Eurasia Press & News
Although the immediate threat of revolt has been extinguished, the episode may embolden future challengers to Russia’s status quo.
Late last week, Yevgeny Prigozhin, the founder of the Wagner Group, launched a mutiny against the Russian state and began an armed march on Moscow. A day later, it was all over: in a deal brokered by the President of Belarus—a close ally of Vladimir Putin—Prigozhin agreed to stand down and leave the country. Initial reports indicated that Russia agreed to drop a criminal case that had been initiated against Prigozhin; more recently, Putin said that the organizers of the aborted rebellion will be “brought to justice.” (Wagner mercenaries can either join the Russian Army, leave for Belarus, or return home.) But the stunning turn of events—the first challenge of this nature to Putin in more than two decades of rule—has shocked Russia and the world. What it means for the future of both Putin’s rule and the war in Ukraine, which Wagner has played a central role in waging, remains to be seen.
Tatiana Stanovaya is a senior fellow at the Carnegie Russia Eurasia Center. In 2018, she founded R. Politik, a political-analysis firm, which is based in France. I recently corresponded with Stanovaya via e-mail. Our conversation, edited for length and clarity, is below. In it, we discuss what Prigozhin was trying to accomplish, why Putin’s response was more passive than might have been expected, and whether a post-Putin Russia is now imaginable.
How should the past couple of days change the way we view Prigozhin? What did we learn? Does this change the way you view his prior behavior?
Let’s face it: we, myself included, underestimated the risks associated with Prigozhin’s capacity to incite a mutiny. This, in many respects, is tied to our struggle, as observers, to believe that anyone within Putin’s regime could act in such a manner. I purposely refrain from using the phrase “turn against Putin” because Prigozhin didn’t aim to overthrow the regime, nor did he anticipate that it would be so straightforward to traverse half the distance to Moscow without encountering any barriers. [On Monday, Prigozhin claimed that his intention was to “demonstrate our protest.”] Nevertheless, his actions and speech represented, without a doubt, a significant challenge to the regime. For months, Prigozhin had been escalating, each time breaching new boundaries, daring to voice bolder statements, and increasingly targeting narratives of strategic importance to Putin. Behind closed doors, many high-profile individuals in the Russian leadership expressed their discontent and apprehension about Prigozhin’s rise, and even more so about Putin’s indifferent and laissez-faire stance.
But let’s be clear: this was not an attempt to conduct a coup. It was a gesture of desperation. Prigozhin wrapped up his “mission” in Ukraine after bearing heavy losses and feeling humiliated by the apparent indifference directed at him by the Kremlin. He found himself at odds with the system, and bereft of any means to uphold his status or position, notwithstanding the fact that he had arguably secured the sole significant military triumph [in Bakhmut] that Russia had seen since the summer of 2022. Regardless of the apparent feelings of marginalization, it seems that the war fuelled his self-esteem, underpinned by the conviction that he still enjoyed Putin’s favor and had his support. He was under the impression that his exploits in Ukraine had elevated him to the status of a military hero in Putin’s eyes. Prigozhin lost touch with reality and a sense of proportion.
This serves as an important lesson for us—with Putin appearing increasingly detached and the élites feeling anxious and desperate, it’s possible for someone to rise and challenge the regime. Prigozhin’s mutiny will only amplify these risks.
Why is Putin allowing himself to seem weak? Even his spokesman gave credit for the stand-down to Aleksander Lukashenko, the President of Belarus. Is this a conscious strategy?
This is a frequent query that I have to clarify for Western audiences. Putin does not concern himself with his image in the same way leaders in conventional Western democracies do. His understanding of power is not derived from the populace, but rather from a divine source, a sense of historical rectitude, and a sense of justice. Numerous instances have demonstrated how Putin dismisses public opinion and supports unpopular measures, such as the pension reform in 2018 or the mobilization last autumn. During the war, he was dismissive of the outrage from patriots, appointing the hugely unpopular Valery Gerasimov to oversee the “special military operation,” in January, and extolling the Minister of Defense, Sergei Shoigu. To Putin, the democratic world’s inclination to avoid embarrassment and humiliation morphs into populist enslavement, which can potentially compromise the interests of the state. I am not advocating for or glamorizing Putin. My point is that it would be mistaken to anticipate that his political decisions will be influenced by considerations of optics and public or international opinion. And I concede that this trait is becoming one of the primary weaknesses of his regime, and one which will eventually work against him.
Regarding Putin’s sudden about-face on Prigozhin, who went from a revolutionary to be crushed to a forgiven warrior in a matter of hours, what alternatives did he have? Wait for the rebellion to inch closer to Moscow; provoke a bloodbath with significant casualties, including civilians; incite conflict between Russians and Chechens in the Rostov region with unpredictable and inevitably negative repercussions; and even risk pushing the country toward civil war? Putin effectively tackled the issue of Wagner and Prigozhin by dissolving the former and expelling the latter. While it’s a significant blow and a humiliation for Putin and the state, he will likely view it as a learning opportunity and concentrate on fortifying the regime and addressing its exposed weaknesses. The security services will gain more powers, the regime will hasten its shift toward a military dictatorship, and the Kremlin may become more brutal toward dissent within the patriotic camp.
Regarding Lukashenko, his role was merely procedural. Putin fundamentally refused to communicate with Prigozhin, while Prigozhin declined to negotiate with Putin’s subordinates. The leader of Belarus was brought in to relay an offer to Prigozhin that he couldn’t refuse. The message was straightforward—face a humiliating demise or retreat to Belarus. It’s crucial to remember that this is not a cast-iron agreement; we’re dealing with human intentions in a moment of shock. Either side may reconsider their commitments, and the confrontation could assume a different form. But I am certain that, regardless of what ensues, Prigozhin’s time is over, and Wagner will be dismantled.
What do we know about how popular Prigozhin is with the Russian public and specifically with the lower ranks of the armed forces?
Prigozhin has gradually emerged as a prominent figure in recent months, his audacity and authenticity resonating with many within the patriotic camp. In May, Russian polling from the independent Levada Center indicated that ordinary Russians considered the fall of Bakhmut the most significant event of that month, which boosted Prigozhin’s popularity and significantly elevated his ratings. In the same month, Prigozhin made his first appearance among Russia’s ten most trusted politicians, garnering four-per-cent support, putting him on par with former President Dmitry Medvedev and Gennady Zyuganov [the Communist Party leader], and ahead of Vyacheslav Volodin [the chairman of Russia’s lower house of parliament], and the mayor of Moscow, Sergey Sobyanin, both at three per cent. Prigozhin was barely noticeable as a political figure six months ago and has now gained considerable traction. People tend to back victors, but ordinary Russians were also moved by his open clash with the Ministry of Defense and his comments on ammunition shortages. Notably, residents of Rostov-on-Don sent off Wagner’s forces with applause.
While it’s hard to gauge the scope, there’s reason to believe that middle- and junior-rank military officers harbor sympathies for Wagner. This is why the discourse around the risk of civil war has escalated recently. On one side, there are those who blame the leadership for its inept management of the war—missteps, indecision, corruption—and believe that Prigozhin had some valid points. On the other side, there are those who adopt a statist perspective, asserting that the state must be defended, supported, and bolstered in the face of any rebellions, irrespective of their underlying principles or intentions.
However, the mutiny has somewhat tainted Prigozhin’s image. The concept of rebellion frightens ordinary Russians, who prioritize stability and personal safety over justice in the conduct of war. For a large portion of the urban middle class, Prigozhin remains an intimidating, unappealing figure. For the élites, he embodies their worst fears for a post-Putin Russia. While Prigozhin might retain some followers, their chances of surviving in the aftermath of Putin’s efforts to solidify his regime seem slim.
What do you expect will change in the Russian chain of command?
I’ve become accustomed to the unpredictability of Putin’s personnel decisions. Regardless of the sources you may have at hand, his moves can never be fully anticipated. However, I believe Putin will have to reassess the situation and potentially implement institutional and personnel changes. He may question the F.S.B.’s oversight in missing the mutiny—especially given that the U.S. intelligence officials provided advance briefings to Congress about it. He may question the military’s ability to effectively handle such challenges, senior officials’ hesitation and delay in publicly supporting the state and condemning Prigozhin, and the élites who hastily fled Moscow. He is aware that the situation appeared—and indeed was—precarious. Had Prigozhin, or anyone in his position, been better prepared, with a more consistent plan, the outcomes could have been far worse for Putin.
You have made the point that Putin doesn’t view his political incentives the way people in the West do. Will these events force him to change? If he can’t offer stability like he used to, what can he offer average Russians now?
I don’t believe so. Quite the opposite, in fact. Putin has a particular understanding of how a “genuine political leader” should act. To simplify, he believes that if you do the right things and serve the nation’s interests, the people will support you. If they turn their backs on you, it means you’ve failed to explain your priorities and goals. This perspective held true until Prigozhin’s mutiny. Now, his old fears regarding the fickle nature of human loyalty will likely resurface. The mutiny has shaken Putin’s fundamental belief that a true patriot could not turn against the regime. This could lead him to favor control over trust, and prioritize security over legitimacy.
The notion that Putin provides Russians with stability in exchange for their support began to lose its relevance in 2014, with the annexation of Crimea. Then followed constitutional reform, the poisoning of Alexei Navalny, the eradication of nonsystemic opposition. Now, especially with the ongoing war, stability holds little value. Putin’s main offering these days is protection from an existential threat coming from the West and from nato, which he says is aiming to ruin Russia. In this context, Prigozhin’s mutiny is seen by Russians not as something overly appalling, but as an internal dispute among patriots about how best to combat the hostile West.
What signals do you think he can try to send to other stakeholders and élites that he is still in control? Do you expect changes in strategy vis-à-vis Ukraine or more broadly?
This is also a typical Western interpretation—to use such terms as “signals to élites” or “stakeholders.” In Putin’s system, all political decisions are made solely and exclusively by Putin himself, with élites or senior officials having no opportunity to question them. He doesn’t feel a need to send any signals domestically. He is much more at ease staying publicly detached, downplaying risks, and addressing internal threats quietly and unexpectedly. As for the strategy in Ukraine, I wouldn’t anticipate any significant changes. However, Prigozhin’s case will reaffirm to Putin how detrimental it can be to fragment military forces. He will strive to centralize command, and discourage any autonomy or individual games in Ukraine.
Are you beginning to imagine a post-Putin Russia now, even if it’s not imminent, and, if so, does that vision potentially look different from what you expected?
The nature of a post-Putin Russia could manifest in an array of ways, contingent on when and how the transition happens and the state of the regime at the time. The longer Putin stays in power, the more challenging it may be to uphold “Putinism” and insure continuity. If the domestic situation worsens, the chances of a post-Putin Russia being unstable and chaotic increase. However, the recent events highlight the fragility of the regime in the face of a military revolt. A common sentiment I’ve heard from my contacts in Moscow is that, if Prigozhin had reached Moscow, people wouldn’t have risen up to defend Putin and his regime. The élites would have dispersed, citizens would have rushed to withdraw their money from banks and fled, and those who couldn’t would have adopted a wait-and-see approach. This is a crucial reminder that the current support for Putin, which remains high, is a pragmatic choice to side with the perceived stronger party in times of war. Average Russians harbor no illusions about who Putin is, and there’s a dearth of warm feelings remaining. I believe one of the most profound psychological consequences of this mutiny and its resolution is the realization by many within the Russian political class that one can challenge the status quo and escape unscathed, as demonstrated by Prigozhin. This realization could embolden influential individuals to act more decisively in the future.
Can you give some flavor of how people in Russia are feeling? What are your conversations like?
I still have family, friends, and colleagues in Moscow. Their initial reaction was one of shock: people were scrambling to understand what was happening, whether Prigozhin could actually enter Moscow, and what might ensue; they were wondering if they should flee, hide, or withdraw money from the banks and such. This was a very human response. But, when Prigozhin unexpectedly decided to perform an eyebrow-raising about-face, mediated by Lukashenko’s bizarre intervention, and with Putin behaving as if nothing had happened, people began to ridicule the situation. What began as a mutiny morphed into a circus. Now, Russian social networks are awash with jokes about the situation, mocking the farcical actions of Putin, the security services, the army, as well as Prigozhin and Shoigu. Life is resuming its normal rhythm.
