With the Wagner Group Mutiny, Cracks Appear in Putin’s Facade

The mutiny by the Wagner Group — a Russian mercenary organization — not only marks a shocking turn in Russia’s ongoing invasion of Ukraine. It also sends a clear signal that President Vladimir Putin’s position is not as unassailable as many have assumed.

The Wagner Group, led by Russian businessman Yevgeny Prigozhin, has been active for years in Africa and the Middle East, notably in Syria, serving to project Russian influence. But the group has come into its own in the Russia-Ukraine war, providing tens of thousands of soldiers (many recruited from Russian prisons) to the country’s war effort. The mercenaries played a particularly important role during the battle of Bakhmut, sustaining heavy casualties in their effort to capture the town.

Before the revolt, tensions had been rising for months between the leadership of the Wagner Group and the Russian Ministry of Defense. Prigozhin was savage in his complaints about insufficient support for Wagner operations and the incompetence of senior Russian military leadership. This boiled over last week on June 23, when Prigozhin, claiming attacks on Wagner units by Russian forces, declared, “There are 25,000 of us and we are coming to sort things out ... Those who want to join us, it's time to finish with this mess.” Early the next morning, Wagner forces occupied parts of the major southern Russian city of Rostov-on-Don. Units headed north, toward Moscow.

Russian President Vladimir Putin was clearly alarmed, making a public statement declaring the mutiny treasonous and calling on Russian troops to resist the Wagner forces.

For a few hours, it seemed as though there might be an immediate threat to Putin’s rule. But the mutiny collapsed as quickly as it had exploded. In a deal brokered by Belarusian President (and staunch Putin ally) Aleksandr Lukashenko, Prigozhin agreed to go into exile in Belarus and to order Wagner Group units back to their bases.

Much about the mutiny remains shrouded in mystery. Did Prigozhin have allies in the Russia’s regular military or security services? What did Prigozhin expect to gain by the rebellion? Three of the key players in the denouement — Putin, Prigozhin and Lukashenko —are hardly trustworthy. A great deal of analysis of the coup is, by necessity, speculative. Exactly what will happen now to the Wagner Group remains unclear— as does the duration of any deal Putin may have cut with Prigozhin.

One thing is certain: The timing of the mutiny could not be worse for Moscow. The long-awaited Ukrainian counteroffensive has begun. The operation is in its preliminary stages. Russian forces are dug in, awaiting weeks and months of hard fighting. While the mutiny may not have had much effect on troop deployments (many Wager Group units were removed from the front line after the capture of Bakhmut), it is an astonishing distraction during a period of military peril. Whatever views regular soldiers might have had about of the Wagner mutiny, Prigozhin’s attacks on the competence of the Russian military leadership surely struck home.

It appears that Prigozhin’s mutiny was not aimed at toppling Putin, but in wresting concessions for the Wagner Group from the Russian president. At one important level, Putin emerged victorious from the crisis: He remains in power. But the mutiny was a blow to his prestige and air of invincibility. His relatively modest treatment of Prigozhin — mere exile rather than capture and a trial — suggested Putin believed he held a weak hand. There were no massive public outpourings of support for the Russian president when it looked like the Wagner Group might march on Moscow. Putin, in short, appeared weak. And for autocrats who rule by fear, perceived weakness can be a dangerous thing.

The mutiny is just one more reminder of what a disaster the invasion of Ukraine has been for Russia and Vladimir Putin. The effort to topple the government in Kyiv and replace it with a pro-Moscow puppet regime has been an embarrassing failure. Losses in personnel and equipment have been huge. The very best Russia can hope for at this point is a bloody stalemate. The reputation of the Russian military has been tarnished beyond repair.

Moreover, the war has left NATO stronger than it has been since the end of the Cold War. Finland has joined the organization; Sweden is also poised to do so. Russia has also been weakened by a series of unprecedented economic sanctions.

Putin has weathered all these storms. But the mutiny reminds us that even the strongest of strongmen are vulnerable when events turn decisively against them. Putin’s regime may not be collapsing, but it is showing cracks.

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