Russia Is Not Collapsing Yet. But We Should Prepare for the Moment When It Becomes Possible

Is the regime stable, or is it quietly weakening from within? When should we expect change, if at all?

The short answer is this: Russia is changing. But this is not yet a collapse. At least for now.

And yet, the most important point is not whether the system is collapsing today. What matters is that it is increasingly behaving as if it is preparing for the moment when collapse becomes possible.

Of course, one must be cautious with any forecasts about Russia. In the spring of 2022, just as the war began and after I was recalled from my position in Moscow as the Lithuanian Ambassador to Moscow, I predicted that Russia would not withstand sanctions and battlefield losses, and that dissatisfaction would emerge by autumn 2022. Unfortunately, I underestimated the regime’s resilience.

But that does not mean we should stop observing and analyzing. That is why I decided to take a closer look and share my view of what is currently happening and what we should expect in Putin’s indoctrinated Russia.

The war in Ukraine, Trump’s transactional politics, and now the war in the Middle East are drawing attention away, leaving observers of Russia little time to examine internal processes. However, this is precisely where quiet but strategically important changes are taking place today.

Many analysts agree that several signals in Russia can no longer be ignored, and I share this view. Society is gradually growing tired of the war, the economy is under increasing pressure, there is no breakthrough at the front, and the regime is tightening control through further repression, internet restrictions, and information space closures. At the same time, even loyal actors are beginning to say things that would have been unthinkable not long ago.

This is not yet a crisis. But it is no longer the stability that Putin once took pride in.

Paradoxically, these processes are still underanalyzed in the West. Most attention is focused on the war itself and geopolitics, and less on how the war is transforming the Russian state, economy, and society. These internal changes may ultimately prove decisive.

It is worth starting with society and the economy.

Even surveys by the state-affiliated Vserossiyskiy Centr Izucheniya Obshchestvennogo Mneniya, Russian Public Opinion Research Center (VCIOM ), show a clear trend. Formal support for the war appears to remain, but there is a growing desire among Russian citizens for the conflict to end as soon as possible. This is not open opposition, nor can it be expected in an authoritarian system. This is classic war fatigue. Society is gradually shifting from a mobilized phase to a passive one: from “we must win at any cost,” to “what matters is that this finally ends.”

At the same time, the economy is under increasing strain. Even top Russian officials acknowledge this. The head of the Russian Central Bank, Elvira Nabiullina, has admitted that the economy shows signs of overheating, faces growing labor shortages, experiences persistent inflation risks, and is forced to maintain tight monetary policy under uncertain external conditions. Economic growth is becoming increasingly imbalanced and tied to deeper structural transformation.

Sanctions, lost markets, rising war expenditures, and structural weaknesses have not disappeared. Rising oil prices due to tensions in the Middle East may temporarily ease the situation, but they do not change the overall direction. The Russian economy is becoming more dependent on war and less sustainable.

Additional pressure comes from strikes on Russian territory by Ukraine, specifically targeting oil refining infrastructure. This has economic and strong psychological effects by undermining the illusion of security, which has long been one of the pillars of regime stability. Even former Russian Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu has effectively acknowledged that the war and its associated threats are no longer localized. According to him, no region in Russia can feel completely safe or untouched anymore. This is an important signal because, until recently, the official narrative suggested the opposite—that the consequences of war were distant and would not affect everyday life inside the country. Today, the rhetoric is changing: The threat is becoming universal, allowing authorities to justify broader internal control and security measures while fostering a constant sense of siege and insecurity in society.

The situation on the front in Ukraine also shapes the broader picture. Russia is not on the brink of defeat, but it is not achieving a breakthrough either. Psychologically, this is close to defeat. The war is stuck, having turned into a war of attrition. There is no clear trajectory of victory that could legitimize the regime in the eyes of society. Mobilization might help somewhat at the front, but it is not a solution because of the political costs associated with it. Putin is not eager to repeat the experience of the “partial mobilization” of 2022, which caused unrest in some of Russia’s least stable regions.

When there is no external success, the regime increasingly turns inward.

Here, a fundamental shift becomes clear. The Russian regime is moving from a model of relative stability to a model of control. Previously, the system relied on an adaptive society, limited economic growth, and an unwritten social contract. Within this social contract, the government provides stability and society avoids political engagement. That logic is now fading. The system relies less on passive consent and more on active control. Security structures gain more weight, censorship expands, the information space narrows, and the state increasingly interferes in everyday life—from internet use to economic decisions.

In other words, power is shifting from “we govern because people tolerate us” to “we govern because we can force it.”

This shift is clearly visible in the information space. Internet disruptions in Moscow and other cities are becoming systemic. They affect daily life, the economy, and services. The “whitelist” principle suggests the regime is testing a selective access model—only what is controlled is allowed to function. From my own experience of living in Russia, internet use was widespread (at least in major cities) from taxis and food delivery to e-services and banking. It is hard to imagine how the younger generation will feel losing all this. I see potential tensions here. Of course, this does not affect Putin’s core electorate: older residents in the regions.

Pressure on Telegram reinforces this trend. It is not just about controlling content, it is about taking over the communication infrastructure itself. The goal is to minimize uncontrolled information channels. The reaction has been strong, ranging from frontline participants to politicians.

At the same time, the security narrative is expanding. Constant talk of threats helps legitimize stricter internal control measures and creates a permanent state of siege.

Perhaps the most important signals come from within the system itself. Increasingly, criticism is heard from loyal or formerly loyal figures more than from the opposition or exile communities. General Leonid Ivashov speaks about the war as a strategic mistake, Russia’s isolation, and lost global positions. Pro-regime actors are more frequently raising questions about the course of the war, its cost, and the rationality of government decisions.

This is not yet coordinated or organized resistance. The shift itself is significant—criticism is emerging where it was previously unimaginable. Resistance now comes from within the system, from people long considered its pillars.

This is not opposition. It is an erosion of loyalty. In authoritarian systems, such quiet, internal erosion is often the first sign that the system is beginning to lose its internal backbone—not yet collapsing, but no longer monolithic.

The international analytical community is increasingly noting these trends: the regime is under pressure, elite unity is weakening, and the image of Putin’s invulnerability is gradually eroding. At the same time, there is broad agreement that regime collapse in the near term is unlikely.

And this is where the key paradox—and opportunity—lies.

Russia today is both stable and unstable at the same time. The system functions, but its foundations are changing.

The situation can be summarized quite precisely: A coup is not happening now, but the Kremlin is preparing for a scenario in which it becomes possible.

Ongoing repression, internet restrictions, pressure on Telegram, economic strain, stagnation in the war, strikes on Russian territory, and even criticism from loyal figures all point to one thing: The regime remains strong, but it is no longer relaxed.

And in authoritarian regimes, that is often the most important signal of all.

The system begins to fear itself  and its own people.

Western governments should wait for—and be prepared to deal with the effects of—change. Whether it comes about suddenly or gradually, a collapse of Putin’s authoritarian system will ripple far beyond Russia’s borders.

Featured Image: OpenAI ChatGPT image generation (2026). Produced for Delphi Global Research Center.