At its core, the Russian war in Ukraine seeks to transform Ukraine into a Russian sphere of influence, even if this entails the eventual “reclamation” of its territories through a formula that could be agreed upon in the future. Russia, in fact, sees little intrinsic strategic value in Ukrainian land per se; the country suffers neither from a shortage of territory nor from a lack of natural resources. Moreover, it lacks the population density required to establish Russian settlements that would ensure the stability and subordination of any newly acquired regions.
The issue is not geographical, but geo-strategic. Ukraine represents Russia’s gateway to Europe. If it becomes part of the Euro-Atlantic system, Russia risks losing its identity as a Eurasian power, potentially shifting toward a more Asian-oriented geopolitical alignment. In the event of political instability in Moscow—such as a crisis of power succession—Russia could descend into temporary internal chaos. In such a scenario, Ukraine might become a logistical support platform for separatist movements in the North Caucasus and the Volga basin. This is not mere speculation—it is a scenario that has repeatedly shaped Russian history. It was precisely such fears that prompted Tsar Ivan the Terrible to invade and annex the Volga region, and Tsar Nicholas I to launch his campaigns in the Caucasus.
The true threat to the territorial unity of the Russian Federation lies to the west—specifically in what Moscow perceives as its soft underbelly: Ukraine and Georgia. These two countries represent critical pressure points in Russia’s national security architecture. Since 2004, NATO has steadily expanded its presence in Eastern Europe and the Baltic Sea, yet Russia has not regarded this expansion as an existential threat. In contrast, it views developments in Ukraine and Georgia as direct and potentially destabilizing challenges to its internal cohesion and geopolitical orientation.
If transforming these two states into “Belarusian-style” satellite regimes governed by pro-Russian leaders proves unfeasible, then the alternative lies in carving out buffer zones through territorial fragmentation—much like Russia’s control over South Ossetia and Abkhazia in Georgia, or the severing of Ukraine’s connection to Moldova through the breakaway region of Transnistria, thereby preventing any ethno-national unification between Moldova and Romania.
Russia’s current actions in eastern and southern Ukraine—particularly the seizure of the Sea of Azov and the Black Sea—fit neatly into this logic. Moscow is betting on Europe’s eventual fatigue with the prolonged war and conflict. It relies on its own strategic patience and the gradual weakening of NATO cohesion. Russia anticipates that new political leaders may emerge in Georgia and Ukraine who are willing to restore their territorial integrity in exchange for recognizing Russian dominance over regions that Moscow historically views as part of its sphere—regions it claims to have helped build and elevate.
Once the western security dilemma is resolved, the door to Europe may once again be opened for Russia. This would allow it to position itself as a dominant conduit for trade between China and Europe, thereby establishing a powerful geopolitical and geo-economic leverage. Such a shift could help compensate for Russia’s relative economic and military shortcomings in comparison to its European and Chinese neighbors.
According to this vision, the next strategic phase is an eastward turn—focusing on investment in the Russian Far East, envisioned as the future engine of Russia’s economic growth. The goal is to transform Russia into a major power endowed with abundant natural resources and rare earth minerals, while selectively opening its markets to investments from Europe, the United States, South Korea, and Japan. At its core, the strategy seeks to curb Chinese expansion—not through confrontation, but by leveraging cooperative economic ties with the West and its allies, all while preserving Russia’s sovereign decision-making and avoiding subordination to either Western or Chinese capital dominance. In this way, Russia aspires to become the “master of the game” between East and West, maintaining an independent and balanced geopolitical posture.
In doing so, Russia would secure its full advantage as a Eurasian power—the geopolitical “heartland” and the central force shaping the contours of the next global order.
This is how Putin thinks. This is the grand strategy that, in his view, justifies any sacrifice—no matter how great—to achieve these “noble” goals. Understanding this perspective is essential to grasp the motivations and rationale behind the current war, regardless of whether or not Russia ultimately succeeds in its objectives.
