Sergey Karaganov, one of Vladimir Putin’s longest-serving ideologists, has finally said aloud what Russia’s generals already know: The Kremlin cannot win in 2025 the kind of victory it achieved in 1945. In his July 2025 Global Affairs essay Europe: An Unkind Parting, Karaganov declared that Russia’s 300-year “European orientation” had ended. The West, he wrote, is incurably hostile, and Russia must “return to itself,” turning eastward to Eurasia.
Two months later, Karaganov went further, conceding that “Russia will not be able to achieve a victory like those of 1815 or 1945.” He warned that the world is sliding toward a Third World War, but without the prospect of a decisive Russian triumph. Coming from a man who once urged limited nuclear strikes to “sober” the West, the change in tone is striking.
What makes this shift more remarkable is its echo in another of Putin’s loyal hardliners, former Roscosmos chief and now senator Dmitry Rogozin. Long the face of militant nationalism, Rogozin admitted in September 2025 that the front lines in Ukraine are “locked in stalemate” and any gains come at a “colossal price.” His words stop short of defeatism but also mirror Karaganov’s admission that Russia’s ambitions have met the hard reality of modern warfare.
Both men once embodied Moscow’s confidence that time and sheer mass favoured Russia. Now their rhetoric is mournful. Together they are constructing a new narrative of endurance rather than conquest, framing Russia as a besieged fortress holding out against a decadent West.
When the Kremlin’s loudest hawks begin describing limits, it signals a recalibration of expectations at the highest levels. Such admissions were once unthinkable without Kremlin sanction, suggesting even the inner circle knows that a full restoration of empire is unattainable.
Western analysts should not mistake this for weakness. Authoritarian systems often turn failure into mythology. By redefining “victory” as survival in a long hybrid war, Russia converts its limits into narrative power. The pivot from triumph to endurance frees the Kremlin to wage a drawn-out hybrid campaign against Europe without battlefield success in Ukraine. This reframing also supports regime survival and keeps blame for hardship aimed squarely at the West.
Karaganov’s retreat, paired with Rogozin’s realism, may foreshadow a strategic pivot from offensive conquest to regional spoiler. We can expect more hybrid attacks, energy leverage, and nuclear signalling – tools that impose cost without territorial breakthroughs. Karaganov has already called for “toughening” Russia’s nuclear doctrine. Admitting that a 1945-style victory is impossible does not end the conflict: it widens its arena. Moscow’s recent probes on NATO’s borders may be intended to strike fear in capitals as much as to dissuade Europe from sending more air defence to Ukraine.
For Europe, this shift presents both opportunity and peril. The opportunity lies in the breathing space created by Russia’s realism. Moscow’s recognition of its military, economic, and demographic limits gives the EU and NATO a brief window to accelerate defence investment and strengthen deterrence.
The danger is complacency. If European leaders misread these admissions as signs of collapse, they risk losing momentum on Ukraine and on building European defence. They would also miss the essence of authoritarian adaptation in which a struggling Moscow pivots to being a long-term spoiler, a North Korea on the Volga.
In the end, both men are midwives of a new Russian myth of unending victimhood and struggle. They recast Moscow’s failure in Ukraine as virtue, transforming it into a standoff reminiscent of the Cold War. Yet the more Moscow speaks of fortitude, the more it reveals its strategic exhaustion.
Recent analysis by the Institute for the Study of War underscores Russia’s shift from battlefield conquest to a more intensified hybrid campaign. Recently they reported that the FSB and SVR had launched coordinated false-flag operations, accusing NATO of plotting sabotage even as Russian drones were violating European airspace. These actions form part of what ISW calls a “Phase Zero” campaign: a psychological effort to blur accountability and prepare the ground for wider hybrid confrontation. In this way, Moscow turns its inability to win on the front lines into pressure on Europe’s nerves, waging war through confusion and fear.
Europe should treat this visible shift as actionable intelligence. When authoritarian ideologues lower their bar for success, democracies must raise theirs. Now more than ever, Europe should not only redouble its support for Ukraine but also focus on unity, endurance, and strategic clarity, the very qualities Russia claims as its last remaining strength.
