London: When I lived in Moscow at the moment in time when the Soviet Union collapsed around me, I witnessed a nation in despair. The shops were empty and the currency was in freefall.
In the three years between 1991 and 1994, the rouble fell from 3 to the dollar to more than 4,000, and with their savings rapidly vanishing, desperate people were selling whatever they had in order to get some cash to keep their families alive. Emerging from a metro station, it was sometimes difficult to push through the crowds of people begging me to buy whatever they could find to sell, especially as they had spotted a foreigner who might have some dollars in his pocket.
Sometimes I think back to those days whenever I try to puzzle out why Vladimir Putin has so much support for a war which he started more than three years ago on a neighbouring country. There is little doubt that Putin is using the war to reverse the humiliation of the Soviet Union’s collapse and reassert Moscow’s influence in the region. But it is much more than that.
Take a look at the data on Russian opinion compiled by the respected global data platform, Statista. In May this year, it reported that around 80 percent of Russians “certainly or somewhat supported Russia’s military actions in Ukraine.” Breaking the figures down, Putin’s war has over 80 percent support among those aged 55+ and around 66 percent support among 18–24 year-olds. An earlier survey published by the Chicago Council on Global Affairs in January found that 78 percent of respondents favoured continuing military action in Ukraine, with about 76 percent believing that Russia will emerge victorious.
These are impressive numbers, but can you trust any polling coming out of Russia? After all, Vladimir Putin has created a totalitarian state in which any form of criticism is severely punished. In Russia, if a stranger comes to your door and asks you questions about the “special military operation,” you would be wise to be extremely careful how to answer. Far safer to praise the Kremlin.
Polling under authoritarian conditions is therefore fraught with problems, and fear of expressing dissent could mean that “support” may reflect socially conditioned responses more than genuine sentiment. The question of why so many Russians may support, or appear to want, the war in Ukraine to continue is therefore complex and influenced by a mix of state propaganda, nationalism, fear, misinformation, and extremely limited political freedom.
The all-embracing Russian state media tightly controls the narrative on the war, portraying the “special military operation” as a defensive measure against NATO, Ukraine, or simply “Nazism.” Constant messaging around the clock frames the war as justified, heroic, or even existential, necessary for the survival of the Russian state.
When Putin launched his full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, the Kremlin imposed draconian wartime censorship laws, and it became illegal to even call the war a “war.” Outlets violating censorship could be shut down or massively fined. Putin’s control of the press is not just about censorship—it is a systematic, multi-layered approach involving economic power, legal mechanisms, coercion, and propaganda.
Some Russians, of course, genuinely believe in the nationalist rhetoric that Russia is reclaiming its historical influence or defending Russian-speaking people in Ukraine. Victory in war has historically been tied to Russian identity, such as in WWII, and Vladimir Putin regularly taps that legacy. He also encourages the view that because of a “forever hostile West,” defeat, or even an agreed peace, would only result in Russia’s humiliation or disintegration.
Then there is the fact that because of censorship, many simply do not know the full reality of the war—civilian casualties, war crimes, or military failures. With dissent criminalised, and few safe platforms to discuss opposition, Russian people self-censor or choose to follow the dominant narrative. In authoritarian systems such as Putin’s, people often adapt to survive, and supporting the war (or pretending to) becomes easier than resisting. Some might want peace but feel powerless, so they align outwardly with the status quo.
Then there’s the economy. Economic dependency is a crucial but often overlooked reason why many Russians support, tolerate, or even prefer that the war continues. Thousands of Russian companies are tied directly to defence production, everything from tanks and missiles to uniforms and catering for soldiers. These companies ramp up hiring during wartime, and their workers benefit from a prolonged conflict. This is why, over the past few years since Putin launched his full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Russia’s unemployment rate has sunk to historic lows, around 2.3%, compared with more than 5% before the conflict.
The war in Ukraine has dramatically reshaped Russia’s labour market, especially in those “rust-belt” and economically disadvantaged regions with little modern economic activity. In these areas, war spending has sparked a significant boost, with factories operating around the clock and unemployment, permanently high in peacetime, dropping sharply.
The result is a rapid growth in tax receipts, with previously underperforming regions like Chuvasia (100% growth), Kostroma (76%), and Pskov (70%) seeing major jumps in federal tax revenues. Many areas went into a sharp decline after the dissolution of the Soviet Union, when the people struggled to find jobs. But as local populations experience rising disposable incomes because of economic activity to support the war, major chains of supermarkets, gyms, beauty salons, and eateries are moving into small towns, creating even more tax receipts.
The result is a virtuous upward economic spiral. For many citizens, pay cheques have tripled since 2022 as a result of the war, which is having a genuinely positive effect on their lives. If the war ends, contracts dry up, production slows, and thousands could lose their jobs.
In many parts of the country’s industrial heartlands, Russia’s war economy has created a new middle class, not only from increased economic activity, but from income derived from participating in the invasion of Ukraine. While it is a good time to be a Russian factory worker, the real money comes if you join the military. Russia’s equivalent of Facebook, VKontakte (VK), is awash with government advertisements encouraging young men to join today’s war effort in Ukraine.
In the historic city of Volgograd, formerly Stalingrad, the location of one of the bloodiest battles in world history which claimed half a million Soviet lives, one advert offers 8m roubles ($100,000) for anyone aged between 18 and 63 for the first year of military service. This is more than ten times the region’s average wage of $9,000 and is all due to the need to supply Russia’s armed forces with some 1,300 volunteers each day. It has been estimated that Russia needs to recruit more than 400,000 volunteers per year to offset casualties and rotations.
Back in September 2022, when Putin ordered a partial mobilisation to boost numbers after the initial disaster and failure to defeat Ukraine in the first month, the reaction was a wave of protests across Russia, resulting in visible cracks in support for the war, especially in urban areas. While conscription exists in Russia, the mobilisation created enormous protests that visibly rattled Putin. He has notably avoided mass mobilisation ever since, and his government has leaned heavily on financial incentives to lure contract soldiers, especially from regions of ethnic minorities in which there are fewer political consequences if there are heavy casualties.
The Russian economist Vladislav Inozemtsev told the Telegraph that “Russia’s poorest regions have been literally competing to sign people on military contracts.” He claims that “this was actually a fascinating know-how on the part of the Putin regime because he has transformed the lives of people in the poor regions who were kind of social waste, into a vehicle for economic development.”
Inozemtsev calls this phenomenon “deathonomics,” where young people from the poorest regions have created an influx of cash that has helped fuel a spending boom. Families in tiny villages and small towns receive “enormous” sums of money by local standards, which have transformed their lives. The price? One million Russian casualties, and counting.
The big question for Vladimir Putin is how to take care of the people and retain his popularity if and when the war stops. The invasion of Ukraine has been so good financially for large sections of Russia’s population that they are simply not interested in a return to peacetime. They want the war to continue, because when it ends a lot may change.
More misery in Ukraine, but plenty of cheering in Volgograd.
John Dobson is a former British diplomat, who also worked in UK Prime Minister John Major’s office between 1995 and 1998. He is currently a visiting fellow at the University of Plymouth.
