When Russia invaded Ukraine, the promise was simple: repeat history, march west, and win like the Soviet Union once did. Years later, only one part of that promise came true: the marching. The quick, decisive victory never happened. What was supposed to last days has turned into a grinding war that has already lasted longer than the Soviet fight against Nazi Germany.
The result is hard to ignore. After years of fighting, Russia controls only limited territory at an enormous cost in lives, resources, and internal stability. Entire regions inside Russia now feel the consequences directly, with power outages, infrastructure damage, and a growing sense that the war is not something happening "far away".
At the same time, the international position Moscow spent two decades building is unraveling. One by one, Russia's so-called "partners" are falling away, and the Kremlin appears unable (or unwilling) to do much about it. In the Middle East, a key ally collapsed, leaving Russia sidelined. In Latin America, another partner was neutralized by the US without any visible Russian response. Even Russian commercial interests are now being directly challenged, again without retaliation.
The uncomfortable truth is that this "anti-Western bloc" was always more image than substance. These countries were never allies in the traditional sense: no shared defense commitments, no real loyalty. They cooperated with Russia because it was useful at the time, not because they trusted it or depended on it. And when things turned risky, Moscow proved it would step back rather than step in.
Inside Russia, this is starting to register. Pro-war voices that once repeated slogans about greatness are now openly questioning why so much effort went into looking powerful instead of actually BEING powerful. The famous "we can do it again" mantra sounds hollow when compared with the reality on the ground.
The Kremlin’s response so far has been predictable: deny weakness, shift blame, and point to Western hypocrisy as proof that Russia was right all along. Others argue that the comparison with WW2 is unfair, or that society today is simply less mobilized. But these explanations don’t change the core issue: a state that claims great-power status should not look this constrained, isolated and reactive.
Putin himself remains silent on the most embarrassing setbacks, leaving others to manage the narrative. Meanwhile, Russia compensates by doubling down where it still can (mainly Ukraine), using escalation and symbolism to project strength.
This is not a sign of confidence. It's the behavior of a power trying to convince both its opponents and its own population that it is still feared. Even weakened, the Kremlin will not soften its stance. If anything, it will push harder to try and prove that decline is not defeat. And it'll keep failing.
The result is hard to ignore. After years of fighting, Russia controls only limited territory at an enormous cost in lives, resources, and internal stability. Entire regions inside Russia now feel the consequences directly, with power outages, infrastructure damage, and a growing sense that the war is not something happening "far away".
At the same time, the international position Moscow spent two decades building is unraveling. One by one, Russia's so-called "partners" are falling away, and the Kremlin appears unable (or unwilling) to do much about it. In the Middle East, a key ally collapsed, leaving Russia sidelined. In Latin America, another partner was neutralized by the US without any visible Russian response. Even Russian commercial interests are now being directly challenged, again without retaliation.
The uncomfortable truth is that this "anti-Western bloc" was always more image than substance. These countries were never allies in the traditional sense: no shared defense commitments, no real loyalty. They cooperated with Russia because it was useful at the time, not because they trusted it or depended on it. And when things turned risky, Moscow proved it would step back rather than step in.
Inside Russia, this is starting to register. Pro-war voices that once repeated slogans about greatness are now openly questioning why so much effort went into looking powerful instead of actually BEING powerful. The famous "we can do it again" mantra sounds hollow when compared with the reality on the ground.
The Kremlin’s response so far has been predictable: deny weakness, shift blame, and point to Western hypocrisy as proof that Russia was right all along. Others argue that the comparison with WW2 is unfair, or that society today is simply less mobilized. But these explanations don’t change the core issue: a state that claims great-power status should not look this constrained, isolated and reactive.
Putin himself remains silent on the most embarrassing setbacks, leaving others to manage the narrative. Meanwhile, Russia compensates by doubling down where it still can (mainly Ukraine), using escalation and symbolism to project strength.
This is not a sign of confidence. It's the behavior of a power trying to convince both its opponents and its own population that it is still feared. Even weakened, the Kremlin will not soften its stance. If anything, it will push harder to try and prove that decline is not defeat. And it'll keep failing.
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Date: 14/1/26 00:01 (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 14/1/26 19:12 (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 14/1/26 19:35 (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 14/1/26 19:12 (UTC)