.

Ukraine’s latest export: combat expertise the Pentagon wants to buy

While Russia leans on improvised workarounds, Ukraine’s drone innovation is drawing international attention, with Kyiv marketing itself as Europe’s future defense hub.

According to Branislav Slantchev, a political science professor at UC San Diego, Ukrainian specialists are now training NATO personnel in Poland and the UK. They have even consulted the Pentagon on how to use American weapons more effectively in combat — a testament to how far Ukraine’s defense innovation has advanced.

“Ukraine’s defense industry will be massive as well. It was a critical hub in Soviet production and will now be part of Europe’s,” he says.

In this dynamics, Ukraine’s growing defense industry is part of a larger shift — one that positions the country not just as a supplier, but as a cornerstone of Europe’s security architecture.

“Europe needs Ukraine as a shield. We have the biggest army on the continent. We are the only ones with an army that knows how to contain Russia.” Valerii Zaluzhnyi, Ukraine’s former commander-in-chief, said. “The only one with an army that knows how to wage modern, high-tech warfare.”

The 1,000-drone barrage that could tip the war

However, Ukraine’s technological edge won’t last unchallenged. Russia is rapidly catching up — and in some areas, pulling ahead, such as with fiber optic drones.

Russian strike drones are now reaching deep into Ukraine’s rear — including the Kramatorsk–Dobropillia highway, a key supply route located more than 30 kilometers (about 19 miles) behind the front line. These attacks are being carried out with fixed-wing “Molniya” drones and the smaller “Tyuvik,” a modified version of the Iranian-made Shahed drone.

A Russian kamikaze drone was also reportedly using AI and machine learning to enhance targeting, scanning highways for military vehicles, and recently adapting to evade interceptor drones.

Amid these developments, some Ukrainian experts are sounding the alarm. Maria Berlinska, head of the Air Intelligence Support Center, warned that Russia may soon be capable of launching over 1,000 Shahed-type strike drones per day.

“By the end of May 2025, we are starting to fall further and further behind in the technological race,” she says. “In a number of areas, parity still exists, but in general, the Russians are increasingly ahead.”

She attributs this shift to something more structural than battlefield improvisation.

“We lasted for more than three years. But these solutions are increasingly being surpassed by systemic, monumental scientific projects from joint Russian-Iranian-Chinese engineering teams,” Berlinska says.

These warnings underscore a growing anxiety within Ukraine’s defense tech community: the innovation gap is narrowing. Oleksandr Yakovenko, who leads one of Ukraine’s leading drone companies, warned that while Ukraine previously was two steps ahead of the Russians, now they’re only “one step ahead of them.”

That concern extends far beyond the present battlefield. Tatarigami, a former Ukrainian officer and open-source intelligence analyst, warned that unless Russia suffers a major defeat or economic collapse, it could use the coming years to build and stockpile equipment.

“If Russia spends several years building and stockpiling equipment while leveraging Chinese industry and Western parts, its future military will be more modern and technologically advanced than during the 2022 invasion,” he wrote.

Global press freedom is at its lowest since 2002, says Reporters Without Borders. Independent media face pressure worldwide—from authoritarian regimes, economic collapse, and disinformation networks, including Russia’s unchecked propaganda.

At the 2025 Lviv Media Forum, held from 15 to 17 May, Pulitzer-winning journalist Anne Applebaum and disinformation researcher Dorka Takácsy warned that democracy is breaking down not just from censorship, but from the erosion of truth itself. Applebaum described how Trump’s second presidency has filled government with figures hostile to US institutions. Takácsy pointed to Hungary, where Viktor Orbán has silenced independent media through loyalist networks, political purges, and narratives amplified by the Kremlin.

Moderating the panel, Ukrainian media strategist Yevhen Hlibovytskyi added a wartime perspective: Can a country like Ukraine uphold media freedom when public trust falters and international support fades?

Yet a deeper issue cuts across all borders: traditional media is losing the public. While outlets like CNN bleed viewers, independent podcasters and investigators are gaining ground among audiences who see them as more authentic and less compromised. The problem isn’t just propaganda—it’s that people no longer believe the press.

What you’ll learn from this panel:

• How Trump and Orbán are reshaping democracy through revenge, control of institutions, and propaganda
• Why traditional media is losing trust — and what journalists must do to rebuild it
• How rational debate is collapsing under spiritual populism and anti-science politics
• What lessons Ukraine and the EU can draw from Hungary’s media downfall.

Hungary’s media crackdown: How Orbán dismantled independent journalism

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: When there is an enemy narrative that the government projects onto someone and creates a scapegoat—which, for instance, is currently Ukraine—propaganda messages spread very easily because there is the enormous empire that operates through coordinated messaging.

Dorka Takácsy: We are incredibly impactful. Of course, there are also independent outlets that are doing really great work. They are heroic, under-financed, and struggling, as has happened in other places as well. But obviously, they cannot serve as a counterweight to a large propaganda empire that works with coordinated messages.

Once the foundation of the discourse is established, the public broadcasters will also fall in line. Just imagine if the BBC’s leaders were, one way or another, simply dismissed, and if they happened to be replaced and restructured by the government—it would be quite a scandal, right?

At the moment, if you are a public broadcaster and you go down almost to the regional level, people were replaced. People were dismissed. And it was all very calculated to meet the needs and desires of the government. So there is this entire network of 480 outlets: public broadcasters, radio stations, and all of this. Also, the loyalist media. So altogether, the whole media environment has changed drastically.

Trump’s second term: A government driven by revenge

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: We’re talking about revenge. The Orbán (Hungarian Prime Minister) who returned was not the same Orbán as before. I think one of the themes of the US elections was that we had Trump as the 45th president of the United States, and it was not that damaging. But now, the Trump administration, as the 47th president, is actually quite different in how it approaches policy and in what it does.

Is revenge something that we should be looking at? Is this an indicator that we should all pay attention to from the perspective of the media or think tanks? Is this a factor?

Anne Applebaum: Leaders who lose power and return often have transformed agendas—look at Orbán, Trump, and Hugo Chávez, who staged a coup, was imprisoned, then came back. Trump’s second presidency was always going to be different after his assault on the Capitol and his election denial, though many Americans underestimated this shift.

Trump’s appeal centers on revenge and resentment—targeting elites, the wealthy, or whoever people blame for their problems. This pattern appears throughout history: 1990s Venezuela, 1930s Germany, the Dreyfus Affair. Politicians who build on anger at chosen elites often succeed.

Inside Trump’s new coalition: Tech elites and Christian nationalists

Anne Applebaum: The key difference is Trump’s coalition. His first term featured relatively mainstream officials from government, military, and business who wanted to improve existing systems. Over four years, he’s attracted fundamentally different people who want to overthrow or radically transform American institutions entirely.

This isn’t traditional conservatism. It includes Silicon Valley tech authoritarians wanting America run like a corporation, Christian nationalists seeking religious rule over secular government, and those wanting to reverse social changes since the 1960s. Trump has elevated long-marginalized figures—vaccine opponents and others outside mainstream professions.

The result is an administration where officials actively dislike the very institutions they now lead—the CIA, healthcare system, and others. You’re witnessing the state being attacked from within. This surprises many, but anyone watching closely over the past four years should have seen it coming.

What journalists must do now: Truth-telling and trust-building

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: As a former newspaper editor, I’m asking myself: what do I need to make visible for my audience? Should I focus more on theories of change? On resentment? On revenge? On what comes next if basic services like water purification fail?

Anne Applebaum: The main difficulty in journalism now—even at prosperous magazines with many journalists—is that we can’t cover everything. We know about stories we don’t have time or capacity for.

The main challenge is knowing what to prioritize. You could write about vaccines and healthcare, kleptocracy and corruption, foreign policy, or civil rights.

The main job of journalists is, first, to investigate and establish what actually happened, as opposed to what propagandists claim. Second, to build trust with readers. You’re obligated to build a community—through social media, reader clubs, or public events—of people who want to understand what you’re saying.

It’s not enough just to write; you need to actively create trust, because we’re in a moment when the President lies daily on TV. He says gas prices went down when they went up. He claims to have achieved peace between India and Pakistan when the Indian government says he had nothing to do with it.

This constant lying means there needs to be a daily attempt to write truthfully and create bonds of trust with people willing to listen. It’s a very difficult job.

Why journalists failed to spot authoritarian shifts

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: What this means is that the job description for editors and journalists has become more sophisticated, because you don’t only have to follow the standards and procedures of journalism, but you also have to have expertise in what you’re writing about. You have to see the underwater currents. Is this what the Hungarian media missed?

Dorka Takácsy: If I think back to all the steps that were taken, obviously there were major milestones—the creation of the Media Council and all these things I mentioned were major milestones on this sad trajectory.

But there were also smaller steps that I think we don’t recognize in time. Probably because, just like we see now on the bigger stage worldwide, too many things happen and there aren’t enough journalists. The sector is already underfunded, everyone is overwhelmed, and you can understand that because we are all human.

For such a sector, it’s very difficult to see all the complexity of certain things. But there are definitely external factors too, because in other cases the problems were already visible—not as bad as now, but present. When the problems were big enough, many were reflected in different EU organs and institutions. And the EU was often simply too slow, and when there was political will from the outside, you could flag whatever you wanted, but certain steps were also missed.

Now looking back, it all comes together. Obviously it’s easier now to see the whole trajectory we underwent. But when it was happening, I think we missed it.

From science to suspicion: The fall of rational thinking

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: Does that mean we’re seeing a kind of religious combat where people don’t understand or apply rational thinking, but just apply what they believe in? This isn’t necessarily about God—it’s about vaccines and whatever. So is this a challenge to rationalism as an approach that was predominant in educational systems, governance, and institutions in the developed world over the 20th and 21st centuries?

Anne Applebaum: Yes. What we’re seeing, not just in the US but in many places, is a challenge to Enlightenment thinking—that there’s a difference between things that are true and not true, that there’s a scientific method that can determine truth, that there are trusted institutions like scientific journals, journalism, and government agencies that can be trusted to at least try to find truth in good faith.

Instead, we find people completely rejecting those things under the banner of “do your own research.” I wrote about this regarding the Romanian election and the candidate Călin Georgescu, who won the first round before the election was banned.

Spiritual politics and anti-science: Leaders who reject facts

Anne Applebaum: Georgescu described himself as a spiritual person anointed by God with special powers. He filmed himself swimming in a lake—it was very cold and snowing outside—saying his belief in God kept him from becoming ill. He also rejected vaccines.

His appeal was anti-rational, not just anti-institutional—anti-science. Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who is now Secretary of Health and Human Services overseeing the CDC, has a very similar anti-rational appeal.

Interestingly, both RFK and Georgescu have expressed pro-Russian and pro-Putin feelings. Georgescu has been openly pro-Russian regarding Ukraine and supportive of Putin. We know he was supported illegally by a social media campaign. I won’t make the same claim about RFK, although—who knows.

There’s a clear, concerted attempt to win over people who no longer trust scientific thinking. There’s a link between that and authoritarian thinking. These things are somewhat vague—I don’t want to draw clear lines—but they are connected.

No truth, no democracy: Why shared facts matter

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: If you’re talking about the end of the Enlightenment, if we could say so, that means if you’re talking about the lack of efficiency that such an approach would have, then it’s only natural for autocrats to limit competition and preserve themselves with whatever inefficient policies they’re offering. Because otherwise, they would be swept away at the next elections.

Anne Applebaum: The problem is even deeper than that. Democracy itself, especially American democracy, is a kind of Enlightenment project. The idea of democracy is that we created this system with rules, and the rules allow us to have debates about reality. Through those debates, we decide what government policy should be.

So democracy requires some agreed-upon reality. You can have your right-wing or left-wing opinion, you can believe there should be more highways or fewer highways. But you have to agree on the number of highways. You have to have some way of counting them. Once you don’t agree, once there’s no shared reality, then you can’t really have a democratic debate.

The myth of the strongman: Why authoritarians thrive on emotion

Anne Applebaum: The system doesn’t work, and autocracy appeals instead to this deeply irrational idea: “we need a leader who somehow embodies the will of the people”—not through reasoned debate or voting, but because he has emerged from the people and expresses their will.

Trotsky, Lenin, and Stalin used to talk like this. This idea doesn’t belong to the right—Hitler spoke like this, too. The idea that the autocrat has some magical link and makes good decisions just because he somehow represents us—this is anti-Enlightenment, anti-rational, and anti-democratic.

Democracy needs this basis in the real world, or it doesn’t work. If you want to get to the deepest layer, the deepest problem we have today, I think that’s it.

How EU funds helped Orbán hide Hungary’s democratic collapse

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: My question is about the experience of a country that is in Central Europe, that has been part of the European cultural discourse all along. Was there a lack of sense of urgency?

Dorka Takácsy: Yes.

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: That, you know, “we are a member of the European Union, nothing bad is going to happen to us because we will be protected one way or another through the instruments of the European Union or NATO or whatever.” Was there a lack of understanding that the house may be on fire?

Dorka Takácsy: Despite anti-Western propaganda, polls show most Hungarians still view the EU positively. But their reasons are purely practical—they can work abroad, cross borders easily, and sometimes receive EU funds. It’s not about values, freedom, or European identity—just pragmatism.

These positive numbers don’t mean Hungarians maintain a European mentality. It’s simply practical appreciation.

When EU cash stops, propaganda fills the gap

Dorka Takácsy: Hungary clearly shows how autocrats mask bad policies through external support. For years, Hungary prospered largely from EU accession and cohesion funds. Even with poor government policies, results seemed favorable because EU money created an impression of success. People tolerated media manipulation and propaganda because they felt economically secure.

That magic is now broken. The EU has frozen most funds for two years, exposing the true quality of Hungarian policies. Economic and social policies were always poor, but their impact wasn’t felt while EU money flowed. Now the impact is obvious.

When budgets are healthy, autocrats can buy votes with direct payments. That’s no longer viable. So the propaganda machine intensifies—amplifying narratives and pouring extra resources into messaging. When you can’t pay for votes, you must amplify the propaganda. That’s exactly what we’re seeing now.

Why US opposition to Trump remains muffled

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: What I can’t understand from the outside is this disconnect: I read excellent articles in The Atlantic and New York Times opinion pages, but I don’t see real urgency in the opposition. There’s no visible concern even within the Republican Party itself. It’s just “Okay, this is happening, we don’t like it”—but no sense of emergency.

Is this hidden from view due to media optics, or does the American system simply work differently than we expect?

Anne Applebaum: There are two key points. First, this isn’t a parliamentary system—there’s no single leader of the opposition and won’t be. Asking “who’s the leader?” reflects an authoritarian mindset. There will eventually be another presidential candidate, but until then, no single leader. That’s not how our system works.

Fear and intimidation: Why GOP critics backed down

Many people are involved—Congress members, senators, local officials, media figures, podcasters. Alarming content exists constantly. If you’re on the right Instagram algorithm, you’ll see it; if not, you might miss it. There’s significant activity happening. You’d need to follow specific people to see more. Nationwide protests have occurred, with groups planning regular ones.

Second, people are angry at Democrats for not stopping Trump, but they lack the tools. Without control of Congress, there’s no way to prevent executive actions. They can’t physically stop what’s happening.

Much of what Trump has done is illegal. Cases are moving through courts now, and I expect courts will begin blocking actions. Then we’ll see an interesting moment—will the Trump administration try to overrun the courts? We’ll find out.

Within the Republican Party, there’s a strange dynamic. Some opposition exists, with many uncomfortable Republicans. But something not understood from outside—many Republican politicians are physically scared. They worry that voting against the president means facing physical attacks at home or their children being harassed at school. This is new in American politics over the last four years.

With widespread firearms, people are genuinely frightened. Many Republicans left Congress for this reason. Most who voted for Trump’s impeachment are gone—either forced out like Liz Cheney or they quietly departed.

How polarized media killed neutral journalism

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: Is CNN being the preferred Democratic voice and Fox News being the preferred Republican voice? Is this the end of independence? Are we going into pluralism as an alternative, or is editorial independence still a value that is still being pursued or should be pursued?

Anne Applebaum: First, CNN isn’t the voice of the Democratic Party at all. CNN has tried to do something different, which isn’t quite working. But CNN, Fox, and MSNBC—ten years ago, all these networks had more editorial independence than now.

They used more neutral tones and presented discussions more neutrally, but that was also because we lived in a less polarized moment when people were less angry.

The business of bias: Why neutral news can’t survive

Anne Applebaum: The business model now for much of media is appealing to your base. You make money by building a base and appealing to one partisan segment of the population. The neutrality business model, designed to appeal broadly, has mostly failed.

When I started in journalism, The Washington Post was essentially the only newspaper in Washington. The Post had an interest in appealing to a wide readership—it wanted Republicans and Democrats to read it, and local businesses to advertise. It was like a monopoly—someone described it to me as a public utility, like the gas company.

That’s not true anymore. There’s no business model where you win over a broad swath of people with neutral commentary. You’ve had this siloing of newspapers and TV. No, it’s not good. Some things were gained—the neutrality sometimes concealed laziness or refusal to be clear. There were things lost in that earlier period we don’t miss.

But the partisan role has been dictated by the business environment.

Can public broadcasting save democracy?

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: One unconventional thing we have in Ukraine is a strong public broadcaster (Suspilne). Is a public broadcaster a potential source of stabilization for the entire media market? Is it important to have an independent public broadcaster for private media to thrive and be less dependent on niche, ideological platforms?

Anne Applebaum: If you can have it—and as Hungary proves, it’s very easy to undermine an independent public broadcaster if you don’t have good laws—but if you can have it and it’s able to build wide trust, something like the BBC (though even the BBC has lost trust in recent years), then it is one of the things that can keep politics centered.

Even the fact that the BBC—it’s a little bit fake, but during election campaigns they insist every political program has a member of each party on a panel—is really useful. You don’t have that on Fox News. Having somebody legally obliged to at least try to be neutral can be extremely important.

Of course, we don’t have this in the United States at all. We have a sort of public broadcaster, but it’s very niche and not even fully government funded.

Dorka Takácsy: Yes, it’s absolutely vital, because otherwise look at what happens if you don’t have a real public broadcaster. It’s not the only source of problems in Hungary, but it’s clearly an indicator that something is wrong.

Unfortunately, we live in an era where polarization is extremely important. This creates a vicious circle because media outlets need to survive, and it’s easier to appeal to emotions. The center is slowly becoming more radical on both sides, and this kind of news further increases polarization.

If you can have a public broadcaster that can afford not to go for emotions—to be dry and professional, though probably less interesting than outlets that live purely from the market—then you have to preserve it, because there’s chaos all around.

Ukraine’s future: Build democracy for yourself, not the EU

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: We’ve been discovering how bad the situation is in our neighboring areas, and there might or might not be a light at the end of the tunnel. But considering that Ukraine is still trying to Euro-integrate, and seeing the dissolution of institutions in the US and many European countries… Are we screwed?

Anne Applebaum: No, no. I think the answer is that you should democratize Ukraine and build institutions there not to get into the EU or to someday be accepted into NATO. You should do it because it’s good for Ukraine.

Following the lead of other countries or seeking to appeal to them—you’re not going to appeal to them. That’s a fool’s game. There’s no point to it.

Will Europe stand by Ukraine? Why support still matters

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: Without an international network of support—considering that we are at war, the challenges we have, the pain inside Ukrainian society—we’re actually at risk of not having sustainable democracy. Not because we cannot sustain it as a society, but because we cannot sustain it as a society in these circumstances. How reliably should we expect external support for the cause of democracy and freedom in Ukraine?

Anne Applebaum: I can’t tell you what will happen in the distant future. Current European leaders strongly support Ukraine. There’s a fantastic photograph of your president, President Macron, the German chancellor, and the Polish prime minister all standing in a row, talking and looking happy and friendly. I think that was real.

Among that group, there’s a commitment to Ukraine—to Ukraine’s sovereignty and democracy. Germany has exceeded spending limits to buy weapons—unprecedented for them. You have genuine friends in Europe, plus supporters in the US Congress, public, and business community. Don’t count the US out yet.

Dorka Takácsy: I’m not pessimistic. Ukraine has shown tremendous strength, and we can see clear examples of what to avoid. The support is there, especially with current EU leadership.

They see the bad examples too. Take Hungary—I can say with confidence that the EU is slowly but surely finding its way. Yes, many problems should have been solved earlier, and they don’t always see future consequences in time. But now we clearly see that at many levels, the EU has started recognizing the problems and is growing stronger.

This is encouraging for Ukraine. We can really benefit from this strengthening.

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: Well, part of adult life is knowing that not all questions will be answered.

The United Kingdom has labeled Russia as an "immediate and pressing" threat in a major strategic defense review set to be published Monday, the Guardian reported on May 31

The 130-page review, prepared by a panel of senior advisers including former NATO Secretary-General George Robertson, will reportedly highlight the "immediate and pressing" danger posed by Russia, drawing on lessons from its full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

The analysis comes at a time of heightened concern across Europe over the potential for expanded conflict, as Russia continues its military buildup in Ukraine's northeastern Sumy Oblast and maintains strongholds across occupied Ukrainian territory.

British and French forces have already committed to leading a multinational "reassurance force" of up to 30,000 troops in Ukraine, should a ceasefire be reached, a prospect made uncertain by the Kremlin's continued aggression and maximalist demands.

Ukraine and Russia are expected to meet on June 2 in Istanbul after the first round of peace talks on May 16. During the first round of talks in Turkey the two sides failed to reach agreement on a 30-day ceasefire.

Ukraine had offered an immediate halt to hostilities, an all-for-all prisoner swap, and a meeting between Presidents Volodymyr Zelensky and Vladimir Putin. Russia refused, instead sending a low-level delegation.

The only decision reached during the talks was an agreement on a 1,000-for-1,000 prisoner exchange.

Alongside Russia, the review identifies China as a "sophisticated and persistent challenge," noting Beijing's growing ties with Moscow and its role in supplying critical components for Russian weapons systems.

Recently, Zelensky reportedly said that China stopped shipping drones to Ukraine and its European partners, while continues supplying them to Russia.

Ukrainian Foreign Intelligence Chief Oleh Ivashchenko alleged that Beijing provided special chemicals, gunpowder, and other defense-related materials to at least 20 Russian military-industrial facilities.

The British review is also expected to address the shrinking size of the British Army, which has dropped below 71,000 active-duty troops — its lowest strength since the Napoleonic era, the Guardian reported.

Peter Ricketts, a former national security adviser, said that while drones, cyber capabilities and artificial intelligence are crucial, "another lesson of Ukraine is that mass counts, in terms of manpower and equipment."

The report also reportedly references broader global threats posed by a "deadly quartet": Russia, China, Iran, and North Korea, who are increasingly collaborating across multiple domains. Iran has supplied drones to Russia, while North Korea have also deployed troops to aid Moscow.

Russia ‘testing’ Europe’s capacity to help Ukraine by intensifying air attacks

As Russia ramps up its missile and drone strikes countrywide, all eyes are on Europe’s capacity to continue supporting Ukraine, with the future of U.S. military aid growing ever more uncertain. Ukraine should have enough air defense missiles despite the persisting shortage to avoid the worst of the

The Kyiv IndependentAsami Terajima

On 16 May, Serhiy Kyslytsya, Ukraine’s First Deputy Foreign Minister, participated in the first direct peace talks between Ukrainian and Russian officials in over three years. The previous round had also taken place in Istanbul during the early weeks of Russia’s full-scale invasion. Since then, negotiations had stalled completely.

Vladimir Putin himself proposed Istanbul as the venue — yet notably did not attend, instead sending his confidant Vladimir Medinsky to lead the Russian delegation.

The talks, held behind closed doors and hosted by Türkiye, concluded with two concrete outcomes: completion of the largest prisoner exchange to date (1,000 for 1,000) and an agreement to meet again. However, no progress was made on a ceasefire.

What happened behind closed doors remained secret — until now.

Details emerged when Kyslytsya broke his silence in a revealing interview with Ukrainian broadcaster My-Ukrayina. His remarks, later summarized by Euromaidan Press and corroborated by reporting from The Economist and Reuters, exposed Russia’s shocking negotiation tactics and what they reveal about Putin’s real strategy.

Why this meeting was unlike any other

The meeting was unprecedented as the first direct diplomatic contact since early 2022, but Putin’s approach revealed even more. By proposing Istanbul — site of the stalled 2022 talks — while refusing to attend himself, Putin sent a clear message about control and conditions.

Russia’s most telling demand was excluding the United States entirely. Russian officials claimed they “didn’t have a mandate to talk if the US was in the room,” exposing their need to control both narrative and participants.

Türkiye handled the logistics professionally, providing interpreters in four languages and seating arrangements that maintained deliberate distance between the hostile delegations.

But Russia’s constraints were immediately apparent.

“This was an experienced delegation, but they had no mandate to move even one step left or right,” Kyslytsya observed. “They rigidly followed the directives they received.”

Most revealing was their categorical rejection of Ukraine’s core demand: “Several times during negotiations they said: ‘An unconditional ceasefire is categorically unacceptable,'” Kyslytsya recalled.

“I don’t believe their instructions included any option to reach an agreement with Ukraine on a ceasefire,” he concluded.

“Maybe you’ll lose more loved ones” – Russia’s personal threats

From the opening moments, the Russian delegation adopted what Kyslytsya described as a campaign of psychological pressure designed not to negotiate, but to destabilize their Ukrainian counterparts.

“It was all part of the pressure campaign — to provoke, to insult, to break our composure,” he said.

The atmosphere in the room was described as deliberately hostile. Russian delegates reportedly used aggressive interruptions, historical revisionism, and calculated provocations to keep their Ukrainian counterparts off-balance.

The most chilling moment came when Medinsky reportedly warned:

“Maybe some of those sitting here at this table will lose more of their loved ones. Russia is prepared to fight forever.”

For Kyslytsya, whose nephew died defending Ukraine, the threat was deeply personal. The targeting of family members represented a crossing of diplomatic red lines that shocked even experienced negotiators.

But the psychological warfare extended beyond personal threats. The Russian delegation systematically attempted to deny Ukrainian identity itself, framing the conflict in ways that would erase Ukraine’s sovereignty and national legitimacy.

At one point, the Russian side declared:

“This war… it’s basically just Russians killing Russians. With some nuances.”

“They tell you: ‘You’re not Ukrainian, you’re Russian,'” Kyslytsya recounted. “It was not just disrespectful; it was dehumanizing.”

This denial of Ukrainian nationhood wasn’t merely rhetorical — it represented a core element of Russia’s justification for the invasion.

Russia’s “detached from reality” territorial demands

Russia’s verbal threats were matched by territorial ultimatums that made meaningful negotiation impossible. According to both Kyslytsya and external reporting, Russia demanded Ukraine withdraw from all of Donetsk, Luhansk, Kherson, and Zaporizhzhia — including areas Ukraine still controls.

Medinsky reportedly invoked historical precedent:

“We fought Sweden for 21 years. How long are you ready to fight?”

The Russian delegation also warned that if Ukraine rejected current demands, “next time we’ll come for six or even eight regions instead of four.”

One Reuters source called the demands “detached from reality,” while Ukrainian officials described them as Russia’s “minimum requirement.”

“These weren’t negotiations,” Kyslytsya concluded. “These were pressure tests.”

The surprising reason Russia didn’t walk out

Despite their hostility and impossible demands, the Russian delegation never walked out. To Kyslytsya, this was the most telling aspect of the entire encounter.

“They couldn’t afford to walk out. They needed to come away with something.”

Russia had initially hoped to frame the talks as a continuation of the 2022 Istanbul negotiations. When Ukraine refused this framing, Russia’s narrative strategy collapsed—yet they stayed.

Kyslytsya believes this revealed Russia’s need to signal to the United States that they remained diplomatically engaged, even while excluding American participation from the talks.

“They live in a world of illusions. Of greatness, of control, of denial,” he said.

Even Medinsky’s direct access to Putin, Kyslytsya argued, meant little in practice.

“Access and courage are not the same thing. You don’t report reality to a dictator. You report a version of events that flatters power.”

What this really means for Ukraine war

While the prisoner exchange brought 1,000 Ukrainians home — a meaningful humanitarian victory — no broader diplomatic progress emerged. No timeline was set for future summits, and no framework established for de-escalation or a future ceasefire.

Türkiye managed the logistics professionally, providing interpreters in four languages and maintaining careful neutrality. But Russia’s insistence on excluding American participation exposed the process’s fundamental constraint.

“This is a dictatorship,” Kyslytsya observed. “There are no councils or parliaments. Everything is in the hands of one man.”

That man is Vladimir Putin. And until he enters the room himself, substantive peace negotiations remain impossible.

The hidden truth about Putin’s strategy

The Istanbul talks produced no diplomatic breakthrough, but they revealed something crucial about Russia’s position under pressure.

The combination of personal threats and rigid demands, paired with an unwillingness to actually leave the negotiating table, exposed a regime trying to project strength while managing serious constraints.

The bottom line: Putin’s delegation stayed seated even when their objectives failed — potentially revealing more about Russian limitations than any formal diplomatic outcome.

Imagine a billionaire fleeing to Moscow after treason charges, then crying on Russian TV about American “Christian persecution.” That’s what just happened — in reverse.

Tucker Carlson just handed his platform to Vadim Novinsky — Russia-born fugitive worth $1.4 billion, wanted in Ukraine for treason — who echoed the Kremlin’s claims about Kyiv “persecuting Christians” from his European exile.

“Ukraine has launched a campaign of persecution against Christians,” declared Novinsky, attending Russian Orthodox services in Zurich while complaining to Western cameras.

Here’s what the Kremlin-linked oligarch forgot to mention: in occupied Ukraine, his beloved church system shoves needles under pastors’ fingernails to force them into Russian spies.

While Trump’s team signals Ukraine may never join NATO to appease Putin, the security state Putin built is electrocuting Protestants for being “American spies” — genuinely shocked that their churches aren’t already wiretapped.

The pastor Russia marked for death

Pastor Oleh — a minister whose name has been changed to protect his family — made one unforgivable choice: he helped Ukrainian war refugees.

His church was located in Berdiansk, a strategic city in southern Ukraine seized by Russian forces just three days into the full-scale war. Surrounded on three sides by the Azov Sea, it became a vulnerable outpost as Ukrainian troops rushed toward Mariupol, trying to save it from what became one of the war’s deadliest sieges.

At first, Pastor Oleh believed in Ukrainian liberation. He cheered when Russian flags were torn down in Kharkiv and Kherson — the only regional capitals Putin’s troops had managed to capture. However, each passing day in occupied territory brought greater risk, especially for someone leading a congregation.

While Protestants make up just 2–4% of Ukraine’s population, they account for nearly a third of all registered religious communities, while also championing the provision of humanitarian aid and social support.

Not surprisingly, Oleh’s Baptist church quickly became a hub for refugee support, especially for civilians fleeing besieged Mariupol.

“People simply lived in the church; we completely opened our doors, fed people, welcomed them… new people arrived every day,” Oleh told Euromaidan Press.

However, that compassion soon drew the attention of the Kremlin’s secret police. As soon as Russia’s Federal Security Service (FSB) entered the city, the pastor’s humanitarian work gave him a choice no sermon could prepare him for: spy for the occupiers, or face the consequences.

Explore further

Obey to pray: Russia’s ruthless crackdown on faith in occupied Ukraine

The Kremlin’s Holy Trinity: Church, State, and Surveillance

The Russian state has a long history of subordinating religion — a system inherited directly from the Soviet Union.

Despite its official atheism, the USSR reinstated the Russian Orthodox Church (ROC) after World War II to extend the Communist Party’s control and expand surveillance over the population. After the Soviet collapse in 1991, the Kremlin briefly lifted restrictions on religion — but that freedom lasted only two years.

By 1993, the ROC had successfully lobbied to ban foreign missionaries. Under Vladimir Putin’s rule, and with the rise of Patriarch Kirill — a former KGB agent — in 2009, religious repression deepened.

In 2017, Russia branded minority faiths like Jehovah’s Witnesses as “extremist,” while also banning independent missionary work — a direct blow to Evangelical churches, who made up half of those targeted.

As the Kremlin restored Soviet-style religious control, it also revived the secret service’s role in managing church life — an echo of the Soviet legacy where high-ranking clergy appointments required KGB approval.

The symbolic culmination came in 2002, when an Orthodox church was consecrated on the grounds of the FSB headquarters in Moscow — a project initiated by Putin himself, a former FSB chief. Since then, the Russian Orthodox Church has openly aligned with the security service in cracking down on “non-traditional” faiths, while Russia’s secret police actively persecute alternative faiths seen as competitors to the state-controlled church.

How Ukraine’s Protestants became Russia’s marked men

For Ukrainians who have found themselves under Russian occupation, religious freedom quickly turned from a right into a threat to be wiped out.

Unlike Russia, Ukraine’s 1996 Constitution enshrines freedom of religion, paving the way for more than 36,000 religious organizations across 100 denominations to register in the decades since.  This protection has allowed various faiths to grow inside a mainly Orthodox nation, with only Protestants accounting for nearly a million believers before the full-scale invasion.

“In my 26 years as a Protestant, I had never experienced a ban on gathering or street evangelism,” said Pastor Viktor Cherniyavsky, from Luhansk — a city overtaken by Russia in 2014. “Ukraine has always been open and engaged with all denominations.”

However, this openness quickly collapsed under Moscow’s occupation. As the full-scale invasion trapped millions behind Russian lines, Ukraine’s Protestant pastors suddenly found themselves walking a razor’s edge — targeted simply for existing outside the Kremlin’s approved faith.

Explore further

Russia tried to wipe out Ukraine’s Protestants. Their pastors struck back from D.C.

Russia’s holy war on Christian charity

Oleh from Berdiansk felt the contrast almost immediately. When agents from Russia’s Federal Security Service (FSB) entered the city, his congregation was quickly flagged for distributing humanitarian aid. In the eyes of the occupation authorities, this meant competing with Russian troops, whom the Kremlin portrayed as “liberators.”

“They didn’t accept people who helped unless it was under the Russian flag,” Oleh explained.

His story is far from unique. According to a report by Mission Eurasia, by summer 2022, Russian occupation authorities began treating church-run humanitarian work as a threat to their control. Aid was confiscated at checkpoints and eventually banned altogether if it came from Ukrainian-controlled territory.

“Russian trucks came, and people were given small food packages. The Russian press was always around… It looked like they were training animals. First, they take everything away from the people, then they toss them a pittance and compel them to love, rejoice, and obey,” one eyewitness testified.

Oleh remembers how pressure on Protestant churches quickly escalated. They were branded as “American churches” and their pastors as “American spies” — mirroring the Russian belief that any aid not controlled by the state is foreign subversion.

However, the crackdown on food and shelter was just the beginning. As Oleh recalls, this scrutiny soon spiraled into a full-scale campaign of repression against Protestant Christians — a purgatory unleashed with the blessing of the Russian Orthodox Church.

The grenade ultimatum: spy on your flock or die

The occupiers saw pastors and priests not as spiritual leaders, but as tools of influence. They threatened and pressured them to accept Russian citizenship — and to persuade their congregants to do the same. Without a Russian passport, they were told, they could no longer live or serve in the occupied territories.

But even those who complied weren’t spared. Pastors were coerced into acting as informants for Russian security services, expected to share private information heard during confessions. One day, they even handed Pastor Oleh a grenade.

“They threatened to kill my family if we attempted to leave,” he told Euromaidan Press.

When Russian agents demanded he identify church members with relatives in the Ukrainian military, Oleh refused — to their utter disbelief.

“I knew that some people in my church had children who served in the Ukrainian army. They [the Russians] wanted their names,” Oleh said. “But, of course, thank God, I didn’t say anything about them.”

The experience revealed something deeper: Russian authorities couldn’t grasp the idea of a church independent from the state. In their worldview, any pastor not spying must be a Western agent — a theme echoed across testimonies from occupied territories.

“They saw all churches as a threat, like American churches, American spies,” Oleh explains. “For them, all Protestants are a foreign faith; there should be one faith of the Moscow Patriarchate, no other churches.”

Russia’s Christian love: interrogate, threat, torture, repeat

The persecution of religious leaders in occupied Ukraine follows a pattern: first come interrogations, then threats, then the seizure of church buildings — and finally, arrests, torture, or deportation for those who refuse to cooperate.

Since the start of the full-scale invasion, Russian troops have killed or kidnapped at least 29 religious leaders. They reflect a deliberate, systemic policy — one exported from Russia and amplified across occupied Ukrainian territories, with the full backing of Kremlin propaganda.

“There are many different sects in the empire’s south,” said Ekaterina Arkalova, a propagandist on a TV channel founded by the Russian Orthodox Church. “Fighting those sects, all those Protestants and Jehovah’s Witnesses, is the main task of our counterintelligence in those territories.”

This wave of repression didn’t spare Oleh’s congregation. One of his church drivers — who had helped evacuate civilians from besieged Mariupol — was captured and held for 43 days.

“They tortured him very severely. He barely survived,” Oleh said.

Oleh knew his turn would come. Soon after, Russian troops banned his congregation from using their church building, forcing them to pray in secret at members’ homes for six months. His apartment became a makeshift sanctuary — until it, too, was stormed and ransacked.

Faith or flight: the pastor who outran Putin’s agents by one day

In the dead of night, 15 armed Russian soldiers stormed Oleh’s apartment and tore it apart. The first question they asked seemed ripped from another century: “How do you feel about the Soviet state?”

“We will teach you to love the motherland,” the soldier responded, hinting that Oleh was born in the USSR.

It was a warning — and a promise. From that night on, raids and interrogations became routine. So did the pressure to accept a Russian passport, the occupiers’ precondition for continuing to live and serve in the city. During one interrogation, Oleh asked how Protestant churches function inside Russia.

“Those churches are different,” one officer said, implying they had either been fully indoctrinated or were surviving under constant FSB pressure and surveillance.

By winter 2023, after nearly a year of living under the watchful eye of the FSB, Oleh made a decision: he would flee.

With all routes to Ukrainian-controlled territory sealed off by Russian forces, he and his wife and children attempted a high-risk escape through occupied Mariupol, across Russia, and into Estonia, a European Union country.

They drove with barely any rest, racing the clock so that Russian authorities wouldn’t notice their disappearance. They made it just in time: on the very day they crossed the border, the occupiers arrived at their home looking for him.

Today, Oleh lives in the Netherlands, where he continues to serve — this time as a pastor to a Ukrainian refugee community. He now speaks openly about the trauma he endured, hoping to expose the true nature of the “Russian world.”

“Without faith, it would have been very difficult for me not to break,” Oleh says, crediting divine protection for his family’s survival — a miracle many other persecuted clergy never received.

The Orthodox blessing of Protestant torture

Pastor Viktor Cherniyavsky, who escaped Russian captivity nearly a decade earlier, knows this experience all too well. He was abducted shortly after Russian forces seized his native city of Luhansk in eastern Ukraine in 2014 — a reminder of how little has changed in Russia’s torture playbook over the years.

“A clergyman of the Russian Orthodox Church tried to drive demons out of me and watched as I was tortured for being a Protestant,” he told Euromaidan Press. “He forced me to kiss a cross, pressing it against my face before stepping back to let the beatings continue.”

While imprisoned, Viktor read from a small New Testament that his wife had managed to deliver. After surviving the ordeal and witnessing Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022, he made a decision: to join the Ukrainian military.

Knowing what the Russian occupation brings, he chose to defend others. He credits his survival to God’s protection, which he believes allowed him to escape captivity and make it back to Ukrainian-controlled territory.

Once the full-scale Russian invasion erupted, this experience — and knowing what Russian occupation brings to more Ukrainians and fellow believers — convinced him to join the Ukrainian army, relying on God’s protection he believes allowed him to be released from Russian captivity alive.

Viktor’s former congregation, however, saw another tactic Russia uses to control “non-traditional” faiths: forced replacement and religious rebranding.

“A pastor from Russia was sent to replace our original pastor, who had fled after receiving threats to his life,” he said.

Under Russian law, all religious groups except the Russian Orthodox Church can only function legally if they register with state-approved bodies — a process that effectively places them under the control of the FSB. In occupied Ukraine, many churches are allowed to continue operating only after agreeing to complete subordination to religious centers inside Russia.

However, even this pseudo-legal survival isn’t guaranteed. Pastor Oleh from Berdiansk recalled, Russian soldiers made no secret of their endgame.

“They said, ‘This is temporary. There will be only the Orthodox Church. We’re starting to sort things out here — and then we’ll sort them out back there,’” he recalled.

This campaign of erasure hasn’t spared anyone — not even the denomination that, by name and tradition, might seem least likely to face repression under Putin’s Orthodox crusade. Instead, it has become target number one in occupied Ukraine.

The church Putin fears most

Russia’s crusade against believers has inflicted its most brutal damage on the very community it claims to protect: Ukraine’s Orthodox Christians.

This persecution didn’t begin in 2022 — but it escalated rapidly after the Ukrainian church formally broke away from Kremlin control. Though the Ukrainian Orthodox Church had long distanced itself from Moscow, it was only in 2019 that its independence was officially recognized by the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople — the highest authority in the Orthodox Christian world.

That year, the newly-established Orthodox Church of Ukraine (OCU) was granted full religious autonomy as a self-governing national church.

The OCU’s legalization triggered a nationwide shift: parishes across Ukraine began transferring en masse from the Moscow-affiliated churches, including nearly 15% of Russian Orthodox parishes in Ukraine. Within a short time, the OCU became the largest Orthodox church in the country, dramatically shrinking the Kremlin’s religious influence.

Not coincidentally, the OCU and its clergy were singled out for systematic repression in the occupied territories.

Even priests from the Russian-affiliated churches — historically aligned with Moscow — were persecuted if they refused to pray for “the victory of Russian arms” or insisted on maintaining their Ukrainian identity.

“At first, they asked how our church differs from an Orthodox church. I said: we are Orthodox, just Ukrainian,” one priest said. “When they realized there was nothing they could use against us, they gave us an ultimatum: either transfer to the Russian Orthodox Church, or face repressions.”

“Pray for Russia or be tortured”: Inside Russia’s Orthodox Inquisition

Torture quickly became a defining feature of Russia’s approach to Ukrainian clergy. Father Vasyl Vyrozub, chaplain and rector of the Odesa Holy Trinity Cathedral of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine, was captured in the early days of the invasion. His testimony reveals the brutality masked by religious rhetoric.

“Two Russian soldiers forced me into the split position and stretched me; two of them were wringing my arms and legs, holding my head to the wall,” he recalled. “The third one was beating me from behind — on my kidneys, on my head — and with a stun gun.”

When the interrogators demanded information, the torture escalated:

“They twisted my arms, forced me onto my knees, and shoved a needle under my fingernail. All while shouting, ‘You will tell us. You will confess.’”

His refusal to sing the Russian national anthem during morning roll call — instead reciting The Lord’s Prayer — brought further punishment. Stripped naked and thrown into a freezing punishment cell (6–8°C or 43–46°F), he was left for four days without food, water, or sleep.

Throughout his captivity, Vasyl was subjected to special mistreatment because of his affiliation with the OCU. Russian interrogators kept demanding he admit which department of Ukraine’s Security Service (SBU) he worked for — unable to comprehend that a priest could exist outside state intelligence structures.

However, Father Vasyl’s ordeal is not an isolated case. Across occupied Ukraine, religious leaders have reported mock executions, electric shocks, threats of rape, and hours-long group beatings — the result of deliberate policy, enforced by the same Russian state that claims to be the guardian of global Orthodoxy.

Explore further

How the Russian Orthodox Church enabled Putin’s war against Ukraine

From blessing war to stealing children: Russia’s holy crimes

The role of the Russian Orthodox Church in the invasion of Ukraine goes far beyond passive compliance.

During the full-scale invasion, the Church became a key Kremlin partner in war crimes. Its involvement has ranged from blessing Russia’s military aggression and spreading propaganda to more grave violations — such as facilitating the deportation of Ukrainian civilians, including children, to Russia, where many have been held in church-run facilities.

The ROC’s hostility to Ukrainian statehood didn’t stop at Russia’s border. Since the 2014 invasion, the Kremlin has actively relied on its Ukrainian proxy — the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate (UOC-MP) — which before the war accounted for nearly 40% of all Orthodox churches in Ukraine. 

Since 2022, Ukraine has opened over 100 criminal cases against ROC-affiliated priests for aiding Russia’s war effort. Other countries — including Bulgaria and North Macedonia — have expelled Russian clergy on espionage charges.

In response, in August 2024, Ukraine passed a law restricting the activities of religious organizations affiliated with the Russian Orthodox Church. The legislation gave such groups nine months to sever ties with Moscow and re-register under Ukrainian jurisdiction. Those that refused would be subject to legal termination.

Explore further

“Not about banning.” Theologian unpacks Ukraine’s new anti-Russian church law

Yet as of 2025, over 90% of UOC-MP parishes have failed to comply. Despite that, more than 8,000 ROC-linked churches still operate in Ukraine-controlled territory, despite Russia’s ongoing war.

Still, the Kremlin’s propaganda machine has seized the opportunity to push a message that Ukraine is the one persecuting religious believers. This narrative has found fertile ground in US conservative circles, even though nearly all UOC-MP churches still remain active within Ukraine.

Pastor Oleh, who lived under Russian occupation and now serves a refugee community in the EU, sees the distortion clearly:

“People who shout that there is no freedom in Ukraine… In Russia, you can’t even shout about it,” he said. “You have to think about it quietly — because the moment you think differently, something bad will happen to you. Such freedom as in Ukraine does not exist anywhere for believers.”

Donald Trump is selling Ukraine and European security out to Moscow. However, he has not gotten his thirty pieces of silver for doing so.

The proof came in stark detail during three days of failed negotiations in Istanbul from May 14-16, where Russian demands revealed the true price of Trump’s “peace” plan. This Trump Putin Ukraine call debacle exposed how Putin manipulates American foreign policy through Trump’s personal weaknesses.

Russian negotiators opened with an ultimatum: Ukraine must completely evacuate all military forces from four regions Moscow claims to have annexed—Zaporizhzhia, Luhansk, Donetsk, and Kherson—before any ceasefire discussion could begin. No negotiations, no gradual withdrawal, no international monitoring—total capitulation as the entry fee.

When Ukrainian negotiators flatly refused this demand, Russia immediately escalated: they would seize two additional provinces, Sumy and Kharkiv, containing millions more Ukrainian citizens. The threat wasn’t hypothetical—Russian forces physically threatened the families of Ukrainian negotiators attending the talks.

By the final day, Russia’s delegation leader Vladimir Medinsky delivered Moscow’s ultimate position: Russia was “prepared to fight forever.”

In other words, Russia still wants to eliminate Ukraine as a state—and will use any negotiation as cover to make more territorial demands.

Instead, he now threatens to walk away from the war entirely, leaving Ukraine and Europe in the lurch.

The “art of the deal” meets Putin’s playbook

This self-proclaimed master of “The Art of the Deal,” a book that he did not even write, showed that when negotiating with Putin he is, to use his own words, a sucker and a loser.

By surrendering to Putin and foregoing a joint US-European threat of crushing sanctions, Trump sold out Ukraine and America’s European allies and widened the split within NATO that his own administration has created. All these manifestations of Trump’s self-proclaimed genius have accrued solely to Vladimir Putin’s benefit since he has paid no price for these gains.

Negotiating with Russia about Ukraine over Kyiv’s head, making preemptive concessions about excluding Ukraine from NATO, and having it concede territories in advance of formal negotiations all reflect Trump’s delusions about Russia.

Putin’s unchanged war aims vs. Trump’s Ukraine blame game

Trump has said that it is easier to negotiate with Russia than Ukraine, even though Moscow has made no concessions and has held fast to its ambitions to destroy Ukraine as an independent entity. This position contradicts those who ask “did Trump say Ukraine started the war” – he has repeatedly blamed Ukraine for the conflict’s origins.

Trump’s repeated statements that he can trust Putin and that he and Putin went through the same ordeal during his earlier impeachment hearings likewise display a man governed by his fantasies and delusions.

Similarly, his policy team’s remarks reflect a surpassing ignorance of Russian policy and the war in Ukraine. Secretary of State Rubio, Ambassador Witkoff, and ex-National Security Advisor Waltz either believe or must agree with ridiculous false statements that weaken both the US and Ukraine’s position vis-à-vis Russia.

Witkoff blesses Russia’s territorial landgrabs

Russia will expand in all directions—and Trump’s envoy just gave the go-ahead

Similarly, Director of National Intelligence Gabbard justified closing Radio Free Europe and the Voice of America among other organizations by reposting right-wing effusions by the Malaysian podcaster and journalist manque Ian Miles Cheong who writes for the Russian propaganda outlet Russia Today (RT) that these organizations “produced and disseminated far-left propaganda” and “perpetuated pro-war narratives against Russia.”

Thus, Trump’s foreign policy is not anchored in reality and is already failing.

Moreover, Trump’s statements about trusting Putin do not conform to other actors’ realities. French Foreign Minister Stephane Sejourne observed in 2024 that, “It is not in our interest currently to hold discussions with Russian officials because the statements and the summaries issued about them are lies.”

Neither is France a unique case. Trump has obviously learned nothing from the failure of his ham-handed efforts to impose a solution on Ukraine that have only led Moscow to increase its demands on Kyiv.

Since the beginning of Russia’s aggression against Ukraine, Trump has claimed that Ukraine started this war and that Ukraine does not hold the cards.

Why Putin skipped Istanbul: Trump-Putin meeting manipulation

Although Trump claimed that Putin did not come to Istanbul because he wasn’t coming, and that nothing will happen until he and Putin meet, this is another typically self-centered and willful misreading of Russian policy.

Putin’s absence from the May 14-16 talks was deliberate. By sending negotiators with impossible demands rather than attending himself, Putin could blame Ukraine for “refusing to negotiate” while positioning himself for direct talks with Trump that would bypass Ukrainian sovereignty entirely.

Putin sees no reason to negotiate with Zelensky for three fundamental reasons.

First, Putin clearly will not accept Zelensky or probably anyone else as head of an independent, sovereign Ukrainian state, for doing so undermines the entire rationale and purpose of this war. That opens Putin up to severe domestic backlash as he presides over an increasingly troubled economy and an army that will be further demoralized if it cannot conquer Ukraine.

Second, Putin sent negotiators to Istanbul with extreme demands that would torpedo the proceedings in order to continue his campaign to make a deal with Trump over the head of Ukraine and split NATO—an alliance that Trump and his administration foolishly disdain.

Third, as he recently said, Russia has sufficient conventional military power to bring the war to “a logical conclusion,” i.e., victory. He also claimed that Russia is recruiting twice as many recruits as Ukraine on a monthly basis—a questionable advantage since, according to estimates, Russia is losing twice as many men as Ukraine.

Trump’s willful ignorance problem

Trump’s phone call with Vladimir Putin on 19 May—just three days after this diplomatic catastrophe—highlighted his betrayal of Ukraine and Europe along with his utter strategic incapacity. In this conversation, as in so many previous exchanges with Putin, he renounced his own idea of a thirty-day cease-fire in Ukraine as a prelude to bilateral negotiations.

Moreover, he stated that negotiations will begin immediately. In fact, he let Putin, once again, bewitch him with the mirage of billions or trillions in trade with Russia.

Trump still thinks, not surprisingly, that he alone can solve this war by meeting face to face with Putin.

Unfortunately, this outcome was all too predictable. Secretary of State Rubio may assert that America’s ties to NATO and Europe continue undiminished, that the USA is waiting for Russian peace proposals, and that anti-Russian sanctions are still on the table.

But he is not calling the shots and instead has fallen into line with Trump at every opportunity.

He may claim that he is doing a good job. But instead, he is merely reflecting his master’s voice of strategic incoherence, fantasy, and delusion. These fantasies were visibly displayed at the predictable fiasco of negotiations in Istanbul on 16 May.

Although some commentators think that these talks, despite their failure, presage new negotiations for a ceasefire, it is more likely that new negotiations will not be resumed anytime soon.

The most obvious reason for asserting this conclusion is the incompatibility of the parties’ positions. But equally, if not more importantly, Trump’s behavior is a major reason for this prediction.

The briefing books Trump won’t read

This willful ignorance is to be expected. Since taking office, he has sat for only 12 briefings of the President’s Daily Brief and rarely reads the accompanying briefing book. This pattern raises questions about whether Trump supports Putin through deliberate ignorance or genuine incompetence.

Likewise, the delusional quality of administration policymaking is evident in the following quote by Trump’s envoy Steve Witkoff, who, before the call to Putin, told ABC News that, “the president has a force of personality that is unmatched.” Witkoff added, “He’s got to get on the phone with President Putin, and that is going to clear up some of the logjam and get us to the place that we need to get to. And I think it’s going to be a very successful call.”

Neither did Witkoff familiarize himself with the issues here before negotiating with Putin without an embassy official as translator. Not surprisingly, other members of the administration regard him as, in their own words, “an idiot.”

The military reality Trump ignores

Trump’s self-centered and deluded remarks betray not only an ongoing failure to grasp the stakes here but also a desire not to know or care about Ukraine or European security that has infected his entire administration. Trump still believes that Ukraine cannot win even though Russia has shown that it cannot win this war by its own efforts.

Without Chinese economic support, Iranian drones, and millions of North Korean shells and several thousand troops, Russia could not sustain or finance it.

While the support given to Ukraine remains too little, too late, its army is still in the field, its defense industry has made gigantic strides, the Russian Black Sea Fleet has been confined to Russian ports, and the Russian Air Force has not achieved air superiority.

Neither is it likely that Russia can exploit any gains it makes due to its manpower shortage—an appalling testimony to the sacrifice of a million men on the altar of Putin’s dreams.

Indeed, as long as Trump continues policymaking by impulse and ego, nobody can consider him a reliable negotiator.

Explore further

WP: Trump softens on Putin as Russian battlefield edge declines

The impossible “reverse Nixon” strategy

Numerous reports explain Trump’s incompetence here by referring to the delusion that Trump can or intends to effect “a reverse Nixon”—i.e., split the Russo-Chinese axis and bring Russia over to America’s side, much like Nixon and Kissinger enlisted China against the USSR in the 1970s to create a new world order.

Trump and Secretary of State Rubio have stated their intention to break this axis which, as almost every commentary has attested, has grown tighter in the recent past. Therefore, the idea that Trump can bring about this reverse Nixon remains unfounded and delusional.

Worse yet, this intention apparently is linked to Trump’s visible ambition to win the Nobel Peace Prize (which, given the disposition of the peace prize committee in Stockholm, remains possibly the biggest delusion of all) by ending the war on Ukraine. This, along with his previous well-documented adulation of Vladimir Putin, can explain why his administration continues to impose concessions on Ukraine while fawning over Russia.

Russia-China alliance: Why Putin won’t abandon China for Trump

The delusion that by appeasing Russia regarding Ukraine and detaching it from China also founders on Russia’s undeviating maximalist demands to destroy Ukrainian statehood. Equally delusional and utterly unfounded is the idea that Moscow will willingly follow in Trump’s wake. Neither will China remain supine throughout this process and let Russia slip away.

There also are other obstacles to Trump’s fantasy. Neither he nor his team remotely approach Nixon and Kissinger’s skill, intelligence, vision, and ability in effecting a reversal of their program. That program, meticulously planned and secretly executed, took three years to mature. Trump and his team have neither the patience, skill, nor capacity to carry this out.

Neither do Russo-Chinese relations resemble what Nixon confronted.

Moreover, Russian economic dependence on China has grown enormously due to the war in Ukraine, to the point where Russia cannot afford to break with China. The Russia China alliance represents a fundamental shift from the 1970s geopolitical landscape that Trump seems unable to comprehend.

Sino-Russian trade is at record levels. China is massively involved in the war, as well in illicitly providing dual-use goods to Russia. 78% of Russian imports of semiconductors and 96% of Russian imports of smart cards have come from China.

China is also the main customer for Russian energy exports, and the Yuan has become steadily more important as Russia’s foreign currency.

The global cost of Trump’s delusions

Finally, neither Russia nor China is inclining to America, much to Trump’s dismay. While Ukraine, Canada, Europe, and the US are already paying for Trump’s delusions, Trump’s public disappointment at Russia makes clear that his education to reality, if it ever occurs, will be expensive and on a global scale. For those asking “does Putin like Trump,” the answer seems increasingly clear: Putin views Trump as a useful tool, not a respected partner.

Nevertheless, facts are stubborn things. The defense of Ukraine and of European security remain vital American interests, European security is incompatible with Russian empire, and Russia can and must be beaten for international order to prevail and for China to be restrained.

Therefore, until Ukraine prevails due to unstinting Western support, the war will continue, but neither Trump nor America will gain anything from it.

Trump may think he is “running the world.” However, he cannot even control himself, let alone Russia. And as long as Trump prefers to build and live in his own castles in the air, Vladimir Putin will collect the rent on those castles.

Stephen Blank

Dr. Stephen J. Blank, a Senior Fellow at the Foreign Policy Research Institute, is an expert on Russian foreign policy, Eurasian security, and international relations.