This can be a long process, Putin told loyalists in a rare admission
Nine months after Russia launched its invasion of Ukraine under the banner of a 'special military operation,' Vladimir Putin sat before loyalists and conceded what battlefield realities had long implied: this war may have no near horizon. His admission of a potentially prolonged conflict, paired with a refusal to order new mobilization and a continued assault on civilian infrastructure, reveals a power recalibrating its ambitions without abandoning them — while millions of ordinary people on both sides bear the weight of that recalibration.
- Putin's rare public acknowledgment that the war 'can be a long process' signals a strategic shift from swift conquest to grinding attrition, even as Russia has deployed fewer than half its mobilized reservists to actual combat.
- Russian strikes have now hit Ukraine's power grid with over 1,000 rockets and missiles across eight waves, pushing Kyiv and other cities toward a winter humanitarian catastrophe of darkened homes, frozen pipes, and failing hospitals.
- Ten civilians were killed in Kurakhove on Wednesday alone, and frontline commanders describe relentless shelling and drone surveillance around Bakhmut, where the fighting shows no sign of easing.
- Belarus is moving troops and military hardware under the cover of a 'terrorism threat,' following an unannounced visit by Russia's defense minister to Minsk — raising fears of a new front opening in Ukraine's north.
- Ukraine and its allies are racing to shore up air defenses and energy infrastructure before temperatures plunge to minus 15 Celsius, while Kyiv's mayor warns residents to prepare for possible evacuation without yet ordering one.
On a Wednesday in early December, Vladimir Putin sat before a gathering of loyalists and said something he had carefully avoided for nine months: the war in Ukraine might take a long time. It was a striking departure for a leader who had framed the February invasion as a swift corrective to Ukraine's westward drift. Nine months of significant battlefield retreats had finally found their way into his public language.
The numbers behind that admission were telling. Of the 300,000 reservists mobilized in September and October, only around 150,000 had reached Ukraine, and just 77,000 were in active combat units. Yet Putin ruled out any further mobilization, calling additional measures senseless under current conditions. On nuclear weapons, he struck a careful tone — acknowledging rising risk while insisting Russia would not 'run around the world brandishing this weapon like a razor.' German Chancellor Olaf Scholz, for his part, believed international pressure had actually reduced the likelihood of nuclear use.
On the ground, the human cost continued to accumulate. Ten people were killed by Russian shelling in Kurakhove in eastern Ukraine, and commanders near Bakhmut described unrelenting pressure — constant artillery and drones overhead through the daylight hours. Russia's broader strategy had pivoted toward infrastructure: more than 1,000 rockets and missiles had struck Ukraine's power grid across eight waves of attacks, forcing rolling blackouts across the country including in Kyiv, home to three million people. Mayor Vitali Klitschko warned of an 'apocalypse' if strikes continued into the depths of winter, when temperatures can fall to minus 15 Celsius.
Beyond Ukraine's borders, Belarus was stirring. Russia's defense minister had flown unannounced to Minsk and signed undisclosed amendments to a security cooperation agreement. Belarusian authorities began moving troops, citing a vague terrorism threat. Ukraine reported thousands of Russian soldiers already stationed there since October. Whether Lukashenko — who had kept his army out of the war despite owing his political survival to Moscow — would be drawn further in remained an open and dangerous question.
Putin himself expressed no regrets. He framed the annexation of four partly occupied Ukrainian regions as a 'significant result,' even as the world's majority condemned it as illegal. What he could not answer — and what no one could — was how long Russia could sustain a war of this scale, and what it would cost the civilians, Ukrainian and Russian alike, who had never chosen it.
Vladimir Putin sat down with loyalists in a televised meeting on Wednesday and said something he had rarely said before: the war in Ukraine might take a while. "This can be a long process," he told them. It was a striking admission from a leader who had launched what Russia calls a "special military operation" back in February, claiming Ukraine's deepening ties with the West posed a security threat. Nine months in, with significant battlefield retreats mounting in the east and south, Putin was finally acknowledging publicly what the numbers had been suggesting for weeks.
The scale of Russia's deployment tells part of the story. Putin said that of the 300,000 reservists called up in September and October, only about 150,000 had made it to Ukraine so far. Of those, just 77,000 were actually in combat units. The rest remained in training centers. Yet despite these constraints, Putin ruled out any new mobilization. "Under these conditions, talk about any additional mobilisation measures simply makes no sense," he said. It was a pragmatic calculation: Russia's economy had absorbed the shock of the partial mobilization, though the disinflationary effect it had created was already fading.
On the nuclear question, Putin struck a different tone. He acknowledged that the risk of nuclear war was rising, but insisted Russia would not brandish its weapons recklessly. "We haven't gone mad, we realise what nuclear weapons are," he said. "We have these means in more advanced and modern form than any other nuclear country ... But we aren't about to run around the world brandishing this weapon like a razor." German Chancellor Olaf Scholz, speaking the next day, offered a counterpoint: he believed the risk of Putin actually using nuclear weapons had decreased in response to international pressure.
On the ground, the picture was grimmer. Russian shelling killed ten people in the town of Kurakhove in eastern Ukraine on Wednesday, with many more wounded. Fighting around the nearby town of Bakhmut remained fierce. A Ukrainian unit commander, using the nom de guerre Bandera, described relentless pressure: "All day yesterday, our positions were being shelled, their unmanned aerial vehicles were in the air all day." The enemy, he said, had become very active, launching continuous air intelligence missions.
But Russia's strategy had shifted toward infrastructure. According to the chief executive of Ukrenergo, the grid operator, Russian forces had fired more than 1,000 rockets and missiles at Ukraine's power system. Eight recent waves of air strikes had caused serious damage, forcing emergency and planned outages across the country, including in Kyiv, a city of three million people. Kyiv's Mayor Vitali Klitschko warned of an "apocalypse" scenario if the strikes continued through winter—a season when temperatures can drop to minus 15 Celsius. Without power, running water, or heat, the city faced a humanitarian catastrophe. Klitschko said evacuation was not necessary yet, but residents should be ready.
Meanwhile, Russia appeared to be playing a different card. Belarus, Russia's ally, announced it was moving troops and military hardware to counter what it called a terrorism threat. The timing was suggestive. Russian Defence Minister Sergei Shoigu had flown unannounced to Minsk on Saturday and signed amendments to a security cooperation agreement with his Belarusian counterpart, Viktor Khrenin, without disclosing the new terms. President Alexander Lukashenko, who had relied on Russian troops to suppress a popular uprising two years earlier, had so far kept his own army out of the Ukraine war. But the pressure seemed to be mounting. Ukraine claimed thousands of Russian troops had deployed in Belarus since October, and Belarusian authorities had increasingly spoken of a terrorism threat from partisans operating across the border.
Putin, for his part, insisted he had no regrets. Despite the loss of Kherson, the one Ukrainian provincial capital Russia had captured, he said Russia had achieved a "significant result" with the acquisition of new territories—a reference to the annexation of four partly occupied regions in September, a move Ukraine and most United Nations members had condemned as illegal. The war that had become Europe's most devastating since World War Two was, in his telling, still worth fighting. What remained unclear was how long Russia could sustain it, and at what cost to the civilians caught in its path.
Notable Quotes
This can be a long process— Vladimir Putin, in televised meeting with loyalists
We haven't gone mad, we realise what nuclear weapons are. We have these means in more advanced and modern form than any other nuclear country ... But we aren't about to run around the world brandishing this weapon like a razor.— Vladimir Putin
All day yesterday, our positions were being shelled, their unmanned aerial vehicles were in the air all day.— Ukrainian unit commander using nom de guerre Bandera
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
When Putin says the war could be a long process, what does he actually mean by that?
He's acknowledging reality. Nine months in, with only half his mobilized troops deployed and significant losses, he can't pretend this ends in weeks. He's signaling to his own people that this is a marathon, not a sprint.
But he rules out new mobilization. Doesn't that contradict the idea of a long war?
Not really. He's saying he has enough bodies in the pipeline already—150,000 still in training. Calling up more would be politically costly at home. Better to stretch what he has and hope attrition favors him.
What about the nuclear rhetoric? Is that a bluff?
Probably. He's walking a line—reminding the West he has the weapons while insisting he's not crazy enough to use them. It's theater, but it's also a warning. The fact that Scholz thinks the risk has decreased suggests the West isn't buying the threat anymore.
The power grid attacks seem like a different kind of war.
Exactly. When you can't win on the battlefield, you attack what civilians depend on. A winter without heat in Kyiv is a weapon. It's trying to break the will of the population, not the army.
And Belarus—is that a new front?
That's the question everyone's watching. Lukashenko has stayed out so far, but Shoigu's secret visit and these troop movements suggest Moscow is pushing. If Belarus opens a new front, it changes everything for Ukraine.
So what's Putin actually betting on?
Time and suffering. He thinks the West will tire of supporting Ukraine, that Ukrainians will break under winter conditions, and that he can hold on long enough to claim victory. It's a gamble, but it's the only one he has left.