The Continued Myth of Russia’s Imminent Collapse: Lessons from Prigozhin’s Mutiny Three Years On

Rumor and Reality

Prigozhin survived a negotiated settlement and the initial aftermath of his short-lived rebellion only to have his plane fall out of the sky months later. Wagner was dismantled and its elements incorporated into the Russian armed forces and intelligence agencies. Putin remains firmly in power, and the past three years have only seen a strengthening of his security and intelligence services.

Russia continues its war against Ukraine. And there are more rumors in recent months, from experts around the world, claiming Putin is “more vulnerable than ever.” This assumption is mostly grounded in Ukraine’s tremendous progress in escalating the drone war, its long-range strikes making a real impact on Russia’s energy sector, and heavy Russian casualties at the front continuing to mount throughout the year. There has also been more public criticism among Russia’s ruling elite than at any time during the war. But speculating from those facts that Putin is now substantially weaker as a dictator, or even, as some have suggested, “ripe for a coup,” is mostly wishful thinking.

Such rumors from alleged intelligence agency leaks, and experts cited by media outlets, offer a tempting, albeit false, notion that the Ukraine war might come to an end without the West having to do more; that Putin will just be overthrown and a more democratic alternative might come to power. Or that resolve and strong support for our Ukrainian allies, who are still fighting and dying every day, are not really needed, and that the “war is surely coming to an end…” That was the response given this week when Germany was pressed on providing long-range weapons:
“well, Ukraine is doing better than ever!” But none of that is based on reality, and Ukraine needs NATO and the U.S.’s support to see this war through to a just settlement, one where Ukraine does not sacrifice long-term security for peace.

Looking back at the war and to Prigozhin’s mutiny, the first lesson to remember is that the Prigozhin’s move exposed important vulnerabilities within the Russian state, ones that have existed for decades. Wagner's convoy advanced hundreds of miles while much of the security apparatus appeared confused, hesitant, or absent altogether. The episode reinforced what many who study Russia have argued for years: corruption, patronage, bureaucratic dysfunction, and institutional rivalries remain defining characteristics of Putin's system. Loyalty often trumps competence, and political reliability frequently matters more than military effectiveness.

Those weaknesses are real. They were discounted by far too many Western military experts before the 2022 invasion, who predicted a quick Russian victory. I have documented numerous examples of such failures across the Russian intelligence, military, and security establishment in my own book: Tradecraft, Tactics, and Dirty Tricks: Russian Intelligence and Putin’s Secret War (Naval Institute Press 2026).

Yet acknowledging these shortcomings should never lead us to underestimating the adversary. The war has damaged the Russian economy, and the energy sector is in crisis due to Ukraine’s strike campaign. Still, as The Economist recently noted, the economy is not in shambles, unfortunately, and won’t crash anytime soon.

Russia’s intelligence services (RIS) remain capable, adaptive, and ruthless. They have repeatedly demonstrated an ability to recover from mistakes, suppress internal threats, and preserve the regime. They get the very best in terms of resources and reconstitution from any losses, and they are expanding their hybrid war against Europe and the U.S.

Weakness and Resilience in Putin’s Russia at War

Weakness and resilience are not mutually exclusive. Prigozhin’s mutiny revealed both. This is the second lesson from three years ago. War has strengthened the RIS and, especially, the FSB’s chokehold on the Russian people. Their economy has largely weathered sanctions and repeated hits, and their population, unfortunately, remains hypnotized by heavy propaganda. Sadly, most Russians support Putin as strongly as the Nazi Germans did Hitler, even to their bitter end. Unfortunately, Russian propaganda today has many more tools than Dr. Goebbels did, and they use them very well.

Prigozhin knew it. He was not marching on Moscow to overthrow Vladimir Putin. This has been widely misunderstood. Throughout the crisis, Prigozhin directed his fury overwhelmingly at Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu and Chief of the General Staff Valery Gerasimov. His extraordinary public denunciations in the weeks prior to the mutiny, shouting at both on Russian TV, stunned all of Russia but received little attention in the West. Prigozhin accused the military leadership of corruption, deception, and catastrophic mismanagement of the war in Ukraine. His objective was to humiliate them, force their removal, and compel Putin to intervene—not to replace Putin himself. He was screaming into Russian cameras, “Shoigu! Gerasimov!!” But not once did he shout Putin’s name. He knew where to stop with his ire.

Western observers too often interpreted the mutiny through their own hopes for regime change. It was an elite struggle within the existing system, not a revolutionary movement against it. Understanding that distinction is essential. Elite infighting should not automatically be mistaken for the imminent collapse of the regime.

Putin is a master, just like Stalin was 80 years ago, at playing his lieutenants and loyalist Siloviki against one another. While they jostle for power, he remains firmly in control, and they are constantly trying to curry his favor. Prigozhin sat at his table—and prepared that table—for decades. He knew it.

The third lesson is perhaps the most consequential. Putin's system was never designed to depend solely on the regular armed forces. It rests on multiple overlapping centers of coercive power, principally at the hands of the intelligence services. The Federal Security Service (FSB) remains the dominant institution protecting the regime. Alongside it stands the National Guard (Rosgvardia), with its vast manpower and domestic security mission, and the Federal Protective Service (FSO), whose responsibilities include safeguarding the country's leadership (first and foremost in the personage of Putin). These organizations were deliberately structured to counterbalance one another, prevent any single institution from becoming too powerful, and ensure that threats to the regime can be contained from multiple directions. Putin is a master at it.

The Wagner mutiny did not invalidate that architecture. If anything, the aftermath demonstrated its durability. While the regular military was embarrassed, the broader security state remained intact. Rosgvardia was strengthened immediately after the mutiny, receiving more heavy equipment, tanks, and APCs designed to put down even the most serious uprising by disloyal units, should they ever get past the wary watch of the FSB. It is headed by General Viktor Zolotov, a loyal former KGB colleague of Putin’s. That layered system and those allegiances help explain why authoritarian regimes like Putin’s can absorb dramatic shocks without collapsing (Iran provides parallels, and no doubt Russia and Iran continue to learn from one another).

None of this means Putin's regime is invulnerable. History offers countless reminders that authoritarian systems often appear stable until they suddenly are not. Internal rivalries matter. Economic pressure matters. Military setbacks matter.

But careful analysis requires distinguishing between long-term structural vulnerabilities and near-term political collapse. Those are not the same thing. Russia under Putin has shown a remarkable ability to overcome its structural and corrupt vulnerabilities to launch out repeatedly with aggression.

Three years after the Wagner mutiny, the greatest analytical mistake would be the same one made in June 2023: allowing hope to substitute for honest assessment. We cannot simply hold our breath, wait for the next rumor of elite discord, and convince ourselves that the dictator—and the security state he has painstakingly constructed over twenty-six years—will collapse under its own weight.

It will not be that easy. If Russia's aggression is ultimately to be defeated, it will require sustained Western resolve, continued support for Ukraine, and a clear-eyed understanding of both the strengths and the weaknesses of the adversary we face. Strategy demands as much patience as the current optimism calls for. But our strategy also demands more resolve, as well as something else missing in 2022—and for much of Putin’s reign—a more credible deterrent from the West.

All statements of fact, opinion, or analysis expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the official positions or views of the US Government. Nothing in the contents should be construed as asserting or implying US Government authentication of information or endorsement of the author's views.