Vladimir Putin’s lesson from Syria is that bombing works
After the 2015-16 Russian bombing of Syria, commanders barely paused to brush the sand off their boots before lecturing the next generation at staff college. Chechnya, the use of speed and deception in the annexation of Crimea in 2014, the drone destruction of Russian-built tanks in last year’s Armenian-Azeri border war: all these were analysed in real time.
That’s what gives Moscow the edge in its showdown with Ukraine. It is the ability of the military to present creative, if brutal, solutions to the Kremlin, rather than Vladimir Putin’s overrated rat-like cunning, that gives Russia an advantage.
Western assumptions are that Putin must either cut a deal and then slowly withdraw his troops from around the peripheries of Ukraine, escalate by snatching territory in the hope of a better deal, or mount a full-scale invasion and turn his army into an occupation force. So far western strategy is to find ways of raising the costs of the third choice by sending antitank weapons and tank-busting drones to the Ukrainians, erecting a wall of new sanctions and raising the prospect of supporting a popular anti-Russian resistance.
But until now I didn’t have the impression from military experts that the all-out invasion was going to happen. Russian forces were stretched out like overextended chewing gum around the very long borders of Ukraine. Nor was the army prepared for an all-out occupation. Besides, Russians have shown themselves to be clumsy occupiers in Afghanistan and eastern Europe: Russian troops abroad don’t do “hearts and minds”.
I was an invasion-sceptic, especially when trans-Russian troop movements seemed to slow down in late December. Russia didn’t seem to be building a critical mass. Even a smaller scale expeditionary force from the Belarus border to Kiev would probably be a step too far. On paper at least, the active Ukrainian army was 255,000, reserves 900,000. Kiev was well defended. And one lesson of the Chechnya campaigns was how quickly and quietly domestic opposition to war could stir when the zinc coffins returned to Russian villages.
Today, I’m not so sure. There are clear signs of an army cranking up for action. “This has less the look of a posture to be maintained over a long period,” says Michael Kofman, Russian military expert at the CNA think tank, “and more of a build-up to something.” Logistics units, tank repair workshops, mobile medical units, blood supplies: all these have been appearing since the end of the Orthodox Christmas.
Reserves have been called up in the southern military district that borders Ukraine. Wagner and other private military contractors have been hiring veterans for guard duties so that active units can be moved forward.
The Russian defence ministry has reminded parents of conscripts that their sons are not allowed to use their phones while on deployment – so expect radio silence – but also, in a lame attempt at reassurance, stressed that conscripts don’t get sent to combat zones. Limiting home contact was a lesson learnt from the Chechnya wars.
Mud clearance machinery and bridge-building kit has also been arriving on the Ukrainian border, perhaps to demonstrate that a Russian attack need not be limited by the weather. These are routine ways of predicting an invasion. If it happens, say invasionologists, it could come between February 20 and 22. That’s just after the end of Beijing’s Winter Olympics and marks the formal completion of the officially declared joint exercises between Russia and Belarus. If Russian troops stick around after that date, then it might be time for Ukrainians to invest in steel helmets (the sum total of German military aid so far).
But the big lesson from Russia’s engagement in Syria is the speed and the destructiveness of precision bombing. There are 52 Iskander short-range ballistic missile launchers around Ukraine’s borders whose target list probably includes fuel depots, air fields and air defences. The Russian air force has been practising for months. The Black Sea fleet has also been engaged in some target practice.
In Russia’s bombing campaign against Bashar al-Assad’s enemies, it flattened what it claimed were nests of Islamic State terrorists and ensured the political survival of its client dictator with minimal Russian casualties. Although the West was outraged by the destruction of hospitals, Russia came to believe in the decisive power of stand-off, cross-border air attack.
Hundreds of senior Russian officers won their spurs in Syria. Little wonder if some of them are coming round to seeing a combination of cyberattack and distant rocket fire as a way of taming Ukraine and bringing a quick political resolution. More Desert Storm than Ukraine 2014.
Could it be that the troop build-up is just an expensive diversion, part perhaps of a plan B should a bombardment of east European cities cause more public outrage than the Russian bombing of Aleppo? Putin thought he had pulled off a masterstroke in Syria and was proud of bringing Crimea back into the Russian fold. It certainly won him the admiration of his generals. But the top brass is not going to thank him if Russia ends up in a long, bloody occupation.
Roger Boyes is Diplomatic Editor of The Times
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