Putin Enters New Political Term With No Exit Strategy in Ukraine as Kremlin Signals Escalation Against Europe

When Vladimir Putin addressed Russia's parliament on Wednesday, he could count on a friendly reception. Last month's legislative election—described by one Russian newspaper as a "Special Election Operation"—produced a State Duma more loyal to the president than any that came before it. The ruling United Russia party now holds more seats than at any point in its history, handing the Kremlin a convenient claim: that the Russian people have delivered a sweeping mandate to their leader.

The more pressing question is what Putin intends to do with that mandate. Is there any indication he is ready to wind down what he still calls the "special military operation"? Or should the world prepare for a further escalation of the war in Ukraine and of Russia's confrontation with Europe?

On Thursday, Putin is scheduled to appear at the Valdai Discussion Club in Moscow, an annual foreign policy forum where his speeches have traditionally offered a window into his thinking. Observers will be watching closely for clues about where he plans to take the country next.

For now, every available signal points in one direction: the full-scale invasion of Ukraine will continue, despite the enormous casualties Russian forces have suffered and the mounting strain on Russia's economy. Putin's public statements suggest he remains convinced that Russia can achieve a military victory.

Russian media coverage suggests Moscow is taking encouragement from Ukraine's shortage of air defence missiles. The expectation in the Kremlin appears to be that a winter of intensified Russian strikes will ratchet up pressure on the Ukrainian population. Kyiv has openly acknowledged the difficulty of intercepting Russia's ballistic missiles and its new jet-powered drones, which now target Ukrainian territory on a daily basis.

The Kremlin has also made no secret of its desire to see European governments cut their military and financial support for Ukraine. Moscow frames that assistance as the factor prolonging the conflict—or, put another way, as the main obstacle standing between Russia and victory.

Western officials believe Russia has been sending deliberate and increasingly overt signals to that end. They accuse Moscow of conducting an escalating hybrid campaign against European countries, citing cyber-attacks, acts of sabotage and Russian drones entering European airspace. One notable incident involved a drone carrying an explosive device found near Ukrainian cargo planes at Leipzig airport in Germany. Such operations are often described as taking place in the "grey zone"—the murky space between peace and war.

This week, the BBC asked Russia's foreign minister, Sergei Lavrov, whether he would acknowledge that his country is waging a hybrid war against European states. Lavrov deflected the question, asking whether the interviewer meant the occasions when Russia destroys drones and missiles supplied to Ukraine by Britain and continental Europe and used to attack Russia. "If you admit your weapons are being used to strike us and we destroy them, call it whatever you want," he said. "But I have no doubt this is a war Europe is waging against us. We've been saying so for a long time."

That has in fact been the official Russian position for some time: that the conflict in Ukraine amounts to a European war against Russia. It is a narrative that omits a central fact—that in 2022 it was the Kremlin that launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine, and that Russia continues to wage war there.

The open question is how far Moscow might go to sever European support for Kyiv. Is Russia, for instance, actively preparing to trigger a military conflict with a NATO member state? Most analysts consider that unlikely. After more than four and a half years of war, Russia's army has still not managed to occupy the whole of Ukraine's eastern Donbas region, which lies directly next to Russia itself.

Fighting Europe may not be the plan, but frightening it—with the aim of reducing support for Kyiv—could well be the intention. The messaging emanating from Moscow certainly supports that reading. Sergei Karaganov, a prominent foreign policy strategist and honorary chairman of Russia's Council for Foreign and Defence Policy, issued a stark warning. "If they continue this war, a European war with American help, against Russia, on Ukrainian territory, sooner or later we'll feel the need to escalate," he said.

Karaganov went further, outlining a scenario in which the first wave of strikes would be conventional, but warning that if Europe did not back down, Russia would "have to go nuclear." In his words, "there will be little left of some European countries." When it was put to him that a nuclear strike would provoke a response from Europe and leave nothing of Russia, Karaganov dismissed the idea outright, saying there would be no European response. He questioned whether Britain would attack Russia with nuclear weapons, adding that he hoped no one was "that crazy," and expressing confidence that the Americans were not either.

Karaganov's remarks reflect a strand of thinking in Moscow that treats nuclear rhetoric as a tool of pressure rather than a literal battle plan. Even so, his willingness to voice such threats publicly illustrates how far the Kremlin's information campaign against Europe has travelled. For European capitals, the challenge is twofold: maintaining support for Ukraine in the face of deliberate intimidation, and preparing for a range of hostile actions that fall short of open war but are designed to destabilise.

As Putin prepares to speak at Valdai, the coming days may clarify whether the Russian leader sees his expanded parliamentary majority as a mandate for negotiation or for further confrontation. Based on the evidence so far—the battlefield posture, the strikes on Ukrainian cities, and the escalating rhetoric aimed at Europe—there is little to suggest he is looking for a way out. The war, in Moscow's telling, is not Russia's alone to stop.