When a target category hardens its defenses around an area, the system can provide insights supporting a shift toward another, more vulnerable one, with significant potential impact and unlikely to be defended extensively due, for instance, to the cost of doing so versus expected losses.

This may help explain why the focus turned to Wildberries.

First of all, the warehouses hit are not its main asset. Wildberries is above all a digital marketplace and logistics platform; thus, the value of the company resides in its software, data, payment and fulfillment systems, as well as its customer base and seller ecosystem, with the associated network effects.

The warehouses are the physical nodes executing what the platform offers. Though obviously necessary, they represent a rather minor share of value and are easier to replace than one would think. The bottom line is, destroying this network may temporarily cripple operations, but not the company’s ability to do business long-term if it recalibrates. Simply said, the warehouses are largely standardized facilities, not a core asset differentiating the business.

Overlooked by most, a Wildberries warehouse is generally made using prefabricated sandwich-panel construction. This explains why it burns easily and why it is vulnerable to small drone attacks, as it is not hardened construction.

Basically, this means it is not a critical target to defend at high cost against air strikes, because it remains vulnerable even if only a couple of drones go through the defenses, while it can be rebuilt relatively rapidly and inexpensively, and is not the core asset of the operation.

Notwithstanding the cost and assembly time of such facilities, which ranges between 6–12 months depending on material availability and lead times, compared with many other critical factories within Russia, it is easy to understand why they do not appear as priority targets for the deployment of massive air-defense systems.

The logistics and fulfillment systems inside the warehouses are another matter. Though most of the systems are rather common and can be replaced, some of the latest automated conveyor and robotics technologies implemented will cause delays in restoring operations to the same pace as prior to the strikes.

Wildberries operates out of 209 logistics facilities totaling 5.6m m². Twenty-six of those have been hit, representing roughly ~30% of total surface area destroyed. (some managed to restart operations)

Reuters reported that when losses remained under 10%, little impact was visible on deliveries. However, once losses approached or exceeded 20% of capacity, the situation deteriorated, with increasing difficulties fulfilling orders in some urban areas.

That being said, the company has already called for partners to replace damaged and destroyed storage space, which could alleviate some of the current issues. Notably, as described above, storage space is replaceable within the operating model, although this requires some recalibration to new sites, adjustments to delivery routes, and connection of third-party logisticians to the platform.

Nevertheless, the impact will be significant for Wildberries itself, both in terms of reputational damage and financial losses.

The impact on the Russian economy is not as important. Wildberries handled GMV, Gross Merchandise Value, equivalent in nominal value to approximately 2.85% of Russian GDP, although GMV is a transaction-flow metric and not a measure of value added. Assuming sales on the platform are down 25%, according to Reuters, this would represent transactions equivalent to around 0.71% of GDP, but this figure must be adjusted substantially, as many transactions are moving to competitors such as Ozon or back to physical retailers.

Damage to goods, facilities and associated compensation has been estimated at around $4bn. The economic impact would be below 0.1% of GDP, broadly in line with what economists have recently argued. This remains contingent, however, on how fast operations can recalibrate and address continued strikes.

In The Moscow Times:

Economist Dmitry Nekrasov said the attacks could cause serious problems for sellers and create damaging optics for the Kremlin, but were unlikely to pose a significant threat to the economy or even the retail sector because the market remained highly competitive.

“Let us assume that the total losses, including warehouses that may still be destroyed, reach 200 billion rubles. That is slightly less than 0.1% of Russia’s GDP.”

Therefore, despite generating a complex crisis, the direct macroeconomic impact remains marginal and is unlikely, by itself, to materially affect Moscow’s ability to wage the war.

Wildberries nevertheless fits closely the type of target set such a decision-advantage system could expose. It provides not only a potentially high return for the strikes, but also a strong communication narrative, while Russian Command is unlikely to invest massively in protecting every facility, which does not openly or significantly serve its war apparatus.

There is a reasonable likelihood that strikes will eventually move toward another target category as vulnerabilities, defenses and expected effects evolve.

The goal is not to cripple the Russian economy in the short term by damaging one specific enterprise, but to generate compounded destruction in order to increase the cost of war, while ensuring the drone campaign remains cost-effective. This is where AI-enabled decision-making and planning become critical.

Humans alone may have identified Wildberries as a possible network to target, but not necessarily analyzed it simultaneously against the full range of alternative target sets, vulnerabilities and expected effects. The system can also provide planning guidance to orchestrate strikes on specific facilities at the optimal time, reducing air defense effectiveness.

This may also help explain the relatively limited use of Lyutyi drones against some elements of the military-industrial complex. Hardened, large factories are poorly suited to attacks by drones carrying around 50kg of explosive charge, particularly where the cost of deploying air defenses can be justified.

A more suitable vector to inflict physical damage on large industrial facilities would theoretically be the Flamingo missile, which carries around 1,000kg of explosives and is therefore better suited to this type of target. However, its effectiveness at scale remains uncertain, despite sporadic successful hits, such as the strike on the Soyuz assembly facility in Samara of August 15th 2026. (Incidentally, another “soft target”)

Ukraine’s choice of targets is constrained by the weapons available. Small long-range drones are far better suited to large, soft and combustible facilities than to hardened industrial complexes, while Ukraine currently lacks a sufficiently numerous and reliable heavy-strike vector for sustained attacks against the latter able to breach concentrated air defenses.

Wildberries’ main assets remain largely unaffected despite some rumours of cyber attacks taking place. Once the company has recalibrated its network around third-party warehouses, alternative logistics capacity and newly rebuilt facilities, it should be able to return toward normal operations post war, although this will involve significant financial losses and may require federal or banking support. Another notable fact is 65% of its distribution surface remains untouched, and business operations have not entirely stopped.

The current strikes on Wildberries can instead be understood as part of a broader, AI-enabled approach whose objective is therefore less to cripple individual enterprises than to continuously identify target sets where limited strike resources can generate disproportionate costs. Wildberries illustrates this logic remarkably well: vulnerable enough to attack economically, important enough to generate disruption and publicity, yet insufficiently critical to justify comprehensive air-defense protection. This is precisely the type of trade-off an AI-enabled decision-advantage architecture is designed to identify.

A lot is wrong with this thread so I feel compelled to set the historical reality straight.

With regards to the structure and size of the Russian Army during the First World War, the commonly acknowledged reference is the work of General Nikolai Golovin, an officer of the Imperial Russian Army and a military historian who extensively studied the surviving records.

He summarised his analytical work in “The Military Effort of Russia in the World War”, published in Paris in 1939 while living in exile in France.

The book is in the public domain. The relevant chapters can be accessed here.

I will illustrate this analysis with excerpts translated into English. Screenshots of the most important tables will be provided in the replies to substantiate the conclusions.

My original comparison did not attempt to reconstruct the attrition rate of the Imperial Russian Army. It measured the annual fatality burden relative to the average force maintained during the relevant period: annual deaths divided by average force strength. In other words, it could be described as a force-regeneration burden indicator.

The purpose of my initial post was simply to provide a comparison for the Russo-Ukrainian War, not to produce a comprehensive historical study. I therefore chose not to overload it with extensive inline sourcing or methodological detail.

Nevertheless, here we are. I am pleased to use this opportunity to explain the method in details and to provide the historical insights for those genuinely interested in the topic.

1. The thread claims that:

This overlooks the fact that I estimated the average size of Russian forces between 1915 and 1917. I never claimed that this level had already been reached in every year of the period.

Moreover, the unsourced figures presented seem incorrect and do not correspond to the established literature on the subject. According to Golovin, the Active Army had already reached 4.9 million men by November 1915 and had remained above 3.8 million from April onward.

More importantly, Golovin distinguishes four separate components of the Russian military system:

• The Active Army: forces deployed in the theatre of operations.

• Reserve troops: reserve formations in which conscripts and replacement soldiers were trained.

• Permanent forces of the military districts: formations responsible for security and other functions in support of the Active Army.

• Rear organisations: support organisations, including the Red Cross and logistical services, which were not officially part of the military but appeared in quartermaster records as personnel who had to be supplied and fed.

The forces that can reasonably be considered directly involved in the war in a given year are the Active Army and the permanent forces of the military districts. For the Active Army, Golovin provides an almost monthly baseline.

Once the relevant periods are weighted appropriately, this produces an average strength of approximately 5.7 million men between 1915 and 1917. Adding an average of approximately 350,000 permanent military-district personnel produces a total of roughly 6 million men, exactly as stated in my original post.

Beyond this 6 million denominator stood the reserve troops, whose average strength amounted to approximately 1.5 million men over the course of the war. Their strength declined by half between 1915 to and 1917, when most reserve formations were transferred to the theatre following the casualties suffered during the Brusilov Offensive.

In addition, the rear organisations employed almost 2 million non-military personnel. These personnel were essential to the logistical functioning of a Russian Army constrained by inadequate road and railway networks. They are sometimes mistakenly included in estimates of the army’s total strength.

Golovin writes:

“In our country, the term ‘Active Army’ referred to the land and naval armed forces, military administrations, and institutions subordinate to the Supreme Commander-in-Chief. The territory designated for the deployment and stationing of the Active Army was called the ‘theatre of military operations.’ Besides the elements of our armed forces which constituted the Active Army, there remained within the country numerous institutions serving the Active Army, as well as ‘reserve troops,’ i.e., those military units in which the training of conscripts and soldiers took place; within the country, a portion of the militia squads also remained for security service.”

Golovin also writes:

“Thus, the total number of militia departments, institutions, and squads directly subordinate to the Minister of War reached 400,000 by the end of the war. Considering that at the beginning of the war this number was smaller, we will not make a significant mistake if we assume that in 1915 this number was equal to 300,000, and in 1916 to 350,000.”

In reality, substantial organised reserves remained in the rear throughout 1915, but bottlenecks in transportation, command, equipment, and supplies delayed their transfer to front-line formations until later in 1916.

Golovin writes:

“At the end of December 1915, the number of reserve troops located inside the country can be considered to have reached 2,000,000.”

2. The thread also notes that the proportion of combatants declined from 75% in 1914 to approximately 50% in 1916. This refers to Golovin’s assessment of the Active Army alone and reinforces my point. Even after this decline, the combat component remained significantly larger than in any modern military force, including the present-day Russian Army, where combat troops account for less than 30% of total personnel.

The attempted rebuttal then challenges my average annual ratio of 8.3% by calculating an attrition rate based solely on the combat component of the Active Army.

To what purpose? These are two different indicators measuring two different things.

Changing the parameters naturally produces a different result, but it does not refute my assessment: that Russian forces in 2026 are implausibly claimed to be suffering much higher losses than the Tsarist Army before its collapse in 1917.

3. Likely calculation error.

First, I fail to understand what the period of 2.4 years is supposed to represent. The war lasted approximately 3.4 years for the Russian Empire, from August 1914 to November 1917, while the period I examined, from the beginning of 1915 until the armistice, lasted approximately 2.95 years.

The figure of 2.4 years may correspond to the period from the beginning of the war to the end of 1916. However, it does not correspond to the full period covered by the casualty figures used, and disregarding 1917 as a low casualty year would be a mistake as we can observe in official casualty records.

The resulting annual figure is therefore inflated by more than 40%...

At first glance, the calculation appears to divide whole-war losses by 2.4 years instead of 3.4. I believe this was an honest mistake, but it nevertheless led to the wrongful criticism of an accurate calculation. The inflated result comes from the incorrect denominator, not from any underestimation on my part.

Golovin assesses approximately 1.86 million total deaths, including around 1.65 million combat deaths. Divided by the right number of years, these figures lead to the annual average of approximately 500,000 total deaths for 1915–1917 that I calculated.

Obviously, these records carry a significant margin of error, as Golovin reconstructed them by cross-referencing several official sources, and himself admitted his total was a mid-point between other analysis and soviet official records. A modest variation is therefore acceptable and does not affect the analytical conclusion.

4. Calculating an attrition ratio solely against the combat element of the Active Army makes little sense.

A combat-troop attrition rate would require deaths to be allocated specifically between combat and support personnel. Dividing all combat deaths by the combat component alone implicitly assumes that every fatality occurred among combat troops, an allocation which available historical figures do not support.

The reader will also note that I never once used the word “attrition” in my original 1st post. This is because I did not attempt to reconstruct the attrition rate suffered by Russian forces as indicated earlier.

5. For a fair comparison, the same method would have to be applied to Russian forces in Ukraine. In other words, one would have to compare total combat deaths with the combat component of the active force deployed in theatre, in this case, the Russian expeditionary force in Ukraine.

Let us use the following assumptions:

• The Russian expeditionary force numbers: approximately 750,000 personnel.

• An estimated 30–50% of combat troops.

• Using the upper estimate of 50%, this produces approximately 375,000 combat troops. (I believe it is probably lower.)

• Claimed annual Russian KIA figures of 200,000–250,000 would therefore be equivalent to 53–67% of the estimated combat component each year.

If we compare this with the calculation presented for WW1, using the corrected annual loss figure of 500,000 men, we obtain:

500,000 ÷ 2.5 million combat troops = 20%.

The fatalities claimed for Russian forces in 2026, without convincing evidence, would therefore be unprecedented and approximately 3 times higher than those suffered by the Imperial Russian Army during WW1, even when calculated solely against the combat component.

The thread then states:

I would say that comparing incomparable indicators is already questionable; doing so while using incorrect data points and making calculation errors is considerably more concerning.

6. When conducting strategic analysis, one must first identify the hypothesis to be tested and then select the appropriate indicator and model structure. In this case, the burden imposed on the military system: what proportion of the average force required to sustain operations must be regenerated each year because of fatalities?

Dividing average annual combat deaths by average force strength provides a useful measure of that burden we can efficiently compare between wars in history. Because figures for irrecoverably wounded personnel, deserters, and prisoners are largely reconstructed or estimated in both conflicts, focusing on combat deaths provides the most consistent basis for comparison, since there is no intent to determine an absolute or exact value.

This is more robust than attempting to reconstruct attrition against the total number of personnel mobilised since 2022, which would depend heavily on uncertain data such as recruitment, rotation, wounded-return etc. estimates.

Understanding this distinction normally requires considerable experience in applied strategic analysis.

The central question thus is: Which indicator is the most appropriate for supporting the argument, and what proportion of documented versus estimated data can be accepted before the result ceases to be sufficiently reliable?

To Summarise:

• The thread incorrectly claims that my estimate of an average total force strength of 6 million men between 1915 and 1917 was wrong, despite Golovin’s figures supporting it.

• It then calculates an attrition ratio, based only on the combat component of the Active Army. A most peculiar attempt.

• The method is inconsistent and contains an apparent calculation error, as losses for the entire war are divided by a period of only 2.4 years instead of 3.4.

• The newly constructed ratio is not applied to the equivalent component of the present-day Russian force in Ukraine to infer conclusions.

More broadly, the thread asks for detailed sourcing for published figures, while recommending some accounts that rely on unverifiable databases, undisclosed samples, or supposedly secret documents that have never been released. It demonstrates that bias can override rational thinking and lead precisely to the analytical errors highlighted above.

In the current information warfare context, it has become increasingly difficult to produce a reliable analytical assessment of the Russian offensive ongoing since late 2023. In order to determine whether 2026 is genuinely showing signs of falling behind previous years, indices remain one of the most relevant tool available for strategic analysis.

Territorial maps remain useful, but they are increasingly insufficient as a measure of offensive performance. They tend to privilege visible advances over attritional effects, lag behind tactical realities in contested grey zones, and obscure the distinction between secondary skirmish sectors and the main operational effort. This is particularly problematic in 2026, where the apparent reduction in the pace of advance does not necessarily imply a reduction in offensive efficiency.

The Russian Offensive Efficiency Index

The following Russian Offensive Efficiency Index was conceived as a composite of the following key military dimensions in attrition warfare:

• personnel loss ratio per captured km²;

• armour loss ratio per captured km².

The use of loss ratios enables the model to abstract from the incompleteness of available data sources, especially in 2026. The lower the total, the more efficient the offensive. The index should therefore be read as a measure of relative offensive efficiency, not as a comprehensive measure of strategic success. A lower value indicates that Russian forces are generating territorial effects at a lower relative cost.

The model uses controlled territory at full weight and grey-zone territory at half weight. For 2026, two variants are used: a standard DeepState-based model and an adjusted model accounting for observable mapping delays, geolocated Russian presence, deeper assault-group movement, and mapping anomalies.

The results are revealing. The index demonstrates that 2025, at 0.90, saw a multiple-fold improvement compared with 2024, at 3.66, a year in which Russian personnel fatalities peaked, likely caused by the intense use of armoured columns. The change of tactics in subsequent years shifted this balance, while the operational situation created by the collapse of the Sudzha pocket offered opportunities for more rapid advances and faster depletion of Ukrainian reserves by autumn of 2025.

So where does 2026 stand? Beyond the distortion of information observed and the undeniable improvements of Ukrainian forces, described at length in a previous article, the index remains extremely close to 2025, at 1.01.

Nevertheless, the captured-terrain dimension, which is a central argument, requires adjustment to account for significant Russian progress in controlled territory and grey zones currently absent from DeepState’s baseline mapping. This results in a significantly improved index of 0.84, indicating that the doctrinal changes introduced by Russian command since the beginning of the year, though yielding less aggressive advances, have had a positive impact on the attrition tempo caused by the ongoing offensive effort.

This complicates claims that Ukraine has taken back the strategic initiative in the conflict. In fact, it confirms previous conclusions that the more aggressive Ukrainian defensive posture, illustrated by the adoption of Russian small-assault-group tactics to contest secondary directions, is generating heavy attrition ratios in almost every category of assets and personnel.

The index therefore raises a second question. If Russian territorial gains appear less dramatic than in 2025, why has offensive efficiency not deteriorated in the same proportion? The answer lies in the changing structure of the front.

The Operational Rationale and Implications of the Index

It has become necessary to point out that the frontline is now split into two types of directions until autumn:

• Skirmish battles: the secondary directions of Zaporizhzhia, Kupyansk, Pokrovsk, and the buffer zones of Kharkiv and Sumy oblasts;

• Offensive effort: the primary push to establish siege lines around the Sloviansk-Kramatorsk agglomeration.

The secondary directions are the site of skirmish clashes between both sides. In some sectors, Russian forces are pushing, while in others, Ukrainian forces are attempting to dislodge them from weak points of secondary importance.

Light assault groups progress between defensive positions to gradually establish waypoints and layered routes into the rear of defensive formations. They reconnoitre supply and rotation routes, drone-unit locations, and reaction-force staging areas, which are then targeted by pre-positioned artillery with firing plans when movement is detected, or flattened by FAB air strikes.

Flag-raising events contribute to this tactical doctrine by forcing Ukrainian reactions to re-enter settlements, which are then observed either by drones or by special forces in hiding. In effect, the goal is less to advance rapidly than to disrupt the Ukrainian deployment, push back observation points and drone units, and pave the way for heavier formations to advance at a later stage.

Over time, this also causes severe attrition to defending units, which translates into the almost on-par casualty ratio observed in OSINT data from Mediazona (4,880 KIA) and UALosses (5,820 KIA once factoring dateless records) to date. If both outlets treatment speed is considered equivalent; it would point toward higher Ukrainian casualties in 2026.

At the edge of those directions, and between Combined Arms Army areas of responsibility, the AFU has been conducting local counter-infiltration operations, mainly around Stepnohirsk, Komar, and Ridkodub. This approach appears to be an adoption of Russian assault tactics.

Based on available footage, it has enabled the reclaiming of a few villages, while several others are contested, for a total area of about 100 km² moved into the grey zone since February. There is, however, little evidence on the ground that firm control has been established.

The fact that these attempts are concentrated in quadrants of low importance to the Russian primary effort, lightly defended and with Russian forces not appearing to rush additional troops to reinforce, mass bombard the areas or react decisively otherwise, points towards a clear decision to let Ukrainian assault units suffer losses for meagre gains. Attrition will ensue.

The hypothesis that Russian command is simply out of troops and cannot respond would be relevant if units had been transferred from other directions to plug gaps or progress in the primary direction had stalled. So far, however, no such move has been recorded, and offensive efforts have not discontinued along the line. It is nonetheless indicative of the low force density in this war: with allegedly 700,000 troops in Ukraine, a third of which are first line units, Russian forces are unable to both concentrate forces toward North Donetsk and heavily man every other direction.

The Primary Direction: Sloviansk-Kramatorsk

In the primary direction, a derivative of those tactics has been adopted, with the aim of making significant advances directly towards the main goal of this phase of military operations: Sloviansk and Kramatorsk.

This is where most Russian gains have occurred, and where maps are about two months late. Kryva Luka and Kalenky, in the Sloviansk direction, were marked as captured by DeepState in late June and July, but flags were raised in March and during the first week of May.

The model could increase the weight of territorial gains there, but for simplicity, not in this version.

The severe vehicle attrition observed can be explained by the constrained logistical routes into the agglomeration, as well as into the besieged city of Kostiantynivka. Once more, defenders find themselves in complex dispositions, dependent on one major axis for supplies. As Russian units and artillery approach, this will further increase the observed imbalance.

Regular armour asset-loss analysis shows that, after the catastrophic losses of 2025, which can be explained by the collapse of the Sudzha pocket and the Pokrovsk cauldron, 2026 shows a slight decrease in Ukrainian losses. Unlike Russian losses, however, they are not at their lowest level since the start of the war, but rather back to 2024 levels, around 1,500 annually if projected.

With the heavy armour fleet having suffered extremely heavy attrition, half of the losses are now lighter armoured vehicles, such as infantry mobility vehicles, which the AFU has in significant numbers and can produce locally. Therefore, despite the ongoing de-mechanisation, Ukrainian forces still lose significantly more assets, of all types, in their defensive effort.

The improvement of the index since 2025 reflects the efficiency of Russian doctrinal changes to adapt to drones and other technological advancements.

In a way, Russian command is accepting minor territorial losses in irrelevant directions to preserve its offensive potential towards the only decisive operational area in Donbas, where it is making gradual and significant gains. At the same time, in crucial secondary directions, it is conducting an intense skirmish battle aimed at long-term benefits, particularly in relation to the future breaching of new defensive lines in the open terrain beyond Zaporizhzhia and Dnipropetrovsk oblast.

The concentration of effort is clearly reflected in the index levels, which incidentally demonstrates the limits of territorial gains as a measure of offensive performance.

Methodology

Territorial data is modelled by weighting controlled territory as 1 and grey-zone territory as 0.5. Recent mapping changes aside, the grey zone, as explained above, is now where the skirmish battle unfolds. It therefore matters at the operational level.

Two models using DeepState data are used for 2026:

• Standard gains: directly using DeepState information;

• Distortion adjustment: obvious delays in updates from the DeepState map do not enable a fully comparative assessment with previous years. A per-sector adjustment has been created to account for this gap and provide a ratio with the same reliability as earlier years.

Everything is based on geolocations, evident movement of assault groups deeper into Ukrainian positions, or mapping anomalies. Refer to the other analysis for specific sector details and to the attached table for the proposed changes:

Overall, 2026 weighted gains are somewhat above 2024 but fall far below 2025 levels. Nevertheless, attrition has improved.

The human-loss index leverages available data on fatalities and missing-in-action cases, reconstructed from reliable OSINT sources, as of June 22nd 2026. Russian MIA figures are based on the current flow of court cases recognising missing soldiers as casualties, distributed with the majority of the weight in 2025 and 2026.

Ukrainian losses are based on the latest UALosses data release. The use of ratios mitigates the incompleteness of databases and removes the need to model total losses. The table summarising the data used confirms that, following a costly 2024, the gap is tightening between both sides.

The armour-loss index comes in two versions: all-inclusive and heavy armour only. It relies on Oryx data.

The correlation between human casualties, armoured losses, and territorial gains becomes interesting in 2026, a year in which, without using armoured vehicles at comparable levels, Russian forces are able to perform better than in 2024.

Moscow’s doctrinal adaptation is interesting in the sense that it enables less costly progress through some of the most fortified sectors of the front while attriting Ukrainian forces favourably. The application of Svechin’s principle of endurance in war is what the index principally demonstrates.

Caveats: A few caveats are necessary.

First, other assets such as artillery are not included. The reason is that the ratio has likewise been favourable to Russia since 2025 and does not affect the current levels of the index in any way that would improve interpretation.

Second, civilian vehicles, from cars to motorbikes and scooters, are largely irrelevant to the war of attrition. Beyond the cost of procuring them, which is negligible compared with armour, they can be purchased on a vast global second-hand (40m units in Asia only every year) and new-vehicle market. The quantities lost in this conflict are anecdotal compared with what can be easily supplied to armed forces.

Moreover, there is no comparable and reliable data on these items, meaning any ratio would be biased or unusable. Overall, it is assessed that both sides suffer significant such losses in comparable amounts. Personnel casualties incurred during their destruction are already covered in the index.

Third, the impact of mid-range strikes on Russian logistics is not modelled separately. Both sides are waging a massive campaign in the 50–200 km band from the frontline. Effects are inherently tied to the ability to pursue combat operations. Therefore, there is no need to model them separately within the index.

For instance, if Russian forces were suffering from major supply issues, artillery would go silent, Rubicon would not be able to operate and inflict growing month-on-month losses, and both primary and secondary directions would falter. The same logic is valid for the Ukrainian side. All of this is directly incorporated in the index through loss ratios and km² gained. Lower supplies basically imply decreased operational tempo.

Conclusion

The index does not support the argument that 2026 is producing a fundamentally underwhelming Russian offensive performance. On the contrary, once mapping distortion and grey-zone dynamics are taken into account, the Russian offensive appears broadly consistent with, and in some respects more efficient than, the 2025 pattern.

This does not mean that Russian advances are spectacular, nor that Ukrainian forces have failed to adapt. It means that territorial gain alone is a poor measure of offensive efficiency in a war of attrition. The more relevant question is whether an army can continue to impose losses, preserve its own offensive potential, and gradually improve its positional situation in the decisive sectors of the front.

On that basis, the Russian effort in 2026 appears less dramatic than in previous phases, but not less effective. Its logic is increasingly one of operational endurance: accepting limited local reverses, avoiding costly mechanised thrusts where possible, and concentrating the decisive effort where the strategic payoff is highest. That, more than raw kilometres gained, is what the index captures.

How those operational changes were forced by Ukraine’s more robust posture this year is hard to tell. Nevertheless, it does not seem the focal point has been reached or that the war can be decided in the coming months.

The point is not that Ukrainian strikes are ineffective since they clearly create disruption, congestion and shortages. However this is not the same as blockade, and route-capacity data suggests that claims of Crimea being cut off should be treated with caution.

Recently released AFU footage and satellite imagery do show damaged to the bridges connecting Crimea to the mainland and strikes on trucks along the highways. Yet, these represent only part of the broader supply chain into the peninsula.

Summer time amplifies the pressure

Summer is an especially favourable period to create visible disruption because tourists can increase the effective population by roughly 25%, and most visitors arrive by road: around 76% by car or bus, including about 61% via the Kerch Bridge. This means tourist traffic shares routes with goods transport, creating congestion and bottlenecks.

In that sense, the summer tourist season is to Crimean logistics what winter is to Ukrainian energy infrastructure: the period when disruption is most visible and politically sensitive. A significant part of the current strain can therefore be attributed to seasonal peak demand.

Estimating supply needs

Crimea has a permanent population of about 1.9 million people. The UN estimates that in an upper-middle-income economy, total material footprint is around 17 tonnes per person per year. Applied to Crimea, that implies a total material requirement of roughly 88,000 tonnes per day.

However, this is total material need, not the volume that must physically be imported from the mainland. Local production or embedded upstream materials, as well as internal distribution all need to be factored in.

For a civilian population of roughly 1.9 million, daily net inbound supply needs from the mainland are likely around 40,000 tonnes per day in a functioning normal situation, after accounting for local production. Local agriculture and construction materials industry in Crimea reduce the need to import some materials, especially grain and quarry products. However, Crimea still depends heavily on external supply for fuel, water, processed foods, machinery parts, consumer goods, and many other industrial inputs.

Route capacity: Kerch, ferries, and the land bridge

On paper, the Kerch Bridge railway alone could cover much of civilian demand under normal conditions. It rail cargo capacity is commonly cited at about 13 million tonnes per year, or roughly 35,600 tonnes per day, while the road bridge was designed for around 40,000 vehicles per day. Together, road and rail on the Kerch Bridge likely provide a theoretical capacity of roughly 40,000–70,000 tonnes per day, although actual wartime throughput may be constrained by inspections and strike risks.

The Kerch ferry system, when functioning well remains meaningful: May 2024 observations suggest roughly 10,000–16,000 tonnes per day equivalent. In one reported five-day period, 70 two-way ferry crossings moved 2,432 road vehicles, 436 rail cars, and 3,678 people, equal to roughly 486 vehicles and 87 rail cars per day.

The occupied-territory land bridge, now including both road and rail routes, is harder to quantify but plausibly provides around 20,000–40,000 tonnes per day under normal wartime functioning.

Crimea’s dry-cargo port capacity is meaningful but limited. Feodosia’s commercial port is listed at up to 2 million tonnes per year of dry cargo, Kerch at up to 3 million tonnes directly at berths, and Evpatoria/Donuzlav at around 3.3 million tonnes of installed capacity. This gives a notional dry-cargo port capacity of roughly 8.3 million tonnes per year, or about 23,000 tonnes per day annualized.

Air freight can be slightly increased, but cremains too limited to cover bulk supply needs. Meanwhile, commercial port expansion at Sevastopol is under construction and will not be online for several more years.

Overall, the combined capacity of the main general-freight routes can be estimated at roughly 75,500–150,000 tonnes per day, excluding the Feodosia fuel terminal as a separate petroleum-specific channel.

Feodosia terminal and the fuel situation

A separate issue is the Feodosia oil terminal, one of Crimea’s key petroleum-handling nodes and reportedly the largest marine oil-products storage facility. With port, storage, and rail infrastructure, Feodosia has played an important role in receiving, storing, and redistributing fuel for the peninsula and for Russian military logistics in southern Ukraine.After repeated strikes, several key parts of its infrastructure appear to have been damaged or shut down. Its nominal capacity is estimated at up to 33,000 tonnes per day, but this is petroleum-specific capacity, not general freight, and it overlaps with the above described freight routes.

Feodosia shows that not only Crimea had substantial specialized fuel-handling capacity, but that disruption of this specialized infrastructure can create visible shortages even when aggregate route capacity remains high, until the logistics operations can be recalibrated.

Capacity exceeds supply needs

Crimea’s civilian population needs can be supported by one major high-capacity route under favorable conditions, but the broader civilian-military system requires multiple routes operating simultaneously to minimize risks and congestions otherwise wartime disruption can quickly generate congestion, and rerouting costs.

Aggregate route capacity appears to exceed essential civilian needs by a substantial margin. Nonetheless, factoring in the military demands of the conflicts, the margin is narrower and depends on several routes remaining usable.

That is the core point: the available route-capacity data does not support claims that Crimea is close to being decisively cut off. If Ukrainian strikes can impose real costs by damaging bridges, disrupting fuel hubs, or forcing rerouting, the evidence points to disruption rather than an imminent blockade.

Historical context: Crimea has been logistically strained before

Crimea was supplied from 2014 to 2019 largely by ferry and air freight before the Kerch Bridge gradually took over. Observers often forget that the current situation is neither entirely new nor necessarily unmanageable. For the first five years after annexation, Crimea was already under severe logistical constraint, including Ukraine’s blockade and the cutoff of access to Dnipro water via the North Crimean Canal.

Over the past two years, Russia has increasingly prioritized the occupied land bridge over Kerch for military logistics. This makes sense from a supply-chain perspective because the road and rail corridors along the occupied territories allow distribution to military hubs along the Sea of Azov before reaching Crimea as a rear supply base.

Additionally, the bridges, ferry systems, and oil infrastructure of the peninsula have been repeatedly hit since the start of the war. The current operation is neither unprecedented, nor likely to be change the course of the war.

We should therefore expect a renewed use of the Kerch Bridge for selected military logistics and a ramp-up of ferry transport where possible. These remain vulnerable choke points and will require additional air-defense, counter-drone, and naval-defense assets.

The real objective of the Ukrainian strikes

As with strikes on Russian refineries, which have had limited direct macroeconomic impact but meaningful operational effects, it is unlikely that Ukrainian command expects this campaign to cut Crimea off outright.

The more plausible objective is to force Russia to allocate manpower and defensive assets to protect these routes, create temporary disruption, generate congestion, and divert focus away from offensive operations, particularly in Donbas.

The current strain on logistics is serious and will likely be addressed by Russian command because it affects a previously fluid distribution network around the Sea of Azov. Nonetheless, based on available route-capacity data, there is currently little evidence of a medium- to long-term risk to Crimean general supplies, despite some issues on fuel availability for civilians.

Conclusion: adaptation and information warfare demystification

As in previous phases of the war, Russian forces are likely to adapt over time by expanding counter-drone units, interceptor drones, SHORAD deployments, nets, camouflage, dispersion of stocks, and fragmenting distribution methods.

In this context, route-capacity data suggests that hopes of fully cutting off the peninsula are far-fetched. More extravagant claims should be understood as part of information warfare rather than as a realistic assessment of a concrete military outcome.

If there is one principle to apply when writing about this war, it is measure and composure; to avoid drawing conclusions from individual operations that go beyond what the available evidence can support.

Ukrainian strikes against Crimean logistics are meaningful because they impose costs, and force adaptation. But the available data does not yet support claims that Crimea is being blockaded or is close to becoming unsupplied in any decisive way.

Bibliography

• United Nations Statistics Division. “Goal 12.” The Sustainable Development Goals Report 2019. https://unstats.un.org/sdgs/report/2019/goal-12/

• Centre for Eastern Studies. “The Opening of the Bridge from Russia to Crimea.” OSW, 16 May 2018.
  https://www.osw.waw.pl/en/publikacje/analyses/2018-05-16/opening-bridge-russia-to-crimea

• “‘Sustained Growth in Flows’: It Became Known How Many Tourists Vacationed in Crimea in 2025.” Ruinformer, 2025.
  https://ruinformer.com/page/ustojchivyj-rost-potoka-stalo-izvestno-skolko-turistov-otdohnuli-v-krymu-v-2025-godu

• “Ferry Crossings Over Kerch Strait: Throughput and Importance of This Russian Logistics Vein in Crimea.” Defense Express, 29 May 2024.
  https://en.defence-ua.com/news/ferry_crossings_over_kerch_strait_throughput_and_importance_of_this_russian_logistics_vein_in_crimea-10742.html

• “Russia Plans Commercial Container and Cargo Port for Crimea Near Sevastopol.” The Maritime Executive, 27 March 2024.
  https://maritime-executive.com/article/russia-plans-commercial-container-and-cargo-port-for-crimea-near-sevastopol

• Crimean ports data: https://crimeaports.ru/en/affiliates/

However, a closer examination of the data suggests that the campaign has had limited strategic impact on one of Russia’s primary centers of gravity: its ability to finance the war through mineral-resource exports.

This analysis evaluates that claim by examining the contribution of different export categories to Russian federal revenues and modelling the impact of refinery disruptions using average data from 2022–2025 as a baseline1.

This leads to a straightforward conclusion: while the campaign has imposed operational costs and temporary disruptions, its direct impact on Russia’ war-financing capacity remains limited. Even under conservative assumptions, the effect is approximately 1% of federal revenues after accounting for crude-oil substitution2. Furthermore, rising oil prices in 2026 are likely to more than offset these losses.

This raises an important question: if the campaign is not materially impairing Russia’s ability to finance the war, what possible purpose does it serve?

The answer appears to lie primarily in the political and operational domains rather than the economic one.

Why Ukraine Is Conducting the Campaign

The assumption that refinery strikes are primarily intended to cripple the Russian economy is not supported by the available evidence. Instead, the campaign appears to pursue two more realistic objectives.

First, it reinforces the narrative that Ukraine retains strategic initiative and can strike deep inside Russia. This strategic messaging remains important in sustaining Western political support and securing continued military assistance. Despite recent European financing packages, significant funding gaps exists in Ukraine’s medium-term military requirements, making continued international support essential. (See: NATO ongoing initiatives to secure an additional $40 billion)

Second, the campaign forces Russia to divert scarce air-defense assets, personnel, and logistical resources away from the front. This objective is increasingly visible in parallel, as Ukrainian strikes against logistics hubs and infrastructure in occupied territories.

Viewed through this lens, the campaign’s success should be measured less by economic damage and more by its contribution to political signaling and resource diversion.

Russia’s War Economy Is Built on Resource Exports

Russia’s wartime resilience rests on its ability to generate export revenues and convert those revenues into fiscal resources. Between 2022 and 2025, resource exports accounted for approximately 69% of Russian exports.

This export structure highlights an important reality:

Any strategy intended to undermine Russia’s ability to finance the war must therefore reduce aggregate resource-export revenues, more specifically crude oil’s, instead of merely disrupting the refining capacity.

Not All Export Revenues Contribute Equally to the Budget

Export revenues and budget revenues are not equivalent in each category: Oil and gas exports contribute disproportionately to federal revenues because they are subject to mineral extraction taxes, export-related duties, excess-profit mechanisms, and state-company dividends.

Moreover, crude oil generally generates a higher fiscal return than refined petroleum products, which is reflected in Russia's tax architecture3. Using average federal revenue data since 2022, the Russian federal budget can be approximated as follows:

Oil and gas revenues accounted for approximately 31.2% of federal revenues on average between 2022 and 2025. The breakdown between crude oil, products, and gas is not published by Moscow and is therefore modelled using average export revenues and relative fiscal yields across sectors.

The key finding is that refined products contribute only around 8.3% of federal revenues, which significantly limits the fiscal leverage of refinery strikes.

What Happened in April 2026?

According to International Energy Agency data, Russian crude exports in April 2026 were broadly in line with the four-year average and approximately 5% higher than in January 2026.T his suggests that attacks on export infrastructure had little effect on Russia’s ability to export its primary revenue-generating commodity.

The story is different for refined-product exports that fell by approximately 23% compared with January 2026. Relative to the 2022–2025 average, the decline was approximately 24%.

The impact on operations is undeniable, nevertheless, operational disruption does not necessarily translate into strategic effect.

Quantifying the Budget Impact

At constant prices, a 24% decline in refined-product exports implies approximately a 2% reduction in federal revenues, before accounting for substitution effects.

At first glance, this appears meaningful. However, the calculation assumes that lost refining output disappears entirely from export markets though in practice, this is not what happens. When refinery throughput declines, crude oil is not simply stockpiled or destroyed. A significant portion is redirected toward crude exports. This dynamic is visible in April 2026, where crude exports increased despite lower product exports.

Because crude oil also generates a higher fiscal return per dollar of export revenue than refined products, the substitution effect materially reduces the net budget impact. After accounting for this redirection of volumes, the estimated impact falls below 1% of federal revenues.

Using average federal revenues and exchange rates since 2022, this corresponds to roughly $4 billion, or, for comparison, ~2.7% of Russia’s estimated 2025 defense budget. While not negligible, it falls well short of a level capable of threatening Russia’s ability to sustain military operations.

Oil Prices Matter More Than Refinery Damage

The average Brent price between 2022 and 2025 was approximately $83.1 per barrel. Current market expectations place the 2026 average at approximately $90.4 per barrel, an increase of roughly 8.8%.

Consequently, the increase in oil revenues from higher prices in 2026 are likely to exceed the losses associated with refinery disruptions. In other words, even if refinery attacks continue to reduce product exports, higher oil prices may more than compensate for the resulting revenue losses. This further reduces the campaign’s ability to generate meaningful economic pressure.

Conclusion

Ukraine’s deep-strike campaign has been operationally impressive and politically significant. It has demonstrated inventiveness, imposed costs, and exposed vulnerabilities within Russia’s strategic infrastructure. Yet, it has not materially affected Russia’s economic center of gravity.

Resource exports continue to account for the majority of Russian export earnings, while refined petroleum products contribute only an estimated ~8.3% of federal revenues. Even substantial disruptions to refinery output therefore produce relatively modest fiscal effects.

The April 2026 case illustrates this dynamic clearly: product exports declined significantly, but increased crude exports offset much of the loss, reducing the estimated impact to around 1% of federal revenues or less.

The campaign’s greatest strategic contribution therefore lies less in economic attrition than in political signaling. It reinforces perceptions of Russian vulnerability, sustains international support for Ukraine, and forces Russia to allocate resources to homeland defense. As an instrument of economic warfare, however, its effects remain limited.

Bibliography:

• CREA – Russia Fossil Fuel Tracker: https://energyandcleanair.org/publication/russia-fossil-fuel-tracker/

• International Energy Agency (IEA) – Oil Market Reports: https://www.iea.org/reports/oil-market-report

• Russian Ministry of Finance – Federal Budget and Oil & Gas Revenue Reports: https://minfin.gov.ru

• Russian Central Bank – External Sector and Balance of Payments Statistics:

  https://www.cbr.ru

• UN Comtrade Database: https://comtradeplus.un.org

• World Bank WITS Trade Database: https://wits.worldbank.org

• IMF Direction of Trade Statistics (DOTS): https://data.imf.org

• Oxford Institute for Energy Studies (OIES): https://www.oxfordenergy.org/wpcms/wp-content/uploads/2024/03/Follow-the-Money-Russian-Oil.pdf

• BOFIT (Bank of Finland Institute for Emerging Economies): https://www.bofit.fi

• Bruegel – Russian Fossil Fuel Revenue Analysis: https://www.bruegel.org

• U.S. Energy Information Administration (EIA): https://www.eia.gov

• Federal Reserve Economic Data (FRED) – Brent Crude Series: https://fred.stlouisfed.org/series/DCOILBRENTEU

• Reuters – Russian Budget, Oil & Gas Revenues and Oil Market Forecasts: https://www.reuters.com

• SIPRI – Military Expenditure Database: https://www.sipri.org/databases/milex

• Kpler – Seaborne Crude and Product Export Data: https://www.kpler.com

According to the proposal reported by Politico’s article “NATO allies weigh new €70B military aid pledge for Ukraine”, €30 billion would come from the EU’s already agreed €90 billion two-year loan to Ukraine, while an additional €40 billion would be drawn from bilateral commitments. The conclusion underlines the severity of Ukraine’s financial position if the war effort is to be sustained:

“Adding the bilateral support on top of that loan is absolutely crucial.”

In practical terms, the €90 billion EU loan would subsequently shift to cover more state expenditure, far from the initial assumption that roughly two-thirds of the envelope would be directed toward defense. Without additional layers of support, Ukraine risks running out of funds somewhere around mid-2027 at the current pace.

If this package materializes, total Western support for 2026–2027, once EU funds, bilateral aid, IMF-related support and other financing lines are included, could move into the €160+ billion range. This confirms that Ukraine is operating inside a structural dependency model in which military capability, state continuity and Western political messaging have become inseparable.

Needless to say, if Europe has stepped up in 2025, there remains growing uncertainties about long term support amounts, which averaged €75 Billion/year since 2022.

The financial dimension has a direct operational consequence. Such an envelope is likely to support not only conventional ammunition flows and force regeneration, but also the continued expansion of Ukraine’s deep-strike campaign. This matters because long-range strike has become one of Kyiv’s few remaining ways to impose costs on Russia beyond the immediate line of contact, particularly at a time when manpower, air defense, artillery stocks and mobilization capacity remain under severe pressure.

More importantly, the residual gap of roughly €40 billion that this program would cover corresponds almost exactly to the 2026 funding shortfall I identified in my previous analysis in La Vigie, Ukraine: le piège du choix rationnel, where I argued that the war has become, perversely, the mechanism through which the Ukrainian state remains financially solvent in the medium term.

This is a crucial point, because it rationalizes the ongoing narrative push to frame the battlefield situation as if Ukraine had reversed the strategic tide more decisively than it actually has. Since the Dnipropetrovsk counterattacks in February, the picture has been heavily distorted, as I outlined in my previous analysis below:

This communication architecture culminated this week with President Zelensky’s open letter calling for a ceasefire on the current lines, which Moscow rejected. In an obvious manner, the letter was primarily aimed at Ukraine’s supporters. It was deliberately provocative, directly threatening, and marked by a form of overstated bravado that can serve only one objective: to reassure potential partners that their investment is less risky than it actually is. It read, in that sense, like a well-written start-up plan aimed at investors, and not at a diplomatic effort to initiate peace talks.

This posture is easy to understand, and largely rational, when placed against the bleaker operational situation on the battlefield compared with what is often described.

In the current context, this entire apparatus is perfectly justified as part of a strategy to continue waging the war. It can even be argued that Ukraine still clearly has the upper hand on the communication front. Nevertheless, this should not obscure the fact that every passing month further deteriorates the economic and social front, while rendering post-war options increasingly opaque.

A deeper reading of available OSINT data tells a different story: a growing asset-loss gap, territorial gains that remain broadly comparable to previous years, and significant personnel casualties which, when framed within both sides’ operational plans, produce a more coherent and nuanced picture. Ukrainian forces have indeed managed to recover during the winter. At the tactical level, they are in a better position than they were at the same time last year. They have restored front-line density, intensified counter-assault activity, improved their ability to clear Russian forward elements, and expanded their deep-strike campaign.

Nevertheless, the strategic picture has continued to deteriorate steadily. Damage remains asymmetric, financing prospects are uncertain, the demographic and mobilization burden is deepening, and the overall direction of the war has not shifted. This distinction is essential, because much of the current debate confuses the ability to resist more effectively with the ability to reverse the underlying trajectory of the war.

This analysis will therefore proceed in several steps. First, it will explain why 2025 is a misleading baseline and why the collapse of the Kursk/Sudzha pocket distorted subsequent comparisons. Second, it will show how mobilization has underpinned Ukraine’s tactical stabilization, but at mounting social and demographic cost. Third, it will examine the mapping illusion behind claims of a slower Russian advance. Fourth, it will review the main sectors where Russian progress is operationally significant. Finally, it will assess the attrition balance, deep-strike asymmetry, and Russia’s evolving posture.

I. The Operational Situation - Why 2025 Distorts the Comparison

If we return to the core of the operational situation by May 2025 and compare it with both 2024 and 2026, we must place at the center of the analysis the tremendous impact that the collapse of the Kursk pocket in March 2025 had on Ukraine’s ability to contain Russian offensive efforts during the rest of the year.

Many observers greatly underestimate the destabilization caused by such a hasty retreat: the pressure it placed on force availability, the difficulty of regeneration, and the loss of men and materiel. UALosses references 16,399 KIA for Ukrainian forces during this operation. The better-trained maneuver elements were, by April, essentially rendered combat ineffective.

This amplified manpower issues on the Donbas front, deepened fatigue, and reduced the availability of counter-attack assault units. Part of the higher pace of Russian advance that year can be tied to this victory, including the relative ease with which, facing undermanned Ukrainian units in the autumn, Russian forces captured roughly 600 km² up to Huliaipole.

The onset of winter and its unfavorable weather coincided with increased mobilization and the return of replenished units, enabling the stabilization of the front and preventing exploitation after the capture of three key cities: Pokrovsk, Huliaipole, and Stepnohirsk. A few additional months of summer conditions could have been devastating.

In that sense, 2026 should be understood as unfolding closer to 2024 than to the very peculiar year of 2025: better-prepared Ukrainian forces, focused on defending their core front lines, better supplied, and regrouped. The first lesson so far is therefore methodological. The visible improvement in 2026 does not prove that Ukraine has reversed the war. It proves that Ukraine has recovered from the specific operational shock of 2025 and returned to a more coherent defensive model.

The second lesson is operational. Ukraine has centered this year’s plan on defense and has ceased the adventurous offensive actions which, both in 2023 and 2024, led to strategic defeat and worsened its overall strategic posture. Whether by choice or imposed by limitations, this is a rational adaptation; it does not, however, alter the deeper balance of the war.

II. Mobilization: The Foundation of Tactical Stabilization

There are no official figures, for obvious national security reasons, but the general trend seems to confirm that the AFU have accelerated mobilization efforts since late 2024, following the law lowering the recruitment age to 25.

This is a critical element underlying the stabilization visible this year. Despite pervasive personnel shortages, the situation has greatly improved. Assault units have been replenished and freed to operate from the rear, conducting numerous counter-attacks across the front to clear Russian gains and prevent consolidation. Front-line positions are better manned, complicating infiltration. Drone units are operating at full capacity. This has been amplified by the rise of UGVs for resupply, freeing additional personnel for combat missions.

Nevertheless, this has come at a significant cost for the country’s demography and could only be achieved through a harsher mobilization regime. Videos of “busification” have become a daily occurrence as complaints have grown:

“According to the Human Rights Commissioner, Dmytro Lubinets, 18 complaints were registered in 2022, 514 in 2023, 3,312 in 2024, and in 2025 nearly twice as many as the previous year, reaching 6,127 complaints.”

At the same time, attacks on TCC officers are rising sharply: 5 in 2022, 38 in 2023, 118 in 2024, 341 in 2025, and 117 in the first four months of 2026. This testifies as much to the acceleration of mobilization as to the harsh reality of how it is now conducted.

Some observers still believe that the men being seized in the streets are simply draft dodgers who ignored their summons. This may sometimes be true, but what is often ignored is the fact that TCC officers are now authorized to issue summonses directly in public spaces to eligible men and to bring conscripts back. This follows Resolution 560 of 16 May 2024.

Point 35 states:

“Summonses are served to reservists and conscripts around the clock at the address of their place of residence or the address of their declared/registered place of residence, work, study, in public places, public buildings and structures, places of mass gathering of people, territorial recruitment and social support centres, at checkpoints (blockposts), and checkpoints across the state border of Ukraine.”

This is obviously a grey area. The point here is not to debate whether this course of action is right or wrong, since the country is at war and requires personnel to sustain the fight. However, the correlation between tougher mobilisation practices and the visible increase in personnel availability on the front line has to be noted.

III. The Illusion of Slower Advances

To understand the current operations, we must address the supposed slower pace of Russian advance and the claimed recovery of tactical initiative by the AFU.

I want to make clear that what follows is not a criticism of DeepState, which is following perfectly normal instructions from the Ministry of Defence with regard to operational security. It is not DeepState’s responsibility if analysts and observers fail to make their own assessment of the situation or to use their judgement by cross-checking multiple sources in order to describe the reality on the ground.

The limits of over categorizing the types of advance has blurred the analysis and do not seem to describe events more precisely than in earlier years.

A look at territorial gains between 1 January and 21 May shows 2026 as being somewhere between the two previous years:

• 598 km² in 2024;

• 1,022 km² in 2025, excluding Kursk;

• 700 km² in 2026.

Referring back to the operational comparison above, there is, at first glance, nothing extraordinary this year. The trend is closer to 2024, although part of the captured area lies along the Sumy border. A closer look at several sectors, however, reveals concerning inconsistencies. These point both to changes in mapping conventions that minimize visible Russian gains and to opacity in updates for operational-security reasons.

This is especially relevant because many of the advances on the Donetsk front are now in extremely critical sectors, less than 15 km from Sloviansk and Kramatorsk. From an operational standpoint, it would make sense for AFU command not to allow rapid map updates while conducting intense counter-attacks. Nonetheless, the assessment is that around 250 km² of Russian-controlled or grey-zone territory is simply not represented. If this is added to the 700 km² already mapped, the picture changes significantly. Russian forces have been advancing at roughly the same pace as in 2025, especially when taking into account the grey-zone mapping convention changes observed since then.

This is not an exact calculation of the gap between maps, but a reasonable estimate of areas that have clearly become contested since January and are often overlooked in recent observations. What follows is neither exhaustive nor a perfect representation of the situation. It aims to show some of the major battlefield changes that occurred from late April to late May this year and have yet to be fully transposed into maps.

Regarding mapping conventions and storytelling, I refer the reader to a paper I wrote some time ago. I continue to rely on those doctrinal principles when assessing ground control or contested areas.

IV. Sector Evidence: The Front Is Not Static

The following sectors matter because they show that Russian progress is occurring in operationally significant directions. The central issue is therefore not only the total number of square kilometers gained, but their location, the defensive geometry they affect, and the cost paid to contest them. (Maps from DeepState)

1. Rai Oleksandrivka: The Sloviansk Approach

The outlined area shows a twisted gray zone that makes little sense on the ground. The total area is 54 km², only half of which is even marked as gray zone. Recent video footage shows Russian assault troops clearing dugouts in broad daylight less than 2 km south of the village of Rai Oleksandrivka, the critical defensive node on the approach to Sloviansk, as it enables control over the tactical heights overlooking the city.

Russian 88th and 123rd Motor Rifle Brigades control the ravine and must next attempt to entrench on the high ground in order to seize the town. By any reasonable standard, clearing dugouts in daylight is not DRG or infiltration work, but the sign of a more serious assault presence.

Multiple flag raisings in the vicinity of Krivaya Luka on 9 May, further north, together with several other geolocations in the area since then, attest to significant Russian progress in their action out of Siversk over the past four weeks. This is a preparatory battle for Sloviansk, not an isolated local action.

2. Kramatorsk Direction: Control East of the Canal

In this direction, it is easy to notice on the map the pattern used to minimize control and gained square kilometers. This may be perfectly understandable in the circumstances and in light of narrative requirements, but the situation deserves closer examination.

We can see five gray zones, mostly open ground between thin strips of Russian-controlled territory centered on villages. These areas lie east of the canal, such as the treelines between Novomarkove and Minkivka. From a purely military standpoint, any remaining Ukrainian presence contesting this area would likely be a rear guard, a left-behind element, or troops in hiding, with an extremely complex retreat route under crossfire and small-arms range. From a doctrinal mapping perspective, such a presence does not negate control. Barring ongoing counter-attacks, of which we have no evidence, these areas could represent up to 30 km² of unmapped Russian control.

The location of these advances also matters in both directions. They pave the way for the decisive battles of the Donbas front.

Between 1 January and 21 May, the distance between the Russian FLOT and the cities of Sloviansk and Kramatorsk shrank respectively from 25 km to 16 km, and from 17 km to 12 km. This increasingly places both cities under drone coverage and tube-artillery range. It also demonstrates an advance of almost 10 km in five months in what is considered the most important sector of the front, where Ukrainian forces are not regaining the initiative.

The importance of this sector lies less in the number of square kilometres gained than in the compression of Ukraine’s defensive depth around the central Donbas urban belt.

3. Huliaipole: Pressure on the Southern Defensive System

This is a direction where Russian forces have recently increased pressure. Multiple recent geolocations across the entire sector, marked on the map and outlined, attest to a growing assault-unit presence, most recently with multiple flags raised in Verkhnia Tersa on 21 May across the defensive line. (Source: Creamy Caprice )

Accounting for the recent confirmed presence of Russian troops, this represents a 70 km² area, less than half of which is even marked as gray zone. As in the previous cases, delayed updates can distort perception, but recent evidence shows that the sector is far from idle. The entire area has become the epicenter of intense fighting between modern skirmish lines, as can be seen in the satellite imaging with numerous sign of artillery bombardment and combat operations.

Every time Russian assault units manage to push further and disrupt rear strongholds, if Ukrainian assault units cannot intervene in time, a vacuum is created for more infantry to move forward and increase density inside the gray zone. Over time, this threatens control of the entire area.

This does not even take into account the furthest advances up to Novoselivka, which at present do not appear to have been consolidated into a firm entrenched presence and may have been cleared.

Furthermore, the expected capture of Verkhnia Tersa and the foothold in Huliaipilske put Russian forces 13 km from Omelnyk, a town critical to Orikhiv’s supply lines. The Huliaipole sector is therefore not idle. It is becoming a pressure point against the wider southern defenses.

4. Kupiansk and the Eastern Oskil Pocket

The situation around Kupiansk has been shrouded in fog of war since last December, with uncertainty over whether Russian presence persisted or not. A focus on the eastern Oskil bank in recent weeks has shown numerous geolocations of forward assault units up to Kivsharivka on 21 May, and again around 20 May in the centre of Kupiansk-Vuzlovyi.

An entire area of roughly 100 km², consisting of open fields with few treelines, where DRGs and assault teams are clearly operating, should at least be marked as gray zone to reflect its contested status. Kivsharivka lies 7 km from the most forward acknowledged Russian position. There is little logic in assault groups aiming for it if they do not have some degree of control and entrenchment in the intervening treelines, or if Kurylivka has not been invested by Russian forces.

Kurylivka was reached by Russian units in October 2025 but subsequently cleared by counter-attacks. However, a geolocated Vampire drone strike on 18 May confirmed renewed Russian presence. This is consistent with a serious attempt to secure the chain of towns along the Oskil River south of Kupiansk.

Seen through this prism, unsubstantiated claims that Ukraine retook 400 km² during the Dnipropetrovsk counter-attacks in February, or that the AFU have retaken net ground over the past two months, as reported by several media outlets, cannot be reconciled with the available evidence.

Taken together, these sectors contradict the notion of a Russian offensive that has stalled in any meaningful operational sense. The advance is slow, costly, and dispersed, but it remains directional, and in several areas it is occurring precisely where the consequences would be most significant.

The Ukrainian command has improved its overall situation for the time being and performs better at clearing advanced assault teams, thereby reducing the “strategic ambiguity” created by multiple infiltrations along the front. This is the modern skirmish-line battle under the cover of drones.

It has reduced Russian freedom of action in several sectors, but it has not altered the direction of the campaign. More importantly, it is being achieved at a price that weakens future force generation. This is the central ambiguity of Ukraine’s 2026 campaign.

V. The Growing Attrition Gap

The asymmetry in armor losses in favor of Russia is a trend that began exactly twelve months ago and has worsened in 2026.

Since January, based on raw Oryx data, Ukraine has been losing three times more armored vehicles, and almost twice as many if infantry mobility vehicles, which now represent 50% of the total, are excluded. The situation is no better in artillery, with an approximate 2:1 ratio. The curves crossed in June 2025 and have not reversed since. It has worsened: in April, Ukraine sustained five times higher armored losses than Russia.

Russian armor usage has become sporadic and has fallen to its lowest levels of the war, often below 50 vehicles per month. Ukrainian heavy-armor losses have slightly decreased but remain close to 100 per month.

It is now widely acknowledged that Russia’s armoured-vehicle fleet has regained its pre-war levels, with batches of new production, from T-90M tanks to BTR-82s, regularly seen exiting plants. For what purpose remains difficult to say. However, this supports the view that Russian command has made a deliberate choice to limit armour use in Ukraine to a bare minimum for the time being as part of an evolving doctrine. Preference is given to small assault units and skirmish-line contact to achieve incremental gains while imposing heavy attrition on Ukrainian forces, especially on their critical systems.

Ukraine’s defensive doctrine has also evolved. It now seeks to defend behind heavily fortified lines in open ground and to rely on a network of small towns from which to launch counter-attacks or mopping-up operations. This approach requires speed and high mobility to prevent enemy consolidation and entrenchment of sizeable forces on tactical objectives, particularly where drones cannot suffice or where anti-drone activity limits their use.

In doing so, it exposes armored vehicles during cross-village movements and last-mile deployments. The increased tempo of such counter-attacks across the front has prevented breakthrough and has indeed slightly limited Russian advances. But the cost in materiel is rising, with the expenditures associated with greater IMV maneuver becoming increasingly visible.

Personnel attrition is a sensitive topic and can only be assessed directionally on the basis of available data from Mediazona and UA Losses.

At first glance, preliminary and very incomplete information is alarming. UALosses records 2,905 confirmed Ukrainian fatalities for 2026 as of mid-May, while Mediazona stands at 2,360. The latest Mediazona update of 23 May lists 2,866 KIA, but it appears to be around one month ahead of UALosses at the time of writing.

In addition, the official Ukrainian MIA database already contains 10,191 entries for 2026 pertaining to soldiers who disappeared in combat zones, compared with 12,209 entries remaining for the same period in 2025 as of today.

By comparison, around the same time last year, Mediazona recorded approximately 1,900 KIA on the Russian side, although their processing methodology has improved since then. This can therefore be considered a level broadly similar to 2026. UALosses had also recorded around 3,500 names for 2025 by early May.

Without conducting any specific modelling of this data, it supports the hypothesis that front-line activity is causing extremely severe personnel attrition on both sides.

OSINT data points toward the AFU suffering slightly higher personnel losses and three times higher asset losses than Russian forces in 2026. Even allowing for a margin of error, this remains a significant argument against using map changes alone to assess the operational situation. It does not support claims of decimated Russian forces unable to advance or replenish their ranks.

The operational picture is therefore not one of Ukrainian initiative dislocating Russian operations, but one of Ukrainian defensive activity absorbing heavy personnel and asset costs.

VI. Deep Strike: Visibility, Volume, and Damage Asymmetry

One area where Ukraine has visibly improved is its strategic deep-strike campaign. But here again, the distinction between visibility, volume, and strategic effect is essential.

On this issue, I would refer first to the analysis published by La Vigie in order to understand the current discrepancy in volumes and damage inflicted:

L’attaque ukrainienne du 16-17 mai 2026

Ukraine has increased its strike volumes through for instance Lyutyi drones and can now come close to parity in volume with Russian Gerans. However, available evidence suggests that Russian air defense is performing relatively well and minimizing damage to core infrastructure.

As Olivier Dujardin noted:

“Il faut reconnaître que la défense anti-aérienne russe apparaît redoutablement efficace, même si cette efficacité repose sur un très grand nombre de systèmes de défense de tous types. On est alors très loin de l’image d’une défense anti-aérienne russe défaillante, telle qu’elle est parfois présentée dans certains médias.”

In this context, the failure to ramp up Flamingo missile production is a root cause of the discrepancy in damage inflicted. As seen in the massive 24 May strike on Kyiv, involving more than 100 missiles of all types and low interception rates, or during the campaign against the electrical grid in the winter of 2026, drones are excellent tools for saturating air defense. Their explosive load, however, is insufficient to cause serious and lasting damage to large industrial infrastructure.

The 24 May event also showed that Russia retains the ability to scale up its strike packages, even if it had been holding back in previous months to replenish strategic stocks.

Until this gap in Ukrainian capacity can be filled at scale, Ukraine will not only lag behind in its ability to cripple Russia’s industrial base; the damage asymmetry as a percentage of GDP will remain enormous.

Reuters estimated that direct damage to Ukrainian infrastructure amounted to about $20 billion in 2025, or $1.6 billion per month. This is equivalent to roughly 10% of the country’s GDP and compounds every year, currently raising the reconstruction bill by $64 billion annually.

There are no audited figures for Russia, but damage is mainly concentrated around oil and gas infrastructure and, increasingly, military-industrial facilities. Based on strike volumes, it can be assessed at roughly $1 billion per month in direct infrastructure damage.

In theory, both figures are relatively close. But as a percentage of GDP, the asymmetry becomes clear: Ukraine suffers an impact roughly twenty times higher as a share of its economy.

Looking at indirect damage from the strike campaign against Russian oil export terminals, the latest revenue and export-volume data show very limited impact on lifting operations. Crude volumes remain up in 2026 versus 2025 by 0.17 million barrels per day and were also up month-on-month in April, as some shipments departed from non-Baltic ports. (Source: IEA)

This is inherent to the nature of oil lifting operations, which are difficult to interrupt decisively. They are not continuous like pipelines, and loading a tanker two or three days late has limited operational impact.

Oil-product exports suffered more due to refinery downtime, down 0.64 million barrels per day compared with 2025. This can be seen as the main achievement so far, but it is hardly grounds for declarations of victory. Degrading Russian oil exports to critical levels would require hundreds of missiles per month and the ability to disrupt Pacific routes out of Kozmino as well. This is currently beyond any Western power, as the recent Iran crisis demonstrated.

Ukraine’s deep-strike campaign is operationally impressive and politically significant, but it has not yet altered the strategic economic balance. The visibility of Ukrainian strikes should not be confused with strategic symmetry of damage.

VII. The Evolution of Russian Posture

Since mid-2025, Ukraine has begun targeting Russia’s main center of gravity: its ability to fund the war autonomously through oil and mineral exports. As outlined in the previous section, the results have been underwhelming so far. With the sudden doubling of oil prices following the war in the Middle East, not only has the hurdle for Kyiv to threaten Russian funding increased radically, but Moscow has also strengthened its position and funding capacity as it approaches mid-2026. Ironically, it is Moscow’s own monetary policy causing strong ruble appreciation that is impacting negatively the export profits.

At the operational level, there has recently been extensive debate about how Ukrainian forces are targeting logistics along the highway crossing the land bridge to Crimea. Dozens of trucks and vehicles have been hit 50 to 100 km from the front line. Although this is not new, the growth of this mid-range drone capability can cause serious challenges for Russian logistics if left unaddressed, and may force Moscow to divert anti-drone capabilities away from offensive sectors. However, this is a mutual-denial domain. Russia has been targeting the main logistics artery to the Donbas front in the same way.

Since May, the offensive tempo has intensified, signalling the real start of the spring-summer campaign, with 5,000 recorded assaults in the first three weeks of the month and a sustained increase of more than 50% since 6 May. This represents a higher level than before.

Although this is about one month later than in 2025, it does not align with assessments of acute Russian manpower shortage or claims that casualties have exceeded force-generation capacity. Caution is therefore warranted on this point. Casualties do not show any particular spike compared with last year. In addition, as noted above, 2025 was peculiar because the collapse of the Sudzha pocket created an immediate opportunity for accelerated tempo in April.

Another critical signal is that many of the recent unmapped or partially mapped Russian advances have been geolocated in May. This is coherent with a renewed offensive effort.

Much of this effort appears concentrated around Kostiantynivka. The city center is now being entered daily by Russian assault units, while the flanks have been pushed back. This battle is decisive for 2026, as the fall of this defensive node would open the way for continuous urban infiltration across the belt up to Kramatorsk, weakening the AFU defensive system.

One sector to monitor remains Pokrovsk, where Russian forces faced extreme difficulties pushing northward during the winter.

All in all, the Russian economy is holding, under considerable strain and probably heading toward recession. Yet the country’s strategic posture has been strengthened, while military operations appear to be proceeding according to a pattern broadly similar to last year. The deterioration of logistics must be monitored closely, but it does not seem to have affected the main sectors for the time being.

The question remains what incremental benefit can still be obtained from pursuing ground operations at this stage, since those benefits appear limited. My assessment remains that the capture of northern Donetsk, the possible advance toward Zaporizhzhia city, and the anchoring of the line along the Oskil River in the north are the main operational objectives.

Although these objectives may appear limited, it is important to remember that in a war of attrition, such objectives can seem modest while the strategic and political aims remain ambitious, as Aleksandr Svechin explained:

“As a matter of fact, the strategy of attrition, in contrast to a strategy of destruction, involves operations with limited goals up to the moment of the final crisis, but the goals of the war itself may be far from modest.”

Russia does not need a spectacular breakthrough for the campaign to remain strategically effective. In an attritional framework, incremental movement, cumulative damage, and the exhaustion of Ukrainian force-generation capacity may serve the larger political objective better than high-risk manoeuvre.

Conclusion

Ukraine’s strategic centres of gravity, human resources-force generation, and economic resilience, remain seriously strained and are continuously deteriorating, compounded by the Iranian crisis and the increase in oil prices. Air defense, and notably the growing rarity of interceptors, further threatens the electrical grid next winter and increases the risk of incremental infrastructure destruction. The worsening of future prospects is becoming worrying, with opaque post-war scenarios. I refer here to my latest article for La Vigie, Ukraine: The Trap of Rational Ruin

When comparing 2024, 2025, and 2026, it appears the year 2025 happened within specific circumstances and cannot be used as the only baseline for 2026. Nonetheless, facing an extremely concerning battlefield situation, Ukrainian command has refocused its priorities and stabilised mobilisation ahead of the spring-summer campaign, enabling a more robust deployment against the continuous Russian offensive effort. Ukraine has definitely started the year in better conditions than it did after the rout from Sudzha in March 2025, and despite criticism, the credit is due to its Commander in Chief Oleksandr Syrskyi.

A detailed, multidimensional analysis indicates that 2026 is unfolding at a pace comparable to previous years since Russia seized the strategic initiative after the 2023 counter-offensive. Progressive deterioration of the operational situation has begun around Kostiantynivka, the eastern Oskil sector, and Huliaipole. Major attritional fighting on the Donetsk front should be expected to consume reserves, before secondary pushes occur in other oblasts toward the end of the year.

The so-called “reversal of initiative” emphasized in favor of Ukraine is therefore better understood as the by-product of intense defensive activity, conducted with tactical coherence, but at high personnel and material cost. Ukraine has stabilized parts of the front, not changed the direction of the war.

That conclusion does not depend on a single dataset, nor on any direct comparison between official claims. It is drawn from the convergence of several independent checks: the maturation curve of the Mediazona database, the structure of Russian forces deployed in Ukraine, the operational situation at the end of 2022, and Sergei Shoigu’s public casualty figure in September of that year.

This analysis’ purpose is to test whether the 2022 estimates used in my previous work remain coherent when confronted with variables that have different biases and evidentiary value. None is decisive by itself, however, taken together, they bound the plausible range and make the higher Russian fatality estimates from earlier in the war increasingly difficult to reconcile with the observed force structure and battlefield outcome.

I. Mediazona’s 2022 Dataset Is Now Mature Enough to Test the Estimate

The raw Mediazona data for 2022 is as follows: 10,712 names recorded by the end of 2022, 15,520 by the end of 2023, and 19,682 by March 2026.

Between the end of 2022 and the end of 2023, the database added roughly 400 names per month on average. The current marginal rate appears to have fallen below 80 names per month (Figure 1). Modelling this deceleration produces an asymptotic ceiling around 21,500 to 22,000 names, which would place the March 2026 database at more than 90% estimated completion for 2022.

This is the first confirmation point: the 2022 Mediazona dataset is no longer an early-war sample. Four years after the events, it has become a mature, slowly converging dataset whose remaining incompleteness can be bounded with greater confidence. Of course, it remains imperfect, as every wartime fatality database does. But incompleteness is not an unlimited variable that can be expanded at will.

With marginal additions now falling sharply, any claim that the database still misses tens of thousands of Russian fatalities for 2022 becomes increasingly difficult to sustain.

A final 2022 Mediazona count around 21,500 to 22,000 names is compatible with a broader Russian fatality estimate slightly below 30,000, once LPR, DPR, residual missing cases, and other adjustments are included.

This is relevant because the Russian 2022 estimate does not require extreme assumptions. As a matter of fact, in its latest publication, Mediazona admitted they knew almost everything about 2022s casualties : Meduza - 350,000 Russian soldiers killed

But over time, the "fog of war" clears. For example, we now know almost everything about Russia's losses in 2022: we have lists of the dead, data from the Registry of Inheritance Cases and Courts, and even official mortality data from Rosstat—and all these sources are consistent. They estimate approximately 19,000-20,000 dead by the end of 2022

II. The Russian Force Model Is Consistent With an Estimate Around 30,000 Fatalities

Casualty estimates should remain coherent with the force actually available in theatre and their evolution throughout conducted operations, not assessed in isolation.

A simplified model of Russian forces in Ukraine for 2022 gives the following approximate structure (Figure 2): an initial expeditionary corps of around 160,000 men; roughly 30,000 LPR and DPR troops; approximately 20,000 line-unit reinforcements or rotations during the year; around 30,000 BARS recruits; with 40,000 convicts and 300,000 mobilised personnel after late September, not all of whom were immediately deployed, and none of whom should be treated as having been present in Ukraine for the full year. In practice, to assess loss level impact at operational level for comparison, weighted presence in the theatre over the year is the right metric.

The last two category require weighting. Mobilised soldiers cannot be counted as if they had been present from February. If roughly half were sent to Ukraine in 2022 as stated by Putin on December 7th 2022, and if they arrived progressively, their effective annualised presence was far lower than the headline number suggests. A reasonable weighted estimate gives around 25,000 soldier equivalents for mobilised personnel in 2022, producing a simplified total of approximately 285,000 soldier equivalents.

This model is deliberately conservative since it could be refined further by weighting BARS formations, rotations, contract expirations, and unit availability more precisely. Nevertheless, it is sufficient for a basic coherence test.

Russian fatalities slightly below 30,000 would indicate an army that had been severely degraded, though not structurally destroyed.

That corresponds closely to the observed military situation. Russia lost the initiative, suffered major operational failures, abandoned Kherson, absorbed the Kharkiv collapse, and was forced into partial mobilisation. At the same time, it retained enough force structure to stabilise large parts of the front and continue sustained operations in the Donbas during the winter (Vulhedar, Bakhmut). This is precisely the type of battlefield outcome one would expect from an army that had suffered heavy but not irremediable losses.

A model using up to 70,000 Russian KIA produces a very different result. Once permanently disabled wounded, missing personnel, deserters, and temporary unavailability are included, the Russian army in Ukraine would have suffered definitive attrition above 50% on its effective force in 2022. (Figure 3)

By December 2022, much of the remaining force would have consisted of recently mobilised personnel and convicts (Upward of 70%), attrition having fallen disproportionately on the initial professional expeditionary corps. In practical terms, this would imply the near destruction of Russia’s original professional force in Ukraine and the loss of most coherent constituted units. To operate at scale, incredibly high loss levels on professional soldiers of core formed units would have made the integration of mobilized personnel impossible in such short amount of time

This is the key point for which high-fatality estimates must be addressed, because it produces a force structure that does not match the battlefield operational reality observed after Kherson and during the winter battle for Bakhmut.

The estimate around 30,000 fatalities fits the force model far better, while explaining why Russia was forced into mobilisation without requiring the conclusion that its army should already have collapsed. Overall, this is also consistent with a total force of 360 000 soldiers in Ukraine in early 2023, as stated in this RUSI analysis : Russian Military Objectives and Capacity in Ukraine Through 2024

The Russian military began 2023 with a highly disorganised force in Ukraine comprising approximately 360,000 troops

III. Shoigu’s September 2022 Statement Is a Useful Control Variable

The third confirmation point is Sergei Shoigu’s public statement of 21 September 2022, when he claimed that 5,937 Russian soldiers had been killed: Russia calls up 300,000 reservists, says 6,000 soldiers killed in Ukraine

This figure is usually dismissed immediately as propaganda for it may indeed have been politically selected, and should not be treated as proof in itself. But it remains useful as a control variable.

The number announced on 21 September was probably not calculated on that same day. Military casualty administration takes time so the figure was likely locked several weeks earlier, probably by late August at best.

Current Mediazona data for the period from the start of the war to the end of August 2022 gives roughly 8,700 Russian KIA, implying the gap between Shoigu’s number and the current Mediazona count is around 2,700 deaths. At first glance, this may appear significant, but not necessarily evidence that the figure was invented.

Several factors matter here:

• Some soldiers now recorded as killed by the end of August may have died later from wounds received earlier.

• Some missing soldiers may not yet have been administratively confirmed as killed at the time.

• Some bodies may not yet have been recovered, identified, or processed.

• Some deaths may have entered the formal reporting chain only weeks later.

Even if the current Mediazona figure is rounded up by 10% for residual incompleteness, the gap can plausibly be explained by administrative delay, battlefield uncertainty, and the normal lag between death, confirmation, and official reporting.

This does not mean Shoigu’s figure was certainly accurate. The fact is the number could have been close to the real figure available to the Russian Ministry of Defence at that point in time.

It also helps explain why public reporting stopped afterward. On the same day, Russia announced partial mobilisation. Once mobilised personnel became politically central to the war, casualty disclosure became a far more sensitive topic.

Shoigu’s figure far from contradicting the estimate becomes another useful stress test supporting it when properly contextualised,.

Conclusion

The strength of the 2022 estimate rests on the convergence of several independent checks, each with different biases and different weaknesses instead of one unique data point.

Mediazona’s 2022 dataset appears to be more than 90% complete by March 2026, with a likely asymptotic ceiling around 22,000 names. The broader Russian estimate points toward slightly fewer than 30,000 fatalities.

The force model confirms that this level of losses is severe enough to explain mobilisation, operational degradation, and the loss of initiative, without being so severe that the Russian army should have ceased functioning as a coherent force. Shoigu’s September 2022 casualty statement, while not conclusive, is also more compatible with this estimate than is generally assumed once administrative delays and battlefield reporting lags are included.

While this does not minimise Russian losses, it recontextualizes them in a force structure that makes military sense.

*Note: data from Mediazona as of early April 2026.

The Core Constraint

The absence of a European naval blockade of Russia’s Baltic ports is often explained in political terms: fear of escalation, legal constraints, or insufficient resolve. Those factors matter. But even if one assumes that the political decision had been made, the more decisive obstacle is operational. The Baltic and the adjoining North Sea approaches are not permissive waters in which one side can interdict the other at low cost. They are increasingly mutual-denial spaces: dense with sensors, narrow maritime approaches, exposed critical infrastructure, long-range strike systems, mines, drones, and short warning times.

That distinction matters because Russia’s Baltic export system is strategically important. The Centre for Research on Energy and Clean Air estimates that 47% (or about 2.5m barrel/day) of Russia’s seaborne crude-oil and oil-product exports in 2025 departed from Baltic terminals, with Primorsk and Ust-Luga alone accounting for 22 and 20 % respectively. A serious interruption in Baltic liftings would therefore hurt Russia immediately. But that does not make blockade a low-risk option. The question is not whether Europe could stop individual tankers. It obviously could. The question is whether Europe could sustain an interdiction campaign while preserving its own trade, infrastructure resilience, and escalation control.

NATO’s own posture in the region is instructive: the Baltic Sentry mission launched in January 2025 emphasizes protection of critical infrastructure, surveillance, maritime patrol. In other words, the alliance is already focused on defending a vulnerable maritime ecosystem against sabotage or undersea disruption.

The decisive question being not whether Europe can stop individual tankers. It is whether Europe can sustain a blockade while keeping its own maritime economy functioning under retaliation.

Scenario 1: A Direct Blockade in the Gulf of Finland

The most intuitive option would be a close blockade: directly bottling up Russian Baltic export ports by interdicting traffic in the Gulf of Finland and the approaches to St. Petersburg, Primorsk, Ust-Luga, and Vysotsk. On paper, this is the most economically damaging option for Russia. In practice, it is also the most exposed and could not be enforced without a declaration of war.

That being said, the Gulf of Finland is a narrow battlespace: surface traffic there would operate under persistent surveillance and within reach of Russian coastal-defense systems, aviation, mines, electronic warfare, and unmanned attack systems. According to RAND, in the Baltic, long-range (300-500km) anti-ship missiles based ashore can place very large portions of the sea under risk. The result is a geometry of reciprocal vulnerability in which European enforcement units, auxiliaries, and commercial shipping would all operate under threat.

The practical problem is commercial as much as military. Even a tactically successful blockade would expose European ports, sea lanes, and insurers to sustained retaliation. Russia would not need to seek a decisive fleet engagement. It could instead generate cumulative friction through mining, missile threats, drone attacks, cyber operations, GNSS interference, and attacks or sabotage against undersea infrastructure. The campaign would therefore become an exercise in symmetric exposure: Russia’s exports would suffer, but so would the wider maritime economy of northern Europe.

Scenario 2: Interdiction in Danish Waters

A more distant option would be to let Russian cargoes leave the Baltic and then stop tankers in or near the Danish approaches. This has the obvious advantage of moving interdiction forces farther from the densest concentration of Russian conventional strike options. It also exploits geography: the Danish straits remain the key maritime gateway between the Baltic and the North Sea.

But this option more hazardous than it first appears. A closure of straits used for international navigation would not look like routine peacetime regulation. It would amount in practice to a wartime exclusion or blockade measure and would be treated as such by Moscow. Operationally, it reduces direct exposure, but it does not solve the strategic problem: Baltic trade remains exposed even if the choke point is farther west.

Russia could still retaliate against shipping, ports, cables, and logistics across the Baltic. Europe would then inherit the harder burden: not only to stop Russian tankers, but also to keep its own commercial arteries open under coercive pressure. In that sense, Danish-waters interdiction is more feasible operationally than a close blockade, but still mutually damaging strategically.

Russian Deterrent and Disruption Capabilities

Russia’s deterrent value in this context does not depend on achieving full sea control. It depends on its ability to make blockade enforcement and maritime commerce simultaneously costly. That deterrent operates on several layers.

First, Russia retains substantial land-based strike leverage over the theater. In the Baltic, geography magnifies the relevance of shore-based systems. Anti-ship missiles, air defense, electronic warfare, and ground-launched strike assets can influence maritime operations far beyond the coastline. The result is a shared denial environment in which European operations would be persistently threatened.

Second, Russia can employ hybrid and unconventional disruption at relatively low cost. Cable sabotage, shadow-fleet tactics, maritime drones, GPS interference, cyber attacks, and coercive harassment of merchant shipping can all degrade trade without requiring decisive combat results. One does not need to sink many ships to impair commerce; one needs only to make movement uncertain enough that insurance premiums rise, routing becomes erratic, inspections multiply, and shipowners become more reluctant to operate. The situation in the Strait of Hormuz is a fair warning to what could ensue in the Baltic context. In addition, recent sabotage activities of Russian vessels in the area were messages directed at European policymakers, a warning of what could unfold at scale should trade control be enforced.

Third, Russia can threaten rear-area escalation. Long-range conventional strike systems, including systems such as Oreshnik in Moscow’s signaling repertoire, widen the options of intimidation against naval bases, airfields, depots, and logistics hubs that would support blockade operations. Even if some Russian claims around such systems are exaggerated, the signaling effect still matters operationally because it forces Europe to allocate scarce air and missile defense resources deeper in the rear.

Fourth, Russia can pressure NATO’s land communications. The Suwałki corridor remains a structurally vulnerable link between Poland and the Baltic states. In a wider crisis, the spread of inexpensive drones and short-range strike systems would place transport nodes, convoy routes, and staging areas under persistent risk. That further complicates any assumption that sea interdiction could be isolated from the wider theater.

Why the Campaign Would Be Mutually Detrimental

The strongest argument against a European blockade is not that Europe lacks powerful enough navies. It is that the campaign would be self-damaging in economic-strategic terms. Finland is the clearest example as Finnish sources indicate that 96% of Finland’s imports and exports move by sea. Finland has considerable preparedness arrangements and strategic stockpiles (5 months), including fuel and grain buffers. But those arrangements preserve essential functions; they do not preserve normal economic life. Needless to say that in the current state of the Finish economy, even the slightest disruption of sea freight could have significant repercussions.

A major Baltic trade shock would likely hit Finnish industry, exports, logistics, and pricing very rapidly. The country would not stop in a matter of weeks, but daily life could be affected.

The Baltic states are also exposed, though unevenly. Lithuania’s Klaipeda remains a major freight node; Estonia’s ferry and ro-ro links are critical; Latvia is less maritime-dependent than often assumed but would still suffer secondary effects. Poland is more resilient because of its scale and land connections, yet its ports remain significant for the wider northern European economy.

This is why blockade is easier to imagine than to sustain. It would not be a neat one-sided sanctioning instrument but a theater-wide contest over commercial resilience.

Russian Rerouting and the Limits of Decisive Effect

A blockade would hurt Russia without leaving it out of alternatives. Over time, Moscow could redirect part of its export system toward other outlets, especially via Far Eastern routes. This would be the rational choice, since 90% of Russian oil exports are delivered to clients in Asia. Recent reporting has highlighted the growing strength of exports from Pacific terminals such as Kozmino (1m barrels per day, our of total seaborne exports >5m average), while other flows can be reconfigured through Arctic, Black Sea, inland, or pipeline-linked systems depending on constraints and infrastructure availability.

That rerouting would be costly, slower, and operationally inefficient. It would degrade Russia’s export system rather than leave it untouched. But it also means that Europe would be accepting acute risk to its own maritime economy in order to impose a shock on an adversary that could still adapt geographically over time. The strategic return would therefore be meaningful short-term but erode as time passes and Russian operations adapt.

Conclusion

Europe has not blockaded Russia’s Baltic ports primarily because such an operation would not be a low-cost act of will. It would be a high-intensity, open-ended maritime coercion campaign in a theater increasingly defined by mutual denial. A direct Gulf of Finland blockade would maximize pressure on Russian exports but also maximize exposure of European vessels and infrastructure. A Danish-waters interdiction would reduce some exposure, but it would still leave the wider Baltic trading system vulnerable to Russian retaliation and commercial destabilization.

The Baltic and North Sea approaches are therefore not a setting in which Europe can painlessly leverage geography. They are a setting in which any blockade would become reciprocal: Russia’s oil exports would suffer, but so too would the maritime, economic, and infrastructural stability of Finland, the Baltic states, Poland, and the wider northern European trading system. Because Russia can also reroute part of its export system over time, especially toward Pacific outlets, the long-run strategic payoff of blockade is real but limited. Incremental return would steadily decrease.

Bibliography

• Centre for Research on Energy and Clean Air, March 2026 — Monthly analysis of Russian fossil fuel exports and sanctions

• Fintraffic, Annual Report 2024

• Finland National Emergency Supply Agency, Security of supply in Finland

• Finland National Emergency Supply Agency, Report on maritime security of supply: need for a functional market and more Finnish experts

• Finland National Emergency Supply Agency, Finland has no shortage of fuels or grain because of the war in the Middle East

• IISS, Defending Europe Without the United States: Costs and Consequences (2025)

• NATO, NATO launches “Baltic Sentry” to increase critical infrastructure security

• NATO SHAPE, Baltic Sentry

• NATO, NATO Allies agree to expedite innovation adoption and integration for Baltic Sea security

• Port of Klaipėda, 2024 for Klaipėda Port: growing cargo handling, new records and increased market share

• RAND, A Brief Naval Overview of the Baltic Sea Region

• RAND, Addressing the Gaps Between U.S. National Strategy and Military Capacity

• Reuters, What is the Oreshnik missile that Russia has fired at Ukraine?

• Reuters, Russia’s Ust-Luga restarts oil exports, Primorsk remains shut after drone attacks

• Reuters, Russian oil exports crippled by drone attacks and severe weather, limiting gains

• Statistics Poland, The maritime economy in Poland 2024

• Statistics Latvia, In 2024 a drop in freight transported by all modes of transport

• United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, Part III. Straits used for international navigation

This analysis does not intend to assess any total or estimate a global ratio. Nevertheless, after four years, OSINT data aggregation for 2022, and to some extent 2023, is close to completion and can be used for an accurate comparison of casualty levels.

Methodology

• Raw data from Mediazona and UALosses for KIA. UALosses contains 4,453 fatalities for which the date of death is unknown. They were distributed equally between each year.

• Ukrainian MIA data from LostArmour, double-checked using the government-provided missing persons database and the same filters.

• KIA figures (rounded up) from the 2022 LPR and DPR official reports. With one caveat: the overlap with Mediazona cannot be verified, which increases the margin of error. The total could therefore be lower on the Russian side.

• Proportional distribution of backlog court filings declaring Russian missing soldiers deceased (80,000 in the backlog as of late 2025). It is implied that there are not many remaining MIA Russian soldiers for 2022.

All data as of March 8, 2026.

From there, the main issue becomes whether the remaining uncertainty is still large enough to alter the overall comparison for 2022.

Most Russian fatalities were professional soldiers or mobilized personnel at the time, making it highly likely that their deaths were publicly shared and that their names on memorials near known military bases were already picked up by Mediazona’s work.

As a matter of fact, Mediazona only added around 5,000 names for 2022 since the end of 2023, pointing toward almost complete coverage.

With regard to MIA, for the purpose of this analysis they are considered fatalities in this war, especially when it concerns the first years. As developed in a previous comparative analysis, the processing method differs for both countries: backlog processing as a flow for Russia versus a stock of missing soldiers for Ukraine, processed very slowly due to budgetary constraints for compensation payouts and because many bodies remain in Russian possession.

Overall, the assessment is that Russian residual MIA for the first two years is extremely low, due to the fact that contract soldiers and mobilized personnel were more likely to be processed. The years 2024–2026, with many short-term contract volunteers sent rapidly to the front, are another matter, however.

The 2022 picture

The conclusion is that both sides suffered slightly fewer than 30,000 fatalities in 2022. Even accounting for a certain margin of error, this refutes claims that Russian fatalities were multiple times higher than Ukrainian ones during the first year of the war.

In a sense, this is not surprising. Ukraine incurred significant losses in the first month of the war in the defense of the northern front, using ambush tactics against better-equipped, trained Russian troops.

The pockets of Mariupol and Sievierodonetsk saw higher Ukrainian fatalities under intense Russian artillery fire. President Zelensky himself acknowledged 200+ fatalities a day during that phase of the war.

Moreover, the fall counteroffensives, especially the Kherson one, saw entire Ukrainian brigades destroyed under unfavorable odds. What can be inferred is that, against popular belief, the AFU suffered far more fatalities until the Vuhledar offensive and the ramp-up of the battle of Bakhmut toward the very end of the year. Figure 3 outlines that Russian fatalities peaked at that time.

A widespread analytical error

Many analyses from earlier in the war kept emphasizing Russian losses as multiple times Ukrainian ones. Links to a selection of analyses from eminent specialists or politicians who got it significantly wrong in light of the above facts can be found attached to this article.

The relevant quotes below highlight what influential figures were saying at the time:

Ben Wallace, British Defence Minister, stated in early September 2022 that the Russian military had already lost 80,000 servicemen, of whom more than 25,000 were killed.

He noted that Russia continues to suffer losses, and that this will have a lasting impact on the country’s future combat effectiveness.

“It is estimated that to date, over 25,000 Russian soldiers have lost their lives. If you include killed, casualties, captured, or the now reported tens of thousands of deserters — over 80,000 dead or injured and the other categories,” Wallace said during his statement to lawmakers in the House of Commons.

This statement comes halfway through 2022, and long before the battle of Bakhmut or the Vuhledar offensive, where most of the year’s fatalities occurred: 58%, to be exact.

“According to CSIS estimates, there have been approximately 60,000 to 70,000 Russian combat fatalities in Ukraine between February 2022 and February 2023.”

“We find that Russian personnel losses have outpaced Ukrainian personnel losses, with expected loss numbers of 76,687 and 17,223 respectively, as of 23 February 2023. The ratio of casualties to death for Russia and Ukraine are 3:1 and 5:1, respectively.”

These assessments did not simply misread the reality on the ground. They also contributed to a false sense of victory, which in part helps explain delayed political action to support Ukraine and invest in future military capabilities. What Russia did, by adapting to the new reality, most European countries have not done, and the gap is widening.

2023 paints a different picture

The year 2023 paints a different picture at first glance, with 55,000 Russian fatalities versus 35,000 Ukrainian ones, despite the failed summer counteroffensive: a 1.58 ratio.

This is not necessarily inconsistent. In a separate analysis on the main siege battles of the war, using the same sources, a 2:1 casualty ratio in favor of the AFU was estimated:

For example, between December 2022 and April 2023, fatalities totalled 9.6k Ukrainian versus 18.8k Russian at the battle of Bakhmut.

Therefore, Ukraine suffered a 2:1 negative ratio during its summer counteroffensive, while Russia suffered the reverse in its large siege operations in Bakhmut and Avdiivka that year.

However, one important point must be added: a significant portion of Russian fatalities in 2023 were inmates, 28%, to be precise, and likely more if we account for them representing most of the thousands of unknown branches in the database. That accounts almost exactly for the delta in fatalities, around 20,000.

Similarly, in 2022, inmates represented almost 25% of fatalities recorded.

Taken together, this suggests that the fatalities suffered by both belligerents during the first two years of the war caused broadly similar degradation in real combat capability among experienced soldiers.

Once more, this goes against preconceived assessments one could read at the time, which claimed ratios of 10:1 or 5:1.

Conclusion

To conclude, preconceived and biased analysis leads to severe mistakes. It is critical to be patient before making definitive statements, and to refrain from ideologically biased, unsourced affirmations.

Likewise, with regard to 2024 and 2025, by far the deadliest years of this war due to the expansion of operations, hasty conclusions on both sides’ casualty ratio should be avoided until more clarity can be gained in a couple of years.

List of sources:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/03/16/us/politics/russia-troop-deaths.html

https://militarnyi.com/en/news/britain-and-ukraine-shared-russia-s-current-losses-in-the-war/

https://www.csis.org/analysis/ukrainian-innovation-war-attrition

https://theloop.ecpr.eu/estimating-troop-losses-on-both-sides-in-the-russia-ukraine-war/

Ukraine, with an average of 169 vehicles lost per month, has returned to roughly summer-level loss rates. Russia, by contrast, has recorded some of its lowest monthly vehicle losses of the war, averaging around 80 per month, with February falling to just 31.

A widening loss gap in Russia’s favor

What stands out most is that Ukraine is now losing nearly twice as many armored vehicles as Russia, and has been losing more assets overall since spring 2025 (with the exception of October, when Russian forces launched several armored columns to secure tactical objectives around Pokrovsk).

Even though IMVs now account for close to 50% of total losses, the AFU is still losing more heavy armor than Russian forces.

Ukraine is also continuing to suffer heavy artillery losses (up to ~30 per month), nearly three times more than Russia. This reinforces the importance of artillery in repelling assaults and supporting counterattacks, even in a drone-heavy battlefield environment.

It also suggests that, since last spring, Russian artillery doctrine, relying on fixed, concealed firing positions to support short, incremental infantry assaults, has been increasingly effective. The recent strike from a 152mm howitzer in Kramatorsk illustrates improved survivability and the still-limited effect of Ukrainian counter-battery fire in some sectors.

IMV losses and the degradation of Ukraine’s heavy armor fleet

The rapid rise of IMV losses as a share of total armored losses further supports the assessment that Ukrainian forces are becoming more reliant on lighter vehicles with limited fire support.

In practical terms, this points to a significant degradation of Ukraine’s heavy armor inventory as I pointed out in a prior analysis on this topic:

Delwin - Military Theorist

Strategic Analysis: Ukrainian Armored Inventory

Since many of you asked questions about the reliability and completeness of information, this follow-up provides the rationale behind my initial choices and an updated model that integrates all possible factors. As you will see, the conclusions do not change. In fact, when modeled in greater detail, they are reinforced…

Read more

a year ago · 1 like · Delwin - Military Theorist

Russian winter losses and the logic of a slower campaign tempo

Russian forces lost fewer than 50 vehicles per month in January and February 2026. This aligns with the limited territorial gains made during the deep winter period and is consistent with reduced offensive intensity.

During these months, the operational focus appears to have been on:

• Consolidating gains from the fall campaign (Pokrovsk, Siversk, Stepnohirsk)

• Force regeneration after intense fighting in 2025 (i.e Naval infantry grouping)

• Expanding strategic ambiguity through controlled, incremental frontline progress using small forward assault groups in no-man’s-land and poorly manned sectors, creating multiple springboards for upcoming operations

• Repelling counterattacks in the Zaporizhzhia direction (February)

Overall, this pattern is consistent with an operational pause in preparation for a higher tempo later in the year.

At the same time, strikes on Ukraine’s energy infrastructure reportedly continued relentlessly and pushed the electricity grid toward near-collapse in some areas. Availability in the east has indeed below 30% this winter in average, which would severely affect repair facilities, production, and logistics, forcing more activity farther from the front, lengthening supply chains, accelerating population outflows, and worsening the economic split between the two sides of the Dnipro.

Strategic ambiguity and the role of small assault groups

The concept of strategic ambiguity deserves more attention.

Small assault group tactics are often misunderstood. Their role is not simply to “assault” in the classic sense. They operate in a role closer to skirmishers in warfare that can:

• push back Ukrainian drone operators,

• secure advanced positions,

• map and clear mines,

• identify sensors and firing patterns,

• and create uncertainty about where the main effort will follow.

This dynamic appears to have been visible south of the Vovcha River, on the heights from Danilivka to Orestopil, where the AFU had to launch counterattacks to retake ground, in effect clearing sectors and reducing Russian-generated ambiguity.

The more often these staging actions occur, the harder it becomes for AFU command to anticipate the next Russian effort.

A similar pattern was visible in September in the Huliaipole sector, where forward assault groups expanded Russian control against poorly commanded and insufficiently battle-hardened territorial defense units. When the main push followed, surprise was significant and reinforcements were not available in time, contributing to the loss of 600+ km² and Huliaipole, an operationally important outcome.

These tactics also tend to reduce casualties compared to large armored assaults. If this pattern continues, major armored assaults may remain rare in 2026, reserved mainly for the capture and immediate securing of high-value objectives.

Misreading winter assault data

Some reporting shows no significant decrease (roughly 6%) in Russian assaults this winter, and interprets this as evidence that offensive intensity has not evolved substantially.

However, that interpretation may be misleading if it fails to distinguish between:

• small-team actions used to generate strategic ambiguity, and

• larger assaults intended to produce immediate tactical breakthroughs.

The armored loss gap compared with the intense summer months, roughly 50% lower, supports the view that operations were less intensive across the front, even if the raw number of “assault events” did not fall dramatically.

Main sectors of Russian offensive concentration this winter

In practical terms, Russian offensive effort appears to have concentrated on two key sectors:

• Huliaipole, including the capture of Zaliznychne and continued progress across the defensive line

• The Siversk–Sloviansk axis, with efforts to secure heights as close to Rai-Oleksandrivka as possible

Weather effects and end-of-winter outlook

This winter was notably cold. A severe cold wave from mid-January to early-February likely affected Russian operations, and the AFU launched localized counterattacks shortly afterward.

This may help explain the limited Russian gains and reduced effort during that period.

In that sense, winter ends on a more positive note than might have been expected for the AFU. However, at the strategic level, the broader picture remains difficult: continued destruction of energy infrastructure and worsening economic conditions are narrowing Kyiv’s options going forward.

The world wars were defined by two key features:

1. General mobilization at the outset: both sides drew broadly and rapidly from their manpower pools without echeloned planning for a long war.

2. A “total war” economy: war production and finance absorbed extraordinary shares of national output (often cited as above 20% of GDP, but can reach up to 75% like Germany during WW2).

   

1) Mobilization and the illusion of infinite reserves

General mobilization carries a major drawback: it can create a false sense of inexhaustible reserves for general staffs. That illusion encourages over-ambitious operations and the rapid exhaustion of manpower.

This dynamic was visible in 1914–1915, when offensives were designed and executed at casualty levels that were strategically unsustainable, with the goal of ending quickly the conflict. The result was that, later in the war, both camps faced severe limits in force generation: beyond replacements, only the next annual cohort (roughly the 18-year-old age group) could be added in meaningful numbers, and the remaining rear officers were often unqualified, leading to difficulties in getting new formations combat-ready.

Germany rebuilt offensive capacity in 1918 after the end of large-scale fighting on the Eastern Front by merging armies, while the Allies increasingly relied on incoming United States forces.

Aleksandr Svechin criticized this model heavily and promoted the concept of permanent mobilization, which should be planned ahead and separately so as to remain an efficient process throughout the war. I consider this the first pillar of “endurance in war.”

“ The need for mobilization plans to be flexible stems from the need to of subordinate mobilization to the political situation at the time of the mobilization”
A. Svechin, Strategy 1927

2) Economics and the limits of total war

The same logic applies to the economy. A true war economy, where every factory, agricultural facility, and financial instrument is subordinated to the war effort, cannot be sustained indefinitely without severe consequences. The First World War left much of Europe economically and socially exhausted.

France spent up to 25% of its GDP equivalent in the war effort, funded at 75% by debt; and reaches a debt to GDP ratio of about 200% by the end of the conflict. Needless to say it is unlikely such levels can be maintained for a decade.

By contrast, endurance depends on building war capacity gradually and recalibrating industry and finance to sustain a long conflict without excessive strain on the rear, or reckless borrowing and depletion. This is the second pillar, which can be paraphrased as a doctrine of “permanent war” (in the sense of sustainable long-term war-making capacity, not maximal intensity).

Applying the framework to the current war

Today, Russia reportedly spends around 7% of GDP on the war effort. That is significant, but it is a fundamentally different order of magnitude from a full “total war” economy. The economy has been reoriented through localization and export substitution. While it is under stress, nothing so far clearly indicates that it cannot continue for several more years.

On manpower, Russia has a far larger pool and could have pursued general mobilization, fielding two or three million men. But that approach would have imposed major economic costs by reducing the workforce. It also might not have translated into proportional battlefield results in the post-2023 environment, where small-unit infiltration, gradual advances, and attrition have become the norm.

Moreover, a mass-mobilization posture risks encouraging the same problem Svechin warned about: command may feel tempted to attempt larger, costlier offensives to end the was quickly, that are not necessarily more efficient; burning out potential rapidly and prematurely. In the event of a prolonged stalemate, such exhaustion could translate into a strategic failure (or be perceived as one) relative to political objectives.

It is therefore plausible that, from 2023 on the military side and 2024 on the economic side, Russian leadership, e.g., Valery Gerasimov and Andrey Belousov, opted for a calibrated approach consistent with Svechin’s logic. This is especially relevant in a context where a far stronger economic and industrial coalition (NATO and the European Union) supports Ukraine. In a direct contest of industrial scale, Russia likely loses faster; in an endurance contest, there may be a narrow path to achieving its aims.

“The principle of economy of forces should predominate decisively in all cases” A.Svechin, Strategy 1927

Conclusion

Comparing the duration of the current war to the First World War is misguided because the intensity of mobilization and economic commitment is far lower, by a factor of several in GDP spending and in force generation posture. A lower-intensity but sustainable model of war-making can, by design, persist much longer than the “total war” model that burned through societies at an extreme rate.

I wrote in my recent article that I consider the collapse of Ukraine’s electricity system would constitute a decisive strategic victory in this conflict. The recent blackout shows the breaking point could be nearing, even though power was restored and a complete collapse is technically very unlikely.

The generation deficit is high during winter time, and the destruction of significant assets in 750kV substations means nuclear output will soon be curtailed on the 330kV network, whose capacity is insufficient to handle the entire supply from the NPPs, aggravating the situation.

However, the underlying goal is the collapse of the economy.

In order to achieve its maximalist political goals in Ukraine, Russia is executing a multidimensional strategy across economic, political, and military dimensions, under the principles of A. Svechin, which I have paraphrased as the “permanent war” doctrine.

The military aspect is well documented and consists of forcing attrition on the Ukrainian military to a point where it is unable to conduct meaningful operations, thus creating a de facto annexation of captured territories. From a Russian perspective, this must include the entire Donbas at least, and probably Zaporizhia city, hence the ongoing effort along the frontline.

At this point, in early 2026, military analysis suggests this phase could conclude within the next 12-18 months at the current pace.

But the primary political goal, turning Ukraine into a favorable regime, if not a proxy state, cannot be achieved via military means or the direct political pressure it entails.

As we see in recent polls, support for the Ukrainian leadership remains very high, around 67% by mid-2025 (Gallup poll). Likewise, the population is determined to prevent Russian dominion, as attested by a very recent survey by the KIIS, 65% still support the war as long as it takes. This context makes early elections unlikely until a peace accord (though support for negotiated settlement is increasing to 69%).

Therefore, unless European support dwindles, there is little prospect of success for Moscow on this political front.

That is where the economic front takes precedence.

Economic warfare and systemic collapse

Collapsing the Ukrainian economy, while making the cost and reconstruction effort unbearable by destroying key infrastructure, appears to be the chosen way for Russia to achieve its maximalist goals. This is a very cynical approach, one that leads to humanitarian catastrophe.

Obviously, this was not the original plan in 2022, as Russia does not want to incur reconstruction costs if it could be avoided. But relentless EU financial support means this is now the primary pathway, one where civilians pay a disproportionate toll, as outlined in this Financial Times article.

The collapse of the electrical grid is the means to an end.

Population exodus and the shutdown of enterprises would bring down the Ukrainian economy in such a case, already heavily dependent on European aid. This aid now amounts to the equivalent of 46% of the state budget if we include both financial and military assistance, unprecedented in 2026. (annualised 45bn$)

That being said, a significant gap remains to cover the expected $113 billion in state expenditure in 2026, which is still missing $15-20 billion according to the IMF. Negotiations are ongoing, but as state revenues dwindle with increasingly frequent blackouts, it becomes less likely that the budget can be fully funded.

As noted in the OSW analysis criticizing the unrealistic figures of the 2026 budget, military expenditures in the original 2025 budget were underestimated by approximately 20% compared to the actual year-end figures.

Applied to 2026, when combined with the likely increase in costs resulting from damage to the power grid, as well as resulting lower-than-expected fiscal revenues, this suggests an additional funding requirement of approximately $10-20 billion, bringing the total uncovered financing gap to an estimated $25-40 billion per annum.

The budget plans for 2026–2027 were formulated under the assumption that the war would end by the close of the year. However, this outcome now appears increasingly unlikely, rendering the underlying projections overly optimistic.

The implications of such budgetary shortfalls, both for immediate military capabilities and for longer-term economic and strategic prospects, are deeply concerning.

This is currently the main vital issue for Ukraine.

Beyond the fact that a modern country cannot run without electricity, and that diesel generators, decentralized renewables, or microgrids cannot compensate for 8 GW of nuclear generation, the slowly unfolding economic collapse is far more challenging to contend with. Electricity imports have reached record high levels, cost of diesel for generators and repairs also add to the toll the strike campaign takes. 

Stating the obvious, Ukraine lacks the means to win the strategic deep-strike contest. The damage it causes to the Russian economy by striking refineries is anecdotal in comparison. Even if Taurus missiles are received, the imbalance remains dramatic as missile production capacity in Europe is still 2 to 3 times lower than Russia’s, according to available information.

Negotiation dynamics and the Moscow endgame

Russia appears to have no interest in negotiating too soon in this context, which explains the lack of progress on the negotiation front. Showing goodwill, maintaining diplomatic channels, and holding discussions is necessary, but any accord at the moment would not produce the intended outcome for Moscow.

The longer this drags on, the more the population emigrates, economic difficulties increase, political support erodes, and the EU’s ability to fund the gap, with elections approaching in 2027 in multiple key partner countries, may falter.

The ensuing domino effect could force Ukraine into a very unfavorable treaty, leading to instability and elections that could bring, as we saw in Georgia for instance, Russian pragmatists to power.

The withdrawal from Donbas, as stated above, is of little consequence in the negotiation, as the current operational situation suggests it can happen militarily within two years. It is a diversion from the real negotiation point: the presence of European troops and security guarantees.

A Ukraine defaulting on its debt or in grave financial difficulties, that Europeans cannot bankroll at such levels would have to lower its requirements on this matter to end the conflict and trigger reconstruction funding in an emergency situation.

That is the current Moscow endgame.

It is unfolding ruthlessly, and Europeans currently seem powerless to stop it.

The Russian economy and demography are suffering heavily in the meantime, but their resilience seems, for now, able to endure.

Can Ukraine? 2026 will be decisive in that regard, starting with closing the funding gap.

The grey zone is a construct, defined not by exposure to drones or artillery but by the fact that neither side can deny the other the ability to operate on the ground.

Grey zone versus no man’s land

First and foremost, the grey zone must not be confused with no man’s land. A no man’s land is, by definition, an unmanned area separating enemy positions. The grey zone, by contrast, refers to an area in which both sides are able to operate at the same time. This distinction is fundamental and is often overlooked.

Grey zones, an abstract concept derived from “contested ground”, tend to emerge in terrain that makes exclusive control difficult. Urban areas, villages, forests, hills, and rocky or compartmented ground allow small units from both sides to move, hide, and conduct limited operations without immediately denying the adversary access. In such environments, presence is overlapping rather than sequential.

Doctrinal definition of control

To understand where the grey zone applies, it is first necessary to define control in doctrinal terms. U.S. Army doctrine defines control as “a tactical mission task that requires the commander to maintain physical influence over a specified area to prevent its use by an enemy or to create conditions necessary for successful friendly operations” (FM 3-90-1). Control is therefore not an abstract notion, nor a measure of comfort or stability, but a function of physical influence exercised on the ground, often confused with “Secure”:

Control of an area does not require the complete clearance of all enemy soldiers from the specified area. The tactical mission task of control differs from that of secure because secure does not allow enemy fires to impact on the secured area. The enemy can engage targets within the controlled area but cannot move ground forces through that area

This definition from tactical mission task manual is closely linked to the concepts of the forward line of own troops (FLOT) and the line of contact, both of which identify, through slightly different lenses, the boundary separating friendly and enemy forces at a given moment, which is not necessarily contiguous. The FLOT, in particular, “indicates the most forward positions of friendly forces in any kind of military operation at a specific time” and explicitly excludes small, long-range reconnaissance elements or similar stay-behind forces (FM 3-90-1).

What control actually implies

Control is thus about the ability to deny the enemy the use of an area without meaningful challenge, while a secured area at the rear is outside of enemy weapons range, except in modern times, long range assets. It implies that friendly forces can operate there routinely, while the enemy cannot do more than conduct sporadic long-range fires or isolated, temporary incursions.

The mere possibility that enemy personnel once passed through without operating meaningfully, or could theoretically strike from afar, does not negate control.

This doctrinal framing clarifies a common misconception: vulnerability does not equal lack of control. The ability of enemy drones to strike a position does not turn that position into a grey zone. One can be targeted by artillery 10km behind the line of contact without reclassifying the entire rear area as contested. The same logic applies to drones.

Practical implications for mapping

These distinctions have direct implications for mapping. In a village, once soldiers raise a flag and no credible information of enemy operational presence emerges, it can be a legitimate mapping criteria for control, up to the point reached. This remains true even if the position is tactically fragile, exposed to fires, or difficult to supply. The tactical objective of taking control has been achieved, even if it can be later reversed by enemy action.

The misuse of “consolidation”

The term “consolidation” is another frequent source of confusion (See the distinction with “Secure” above). Consolidation has no direct influence on control. Whether supply routes are easy or contested, whether a position is comfortable or precarious, does not alter the status of control.

If additional nuance is required, concepts such as limited or unstable control can be used, but the area remains controlled nonetheless. Consolidation is mostly about preparing a captured position against enemy counter attacks and reorganizing the attacking units toward the next objective, and therefore occurs after control is established.

Mapping reflects time, space, intent - storytelling

Another aspect often overlooked is that mapping is inherently also a function of both time and intent. A map is not a neutral object; it tells a story. Depending on what the map aims to convey, the criteria used to depict control may legitimately differ, and the visual elements applied to cartography adapted.

If the objective is to represent tactical dynamics with high temporal resolution: how often objectives change hands, the pace of counterattacks, then it is coherent to assign control as soon as it is demonstrated on the ground and to revise it when new geolocated evidence shows a reversal. If, instead, the intent is to present a clear and stable line of contact at a given moment, then a more conservative approach is justified, delaying changes until uncertainty has largely dissipated. Neither approach alters the doctrinal definition of the grey zone.

Let us apply those rules to a recently much debated situation: the village of Ternuvate in the Zaporijia direction, depicted in the maps below. Geolocated footage emerged in January showing Russian soldiers raising flags at multiple locations in the village, as well as in Kosivtseve to the south and further behind the Haichur river toward Huliailpole.

A doctrinal depiction would therefore show the village itself as a grey zone, since Ukrainian positions may still contest freedom of operations there. By contrast, the fields south up to the previous Russian FLOT should be marked as "controlled”, since no Ukranian positions capable to deny movement remained in this open areas, enabling forward assault groups to advance.

As per the purple area, it should be marked as a no man’s land, as the AFU abandoned positions east of the river long ago, precisely for this purpose: creating an empty pocket in the open fields, mined, with sensors, designed to detect any advance and target it rapidly with drone and artillery fire. This interpretation is consistent with the artillery strikes visible in the area on Clement Molin’s (@clement_molin) map (map 2), and with videos of Russian units seen progressing through it.

It is also important to point out that soldiers raising flags are not DRG (Deep Reconnaissance Groups), but forward assault groups. By definition, DRG do not reveal their positions to raise flags; but operate way behind enemy lines, for sabotage, targeting or mapping of enemy positions. In this instance at Ternuvate and the other villages the AFU had scarce positions able to stop progress, which were overrun by the small Russian units and drones. The extensive targeting of hideouts, and last mile logistics by Russian drones in recent months aims explicitly at weakening forward positions to support small assault tactics.

The recent successful Ukrainian counter attacks (blue arrows in map 1) will likely restore control to the villages. The fact armored columns were used and immediately targeted by Russian drones in those attempts is itself an indicator the area outside the village was under Russian control, while the village itself was contested.

When the grey zone properly applies

The grey zone itself should therefore be reserved for very specific situations: areas of genuinely unclear control where both sides are visibly operating. Kupyansk city is a relevant example, as conflicting footage shows activity by both sides in different sectors. The same applies to Kostyantynivka, where multiple Russian forward assault detachments have been geolocated recently, indicating that the southern part of the city and central areas should be mapped as a grey zone.

By contrast, open fields between positions are rarely, if ever, grey zones and should not be mapped as such. Treating every exposed area as contested dilutes the concept and reduces analytical clarity, especially because bypassed isolated positions, with a couple of soldiers in hiding who could not evacuate on time, do not equate to the ability to operate and negate control.

On mapping methodologies and criticism

Criticism directed at some mappers for rarely employing grey zones is therefore unfounded. Their practice of assigning control when one side is the only actor operating in an area is doctrinally sound, especially if it wants to show the most forward advances in a dynamic way.

That said, caution is always necessary. Flag-raising footage can be staged, manipulated, or misdated, as seen in Pokrovsk with Skala’s photoshopped and recycled imagery. Likewise, single-man infiltrations do not necessarily constitute meaningful control if they are behind clearly established enemy lines. In this respect, DeepState was justified in keeping the northern part of Pokrovsk classified as grey zone for longer.

DeepState’s approach is itself valid, as it aims to provide a high degree of certainty about the situation at a given moment. However, its political alignment sometimes results in entire areas being excluded from mapping, which can delay the acknowledgment of advances. Kostyantynivka again illustrates this tendency: while the city should be depicted as a grey zone, much of the southern suburbs and adjacent fields should already be shown as Russian-controlled, given the prolonged absence of active Ukrainian units there.

Conclusion

In conclusion, control is about maintaining physical influence sufficient to deny meaningful enemy use of an area. It is not about supply stability, drone threats, or immunity from fires. The grey zone is an abstract concept intended to describe specific contested environments, primarily urban or complex terrain, and it should be applied sparingly. Overusing it does not make a map more cautious or more accurate, on the contrary, it risks weakening the story the map is meant to tell.

The fall of Stepnohirsk does not signal an imminent collapse of Ukrainian defenses. It does, however, remove one of the last structural anchors south of Zaporizhzhia, and in positional warfare, the loss of structure often matters more than the loss of ground.

Antoine-Henri Jomini in “The Art of War“ describes locations such as Stepnohirsk as Decisive Points, capable of exercising a marked influence either upon the result of a campaign or upon a single enterprise; summarized as a fundamental principle of war:

“To throw by strategic movements the mass of an army, successively, upon the decisive points of a theater of war, and also upon the communications of the enemy as much as possible without compromising one’s own.”

This analysis explains why Stepnohirsk mattered in the Ukrainian defensive architecture, how its loss reshapes the operational balance, and what developments are likely to follow.

Why Stepnohirsk Mattered (Map 4)

At first glance, Stepnohirsk appears marginal. It was a small town near the Dnipro River with only a few thousand inhabitants before the war. Its importance, however, lay not in its population but in its structure and position.

Stepnohirsk contained the only concrete, multi-story Soviet-era apartment blocks within roughly a 50km radius, excluding Zaporizhzhia city itself. Alongside Zaporizhzhia and the E105 highway connecting them, this made the town a critical defensive anchor. Functionally, it played a role comparable to Vuhledar in southern Donetsk, acting as a hardened node in otherwise open steppe terrain.

From these elevated structures, Ukrainian forces could dominate the surrounding agricultural plains, observe and interdict approaches through Kamianske, and anchor the first defensive line extending toward Orikhiv. The town also provided protected staging areas for drones, logistics, and command elements. In open terrain warfare, such structural strongpoints are decisive, and Stepnohirsk was one of the last of its kind south of Zaporizhzhia.

The Battle and Its Immediate Effects

In early October, Russian command assigned two elite air assault regiments from the 7th Guards Airborne Division to seize Stepnohirsk (See OOB Map from @WarUnitObserver). After nearly three months of intense and costly fighting, the town fell in December 2025.

This outcome materially alters the operational situation in the sector. The fall of Vuhledar previously triggered the gradual collapse of approximately 3000 km2 in southern Donetsk. In a similar manner, the loss of Stepnohirsk now threatens to unravel the two principal defensive lines protecting northern Zaporizhzhia Oblast.

Operational Advantages Gained by Russian Forces

With Stepnohirsk secured, Russian forces gain a forward operational hub that fundamentally changes their ability to conduct sustained operations. The town’s high-rise buildings and extensive basements provide protected space for command posts, logistics, and drone operations. This allows assault units, FPV teams, and engineers to stage far closer to the line than was possible from Kamianske alone.

Logistical cycles are shortened considerably. Ammunition resupply, casualty evacuation, and unit rotation can now occur faster and with reduced exposure. Artillery and drone operators can be positioned forward without excessive strain on supply routes. Most importantly, the first Ukrainian defensive line is no longer something that must be assaulted frontally; it can now be bypassed and attacked from the flank.

This represents a classic case of forward logistical compression. Rather than producing an immediate breakthrough, it enables a higher operational tempo, more persistent probing attacks, and an improved ability to exploit local Ukrainian setbacks as they occur.

Terrain and Seasonal Factors (Map 1)

Under normal conditions, the Khonka River and its delta north of Stepnohirsk would form a formidable natural obstacle on the southern approach to Zaporizhzhia city, which lies only about 15km away. However, satellite imagery indicates that the delta has dried out completely south of Malokaterynivka.

Russian DRG are already reported to be crossing this area and operating near Malokaterynivka itself. Ukrainian positions held by the 128th Mountain Brigade appear increasingly compromised. As winter deepens, the remaining muddy ground will freeze, removing the last major mobility constraint. This will enable easier infantry movement and mechanized assaults, albeit across largely uncovered terrain.

(Fortifications map courtesy of @Playfra0)

Likely Next Phase: Incremental Pressure Rather Than Rapid Manoeuvre (Map 1)

From Stepnohirsk, Russian operations are likely to develop gradually rather than through a rapid operational breakthrough. The expected pattern is one of incremental advances designed to destabilize the final defensive node network protecting Zaporizhzhia city, centered on Komyshuvakha, Yurkivka, and Orikhiv.

The following axes describe the main vectors of pressure rather than discrete or sequential offensives. They are intended to operate in parallel and mutually reinforce one another.

Axis A: Infiltration Toward the Southern Suburbs of Zaporizhzhia

A narrow corridor of dacha settlements, in places only 300m wide, creates a unique opportunity for small VDV assault groups to infiltrate northward. Limited mechanized elements could cross the frozen Khonka River and push close to the outskirts of the city while flanking secondary defensive lines.

In this sector, the Ukrainian defensive depth is less than 15km, meaning that nearly all movement would take place under persistent Russian drone and artillery observation. The objective here is not a sudden breakthrough but the sustained compression and attrition of Ukrainian brigades defending the southern approaches to the city.

This area is almost certainly heavily fortified, with reinforced buildings, basements, anti-tank ditches extending into urban zones, remote-controlled firing positions, and extensive minefields. As a result, fighting here would be slow and costly, but highly effective at exhausting defenders.

Axis B: Mechanized Pressure Toward Komyshuvakha

Komyshuvakha functions as the main logistical and command hub for this sector of the front. Fixing its garrison in place is essential to prevent the redistribution of Ukrainian reserves.

The town lies roughly 15km from Stepnohirsk across terrain that is suitable for armored maneuver. However, its approaches are protected by two layered defensive belts consisting of anti-tank ditches, dragon’s teeth, and wire obstacles. Only engineer-supported mechanized assaults have any chance of penetrating these positions. Progress along this axis would likely be slow and costly, but it remains indispensable for enabling deeper operational effects elsewhere.

It is worth noting that Russian DRG have been reported in Novoyakovlivka half way between the towns, supportint the hypothesis that infantry will clear and recon the assault axis before armored columns can be employed.

Axis C: Flanking Advance Toward Yurkivka and the Rear of Orikhiv

This axis represents the most immediate opportunity created by the capture of Stepnohirsk. The first defensive line has already been bypassed, allowing mechanized forces to maneuver toward the rear of Orikhiv and, more importantly, toward Yurkivka.

Available imagery suggests that Yurkivka lacks the dense anti-tank obstacles present elsewhere. Although it lies approximately 25km from current Russian forward positions, incremental advances across the high ground could bring it within reach. Reports of Russian DRG activity in Novoyakovlivka are particularly significant, as the village sits astride a road network leading toward Yurkivka and across the first defensive line. Its capture would enable engineering work to open an additional southern reinforcement axis and place Orikhiv’s supply routes under direct threat.

Axis D: Fixation Pressure on the Orikhiv Sector

Throughout this process, the Orikhiv garrison must remain engaged to prevent it from reinforcing Yurkivka. A direct assault on Orikhiv itself is unlikely to succeed in the near term. However, the fall of Mala Tokmachka could enable infiltration and further strain the defenders.

Orikhiv is assumed to be defensible only as long as its final supply line via Yurkivka remains open. The Omelnyk axis remains difficult to contest at this stage, though it could come under increasing pressure from renewed activity along the Huliaipole axis.

Forces Likely to Be Committed (Map 2)

Executing pressure along all four axes exceeds the capabilities of the two VDV regiments currently deployed. A gradual commitment of additional forces should therefore be expected. This likely includes a motorized rifle brigade from the 58th Combined Arms Army, possibly the 19th, to increase pressure along the Orikhiv line.

There is also a realistic possibility that the newly formed 49th Air Assault Brigade, equipped with BMP-3 infantry fighting vehicles and reportedly sighted in the sector (See the map by @Pouletvolant3), could be employed to lead mechanized pushes toward Komyshuvakha.

Artillery reinforcement is equally likely. A full artillery brigade (6 Howitzer and 3 MLRS Batteries) could blanket the entire frontage up to Orikhiv in depth (See Map of estimated ranges), while lighter systems such as D-30 howitzers could be moved forward despite counterbattery risks into the salient, likely when it reaches a 10km radius. Stepnohirsk’s high-rise structures enabled supply allow this forward deployment without excessive logistical exposure, compressing the defense into a narrow space to operate in front of Zaporizhzhia city.

Special thanks to @Gegelebelier for his detailed insights and advice on artillery deployments and usage.

Wider Southern Front Context (Map 3)

Viewed at the operational scale, two terrain objectives stand out across the southern front toward Huliaipole. The first is the high ground above Yurkivka, whose loss would sever the crescent of defensive nodes protecting Zaporizhzhia. The second is the village of Zaliznychne, situated on the highest elevation between the two main defensive lines.

Russian reconnaissance activity around Zaliznychne suggests preparatory efforts to breach both lines and move north along dominant terrain. Combined with pressure from Stepnohirsk, such an operation would severely strain Ukrainian defensive coherence across the entire southern front.

Strategic Implications for the Defender

The cumulative effect of these developments presents Ukraine with a difficult strategic dilemma. The defensive battlespace is becoming increasingly compressed, placing nearly the entire depth of the defense under Russian medium-range artillery coverage. With the fall of Stepnohirsk, there are no longer major urban strongpoints comparable to Pokrovsk or Kostyantynivka to fix the attacker.

At the same time, Zaporizhzhia itself, a city of approximately half a million people, risks coming within tube artillery range shortly. This is not just a logistical hub and the approach of tube artillery range would force difficult political and humanitarian decisions long before military difficulty arises.

Any large-scale evacuation would constitute a severe blow to morale and would significantly complicate logistics and defensive focus.

While civil engineering efforts behind the visible defensive lines are almost certainly ongoing, once the current obstacle belts are breached, defenders face largely even terrain extending for nearly 60km.

A lot hinges on the ability to hold back Russian advances at the eastern defensive line along the Haichuur river, between Ternuvate and Zalisnychne, and the availability of reserves to contain the Russians in the narrow salient south of the Khonka river.

Conclusion

The capture of Stepnohirsk is not a minor tactical success but an operational inflection point. What follows is unlikely to be sudden. Instead, it will likely take the form of sustained pressure, logistical compression, and the gradual erosion of Ukrainian defensive coherence which endurance will be tested.

In modern positional warfare, such processes are often decisive long before a frontline visibly breaks.

More to follow.

UA Control Map 2025 Summary

This is an attritional war where the side that can maintain organizational coherence longer, not innovate faster or suffer less, will determine the outcome.

1. Russian Economic Resilience

The Russian economy remains years away from any level of strain that would compel the political leadership to reconsider the war effort. Strikes on refineries and sanctions have had limited real impact. What is observable instead is a structural reconfiguration consistent with a wartime economy, notably a shift of industrial capacity toward defense sectors.

This trajectory is far from ideal and carries risks of overheating due to sustained defense expenditures. However, when compared with comparable 20th-century conflicts, the system has proven remarkably resilient.

2. Widening Force Imbalance

The force imbalance has increased. OSINT indicators suggest a convergence of losses in both personnel and vehicles, particularly when desertions are factored in. This trend is unsurprising given the intensification of forced conscription in Ukraine, which likely explains the current spike in opened cases.

In effect, the Russian expeditionary force has expanded in 2025, while the Armed Forces of Ukraine (AFU) have contracted. This is most clearly demonstrated by Russia’s sustained ability to conduct offensive operations across up to seven key sectors simultaneously.

While casualties have increased on both sides due to the scale and intensity of operations, the net balance has continued to shift.

3. Accelerating Technological Adaptation

Technological innovation continues to accelerate on both sides:

• 3D printing

• Fiber-optic drones

• UGVs

• Drone “motherships”

• AI-controlled swarms

• Decision-intelligence solutions

These developments are forcing constant tactical adaptation. However, they remain force multipliers rather than strategic-level differentiators.

4. Russian Lead in Tactical Innovation

Russia has taken a clear lead in tactical experimentation and deployment, including:

• Motorcycle assault units

• Forward assault detachments

• “Turtle tanks”

• Fixed artillery positions

• Centralization of drone operators (e.g., Rubicon-style structures)

Not all initiatives have been successful, but the pattern is instructive. Centralized decision-making, often slower to adapt initially, has enabled faster deployment at scale once concepts are validated.

In this positional warfare context, maneuver can only restart once one side’s combat capacity degrades sufficiently. Russian command rigidity at upper echelons, often perceived as a weakness, is therefore being applied in this phase as a strength, though it will require further adaptation later on.

5. Territorial Gains and Operational Impact

Russia captured approximately 5,000 km² in 2025 (averaged across multiple mapping sources) and, more importantly, overtook most of the Donbas “fortress city” belt, including:

• Pokrovsk

• Siversk

• Huliaipole

• Yampil

This leaves the Sloviansk–Kramatorsk agglomeration increasingly exposed heading into 2026. This operational reality is the primary reason negotiations remain unproductive at present.

6. Ukraine’s Diminishing Offensive Capacity

For the first time, Ukraine was unable to conduct any sizeable offensive operation. The Kupyansk counterattack relied heavily on special forces and was only capable of contesting the city against one of the weakest segments of the Russian deployment along the front.

This aligns with earlier points and reflects a structural degradation of Ukrainian combat potential, particularly following the loss of maneuver elements and strategic reserves at scale during operations in Kursk.

Outlook for 2026

Overall, this summary is well worth reading, but caution is warranted when drawing strategic conclusions. No drastic change in operational tempo should be expected in 2026.

Russia’s winter campaign, much like last year’s, is likely to prioritize continued attrition of the AFU while establishing primary siege lines in northern Donetsk.

“The war will be decided not by a single battle, but by which nation can endure the strain the longer.”
— Erich Ludendorff, The Nation at War (1935)

The apparent asymmetry often observed in public debate largely reflects differences in recording practices, certification timelines, body-recovery capacity, and legal confirmation procedures, rather than substantial variation in overall losses.

The objective of this analysis is not to estimate total casualties, but to identify comparable trends by clarifying how available data are structured and recorded. Widely circulated falsified or unverifiable leaked documents discussed this year on both sides are therefore excluded. The focus is limited to by-name OSINT documented sources and official administrative records.

Scope and Definitions

Two tiers of irrecoverable personnel losses are examined:

• Irreversible combat losses
  Confirmed KIA plus MIA assessed as likely KIA

• Irreversible force-availability losses
  Combat losses plus desertion and long-term AWOL

As Clausewitz cautioned, analysis operates under unavoidable uncertainty:

“The great uncertainty of all data in war is a peculiar difficulty, because all action must, to a certain extent, be planned in a mere twilight.”
— On War, Book I

1. Confirmed Fatalities (KIA): The Direct Evidence

Named and confirmed fatalities constitute the most verifiable and least ambiguous category of wartime losses. These cases are typically documented through obituary notices, official registries, or published death certificates. Individuals in this category have undergone legal confirmation, and families have completed formal settlement procedures.

Publicly verifiable records for 2025 (as of early December):

Russia (Mediazona)

• ~29,000 named soldiers with deaths dated to 2025

Ukraine (UALosses)

• ~11,500 soldiers with publicly confirmed deaths dated to 2025

• ~11,000 additional individuals registered as deceased with unclear dates

Applying proportional temporal distribution yields an estimated ~15,000 confirmed fatalities attributable to 2025.

At this stage, Russian losses appear significantly higher. However, this discrepancy primarily reflects administrative timing differences, not underlying loss dynamics.

2. Administrative Backlog and Russian MIA Conversion Into Casualty Records

Russian data for 2025 include a substantial volume of formal death-recognition procedures processed through legal institutions.

Mediazona identified ~80,000 new entries across monitored systems in 2025. This figure does not represent real-time disappearance events, but rather the legal formalization of cases previously known at unit or institutional level.

Mediazona’s breakdown indicates:

• ~8,000 non-war civilian deaths

• The majority represent delayed administrative processing of battlefield deaths accumulated over multiple years

• A high proportion of filings originate from military institutions, indicating state-initiated confirmation rather than attempt at concealing information

• Legal confirmation is required to activate inheritance, pensions, and dependent compensation

The net effect of this process is a delayed conversion of battlefield losses into legally recognized fatalities. Consequently, interpreting the full 2025 volume as deaths occurring in that year would be analytically misleading.

After excluding non-war cases and delayed confirmations from prior years, a realistic segmentation suggests ~30,000–40,000 deaths attributable to the 2025 calendar year.

3. Interpreting MIA Registries

Recorded disappearance figures differ sharply between Russia and Ukraine, but these differences primarily reflect institutional and procedural structures, not casualty rates.

Ukraine (official registry)

~40,000 individuals received disappearance dates in 2025 (predominantly men of military age) compared to ~30,000 in 2024.

This increase reflects both rising losses and several contributing factors:

• Public, searchable, continuously updated MIA database

• Increasing difficulty of body recovery during withdrawals and in siege conditions

• Suspension of compensation payments until formal death confirmation puts a strain on state budget, forcing a gradual recognition process.

• Rapid expansion of digital reporting infrastructure since 2022

Sources:
https://lostarmour.info/ukr_mia

https://ualosses.org/en/soldiers/

Russia (visibility comparison)

Russian disappearance figures appear ~20% lower, largely because many cases enter the system directly as delayed legal death confirmations rather than public MIA entries.

The administrative backlog identified by Mediazona therefore represents the Russian equivalent of unresolved cases, but processed through legal recognition rather than public missing-person registries. In aggregate, both systems appear to reflect a similar total unresolved caseload, on the order of ~80,000 MIA since the start of the war.

Key contextual differences:

• Greater Russian body-recovery access on controlled territory

• Ukrainian losses become visible earlier (MIA precedes confirmation)

• Russia processes losses retrospectively through administrative channels, while Ukraine records them prospectively from operational reporting.

Side note: Additional Russian MIA may exist, but no OSINT database allows comparison. As shown in Section 6, conclusions remain unchanged.

4. Foreign Fighters as a Proxy Indicator

Although not representative of total force composition, foreign-fighter fatalities in the AFU provide a useful trend proxy.

Available data show a ~59% increase in foreign-fighter combat deaths in 2025 versus the previous year.

• ~15 KIA/month (2023)

• ~23/month → ~39/month (2024–2025)

• >50/month during summer 2025

Source: LostArmor

While limited in scale, this pattern is directionally consistent with other indicators of rising personnel losses.

5. AWOL and Desertion as Definitive Losses

A critical feature of administrative classification concerns individuals who leave their units outside combat missions. If a serviceman has an active AWOL or desertion status, the family or unit’s request for official recognition as missing cannot be validated. Legally, an individual cannot be simultaneously classified as missing and as absent without authorization, which prevents duplication.

Thus, MIA registries overwhelmingly imply death or unreported capture, while unauthorized absences are tracked separately.

Desertion represents a definitive loss of military capacity: return rates are low, sentences are severe (~15 years imprisonment on both sides, risk of being sent to assault units), and significant resources are required to pursue absentees.

Estimated desertion and AWOL losses in 2025

Ukraine

• ~170,000 total

  • ~54,000 deserters

  • ~117,000 definitive AWOL

Based on Frontelligence estimates assuming ~50% eventual return from ~235,000 AWOL cases registered.

Source:

Frontelligence Insight

Inside Ukraine’s Desertion Crisis: Analysis and Numbers

Debate about Ukrainian soldiers who go absent without leave and about desertion has intensified, but the scale of the problem is still widely misunderstood. Public discussion leans on speculation because no reliable, unified reporting system exists. How many troops actually desert, how authorities respond, and what happens after they are caught remains unclear even among many Ukrainians…

Read more

9 months ago · 63 likes · 2 comments · Frontelligence Insight

Russia

• ~20,000 desertion cases officially in process at Russian military courts (How Russia hunts down deserters and forces them back to the front lines in Ukraine)

• AWOL not publicly available but by applying a comparable ratio for both sides, it yields ~40,000 additional definitive AWOL over the course of the war (2x the deserters cases). It is possibly higher, but this maintains consistency of method (50% of AWOLs return) and sources

Source (for calculation reference):

Frontelligence Insight

Silent Exodus: Rising Desertions in the Russian Army

Our research, based on tens of thousands of personal records, shows that the typical deserter in the Russian army is a 37-year-old male under contract, and that his chance of desertion in 2025 doubled compared with 2024. If the desertion trend continues, we estimate at least 70,000 deserters in the Russian army this year - roughly 10% of the entire forc…

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a year ago · 96 likes · 7 comments · Frontelligence Insight

Available indicators suggest Russia’s sustained offensive posture and retained strategic initiative contribute to lower relative desertion, though enforcement mechanisms are strict on both sides.

6. Normalized Loss Equivalence (2025)

Irreversible combat losses Convergence

Russia

• ~29,000 confirmed deaths

• ~30,000–40,000 administrative conversions attributable to 2025

• Total: ~59,000–69,000

Ukraine

• ~15,000 confirmed deaths

• ~40,000 MIA entries traceable to 2025

• Total: ~55,000

Including desertion & long-term AWOL (2025 normalized)

Ukraine

• ~85,000 definitive AWOL (50% of ~170k cases for the year. Note: this may include backlog from 2024 which we take into account in our conclusions)

• ~24,000 deserters

• Total force-availability losses: ~109,000

Russia

• Due to limited transparency and the exclusion of leaked documents, a conservative modeling approach is applied.

• Assuming ~50% of known cases occurred in 2025, to account for the evident growing losses, yields an estimate of ~30,000 deserters, approximately one-third of the Ukrainian total.

This differential is consistent with several structural factors:

• Greater reliance on short-term (1-year) volunteer contracts in the Russian force structure, less likely to abandon post than men conscripted for the duration of the war.

• Higher morale retention typically associated with sustained offensive momentum.

• Prolonged exposure of Ukrainian forces to static defensive conditions under heavy fire (FAB), and besieged warfare conditions

• High turnover due to heavy losses among Russian assault units, obviously reducing opportunities for desertion.

Estimated total irreversible force-availability losses (2025)

• Russia: ~89,000–99,000

• Ukraine: ~164,000

While OSINT and official records suggest combat casualties converge toward parity, Ukraine experiences substantially higher losses once desertion and AWOL are included.

“Strategy must reckon not only with the enemy’s losses, but with the limits of its own endurance.”
— A. Svechin, Strategy

7. Strategic Interpretation

Based on data available, personnel combat losses for both sides rose steadily in 2025 relative to 2024, plausibly by 20–30% according to preliminary calculations. OSINT armored-vehicle-loss records align with this trend, showing parity in 2025 but a ~60% year-on-year increase on the Ukrainian side: Analysis on 2025 Armor Loss Trends

This increase has less to do with de-mechanization as often stated, but more with the higher tempo of operations imposed by Russian forces. Contrary to previous years where operations remained relatively focused on 1 to 3 intense sectors, 2025 has seen offensive efforts front-wide, with up to 7 siege battles in parallel, logically leading to rising casualties.

Both sides experienced severe degradation in force availability. However, recording mechanisms remain asymmetrical, and from a military standpoint convergence in losses does not imply parity in strategic posture.

Russia currently appears to benefit from a more effective force-generation system, which may exacerbate combat-capacity imbalance despite similar levels of attrition.

The balance of evidence suggests that while Russia may have incurred slightly higher combat losses, Ukraine faced a sharper escalation in desertion and long-term AWOL, significantly amplifying its unavailable manpower pool heading into 2026.

This conclusion may appear counterintuitive, but it reflects the most consistent inference across available OSINT and administrative datasets, as well as the reality on the ground. Ukraine’s remarkable resilience and defensive performance cannot obscure the mounting cost of defending every square kilometer; military and economical endurance will determine this war’s outcome.

Additional sources are provided below so readers may form their own assessments on this sensitive topic.

Food for thought.

https://istories.media/en/stories/2025/05/20/under-the-weight-of-cargo-500/

https://theins.ru/en/confession/286662

https://meduza.io/en/feature/2025/11/04/how-many-soldiers-have-russia-and-ukraine-lost-and-how-do-their-armies-compare

https://meduza.io/en/feature/2024/02/29/dueling-claims-on-ukrainian-losses

https://www.crisisgroup.org/europe-central-asia/eastern-europe/ukraine/mobilisation-peacemaking-and-deterrence-ukraine

This trend was already visible in my pre-summer update, but the current data makes it undeniable. Russia’s industrial strategy, structured under Belousov to support operations through 2030 and potentially beyond, required stabilizing annual armored losses below ~3,000 units, enabling new production to compensate for the majority of losses. As of late 2025, this target has been effectively achieved.

Loss Levels as of December 2025

• Both sides have now suffered roughly equivalent total armored losses this year (~2,350 units).

• Even when isolating heavy armor, the difference is negligible: since May, the average loss rate has hovered around ~130 units/month for each side.

The critical point is that Ukrainian losses are increasing, despite a decrease in Russian attrition. Russia’s losses declined largely due to more restrictive application of armored units, concentrated primarily on local assaults against villages since April. Meanwhile, Ukraine’s losses are accelerating.

Notably, 2025 is the worst year for Ukrainian armored attrition since the war began, with losses rising approximately 59% compared to 2024.

Thus, observers should not focus solely on Russia’s reduced deployment of armor when interpreting these figures, but rather on the heightened rate of fleet depletion on the Ukrainian side.

Operational Context and Contributing Factors

These loss increases occurred during a period in which the AFU has essentially been conducting static, positional defenses. Personnel casualties appear to be increasingly comparable on both sides.

Several trends contribute directly:

1. Siege-style engagements along the Donbas defensive belt
   These have slowed Russian advances but imposed disproportionate attrition on Ukrainian equipment.

2. Russian operational encirclements and pressure on logistics corridors
   Improved Russian UAV capabilities, now exceeding Ukraine’s in scale and battlefield integration, particularly under the Rubicon program, have increasingly threatened narrow supply routes, dramatically increasing vehicle losses.

3. AFU counterattacks along the entire front
   While tactically necessary to slow Russian penetration at fortified sectors, these counteractions induced notable losses in personnel and armor, reinforcing Ukraine’s unfavorable attrition curve. Tye lack of personnel to conduct those actions have led to a surge in rarefied MBT (usually in pairs) counter attacking in occupied villages to prevent Russian consolidation. (Lyman, Mala Tokmachka, Rodynske…)

Artillery Loss Dynamics

Since September, Ukraine has also incurred higher artillery losses, despite being roughly equal over the year overall. In positional warfare:

• Self-propelled systems are harder to conceal, shown in increased losses of Bogdanas SPG

• They are forced into exposed firing positions inside localized “cauldron” battles to support the garrisons,

• And sustained, improved Russian counter-battery effectiveness (and ISR), has made artillery survivability increasingly uncertain.

Consequently, artillery degradation now compounds armored attrition.

Strategic Implications

Russia has reduced its losses to sustainable levels, almost entirely offset by new production or refurbishment, and is expanding its fleet even while intensifying ground advances.

Ukraine, by contrast, is losing armored and artillery systems way faster than they can be replaced. Current replenishment avenues are limited to modest local IMV production and small-scale residual donations.

If doctrine remains unchanged going into 2026, Ukraine may face:

• Diminished defensive mobility,

• Lower counter-attack capability,

• Reduced ability to hold open terrains against an opponent able to focus its assaults lengthwise,

• And degraded response flexibility once away from fixed fortress-city environments.

Future defensive lines in open terrain, especially outside urban belt, will require maneuver, reserve employment, and local counterattacks to remain viable, as demonstrated this fall in the Zaporizhzhia sector.

The evidence points toward a worsening attrition imbalance in 2026 unless Ukraine adapts operational doctrine and secures material replenishment at a meaningful scale. Static defense alone will not preserve combat capacity against a supply-stabilized Russian force with expanding fleet depth and increasingly efficient strike capabilities.

Drawing on an assessment of losses, reactivation rates, and new production, supported by Jompy @Jonpy99’s OSINT work on Russian open-air storage sites and additional sources listed in my final post, I developed a projection model similar to the one used previously for Ukraine.

According to the simulation (see Table 1), the 2025 fleet shows:

• MBTs and IFVs: slight decline relative to pre-war volumes

• APCs: sharp increase of 38%

• Overall total: from a pre-war inventory of 19,900 vehicles to roughly 20,900 in 2025

Looking ahead, and assuming conservative production and reactivation levels in 2026, the fleet is projected to peak around 23,000 vehicles before gradually declining as Soviet-era storage stocks are depleted. Even so, the model suggests that totals should not fall below pre-war levels before 2030. By that time, refurbishment capacity will likely shift to additional new production, not matching today’s total output but sufficient to offset current loss rates. A second scenario, of course, is that the war ends and new production is redirected toward replenishing the most modern classes of equipment.

1. Loss Estimates Adjusted by +15%

While the Oryx database remains comprehensive, a 15% upward adjustment is applied to account for unrecorded losses. Damaged vehicles are included to capture non-combat attrition: accidents, breakdowns, and so on.

Compared with Ukraine, for which I used a +25% factor, Russia’s superior recovery infrastructure and sustained territorial advances over two years enable more efficient towing and repair of damaged vehicles, justifying a lower adjustment. Newer “turtle tank” configurations also appear more resilient after immobilization, resulting in fewer total write-offs.

For projections beyond 2025, an average annual loss figure of 2,676 vehicles is used.

Note: For consistency, BTR-82s are classified as APCs, not IFVs as in Oryx.

2. Reactivation Phase Expected to End by 2027

Russia entered the war with roughly 26,000 vehicles in storage, of which 16,000 have since been pulled from depots (visible via satellite). For this model, all are assumed to have been reactivated, without assessing for ongoing refurbishment timelines.

To incorporate cannibalization rates, critical given the variable condition of stored materiel, I applied the following weighting:

• Decent (1:1): one stored vehicle yields one operational vehicle

• Poor (2:1): two stored vehicles required for one operational vehicle

• Worse (3:1): three stored vehicles required for one operational vehicle

This yields an effective, weighted storage pool of 18,800 vehicles, leaving 5,800 vehicles available for reactivation (weighted) as of December 2025.

At current refurbishment throughput, only marginal, non-viable hulls will remain by 2027, ending the reactivation phase. From that point onward, new production alone will cover losses.

For Ukraine, I had applied “worse” cannibalization assumptions across all stored vehicles due to extensive aging, poor storage conditions, and limited access to spare parts.

3. New Production Has Doubled Since 2022

This remains the most uncertain variable, as publicly available OSINT data is limited. However, based on industry reports, expert discussions, financial statements, and workforce changes, I estimate:

• Annual production has doubled since pre-war levels, reaching approximately 1,330 vehicles per year across all categories.

For MBTs, I previously detailed that 80 units/year is a likely minimum, consistent with multiple independent assessments (see attached CIT study).

The most significant growth is in the IFV sector:

• Pre-war production at Kurganmashzavod: ~70 vehicles/year (for both BMP-3 and BMD-4)

• Late 2010s peak: 150+ vehicles/year

• Current output after four years of war: likely 200+ vehicles/year, consistent with factory statements claiming a tripling of peacetime output

Storage stocks contain only a few dozen BMP-3 hulls, suggesting current IFV totals reflect primarily new production. KMZ’s financial and staffing expansion (almost doubling workforce) supports growth to the current level, while making significantly higher output unlikely at present. Further monitoring is required for future updates.

4. Captured Equipment Remains Marginal

Captured equipment plays a negligible role in total force structure.

A 1:4 ratio is used to estimate the portion of captured vehicles reintroduced into Russian service. While Russia can refurbish Soviet-era equipment more easily than Ukraine, many foreign systems can only serve as trophies.

5. Projections: Russia Is Not Exhausting Its Armored Reserves

Modeling forward with constant 2025 loss levels and stable new production, the total fleet remains above 2022 levels through at least 2030.

However, the internal composition shifts:

• MBT and IFV shares decline in both proportion and absolute numbers, though not to critical levels.

• APCs and other support categories remain abundant.

Even with changes to assumptions (lower production, higher losses, lower 2022 active fleet or harsher cannibalization) the core conclusion holds: Russia maintains a fleet at least comparable to pre-war strength, roughly 19,000+ vehicles. They have reactivated an incredible quantity of vehicles, enough to offset losses suffered so far.

Meanwhile, armored assaults remain a consistent tactic, with monthly losses in the low hundreds during such operations. These vehicles remain essential for assaulting fortified positions, though increasingly paired with light motorbike units and infiltration-oriented assault teams.

Recent imagery from Russian rear areas shows growing reserves and training formations, suggesting the formation of strategic armored reserves. Their intended purpose remains open to interpretation: potential future operations in Ukraine, regional deterrence, or both.

As for the reason why armored formations have reduced frontline visibility, several explanations exist. My view is that current availability meets present tactical requirements in a drone-dominated environment, while manpower constraints also limit the deployment of large armored formations and supporting infantry units together.

Sources (selected):

https://armstrade.org/includes/periodics/news/2023/0904/094575075/detail.shtml

https://defensemirror.com/news/39869/Russia_Begins_Mass_Production_of_Typhoon_PVO_Combat_Vehicle#:~:text=%E2%80%9CThe%20Typhoon%2DPVO%20combat%20vehicle,armed%20forces%20on%20the%20battlefield.%E2%80%9D

Trench Art

Simple and Available, the Wheeled BTR-82 Is the Russian Military's Vehicular Future

In preparation for a renewed push against the Ukrainian salient in western Russia’s Kursk Oblast last week, the Kremlin reportedly delivered to the Russian navy’s 810th Naval Infantry Brigade—holding positions just north of the 270-square-mile salient, which a powerful…

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2 years ago · 18 likes · David Axe

https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/03071847.2024.2392990#d1e101

https://pure-oai.bham.ac.uk/ws/portalfiles/portal/249463330/Military_Production_in_Russia_Before_and_After_the_Start_of_the_War_With_Ukraine.pdf

https://jamestown.org/russias-kurganmashzavod-factory-data-shows-the-limits-of-bmp-3-production-rates/

https://notes.citeam.org/eng_t90

When analyzing any peace proposal, it is crucial to approach it from a prospective angle:

What happens if we accept it? What happens if we do not? Will the alternative be worse, or is there a realistic path to improving our position?

Absent a decisive shift in European and Ukrainian strategic planning, the U.S. proposal, imperfect as it is, may represent the last viable framework before conditions deteriorate significantly.

At the current pace of front-line deterioration, the Sloviansk/Kramatorsk area, even if not fully captured, would likely be under direct siege by next summer. Once that happens, just as with Pokrovsk, no peace plan that excludes territorial concessions in Donbas will retain practical meaning. I wrote a few months ago, during the previous attempt to freeze the conflict along the contact line, that such efforts cannot succeed while major cities remain besieged. Maintaining control under those conditions: limited supplies, sniper pressure, and constant operational constraints, is purely hypothetical.

In my view, this is the last window for such a negotiation about Donbas.

Moreover, any such negotiation would take months to materialize into a definitive agreement. Even if both sides agreed to discuss the U.S. proposal as a basis, we would not see signatures, and silence on the battlefield, before spring 2026 at the earliest. At the current rate of advance, another 3,000 km², maybe more, would fall by that point. For context, the two areas I highlighted in green on the map represent roughly 4,500 km², essentially everything remaining of strategic value in the two contested oblasts. The longer the process drags on, the worse the situation becomes and Russia closes in on its main objectives.

Maps ISW and Deepstate

By the summer of 2026, Russia may be approaching both Zaporizhzhia and Pavlohrad. At that stage, Moscow’s incentive to accept a demilitarized zone or to allow the use of frozen Russian assets for Ukraine’s reconstruction will be minimal. Two broad scenarios could then unfold:

1. Continued Russian offensive:
   Russia maintains operational tempo and pushes further into Ukraine as the AFU’s degradation continues, inflicting additional damage on infrastructure and worsening demographic decline, all while Europe struggles to sustain another year of war and budget support at around €100 billion.

2. A voluntary halt by Russia:
   Russia could choose, unilaterally, to halt operations once it has secured Donetsk oblast and the Zaporizhzhia-city region, perhaps by late 2026 or early 2027 at the current rate of advance. It could then declare victory and begin repairing diplomatic relations, likely leading to a gradual but relatively swift lifting of U.S. sanctions. This could occur earlier or later, entirely at Russia’s discretion, such is the advantage of retaining strategic initiative both militarily and geopolitically.

It is important to recognize that once the war ends, the decisive factor will be the speed at which Russia reintegrates into global trade. It is difficult to imagine that the United States and most European states would maintain sanctions if Russia simply stops the war and claims to have achieved its objectives. Perhaps not immediately, but very likely within six months. If this occurs, and global commercial realities suggest that it will, the gap between post-war Ukraine and Russia will only widen.

On one side: a state requiring >€300 billion for reconstruction, having lost up to half its pre-war population, burdened with overwhelming debt and potentially amputated of a quarter of its territory. On the other: a state that has secured key resources and ports, rebuilt elements of its war industry, and will soon again receive billions in oil and gas revenues to restore its economy.

The contrast in post-war conditions would be stark.

The Missing Strategic Vision

The “absence” of strategic vision remains the main factor driving the degradation of the Ukrainian and European position. We hear phrases such as “a just peace” or “territorial integrity”, but these are abstract concepts lacking operational meaning.

If we want Ukraine to regain strategic initiative and force Russia into an unfavorable negotiating position, the necessary operational plans and resources are nowhere near being implemented. For example:

• Where is Europe’s economic transformation plan that would free hundreds of billions of euros for long-term Ukrainian support by relieving heavily indebted economies?

• Where is a comprehensive mobilization plan in Ukraine?

These are difficult decisions, and must be put in the decision balance with regards to concessions in a peace plan.

Meanwhile, Russia has made its choices and is acting decisively to pursue its maximalist goals. As always in negotiations, leaders must ask themselves whether the marginal gain from continuing military operations is worth the cost.

Viewed from this angle, freezing the conflict now, while the remaining territory in Donetsk and Zaporizhzhia oblasts still holds significant value, may ultimately preserve more than continuing to fight. Though for obvious reasons, it would be seen as a serious defeat; akin to what happened to Finland in the 1940 winter war, when unoccupied territories were ceded to the Soviet Union in the process to end the war. The parallel ends here, as Finland had no more forces available to stop the advances and was bordering complete military collapse, this is not yet the case for Ukraine.

From a Russian standpoint, the initial primary goal of regime change cannot be obtained exclusively by military means anymore; therefore the strategic goal remain Donetsk and Zaporijia oblasts, and with a stretch: Kharkiv and Odessa. The current peace plan does not satisfy fully this ambition but is close enough, meaning the marginal gains of additional military operations could not be worth the cost, especially considering that the remaining goals may eventually be achieved by continuous political actions against an economically and politically weakened Ukrainian state.

Given the current asymmetry in strategic planning and political resolve, the likely outcome is increasingly predictable, and the current U.S. plan remains a solid basis for discussion.

Ukraine faces 'difficult choice' as Trump demands acceptance of peace plan

If we listen closely to Zelensky’s remarks as outlined in the above Reuters article, we may expect some form of counter-proposal. Its content will reveal whether European strategists influencing policy truly understand what is happening on the battlefield, and that the window for protecting Donbas is closing.

Now is the time to safeguard Dnipro and Kharkiv oblasts, or operate a paradigm change in strategic approach.