Putin has clung on – but his fight for power has only just begun

It’s over – or is it? After 24 hours of high drama, which involved a 25,000-strong mercenary force mounting what increasingly became a direct challenge to President Putin and an armed convoy that came within 200km of Moscow, all would now appear to be quiet on the Russian front. In so many ways, though, the power dynamic inside Russia, and potentially also in the Russia-Ukraine war, has changed.

The questions now are how deep that change runs, whether it is permanent, and what was the cost to Putin of the eleventh-hour agreement – brokered by Belarus president Alexander Lukashenko – that led to the convoy being turned around and the chief mutineer settling for exile and immunity from prosecution.

The origins of what briefly became an armed rebellion against Russia’s top brass and defence establishment appear to lie in Putin’s recent demand that the Wagner mercenary force sign a formal contract with the Russian armed forces – and so subordinate itself to Russian command. The force, founded and led by Yevgeny Prigozhin, one of Putin’s erstwhile St Petersburg associates, had arguably saved Putin’s bacon by winning the protracted battle for Bakhmut, in eastern Ukraine – albeit at great cost – before handing the territory over to troops from Russia’s regular armed forces.

Through the Bakhmut operation, however, Prigozhin had been increasingly critical of how Russia was fighting the Ukraine war. He aired videos condemning everything from what he saw as Moscow’s refusal to supply his troops with sufficient arms and ammunition, the incompetence of Russia’s military efforts in Ukraine, and the reluctance of Russia’s elite to fight for their country. His diatribes became ever more acerbic – and ever more unprintable – leaving both Russians and foreign observers mystified as to how he was allowed to get away with it.

His months of impunity ended on Saturday morning, when Putin made an unscheduled broadcast, lambasting Prigozhin and his Wagner group – although not by name – as traitors and mutineers who were “stabbing Russia in the back”. He appealed – “as president, commander-in-chief and as a Russian citizen” – to Russians to unite to preserve the sovereignty and security of the Russian state.

The last straw appeared to have been Wagner’s takeover of military facilities, including the Ukraine war command centre and the airfield, in the southern Russian city of Rostov-on-Don, from where a convoy set off on a “march for justice” to Moscow. There had been no resistance from the military command in Rostov, or – it appeared – from other cities, such as Voronezh, Elets and Lipetsk, as the convoy moved steadily north.

With forecasts that the rebel force could reach Moscow by nightfall, the capital was placed on high alert and defensive measures taken on approaches to the city. There were predictions that, one way or another, Putin could be out of power within hours and that Russia was on the brink of civil war – a prospect alluded to by Putin in his appeal.

In the light of Prigozhin’s order to the convoy to reverse, and his apparent acquiescence in exile “to avert bloodshed”, there is a view that Putin prevailed. Maybe one day that judgement will be vindicated. But that is not how it looks on the day after.

Putin had waited weeks before acknowledging that there was any threat at all from Prigozhin, despite the Wagner chief’s incendiary inflammatory statements, which ended up questioning Russia’s official rationale for the Ukraine invasion. When Putin finally made his broadcast, he had to admit that a part of the country – and not just any part of the country, but a major city and military centre – was out of Moscow’s control. This is not something any national leader would choose to do. If Putin could have pre-empted, or ended, what amounted to an insurrection without going public, that would have been far less damaging to his authority.

It also appears that Putin invoked, or had to accept, third-party mediation in order to end the Wagner threat, which suggests that he was far from being able to snap his fingers and call Prigozhin to heel. The balance of advantage is also hard to judge, as only the bare bones of the resulting agreement are known: the halt to the convoy and Prigozhin’s exile, as well as the contracting of Wagner into the regular Russian forces.

What was in it for Lukashenko, whose support for Putin’s Ukraine war has at times appeared reluctant? Has he obtained new funding from Russia? An advantageous energy deal? Some undertaking about spoils of war, should Russia prevail against Ukraine? Does Lukashenko now have some leverage over Putin?

And what did it take to persuade Prigozhin into exile? A massive bribe has been mooted, but is that really all it took? Prigozhin’s demands had appeared to include the removal of the defence minister and those top brass responsible, in his view, for mismanaging the Ukraine campaign. Do we know whether they are still in place? Will there be high-level changes in coming weeks? And if there are, what effect would that have on Russia’s war effort? And what would it say about Putin’s authority, if his personnel decisions are dictated by someone he has labelled a traitor?

Some are suggesting that Prigozhin is now a marked man, that his days are numbered, and that he might choose to leave the scene altogether, to focus on Wagner’s activities in parts of Africa. Then again, what guarantee is there that Prigozhin will remain in exile or beyond the fray – the fray being not just Ukraine operations, but any political manoeuvrings that may break out in Moscow?

Or did Putin perhaps play the all-powerful leader and threaten to bomb Prigozhin’s convoy into oblivion? The downside of such a move for Putin – aside from the threat of splitting Russia’s armed forces in the event of some officers perhaps refusing to obey such an order – would have been the destruction of some of the more effective units fighting in Ukraine on Russia’s side. But how loyal are those Wagner fighters likely to be now, if they are forced to sign contracts with Russia’s regular army?

In averting, if only temporarily, whatever threat might have been presented by Prigozhin, Putin has emerged with his nominal power – but not his authority – intact. Whether, as some are arguing (even hoping), this spells an imminent end to his two-score plus years at Russia’s helm, however, is harder to gauge. Prigozhin never threatened Putin’s power directly; it was the defence establishment he was after, and any realistic challenge to Putin depends on there being someone able and willing to lead it. That is not evident as of now, and there is a war on, which has not – yet – drawn overt public opposition.

How far the dramas of recent days could affect Russia’s war effort may also emerge only with time. On the one hand, it might not only be former Wagner mercenaries with new contracts who have second thoughts about fighting on, but regular Russian forces, too, if they sense divisions among those running the war from Moscow.

On the other hand, however, there must be a question as to whether Ukraine can capitalise on any new weakness – and a damaged, possibly vulnerable leader in Moscow may be even less open to concessions than he was before.