This was published 1 year ago
Opinion
Putin’s enemies don’t die of natural causes, but good riddance to the monster Prigozhin
Mick Ryan
Military leader and strategistOne of the most predictable elements of war is surprise. Since the large-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine in February last year, there have been myriad surprises. From Russia’s defeat in its Kyiv campaign, the Ukrainian Kharkiv offensive, and attacks on the Kerch Bridge and Moscow, surprise has been a constant in this conflict.
Perhaps one of the most profound surprises, at least for Russian politics, was the Prigozhin mutiny of June this year. Yevgeny Prigozhin, leader of the private military company the Wagner Group, led a short but high-profile insurrection that saw his troops advance to within 300 kilometres of Moscow. The main casualties of the day were from the Russian Air Force, which lost multiple helicopters and other aircraft. More than 30 airmen were killed.
This is tragic, yet all the more ironic given events of the past hours. Travelling in his private jet, Prigozhin was shot down over Russia. All aboard the aircraft, including Prigozhin and the Wagner chief of operations Dmitry Uktin, were killed.
The crash has set off another round of guessing among pundits and Russia experts about who is to blame and what might be the impacts of Prigozhin’s spectacular death. But ultimately, the cause of the crash is irrelevant. Most will assume Putin is to blame, and he has most to gain from the death of Prigozhin and his most senior confederates. Putin’s enemies rarely die of natural causes. Normally poison, windows or planes are involved.
The June mutiny highlighted the brittleness of the weak and incapable Russian institutions of state. Before the mutiny, Prigozhin had also ridiculed Putin’s justification for the war.
After the mutiny, Putin made several television appearances in which he denounced those who participated as “traitors” while heralding the courageous Russian soldiers and airmen who resisted the mutiny as it moved towards the Russian capital. So Prigozhin alive was a reminder to Putin, and the Russian people, of the mutiny. Leaving him alive in the long term was never an option for Putin.
Removing Prigozhin from the scene has other benefits for Putin, besides removing a potential coup leader. It sends a clear message about the costs of disloyalty. In the centrally controlled Russian polity, this is a message that will be lost on no one.
It also sends a clear message to Western governments that they shouldn’t be hoping for a change in Russian leadership anytime soon. Putin remains in charge for the foreseeable future and appears determined to see this war through to the bitter end.
Prigozhin’s death also finalises any argument about control of the Russian military by Defence Minister Sergei Shoigu and chief of the general staff Valery Gerasimov. These two, who have been ridiculed on Russian social media for their performance during the war in Ukraine, were central targets of Prigozhin’s commentary before and during his mutiny.
Prigozhin’s death ensures there will be no more dissent (if any remained) about Shoigu’s mid-2022 directive to bring Russian private military companies under military control. Shoigu and Gerasimov have removed a key critic of their performance from the board.
Alas, Prigozhin’s death is unlikely to have a significant impact on the war in Ukraine. All of his mercenaries were removed from the theatre in June this year. And while they were some of the best shock troops available to the Russian Army, the Russians have moved on without them. There has been a mini-purge of Russian officers who were suspected of being too close to Prigozhin, such as General Sergei Surovikin. But these officers are replaceable.
In the end, few will shed tears for Prigozhin. He was a brutal monster who thought nothing of having his own soldiers murdered by sledgehammer, or having them sent in human waves to die on the battlefield. That his death came at the hands of another monster, Vladimir Putin, says much about the state of Russia and its leadership. Less a nation state than a land ruled by nuclear-armed mobsters, contemporary Russia is as brutal towards its own citizens as it is towards its Ukrainian neighbours.
The death of Prigozhin comes on Ukraine’s 32nd anniversary of independence. It will provide only a small measure of satisfaction for the people of Ukraine. As Ukrainian families sit down to dinner and celebrate their independence, Prigozhin is unlikely to be on their minds. Instead, many will look across at the vacant seats at their tables caused by the Russian invasion and the sacrifice of their sons and daughters, husbands and wives, friends and family in the defence of their homeland.
Prigozhin leaves nothing but a legacy of hideous cruelty, cynical treachery and exploiting his fellow citizens. Good riddance to him and all monsters of his kind.
Mick Ryan is a retired major general who served in the ADF for more than 35 years and was commander of the Australia Defence College. He is the author of War Transformed and an adjunct fellow at the Centre for Strategic and International Studies in Washington, DC.
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