The Kremlin’s poker face

Street lights outside the Kremlin. Photo: Lina Makushina / Shutterstock

Three times over the past four years, events concerning Russia’s invasion of Ukraine unfolded not according to the scenario that seemed most likely.

In early February 2022, the most probable scenario appeared to be that there would be no full-scale war. The potential gains for Russia from a large-scale invasion were enormous, but the risks of things going wrong were even greater, and the potential Russian losses — economic, geopolitical and otherwise — in case of failure were staggering. The most likely scenario seemed to be the following: by rattling its weapons, Russia would extract certain political concessions from Ukraine and then conclude its “military exercises”. In poker terms, this would be taking the pot — locking in gains and minimizing losses.

In early April 2022, the most likely scenario seemed to be that there would be no war of attrition. The blitzkrieg by the professional army had failed, while shifting the economy onto a war footing, conducting mass mobilization, and engaging in a long, large-scale confrontation — not only military, but also industrial, resource-based, demographic and psychological — appeared excessively risky. The most probable scenario seemed to be that Russia would move the war into a frozen-conflict phase, with a line of contact significantly more favourable to it than between 2014 and 2021. Take the pot — lock in gains, minimize losses.

In early November 2025, the most likely scenario appeared to be that Russia would agree to peace negotiations. The war of attrition had not led to Ukraine’s collapse, but it had exhausted Russia’s accumulated resources from previous periods and brought it close to inflationary financing — a one-way ticket. The most likely scenario seemed to be that Russia would extract maximum political concessions from Ukraine and Europe, taking advantage of President Trump’s preference for a rapid end to the war on almost any terms, and would then shift to political pressure on Ukraine — where the available leverage is considerable. Take the pot — lock in gains, minimize losses.

This systematic deviation indicates that we underestimate several key parameters of decision-making in Moscow. First, the war is understood as existential not only in Ukraine, but also in the Kremlin. Second, the authoritarian vertical produces a distorted picture of reality. Third, there is a different decision-making logic at work — a mafia-style KGB logic rather than a rational one. Three times during the full-scale war there were points of strategic bifurcation, and three times the Kremlin chose escalation and raising the stakes, even though from a strategic perspective it would have been more advantageous to lock in gains and minimize losses. In its internal logic, however, doing so would mean acknowledging the limits of its power — which is tantamount to defeat.

This logic is well known to poker players. The issue is not that the Kremlin repeatedly miscalculates its odds. Rather, it consistently chooses a strategy that is suboptimal in terms of expected gains but oriented toward escalation, as locking in gains contradicts its self-identification. Decisions are made not on the basis of what is profitable or unprofitable, but on the basis of what does not contradict the image it has of itself. Lacking a guaranteed victory, it plays as if such a victory were assured. This strategy is known as table dominance: not to secure concrete gains, but to intimidate, break, and force all others out of the game.

The problem is not that the Kremlin is bad at calculating probabilities — it simply does not act on them. It cannot, in principle, refrain from escalation, because de-escalation is perceived as a loss, regardless of the gains already achieved. The Kremlin is not irrational; it is internally consistent within its own logic.

We must pause here for an important remark. A frequent reaction to this analysis is the fear that a strategy based on relentless escalation must ultimately lead to nuclear war. This conclusion, however, rests on a conceptual mistake. Escalation, as practiced by the Kremlin, is not open-ended. It is bounded by the regime’s core objective: to preserve its own survival and its role as a coercive actor within the international system. Nuclear war would not be the peak of escalation, but its negation — not a strong move within the game, but the destruction of the game itself.

The Kremlin escalates in order to remain at the table, to intimidate others and force concessions, not to overturn the table altogether. Nuclear weapons therefore function primarily as instruments of deterrence and regime preservation, not as tools for winning the war. This distinction matters: recognizing the internal limits of the Kremlin’s escalation logic does not minimize the danger of continued aggression, but it does invalidate the fatalistic belief that sustained pressure inevitably leads to nuclear catastrophe. Escalation is dangerous precisely because it stays within the game — not because it seeks to end it.

Let us return to a logical conclusion. The conclusion is straightforward: the Kremlin cannot be forced into a rational agreement, regardless of what Ukraine, Europe, the United States, or China do. It can only be forced to lose — and when its resources are exhausted, it will withdraw.

This is bad news, as the war will continue no matter what we do. It is also good news because the Kremlin’s strategies are predictable and self-destructive.

Two consequences follow from this conclusion.

First, there will be no peace agreement. Even if Ukraine were to make maximum concessions, the Kremlin would put forward additional demands and continue to apply pressure — again and again.

Second, there will be war in Europe beyond Ukraine. Standing once more at a point of strategic choice, the Kremlin will again select not the optimal strategy of locking in gains, but the strategy of escalation, because it cannot allow itself to stop raising the stakes. For the fourth time, the same logic will prevail.

This is the strategic space in which we will have to operate this year.

Valerii Pekar is a chairman of the board of the Decolonization NGO, the author of four books, an adjunct professor at the Kyiv-Mohyla Business School and Business School of the Ukrainian Catholic University, and a former member of the National Reform Council.

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Kremlin, Russian invasion of Ukraine, strategy, Ukraine