Ukraine, Year 5: Preparations for an even longer and deadlier war
Russian invasion of Ukraine. Year five –five!–. The war, that Vladimir Putin was supposed to resolve in three days and that Donald Trump would solve in 24 hours, continues.
The current political landscape could be summarized in three acts. First: peace talks are not working, and politicians and experts admit the prospect of an even longer and more deadly warSecond: Putin has neither the urgency nor the incentive to finish it, and his main objective remains subjugating Kyiv. Third: Ukraine has no choice but to fight on the front lines while resisting Trump's ambushes and praying to the gods that Washington doesn't ultimately succumb to Moscow's wishes. Epilogue: Europe, in the midst of an existential crisis, merely... the symbolism because he still has no seat at the table where decisions can be made.
This week I asked several Ukrainian military personnel how they had celebrated their fourth anniversary of the war. Wars change the meaning of words or at least make them sound strange: celebrate, birthday
"We're not celebrating anything today. At most, we're remembering the dead," said Private Taras, who fights in Donbas, where death is commonplace. "Praying that this will be the last," said Private Yuri, who holds a high-ranking position in the defense of Kyiv and has a daughter who recently arrived in Barcelona to study. Commander Baloo responded sarcastically from somewhere on his forehead: "With a beer, what else can I do?" But then he'd get serious and ignore the anniversary: "This war will be long and soon it will be boring. There's no progress, no ideas, we're at a standstill. I don't know what to think anymore."
In the last conversations I've had with a dozen soldiers from the Kiiv troops, fatigue has evolved into a mixture of dejection and resignation. The interpretation of all the uniformed personnel I consulted is similar to that of Commander Baloo: the troops are tired, but they say they have no alternative but to keep fighting and that, therefore, they must fight. A discourse similar to the one that prevails among a large part of the population. In September, during my last trip to UkraineI was surprised that almost no one was willing to hand over territory in exchange for immediate peace with Russia. They said that if Ukraine gave in now, Putin would interpret it as a sign of vulnerability and would attack the country again a few years later to finish the job.
The most recent polls continue to show that a majority of the population (between 55% and 65%) reject handing over Donbas in exchange for a ceasefire. One of these polls—published in January by the Kyiv International Institute of Sociology—stated that 65% of Ukrainians They are prepared to endure the war "for as long as necessary."
There is a question—less practical, more moral, and therefore perhaps more decisive—that is being repeated more and more frequently in the country: If an unjust peace is agreed upon, what will have been the point of four years of death and suffering?
This week, the week of my birthday, I watched a controversial documentary: Russians at war, by Russian director Anastasia Trofimova. Viewed from a Western perspective, the film—screened at festivals such as Venice and Toronto—offers an interesting and relatively new perspective of significant journalistic value: the inner workings of a Russian battalion fighting on the Ukrainian front. It's the other side of war that we usually see in the West. The Zelensky government, and several voices from other European governments, have criticized the film, arguing that it whitewashes the Kremlin's troops, humanizing them. Can an invading army be humanized? Is it ethical to give voice to its thoughts?
At one point in the documentary, A group of Russian soldiers discuss the meaning of this warOnly a few repeat the Kremlin's official line: it is necessary to combat the Nazism of Ukraine. Most soldiers express doubt, disorientation, and vulnerability. Some fight for money, others due to social pressure, many because they were forcibly conscripted. They all dream of returning home alive. They don't seem to enjoy their work much. One of them says: "If I have to fight, I want it to be for a just cause. And I'm not sure this is a just cause." The few clues we get from Russian private life suggest that fatigue among the uniformed personnel is also significant. in crescendo.
The main battalion consisted of 900 soldiers, and by the end of the documentary, only 300 will remain: the other 600 will have been killed. The Ukrainian fronts are a bloodbath for soldiers: nearly two million casualties on both sides since the invasion began. A Russian medic, who has made a vow on her forehead and prays every night for the war to end, asks herself a universal, historical question: "Why do soldiers die?" The documentary prompts reflection on another universal, historical reality: wars are often waged by men themselves, with different orders and uniforms.
War Calculations
The Russian army enters its fifth year of total war against Ukraine occupying only 12% more territory than it did on February 24, 2022. If we do the math on the scale of the war, this figure means that For every 100 square kilometers conquered, 367 Moscow soldiers died.The total tally evokes World War II: 1.2 million Russian casualties, of which 325,000 were soldiers killed. The rest were wounded or missing.
The Ukrainian army's calculations are equally grim: 150,000 soldiers killed; 400,000 wounded; and nearly another 100,000 missing. Sperm freezing clinics are making a fortune in the country: Many soldiers leave a DNA sample before going to the front to ensure offspring in case they don't return. The Kyiv government has begun subsidizing treatment for the demographic catastrophe that the war is causing. Drones have made—and will make—war much more deadly.
According to recent leaks from Ukrainian propaganda, Kyiv's goal for 2026 is to kill and wound 50,000 Russian soldiers every month. Defense Minister Mikhail Federov believes that, in this way, the war can become unsustainable for Russian troops. since the Kremlin recruits about 30,000 new uniformed personnel per month. 2025 was the deadliest year on the battlefield, and Ukraine's successes in December are reflected in the fact that they inflicted nearly 40,000 casualties on the invading forces that month. But Kyiv's strategy raises concerns: it relies on too many external actors to sustain it. Russia's strategy—without dependencies, with more weapons and more men to send to kill and die—is not new: continue until exhaustion consumes the morale of both enemy troops and their allies. The war in Ukraine has become existential for Putin, and alarm bells are ringing again from Moscow because the Kremlin is reportedly preparing another mass recruitment drive. The war has entered a vicious cycle.
Russian invasion of Ukraine, year five, and the question remains the same: When will the war end? Even sources within the Ukrainian government are baffled when asked.