A series of recent events indicate, first, that Russia and the nations of the Global South believe the West—particularly Europe— is losing the war in Ukraine; second, that the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) is entering the war in Europe on Russia’s side; and third, that the Big 4 has been formed, with Trump positioning himself and the United States not merely as the leader of the West, but as the leader of this new bloc.
To explain and substantiate these conclusions, I will write a series of articles and produce several videos for my YouTube channel, *Valery Morozov: Dialogue of Civilizations*. I will begin today with a crucial aspect that many seem to misunderstand that is causing politicians to make strategic errors and delay critical decisions, a trend especially visible among the leaders of the EU and Western European nations.
This failure to comprehend the new reality is fueling internal political crises that threaten great European civilization, the very existence of the EU, and the system of Western democracy. Just a few years ago, this system was not only considered the pinnacle of socio-economic development but was promoted and imposed on other countries and civilizations.
Today, I will start with an analysis of the situation on Europe’s fronts, for the war has already spilled beyond the borders of Ukraine and Russia, Poland and the Baltics, Moldova and Romania. It has transcended the boundaries of Europe itself, a fact that has yet to be recognized and is still perceived by many as merely a possible, if unlikely, scenario.
*
Russia’s New Goals in the War in Ukraine
Modern warfare, as the conflict in Ukraine best demonstrates, is a new type of war: network-centric and hybrid. It is waged across all domains and in every direction possible to force the enemy to accept the strategic demands and conditions of the state, or coalition of states, waging it.
It is especially important to note that in this modern sixth-generation war, the capture of territory, the scale of losses and destruction, the number of killed and wounded, or the overthrow of the enemy’s leadership are not the fundamental metrics of success or failure.
The course and outcome of a modern war are determined solely by the core political and economic demands and goals of the conflicting parties.
Russia presented its demands and conditions in 2021, prior to a conflict that was mistakenly planned and initiated as a limited military and police special operation. To Putin’s surprise and disappointment, this operation immediately began to transform into a full-scale war between Russia and the West—primarily the United States and some of Washington’s NATO allies. This war has turned out to be the first full-scale sixth-generation war.
The Kremlin has not spoken of revising its demands and goals. However, a war of this magnitude is no special operation. A war against a united West, a war at a new level of technological development, has forced the Russian leadership to reassess its priorities and objectives.
The Kremlin realized that Russia was unprepared for such a conflict; that Putin had been outmaneuvered and provoked into becoming an aggressor in the eyes of the world, embroiling Russia in a confrontation with the entire West—something unprecedented in its history. They saw that the liberal clan-based model of development, with its systemic corruption, rendered Russia incapable of confronting these new threats.
However, unlike Biden and the leaders of the EU and NATO, Putin and the new decision-making team—which is gradually replacing and squeezing out the old clans that have ruled Russia since the late 1980s—have this time drawn the correct conclusion.
The Kremlin has chosen a path that aligns with the fundamental character of Russian civilization: to take firm control, cease reactive maneuvers, and methodically consolidate its strength. This involves a comprehensive restoration of the national defence apparatus and the military machine, reinstating the military class to a position of power, dignity, and respect within society. Drawing upon traits of the Russian character—many now shared by most of Russia’s peoples—it has set in motion a relentless mechanism to confront its adversaries. This machine operates with deliberate, methodical force, determined to pursue matters to their conclusion: until both the West and Kyiv capitulate to all of the Kremlin’s demands and strategic objectives.
The dynamics of the war shifted dramatically when Zelensky, under Western influence, reneged on the agreements reached in Istanbul. This refusal heightened the stakes and, in turn, catalyzed an evolution in Russia’s war aims.
Those objectives have been recalibrated—strengthened and expanded in scope—though this shift has not been formally declared. Initially, Moscow’s primary demands included the denazification and demilitarization of Ukraine, Kyiv’s renunciation of NATO membership, a halt to NATO’s eastward expansion, and the removal of strategic military installations from territories adjacent to Russia that pose a direct threat.
On paper, these demands still stand. In reality, however, the situation—and more importantly, the underlying goals of the war—have fundamentally changed.
The core new demands and strategic objectives, irrespective of the specific language used to convey them, are now:
– The reversal of Western and NATO posturing to the state of the mid-1980s—honouring the promise made to Gorbachev that NATO would not expand eastward—followed by the progressive weakening and eventual dissolution of NATO.
– The restoration of a Russian-led macro-region within the approximate borders of the USSR, with provisions for its further expansion should other nations in Europe and Asia express a desire to join.
– The establishment of a new world order founded on the principle of rejecting policies dependent on military blocs, and the creation of an international system of governance based on the equality of all great civilizations.
*
The Kill-Zone War Europe Isn’t Ready For
Trump understood this. He discussed key strategic positions with Putin during their Alaska summit. The United States withdrew from direct involvement in the conflict but maintained limited support for Ukraine, the EU, and NATO—sufficient to contain Russia—while rebuilding its relationships based on pragmatic interests, particularly those of American corporations and the U.S. financial system.
In the view of Trump and his team, Russia remains financially weak and dependent. They see the economic and political model established in the early 1990s and perpetuated by Putin as a form of restraint—comparable to “a bit in the horse’s mouth,” making the animal easier to lead wherever the rider wishes. Trump intends to remain that rider.
Putin acquainted the leaders of BRICS and SCO with Russia’s demands, and in China at the last summit these demands of Russia were supported by the leaders of SCO, and non-alignment and equality of civilizations were proclaimed by Xi Jinping, Narendra Modi and Vladimir Putin as the main principles of world order openly and officially. In fact, in Beijing the SCO finally sided with Russia in the war with Europe and Ukraine.
But Europe and NATO did not understand what had happened. Europe did not realize that it had entered a full-scale war in Ukraine of the sixth generation. In Europe and NATO, the conviction remained that only Ukraine was fighting Russia, and that through its hands the West was inflicting significant damage on Russia, and that this damage could lead to the weakening of Russia, its collapse and defeat.
But for Russia, damage has long since become a secondary factor. The war has become serious for the Kremlin.
European leaders do not understand and underestimate the level of confrontation in Ukraine, they believe that Russia is waging war in Ukraine alone, at best, having only Belarus and North Korea as allies. They fail to grasp that even countries which have not mobilized additional soldiers, deployed troops to the front lines, or supplied combatants with military equipment or ammunition are still active participants in sixth-generation warfare.
Indeed, because sixth-generation warfare is increasingly characterized by remote and non-contact engagement. In 2022, while battles in Ukraine occurred across the entire front line—often through direct combat between units—approximately 60 percent of losses resulted from fighting on the contact line, while 40 percent were caused by artillery and air strikes. This evolution marks a shift in how war is waged, where physical presence is no longer the sole measure of participation.
This shift underscores the defining characteristic of this new era: sixth-generation warfare is fundamentally non-contact. By mid-2025, artillery, missiles, and airstrikes were projected to account for less than 15% of casualties, while drone strikes were responsible for more than 85%. By the end of the year, that figure is expected to reach 95%.
Moreover, the front line has been segmented by “kill zones,” which extend 15 to 40 kilometers deep from the point of contact. Any military personnel, civilians, or equipment within these zones are almost certain to be destroyed by the side controlling the airspace and unmanned systems. It is drones—not artillery or ground units—that now inflict the overwhelming majority of damage within these lethal corridors.
These kill zones now stretch, in total, for 300–400 kilometers along the front line, limited only by natural barriers such as rivers or mountain ranges. The central objective of the war has shifted toward controlling and expanding these zones of automated destruction. Ground troops advance only into territories that have been first cleared—and relentlessly patrolled—by drones.
The Russian army is advancing methodically, gaining control monthly over an average of 500–600 square kilometres of Ukrainian territory in 2025—an area roughly equivalent to half the size of Surrey. However, it is crucial to recognize that in modern warfare, physical territorial control is increasingly secondary to the establishment of kill zones. These zones now extend across thousands of square kilometres to the west of the current front line. In the coming weeks, the area dominated by such kill zones is projected to expand to tens of thousands of square kilometres, fundamentally redefining the spatial and tactical nature of the conflict.
Indeed, contrary to earlier Western estimates that Russia was allocating up to 40% of its GDP, and not 20%, not even 10%, toward defence and war efforts, current analyses indicate that the actual figure ranges between just 5% and 7%. This level of spending has allowed the Russian government to minimize the war’s impact on daily life. The majority of the population continues to live in relative normalcy, largely insulated from the realities of the conflict—a situation reinforced by state media and official messaging that consistently refers to the invasion as a “special military operation” rather than a war.
For Putin, the most critical front remains the domestic one. To maintain stability at home, he has refrained from initiating even a partial mobilization, relying instead on a volunteer-based recruitment model. Consequently, Russia is conducting its offensive with a military force approximately 30% smaller than the Ukrainian army defending against it. This strategic choice prioritizes internal political calm over overwhelming numerical advantage on the battlefield, reflecting a calculation that domestic consensus is as vital as territorial gain.
The Russian army is applying steady pressure along the entire front line rather than attempting large-scale breakthroughs—such as the thrust toward Kyiv in 2022 or offensive operations from Belarus aimed at severing Ukraine into isolated zones.
Notably, for three years Russia refrained from targeting Ukraine’s energy infrastructure systemically, opting instead for selective strikes. This restraint reflects the strategic value of the energy system as a critical national asset—even as Ukraine conducts daily drone strikes against energy facilities deep inside Russian territory.
Ultimately, control over key Ukrainian assets—particularly its energy infrastructure—is poised to fall under Russian influence. Moscow has signaled its readiness to share access to these resources with the United States and China, and would potentially extend the same offer to Europe—should European leaders reconsider their current geopolitical stance.
*
Drones over Poland
Europe fails to recognize that Russia’s objective is to inflict a strategic defeat not only on Ukraine but on Europe as a whole—and the Kremlin intends to achieve this without triggering a full-scale war that would bring catastrophic destruction to economies and cities.
Putin has openly stated this on multiple occasions, remarking: “We haven’t really started yet.” In the West, figures like Trump, Orbán, Fico, and a handful of other politicians have understood the warning. The rest refused to listen—until the drone attack on Poland made the reality of the conflict impossible to ignore.
This is, indeed, a modern hybrid war—one in which Russia’s primary objective is not merely the seizure of territory, but a fundamental restructuring of the global order, securing a leading role for itself within BRICS and the SCO, as well as a decisive position among the “Big Four” global powers.
In pursuit of these aims, Russia continues to leverage unconventional resources and alliances. Military units from North Korea, already trained and coordinated on the front lines in the Kursk region, are being held in reserve. Some analysts suggest Pyongyang is prepared to deploy between 50,000 and 200,000 soldiers to the Ukrainian front if required.
Meanwhile, Beijing may use the conflict as a testing ground for its newest weapons systems, refining their performance in real combat before integrating them into joint Russian-Chines tactical exercises—particularly those focused on dominance within deep-range kill zones.
Additionally, the flow of military recruits to Russia—such as Gurkhas from Nepal and India—is likely to increase, further shifting the human and strategic dimensions of the war beyond conventional interstate confrontation.
Yet Putin is deliberately refraining from such escalation. Why? Because he is operating on the conviction that this war will be won not primarily on the battlefield, but in other, more decisive domains: namely the financial, and above all, the technological and informational-political spheres.
His strategy is one of systemic endurance and long-term influence. He believes that by leveraging Russia’s resources, forging strategic partnerships, he can outlast and outmaneuver the West, thereby securing victory without necessitating a dramatic and risky escalation of conventional military force. In this view, the front lines are merely one theatre in a much larger, more complex conflict.
*
European leaders recognize that modern warfare extends across all domains of confrontation. It is waged not only on the physical battlefield but also in:
– Cyberspace, through attacks on digital infrastructure and security;
– The technological sphere, by developing and deploying advanced weapons systems and innovative methods of engagement;
– The financial arena, by targeting financial systems, seizing assets, destabilizing currencies, and constraining an adversary’s ability to fund technological development, maintain public welfare, and sustain military operations;
– The information environment, including both humanitarian narratives and political propaganda, to shape public perception and erode institutional trust.
This comprehensive understanding reflects a shift in strategic thought—acknowledging that victory is now determined by dominance across interconnected fronts, and that resilience in each of these domains is essential to national and collective security.
However, European leaders continue to view these domains as auxiliary or secondary to direct combat operations—a critical underestimation that has left the West fundamentally unprepared for sixth-generation warfare. Even after three years of ongoing conflict, both Europe and NATO have failed to adequately reassess their strategies or accurately evaluate the full spectrum of risks.
NATO had prepared for a different kind of war: a short, high-intensity conflict against a weaker adversary, in which Western technological and military superiority—achieved through concentrated forces, including advanced and expensive weapons systems deployed in key sectors—would guarantee a rapid victory. This conventional mindset has proven ill-suited to the prolonged, multi-domain reality of modern hybrid warfare.
NATO has proven unprepared for large-scale warfare across thousand-kilometre fronts, where combat is increasingly waged by small, dispersed units of two to three fighters, supported by mass-produced and inexpensive air defence systems and transport equipment.
Europe was equally unprepared for conflict within kill zones spanning hundreds of thousands of square kilometres, where thousands of drones operate daily. Russia or Ukraine made this vulnerability starkly clear by launching over two dozen unarmed drones into Polish airspace—a move that overwhelmed Poland’s air defences and exposed a critical weakness.
The incident forced NATO military planners to confront a terrifying new reality: their expensive, maintenance-intensive air defence systems—requiring servicing every 100 hours of operation—would be rapidly depleted under continuous attacks by thousands of drones and missiles. This demonstration revealed not only technical limitations but a fundamental strategic miscalculation in how future wars will be fought.
One of the central domains of modern warfare is the psychological and political influence exerted on the allies and supporters of the main combatants. This can take the form of speeches, provocative statements, or strategic media publications—but it can also be achieved through calculated demonstrations of force.
A striking example is the launch of a dozen harmless drones, worth just tens of thousands of dollars, into the airspace of one of NATO’s most hawkish member states. This simple act forced the targeted nation to expend tens of millions of dollars scrambling jets, activating air defence systems, and conducting emergency assessments—revealing not only material vulnerabilities but also sowing doubt, draining resources, and demonstrating how easily psychological pressure can be translated into strategic advantage.
Indeed—or one might realize that Europe remains unprepared for this form of warfare, and that continued support for Ukraine could compel NATO members to spend hundreds of millions of dollars countering “brazen” drone incursions, launched not to inflict direct damage, but to probe, exhaust, and expose the alliance’s air defence vulnerabilities.
And in the end, a major war may never formally begin. Instead, it may unfold as a prolonged, psychologically draining, and economically costly confrontation—fought with drones, disinformation, and strategic pressure—where victory is measured not in territories taken, but in wills broken and budgets depleted.
