The Russian Way of Deterrence: Strategic Culture, Coercion and War
220 pages
Prof Andrew Lambert
Kings College, London
How does Russia think about war? This is the great conundrum facing Western analysis of Russian behaviour across the build-up and conduct of the current conflict in Ukraine. Perhaps the most important argument of this critical and timely book, for practitioners and students of contemporary Russian approaches to war, strategy and deterrence, is that Putin’s Russia is very good at identifying and targeting Western strategic anxieties. However, deterrent signalling based on manipulating reality and deception signally failed in 2022, leaving the West confused, unable to grasp the meaning of words or deeds. Information warfare, including Maskirovka, active measures intended to mislead the enemy, proved too successful: the message was lost in transmission. Not only did Russia fail to deter NATO support for Ukraine, which it represents as Western encirclement, but the subsequent invasion and terror campaigns actively promoted NATO expansion –the outcome Moscow wished to prevent. Furthermore, Russia had not prepared its’ army for the war it threatened. This failure was recognised outside Russia, explaining the ad hoc development of plans, and the return to crude, old methods of war.
Russian plans envisaged paralysing NATO and defeating Ukraine, but the nuclear threat did not work, because it was not credible, while the conventional attack failed because the forces were incapable, and the plans appear to have been compromised. It might be added that Russia has a long history of unimpressive attempts to deter. In the 18th and 19thcenturies it could not counter British maritime-economic threats: nor could it deter overt, looming land-based threats from Napoleon and Hitler.
Critically while it might be assumed deterrence has a universal meaning, in reality the word divides. Russian deterrence focuses on preventing unwelcome outcomes, and is not necessarily logical; China concentrates on intimidation, while the Anglo-American tradition combines terror and punishment in a logical concept, while France stresses dissuasion. Constant Russian references to nuclear weapons, and the use of nuclear delivery systems for conventional munitions in the current conflict, ended the distinctive character of nuclear deterrence that had provided a key element of stability throughout the Cold War. In the absence of a ‘just war’ tradition the role of the Orthodox Church as a client and cheer leader for the regime has shifted Russian agendas towards a veneration of nuclear weapons. Not only is deterrence a cultural construct, but Russia has always seen itself as existing outside the western cultural world – a point Putin is at pains to stress. For Russia war remains the same essentially continuous process that it was throughout the Cold War.
Russian attempts to coerce NATO and Ukraine before the attack failed, because they were not credible, a public failure that left Putin with few options. The war has not delivered the intended outcomes, because the intention was to secure victory through coercive threat. Russian armed forces were not prepared for a serious conflict, struggling to adapt to events on the ground, and at sea.
This text will be critical for anyone grappling with the current and future implications of Russian coercion and belligerence. Adamsky, an expert on the development of Russian strategic culture, nuclear weapons policy and military innovation, explains how Russia evolved its current approach to coercion in the aftermath of the collapse of the Soviet Union, and what it means for the future. Russian political and military leaders assumed the West understood their concerns, and took in their signals. The 2022 failure reflected a failure of communication between political and military leaderships, not dissimilar to that of 1941, when Stalin wilfully rejected intelligence and assessments that contradicted his desperate self-delusion that Hitler would not invade. A purged army leadership could not resist. Fundamentally flawed civil-military relations have persisted in a totalitarian state with irresponsible leadership – as a defining feature of Russian war-making for centuries. It appears anxiety to ‘prevent’ Ukraine moving into the Western camp, following the failed 2021 ‘colour’ revolution in Minsk, left little time for planning, or effective signalling.
Adamsky urges us to pay more attention to the cultural dimension of deterrence – a task that will be informed by increased understanding of how and why Russia failed to deter in 2022. The failure was intellectual and conceptual, threatening nuclear war was not a coherent response to the clearly expressed will of the Ukrainian people to self-determination and membership of the EU. It lacked credibility, especially when the conventional order of battle was inadequate for the task.
This book should be read and understood by those tasked with assessing the aims, intentions and methods of every potentially hostile regime. Do we understand how they think, and what they want? Or are we still mirror-imaging our own ideas onto those who do not share our culture, values or experience?
