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.

Europe’s arms money maze

Europe’s rearmament has acquired an uncomfortable companion: uncertainty about what the money actually buys. In Germany, an argument over defence-related borrowing has raised questions about whether exceptional debt is producing genuinely additional expenditure. In Estonia, unreliable inventory records and disputed ammunition contracts have brought ministerial accountability into the foreground. These are different problems, but they meet at the same point: a larger budget is not a reliable measure of a stronger defence.The contention that nobody knows what is happening to Europe’s weapons money goes too far. Budgets are published, procurement bodies operate and auditors are identifying failures. Nor do these cases establish that funds have disappeared into Russian hands or that the Kremlin engineered the difficulties. The more defensible conclusion is also more useful: Europe cannot judge rearmament by the volume of money announced. It must establish what has been purchased, accepted and made ready for use.That distinction matters strategically. An adversary need not steal the money to benefit from delays, unusable equipment or a loss of confidence in the governments spending it.What the €800 billion actually meansThe scale of the spending is substantial. Combined defence expenditure across the European Union reached €418 billion in 2025, with €454 billion estimated for 2026. Those annual totals should not be confused with the much larger, multi-year headline attached to the EU’s rearmament financing plan. The widely cited €800 billion is potential financing capacity, not a single fund already transferred to arms manufacturers. Its main components are approximately €650 billion in possible additional national expenditure enabled by fiscal flexibility over four years, and €150 billion in loans through the Security Action for Europe instrument, known as SAFE. The loans must be repaid; the additional national spending depends on governments choosing to use the available room.These distinctions are indispensable to any honest assessment. Permission to borrow is not an order placed with a factory. An order is not a completed delivery. Equipment delivered to a warehouse is not necessarily equipment that troops can operate, maintain and replenish. Treating all these stages as interchangeable allows governments to claim progress before the military benefit exists.It also creates a temptation to add together figures that describe different periods or overlapping flows of money. A credible account of rearmament should distinguish financing arrangements from annual expenditure, and both from verified outputs. Otherwise, the public is left comparing impressive totals whose practical meaning is unclear.Germany’s argument over additional spendingOn 10 September, the Ifo Institute challenged the use of Germany’s defence-related borrowing exemption. It calculated an €11 billion gap between additional borrowing and the year-on-year increase in the relevant expenditure. Ifo’s argument was that 38.5 per cent of the additional debt had not produced additional defence and security spending, instead freeing room for other purposes in the ordinary budget. The Finance Ministry rejected the comparison as legally and methodologically flawed. The exemption concerns qualifying expenditure above one per cent of gross domestic product, rather than an increase over the previous year. Ifo, for its part, said its analysis concerned additional spending, not constitutionality.This is not evidence that €11 billion was stolen. It is a dispute over the relationship between an exceptional borrowing mechanism and the political expectation attached to it. The difference is important: an arrangement can comply with its legal design while delivering less additional expenditure than citizens understand the announcement to promise.The practical question is whether new borrowing expands defence capacity or changes the way existing commitments are financed. Those outcomes can coexist within the same budget. Refinancing an established obligation may be lawful and fiscally useful, but it should not be presented as though an equivalent amount of new military capability has been purchased. Germany’s dispute therefore points to a straightforward transparency test. Governments should identify the expenditure that would have occurred anyway, the genuinely additional commitments and the delivery milestones attached to them. Without that comparison, the argument risks becoming a contest between accounting definitions while the central question—what the armed forces actually gain—remains unanswered.Estonia’s warning from the accountsIn Estonia, the problems are more immediate. Defence Minister Hanno Pevkur announced on 2 September that he would step down, accepting political responsibility for failures exposed in defence administration and procurement. His announcement did not amount to an admission of personal corruption.The National Audit Office issued a qualified opinion concerning defence inventories valued at approximately €1.2 billion because their quantities, composition and valuation could not be established reliably. It also questioned an unexplained retrospective adjustment of €99.7 million to the previous year’s inventory figures. That does not mean €1.2 billion of weapons has vanished. An unreliable balance is not the same thing as a proven loss. It means the records are insufficiently dependable to establish what the balance represents—a serious weakness in any organisation, and particularly consequential in one responsible for military readiness.Inadequate records can obstruct decisions long before a final financial loss is demonstrated. Commanders and purchasing authorities need to distinguish usable stock from equipment awaiting inspection, repair or replacement. If those categories are unclear, another procurement decision may rest on a mistaken understanding of what is already available.Auditing is therefore more than an exercise in retrospective blame. A trustworthy inventory helps determine what must be bought next, how urgently it is needed and whether previous purchases fulfilled their purpose. Poor accounting can undermine operational planning even where no theft is established.Paid for is not the same as usableEstonia’s ammunition procurement for Ukraine illustrates a second difficulty. The audit identified disputed advance payments and warned of a potential exposure to the state budget of around €70 million. That figure describes a risk, not a final, adjudicated loss.The controversy includes contracts involving the Italian company Datasel. Pevkur described ammunition delivered under the disputed arrangements as incomplete and of insufficient quality, rather than simply non-existent. Datasel disputes the criticism and has said that goods delivered and invoiced were worth approximately €58 million against about €59 million in advances. The company’s account is a contested position, not a judicial finding.The disagreement exposes a distinction that matters beyond this particular supplier. A payment record, an invoice, the physical presence of goods and acceptance of those goods for their intended use answer different questions. A supplier may point to shipments while a purchasing authority disputes whether the contractual requirement has been met. The existence of equipment does not, by itself, resolve an argument over quality or completeness.For Ukraine, the decisive consideration is usable military support. For the public authorities financing it, the additional questions are whether payment conditions were appropriate, inspections were timely and contractual protections can recover money when performance is disputed. Those questions should be settled through evidence and the relevant proceedings, not through premature declarations of guilt.The procurement lesson is nonetheless clear. Emergency purchasing needs traceable contracts, independently verified acceptance and a dependable record linking each payment to performance. Urgency may justify faster decisions. It cannot make the distinction between an invoice and a functioning delivery disappear.An oversight system split across institutionsEurope’s defence financing does not sit within a single system of scrutiny. National budgets, EU programmes, loans and off-budget arrangements have different institutional responsibilities. The European Court of Auditors’ September review described complex governance and uneven oversight arrangements, rather than a continent-wide absence of auditing.SAFE falls within the European Court of Auditors’ remit. The European Peace Facility, outside the ordinary EU budget, has its own College of Auditors. National defence expenditure is scrutinised through national institutions. The distinction is between different mandates, not between money that is automatically checked and money that is automatically unaccountable. The difficulty arises at the joins. A public explanation may follow the announcement of a financing package, while a procurement body follows the contract and an operational authority follows the equipment. Unless those accounts can be reconciled, citizens and legislators may struggle to establish the complete journey from political promise to accepted delivery.Secrecy complicates that task, but it need not prevent it. Publishing ammunition locations or technical vulnerabilities would be irresponsible. Giving properly authorised auditors access to contracts, inspections and payment records is a different matter. The need to protect operational information should not become a general excuse for withholding financial evidence.Nor should procurement integrity be treated as a rival to speed. Clearly assigned responsibility, verifiable milestones and early checks can prevent disputes from developing into expensive attempts to recover money after the event. The relevant choice is between controls that work during procurement and explanations demanded after something has gone wrong.Where Putin could benefitThese failures do not establish that Vladimir Putin has obtained everything he wanted. A Europe that turns rising expenditure into effective forces would represent a very different outcome. There is also no demonstrated Russian role in the particular German budget dispute or the Estonian accounting and contractual problems described here.The potential advantage for Moscow is indirect. Delayed or disputed deliveries can leave the intended recipient weaker than the expenditure suggests. Confusing financial claims can make it harder to defend further commitments. A succession of procurement controversies could erode confidence not only in individual contracts, but in the wider case for supporting Ukraine and strengthening European defence.That is a strategic risk, not proof of an accomplished Russian victory. The public identification of problems is itself evidence that scrutiny exists. A minister accepting political responsibility, auditors challenging unreliable balances and a government being pressed to explain its borrowing are mechanisms through which democratic systems can correct failure. Their value depends on what happens afterwards.The answer is neither to abandon rearmament nor to shield it from criticism. Governments should report progress in terms that connect money to results: contracts awarded, payments made, equipment accepted and capabilities available, with sensitive details reserved for secure oversight. Disputed transactions should remain visible until resolved rather than disappearing beneath the next spending announcement.Europe does not need to prove its determination by producing another larger number. It needs to demonstrate that the money already committed is becoming usable strength. Until it does, the distance between those two things remains an opportunity for the adversary it is trying to deter.