From Hybrid to Mobilisation: The evolution of Russia's political economy model and the challenges of its military transformation

The full-scale war with Ukraine was entirely unnecessary for either Russian business or the Russian bureaucracy. It became possible due to a shift in the balance of power within the Russian elite that had already occurred in 2012–2014. However, over the next ten years, this shift did not lead to fundamental changes in the hybrid political-economic model that had taken shape in Russia during the 2000s.

Former Vice-Rector of the Higher School of Economics and Director of the Institute for Industrial and Market Studies, Andrei Yakovlev here attempts for the first time to examine the formation and evolution of Russia’s political-economic model through the lens of the widely used 'varieties of capitalism' framework. Within this framework, two ideal types are usually distinguished – the liberal market economy and the coordinated market economy. However, to understand the Russian model and its development, two other modifications characteristic of emerging markets and countries with unstable legal regimes are also essential: the 'developmental state' and the 'mafia state' models.

Over the past twenty-odd years, the Russian model has embodied a hybrid combining features of both the developmental state and the mafia state, layered over the basic structure of a liberal market economy. The proportions of these various elements have gradually shifted under the influence of changes in the political strength of different elite groups. Nevertheless, the persistent principle of hybridity ensured both the crisis resilience of the Russian economy and the fluid stability of its political system, allowing for a balance of elite interests within a personalised autocracy.

However, the challenges faced by the economy as the invasion of Ukraine transformed into a prolonged military conflict are, in Yakovlev’s view, pushing the Russian authorities towards a shift in the direction of a mobilisation model. And although the number of actors interested in such a pivot is growing, this transformation remains a complex and dangerous political manoeuvre whose success is far from guaranteed.

The Russian hybrid model: genesis and key elements

One can speak of three key models, the combination of which formed the foundation of the Putin system over a long period. These are the liberal market economy (LME), the developmental state, and the mafia state. Of these, the first two, the LME and the developmental state, emerge as a result of public policy, that is, publicly declared goals of political coalitions and figures. The mafia state model, by contrast, has never been proclaimed openly; rather, it consists of the de facto strategies employed by powerful actors and elite groups.

The concept of the LME gained popularity in political-economic research in the early 2000s within the 'varieties of capitalism' framework (Hall, Soskice: Varieties of Capitalism). In this framework, the LME is contrasted with the coordinated market economy (CME) and is characterised by limited state regulation, a major role for the stock market in attracting capital, lower levels of worker protection, and a reliance on private business initiative. Conversely, in a CME, key decisions are developed through agreements between business, trade unions, and the state; bank-based financing plays a much larger role, and the level of social guarantees is significantly higher. Historically, the LME model has been typical of the US, the UK, and other Anglo-Saxon countries, while the CME model has been prevalent in Western Europe. Both models have had their strengths and weaknesses and have competed for decades as successful examples of developed capitalist societies.

During the transition to a market economy in the 1990s, Russian reformers, actively supported by advisers from the United States, focused on the LME model. This approach was based on neoliberal ideology, then endorsed by the Kremlin and supported by the mainstream media. However, the move to this model took place under conditions of state weakness, which led to the widespread emergence of 'state capture' practices. Numerous studies have explored this phenomenon in the Russian context (→ Hellman, Jones, Kaufman: Seize The State, Seize The Day), but it is important to emphasise that state capture is a widespread, informal strategy employed by individual actors within various (usually liberal) capitalist models in the context of weak state institutions — it is not a uniquely Russian phenomenon. A striking historical example of such capture within the LME is found in the United States at the turn of the 20th century (see, for example, the introduction to the book → Knott, Miller: Reforming Bureaucracy).

The period of rapid economic growth experienced by Japan and later by South Korea and Taiwan during the 1950s to 1970s gave rise to yet another form of capitalism – the developmental state model. This involves a leading role for the state in setting priorities for economic growth, the implementation of active industrial policy, and typically, an export-oriented economy (→ Johnson: MITI and The Japanese Miracle; Amsden: Asia’s Next Giant). The criterion of successful export expansion as a prerequisite for state support helped limit corruption, which otherwise tends to accompany active state intervention. In favour of such a model, many economists from the Russian Academy of Sciences, opposed to Yegor Gaidar’s radical reforms, spoke out as early as the 1990s. However, the main obstacles to implementing this model at the time were the weakness of the state and the high levels of corruption. An additional limitation was the presence of resource rent and the activity of powerful elite groups that had no interest in genuine economic diversification or support for non-resource-based exports.

The acute economic and political crisis of August 1998 altered the balance of elite power. In particular, the political position of groups relying on state capture was weakened. This created the preconditions for a 'restoration' of the state, which took place with the rise of Vladimir Putin. The strengthening of state capacity, in turn, opened up the possibility of incorporating elements of the developmental state into the Russian capitalist model. A prominent advocate of this direction within the state apparatus from the mid-2000s onward has been the current Defence Minister, Andrei Belousov.

The concept of the ‘mafia state,’ described in the works of Hungarian scholars Bálint Magyar and Bálint Madlovics (→ Magyar: Post-Communist Mafia State; Magyar, Madlovics: The Anatomy of Post-Communist Regimes), stems from a broader line of research into the 'predatory state'. In the Russian context, this can be identified by criminal practices of business expropriation involving law enforcement agencies. These practices became widespread in the 2000s, with the most prominent example being the infamous Yukos case. Such operations typically involved coordination among corrupt officials, law enforcement officers, and affiliated businessmen who acted as an informal group.

A key feature of the 'mafia state' is that it is not merely individual officials but the entire state apparatus that begins to serve the private political and economic interests of specific individuals. A vivid example of this is Chechnya under Ramzan Kadyrov. Yet even at the federal level, manifestations of the mafia state were evident in the 2000s, for instance, the assassination of Alexander Litvinenko in London, the perpetrators of which were later elected to the State Duma; or the Magnitsky case, in which all those involved retained their positions within the state apparatus.

Table 1 presents my assessment of the relative proportions and significance of the various economic models that made up the Russian hybrid from the post-Soviet period through to the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. As already mentioned, elements of both the developmental state and the mafia state only began to appear in Russia during the 2000s, primarily because prior to that, the state was too weak to pursue such strategies within economic policy. Nevertheless, the dominant orientation remained towards the LME model, which aligned with the interests of business and a substantial part of the bureaucracy. It also enabled the continuation of state capture practices on a significant scale, made possible by the considerable resource rent generated by the extraordinarily high global prices for energy commodities.

Table 1. Main elements of the hybrid political-economic model in Russia in 1991–2021

By the second half of the 2000s, the hybrid model of the Russian economy, built upon a combination of various systems and practices, had taken shape. This model offered the Kremlin and the government a high degree of flexibility in deploying different instruments of economic policy, depending on external circumstances and the particular problems requiring attention.

Key actors and groups: their strategies and preferences

In much of the literature examining the relationship between the state and business in Russia, attention has typically been focused on three main groups: the oligarchs, the top-level bureaucracy, and the security services (siloviki). However, in practice, the range of influential actors within the Russian economy since the beginning of market reforms has been significantly broader (see Table 2).

Table 2. Key actor groups in the Russian economy

In addition to the senior bureaucracy and the security services, regional administrative elites and top managers of state-owned enterprises also operated on the side of the state. The Kremlin should be distinguished as an independent actor, positioned above the rest and responsible for key personnel decisions. This refers not only to Putin personally (despite the extreme concentration of power in his hands), but also to the Presidential Administration as a powerful bureaucratic body that drafts proposals for Putin and can significantly influence both the design and implementation of decisions.

Among private actors, alongside Russian oligarchs, large foreign businesses deserve special attention, particularly those with direct access to the Prime Minister and senior officials through the Foreign Investment Advisory Council (FIAC). It was within this forum that the framework for the radical tax reform of 2001–2002 was largely developed, along with decisions that facilitated the entry of leading international car manufacturers into Russia. The collective interests of foreign businesses were also represented through influential associations: the American Chamber of Commerce (AmCham), the Association of European Businesses (AEB), and the Russian-German Chamber of Commerce (AHK). International financial institutions (the World Bank, IMF, EBRD), which were active in Russia throughout the 1990s and 2000s, can also be considered a distinct group as their agenda generally aligned with the interests of foreign business.

Following the decline in political influence of the oligarchs after the Yukos case, the role of small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) became more prominent, particularly those represented by the associations Delovaya Rossiya (Business Russia) and Opora Rossii (Support of Russia). In the early 2010s, several representatives of Business Russia even attained significant positions in the state apparatus. Lastly, compared to the 1990s, the influence of organised criminal groups in the Russian economy diminished markedly in the 2000s, though they still exist and operate in their own interests, collaborating with corrupt law enforcement officials (e.g. smuggling, drug trafficking, etc.) and legal businesses (e.g. supplying undocumented migrant labour).

At the same time, the judiciary and the chambers of the Federal Assembly are not considered independent actors, given that from the mid-2000s the former was effectively incorporated into the law enforcement system and state apparatus, while the latter are under near-complete control of the Presidential Administration. Similarly, trade unions, public sector organisations, political parties, NGOs, and the media are excluded from the list of non-state actors typically considered in analyses of LME and CME models, due to their extremely limited influence on economic policymaking in Russia.

The sources of rent used by the regime to ensure the political loyalty of major elite groups include: (1) the distribution of assets (including land ownership) during the privatisations of the 1990s and 2000s; (2) price distortions inherited from the Soviet planned economy (especially relevant in the 1990s, but partially persisting thereafter); (3) resource rents (from the 2000s onward); (4) low labour costs; (5) legal profits from innovation and economic growth (including access to new and expanding markets); (6) revenues from coercive redistribution of property; (7) corruption related to access to markets and budgetary resources; (8) profits from illicit businesses (smuggling, financial fraud, drug trafficking, and illegal migration networks).

The elite groups listed above relied on different sources of rent. For the oligarchic business class, income from privatisation and resource rents were especially important. For foreign companies and other private businesses, key sources of rent in the 1990s included price differentials between Russia and international markets, as well as profits from accessing new markets and benefiting from economic growth in the 2000s. All categories of business, moreover, profited from low wages, which were underpinned by weak trade unions and a de facto informal contract between the Kremlin and the business community. Under this arrangement, in exchange for political loyalty, all businesses (not just the oligarchs) were able to earn substantial profits within the Russian market due to the low cost of labour (a situation that remained largely unchanged until 2022).

On the state side, two main rent sources can be identified. For the federal bureaucracy, regional elites, and top managers of state enterprises, administrative authority acted as a rent-generating asset, used to secure corrupt incomes. Economic growth, meanwhile, expanded the budgetary base, thereby increasing the influence and financial security of both state officials and state enterprise leaders.

Crucially, the groups listed above were often able to contribute to economic growth and directly benefited from it. For the security services, however, rents derived from the redistribution of property and control over illegal businesses were more important. They generally viewed their official income as fixed and entirely dependent on the Kremlin’s decisions, irrespective of the broader economic context. This mindset is confirmed by the fact that economic harm caused by the siloviki has no bearing on their own financial position.

The differing sources of rent and behavioural strategies adopted by these actors led to diverging 'preference maps' with regard to models of capitalism. Our schematic assessment of these preferences during the 2000s, the first decade of Putin’s rule, is presented in Table 3.

Table 3. Preferences of key actors regarding different economic models in the 2000s

It is worth noting the notable similarity in preferences among the senior bureaucracy, oligarchs, foreign investors, and private business in favour of the LME model, as well as the lesser interest of most actors in the 'developmental state' model. Orientation towards the latter in the 2000s was mainly characteristic of regional administrative elites (examples include Tatarstan, Belgorod, and Kaluga regions) and part of the senior bureaucracy. For another segment of the regional elites, the security services, and top managers of state-owned enterprises, practices of 'state capture' remained relevant. The 'mafia state' model was fully realised in Chechnya in the 2000s, while its instruments were actively employed by the security services (primarily for asset seizures). During this period, the Kremlin officially declared a commitment to the 'developmental state' model, but in practice preferred the LME model, using mafia-state practices to achieve specific objectives.

Overall, by the late 2000s, the Putin system rested on a relative balance of power between the security services and the senior bureaucracy, against the backdrop of a declining influence of the oligarchs (following the Yukos affair). At the same time, despite growing tensions with the West after the 'colour revolutions' in the post-Soviet space and Vladimir Putin’s Munich speech, most elite groups were still oriented towards integration into global markets and sought to become part of the global elite club. These tendencies were most clearly visible during Dmitry Medvedev’s presidency at the turn of the decade.

The transformation of hybridity after 2012: from decentralised to centralised corruption and its political and economic consequences

The changes in the balance of power between various groups following Vladimir Putin’s return to the Kremlin in 2012, and the corresponding changes to the political-economic model, were a direct consequence of the mass protests of 2011–2012. These protests were triggered by blatant manipulations during the State Duma elections at the end of 2011, but their underlying causes were broader: they were rooted in the urban middle class’s (especially in large cities) dissatisfaction with the 'quality' of the state.

Thanks to the oil boom and economic growth of the 2000s, household incomes had increased substantially. While in the 1990s most of the population was preoccupied with economic survival, by the 2000s people were thinking about the quality of their living environment and good education for their children. At the same time, in the context of widespread corruption within the state apparatus (which correlated with a tendency toward state capture practices among most actors during this period), they were faced with poor-quality education, healthcare, and transport infrastructure. Notably, it was precisely the theme of fighting corruption that marked Alexei Navalny’s rise during this period as a leading opposition politician.

The Kremlin’s response to the 2011–2012 political protests was to crack down on the opposition. At the same time, recognising the widespread demand for a different quality of state, the Kremlin also launched an anti-corruption drive within the state apparatus. In some instances, this campaign was used to remove officials deemed insufficiently loyal to Putin. Nevertheless, in many areas of public administration, the quality of bureaucratic work improved, partly due to the introduction of digital technologies. Examples include improved tax administration following Mikhail Mishustin’s appointment to the Federal Tax Service, the creation of a digital public services system, and the reduction of technical barriers to doing business (reflected in Russia’s significant progress in the World Bank’s Doing Business ranking). Empirical studies of public procurement during this period also indicated a reduction in corruption at the lower and middle levels of the state apparatus (→ Balaeva, Rodionova, Yakovlev, Tkachenko: Public Procurement Efficiency as Perceived by Market Participants). It was also during this period that special programmes were launched for the selection and training of public sector personnel at the RANEPA academy, overseen by Sergey Kiriyenko, alongside a notable refresh of the gubernatorial corps, partly drawn from the graduates of these programmes.

Under political pressure from the opposition, the Kremlin preferred, using the terminology of the well-known article by Shleifer and Vishny (→ Shleifer, Vishny: Corruption), to shift from a model of decentralised corruption, typical of the 1990s and 2000s, to one of centralised corruption. This latter model implies a lower degree of state capture and is generally less damaging to society.

At the same time, however, the Kremlin faced new challenges. The annexation of Crimea, carried out to achieve 'patriotic mobilisation' as a counterweight to the protest mood of 2011–2012, triggered an armed conflict in the Donbas. Support for Donbas separatism led to the growth of mercenarism and private military companies (including Wagner PMC), which were subsequently deployed to serve Russian state interests in Syria, Libya, and Central African countries. During the same period, the Kremlin greatly intensified subversive activities in European countries (the poisoning of Sergei Skripal by GRU agents in Salisbury in 2018, the murder of Zelimkhan Khangoshvili by an FSB officer in Berlin in 2019). Combined with the general increase in the regime’s repressive character, this allows us to speak of a notable expansion of mafia-state practices within Russia’s political-economic model.

The annexation of Crimea and the conflict in the Donbas were accompanied by intensified anti-Western rhetoric, stricter legislation regarding independent NGOs, and strengthened state propaganda, which facilitated 'patriotic mobilisation.' The Kremlin’s attempts to formulate a state-driven 'patriotic ideology' during this period resonated with the security services, but failed to gain real support among other elite groups, who remained oriented towards integrating Russia into the global sphere and viewed the 2014 sanctions as a temporary obstacle on that path. This understanding of Russia’s core development trajectory was reinforced by increased activity among liberal-leaning universities (HSE, RSE, European University in St Petersburg).

At the same time, the imposition of international sanctions, which were painful for the Russian economy and revealed its heavy dependence on imports, stimulated the expansion of elements of the developmental state model. It was during this period that support programmes for universities and scientific research were launched, the state-run Agency for Strategic Initiatives became active, and new development institutions emerged, such as the Industrial Development Fund. Significantly, these were also the years during which Andrey Belousov, the driving force behind many of these technocratic initiatives, experienced rapid career advancement.

The improved quality of the bureaucracy, the ability of officials to communicate effectively with business, and their capacity to swiftly adopt economic support measures became particularly evident during the 2020 pandemic lockdown, which was a serious test for the economy. As a result, although initial forecasts projected a 6% fall in Russia’s GDP, the actual decline in 2020 was only 2.5%, noticeably lower than in the US or Germany. At the same time, Russia’s spending on economic support was several times lower than that of those countries.

Given the marked slowdown in economic growth in the 2010s (around 1% annually between 2012 and 2019, compared with 7% from 2000 to 2007), the shift from decentralised to centralised corruption, which effectively limited state capture practices, freed up resources for the simultaneous expansion of both developmental state elements and mafia-state practices. Meanwhile, the underlying base of the economy remained the LME model, established in the 2000s through the joint efforts of liberal technocrats and representatives of Russian and international business. Thus, despite a shift in the weight of different segments, by the start of the full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the Russian economy continued to rely on elements from various political-economic models, in the absence of a dominant ideology or any broad consensus on common development goals and strategies for achieving them.

The war with Ukraine: two stages of adaptation

The full-scale war against Ukraine, launched in February 2022, was unnecessary for either business or the bureaucratic elites. The Kremlin took this decision in defiance of the interests not only of ordinary companies but also of the largest corporations, including state-owned ones. Both the business community and the government’s economic bloc expressed deeply negative assessments of the potential consequences of the war and the wide-reaching international sanctions.

However, by the summer of 2022, sentiments within the business community began to shift. The contradictory design of the sanctions, previously accumulated reserves, and rising oil prices and, accordingly, export revenues, enabled the Kremlin to avoid a significant economic downturn. Budget spending was then increased to stimulate economic growth, further supported by the new opportunities for import substitution that opened up to Russian companies. A significant factor was the government’s effective use of the anti-crisis policy experience developed during the pandemic, which had produced tools of support devised in collaboration with business.

All this led to only a slight decline in GDP was recorded in 2022, while in 2023–2024 Rosstat reported annual economic growth of around 4%. At the same time, from 2023 onwards, signs of mounting tension began to emerge in the economy. The substantial injection of funds stimulated not only demand but also inflation. In response, the Central Bank steadily raised the key interest rate from 7.5% in July 2023 to 21% in autumn 2024. However, the clearest indicator of growing problems came with the 2025 budget, which envisaged a further rise in military spending to 13.5 trillion rubles, alongside a nominal reduction in social policy expenditure. These structural changes suggest that the Kremlin is already running short of resources to simultaneously finance the war, fulfil social obligations, and support the economy. The liquid part of the National Wealth Fund fell from 11 trillion rubles at the end of 2021 (with the exchange rate around 75 rubles to the dollar) to less than 3 trillion rubles (at a rate of about 80 rubles to the dollar) as of 1 June 2025. Although income and corporate tax rates were already raised in January 2025, the government is now raising the prospect of further tax increases.

Against the backdrop of depleting rent sources, the asset redistribution processes that began in 2023 through the nationalisation of enterprises, later transferred to entrepreneurs connected to the Kremlin, are taking on new significance. Another factor affecting the business mood is the growing realisation of Russia’s technological lag. Hopes for attracting Chinese investment and technology transfer have not materialised, and Russia’s foreign trade has become heavily dependent on China. As a result, Russian business now faces the prospect of long-term economic stagnation, combined with a new wave of asset redistribution and rising taxes.

After three years of a bloody war, which has consumed enormous resources, and in the face of escalating economic challenges and internal contradictions, the Kremlin is confronted with the need to transform the hybrid model that has characterised recent decades and move towards a more uniform politico-economic order, one that can be grounded in clear ideological foundations.

However, this drive is by no means based on any elite consensus. On the contrary, it is leading to heightened contradictions among the key elite groups. Table 4 presents my assessment of the preferences and shifts in bargaining power of the main actors after three years of war. Compared to the situation in the 2000s, there has been a marked decline in support for the LME model. Under current conditions, most private sector actors, as well as the higher bureaucracy and regional authorities, would likely prefer a developmental state model. However, their influence on decision-making has been limited since the mid-2010s, and has further diminished during the war years. By contrast, Kremlin decisions are now even more strongly shaped by the preferences of the security apparatus. For these groups, alongside the model of a ‘mafia state’, the mobilisation economy model also appears attractive. What’s more, this model is now seen as preferable by certain broader social groups, namely the hundreds of thousands of contract soldiers and their families, whose incomes have increased four- to fivefold during the war and for whom the war has provided an opportunity to dramatically improve their social status, as well as those working in the defence sector and business figures profiting from servicing the front and the occupied territories.

Table 4. Changes in the preferences and bargaining power of key actors after three years of war

The mobilisation economy model had not enjoyed significant support in previous periods. Although it had been partly articulated since 2013 in the reports of the ultra-conservative Izborsky Club, this direction was regarded as entirely marginal by both the business and bureaucratic elite. The first attempt to give these ideas 'academic legitimacy' and sufficient gravitas came with the publication of the book The Crystal of Growth in 2021 (its principal author being Alexander Galushka, Minister for the Development of the Russian Far East from 2013 to 2018, and previously President of the Delovaya Rossiya business association). The book claims that the most successful period in the USSR’s economic history was between 1929 and 1953, when industrialisation was carried out, a robust industrial base was created enabling victory in the war against Germany, and a technological breakthrough achieved, allowing for the development of nuclear weapons and the launch of the first artificial satellite.

In a similar vein, the idea of 'patriotic socialism' was put forward in June 2024 by the current head of the Ministry for the Development of the Far East and Arctic, Alexei Chekunkov. He too refers to the 'great construction projects of communism' of the 1930s–1950s as a model. 'Having gone through the sins of rapid capital accumulation in the 1990s, Russian entrepreneurship has remained, in the public eye, immoral and parasitic,' the minister writes, and thus the alternative to 'business in its Western understanding' should be 'a union of servants and creators, financed by bolder use of public debt.' It is worth noting that Chekunkov does not belong to the 'Soviet generation': he was born in 1980, began his career in business, and later worked at the Russian Direct Investment Fund alongside Kirill Dmitriev. Whether these officials truly believe what they are saying or are simply following an 'intellectual fashion' in pursuit of career advancement is less important than the fact that their rhetoric marks a new vector of transformation in the economy and society. Similar views circulate within the circle of 'children' of the current Kremlin elite (→ Novaya Gazeta: Messenger of the Permafrost).

The fork in the road for the mobilisation model

What does the mobilisation model mean in practice? Mobilisation economy generally refers to a sharp and exceptional expansion of state powers in the economic sphere, usually observed during wartime. As a fully-fledged model of societal development, it was implemented in Stalin’s USSR, with arguments about the need to prepare for war with the 'imperialist encirclement'. Since the mid-20th century, many countries have attempted to borrow from this experience to varying degrees. Examples of consistent and prolonged use of this model include Maoist China and, for nearly 80 years now, North Korea. It is telling that in the past three years, North Korea has become the Kremlin’s closest ally, not only supplying weapons but also sending its own soldiers to fight in the war against Ukraine.

However, despite certain similarities in the behaviour of Vladimir Putin and Kim Jong-un as leaders of personalist dictatorships, Russia is radically different from North Korea, not only in terms of development levels but also in its political experience of the past 30 years and, most crucially for our discussion, in its elite structure.

As shown in classic studies on authoritarian regimes, the main risks for autocracy are: popular uprisings, palace coups, and military defeat (e.g. → Tullock: Autocracy). The third option is not applicable to a nuclear-armed Russia as no external players are planning to 'capture the Kremlin.' Comparative data on authoritarian regimes shows that elite coups are far more dangerous to such regimes than popular uprisings, especially in the context of a strong police state capable of harshly suppressing public dissent (e.g. → Frantz, Ezrow: The Politics of Dictatorship).

In this context, the real threat to the regime today comes from the business and bureaucratic elite that emerged in the 1990s–2000s under the hybrid model. This elite possesses certain resources and could quite conceivably exist without Putin. For this reason, the Kremlin is likely to try to replace it with those whose future is entirely tied to the regime’s survival. If Putin manages to accomplish this in the next three to four years, the regime may well reach a new, stable socio-political equilibrium, similar to that which North Korea has maintained for decades, allowing its regime to survive the devastating socio-economic crises of the 1990s (when hundreds of thousands died of famine).

It hardly needs stating what kind of threat a personalist dictatorship of the North Korean type would pose to European and global security, especially on the scale of Russia and with its military capabilities. Nor should we entertain illusions that, in the event of Western compromise, Putin might easily halt the war he started. Over the past three years, war-profiting groups have emerged in Russia, and it is these groups that now constitute the regime’s primary social base. Can the Kremlin simply shut down the military-industrial sector, which has multiplied its output? And what is to be done with the hundreds of thousands of individuals who have gained combat experience and become used to earning three to four times more than they would in the civilian economy? The historical parallels with Germany after 1938, when the Nazi regime had reached a point of no return, are hard to ignore.

However, the desire of part of the elite to recreate a mobilisation model in a new guise (with public discourse referencing the Soviet rather than the North Korean version) does not at all mean that such a transition will be easy or painless for the Kremlin. It would require a fundamentally different level of state intrusion into citizens’ private lives and a restriction of personal freedoms (in this regard, some elements of 'labour coercion' will likely be required by the Russian authorities for purely economic reasons, given labour shortages and restricted labour migration).

The process of radically curtailing political freedoms in Russia took nearly 20 years: from the 'Yukos case' in 2003 to the constitutional 'amendments' in 2020. This unfolded under relatively favourable economic conditions: in the 2000s it occurred against the backdrop of rapidly rising personal incomes, and in the 2010s amidst a preserved standard of living. But in the near future, the Kremlin will have little to offer citizens aside from rising prices, higher taxes, and restrictions on personal consumption, alongside increasing state interference in private life. The main victims will be today’s business and bureaucratic elites, as unlike ordinary Russian citizens, they have something to lose, and it is they who are expected to be physically replaced by the 'new elite'.

Resistance from these elite groups, as well as the regime’s lack of financial resources, could lead to the derailment of the 'mobilisation' scenario. If such a breakdown does not result in regime change (for which there are currently no significant signs), there is a strong likelihood that Russia could slide into a situation resembling Venezuela under Maduro. At first glance, this scenario may appear less catastrophic than that of a 'Greater North Korea', yet the escalation of chaos in a country possessing vast nuclear arsenals makes it extremely dangerous.

Are there more positive scenarios? For Putin, the war has become a means of maintaining his own legitimacy, and he has no rational incentive to end it. Furthermore, the past three years have demonstrated that the economic model and bureaucratic system built in Russia over the previous two decades have proven relatively resilient to external pressure. Therefore, the war can only be brought to an end through a change of power, based on collective action by those actors within Russia who neither need the war nor identify with the regime. However, neither the opposition nor the West has, as yet, formulated a realistic vision of post-war Russia that is both internationally credible and acceptable to the majority of Russian citizens. The emergence of such a 'vision of the future' could offer a new incentive in the form of a positive alternative for which rational individuals within the Russian elite and wider society, who do not support the war, might be willing to take significant personal risks in confronting the regime.