Every month, Russia finds new ways to poke NATO in the ribs: drones straying into Polish airspace, GPS jamming over the Baltics, veiled nuclear threats in Kremlin pressers. To outsiders, this brinkmanship looks like needless risk. Why would Vladimir Putin endanger a clash he cannot win?
The answer: because his regime is bleeding resources at home. To survive, the Kremlin must convert that pain into fear abroad. Prodding the West is not a luxury—it is a necessity. The tactic has three prongs:
Putin’s authority rests on a narrative of siege: Russia as fortress under attack, saved only by his leadership. But fear is perishable. Each provocation offers “proof” that NATO lurks at the gates.
Every provocation becomes a news hook to re-anchor fear, crowd out bad economic data, and repackage sacrifice as patriotism.
Moscow knows it cannot fight NATO head-on. But it can fight inside Western democracies’ parliaments and media. Nuclear hints and “Article 5” scare-talk are not meant to trigger war—they are designed to trigger hesitation.
And it works. German debates over supplying Taurus missiles, U.S. restrictions on Ukraine striking inside Russia, and months-long pauses in EU arms deliveries all trace back to fear of “escalation.” The Kremlin doesn’t need to stop Western aid outright; slowing it is victory enough.
Our September reporting shows the regime is increasingly paying more for less effect—borrowing at 13–14% yields, draining reserves (liquid NWF ≈₽3.9T, projected empty by 2026), and facing energy revenues down ~20% year-on-year. Against that backdrop, provoking NATO serves a dual purpose: it keeps Russians fearful, and it makes Western publics fearful enough to pressure their leaders into delay.
The third prong is invisible to radar but just as potent: disinformation and electoral interference.
In Moldova and Romania, Russian troll farms, AI-generated news outlets, and even Orthodox Church networks have been mobilized to paint NATO as reckless and Ukraine as a lost cause. These campaigns flood voters with the idea that supporting Kyiv risks world war.
When Western citizens absorb that fear, it loops back: parliaments slow weapons, leaders hedge policies. Russian TV then seizes on those headlines—“Europe afraid of escalation”—to reinforce the siege story at home.
No. He cannot win it. What he wants—and desperately needs—is the constant impression of almost-war. Without provocations, Russia’s real crises would dominate the news:
If Russians focus on those numbers, Putin’s narrative collapses. If Westerners realize Russia is weaker than it looks, aid might accelerate.
Hence the logic: keep the fear alive, everywhere, every week.
Russia’s provocations are not bluffs without cost. They are deliberate investments. Each drone in NATO airspace, each nuclear hint, each fake news blast buys Moscow time—time to paper over a failing economy, unsustainable casualty levels, and a shrinking workforce.
Putin doesn’t need World War III. He needs the fear of World War III to outlast his mounting domestic crises. That is why Russia keeps prodding the West: it is not a show of strength, but an admission of fragility.