Tactical and strategic mistakes led to the failure of Kyiv's counteroffensive. Having underestimated the capabilities of the Russian military apparatus, the Ukrainian leadership has to face a decrease in the willingness to support it from the United States
The war in Ukraine is about to enter its third year with a renewed balance. A balance conditioned by a multitude of factors. Let’s start with the fact that last year’s Ukrainian counteroffensive, launched amid great anticipation in early June, tiredly faded in autumn, without achieving its goals. Tokmak and the Sea of Azov remained distant, and the coverage of Bakhmut failed, despite the departure of Wagner, in every sense of the word. Kyiv’s forces made a serious strategic mistake by attacking where the Russians were strongest and most organized and where their defenses were firmest and deepest, and did so, to make matters worse, with limited air support.
They probably thought the Russians would give up and “leave.” In short, they mistakenly believed that the moral factor could be a variable to disrupt the balance. This was not the case. Moscow’s forces survived and showed themselves to be “steadfast,” relying on redundant and traditional static defenses, but also counting on factors that were missing, for example, during the counter-offensive in Kharkov in the spring-autumn 2022: many more people, guided aerial bombs, lots of drones.
Meanwhile, right in the midst of Kyiv’s counteroffensive, Western support began to shrink due to the impasse in the US Congress between Democrats and Republicans, as well as the limitations of a Western-like logistics-industrial system, structured to operate in a non-conflict environment and produce goods on demand, without worrying about inventory and stocks. Increasing capacity is also complicated by the lack of personnel and basic production. “Trivial”: gunpowder, chemicals for gunpowder, and so on. And even the EU’s goal of supplying Ukraine with one million artillery shells by March will not be achieved.
As a result, supplies have shrunk, and Russian artillery has returned to firing more than twice as much daily as Ukrainian artillery, thanks in part to a political-strategic agreement formalized between Moscow and Pyongyang last autumn; an agreement that added more than a million artillery shells and dozens of tactical ballistic missiles to the Russian arsenal (which Russian troops have already begun to “deliver” against targets in Ukraine).
Take also the case of the American ATACMS short-range ballistic missiles, which the Ukrainians had been requesting for months and finally received, but only twenty units. Or the case of the Storm Shadow long-range cruise missiles, which, successfully used by the Ukrainians in the so-called Crimean campaign, were delivered only in fits and starts. Even so, supplies were relative, as the Storm Shadow production line had been closed for years, and opening it just for Kyiv was not and is not, technically speaking, cost-effective.
In short, the West fell a little short at the crucial moment, and now everything is tied to the allocation of US funds and negotiations between Democrats and Republicans, determined by the electoral climate and the weakness of the candidates: Trump is haunted by justice, while Biden is haunted by the weight of his years and body. And here the essence of the Russian hybrid strategy comes into force: continuing the war and ensuring that certain conditions and contradictions ripen in America, and therefore in Europe, while the connection with Kyiv gradually weakens.
Moscow has adapted accordingly: partial mobilization has yielded results, and the workforce is being constantly replenished by the influx of new contract volunteers. Obviously, a broader mobilization base is of great importance. Kyiv, on the other hand, is experiencing great difficulties in mobilizing the necessary resources for weapons and, as the new draft law on mobilization shows, is forced to significantly reduce the requirements, massively opening the ranks for women, sick people (tuberculosis, HIV-infected, chronically ill, etc.), people with mental disorders, etc.
However, adaptation significantly affected both the industrial and military production sectors. Western sanctions have clearly had limited impact in this area. Russia had the opportunity to replace components supplied by the West with triangulations – through Turkey, the UAE, etc. – or with supplies from China and North Korea, while some processes were established in-house. Availability of raw materials did the rest. Overall, thanks to the military regime and government investment, there has been an increase in production, with factories operating 24 hours a day, 7/7, and in three shifts, while the defense budget this year will well exceed the $100 billion mark. This has enabled the industrialization of some capabilities that two years ago were still in the development and prototype stage (one for all: the Kinzhal aeroballistic missile), the large-scale production of drones, satellite guidance kits for bomb aircraft, and the continued supply of an arsenal of ballistic and cruise missiles. In short, Russia today has a number of tools for waging large-scale conventional war that it did not have before (and has never had since the days of the Soviet Union). And we are seeing this in the winter campaign, unleashed in recent weeks, using missiles and drones against the Ukrainian industrial and logistics apparatus.
On the ground, the situation is essentially stalemate: winter, which traditionally slows down actions in these latitudes, and the relative superiority of defense, thanks to the use of artillery, minefields, fortifications, and drones, create an excellent balance. Ukrainians continue to defend Avdeevka and the Svatovo sector, and Moscow forces maintain the initiative in the Bakhmut-Chasov Yar direction and south of Maryinka.
Thus, the war in Ukraine confirms itself as an endless well of people and funds. A well that will sooner or later have to be closed.