Finally, the tendency to describe Russian actions not linked to specific military operations as ‘hybrid warfare’ is particularly problematic. What is essentially a military concept describing a tactical approach to war has morphed into a quasi-theory of Russian foreign policy which, in the eyes of some observers, explains almost every (perceived) Russian move: Russian internet trolls (Spruds et al. 2016), official political statements (Amann et al. 2016), refugees crossing the Russian border (Higgins 2016), even football hooligans (Jones and Smith 2016), have all been described as part of an elaborate plan of Russian ‘hybrid warfare’ against the West. Such a broad use of the concept stretches it to the extent that it has become meaningless. ‘Hybrid warfare’ describes a mix of military and non-military means and there is nothing ‘hybrid’ about the use of information or political statements in isolation. The idea that Russia is conducting a ‘hybrid war’ against the West grossly oversimplifies Russian foreign policy which, as Trenin showed, is determined by various geopolitical concerns and policy drivers (2016a). A broad and all-encompassing label, such as ‘hybrid warfare’ might be appealing, but it is unable to capture the nuances of Russian foreign, security and defence policy and ultimately will make it harder to identify realistic responses vis-à-vis Russia in the long term.
Conclusion
Innovation and revival in Russian military thinking, based on the operations in Crimea and Syria, should not be exaggerated. Developments in the country’s strategy and doctrine show both continuity and change and cannot be summed up as a simple process of transition from the focus on ‘traditional’ wars to ‘new’ wars or ‘hybrid warfare’. During the years leading up to the annexation of Crimea, the extent to which Russian military thinking continued to be based on Cold War assumptions about war and conflict was overstated. Although it is true that when the Russian armed forces were first created in 1992 they initially continued operating under Soviet military doctrine, Russian military and doctrinal thinking reflected the challenges arising from the changing security environment and their strategic implications. External state actors and NATO continued to occupy an important place in Russian threat perceptions for much of the post-Soviet era. However, this was not the result of the inability of conservative military thinkers to move on from the Cold War, but reflected the country’s strategic priorities and threat perceptions, which differed from those of the West.
As such, the assumption that the Russian military could only become truly ‘modern’ if it followed the Western example in adjusting its structure and doctrine was a fallacy, because it did not take into account the idiosyncrasies specific to the country. As it is the case with Russia’s conventional military capabilities, overestimation of its doctrinal and strategic prowess in the aftermath of Crimea now appears to be the greater danger. There is little evidence to support the idea that Russian innovations in war-fighting have put it ahead of the West in this respect or that such innovations are enough to make up for shortcomings in its conventional capabilities. The idea that Russian military thinking took an almost complete about-turn and changed from Cold War obsolescence to ‘hybrid warfare’ wizardry in the matter of just a few years is unrealistic. The operations in Crimea showed that, in comparison to the wars in Chechnya and Georgia, Russia has vastly improved its ability to fine-tune and adjust military tactics to the circumstances of operations of various scope and intensity. However, it has not found a new key to universal military success in the form of ‘hybrid warfare’. Operational success in Crimea was enabled above all by a combination of unique and favourable circumstances. The success of Russian military strategy will continue to be subject to the effects of chance, uncertainty and the ‘fog of war’.
Conclusion
Russia experienced a military revival in recent years. From 2000 onwards, and especially since the military modernization plans announced in 2008, its conventional military power has vastly improved. During the 1990s, the degradation of military capabilities contributed to the country’s international image as a power in decline. Today, Russia is well on the way to overcoming this problem. The implications of the military revival go beyond these improvements in capabilities and image. Russia’s confidence in using the military as a tool of foreign policy has also grown. The annexation of Crimea and the airstrikes in Syria demonstrated that Moscow today is not only able, but also willing, to pursue what it sees as its national interests, even in the face of strong international condemnation and on a global level. Russia is yet again a power to be reckoned with.
This book argued that, although improvements in Russian military power and the Kremlin’s growing confidence to use this instrument are certainly significant, the implications of these developments are not as straightforward as often assumed. Russia’s relative military power compared to the West remains limited and there is also no evidence of a fundamental turnaround in Moscow’s views on the utility of force. It cannot simply be assumed that the military revival signifies Russia’s desire to threaten its neighbours and the West in a bid for domination. This reflects an incomplete understanding of why Moscow sees powerful armed forces as important. The military revival did not occur in a vacuum. It can only be understood within the context of relevant developments in the country’s history. The book’s chapters studied the role of the military in foreign policy in the past and today, reforms of the armed forces since the early 1990s, the meaning of the force structures as an aspect of Russian military power, Moscow’s use of military force since the end of the Cold War, and changes in the country’s military thinking. As such, they provided the context required for a more informed assessment of recent events.
The following sections return to the three major assumptions underlying Western reactions to Russia’s military revival as outlined in the introduction. Addressing each assumption in turn, they will summarize the book’s main arguments about why these assumptions are problematic. In the final section, possible options for Russia’s neighbours and the West in dealing with an increasingly assertive Russia will be addressed.
The timing of Russia’s military revival
Russia’s military revival is not the result of a sudden turnaround in Russian foreign policy. An area where there has been a significant degree of continuity, rather than change, is Russia’s self-perception as a great power and its desire to be granted this status by the international community. The need to maintain an internationally competitive military, as an essential characteristic of a great power, has always been central to this self-perception. This did not change when the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991. As the country’s conventional military capabilities degraded throughout the 1990s, it became ever clearer to the political leadership that Russia’s status as a global military power could not be upheld with a strong nuclear deterrent alone. Other global powers continued to develop their conventional capabilities and the utility of nuclear weapons for the protection and pursuit of Russian interests in the changing international environment was limited. Ambitions to revive Russia’s military power and to remain competitive with the West in this respect date back to the early 1990s and beyond. Owing to a complex confluence of political, societal and financial factors, these ambitions did not start to turn into reality until the turn of the millennium and the implementation of a systematic programme of military modernization in 2008.