Ukraine’s Kursk Incursion: P.R. Stunt or Strategic Turnaround?

It is impossible to understand war without studying history. There are an infinite number of variables in human conflict, and outcomes cannot be predicted by simply using formulas; however, because certain patterns repeat themselves, historical analogies can help us to understand current events.

It appeared recently that Russia was winning the war with Ukraine. What began as a war of movement, in which Russia’s initial thrusts towards Kiev were repulsed, devolved into a war of attrition, much as World War I and World War II did in the last century.

Russia took a while to get its act together, but it eventually did, particularly after the mobilization of 300,000 reservists in the fall of 2022. While distant, the end appeared inevitable, owing to Russia’s advantages in its economy, population, troops, natural resources, and industrial capacity.

The attrition phase of the war has been a brutal slog. The dominant images consist of drones dropping explosive shells on unsuspecting men below, villages torn apart by artillery resembling the surface of the moon, and small units unwittingly marching to their deaths at the hands of invisible enemies using mines and missiles.

Things Have Been Speeding Up

After the failure of Ukraine’s much-hyped summer offensive in 2023, Ukraine was forced to settle into a defensive posture. Such an approach is generally wise in a war of attrition, as it maximizes the value of limited manpower, equipment, and ammunition. But a defense can only take so much.

Since the beginning of this year, Ukraine’s shortages became manifest, and its defensive strategy began to unravel. Ukraine has lost terrain and large numbers of troops in every sector of the front. Fortress towns that Ukraine controlled since the beginning of the Donbass uprising in 2014—such as Avdeyevka or “New York,” a Ukrainian town named in honor of the Big Apple—have fallen in quick succession, along with dozens of nondescript villages.

Losses of men and terrain have gotten so bad that President Zelensky, an eternal promoter of Ukrainian victory, has suggested peace negotiations would likely happen this fall.

A Surprise Raid

Kursk was the site of the largest tank battle of all time during World War II. There, the Russians repulsed a German offensive in 1943, leading to the eventual destruction of the Wehrmacht’s Army Group Center. Although Kursk is no stranger to war, until now it has been spared most of the effects of the Russo-Ukrainian conflict.

Many observers, including many Ukrainians, have criticized the recent Kursk incursion as a suicide mission that wasted critical reserves, while others paint it as a strategic coup that achieved operational success and surprise. Like much in war, the full impact of these events will only be clear with time. Even the size and scale of the Kursk assault remains unclear. Russian sources say it began as a task force of 1,000 or so men. Others say it may be considerably larger. The fog of war is real.

The attack was surprising not least because it occurred in the shadow of considerable and recent Ukrainian losses. The attack also highlights the controversial appointment of Alexander Syrski as head of the Ukrainian military. He is reportedly profligate in his expenditure of Ukrainian lives earning him the sobriquet “The Butcher.” The Kursk operation is no exception.

The attack suggests something more than mere butchery, even if heavy losses were predictable. It shows that Syrski is not some unimaginative mediocrity bound to rigid Soviet or NATO doctrine; rather, the attack, even if ultimately doomed, manifests surprise, strict adherence to operational security, and audacity.

Ukraine’s raid seems like an extremely upscaled version of the occasional attacks targeting the border city of Belgorad. In Kursk, as in those earlier attacks, there are reports that the Ukrainian Army is committing acts of sabotage and terrorism, including the deliberate targeting of civilians. It is not clear if this is merely incidental to military objectives or the main effort.

Whether official policy limits action to military targets or not, the intended message of the attack is the same and is pretty obvious: Russia is weaker than it looks and cannot protect its people.

Thus, the strategic center of gravity for the operation is public opinion, i.e., morale. First, the attack aims to degrade Russian morale, particularly if Russia mandates a new round of mobilization. Second, it is a demonstration of resolve and effectiveness that Ukraine hopes will encourage western leaders to continue to give it substantial aid.

A Moment of Truth For Both Sides

Russia has responded with an “all hands on deck” posture. The state can now use its large conscript army, in addition to the FSB and other assets, because the attack is taking place in territorial Russia. Even the remnants of the Wagner Group are getting in on the action.

The outcome of this battle will loom large in determining which of the two big stories about the war is correct. Russia claims that it is prosecuting the final stages of a war of attrition against an exhausted and undermanned Ukrainian military. Ukraine and its supporters, by contrast, describe a struggling Russia that is low on reserves and equipment which will now have to stop its offensive across the entire front in order to respond to the Kursk incursion.

I am strongly inclined to believe the former account is closer to the truth. Nothing about Ukraine’s actions since the failed 2023 summer offensive shows that the constraints it faces—flagging Western support, insufficient ammunition, inadequate training, and enormous and unsustainable casualties—have been resolved in its favor. Similarly, the accelerating losses of town after town in Russia’s recent offensive cannot be reconciled with the claim that Russia has a shortage of arms, equipment, and men, or, even more ridiculously, that Ukraine is somehow better positioned than Russia to sustain a war of attrition.

What does make sense, however, is that Ukraine’s political and military leadership are not entirely irrational, even if many are avaricious and amoral. They are likely trying to obtain some symbolic and actual leverage over Russia in order to maximize Ukraine’s position in future peace negotiations.

Kursk has value. It contains both a nuclear power plant, which is vulnerable to sabotage, as well as a critical metering station for Russia’s natural gas exports. Even if Ukraine is generally losing, there may be value in acquiring a few strategic assets, making Russian public opinion less confident in their wartime leadership, and making the war more costly for the average Russian.

When this war eventually ends, Ukraine will lose some of its territory, including lands already occupied by Russian forces. But whether it must also observe a large demilitarized zone, turn over its wartime leaders for trial, abandon its many foreign volunteers, forsake NATO membership, or otherwise participate in ritual humiliation depends a lot on whether it can make the future of the conflict costly to the Russian leadership and ordinary Russians.

A small battlefield success may also pave the way to loosening internal Ukrainian resistance to a deal. Perhaps it was too dangerous and humiliating for Zelensky and his western bosses to seek a reprieve amidst extensive battlefield failures, but a small success may facilitate concessions that could not otherwise be made without risking a coup or some other violent end for the negotiators. Even if the Kursk incursion is completely turned back, Ukraine can console itself that it fought well and fought to the end.

While this was likely the operation’s intent, there seems to be an equal risk that this assault will inevitably fail, while simultaneously enraging Russians, much as the 9/11 attacks galvanized American resolve in the 2000s. One would rightly think Ukrainian conventional forces attacking Russia, augmented by American mercenaries and using American equipment, would be the worst crossing of a “red line” yet.

An Auspicious Historical Analogy

While there are parallels with World War II’s Dieppe Raid and the Battle of the Bulge, in terms of strategic impact, I see important similarities with the end of the 1973 Yom Kippur War.

Egypt began the war by seizing a portion of the Sinai Peninsula, which it had lost in the Six-Day War of 1967. Its forces initially found success when they secretly crossed the canal and inflicted massive casualties on the Israelis with their Russian-supplied surface-to-air and anti-tank missiles. The war dragged on for weeks, and Israel was unable to dislodge Egyptian forces on the eastern side of the Suez Canal.

After repulsing a large Egyptian armored thrust, the IDF, under the command of Ariel Sharon, crossed the canal and attacked westward into Egypt. This expedition began to wreak havoc on Egyptian supply lines, surface-to-air missile sites, and other military infrastructure. Soon, by heading north, the IDF had cut off Egyptian forces on the east side of the Suez Canal and found themselves within 60 miles of Cairo.

As the Israelis expanded their bridgehead supporting the western counterattack, Egyptian forces remained entrenched on the eastern side of the Suez Canal. Both groups of forces—Israelis on Egyptian territory in the west and Egyptians on the disputed Sinai in the east—risked being cut off by their adversary. This condition of mutual risk, which was amplified by the unexpectedly high casualties on both sides, was one of the key foundations for the ceasefire agreement the belligerents reached in October of 1973. Without mutual risk and, arguably, mutual success, it is doubtful either side would have backed down.

The current war has been costly to both sides, but it is becoming intolerable for Ukraine. The country is nearly destroyed and will be completely so if this war drags on any further. One can hope that this latest offensive will also function as a prelude to a permanent peace treaty, but this may be too optimistic. It seems equally likely that it will simply convince Russia to continue its war of attrition until Ukraine unconditionally surrenders.

Giving up land would be a bitter pill for Ukraine, but authentic nations can endure a loss of territory, just as France remained France after losing the Alsace-Lorraine in the Franco-Prussian War. This ancient nation had something missing in the American doctrines of war and foreign policy, which is some framework for when to cut its losses. For us and our client states, this is usually done hastily and only in extremis. This is why our wars in Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan dragged on interminably, even when it was clear that nothing resembling victory was in sight.

Just as we can learn about war by studying history, we can also learn about peace. And one such lesson is that it is better that a nation and its people survive rather than destroy themselves “on principle” in a hopeless war of attrition over disputed territories. Time will tell whether Ukraine’s latest offensive sets the conditions for peace or simply poisons the well with Russia and accelerates its army’s unsustainable losses across the front.

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Christopher Roach is an adjunct fellow of the Center for American Greatness and an attorney in private practice based in Florida. He is a double graduate of the University of Chicago and has previously been published by The Federalist, Takimag, Chronicles, the Washington Legal Foundation, the Marine Corps Gazette, and the Orlando Sentinel. The views presented are solely his own.