Link here.

By Gilbert Doctorow, Blog, 10/11/22

Has ‘partial mobilization’ breathed full-blooded democracy into Russia’s parliamentary government structure and broader society?

It is normal to think of wartime as a period of tightened censorship and imposition of ever greater controls on society at large. Indeed, Western journalists have in the past half year focused attention on the closure of several notorious anti-Putin broadcasting companies and print media in Russia, including Rain (Dozhd’) and Novaya Gazeta. They have covered the flight of editors and staff abroad after they were labeled as ‘foreign agents’ and could expect invitations to appear before the courts.

However, in the days since the announcement by the Kremlin of ‘partial mobilization’ of the reserves, it is increasingly clear to any outside objective observer that a full blast of social activism is underway, and that the dikes of state controls on free speech are being swept away. A week ago, following reversals on the battlefield and loss of territory to the enemy that could not be ignored, members of the State Duma openly denounced the Ministry of Defense for dispensing ‘fairy tales’ about the progress of the campaign in Ukraine and demanded transparency in communications to the public. Speaker of the Duma Volodin, who is a leader of the ruling United Russia party, must have been in shock.

Meanwhile, we see on state television news reporting on the formation of private committees across the country to raise funds, procure goods and directly deliver to the new recruits clothing and other gear which the Army is not providing as it sends them off to the front. This is presented as representing a patriotic upsurge in Russian society, but on closer view it is a damning criticism of the incompetence of the powers-that-be for sending citizens off to war without the kit they need.

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In the United States, and to a lesser extent in Europe, the escalating confrontation between Russia and NATO in and over Ukraine is presented as a repetition of the actors and principles underlying the outbreak of World War II. Putin is the modern day Hitler and Western leaders must defend democratic institutions against authoritarian regimes which commit aggression against neighbors.

In Russia, the escalating confrontation is seen in different terms, as a repetition of World War I, when the leaders of the Great Powers ‘sleep walked’ into the greatest tragedy for civilization of all time by failing to see the abyss before them. If the Kremlin is not careful, the likeness of today’s developments on the home front to the situation at the start – and more importantly, at the end – of WWI may yet be proven. That war did not end well for the tsarist regime and to a very considerable extent it was brought down precisely by patriotic society.

Current Russian television footage of the send-off of the reservists in provincial cities, with busloads of recruits driving past cheering citizenry waving little flags and bouquets of flowers, bears an uncanny resemblance to vintage photos taken in Russia at the outset of The Great War. The patriotic organizations formed by local politicians to support the war effort in 1914 over time became hotbeds of open criticism of the army leadership and of the tsarist dynasty, leading to the February Revolution and forced abdication of Nicholas II. Kremlin elites have excellent memories and surely are concerned.

Why is there today such a public display of civic activism? What has happened to the passive Russian public? The one-word answer is mobilization. As Sergey Mikheev, a panelist in last night’s Vladimir Solovyov talk show explained, the mobilization has turned what was a technical operation manned by professional soldiers into a ‘people’s war’ and the people now want a say in how it is conducted.

That is a sea change in Russian domestic politics. But it was to be expected, and its emergence so quickly is precisely why the Kremlin postponed mobilization as long as it could.

A little less than a year ago, I published an essay about the passivity of the Russian citizen-taxpayer under the piquant heading “no representation without taxation,” standing on its head the call to arms that once motivated American Revolutionaries against their colonial masters in England – https://gilbertdoctorow.com/2021/11/03/no-representation-without-taxation/.

For a number of reasons, the lion’s share of the Russian state budget comes from export taxes on gas and oil, with a relatively low share coming from taxes on the average Russian citizen: income tax is set at a flat rate of 15% and property taxes on houses and apartments are close to nil, while the government assures welfare state benefits of free medical care and education to the broad population. But when the Russian citizen has a direct interest in the game, as is now the case with the mobilization of husbands and fathers, that passive citizenry can become very emotional, involved and vocal.

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Last night’s political talk show hosted by Vladimir Solovyov was outstanding for giving voice to precisely the thoughts you otherwise hear in people’s home as they talk in their kitchens with relatives and close friends. There were several noteworthy contributors to the discussion, but the most comprehensive contribution was made by Sergey Mikheev, whom I briefly cited above. He was given the microphone for ten minutes or more, was not interrupted by the host or fellow panelists, which is common practice on these talk shows, and he delivered a stirring programmatic speech which, if you take it apart, was severely critical not of the generals for unprofessional management of field operations but of the country’s political leadership, going straight back to Vladimir Putin, for deeply flawed concepts on how the war should be prosecuted.

The mobilization, per Mikheev, is merely an extension or escalation of the failed policies to date, namely the attempt to conduct an artillery and infantry war with successes measured in destruction of Ukrainian military assets, instead of conducting total war, with the emphasis placed on destruction of the entire Ukrainian power generation, logistics and other infrastructure so as to demoralize the Ukrainian population and deprive its army of the wherewithal to continue fighting.

Mikheev attributed to his opponents in the Kremlin the argument that what they are doing is more humane, that Russia has no intention of leaving the broad Ukrainian public without heat or electricity in winter, or of causing unnecessary civilian deaths in its missile strikes. He insisted that the more humane way would have been to inflict massive pain on Ukraine back in March and April, so as to bring the conflict to an early conclusion. Escalation by baby steps is only prolonging the war and raising the risk of nuclear Armageddon.

Mikheev said that the loss of territory during the recent Ukrainian counteroffensives has many citizens scratching their heads. Why is Russia not using the technological superiority of its weaponry to greatest advantage? Why is it instead only increasing the numbers of its front line fighters as if this were a 20th century rather than a 21st century war?

Doubts about how the war is being conducted are causing ordinary Russians to lose confidence in their leadership and to look for hidden traitors. People are asking whether the oligarchs are influencing how the war is being fought so as to protect their interests. There is no room for private interests in what has been described as an existential conflict, says Mikheev. How is it that the truck loaded with explosives was allowed onto the bridge despite what had been described as tightest security? People are thinking that someone was paid off to let this vehicle through without inspection. Such corrosive doubts can be cut short only by a change in the way the war in being conducted.

It is hard to imagine a more damning statement than what Sergey Mikheev was allowed to present live on air on the Solovyov show. All reports about secret messages of criticism to Putin from within the Kremlin ranks that our newspapers feature pale in significance by comparison.

Another noteworthy panelist in last night’s show was the general director of Mosfilm, Karen Shakhnazarov, who, like Mikheev, is a regular visitor to the program. Shakhnazarov had two points to convey, one minor, and strictly professional from his domain, the world of entertainment, and the other major, and likely more broadly representative of thinking among Russia’s ‘creative classes.’ The minor point was to call out the absence today of a comprehensive patriotic management of the war effort. With all due respect to the mastery of foreign film directors and production companies, how can it be, he asked, that our television stations, including the private station NTV, are showing Rambo films these days? Such adulatory films of American daring-do could and should be put on hold till after this war is over.

Shakhnazarov’s major point was that Russia erred in not taking up Elon Musk’s latest proposal for ending the war. This was a missed Public Relations opportunity of great potential value in the Information War. Yes, Russia does not accept certain points in the plan, in particular, regarding holding new referendums in the four newly annexed territories. But it would have served Russia very well to say ‘yes, the plan is worth considering, and we are ready to go the extra mile in pursuit of peace’ when Zelensky unreservedly rejected the Musk plan. Said Shakhnazarov, Musk has tens of millions of followers and they could have been won over to Russia’s cause had the Kremlin given a qualified yes to the plan.

Finally, I call attention to the remarks made by a retired military intelligence officer, hero of the Russian Federation, who gave highly relevant explanations to the alleged Russian targeting of purely civilian targets like children’s playgrounds and opera houses in its missile strikes on cities across Ukraine a day ago in revenge for the bombing of the Crimea bridge. As he noted, Ukrainian authorities have claimed that the Russians fired 72 missiles that day, of which 42 were supposedly knocked out by the Ukrainian air defenses. Meanwhile the Russian authorities have said nothing about possible losses of their missiles to Ukrainian defenses and only said that all of the targets on their list were destroyed.

Let us say, this general argued, that the Ukrainian figures were inflated and that they shot down not 42 but 21 of our missiles. That would take the loss rate into typical range given that Ukraine still has a powerful anti missile defense in Kiev and elsewhere, which has been strengthened in recent weeks by more advanced systems sent in from NATO countries. “Shot down” is a deceptive term: usually this means not total destruction but the break-up of the incoming missile into fragments which contain explosives and land wherever gravity brings them down. Accordingly it is entirely possible that fragments of such Russian missiles indeed landed in civilian, residential neighborhoods with associated loss of life. Though the general did not mention it, exactly the same scenario occurred in Donetsk and other cities in the rebel provinces when they came under attack from Ukrainian Tochka-M rockets early in this war. The rockets were intercepted by Russian air defenses, but the fragments landed in city streets and caused significant loss of life as well as damage to infrastructure.

Finally, this military intelligence expert had some interesting and possibly valuable words to say about the newly appointed head of military operations in Ukraine, General Sergei Surovikin, whom he met several times in the past and for whom he has great respect. Surovikin has been given this assignment after serving as chief of the Aerospace Forces, which was in itself an unusual career move for an officer whose basic education and experience was in charge of ground forces. In this appointment, we may well see better coordination and use of the two different branches of the military, which have been criticized in Western expert circles for precisely a lack of effectiveness. As regards the coincidence between the new assignment and the dramatic ratcheting up of Russian missile strikes on Ukrainian cities a day ago, the general insisted that from one day to the next a new appointee cannot master all aspects of the ongoing complex military operations, so that Surovikin cannot be the author of these strikes.

Having some experience as an historical researcher in Russian government archives from the tsarist period, I learned one lesson that bears on today: in government offices there are always competent and highly experienced officials who draft legislation or orders that sit idly in their desk drawers but which can become government policy in a matter of hours if events outside the bureaucracy force a change. I believe that is precisely what happened with respect to Russia’s massive attack on Ukraine of late.

With this, I rest my overriding point from the foregoing summary of the 10 October Solovyov show: Russian state television is essential reference material to anyone seeking to make sense of this war and to see where it may lead.

By Big Serge, Substack, 10/5/22

With the sole possible exception of the great Sun Tzu and his “Art of War”, no military theorist has had such an enduring philosophical impact as the Prussian General Carl Philipp Gottfried von Clausewitz. A participant in the Napoleonic Wars, Clausewitz in his later years dedicated himself to the work that would become his iconic achievement – a dense tome titled simply “Vom Kriege” – On War. The book is a meditation on both military strategy and the socio-political phenomenon of war, which is heavily laced with philosophical rumination. Though On War has had an enduring and indelible impact on the study of military arts, the book itself is at times a rather difficult thing to read – a fact that stems from the great tragedy that Clausewitz was never actually able to finish it. He died in 1831 at the age of only 51 with his manuscript in an unedited disorder; and it fell upon his wife to attempt to organize and publish his papers.

Clausewitz, more than anything, is famous for his aphorisms – “Everything is very simple in war, but the simplest thing is difficult” – and his vocabulary of war, which includes terms such as “friction” and “culmination.” Among all his eminently quotable passages, however, one is perhaps the most famous: his claim that “War is a mere continuation of politics by other means.”

It is on this claim that I wish to fixate for the moment, but first, it may be worthwhile to read the entirety of Clausewitz’s passage on the subject:

“War is the mere continuation of politics by other means. We see, therefore, that War is not merely a political act, but also a real political instrument, a continuation of political commerce, a carrying out of the same by other means. All beyond this which is strictly peculiar to War relates merely to the peculiar nature of the means which it uses. That the tendencies and views of policy shall not be incompatible with these means, the Art of War in general and the Commander in each particular case may demand, and this claim is truly not a trifling one. But however powerfully this may react on political views in particular cases, still it must always be regarded as only a modification of them; for the political view is the object, War is the means, and the means must always include the object in our conception.”

On War, Volume 1, Chapter 1, Section 24

Once we cut through Clausewitz’s dense and verbose style, the claim here is relatively simple: war-making always exists in reference to some greater political goal, and it exists on the political spectrum. Politics lies at every point along the axis: war is begun in response to some political need, it is maintained and continued as an act of political will, and it ultimately hopes to achieve political aims. War cannot be separated from politics – indeed, it is the political aspect that makes it war. We may even go further and state that war in the absence of the political superstructure ceases to be war, and instead becomes raw, animalistic violence. It is the political dimension that makes war recognizably distinct from other forms of violence.

Let us contemplate Russia’s war-making in Ukraine in these terms.

Putin the Bureaucrat

It is often the case that the most consequential men in the world are poorly understood in their time – power enshrouds and distorts the great man. This was certainly the case of Stalin and Mao, and it is equally true of both Vladimir Putin and Xi Jinping. Putin in particular is viewed in the west as a Hitlerian demagogue who rules with extrajudicial terror and militarism. This could hardly be farther from the truth.

Almost every aspect of the western caricature of Putin is deeply misguided – though this recent profile by Sean McMeekin comes much closer than most. To begin with, Putin is not a demagogue – he is not a naturally charismatic man, and though he has over time greatly improved his skills as a retail politician, and he is capable of giving impactful speeches when needed, he is not someone who relishes the podium. Unlike Donald Trump, Barack Obama, or even – God forbid – Adolf Hitler, Putin is simply not a natural crowd pleaser. In Russia itself, his imagine is that of a fairly boring but level headed career political servant, rather than a charismatic populist. His enduring popularity in Russia is far more linked to his stabilization of the Russian economy and pension system than it is to pictures of him riding a horse shirtless.

Furthermore, Putin – contrary to the view that he wields unlimited extralegal authority – is rather a stickler for proceduralism. Russia’s government structure expressly empowers a very strong presidency (this was an absolute necessity in the wake of total state collapse in the early 1990’s), but within these parameters Putin is not viewed as a particularly exciting personality prone to radical or explosive decision making. Western critics may claim that there is no rule of law in Russia, but at the very least, Putin governs by law, with bureaucratic mechanisms and procedures forming the superstructure within which he acts.

This was made vividly apparent in recent days. With Ukraine advancing on multiple fronts, a fresh cycle of doom and triumph was set in motion: pro-Ukrainian figures exult in the apparent collapse of the Russian army, while many in the Russian camp bemoan leadership which they conclude must be criminally incompetent. With all of this underway on the military side, Putin has calmly ushered the annexation process through its legal mechanisms – first holding referendums, then signing treaties on entry in the Russian Federation with the four former Ukrainian oblasts, which were then sent to the State Duma for ratification, followed by the Federation Council, followed again by signature and verification by Putin. As Ukraine throws its summer accumulations into the fight, Putin appears to be mired in paperwork and procedure. The treaties were even reviewed by the Russian constitutional court, and deadlines were set to end the Ukrainian hryvnia as legal tender and replace it with the ruble.

This is a strange spectacle. Putin is plodding his way through the boring legalities of annexation, seemingly deaf to the chorus which is shouting at him that his war is on the verge of total failure. The implacable calm radiating – at least publicly – from the Kremlin seems at odds with events at the front.

So, what really is going on here? Is Putin truly so detached from events on the ground that he is unaware that his army is being defeated? Is he planning to use nuclear weapons in a fit of rage? Or could this be, as Clausewitz says, the mere continuation of politics by other means?

Expeditionary War

Of all the phantasmagorical claims that have been made about the Russo-Ukrainian War, few are as difficult to believe as the claim that Russia intended to conquer Ukraine with fewer than 200,000 men. Indeed, a central truth of the war that observers simply must come to grasps with is the fact that the Russian army has been badly outnumbered from day one, despite Russia having an enormous demographic advantage over Ukraine itself. On paper, Russia has committed an expeditionary force of less than 200,000 men, though of course that full amount has not been on the frontline in active combat lately.

The light force deployment is related to Russia’s rather unique service model, which has combined “contract soldiers” – the professional core of the army – with a reservist pool that is generated with an annual conscription wave. Russia consequentially has a two-tiered military model, with a world class professional ready force and a large pool of reserve cadres that can be dipped into, augmented with auxiliary forces like BARS (volunteers), Chechens, and LNR-DNR militia.

This two-tiered, mixed service model reflects, in some ways, the geostrategic schizophrenia that plagued post-Soviet Russia. Russia is an enormous country with potentially colossal, continent spanning security commitments, which inherited a Soviet legacy of mass. No country has ever demonstrated a capacity for wartime mobilization on a scale to match the USSR. The transition from a Soviet mobilization scheme to a smaller, leaner, professional ready force was part and parcel of Russia’s neoliberal austerity regime throughout much of the Putin years.

It is important to understand that military mobilization, as such, is also a form of political mobilization. The ready contract force required a fairly low level of political consensus and buy-in from the bulk of the Russian population. This Russian contract force can still accomplish a great deal, militarily speaking – it can destroy Ukrainian military installations, wreak havoc with artillery, bash its way into urban agglomerations in the Donbas, and destroy much of Ukraine’s indiginous war-making potential. It cannot, however, wage a multi-year continental war against an enemy which outnumbers it by at least four to one, and which is sustained with intelligence, command and control, and material which are beyond its immediate reach – especially if the rules of engagement prevent it from striking the enemy’s vital arteries.

More force deployment is needed. Russia must transcend the neoliberal austerity army. It has the material capacity to mobilize the needed forces – it has many millions in its reservist pool, enormous inventories of equipment, and indigenous production capacity undergirded by the natural resources and production potential of the Eurasian bloc that has closed ranks around it. But remember – military mobilization is also political mobilization.

The Soviet Union was able to mobilize tens of millions of young men to blunt, swamp, and eventually annihilate the German land army because it wielded two powerful political instruments. The first was the awesome and far reaching power of the Communist Party, with its ubiquitous organs. The second was the truth – German invaders had come with genocidal intent (Hitler at one point mused that Siberia could be turned into a Slav reservation for the survivors, which could be bombed periodically to remind them who was in charge).

Putin lacks a coercive organ as powerful as the Communist Party, which had both astonishing material power and a compelling ideology which promised to bring about an accelerated path to non-capitalist modernity. Indeed, no country today has a political apparatus like that splendid communist machine, save perhaps China and North Korea. So, in the absence of a direct lever to create political – and hence military – mobilization, Russia must find an alternative route to creating a political consensus to wage a higher form of war.

This has now been accomplished, courtesy of western Russophobia and Ukraine’s penchant for violence. A subtle, but profound transformation of the Russian socio-political body is underway.

Creating Consensus

Putin and those around him conceived of the Russo-Ukrainian War in existential terms from the very beginning. It is unlikely, however, that most Russians understood this. Instead, they likely viewed the war the same way Americans viewed the war in Iraq and Ukraine – as a justified military enterprise that was nevertheless merely a technocratic task for the professional military; hardly a matter of life and death for the nation. I highly doubt that any American ever believed that the fate of the nation hinged on the war in Afghanistan (Americans have not fought an existential war since 1865), and judging by the recruitment crisis plaguing the American military, it does not seem like anyone perceives a genuine foreign existential threat.

What has happened in the months since February 24 is rather remarkable. The existential war for the Russian nation has been incarnated and made real for Russian citizens. Sanctions and anti-Russian propaganda – demonizing the entire nation as “orcs” – has rallied even initially skeptical Russians behind the war, and Putin’s approval rating has soared. A core western assumption, that Russians would turn on the government, has reversed. Videos showing the torture of Russian POWs by frothing Ukrainians, of Ukrainian soldiers calling Russian mothers to mockingly tell them their sons are dead, of Russian children killed by shelling in Donetsk, have served to validate Putin’s implicit claim that Ukraine is a demon possessed state that must be exorcised with high explosives. Amidst all of this – helpfully, from the perspective of Alexander Dugin and his neophytes – American pseudo-intellectual “Blue Checks” have publicly drooled over the prospect of “decolonizing and demilitarizing” Russia, which plainly entails the dismemberment of the Russian state and the partitioning of its territory. The government of Ukraine (in now deleted tweets) publicly claimed that Russians are prone to barbarism because they are a mongrel race with Asiatic blood mixing.

Simultaneously, Putin has moved towards – and ultimately achieved – his project of formal annexation of Ukraine’s old eastern rim. This has also legally transformed the war into an existential struggle. Further Ukrainian advances in the east are now, in the eyes of the Russian state, an assault on sovereign Russian territory and an attempt to destroy the integrity of the Russian state. Recent polling shows that a supermajority of Russians support defending these new territories at any cost.

All domains now align. Putin and company conceived of this war from the beginning as an existential struggle for Russia, to eject an anti-Russian puppet state from its doorstep and defeat a hostile incursion into Russian civilizational space. Public opinion is now increasingly in agreement with this (surveys show that Russian distrust of NATO and “western values” have skyrocketed), and the legal framework post-annexation recognizes this as well. The ideological, political, and legal domains are now united in the view that Russia is fighting for its very existence in Ukraine. The unification of the technical, ideological, political, and legal dimensions was, just moments ago, described by the head of Russia’s communist party, Gennady Zyuganov:

“So, the President signed decrees on the admission of the DPR, LPR, Zaporozhye and Kherson regions into Russia. Bridges are burned . What was clear from the moral and statist points of view has now become a legal fact: on our land there is an enemy, he kills and maims the citizens of Russia. The country demands the most decisive action to protect compatriots. Time does not wait.”

A political consensus for higher mobilization and greater intensity has been achieved. Now all that remains is the implementation of this consensus in the material world of fist and boot, bullet and shell, blood and iron.

A Brief History of Military Force Generation

One of the peculiarities of European history is the truly shocking extent to which the Romans were far ahead of their time in the sphere of military mobilization. Rome conquered the world largely because it had a truly exceptional mobilization capacity, for centuries consistently generating high levels of mass military participation from the male population of Italy. Caesar brought more than 60,000 men to the Battle of Alesia when he conquered Gaul – a force generation that would not be matched for centuries in the post-Roman world.

After the fall of the Western Roman Empire, state capacity in Europe deteriorated rapidly. Royal authority in both France and Germany was curtailed as the aristocracy and urban authorities grew in power. Despite the stereotype of despotic monarchy, political power in the middle ages was highly fragmented, and taxation and mobilization were highly localized. The Roman capacity to mobilize large armies that were centrally controlled and financed was lost, and warfare became the domain of a narrow fighting class – the petty gentry, or knights.

Consequentially, medieval European armies were shockingly small. At pivotal English-French battles like Agincourt and Crecy, English armies numbered less than 10,000, and the French no more than 30,000. The world historical Battle of Hastings – which sealed the Normal conquest of Britain – pitted two armies of fewer than 10,000 men against each other. The Battle of Grunwald – in which a Polish-Lithuanian coalition defeated the Teutonic Knights – was one of the largest battles in Medieval Europe and still featured two armies that numbered at most 30,000.

European mobilization powers and state capacity were shockingly low in this era compared to other states around the world. Chinese armies routinely numbered in the low hundreds of thousands, and the Mongols, even with significantly lower bureaucratic sophistication, could field 80,000 men.

The situation began to shift radically as intensified military competition – in particular the savage 30 years’ war – forced European states to at last begin a shift back towards centralized state capacity. The model of military mobilization shifted at last from the servitor system – where a small, self-funded military class provided military service – to the fiscal military state, where armies were raised, funded, directed, and sustained through the fiscal-bureaucratic systems of centralized governments.

Through the early modern period, military service models acquired a unique admixture of conscription, professional service, and the servitor system. The aristocracy continued to provide military service in the emerging officer corps, while conscription and impressment were used to fill out the ranks. Notably, however, conscripts were inducted into very long terms of service. This reflected the political needs of monarchy in the age of absolutism. The army was not a forum for popular political participation in the regime – it was an instrument for the regime to defend itself from both foreign enemies and peasant jacqueries. Therefore, conscripts were not rotated back into society. It was necessary to turn the army into a distinct social class with some element of remoteness from the population at large – this was a professional military institution that served as an internal bulwark of the regime.

The rise of nationalistic regimes and mass politics allowed the scale of armies to increase much further. Governments in the late 19th century now had less to fear from their own populations than did the absolute monarchies of the past – this changed the nature of military service and at last returned Europe to the system that the Romans had in millennia past. Military service was now a form of mass political participation – this allowed for conscripts to be called up, trained, and rotated back into society – the reserve cadre system that characterized armies in both of the world wars.

In sum, the cycle of military mobilization systems in Europe is a mirror of the political system. Armies were very small during the era where there was little to no mass political participation with the regime. Rome fielded large armies because there was significant political buy-in and a cohesive identity in the form of Roman citizenship. This allowed Rome to generate high military participation, even in the Republican era where the Roman state was very small and bureaucratically sparse. Medieval Europe had fragmented political authority and an extremely low sense of cohesive political identity, and consequently its armies were shockingly small. Armies began to grow in size again as the sense of national identity and participation grew, and it is no coincidence that the largest war in history – the Nazi-Soviet War – was fought between two regimes that had totalizing ideologies that generated an extremely high level of political participation.

That brings us to today. In the 21st century, with its interconnectedness and crushing availability of both information and misinformation, the process of generating mass political – and hence military – participation is much more nuanced. No country wields a totalizing utopian vision, and it is inarguable that the sense of national cohesion is significantly lower now than it was one hundred years ago.

Putin, very simply, could not have conducted a large scale mobilization at the onset of the war. He possessed neither a coercive mechanism nor the manifest threat to generate mass political support. Few Russians would have believed that there was some existential threat lurking in the shadow – they needed to be shown, and the west has not disappointed. Likewise, few Russians would likely have supported the obliteration of Ukrainian infrastructure and urban utilities in the opening days of the war. But now, the only vocal criticism of Putin within Russia is on the side of further escalation. The problem with Putin, from the Russian perspective, is that he has not gone far enough. In other words – mass politics have already moved ahead of the government, making mobilization and escalation politically trivial. Above all, we must remember that Clausewitz’s maxim remains true. The military situation is merely a subset of the political situation, and military mobilization is also political mobilization – a manifestation of society’s political participation in the state.

Time and Space

Ukraine’s offensive phase continues on multiple fronts. They are pushing into northern Lugansk, and after weeks of banging their heads against a wall in Kherson, they have finally made territorial progress. Yet, just today, Putin said that it is necessary to conduct medical examinations of the children in the newly admitted oblasts and rebuild school playgrounds. What is going on? Is he totally detached from events at the front?

There are really only two ways to interpret what is happening. One is the western spin: the Russian army is defeated and depleted and is being driven from the field. Putin is deranged, his commanders are incompetent, and Russia’s only card left to play is to throw drunk, untrained conscripts into the meat grinder.

The other is the interpretation that I have advocated, that Russia is massing for a winter escalation and offensive, and is currently engaged in a calculated trade wherein they give up space in exchange for time and Ukrainian casualties. Russia continues to retreat where positions are either operationally compromised or faced with overwhelming Ukrainian numbers, but they are very careful to extract forces out of operational danger. In Lyman, where Ukraine threatened to encircle the garrison, Russia committed mobile reserves to unblock the village and secure the withdrawal of the garrison. Ukraine’s “encirclement” evaporated, and the Ukrainian interior ministry was bizarrely compelled to tweet (and then delete) video of destroyed civilian vehicles as “proof” that the Russian forces had been annihilated.

Russia will likely continue to pull back over the coming weeks, withdrawing units intact under their artillery and air umbrella, grinding down Ukrainian heavy equipment stocks and wearing away their manpower. Meanwhile, new equipment continues to congregate in Belgorod, Zaporizhia, and Crimea. My expectation remains the same: episodic Russian withdrawal until the front stabilizes roughly at the end of October, followed by an operational pause until the ground freezes, followed by escalation and a winter offensive by Russia once they have finished amassing sufficient units.

There is an eerie calm radiating from the Kremlin. Mobilization is underway – 200,000 men are currently undergoing refresher training at ranges around Russia. Trainloads of military equipment continue to flood across the Kerch bridge, but Ukraine’s offensive plods on with no Russian reinforcements to be seen at the front. The disconnect between the Kremlin’s stoicism and the deterioration of the front are striking. Perhaps Putin and the entire Russian general staff really are criminally incompetent – perhaps the Russian reserves really are nothing but a bunch of drunks. Perhaps there is no plan.

Or perhaps, Russia’s sons will answer the call of the motherland again, as they did in 1709, in 1812, and in 1941.

As the wolves once more prowl at the door, the old bear rises again to fight.

By Kit Klarenberg, The Grayzone, 10/10/22

The secret British intelligence plot to blow up Crimea’s Kerch Bridge is revealed in internal documents and correspondence obtained exclusively by The Grayzone.

The Grayzone has obtained an April 2022 presentation drawn up for senior British intelligence officers hashing out an elaborate scheme to blow up Crimea’s Kerch Bridge with the involvement of specially trained Ukrainian soldiers. Almost six months after the plan was circulated, Kerch Bridge was attacked in an October 8th suicide bombing apparently overseen by Ukraine’s SBU intelligence services.

Detailed proposals for providing “audacious” support to Kiev’s “maritime raiding operations” were drafted at the request of Chris Donnelly, a senior British Army intelligence operative and veteran high ranking NATO advisor. The wide-ranging plan’s core component was “destruction of the bridge over the Kerch Strait.” 

Documents and correspondence plotting the operation were provided to The Grayzone by an anonymous source. 

The truck bombing of the Kerch Bridge differed operationally from the plot sketched therein. Yet, Britain’s evident interest in planning such an attack underscores the deep involvement of NATO powers in the Ukraine proxy war. At almost precisely the time that London reportedly sabotaged peace talks between Kiev and Moscow in April this year, British military intelligence operatives were drawing up blueprints to destroy a major Russian bridge crossed by thousands of civilians per day.

The roadmap was produced by Hugh Ward, a British military veteran. A number of strategies for helping Ukraine “pose a threat to Russian naval forces” in the Black Sea are outlined. The overriding objectives are stated as aiming to “degrade” Russia’s ability to blockade Kiev, “erode” Moscow’s “warfighting capability”,  and isolate Russian land and maritime forces in Crimea by “denying resupply by sea and overland via Kerch bridge.”

Read the complete blueprint: Support for Maritime Raiding Operations – Proposal

Continue reading article here.

By Larry Elliott, The Guardian, 10/4/22

Ukraine’s economy will shrink at a rate eight times that of Russia this year as a result of the war triggered by Moscow’s invasion in February, the World Bank has estimated.

In its latest report on Europe and central Asia, the Washington-based institution said the Ukrainian economy would contract by 35% in 2022, compared with a 4.5% fall in Russian GDP.

Earlier estimates had suggested the Kremlin faced a bigger economic hit this year, but the World Bank said the impact of sanctions had so far been less severe than forecast.

Kyiv has been making military advances in recent weeks, and since April the Ukrainian economy has shown signs of growth. Yet the Bank said recovery would be slow and the cost of repairing the damage inflicted by the war would be enormous. It put the cost at a minimum of $349bn (£303bn) – more than one-and-a-half times the country’s prewar gross domestic product.

Ukraine was already Europe’s poorest country even before the war began in February this year, but more than seven months of conflict meant a third of its population of 44 million had been displaced and 60% were living below the national poverty line.

“Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has triggered one of the biggest human displacement crises and exacted a heavy toll on human and economic life,” said Anna Bjerde, World Bank vice-president for the Europe and Central Asia region.

“Ukraine continues to need enormous financial support as the war needlessly rages on as well as for recovery and reconstruction projects that could be quickly initiated.”

Inflation had accelerated rapidly, reaching an annual rate of just under 24% in April, with high food price inflation hurting families, particularly the poor.

The repercussions of the war were expected to persist, with the economy scarred by the destruction of productive capacity, damage to arable land, and reduced labour supply. The risk of refugees not returning was becoming more and more likely, with the war now running into its eighth month and those fleeing the conflict increasingly settled in host countries.

By contrast, the World Bank said rocketing energy prices had helped cushion the blow to Russia from sanctions.

“The sanctions imposed on Russia following its war in Ukraine are having significant adverse economic impacts, albeit less severe in the short term than first expected”, it said.

“The initial shock was mitigated by the authorities’ strong fiscal response, capital controls, monetary tightening, swift action to stem financial sector risks, as well as high foreign exchange inflows driven by the surge in global commodity prices.”

The World Bank said the freezing of half Russia’s international reserves and weaker domestic oil and gas revenues had helped make the country more vulnerable to a fall in global energy prices.

“Moreover, the sanctions have led to a dramatic drop in total imports, restricting access to new technologies and equipment, and external financing, and thereby dampening medium to long-term growth prospects,” the report added.