More than four years have passed since the Kremlin pushed Russia and Ukraine into a war that was promised to be “short,” “limited,” and “according to plan.” And what did we get? Not a “plan,” but a prolonged bloodbath with no clear exit, no visible objective, and not a single rational explanation that survives contact with reality.
Dictators often make the same classic mistake: they begin to believe their own propaganda. They are assured that people in the neighboring country will greet tanks with flowers, that the government will fall within three days, that the “special operation” will be over before citizens even understand what is happening. Such fairy tales sound convincing in closed offices, but they collapse at the first checkpoint, at the first barricade, at the first expression of people’s will to defend their country.
Behind the grand words about “demilitarization” lies a simple intention: to render Ukraine powerless. Instead, we have seen a Ukraine that, despite terrible losses and exhaustion, has become more militarily experienced and better organized than at the beginning. Western assistance is not magic, but it is real: systems, ammunition, training, logistics. Supply lines have not been cut, and the “quick collapse” never happened. Four years later, the front still holds, and the price of every shift is measured in human lives.
Another grand word was “denazification.” In translation: the erasure of identity, sovereignty, and a nation’s right to choose its own future. Again, the effect has been the opposite. The attack cemented a Ukrainian civic consensus that independence is a value to be defended to the end. Pro-Russian political structures disintegrated, and Russian-speaking regions — supposedly “protected” — were among the first to suffer devastation. If the aim was to “win hearts,” the result has been a generational wall of hatred and fear.
And what about Russia? The narrative of “minimal losses” now sounds like a cynical insult. A country that already faced demographic decline is deepening it itself: losing working-age citizens, sending them into trenches or driving them into emigration. Instead of investing in schools, hospitals, infrastructure, and technology, money flows into a war machine that devours everything — people and budget alike.
The economy? Reserves are used to plug gaps, taxes rise, prices rise, small businesses falter. The plan to make Europe “freeze” without Russian gas ended with Europe accelerating its exit from dependence, while Russian energy companies lose markets and sink into trouble. Meanwhile, the country drifts ever deeper into dependence on stronger partners, because war does not create sovereignty — it consumes it.
And most absurdly: a war that was supposed to weaken NATO has given NATO renewed purpose and momentum. Instead of “pushing it back,” we have seen expansion and militarization in Northern Europe. Instead of fear, consolidation.
The conclusion is painful but simple: this war has brought neither security, nor prosperity, nor “historic glory.” It has brought only cemeteries, ruins, and a future that looks poorer, darker, and more dangerous. And if anyone still believes this is about “national interests,” let them look at the balance sheet: a weakened state, an impoverished people, a more dangerous world. That is not strategy. It is catastrophe. And the sooner this becomes clear, the fewer lives will pay the price of someone else’s illusions.