Wednesday, October 14, 2026

Nikolai Karpitsky. Tucker Carlson’s Narratives About World War II: Is Compromise with Hitler or Putin Possible?

 
Interview with Vladimir Putin to Tucker Carlson By Kremlin.ru, Źródło: Wikimedia Commons CC BY 4.0
 
False narratives about World War II are spreading today not only in Russia. One of the most prominent popularizers of an alternative view of the war has been American political commentator Tucker Carlson. What lies behind this revision of history – insufficient historical knowledge or a particular ideology? Why is revisiting the history of World War II becoming a way to justify concessions to modern-day Russia?

In September 2024, Tucker Carlson interviewed Darryl Cooper, the author of the historical podcast Martyr Made, who had declared Winston Churchill the chief villain of World War II. In October 2026, speaking with British Conservative politician Jacob Rees-Mogg, Carlson himself questioned whether Britain had been right to resist Hitler. A common logic can be discerned in these two conversations: war is portrayed as the result of an unwillingness to seek compromise, while the Nazi regime’s historical responsibility recedes into the background.

Mass Extermination – Just an Administrative Mistake?

On September 2, 2024, Carlson published his interview with Darryl Cooper. At the beginning of the conversation, he introduced his guest as the most important living popular historian in the United States. Carlson did more than simply give Cooper a platform; he presented him in advance as an authoritative researcher whose conclusions deserved to be trusted.

In Cooper’s view, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill bears primary political responsibility for the war turning into a vast catastrophe. Instead of asking why Nazi Germany launched a war of aggression, Cooper shifts the focus to why Britain refused to accept the results of German expansion. Carlson supported the general thrust of this argument, calling the traditional moral assessment of the Allies’ actions into question.

Darryl Cooper claimed that in 1941, Germany went to war against the Soviet Union without having made adequate preparations to accommodate millions of prisoners of war and civilian detainees. According to him, the Germans “went in with no plan for that” and simply sent people to camps, where millions died. In his account, the mass deaths in occupied territories are explained primarily by the German leadership’s lack of preparation. In this way, Cooper substitutes administrative failures in the implementation of Nazi policy for its ideological motives. This substitution is particularly dangerous when applied to the Holocaust.

During the interview, Tucker Carlson endorsed his guest’s argument: “I think a lot of what we hear about World War II is a lie.” He did add that he was willing to acknowledge that the Nazis were bad and that the United States was the most virtuous player in World War II. In other words, Carlson does not declare Nazi Germany innocent, nor does he claim that all Allied actions were unjustified. His position is more complex: he calls into question the very system of moral judgments that emerged after the victory over Nazism. According to his reasoning, the memory of World War II has become an instrument that allows Western countries to justify subsequent wars, including their support for Ukraine.

The Question of Whether the War Was Worth Fighting

In his discussion with Jacob Rees-Mogg on October 2, 2026, Tucker Carlson himself raised the question of whether Britain should have gone to war with Hitler in the first place. His argument centers on the price of resisting an aggressor. Carlson claimed that Hitler supposedly had no desire to go to war with Britain and that his territorial claims against Poland were driven by the consequences of World War I. In other words, although Carlson does not directly justify the war of aggression aimed at the complete destruction of Poland, he normalizes it by presenting it as an ordinary territorial conflict that allegedly escalated into a global war through Britain’s fault.

Rees-Mogg countered that refusing to resist would not have guaranteed Britain’s security. On the contrary, if Germany had brought continental Europe under its control, Britain’s position might have become even more dangerous. Carlson, however, insisted on a different criterion for evaluating the decision: if a country paid an enormous price, perhaps going to war had been a mistake. Once again, Carlson replaces the question of whether an aggressor should have been resisted with the question of whether that resistance ultimately proved worthwhile.

Rational and Irrational Evil

Essentially, Tucker Carlson advocates an ideology of compromise with evil but fails to account for the fact that evil can take different forms. Evil is present in the everyday life of every society. Corruption, arbitrary rule, violations of the law, abuse of power, and discrimination are all characteristic, to varying degrees, of different societies. Societies therefore develop mechanisms for compromise that help limit harm and resolve conflicts. However, it is important to distinguish between evil that can be rationally explained – when a person violates norms for the sake of profit, power, security, resources, or other self-interested goals – and irrational evil.

A corrupt official embezzles money because they want to enrich themselves. A politician abuses their authority because they seek to retain power. Even when such actions harm society, their motives can be understood in terms of interests and incentives. When an adversary’s motives are comprehensible in a social conflict, it may be possible to identify the limits of their interests and propose a compromise.

The situation is different when destructive actions become an end in themselves or are perceived as a necessary condition for fulfilling an ideological mission. In such cases, material gain may give way to convictions that a particular group of people must be exterminated, that a state has the right to subjugate its neighbors, or that a historical injustice must be eradicated at any cost.

Destructive actions that harm even those who carry them out may indicate a form of evil that cannot be explained solely in terms of material interests. In such cases, evil takes on an irrational character. Of course, ideology can coexist with economic interests, the struggle for power, and the pursuit of security, so it is not always possible to draw a clear line between rational and irrational evil. Nevertheless, the distinction between them becomes apparent when a person must choose between self-interested goals and ideological convictions.

Nazi Germany: When Ideology Matters More Than Self-Interest

In Nazi Germany, evil was enshrined in state ideology: racial theory, antisemitism, the idea of conquering Lebensraum (living space), and the belief that perceived enemies had to be exterminated. Yet the mass extermination of people with valuable professional skills required enormous resources. Nevertheless, the Nazi leadership regarded the implementation of this policy as its historical mission, even though, from the standpoint of self-interested rationality oriented toward material gain, it appeared irrational.

If we imagine Nazi Germany as a state acting primarily in pursuit of rationally explicable gains, we may be tempted to conclude that it could have been negotiated with by offering acceptable terms. But if ideological convictions were the decisive motive, concessions would not only have failed to halt expansion; they might also have reinforced the belief that the adversary was unwilling to resist.

Darryl Cooper explained the mass deaths as a consequence of Germany’s administrative unpreparedness for the consequences of war. In his view, after invading Poland, Hitler supposedly sought to reach an agreement with Britain and France, while Churchill contributed to the continuation of the conflict. In this interpretation, the Nazi leadership appears less as the embodiment of an ideology of extermination than as a government that made catastrophic mistakes and became trapped by its own decisions. From this perspective, World War II emerges as the result of inflexibility, miscalculations, and a failure to reach a diplomatic compromise.

Although Tucker Carlson did not claim to agree fully with everything Cooper said, he nevertheless normalizes this approach: if the evil embodied by Nazism can be explained in terms of rational interests, it becomes possible to suggest that resisting it was unnecessary or excessively costly. And if the war could have been prevented through concessions, resistance to aggression begins to look like the result of a choice by political leaders who preferred confrontation to compromise.

From Hitler to Putin

False narratives about World War II can do more than distort the past; they can also replace the criteria by which we assess the present. They turn resistance to aggression into a questionable gamble and concessions into a sign of prudence. Since 2014, many Western politicians have sought to explain Russia’s actions in terms of rational security concerns, its desire to preserve influence in the post-Soviet space, or its fears about NATO enlargement. Such explanations have been used to justify cooperation with Moscow and the search for compromise. After all, if the Russian leadership is pragmatically defending its interests, it should be possible to find a formula that satisfies some of its demands, preserves peace, and gradually integrates Russia into a system of mutual economic interdependence.

The problem is that the Russian leadership operates on the basis of the belief that Russia has a special historical mission and that Moscow has the right to determine the political future of neighboring peoples. It denies Ukraine’s agency and is prepared to continue the war despite enormous human losses, economic costs, and international isolation. In this respect, Putin’s Russia resembles Hitler’s Germany in its ideologically driven pursuit of domination, which takes precedence over rational considerations of material gain.

European political culture is largely based on the search for compromise. This is one of the greatest achievements of Western civilization, hard-won through many bloody wars. Seeking compromise is an art of diplomacy. Political wisdom lies not in eliminating all disagreements but in the ability to find solutions that resolve conflicts. However, the history of the twentieth century shows that diplomacy does not always prevent war. The 1938 Munich Agreement, which allowed Germany to annex the Sudetenland, merely paved the way for further military expansion. It is therefore essential to understand an adversary’s motives and assess the extent to which they can be explained in rational terms.

Korea and Vietnam: Why There Is No Ready-Made Formula

In wartime, there is no ready-made formula for determining which compromises are acceptable and which are not. In 1950, the United States entered the Korean War under the auspices of the United Nations after North Korea attacked South Korea. At the time, both parts of Korea were ruled by dictatorships. Subsequently, however, South Korea evolved into a democratic state governed by the rule of law, while North Korea retained its totalitarian regime. North Korea’s aggression was driven not only by material interests but also by ideological convictions. Since it proved impossible to reach an agreement with the North Korean regime that would ensure South Korea’s security, the United States was compelled to defend the South by military means. Yet this decision also involved compromises on numerous issues. To what extent could the authoritarian nature of the South Korean regime be tolerated? How could consensus within American society on participation in the war be achieved? Along what lines could a armistice with the North Korean regime be accepted?

The war ended in an armistice, which was itself a compromise. This shows that, under specific circumstances, compromise with those embodying irrational evil is indeed possible. However, this does not mean that an agreement based on cooperation for mutual benefit is possible. A similar situation later arose when the United States sought to protect South Vietnam from aggression by North Vietnam. This time, however, the war ended not in a lasting armistice but in catastrophe. Seeking compromise in such situations requires political wisdom, because there is no simple formula for determining in advance when war is necessary and when compromise is preferable.

Historical Narratives and the War in Ukraine

The false historical narratives about World War II promoted by Tucker Carlson shape the criteria used to make political decisions in the present. After all, if Hitler’s Germany had rational reasons for its military aggression and defeating it came at too high a cost, then, according to this logic, it would have been more expedient to strike a mutually beneficial deal with it. By the same logic, Western states themselves bear responsibility for the confrontation with Russia because they refuse to make concessions to Moscow in the interests of restoring peace. Tucker Carlson does not need to prove that Russian aggression is justified. It is enough for him to continually emphasize the cost of resistance, question the need to stand up to the aggressor, and portray compromise as an inherently more reasonable alternative.

In reality, Tucker Carlson merely exploits prejudices about Russia that have long been characteristic of Western leaders who continued to make concessions to Moscow even after the annexation of Crimea. They believed that rational motives lay behind the Russian leadership’s criminal actions and that an agreement with it was therefore possible. They mistakenly assumed that if a criminal regime were offered sufficient material incentives, it would abandon further military expansion. All that was needed was to propose an attractive deal. Of course, they were not so naive as to fail to recognize the evil embodied in Russian policy. However, they believed that this evil could be rationally explained.

The full-scale war has shown many of them that this evil is irrational. Evidence of this includes acts of terror that serve no military purpose, in which civilians are killed in the streets, on city buses, and in their own apartments. Moreover, this policy is not only detrimental to Russia itself but also destructive to the country. In the West, only those who believe that evil always has a rational explanation rooted in human selfishness and that it is a normal part of life because selfishness is inherent in all people continue to advocate making a deal with Russia. Tucker Carlson operates within precisely this worldview, promoting an ideology of compromise with evil. The same ideology guides the current US president, Donald Trump, who continues to pressure Ukraine, even as Russia terrorizes its civilian population, in the hope of striking a deal with Moscow.

The main danger of this ideology lies not even in its explicit justification of evil. Rather, it lies in a subtler mechanism for normalizing evil by portraying it as rational, explicable, and therefore amenable to compromise. Yet it is only a short step from an ideology that normalizes and rationalizes evil to one that advocates cooperation with irrational evil. Any agreement to cooperate with those who embody irrational evil turns all other participants in such agreements into accomplices to that evil. Consequently, those who seek to cooperate with Russia risk becoming complicit in the terror inflicted on civilians and contributing to the further escalation of Russian military aggression.

So far, neither Tucker Carlson nor Donald Trump has taken this step from normalizing rational evil to cooperating with irrational evil. Time will tell whether they take it in the future.

Thursday, September 17, 2026

Nikolai Karpitsky. Russian Imperial Consciousness Between Imperial Pacifism and Necro-Imperialism

 
Illustration: “Homeland—A Swamp,” from the series “Monument to a Special Military Operation,” 2025. Facebook page “Party of the Dead”
 
Russian imperial consciousness is a spectrum of different positions that gradually transition into one another. At the opposite poles of this spectrum are, on the one hand, necro-imperialism and, on the other, imperial pacifism. Both positions took shape as early as the Soviet period but acquired entirely new forms in the context of the Russian-Ukrainian war. In his essay, prof. Nikolai Karpitsky traces the zigzags of Russian imperial consciousness between necro-imperialism and imperial pacifism.

Imperial Consciousness in the Soviet Era

The Bolshevism that came to power in Russia was based on the ideology of class struggle. Its driving force was hatred of the enemy, who embodied evil by virtue of his very class nature. The individual was not regarded as the highest value; society was. Any human sacrifice could be justified in the name of social goals.

This attitude was connected with a cult of death that can be traced in Soviet symbolism: the emblem of the USSR in the form of a wreath reminiscent of a funerary wreath, Lenin’s mausoleum and the veneration of his mummified body, as well as the glorification of death in films and songs. Ultimately, this attitude led to total repression, much of which was irrational in nature.

However, the Communists could secure mass support only through an appealing vision of the future. A future dominated by a cult of death, in which people faced new waves of repression, could appeal to no one. After all, death essentially means the negation of the future. The Soviet authorities therefore needed an image of the future that would be attractive both within the country and beyond its borders.

For this reason, they proclaimed their ultimate goal to be the construction of an ideal society – communism – in which everything would be free of charge. Money and other attributes of the state were supposed to be abolished and, as Vladimir Lenin promised, gold would be used to build public toilets.

Thus, two opposing tendencies emerged in the Soviet Union: a practical one, associated with violence, repression, war, and the cult of death, and a utopian one, associated with ideals of progress, peace, and social justice. Since both tendencies stemmed from the same source, adherents of progress and social justice who became enthusiastic about communist ideology could easily become instruments of the USSR’s repressive machinery or terrorists in other countries.

The communist project promised the abolition of the state, but the transitional period envisioned the expansion of the Soviet Union until the last country on the planet became socialist. In other words, it was an imperial project disguised as a utopia.

In the late Soviet Union, this aggressive imperial project was increasingly promoted under the guise of the struggle for peace. After all, if the victory of communism was historically inevitable, it was enough simply to wait until all countries became socialist. On the one hand, the Soviet Union proclaimed a policy of peaceful coexistence with capitalist countries; on the other, it continued to wage wars in different parts of the world, supporting any dictatorial regimes that declared their commitment to socialism.

Soviet schoolchildren were taught a version of history that had been completely rewritten to conform to this ideological framework. According to this version of history, Russia had constantly expanded its territory by peaceful means and had never attacked anyone. Any military aggression by the Soviet Union, such as the invasion of Afghanistan, was presented as a peacekeeping operation.

Most Soviet citizens liked the pacifist rhetoric of the Soviet authorities. They wanted a stable and peaceful life in a vast country that, at the same time, everyone was supposed to fear and respect. On the one hand, they adhered to an imperial position; on the other, they did not want any wars. I propose calling this internally contradictory position “imperial pacifism.”

Many Russians inherited precisely this position. In order not to lose their support, Vladimir Putin prohibited the use of the word “war” to describe Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, officially adopting the term “special military operation.”

The contradiction between the repressive practices of the Soviet Union and its pacifist utopia generated internal tension within Soviet ideology. Mikhail Gorbachev attempted to overcome this contradiction by reforming the Soviet Union from the standpoint of imperial pacifism. To this end, he proclaimed the policy of “glasnost,” allowing criticism of the repressive and necrophilic practices of the Stalinist period while at the same time doing everything in his power to preserve the Soviet Union.

However, imperial pacifism was utopian in nature and had never previously been embodied in state practice. The attempt to implement it led to a crisis of the state and to people’s disillusionment with the communist project – in both its repressive and its pacifist forms. Ultimately, this became one of the factors that led to the collapse of the Soviet Union.

Transformation of Imperialism After the Collapse of the Soviet Union

In the mid-1990s, imperial pacifism predominated in Russian public consciousness. The First Chechen War sparked a mass anti-war movement. Yet even among opponents of the war, most opposed Chechnya’s independence. They believed, however, that war was an even worse alternative and therefore that peace had to be pursued even with a sworn enemy. Only isolated individuals openly supported the Chechen people’s right to self-determination.

During this period, a nationalist interpretation of the imperial myth began to take shape. If the ideology of the Soviet Union was based on internationalism and Russia itself was understood as one of fifteen Soviet republics, then in the mass consciousness of post-Soviet Russia it increasingly appeared as though the other fourteen republics had seceded from Russia itself. Nostalgia for the Soviet Union gradually transformed into a dream of restoring the Russian Empire. As a result, a much more aggressive nationalist understanding of imperialism emerged, and war came to be regarded as a legitimate means of returning breakaway territories to the so-called “Russian world.”

A proponent of this ideology, Vladimir Putin was one of the initiators of the Second Chechen War, which began in the autumn of 1999 and was, this time, supported by Russian society on a massive scale. Unlike Mikhail Gorbachev and the ideologues of perestroika, Putin, as a typical representative of the security services, did not understand why imperial pacifism was needed in the first place. To consolidate his own power, he skillfully exploited a series of covert operations involving the bombings of residential buildings in Buynaksk, Moscow, and Volgodonsk in September 1999. More than three hundred people were killed in these explosions, and more than a thousand others were injured.

A fifth covert operation, in Ryazan, was prevented, and those who had directly planted the explosives in the basement of a residential building were detained. It turned out that they were members of an operational group from the Moscow branch of the FSB. Most Russian residents ignored media reports about this fact and supported the new war in Chechnya, which was conducted with particular brutality toward the civilian population.

I personally witnessed how educated, cultured people who had advocated peace only recently began saying that Chechnya should be burned to the ground. The problem was not that they were unaware of the FSB’s alleged involvement in the terrorist attacks, but that they wanted the Chechens themselves to be responsible. The image of the enemy constructed around the Chechens set in motion a process in the public consciousness that displaced imperial pacifism with a more aggressive form of imperialism – necro-imperialism.

Imperial Pacifism in Ukraine After the Collapse of the Soviet Union

During the Soviet period, many people found the possibility of living in a vast country while preserving their national identity and culture appealing. The loyalty of the populations of the republics that made up the Soviet Union, including Ukraine, was largely sustained by the fact that imperial pacifism was promoted in the form of internationalism. And indeed, before Russia’s invasion, there was strong sympathy for Russia among Ukrainians. However, these sympathies did not mean either a rejection of Ukrainian identity or a desire to become part of Russia.

Modern Russia, by contrast, pursues a policy of aggressive imperialism in the form of Russian chauvinism, while Russian propaganda spreads the false narrative that a Russian identity predominates among Ukrainians and that they want to live as part of Russia. In Ukraine, this narrative appears absurd because the overwhelming majority of the population, including Russian-speaking Ukrainians, have always retained a Ukrainian identity. In Russia, however, most people consider this narrative truthful and use it to justify the war against Ukraine.

In order to create at least some basis for public support for a Russian occupation within Ukraine itself, Kremlin propagandists constructed false narratives claiming that Nazis had come to power as a result of the Maidan Revolution and were subjecting Russians to repression. In this way, they attempted to transform the remnants of Soviet-style imperial pacifism into an aggressive form. They succeeded only partially, however. The majority of residents in all regions of Ukraine, including those regions that had been the political base of pro-Russian politicians, supported resistance to Russian military aggression.

A Country Where Necro-Imperialism Has Triumphed

With Putin’s rise to power, necro-imperialism began to take shape as a state system. At the initial stage, during Russia’s economic recovery and growth, people saw their incomes rise, which corresponded to the image of the future associated with imperial pacifism. However, the contradiction between utopia and reality resulted in protests that reached their peak in 2011–2012.

The seizure of Crimea was presented as a victory achieved without military action, which once again corresponded to the assumptions of imperial pacifism: on the one hand, there was a military victory; on the other, there seemed to have been no war. This prompted mass support for the occupation of Crimea among both proponents of imperial pacifism and necro-imperialism. However, the subsequent war once again intensified this contradiction, which was resolved by the complete victory of necro-imperialism as a result of the full-scale invasion of Ukraine on February 24, 2022. Now, in Russia, any manifestation of pacifism, even in its imperial form, is treated as a criminal offense punishable by lengthy prison sentences.

Russia’s Peaceful Forces – Who Are They?

Russian necro-imperialism assumes that war has value in itself because it simplifies the world and strengthens central government. However, this necrophilic mindset is not an innate human trait, and the longer the war continues, the more strongly imperial-pacifist sentiments will manifest themselves in society.

I believe that even now, if a referendum were held, a majority of Russians would vote for peace with Ukraine. But this does not mean that they support Ukraine. It merely means that they believe it is necessary to coexist with the Ukraine that actually exists, even though most of them continue to view it with hostility.

Does this mean that there are no freedom-loving people in Russia who reject imperialism and support Ukraine? Of course not. However, there is a fundamental difference between a person independently and freely making a moral choice and determining their position in life and the opinions of particular groups of people being shaped by social circumstances. Isolated individuals cannot create a social movement on their own; support from particular social groups is also necessary. Although there are many people in Russia who support Ukraine and wish for its victory, they do not constitute a social movement. At the same time, social conditions have emerged that are strengthening imperial-pacifist sentiments among various segments of society. This is precisely why the Russian authorities are adopting prohibitive and repressive measures to prevent these sentiments from developing into a social movement.

Some Russian opposition politicians are attempting to capitalize on these imperial-pacifist sentiments. For example, on June 12–13, 2026, they held a congress in Berlin for the “Peaceful Russia” party, which represents a small group of émigrés and can hardly claim to speak on behalf of Russian society. Within Russia itself, the emergence of even such associations is currently impossible.

Alexei Navalny made the greatest contribution to shaping imperial pacifism as a political position. His July 20, 2017, debate with Igor Girkin, a representative of aggressive imperialism and a terrorist who led the seizure of Sloviansk in 2014, is particularly illustrative in this regard. Subsequently, both participants in the discussion were subjected to repression by the Russian authorities, which indirectly attests to the sincerity of their convictions, while Alexei Navalny was even killed in prison.

Alexei Navalny did not support Ukraine. However, he tried to convince Igor Girkin that Russia’s war against Ukraine was detrimental to Russia itself and that it would therefore be better to live peacefully with the Ukraine that actually exists. For Igor Girkin, these arguments were of no significance because, from the perspective of necro-imperialism, peaceful life in Russia has no value in itself: Russia’s value lies in its strength, which it demonstrates through war.

When a viewer asked Navalny whether he considered Igor Girkin a war criminal, he replied: “…as for war criminals, that is a precise legal term. So, if he killed non-combatants, if he committed certain acts that are explicitly listed in legal documents, then any person, including Igor Ivanovich, would be subject to judicial proceedings… That is a matter for the courts, not Alexei Navalny.” In other words, Alexei Navalny did not consider the terrorist seizure of an entire city itself to be a war crime, and he also stated that it was not his responsibility to assess the very fact of the torture and killing of Sloviansk residents, of which he could not have been unaware.

Alexei Navalny and Igor Strelkov (Igor Girkin) during the debate on July 20, 2017. Screenshot from the “Navalny LIVE” livestream. Source: The official debate page on Navalny’s website

The point is that both Alexei Navalny and Igor Girkin viewed the events in Donbas from the standpoint of Russia’s interests, although they understood those interests differently. Alexei Navalny’s faith in his political ideal – the “Beautiful Russia of the Future” – was undoubtedly sincere, since he was prepared to sacrifice his freedom for it. In its utopian character, this ideal resembles the vision of a future communist society, for which sincere communists were likewise prepared to make sacrifices.

But perhaps I am being unfair in calling the pacifism of Russian opposition politicians imperial? Let us consider, for example, the position of one of Russia’s most consistent pacifists, Lev Shlosberg, who also sacrificed his freedom for his convictions. On August 17, 2026, he was sentenced in Russia to 11 years in prison.

From a pacifist standpoint, Lev Shlosberg condemned not only Russia’s aggression but also Ukraine’s efforts to extend retaliatory military operations onto Russian territory. “There is no such thing as self-defense in the form of conducting military operations on the territory of another country… Self-defense is always limited to the borders of one’s own country,” he argued. “…I am against the killing of Ukrainian soldiers. I am against the killing of Ukrainian civilians. I am against the killing of Russian soldiers and against the killing of Russian civilians.” In his view, military action should simply be stopped, after which the status of the occupied territories could be discussed for decades. By deciding to stay in Russia – and thereby ending up in prison – Lev Shlosberg has proven that he believes what he says. However, it seems to me that he is deceiving himself. After all, it is obvious that as long as a total war of annihilation is raging, it is not national borders that matter, but only the front lines.

Let us imagine German pacifist anti-fascists during the Second World War who condemned extending military operations onto German territory and proposed simply stopping them, followed by decades of discussions about the status of the occupied countries. I would still call such pacifism imperial because, in essence, it would be defending the territorial integrity of the Third Reich.

Imperial pacifism is utopian: its victory can only be temporary, after which a militaristic revanche will follow. Therefore, I believe that lasting peace can be achieved not through imperial pacifism but through the deconstruction of Russia as an empire.

Wednesday, September 2, 2026

Nikolai Karpitsky. Why Are the Russians Trying to Destroy the Monument to the Soviet Soldiers Who Liberated Sloviansk from the Nazi Occupiers?

 
The monument to the Soviet soldiers who liberated Sloviansk after Russian strikes. Photo: Vadym Liakh/Facebook

In August, the intensity of the bombardment of Sloviansk (Donetsk region) increased sharply. As a result, on August 21, 2026, Sloviansk was officially designated as a territory of active hostilities. The Russians are attacking residential buildings and shops and attempting to destroy the Sloviansk Thermal Power Plant and the city’s entire civilian infrastructure. Yet, among other targets, on August 28, 2026, they struck, for some reason, a monument commemorating the liberation of Sloviansk from the Nazi occupiers. Why are the Russians trying to destroy the monument to the Soviet soldiers? Prof. Nikolai Karpitsky attempts to answer this question from the scene.

The Russians Deliberately Attacked the Monument to the Soviet Soldiers

On August 28, toward evening, when I returned from a walk through the city center, the Russians began striking the city again – right in the area where I had just been walking. Vadym Liakh, head of the Sloviansk City Military Administration, wrote on his Facebook page: “Today, August 28, Russia destroyed the monument to the soldiers of the Second World War who liberated Sloviansk from the Nazis back in the distant 1940s. The monument was one of the city’s landmarks. Celebrations marking City Day were always held nearby in early September. Russia is destroying everything it can reach. There are no sacred places. Under attack are children, churches, monuments, cultural heritage, and residential buildings. Take care of yourselves. We are holding on. We are together!”

Why did the Russians strike the monument? After all, Putin has practically transformed the cult of victory over Nazi Germany into a new civil religion, which he uses to legitimize his own rule. An attack on a monument to the soldiers who liberated the city undermines this cult and evokes associations between Putin’s regime and Hitler’s.

In the comments beneath my YouTube video, in which I mention the attack, I asked a Russian viewer what he thought about it. “I can assume that this was done by Nazis belonging to the NATO PMC, which you call the Armed Forces of Ukraine,” – he replied. His answer is so absurd that I will not attempt to discuss it. However, I think this is exactly how tens of millions of Russians would answer us – only without the mitigating phrase “I can assume.” But perhaps the monument was hit accidentally?

Two days later after the attack, on August 30, I went to the scene of the incident. The monument stands in the very center of Shovkovychniy Park. There are very few people here; dense vegetation surrounds it on all sides, and there is not a single object within more than a hundred meters that could reasonably be considered a target for an attack. I walked around the monument. It had not been destroyed, but it had been damaged in two places: there was an impact on the flag in the upper section and another one below, at the point where the soldier’s left boot meets the pedestal. Apparently, there were two drones. Two strikes in such an empty location rule out the possibility of an accidental hit.

Perhaps the drone operators did not know that the monument was specifically dedicated to the soldiers who liberated the city from Hitler’s occupiers? Judging by the pattern of damage, the drones approached from the northwest, and from that direction it is indeed possible not to recognize the Soviet soldier depicted on the monument. But if so, this means that the Russians simply do not care what they bomb, because all it takes is a glance at the Google map to find out whom the monument commemorates.

Google map of Shovkovychniy Park, showing the monument to the Soviet soldiers.

Version One. The Russians simply do not care what they bomb

Perhaps none of the drone operators even bothered to find out what kind of monument it was because they simply do not care what exactly they destroy. Indeed, the Russians strike Sloviansk indiscriminately and without any apparent purpose. For example, just one minute before I left my home to see the damage to the monument with my own eyes, I heard two powerful explosions. When I went outside, I saw smoke rising from the direction of Bylbasivka, a settlement adjoining Sloviansk to the west. A little later, Vadym Liakh wrote on his Facebook page: “On Sunday, August 30, at around 11:00 a.m., the enemy carried out an airstrike using two FAB-250 bombs against the settlement of Bylbasivka. Two private houses were destroyed. About two dozen more houses were damaged. Two people were wounded. Two others were killed. One of those killed was a 13-year-old child.”

Results of the August 30, 2026, attack on the settlement of Bylbasivka. Photo: Vadym Liakh/Facebook

What possible purpose could there be in bombing rural houses, especially since the Russian offensive is being conducted from the opposite direction? Obviously, everything is being bombed indiscriminately simply because it is located on Ukrainian territory. Perhaps this is why the monument was hit as well. But perhaps the Russians did have a more substantial reason?
 
Version Two. The reason for the attack on the monument is ideological

The veterans of the Second World War are now around one hundred years old, and very few of them remain. In the Russian collective consciousness, the memory of that war is being displaced by an ideological narrative in which the Soviet Union supposedly fought the war single-handedly and defeated Nazi Germany, while other countries later tried to take credit for this victory. The Second World War either disappears from the collective consciousness altogether or is perceived as something resembling Germany’s preparatory maneuvers before its attack on the Soviet Union. Russia is presented as the rightful heir to that victory and therefore as having the right to threaten other countries with repeating it – but this time against them. The historical memory of the Second World War, expressed in the slogan “Never again!”, has been transformed in the Russian consciousness into a cult of so-called pobedobesie (literally 'victory madness' or 'victory frenzy'), under the slogan “We can do it again!”

Putin can acknowledge Ukraine’s participation in the victory over Nazi Germany – which, within this ideological narrative, is attributed exclusively to Russia – only if Ukraine recognizes itself as part of Russia. However, the Ukrainian people’s struggle against the Russian invaders calls the entire Putinist cult of victory into question. That is why Putin seeks to establish Russia’s exclusive succession to that victory, excluding Ukraine from the ranks of its heirs. This interpretation implies that an independent Ukraine has no right to monuments dedicated to the struggle against the Nazi occupiers. And if such monuments do exist, then, as instruments of propaganda that undermine Russia’s monopoly over the legacy of victory, they become legitimate military targets.

I admit that this version sounds utterly irrational even to me. But then again, the attack on a monument to soldiers who liberated the city is equally irrational. In any case, I cannot give preference to either version, but I have no other explanations.

Saturday, August 22, 2026

Nikolai Karpitsky. Russian Imperial Consciousness and the Loss of an Adequate Perception of Probability

 

Why do Russians believe in absurd things? What seems unlikely in the world-picture of a Westerner appears inevitable in the world-picture of Russians. The mistake made by Western analysts is that they look for a rational motivation behind the behavior of the Russian authorities. Russians, however, assess the significance of events differently and assign different probabilities to them, and this directly affects their imperial consciousness.

Why Did the West Misjudge the Military Threat from Russia?

To avoid getting lost in the flow of information, a person must establish priorities: what deserves primary attention and what should be ignored. This requires a system for assessing the probability of various events – a probability matrix. For example, before Russia attacked Ukraine, Western leaders considered it extremely unlikely that Putin would start a war. This belief was based on a world-picture in which people are assumed to be guided primarily by their own interests, whereas a major war was not in Putin’s self-interest. After all, he already had everything one could wish for: absolute power, stability within the country, international influence, and the opportunity to amass enormous wealth through the sale of natural resources. The war would put all of this at risk.

A world-picture is based on ideas or assumptions that affect the perceived probability of events. At the heart of Putin’s world-picture, as well as that of most Russians, is the belief that the West is inherently hostile to Russia and that the most important thing is to prevail in this civilizational confrontation with it. The advantage will go to whoever starts the war first, while economic interests are of secondary importance. The mistake made by Western leaders is that they arbitrarily project their own assumptions onto Russia.

However, what is impossible within one world-picture may be perceived as inevitable within another. In other words, the structure of a world-picture is itself a probability matrix according to which events are perceived and their meanings identified.

The Imperial Consciousness of Russians Is Based on a Different Probability Matrix

For ordinary Russians, the empire is Russia itself, and Russia is associated with a living space in which they feel secure. This has been the case for virtually the entire course of Russian history. Security within this vast living space can be guaranteed only by the central government; if it weakens or collapses, chaos will ensue: rampant crime, an influx of migrants, and civil war. This outlook is diametrically opposed to the one underlying European democracies, where people defend their autonomy, rights, and self-government because it is precise autonomy and self-determination that provide a sense of security.

Russian imperial consciousness shapes a world-picture based on the following assumptions:

    Russia is a distinct civilization that includes Ukraine and Belarus;
    Russia has never attacked anyone;
    Russia has always won all its wars;
    Russia expanded peacefully, with all peoples voluntarily becoming part of it;
    the West is inherently hostile to Russia, and war with it is inevitable.

Why do Russians accept such absurd beliefs, including educated intellectuals who have access to information and know how to verify and critically analyze it? Moreover, they may believe any piece of propagandistic disinformation as long as it is consistent with the Russian imperial world-picture. For example, people in the Soviet Union were convinced that Soviet troops had entered Afghanistan at the request of the Afghan government in order to forestall the Americans, who allegedly wanted to enter the country without an invitation.

Well, suppose they might not have known that Soviet troops killed Afghanistan’s leader, Hafizullah Amin, by storming his palace. Yet propaganda can be so absurd that no additional knowledge is required to recognize its absurdity. For example, Soviet people believed that Finland had attacked the Soviet Union in 1939. One only needs to look at a map to understand that this is about as implausible as the claim that our planet is ruled by reptilians. Yet human thinking is structured in such a way that even an outstanding scholar, a recognized expert in their field, may simultaneously believe in conspiracy theories or reptilians, or support an aggressive war while placing complete trust in the propaganda used to justify it. If the Soviet Union had succeeded in occupying Finland at that time, those same people would have been convinced that Finland had voluntarily joined the Soviet Union and would have regarded any talk of its independence as hostile activity.

The World-picture of a Paranoid Personality

The word “paranoid” is used not only in reference to a mental disorder but also to describe a particular type of personality that, from the standpoint of society, may be considered perfectly healthy. A paranoid personality is characterized by such qualities as heightened suspiciousness, a tendency to hold grudges, heightened sensitivity to threats, a search for hidden motives, a tendency to systematize and provide logical justifications based on arbitrary premises, a logically consistent but one-sided interpretation of events, a lack of empathy, an inability to understand another point of view, and an inability to critically examine one’s own beliefs. All these qualities result from the breakdown of the probability matrix in paranoid consciousness. A person ceases to distinguish between the most and least probable explanations of what is happening. An unlikely explanation becomes certain to them if it corresponds to their suspicions.

The breakdown of the probability matrix can lead to paranoid delusions, in which a person extracts hidden messages from completely random coincidences. For example, they may see a candy wrapper lying on the ground near their home bearing the image of a “Little Rooster – Golden Comb” and begin to suspect that someone deliberately planted it there as a hint that they intend to “send the red rooster” – that is, set the house on fire. Such an explanation is internally logical, but it rests on assumptions so highly improbable that a mentally healthy person would simply disregard them.

According to the same logic, there are all kinds of conspiracy theories and a widespread belief among Russians that the West has always sought to destroy Russia. Does this mean that all of them are paranoid? Of course not. Most are perfectly normal, healthy people. It is necessary to distinguish between those who construct a paranoid world-picture and the majority of people who agree to live within it, even though they themselves are quite ordinary rather than paranoid personalities. They should also be distinguished from indifferent people who merely pay lip service to propaganda but take no real interest in it or engage with it. Among those who construct a paranoid world-picture, there are both genuinely paranoid personalities and cynical ideologues who promote propaganda merely for the sake of their careers.

Why Do Healthy People Believe Absurd Fabrications?

The most common motivation for believing fabrications is the desire for social adaptation. If a person wants to conform to the expectations of the majority, they will, by default, accept everything that everyone else believes. It is therefore easier for them to deceive themselves than to argue with or come into conflict with those around them. Alongside this, two other dominant motivations for self-deception can be identified: fear and hope associated with a particular vision of the future.

Fear may be caused by insecurity, by the fear of losing one’s sense of security, familiar way of life, job, social status, or self-respect. It may also be connected with a perceived threat to one’s identity, culture, or hopes for the future.

Hope, by contrast, is connected with a vision of the future. Any information that calls this vision into question causes anxiety and other negative feelings, while anything that reinforces hope generates enthusiasm. A person begins to trust not the sources that are most reliable, but those that reduce anxiety and confirm their expectations. As a result, they gradually surround themselves with like-minded people who are on the same emotional wavelength. This is how an information bubble is formed, within which only information consistent with an already established world-picture is perceived.

The Mechanism of Becoming Enmeshed in a Paranoid World-picture

Any fabrication can be perceived as unquestionable reality if it fits into a person’s world-picture. Most Russians live within a world-picture characteristic of a paranoid personality and therefore believe that Russia did not attack Ukraine but is merely defending itself, while the West has allegedly installed a Nazi regime in Ukraine and is using Ukraine as a means of destroying Russia.

An ordinary person does not become trapped in a paranoid world-picture immediately. First, they must enter a common social and communicative environment with paranoid personalities. At this stage, they are still capable of recognizing that the fabrications everyone accepts as obvious truths contradict common sense. However, the seed of doubt has already been planted, and they unconsciously begin to adjust their assessment of the probability of events, treating the improbable as possible and the possible as necessary. Gradually, the probability matrix through which they perceive events begins to change.

Other motives contribute to this process: material gain, fear, the desire to keep one’s job, reach retirement safely, and avoid conflicts. In present-day Russia, this is compounded by the fear of losing one’s freedom, since an accurate assessment of reality is treated as a crime, and many people have received lengthy prison sentences for expressing such views. The desire to suppress feelings of guilt over Russia’s crimes in Ukraine may lead people to try even harder to convince themselves that it was Ukraine that started the war.

After the collapse of the communist system, a new transformation of imperial consciousness began under the influence of two factors: the desire to simplify the world and the loss of a vision of the future. With Putin’s rise to power, a new form of imperialism in Russia – necro-imperialism – became the basis of state policy, and with the beginning of the war against Ukraine, it became entrenched in Russian mass consciousness.

Mythological Consciousness and the Vision of the Future

In archaic societies, mythological consciousness structured both life and the perception of the world. Myth is a non-rational way of making sense of reality, through which everything is endowed with new mythological meaning, allowing people to overcome the fear of the unknown and come to terms with the horrors of the world. Suffering is unbearable when it is meaningless. If it becomes comprehensible within a mythological world-picture, it can be endured. However, myth offered no vision of the future, which is why archaic societies could remain in a static state for centuries without developing.

Modern society is structured differently. Today, the fear of suffering and uncertainty about the future are overcome not through myth but through a vision of the future. People hope that life can be changed, and this hope becomes a source of activity, contributing to the rapid development of modern Western civilization.

In contemporary Ukraine, various visions of the future coexist, engaging in political and societal competition. Which of these models will become dominant largely depends on the younger generation, as it is young people who are most forward-looking. In Russia, however, instead of a vision for the future, a mythologization of the past is offered, which substitutes actual history and thus encourages individuals to reconcile with a tragic reality.

But how can one come to terms with war, suffering, death, and violence? There is only one way: by imbuing them with new mythological meaning. When death, suffering, and violence perpetrated by the authorities receive sacred justification, necro-imperialism emerges.

In reality, the Russian authorities attempted to present a reconstruction of the past as a vision of the future – one in which Russia is a great military power constantly expanding its borders. During the occupation of Crimea, many Russians were galvanized by this image, leading to unprecedented support for the regime. However, as the war dragged on, this vision faded and is now sustained only by projecting mythological notions of history onto it.

Consequently, individuals are left with a choice: either accept this mythology – in which death acquires intrinsic value, making the killing of people in a neighboring country seem justified under the belief that this is simply how the world works, with war and death being natural and self-justifying – or reject it. Yet rejecting it shatters one’s entire world-picture, dissolving any vision of the future and, with it, the capacity to overcome fear of the present. It is precisely in this psychological trap, in my view, that Russian mass consciousness finds itself today.

Necro-Imperialism and the Simplification of the World-picture

Russian necro-imperialism is oriented toward the archaic, and this is connected with the desire to return to the simplest possible world-picture. The most primitive manifestation of the fear of the complexity of the world is the destructive instinct characteristic of lumpenized personalities (chavs/gopniks). People like this can be found in all spheres of society. They do not seek to create anything new or preserve what already exists. Their basic impulse is to destroy everything that seems incomprehensible or alien. Why? So that the world will become simpler. All the complexity of assigning probabilities to events is reduced to a binary scheme: yes/no, with all intermediate possibilities excluded from the probability matrix.

This impulse toward simplification is directly connected with the suppression of empathy. Gradually, the circle of people toward whom a person is capable of feeling compassion becomes narrower and narrower; everyone else is perceived as an abstraction. At that point, it is no longer difficult to accept ideological doctrines that justify their destruction. This attitude becomes an element of state ideology and permeates every sphere of Russian society. Essentially, Putin’s political style is the style of a gopnik who sees everyone who differs from him as an enemy.

If a person becomes an enemy simply by virtue of their existence, then the simplest solution would be to ensure that they no longer exist at all. And when death is perceived as a universal way of simplifying the world, a necrophilic instinct is awakened. The simplest way to simplify the world is through war. According to this logic, not only the deaths of enemies in war but also the deaths of one’s own compatriots are perceived as a simplification of the world, which helps explain the indifference of many Russians to unjustified casualties in the war against Ukraine. Thus, over the years of war, this necrophilic attitude has come to dominate Russian mass consciousness.

It is difficult to say what will happen next. However, the extreme simplification of any social system inevitably leads to a point where, sooner or later, it ceases to sustain itself and begins to collapse under its own weight. In any case, I do not believe that a social system based on necrophilia can remain viable for an extended period of time.
 

Nikolai Karpitsky. Valerii Zaluzhnyi, Oleksandr Syrskyi, and Mykhailo Drapatyi: Professionalism or Military Talent?

Source: PostPravda.info 11.08.2026.
URL: https://postpravda.info/en/stories/freedom-of-speech-en/zaluzhnyi-syrskyi-and-mykhailo-drapatyi/

Mykhailo Drapaty – the new Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces of Ukraine. Photo: АрміяINFORM

Mykhailo Drapatyi is the third Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of Ukraine since the beginning of the full-scale war. Russia enjoys military and economic superiority over Ukraine, and confronting such an adversary requires Ukraine’s Commander-in-Chief to possess not only professionalism but also genuine military talent. It was thanks to a talented military decision that the Armed Forces of Ukraine carried out their successful counteroffensive in the autumn of 2022, but in the years that followed, they lost the initiative. Ukraine now faces the challenge of reversing the course of the war during the transition to a new technological era, one that demands of the Commander-in-Chief not only experience and professionalism but also talent. Will Mykhailo Drapatyi be able to meet this challenge?

Not Every Professional Is a Talented Military Commander

When I studied history at school, I believed that the genius of a military commander lay in the ability to devise a maneuver capable of defeating a vastly superior enemy, as Hannibal did at the Battle of Cannae or Alexander the Great at the Battle of Gaugamela. Napoleon’s memoirs showed me that every seemingly unexpected military decision rests on a meticulous analysis of countless factors. A mistake in even one of them can turn what appears to be an almost certain victory into defeat. The genius of a commander lies in combining unconventional thinking and a fresh strategic vision with rigorous calculation and the careful analysis of a wide range of factors.

Since it is impossible to take every factor into account, mistakes are inevitable even for the most outstanding military commanders. This is precisely why professionalism is so important: it enables a commander to recognize and correct mistakes in time. The faster the response to mistakes, the higher the level of professionalism. Military talent, however, goes beyond correcting errors – it also consists in anticipating them. This requires the ability to recognize new circumstances and adapt to them, even when they have no precedent in previous military experience.

Typical Mistakes of the Soviet Military School

The operational plan for Russia’s invasion of Ukraine on 24 February 2022 was developed by the General Staff of the Russian Federation under the leadership of Valerii Gerasimov. The plan was professionally prepared in accordance with the traditions of the Soviet military school and, under certain circumstances, might have succeeded. However, Gerasimov failed to foresee new factors that lay outside his previous military experience, which ultimately led to the plan’s failure. Subsequently, he demonstrated an ability to adapt to the changing conditions of the war, but not the ability to abandon the fundamental assumptions of the Soviet military school, according to which success depends on numerical superiority, highly centralized command, prolonged frontal offensives, holding positions at any cost, etc. All of this characterizes Valerii Gerasimov as a competent professional military commander, but not as one possessing exceptional military talent in the broader sense. His approach remains firmly rooted in the traditions of the old Soviet military school.

The Soviet Army achieved success during the Second World War by launching rapid offensives with all available forces before the enemy had time to consolidate its positions. This often resulted in decisive victories, but at times it also led to catastrophic defeats. A striking example is the Battle of Rzhev (5 January 1942 – 31 March 1943), also known as the “Rzhev Meat Grinder,” during which the Soviet Army, under the command of Georgy Zhukov, lost hundreds of thousands of soldiers in futile attempts to storm well-fortified German positions.

This approach of ruthlessly expending manpower in suicidal assaults was inherited by the Russian Army, which has achieved military successes in Ukraine at the cost of enormous casualties. Numerical superiority has enabled the Russian military to treat its soldiers as expendable resources. Russian commanders understood that they would not be punished for heavy losses, whereas success on the battlefield would be rewarded. The Ukrainian command, by contrast, could not employ such tactics, both for moral reasons and because of its more limited human resources. Nevertheless, the Ukrainian Army also inherited many traditions from the Soviet military, and there may also be precedents in it for a similar attitude toward the lives of soldiers.

The Ukrainian Counteroffensive of 2022: A Demonstration of Exceptional Military Talent

According to the principles of the Soviet military school, an attacking force should possess at least a three-to-one numerical advantage at the point of breakthrough. During the autumn 2022 counteroffensive, planned under the leadership of the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of Ukraine, Valerii Zaluzhnyi, Ukrainian forces attacked an enemy that actually outnumbered them – a highly unusual departure from conventional Soviet doctrine. Moreover, the Ukrainian leadership openly announced preparations for an offensive in the Kherson region, which at first glance contradicted the basic military principle of concealing the direction of the main attack. Yet this very announcement diverted the attention of the Russian command and enabled Ukrainian forces to launch their decisive offensive in an unexpected location – the Kharkiv region. The offensive began on 6 September. On 8 September, the first town, Balakliia, was liberated, triggering the collapse of the Russian front in the area. On 10 September, the largest cities in the occupied part of Kharkiv Oblast – Izium and Kupiansk – were liberated, allowing Ukrainian forces to continue their advance.

Valerii Zaluzhnyi. Photo: Official Facebook page of the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of Ukraine.

 Knowing the outcome today, this decision may appear obvious. At the time, however, it involved enormous risk, as the success of the operation depended on a multitude of unpredictable factors that had to be anticipated. Any overlooked circumstance could have caused the offensive in the Kharkiv region to fail, which in turn would likely have undermined the offensive on the Kherson axis as well. Yet it is impossible to know in advance which particular factor will prove decisive. This is precisely why even the greatest military commanders occasionally make mistakes. Valerii Zaluzhnyi was required not only to recognize the opportunity for an unconventional military solution and possess the determination to implement it, but also to analyze a vast array of interrelated factors. In accomplishing this task, he demonstrated exceptional military talent.

The Offensive on Lyman: Professional Judgment or a Mistake?

The Kharkiv counteroffensive was directed operationally by Oleksandr Syrskyi. Overall, the operation was conducted professionally. However, a commander’s level of professionalism is measured not by the absence of mistakes but by the ability to identify them in time and adjust one’s actions accordingly. Oleksandr Syrskyi is a professional commander of the old military school, one characterized by a particular pattern of recurring errors. His operational concept was to disrupt the Russian force’s command-and-control and logistical systems as quickly as possible rather than to destroy each of its individual units.

After the liberation of Izium, the Ukrainian command faced two possible approaches to capturing Lyman. The first called or a direct assault on Liman from the direction of the Seversky Donets River — that is, from the south and west. The advantage of this option was that the assault could begin immediately, preserving the rapid momentum of the offensive. The second option was to bypass Lyman from the northeast and create the threat of encirclement. This course of action would have virtually guaranteed success but at the cost of slowing the advance, thereby giving Russian forces time to establish themselves on new defensive lines.

Oleksandr Syrskyi. Photo: Official Facebook page of the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of Ukraine.

A Soviet commander trained in the tradition of Georgy Zhukov would likely have attempted to seize Lyman through a frontal assault at any cost in order to preserve the momentum of the offensive, much as Zhukov himself did during the Battle of Rzhev. Within the Soviet military tradition, in which success is judged primarily by the outcome than by the losses incurred, such an approach is not always regarded as a mistake. This helps explain why, during the initial stages of the war, Russian commanders repeatedly launched frontal assaults on Ukrainian cities with little regard for casualties.

At that moment, Oleksandr Syrskyi could not yet know how stubbornly Russian forces would defend Lyman, although he was fully aware that the city was heavily fortified. The problem is that the decisive factors determining the success or failure of a military operation become obvious mainly in retrospect. Before an operation begins, they are concealed among countless other circumstances whose significance cannot always be assessed accurately in advance. For this reason, military art consists not only in the ability to make bold decisions but also in the willingness to abandon them timely when the course of events demonstrates that the original plan must be revised.

Following the liberation of Izium, Ukrainian forces launched an offensive against Lyman from across the Siverskyi Donets River, attacking from the west, south, and southeast of the city. This phase of the operation lasted approximately from 12 to 22 September. After the loss of Izium, the Russian command had enough time to reinforce the Lyman sector with additional troops. Unlike other parts of the front, this area was not thrown into chaos by the rapid Ukrainian advance, and Russian forces conducted their defense in an organized manner. The offensive was further complicated by the terrain: extensive forests and a limited road network favored the defenders. Although Ukrainian forces succeeded in liberating several villages in the area, the offensive from across the Siverskyi Donets River failed to capture Lyman.

Assessing the situation, the Ukrainian command abandoned further attempts at a frontal breakthrough and shifted its main effort to the north and northeast. This enabled Ukrainian forces to cut the Russian force’s lines of communication, place Lyman under operational encirclement on 30 September, and completely liberate the city on 1 October.

This raises the question of whether the frontal offensive against Lyman from across the Siverskyi Donets River was a sound professional military decision intended to pin down Russian forces, or whether it was, in fact, a mistake. Likewise, was the subsequent offensive from the northeast, which resulted in the operational encirclement of Lyman, merely a response to the failure of the original plan, or was it instead a planned continuation of that strategy? I have been unable to find definitive answers to these questions in open sources. The opinions of various authors largely depend on subjective interpretation. I believe historians will continue to debate this issue for years to come, yet historians themselves are not immune to subjective judgments. For example, some historians argue that even the disastrous Battle of Rzhev had positive strategic value because it tied down substantial Wehrmacht forces.

The Opinion of an Eyewitness

To gain additional insight, I spoke with an eyewitness to those events – retired officer and volunteer Oleksandr Palchenko from Kramatorsk, who at the time was delivering humanitarian aid and communicating personally with soldiers on the front line. He told me: “I cannot speak about the situation around Lyman as a whole, but I know the situation near Yampil very well because I was there myself. There was a bridge in Torske over the Zherebets River carrying the road to Kreminna. Instead of bypassing Yampil from the east along the old railway line from the direction of Ozerne, reaching the village of Torske, and cutting off the entire Russian force in Lyman, they began a frontal assault on Yampil, and the whole operation dragged on for ten days. The enemy managed to evacuate from Lyman and withdrew toward Kreminna.”

Yampil is a settlement southeast of Lyman. Had it been captured quickly, Ukrainian forces would have gained access to Lyman from the south. The experience of the Second World War suggests that Soviet commanders consistently favored the option promising the quickest immediate result than the one that was strategically more effective, and this preference often led to costly mistakes. Oleksandr Palchenko believes that it was not even necessary to wait for the northern offensive, which ultimately liberated Lyman. In his view, it would have been sufficient to advance from the south, bypass Yampil, and seize the bridge over the Zherebets River at Torske, thereby cutting off the Russian lines of retreat and trapping the entire Russian force in an operational encirclement. According to his assessment, such a success would have enabled Ukrainian forces to advance much farther east and liberate several additional towns.

Eyewitness Oleksandr Palchenko points out the site of the fighting near Sloviansk during the 2014 Russian invasion of Donbas to PostPravda.Info contributors Yuliia Fil and Jędrzej Morawiecki. Photo: Nikolai Karpitsky

Oleksandr Palchenko’s testimony leads me to conclude that the subsequent Ukrainian offensive from the north was a response to the failure of the original plan rather than its intended continuation. A professional military commander is capable of recognizing in time that an original operational concept requires adjustment, whereas a truly talented commander is able to foresee potential mistakes before they occur. Since overall operational responsibility for the campaign rested with Oleksandr Syrskyi, I can acknowledge him as a professional military commander of the old Soviet school. However, I cannot describe him as a commander with military talent.

For its part, the Russian command, in its determination to turn Lyman into a stronghold from which to stabilize its collapsing front, committed another error typical of the Soviet military school – it chose to hold the city at any cost. As a result, on 30 September, Lyman found itself under operational encirclement, and during the night Russian forces were forced to break out along a road that was under Ukrainian fire control. On 1 October, Ukrainian forces entered and liberated the city. It should also be acknowledged that commanders within the Ukrainian Armed Forces who had been trained in the traditions of the Soviet military school occasionally made the same mistake, leading to unnecessary casualties.

Mykhailo Drapatyi: A Representative of a New Generation of Ukrainian Military Leadership

On 22 July 2026, Mykhailo Drapatyi was appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of Ukraine. He represents a new generation of Ukrainian military leaders, and the types of mistakes characteristic of commanders shaped by the Soviet military tradition are generally absent from his record. Unlike many staff generals, Drapatyi developed as a commander through direct leadership of troops in combat, beginning in 2014. His appointment was welcomed enthusiastically by Ukrainian society, where many associate him with a break from the Soviet command culture and with hopes of improving the situation on the battlefield.

Mykhailo Drapatyi’s military talent can be assessed by examining the organization of the defense of the Pokrovsk sector. Throughout 2024, Russian forces steadily advanced toward Pokrovsk, and it remained uncertain whether their offensive could be halted. At that stage of the war, both armies were only beginning to master the large-scale use of drones, while Russia continued to enjoy a substantial advantage in artillery and manpower. A rapid fall of Pokrovsk would have opened the way for further Russian offensives on several axes and created the risk of a broader collapse of the front. For Ukraine, it was vital to gain time until the widespread deployment of drones transformed the nature of the battlefield and significantly reduced the importance of numerical superiority in artillery and manpower.

Mykhailo Drapatyi in 2022. Photo: ArmyINFORM

Toward the end of 2024, after Mykhailo Drapatyi was appointed commander of the operational grouping responsible for this sector, the situation around Pokrovsk gradually began to change. The Russian offensive did not cease, but its pace slowed noticeably, and in several sectors Ukrainian units were able to launch localized counterattacks. There are strong grounds for associating this shift with Drapatyi’s leadership, particularly the transition from a predominantly linear defense to an active, maneuver-oriented defense. The objective of this approach is not to hold every kilometer of territory at any cost, but rather to inflict the maximum possible attrition on the attacking enemy.

Ukrainian units in Donbas often sought to hold their positions until the very last moment, a practice that resulted in unnecessary personnel losses. For example, when Oleksandr Syrskyi ordered the withdrawal from Avdiivka during the night of 17 February 2024, some Ukrainian servicemen became trapped in the city and were taken prisoner. Under Mykhailo Drapatyi, by contrast, active defense has more frequently relied on the timely withdrawal from disadvantageous positions, followed by short counterattacks to recapture lost strongpoints. This approach denied the enemy the opportunity to consolidate its newly captured positions and exploit its gains.

Whereas unmanned systems units in many brigades had previously operated with considerable autonomy, after Mykhailo Drapatyi assumed command of the Pokrovsk sector they were increasingly employed as components of an integrated reconnaissance and fire-strike system. As a result, Russian assault groups more frequently suffered substantial losses before even reaching Ukrainian positions. At the same time, the number of FPV drone teams increased, the use of remote mining expanded, and coordination among unmanned systems units, artillery, mechanized formations, and air assault units improved.

A commander’s talent is demonstrated not only through spectacular victories and unconventional operational decisions. The greater part of a commander’s work consists of the everyday, often unnoticed, effort to enhance combat effectiveness and improve the command-and-control system. One of Mykhailo Drapatyi’s important organizational decisions was to abandon the rigid assignment of reserve forces to specific sectors of the front. Instead, reserves came to be employed more extensively as a mobile instrument for rapidly sealing breakthroughs, conducting localized counterattacks, and reinforcing the most threatened sectors. This increased the resilience of the defense and reduced the effectiveness of the Russian tactic of employing small assault groups.

Journalist Peter Sauer wrote in The Guardian about Mykhailo Drapatyi: “He took up drone warfare early, and pushed authority down to junior officers and expected them to answer for their own decisions.” Although I have not encountered documentary evidence showing that this decentralized command system was formally institutionalized, there is abundant eyewitness testimony indicating that this approach was widely practiced.

Following his appointment as Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of Ukraine, Mykhailo Drapatyi faces several challenges that require a high degree of professionalism: stabilizing the front, integrating unmanned systems units into a unified military structure, and optimizing the employment of reserve forces. Above all, however, he must introduce modern principles of command that will enable the Armed Forces to move beyond the outdated Soviet command culture and advance to a fundamentally new level. Accomplishing this task requires more than experience and professional competence – it also demands genuine military talent. Mykhailo Drapatyi has already demonstrated his abilities as a gifted commander at the operational and tactical levels. Whether he can also establish himself as a military strategist capable of planning and directing large-scale offensive operations remains a question that only time can answer.
 

Tuesday, August 4, 2026

Nikolai Karpitsky. Technology Has Changed Warfare. Will Western Leaders Draw the Right Conclusions from Valerii Zaluzhnyi’s Analysis?

 

On July 8, 2026, another article by Valerii Zaluzhnyi was published. He is one of the most rational analysts of modern warfare. The general demonstrated his strategic talent in the autumn of 2022, when he planned and executed a successful Ukrainian counteroffensive that remains one of the most remarkable military operations of the 21st century. The central thesis of the article is that advances in military technology require a fundamental reassessment of conventional ideas about war, including the very concept of military victory. NATO no longer meets the challenges of modern warfare, as it is an alliance designed for a world that no longer exists. Are Western leaders, who bear responsibility for the fate of their nations, prepared to draw the necessary conclusions and rethink their strategic vision of war?

Can Modern Warfare Be Prepared for in Peacetime?

Four years ago, one could say without any doubt that NATO possessed clear military superiority. However, the war has changed its character. Are the NATO countries – which have indeed done a great deal in recent years to strengthen their defense capabilities – ready for this challenge?

The Russian army at the time of its invasion of Ukraine in 2022 was considered the second most powerful in the world. However, if that 2022-version of the Russian army had faced the modern Ukrainian army, it would be completely destroyed in a very short time. This is because military technology has advanced dramatically over the past four and a half years. The longer countries remain at war, the more experience they accumulate and the more they develop new technologies and methods of warfare. Over the course of the conflict, the armed forces of both countries have reached a new level that remains beyond the capabilities of militaries without firsthand experience of modern warfare – even highly advanced forces such as those of NATO countries.

Many people are now talking about a turning point in the war. However, I agree with the author of the article: what we are witnessing is not a turning point at all, but a natural evolution in the character of warfare driven by new technologies. In the summer of 2024, the Russian army advanced rapidly toward Pokrovsk. Had it managed to maintain that momentum and quickly capture the city, the road to Pavlohrad would have been open across the flat steppe. In that scenario, the Russian army would have had a real opportunity to split the front in two and trigger its collapse. Ukraine was facing a critical shortage of soldiers, and only a technological revolution could have salvaged the situation. And that is exactly what happened. Soldiers on the front lines were increasingly replaced by drones and robotic systems, partially offsetting the manpower shortage. As a result, the threat of a collapse of the front largely disappeared. As General Zaluzhnyi argues, neither Russia nor Ukraine is currently capable of achieving victory on the battlefield.

Valerii Zaluzhnyi’s View of the Modern Battlefield

The author of the article argues that the development of modern technologies has made the accomplishment of tactical objectives on the ground almost impossible. The gray zone along the line of contact has become a kill zone, where drones destroy any moving target. The problem is no longer how to hold a particular position, but how to reach it in the first place, or how to conduct troop rotations and evacuate the wounded. Two years ago, the greatest nightmare for soldiers was finding themselves in operational encirclement, with all lines of communication under enemy fire control. Today, virtually all troops holding positions on the front line are in a situation resembling operational encirclement. Under these conditions, achieving even limited tactical objectives comes at the cost of enormous losses that are disproportionate to the results achieved. However, Russia can afford such losses, whereas Ukraine cannot. For the Russian command, soldiers are treated as cheap expendable resources that can be continuously sent into the kill zone until individual Ukrainian positions are overwhelmed by successive waves of Russian assault troops. This is how Russia’s slow, grinding offensive proceeds – an approach that fully suits Putin.

At the same time, Ukraine has managed not only to disrupt frontline logistics – which has already contributed to a fuel and energy crisis in Crimea – but also to inflict significant damage on the Russian economy, contributing to gasoline shortages. However, Valerii Zaluzhnyi believes that Ukraine’s technological advantage is temporary. Russia will soon begin employing the same technologies and methods of warfare. Since Russia and Ukraine possess roughly comparable capabilities for developing military technologies, every effective solution created by one side will eventually be adopted by the other. It is reasonable to expect that in the near future, frontline cities on both sides of the front will be isolated in much the same way as Crimea. Later, each side will place the entire territory of the opposing state under drone control. As a result, the territories of both Ukraine and Russia could become one continuous battlefield.

Are European Countries Prepared for This Type of War?

The development of combat drones has reached a new level, and Russia was unprepared for it: Ukrainian strikes on oil refineries caused gasoline shortages and fueled public discontent. However, at the beginning of the full-scale invasion, Ukraine itself was not prepared for systematic attacks on its energy infrastructure. Oil depots burned, fuel storage facilities were destroyed, and logistics were disrupted. Over time, every country at war adapts to the enemy’s most painful strikes – and this is only natural. Equally natural is the fact that countries not at war cannot adapt to this new type of warfare.

Many Europeans still hold the outdated view that, in the event of further Russian aggression, the combat zone would be limited to NATO’s eastern flank – Poland and the Baltic states – while the rest of Europe would remain deep in the rear. However, in the near future, the autonomy and large-scale deployment of unmanned systems will increase to such an extent that the very concept of a “deep rear” will lose all meaning. In the event of a major conflict, targets across Europe – from Portugal to Iceland – could come under threat. Moreover, Europe’s infrastructure is, in many respects, more vulnerable than Ukraine’s.

Over the years of war, Ukraine has learned to disperse critical infrastructure, create redundant capacity, and rapidly restore damaged facilities. There is no such experience in European countries. On the contrary, a significant share of their energy, transport, and industrial infrastructure is highly concentrated, which, under conditions of the mass employment of long-range drones, could make it a relatively easy target. Although Russia does not yet possess all the necessary capabilities to exert such pressure on Europe, at the current pace of technological development it will gain this capability in the foreseeable future. At that point, the main priority will no longer be holding the front line, but preserving the state’s ability to maintain the functioning of its economy, critical infrastructure, and system of governance under constant precision strikes.

Is Victory over Russia Possible?

It is impossible for Ukraine to defeat Russia on its own. As Valerii Zaluzhnyi argues, the war of attrition is now being waged far from the front line. The objective is no longer primarily to defeat the enemy on the battlefield, but to destroy logistical routes and critical infrastructure. This dramatically increases the threat to the civilian population, yet so far it has not brought the war any closer to an end. As Zaluzhnyi writes: “Talking about achieving political goals, winning the war through tactical actions on the battlefield, or even through effective strikes against logistics and critical infrastructure – clearly goes beyond the bounds of common sense.”

Western countries have ruled out direct participation in the war and, until recently, have helped Ukraine only to defend itself, not to win. Within the prevailing paradigm of Western public consciousness, peace is regarded as the normal state of affairs, while war is viewed as a temporary and exceptional event. Consequently, many believe that it will be entirely possible to reach a peace agreement with the Russian regime if the war becomes sufficiently hopeless and costly for it. This misconception is doomed to fail.

Within the prevailing paradigm of Russian public consciousness, by contrast, war is regarded as the normal state of affairs. The Russian authorities are largely insensitive to military losses and are prepared to continue the war regardless of the economic damage. Russia cannot coexist peacefully with Europe for long because the very structure of governing such a vast territory relies not on the rule of law, but on force – which sooner or later leads to renewed military expansion. Russia has now entered a phase in which it can no longer halt its aggression, and even in the event of a temporary truce, it will continue waging a hybrid war.

A reassessment of the war in Western public consciousness is a necessary precondition for victory over Russia. The new type of warfare also requires a new understanding of what victory means. Military success should no longer be measured by the amount of territory captured or liberated, but by the extent to which the enemy’s system of state governance is disrupted. The war will not end when the Russian authorities recognize the futility of continuing it, but when the Russian state loses its capacity to govern effectively – and this is precisely what Western leaders fear.

Is this achievable? In reality, Russia has significant structural vulnerabilities. All of Siberia is connected to the rest of Russia by a single railway line. If this vital link were severed at any point, neither cargo nor troops could be transported. Will regional elites take advantage of such a situation? Anything is possible if internal contradictions within Russia intensify – between business and the state, between regional bureaucracies and the central government, and between public expectations and reality. Deepening these contradictions is also an integral part of the struggle against Russia.

Ukraine is doing only its part of this effort, but that alone is not enough. Therefore, without the involvement of other European countries – at least in the form of hybrid warfare – this objective cannot be achieved. However, the NATO alliance is unlikely to be an effective instrument, as it was created for different challenges in a different era. As Valerii Zaluzhnyi aptly observed, NATO is an alliance of the old world that no longer exists. Europe must therefore find new forms of military cooperation. But for that to happen, it is first necessary to convince Western societies, which, unfortunately, still fail to recognize that Russia has long been waging not only a conventional war against Ukraine, but also a hybrid war against Europe as a whole.