Coin Press - Why Russia can’t end war

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Why Russia can’t end war




Nearly four years into Moscow’s full‑scale invasion of Ukraine, there is no sign that the Kremlin is preparing to withdraw its troops or relinquish occupied territories. The war has devastated Ukrainian infrastructure and caused horrific human rights violations, yet the Russian government shows little appetite for ending the conflict. This refusal is rooted in ideology, domestic politics, military calculations, economic factors and public opinion. Understanding why Russia cannot end the war requires examining each of these dimensions.

Ideological and historical motivations
At its core, the conflict is driven by a belief that Ukraine belongs in Russia’s sphere of influence. The Kremlin demands that the West respect a kind of “Monroe doctrine” for Russia and stop bringing neighbouring states into the Western alliance. Preventing Ukraine from joining NATO and reasserting dominance over the former Soviet space are central goals. Russian leaders portray the war as an existential struggle against Western encirclement and a continuation of Russia’s fight for great‑power status. This ideological framing means that a negotiated end that leaves Ukraine free to choose its alliances is viewed as defeat. The war thus fulfils a narrative of historical justice and national revival, making withdrawal politically unpalatable.

Regime survival and domestic politics
The invasion has become a pillar of the Russian political system. Moscow’s leadership invests significant resources in the military‑industrial complex and dedicates roughly two‑fifths of its federal budget to defence and security. Reversing course could call into question the enormous human and economic costs already incurred—nearly a million Russian casualties—and undermine the regime’s legitimacy. Analysts note that President Vladimir Putin uses the war to consolidate patronage networks and justify increasing authoritarian control. Domestic opposition is suppressed, and state media portrays the conflict as necessary for Russia’s security. In this environment, there is little public pressure to end the war; volunteer recruitment continues thanks to high bonuses, replenishing losses, and those who favour peace often support a cease‑fire only if Moscow retains its territorial gains.

Ending the war would also create a dilemma. A cease‑fire that left Russia occupying vast areas of Ukraine would require Moscow to maintain a huge army of conscripts and volunteers, consuming resources and risking domestic discontent. Demobilising this army could trigger unemployment and social unrest. For the Kremlin, continued fighting is therefore less risky than an abrupt peace that could threaten its grip on power.

Military stalemate and strategic calculations
Despite substantial casualties and equipment losses, Russian forces continue offensive operations because Moscow believes time favours its strategy. Experts estimate Russia loses around 100–150 troops per square kilometre, yet the leadership expects to outlast Ukraine and the West. A cease‑fire that leaves Ukraine free to integrate with NATO is unacceptable to the Kremlin. Conversely, Ukraine refuses to renounce NATO membership or surrender occupied territories. This stalemate means neither side will compromise until the costs become unbearably high.

Russia’s war machine has adapted to attritional fighting. Moscow has scaled up drone production and directed its industrial base toward a war economy, offsetting heavy losses in conventional arms. Analysts warn that each year of offensive operations costs Russia 8–10 % of its GDP and hundreds of thousands of casualties. Yet the regime calculates that these losses are sustainable if they help achieve strategic objectives. Until Ukraine’s armed forces and its foreign backers impose unbearable military costs, Moscow has little incentive to cease hostilities.

War economy and financial resilience
The Russian economy has proven more durable under sanctions than many expected. Years of tight fiscal policy allowed Moscow to accumulate large foreign exchange reserves and build a “Fortress Russia” economy. By early 2022, Russia held over $600 billion in reserves and kept public debt below one‑fifth of GDP. Current account surpluses and high energy revenues enabled the government to continue funding the war. War spending has stimulated industrial output and driven nominal GDP growth, while the departure of international firms has reduced competition, allowing domestic companies to gain market share.

However, this resilience masks growing imbalances. Defence spending has added about $100 billion per year to the budget, and the combined economic losses from sanctions and war are estimated at trillions of US dollars. Economists note that real GDP growth is roughly a tenth smaller than it would have been without the war. The war economy has created labour shortages; up to two million Russians are abroad and hundreds of thousands have been killed or wounded. Industrial capacity is nearing its limits, inflation remains high, and Russia’s central bank has raised interest rates sharply. Analysts warn that this stagflationary environment could erode living standards and strain public finances. The state has been forced to draw down its National Wealth Fund and raise taxes to cover growing deficits. Yet the economic costs have not prompted a policy change; propaganda and repression continue to dampen discontent.

Public sentiment and the social contract
Russian society has largely adapted to wartime conditions. While surveys indicate that many Russians are weary of the conflict, most support peace only if it secures Moscow’s territorial gains. As long as the Kremlin presents the war as protecting Russian speakers and defending the nation against Western aggression, domestic support remains sufficient. Humanitarian gestures such as prisoner exchanges or grain exports can boost support for talks, but there is no broad movement demanding withdrawal. The combination of propaganda, control of the media and modest improvements in wages for some sectors has kept dissatisfaction at bay. Without a significant shift in public opinion, there is little internal pressure on leaders to end the war.

International dynamics and peace prospects
External actors have limited leverage over Russia’s decision‑making. Western sanctions have slowed economic growth and restricted access to technology, but they have not forced Moscow to change course. Alternative supply chains through China, Iran and North Korea provide military inputs. Diplomatic efforts, including U.S.–Russia talks and European mediation, have yet to produce progress. Commentators note that Russia views negotiations as a means to impose its terms; absent recognition of its sphere of influence, it prefers to continue the war. Meanwhile, Western political fatigue and competing global crises reduce the likelihood of sustained pressure on Russia. Unless Ukraine and its partners can decisively shift the military balance or undermine the economic foundations of the war, the Kremlin is unlikely to agree to a settlement.

Conclusion
Russia’s inability to end the war in Ukraine stems from a combination of ideological ambitions, regime survival, military calculations, economic adaptation and public acquiescence. The conflict serves the Kremlin’s strategic goals of preventing Ukraine’s Western integration and reasserting Russian dominance.
It sustains the domestic political order and justifies expanding authoritarian control. Despite immense losses and economic strain, Moscow calculates that continuing the war is less risky than accepting a negotiated peace that would leave its goals unmet. Until these underlying drivers change—through decisive military setbacks, deeper economic crises or a shift in public sentiment—Russia’s war in Ukraine is likely to endure.



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Long live Ukraine - Хай живе Україна - Да здравствует Украина

Es lebe die Ukraine - Да здравствует Украина - Long live Ukraine - Хай живе Україна - Nech žije Ukrajina - Länge leve Ukraina - תחי אוקראינה - Lang leve Oekraïne - Да живее Украйна - Elagu Ukraina - Kauan eläköön Ukraina - Vive l'Ukraine - Ζήτω η Ουκρανία - 乌克兰万岁 - Viva Ucrania - Ať žije Ukrajina - Çok yaşa Ukrayna - Viva a Ucrânia - Trăiască Ucraina - ウクライナ万歳 - Tegyvuoja Ukraina - Lai dzīvo Ukraina - Viva l'Ucraina - Hidup Ukraina - تحيا أوكرانيا - Vivat Ucraina - ขอให้ยูเครนจงเจริญ - Ucraina muôn năm - ژوندی دی وی اوکراین - Yashasin Ukraina - Озак яшә Украина - Živjela Ukrajina - 우크라이나 만세 - Mabuhay ang Ukraine - Lenge leve Ukraina - Nyob ntev Ukraine - Да живее Украина - გაუმარჯოს უკრაინას - Hidup Ukraine - Vivu Ukrainio - Længe leve Ukraine - Živjela Ukrajina - Жыве Украіна - Yaşasın Ukrayna - Lengi lifi Úkraína - Lank lewe die Oekraïne

Stargate project, Trump and the AI war...

In a dramatic return to the global political stage, former President Donald J. Trump, as the current 47th President of the United States of America, has unveiled his latest initiative, the so-called ‘Stargate Project,’ in a bid to cement the United States’ dominance in artificial intelligence and outpace China’s meteoric rise in the field. The newly announced programme, cloaked in patriotic rhetoric and ambitious targets, is already stirring intense debate over the future of technological competition between the world’s two largest economies.According to preliminary statements from Trump’s team, the Stargate Project will consolidate the efforts of leading American tech conglomerates, defence contractors, and research universities under a centralised framework. The former president, who has long championed American exceptionalism, claims this approach will provide the United States with a decisive advantage, enabling rapid breakthroughs in cutting-edge AI applications ranging from military strategy to commercial innovation.“America must remain the global leader in technology—no ifs, no buts,” Trump declared at a recent press conference. “China has been trying to surpass us in AI, but with this new project, we will make sure the future remains ours.”Details regarding funding and governance remain scarce, but early indications suggest the initiative will rely heavily on public-private partnerships, tax incentives for research and development, and collaboration with high-profile venture capital firms. Skeptics, however, warn that the endeavour could fan the flames of an increasingly militarised AI race, raising ethical concerns about surveillance, automation of warfare, and data privacy. Critics also question whether the initiative can deliver on its lofty promises, especially in the face of existing economic and geopolitical pressures.Yet for its supporters, the Stargate Project serves as a rallying cry for renewed American leadership and an antidote to worries over China’s technological ascendancy. Proponents argue that accelerating AI research is paramount if the United States wishes to preserve not just military supremacy, but also the economic and cultural influence that has typified its global role for decades.Whether this bold project will succeed—or if it will devolve into a symbolic gesture—remains to be seen. What is certain, however, is that the Stargate Project has already reignited debate about how best to safeguard America’s strategic future and maintain the balance of power in the fast-evolving arena of artificial intelligence.

Iran and the holy War risk

For now, Iran does not appear to be launching a formal holy war. But the question is no longer rhetorical. After the bombings that turned a long shadow conflict into an open regional war, religious language has moved from symbolic background noise toward the center of state messaging. The more important issue is not whether Tehran will suddenly summon the Muslim world into a single, borderless struggle. It is whether the Islamic Republic will fuse military retaliation, political succession, proxy activation and sacred rhetoric into a broader campaign that functions like a holy war without ever formally declaring one.The current crisis is already historic. Since the joint U.S.-Israeli attack of February 28, which killed Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei and struck Iranian state and military targets, the conflict has spread across Israel, Lebanon, the Gulf and the energy corridors that underpin the global economy. Public death tolls inside Iran alone have climbed into the four figures. Even though international nuclear inspectors said early in the campaign that they had no indication several key nuclear installations had been hit or that radiation had spread beyond normal levels, later stages of the war clearly broadened toward oil storage, airports, command sites and urban infrastructure. This is no longer a contained deterrence exchange. It is a live contest over regime survival, regional order and strategic endurance.That is precisely why the phrase “holy war” must be handled with care. In January, influential voices inside Iran had already warned that any attack on the Supreme Leader would amount to a declaration of war against the wider Islamic world and could require a jihad decree. That language mattered then, and it matters even more now because the red line was crossed. Tehran can plausibly argue to its own hard-line base that the highest religious and political authority in the Islamic Republic was not merely challenged but assassinated. In ideological terms, that transforms retaliation from a policy choice into a sacred obligation. In political terms, it gives hard-liners a ready-made framework for widening the war.Yet rhetoric is not the same as doctrine, and doctrine is not the same as operational behavior. Iran’s response so far looks less like an uncontrolled call to universal religious uprising than a grim, state-directed campaign of calibrated punishment. Tehran has struck back with missiles, drones, maritime pressure and pressure on regional hosts of U.S. military power. It has also tried to impose costs on the world economy by turning the Gulf and the Strait of Hormuz into instruments of leverage. This is not the behavior of a leadership abandoning strategy for blind zeal. It is the behavior of a regime trying to survive by making the war too costly, too wide and too economically dangerous for its enemies to sustain indefinitely.That distinction matters. A genuine, formal holy war would imply a sweeping call for open-ended religious mobilization across borders, one that subordinates ordinary state interests to an all-consuming theological struggle. Iran has not done that in any clear, universal sense. It has instead behaved as a revolutionary state that uses sacred language to reinforce legitimacy, discipline supporters and justify retaliation. That model predates the current crisis. The Islamic Republic has always blended theology, nationalism, martyrdom culture, anti-Western resistance and hard security logic. The bombings have intensified that blend, but they have not erased the regime’s instinct for calculation.The strongest evidence against an immediate full holy-war scenario is inside Iran itself. The system’s first imperative has not been global mobilization; it has been continuity. Even after decapitation strikes, the state moved to preserve command structures, delegate powers downward and push the Assembly of Experts toward selecting a successor. By March 8, that succession process had reportedly advanced to the point where a decision had been reached, even if the name had not yet been publicly revealed. That is a survival reflex. Regimes preparing for limitless religious war do not usually prioritize constitutional succession, elite cohesion and internal control. Regimes fighting for their lives do.Iran’s regional behavior also shows tension between ideological fury and strategic restraint. President Masoud Pezeshkian’s apology to Gulf neighbors was extraordinary, not because it ended the war, but because it exposed the conflict inside Tehran’s own response. On one side sits the logic of escalation: punish every state that hosts U.S. forces, widen the crisis, raise oil prices, frighten shipping markets and prove that the bombardment of Iran cannot remain geographically contained. On the other side sits the logic of isolation avoidance: do not drive every Arab state irreversibly into the opposing camp, do not convert every neighbor into an active launchpad for anti-Iran operations, and do not make regime survival impossible by fighting the entire region at once.This internal contradiction is one reason the phrase “holy war” can mislead. What is unfolding is more dangerous in practical terms and more limited in formal terms. Iran may never issue a clean, universal call for a civilizational war against all enemies of Islam, yet it can still encourage clerical sanction, mobilize militias, inspire cross-border attacks, bless cyber retaliation, empower covert cells and unleash proxy violence under a sacred frame. That would be a hybrid escalation: not a single global summons, but a diffuse religious legitimization of a long, dirty regional war. For civilians, ports, airports, desalination plants, shipping lanes and energy markets, the difference may feel almost academic.The role of Iran’s allied armed networks reinforces that point. Hezbollah has entered the conflict, but not from a position of unchallenged strength. Its intervention has deepened political strain in Lebanon and highlighted how even Iran’s most loyal partners are balancing solidarity against self-preservation. Other aligned groups face similar pressures. The so-called axis can still hurt Israel, U.S. assets and regional infrastructure, but it is not a frictionless machine awaiting one theological command to move in perfect unity. The more Tehran leans on proxies, the more it reveals that its preferred method remains layered coercion, not a single dramatic declaration of holy war.There is also a sectarian and geopolitical reality that limits the holy-war model. The Muslim world is not a single mobilizable bloc waiting for instructions from Tehran. Iran is a Shiite theocratic state with revolutionary ambitions, but its appeal across Sunni-majority states is uneven at best and sharply contested at worst. Gulf monarchies, already targeted by Iranian missiles and drones, are not natural participants in an Iranian-led sacred struggle. Many of them fear Tehran at least as much as they oppose the bombing campaign against it. That means Iran’s religious messaging may galvanize sympathizers, militants and ideological fellow travelers, but it is unlikely to unify the wider Islamic world behind one war banner.Still, dismissing the danger would be a grave mistake. The holy-war language matters because words can widen the menu of violence. Once a conflict is framed as sacred defense rather than national retaliation alone, thresholds can drop. Assassinations, sabotage, maritime attacks, strikes on civilian-linked infrastructure and violence by semi-deniable actors all become easier to justify. A state under bombardment, mourning its supreme leader and fighting for institutional survival may decide that conventional retaliation is not enough. If Tehran concludes that it cannot win symmetrically, it may authorize a looser, more ideological pattern of warfare stretching from the Gulf to the Mediterranean and beyond.The economic front is equally important. Iran understands that energy fear can be weaponized. Even limited disruption in the Strait of Hormuz sends shockwaves through insurance, shipping, aviation and inflation expectations worldwide. That leverage is politically valuable because it turns a military confrontation into a global pressure campaign. A formal holy war would demand maximal ideological mobilization. A survival war, by contrast, rewards selective disruption, ambiguity and controlled chaos. Tehran’s actions so far fit the second model more closely than the first.This is why the most serious answer to the headline question is not a simple yes or no. Iran is unlikely to launch a classic holy war in the simplistic sense of a formal, total religious call to arms that instantly unites the Muslim world under its banner. But it is already moving toward something more contemporary and, in some ways, more destabilizing: a war of survival wrapped in sacred legitimacy, regional coercion and asymmetric retaliation. The bombings have not merely invited revenge. They have strengthened the argument of those in Tehran who believe compromise invites death and that only resistance sanctified by faith can preserve the system.So the real risk is not that Iran suddenly abandons strategy for theology. The real risk is that strategy and theology fuse more tightly than before. If that fusion hardens, the war will not remain a sequence of missile exchanges and air raids. It will become a broader contest over succession, legitimacy, energy, maritime freedom, proxy warfare and the right to define resistance as a religious duty. In that environment, the phrase “holy war” may remain officially ambiguous, but its practical effects could become visible across the entire region.