A Strategic Look at the Russo-Ukrainian War
Soon going into its fourth year since the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, the Russo-Ukrainian war did not begin in 2022. Its roots lie in 2014, with the Ukrainian Maidan revolution and the illegal Russian annexation of Crimea. What followed has become one of the defining conflicts of this decade, with lasting consequences for European security, global strategy, and the nature of modern warfare.
This article aims to dissect the conflict from a strategic perspective. It explores its origins, the evolution of the war, the key battles that shaped it, the impact on Western actors, and the lessons that can be drawn. It closes with a personal remark.
The Root Of The Conflict
The Maidan Revolution acted as a trigger in what was already a volatile situation. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Ukraine gained independence but remained economically, culturally, and structurally intertwined with Russia. For decades, Ukrainian politics oscillated between pro-Western and pro-Russian orientations, reflecting internal divisions rather than a linear national trajectory.
By the early 2010s, however, Ukraine was increasingly drifting toward Western political and economic structures, particularly the European Union. This shift was not only the result of external influence but also of internal dynamics: generational change, frustration with corruption, and a growing sense of Ukrainian national identity distinct from Russia. These trends accelerated after 2014, when Russia’s actions themselves reshaped Ukrainian public opinion in lasting ways.
From Moscow’s perspective, Ukraine occupies a central strategic position. It is a large neighboring state, a transit corridor for energy infrastructure, a gateway to the Black Sea, and historically a buffer between Russia and NATO. While Ukrainian EU membership would not, by itself, pose a military threat, it would weaken Russian leverage economically and politically, and further integrate Ukraine into Western institutions that Moscow does not control.
In 2014, the collapse of Viktor Yanukovych’s pro-Russian government and the election of Petro Poroshenko marked a decisive break. The new leadership pursued closer ties with Europe, promoted cultural and religious independence, reoriented economic policy, and began reforming the armed forces. These moves were reinforced after the election of Volodymyr Zelenskyy, whose presidency combined a strong pro-Western stance with anti-corruption efforts and attempts to weaken entrenched oligarchic power.
For Russia, this meant the loss of direct political influence over a strategically critical neighbor. Crimea became the immediate priority. Its annexation was not merely emotional or historical, but strategic: securing naval basing, ensuring access to the Black Sea, and preventing the possibility, however distant at the time, of NATO gaining influence over a vital maritime space. While not the only possible course of action, Crimea was clearly a high-value objective for Moscow once Ukraine slipped out of its political orbit.
Following Crimea, Russia sought to retain leverage through indirect means. Support for separatist movements in Donbas was intended to destabilize Ukraine, constrain its Western integration, and create bargaining chips for future negotiations, all while avoiding direct large-scale war. This approach aimed to freeze Ukraine’s trajectory rather than reverse it outright.
That strategy ultimately failed. Between 2014 and 2022, Ukraine did not collapse or drift back toward Moscow. Instead, it consolidated its national identity, reformed and expanded its armed forces, deepened cooperation with NATO, and gained real combat experience in the Donbas. Public support for NATO membership increased significantly, particularly after 2014, making Ukraine’s geopolitical orientation increasingly resilient to political change.
This does not mean that a full-scale war was inevitable. Diplomatic alternatives existed, and different strategic choices could have prolonged a frozen conflict. However, when Russian strategic concerns are paired with Ukraine’s legitimate sovereignty and increasingly irreversible Western alignment, escalation became more likely as diplomatic efforts repeatedly failed to produce outcomes acceptable to both sides.
The Invasion of Ukraine
In February 2022, Russia launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine, a decision that radically escalated the conflict and reshaped European security. The operation was widely assessed as being based on flawed assumptions. Russian leadership appeared to expect a rapid collapse of Ukrainian resistance, limited Western reaction, and the possibility of forcing political change in Kyiv without a prolonged war.
Ukraine proved these assumptions wrong. Ukrainian forces resisted effectively, defended key cities, and preserved command and control. Western sanctions were broader and more severe than those imposed in 2014, and military assistance expanded rapidly. At the same time, the invasion exposed deep structural weaknesses in the Russian armed forces, from logistics and coordination to training and morale.
The first year of the war was defined by maneuver, shock, and adaptation. Ukraine successfully disrupted Russia’s multi-axis offensive, particularly in the north, while benefiting from high morale, strong leadership, and rapid Western support. Zelenskyy’s decision to remain in Kyiv became strategically significant, reinforcing domestic resistance and international backing. Evidence of Russian war crimes further hardened Ukrainian resolve and Western political support.
Russia, for its part, adapted. After failing to achieve its initial objectives, it regrouped, abandoned ambitions in northern Ukraine, and concentrated forces in the east and south. By mid-2022, Moscow shifted toward a war of attrition, leveraging manpower, artillery, and depth to grind down Ukrainian forces over time.
The second year of the conflict marked the transition to a more industrial and positional war. Large-scale maneuver gave way to artillery duels, fortified lines, and long-range strikes. Ukraine’s counteroffensives demonstrated tactical skill but struggled against layered defenses, minefields, and Russian firepower. Casualties mounted on both sides, and progress became incremental rather than decisive.
As Western military aid slowed and political debates intensified, Russia began to regain a limited battlefield advantage. Increased domestic arms production, improved tactics, and Ukraine’s ammunition shortages allowed for slow but steady Russian advances. Infrastructure strikes intensified, and the war increasingly targeted economic resilience and civilian morale rather than territory alone.
With political shifts in the United States adding uncertainty to long-term support, Ukraine was forced to invest more heavily in diplomacy while sustaining a defensive military posture. Front lines remained largely static, with localized Russian gains at high cost. Negotiations continued without decisive breakthroughs. The war settled into a stalemate defined by attrition, endurance, and the question of which side could sustain pressure longer, economically, demographically, and politically.
Key Battles
Battle of Kyiv (Feb–Apr 2022)
Why it mattered:
- Russia’s attempt at a rapid decapitation of Ukrainian leadership
- A successful seizure of Kyiv could have ended the war early
Outcome:
- Ukrainian victory
- Russian withdrawal from northern Ukraine
Impact:
- Destroyed Russia’s original operational plan
- Demonstrated Ukrainian resilience and state survival
Battle of Mariupol (Mar–May 2022)
Why it mattered:
- Strategic port city linking Russian-controlled territory to Crimea
- Major symbolic and humanitarian battle
Outcome:
- Russian victory
- City devastated; defenders surrendered at Azovstal
Impact:
- Secured Russia’s southern land corridor
- Heavy civilian casualties and reputational damage for Russia
Kharkiv Counteroffensive (Sept 2022)
Why it mattered:
- First major Ukrainian operational maneuver success
- Exposed weaknesses in Russian front-line defenses
Outcome:
- Ukrainian victory
- Rapid liberation of large territory
Impact:
- Forced Russian emergency mobilization
- Shifted momentum temporarily in Ukraine’s favor
Liberation of Kherson (Nov 2022)
Why it mattered:
- Only regional capital captured by Russia
- West bank of the Dnipro was logistically vulnerable
Outcome:
- Ukrainian victory
- Russian withdrawal to the east bank
Impact:
- Significant morale boost for Ukraine
- Demonstrated that Russian forces could be compelled to retreat
Battle of Bakhmut (2022–May 2023)
Why it mattered:
- Limited strategic value but high symbolic importance
- Became the focal point of attritional warfare
Outcome:
- Russian victory
- City captured after prolonged fighting
Impact:
- Extremely high casualties on both sides
- Marked the transition to industrial-scale attrition
Battle of Avdiivka (2023–Feb 2024)
Why it mattered:
- Ukrainian stronghold threatening Donetsk
- Politically important objective for Moscow
Outcome:
- Russian victory
- Ukrainian withdrawal to avoid encirclement
Impact:
- Demonstrated improved Russian coordination and firepower
- Reinforced Russia’s incremental battlefield momentum
Western Impact
United States
Prior to the 2022 invasion, the United States was Ukraine’s most important external supporter, providing training, intelligence cooperation, and defensive weaponry. However, it did not extend security guarantees or commit forces at a level that would constitute deterrence. This was not a legal failure. Ukraine is not a NATO member, and the Budapest Memorandum of 1994 did not obligate military intervention, only respect for sovereignty and consultation.
After the invasion, U.S. support expanded significantly, particularly in weapons, intelligence, and training. While the financial figures appear large, much of the spending flowed back into U.S. defense industries, revitalizing production lines and replenishing stockpiles. The war exposed weaknesses in the U.S. defense industrial base, particularly its limited readiness for sustained high-intensity conflict, prompting reassessments of production capacity and procurement timelines.
Strategically, the conflict reinforced U.S. leadership within NATO. Alliance cohesion exceeded expectations, defense spending increased, and NATO expanded with the inclusion of Finland and Sweden. The United States paid a relatively limited direct economic cost, especially compared to Europe, while strengthening its strategic position among allies.
Europe (EU + Major States)
Europe entered the conflict structurally unprepared. Years of assuming that economic interdependence would prevent war left European states energy-dependent, militarily under-resourced, and reliant on the U.S. for intelligence and logistics. Diplomatic mechanisms proved insufficient to deter conflict on the continent.
Once war broke out, Europe responded with political unity, sanctions, refugee absorption, and long-term support for Ukraine. Yet practical limitations quickly emerged. Ammunition stocks depleted rapidly, air defense systems were scarce, and delivery timelines lagged behind commitments. European support was substantial, but often slower and less decisive than promised.
The economic impact was severe. The loss of Russian energy drove price spikes, inflation, and reduced industrial competitiveness. Europe adapted by diversifying energy sources, expanding renewables, and prioritizing efficiency, but energy costs remain structurally higher. This trade-off increased resilience but reduced competitiveness in energy-intensive sectors.
Europe acted in line with its values, but the war exposed strategic weaknesses. Dependence on the U.S. became undeniable, and Europe’s ability to act as an autonomous geopolitical power was called into question.
NATO
The war effectively redefined NATO. Prior to 2022, the alliance faced questions about relevance, burden-sharing, and cohesion. European members underinvested in defense, and NATO relied heavily on U.S. capabilities.
Russia’s invasion revived NATO’s core mission: collective defense against territorial aggression. Alliance unity strengthened, new members joined, and defense plans were overhauled. Finland’s accession alone doubled NATO’s direct border with Russia, turning the Baltic Sea into a predominantly NATO-controlled space. Strategically, this was a net loss for Russia.
Defense spending rose sharply, forward deployments expanded, and readiness levels increased. At the same time, the war exposed NATO’s industrial limitations. Stockpiles were insufficient for prolonged high-intensity conflict, and production capacity lagged behind consumption. Despite discussions of European autonomy, the U.S. remains indispensable, providing strategic enablers, nuclear deterrence, and operational backbone.
NATO today is larger, more unified, and more focused on deterrence. It is also under greater pressure, facing long-term confrontation with Russia and the need to prepare for multiple potential theaters.
Lessons Learned
Modern wars between states are long by default
Expectations of short, decisive conflicts no longer match reality. Industrial capacity, manpower replacement, logistics, and political endurance now determine outcomes more than speed or initial success. States that cannot sustain years of conflict are strategically exposed from the start.
Deterrence without firm commitment is unstable
Ukraine existed in a strategic gray zone: politically aligned with the West but without binding security guarantees. This ambiguity reduced deterrence rather than strengthening it, increasing the likelihood of escalation. Partial guarantees create vulnerability, not stability.
Scale still matters more than technology alone
Precision weapons and advanced systems improved efficiency but did not replace mass. Artillery production, ammunition stockpiles, manpower pools, and industrial depth proved decisive. States without scale must either avoid prolonged wars or achieve rapid outcomes.
Time functions as a strategic weapon
In prolonged conflicts, time favors actors capable of absorbing losses, isolation, and stagnation. Democracies face political cycles, alliance fatigue, and shifting priorities, while more centralized systems can sustain pressure longer even at high cost.
Maneuver warfare collapses quickly against prepared defenses
Initial maneuver phases gave way to positional warfare once minefields, drones, layered fires, and surveillance saturated the battlefield. Breakthroughs became costly and shallow. Movement without overwhelming superiority proved lethal.
Air superiority is no longer absolute
Neither side achieved full control of the air. Dense air defenses forced aircraft into stand-off roles, limiting close support and freedom of action. Air power shaped battles indirectly rather than decisively, favoring denial over dominance.
Logistics determine operational success faster than firepower
Many offensives stalled due to ammunition shortages, fuel constraints, maintenance failures, and inadequate recovery systems. Targeting logistics often produced greater operational effects than destroying frontline units.
Drones have become central to modern warfare
Unmanned systems normalized continuous surveillance, rapid targeting, and low-cost precision strikes. Drones did not replace artillery or armor but made them more lethal and responsive. Armies without mass drone integration are structurally outdated.
Defense currently holds the advantage
Layered defensive systems supported by ISR and fires imposed extreme costs on attackers. Offensive operations required disproportionate resources and suffered high attrition for limited territorial gains. Defense proved cheaper and more sustainable.
Organizational learning outweighs equipment quality
Success correlated more with adaptation speed than platform superiority. Forces that adjusted tactics, integrated feedback, and learned under pressure performed better than those relying on numerical or technical advantages alone.
Civilian morale and leadership visibility are strategic assets
Neither side collapsed internally despite prolonged pressure. Information control, narrative coherence, and visible political leadership sustained domestic support. Internal cohesion proved as critical as battlefield performance.
Sanctions reshape wars but rarely stop them
Economic sanctions imposed real costs but did not produce rapid political collapse. Instead, they altered economic structures, supply chains, and long-term sustainability. Sanctions function as pressure tools, not decisive weapons.
International norms restrain behavior only when backed by power
Legal frameworks and institutions failed to prevent escalation. Strategic calculations based on power, geography, and survival overrode normative constraints. Rules matter most when enforcement is credible.
A Clausewitzian War, With Sun Tzu’s Warnings
Viewed through a classical strategic lens, the Russo-Ukrainian war aligns closely with ideas that are far from new. Many of its most defining characteristics echo principles articulated long before modern weapons, suggesting that while the tools of war evolve, its underlying logic changes far more slowly.
Clausewitz’s view of war as a continuation of politics by other means is particularly relevant. The conflict did not emerge in isolation, nor did it escape political logic once it began. Russia’s invasion followed years of unresolved political tension, failed diplomacy, and competing security visions. Military action became a substitute for political leverage that Moscow believed it was losing. Once the war started, political factors continued to shape its conduct: alliance cohesion, domestic legitimacy, economic endurance, and external support proved as decisive as battlefield success.
The war also reflects Clausewitz’s emphasis on friction, uncertainty, and the strength of the defensive. Russia’s early failures were not simply the result of poor tactics, but of misjudgment, logistical breakdowns, and the collapse of assumptions under real conditions. As the conflict progressed, it increasingly favored defense and attrition, confirming Clausewitz’s view that defense is the stronger form of war and that decisive outcomes are often elusive when political objectives are limited or incompatible.
At the same time, many of the war’s early miscalculations echo Sun Tzu’s warnings. Russia appeared to misjudge both its opponent and itself, overestimating its ability to impose political outcomes quickly while underestimating Ukrainian resistance and Western reaction. The failure to achieve objectives through indirect means, such as political pressure, intimidation, or rapid coercion, forced a transition into a prolonged and costly war that Sun Tzu explicitly cautioned against.
Where Sun Tzu emphasizes winning without fighting, the Russo-Ukrainian war demonstrates what happens when that path fails. Once large-scale force was committed, the conflict moved into a form of warfare closer to Clausewitz’s world: one defined by endurance, material strength, and the gradual erosion of political will rather than decisive maneuvers.
Taken together, these perspectives help explain both why the war began as it did and why it continues in its current form. Sun Tzu helps illuminate the strategic failures that led to escalation, while Clausewitz explains the grinding, attritional reality that followed. Far from being outdated, both remain relevant precisely because this war has stripped away many modern assumptions and revealed the enduring foundations of strategy.
Personal Remark
To me, the Russo-Ukrainian war represents one of the biggest diplomatic failures of the European Union, and one of the clearest demonstrations of the limits and contradictions of realpolitik. Russia is undeniably the aggressor in this war. The invasion of Ukraine was not random, but it was still a choice, and one that violated Ukrainian sovereignty and international norms. War should never be justifiable, and diplomacy should never fail, even though history repeatedly reminds us that it often does.
For years, Europe operated under the assumption that large-scale war on its borders was unlikely. This assumption proved irresponsible. Building deep economic and infrastructural dependencies with states that do not share your political values or strategic principles may deliver short-term economic benefits, but it creates long-term strategic debt. In Europe’s case, that debt was energy dependence on Russia, and it eventually came due. The war exposed not only Europe’s military unpreparedness, but also its limited geopolitical influence, rooted in the persistent gap between declared values and available power.
This contradiction became even more uncomfortable after the war began. It remains deeply troubling that, for a significant period after the invasion, European states collectively spent more money purchasing Russian energy than they did supporting Ukraine. While condemning the aggression and sanctioning Moscow, Europe continued to finance the very state it sought to isolate. As a European, this reality is difficult to reconcile with the principles we claim to defend, and it is one of the reasons I am particularly critical of Europe’s role in this conflict.
The responsibility does not lie with Europe alone. European countries, alongside the United States, encouraged Ukraine’s westward orientation and European integration without providing firm membership pathways, binding security guarantees, or credible deterrence. Ukraine was politically supported but strategically exposed. Legal caution, risk aversion, and respect for procedural norms delayed decisions that may have been crucial to preventing escalation or limiting the scale of the war once it began.
None of this diminishes Russia’s role as the aggressor, nor does it suggest moral equivalence. Rather, it reflects the uncomfortable reality that wars rarely emerge from a single cause or a single failure. They are often the result of accumulated decisions, misjudgments, and unresolved contradictions on multiple sides.
As an advocate for freedom and liberty, I stand with Ukraine in its pursuit of independence, sovereignty, and self-determination, free from external coercion. Ukraine, as a sovereign nation, should be allowed to decide its future as it sees fit, whether that means moving toward the West, the East, neutrality, or another path entirely, if that is what its people choose. My hope is that, in the end, the Ukrainian people will be able to exercise their democracy and decide for themselves the course they wish to see for their nation.