Ukrainian Attacks Shatter A Major Myth Of Putin's Regime

• Petro Oleshchuk
• 20.05.2026, 11:34

Drones flying at Moscow have become more than just a military factor.

The situation with Ukraine's strikes on Russian targets, including attacks that increasingly reach Moscow and other symbolically important territories for Russia, demonstrates not only the military vulnerability of the Russian state. It reveals a much deeper problem for the Putin regime. The destruction of the basic mythologeme on which this regime has held on for years. This is the myth that Putin is supposedly the guarantor of security, stability and a peaceful life.

Four years into the war, SBU drones have flown directly into Moscow, destroying the "inviolability" of Putin's "holy city." The capital of the new "empire" that the elderly dictator has been building for decades. And this is a very important, landmark event of this war.

From the very beginning of Putin's regime, its foundation has been the idea of simple exchange. Russians would give up political rights, civil liberties, influence on the government and participation in decision-making, and in return they would receive security, order, stability and relative prosperity. This is what became the informal social contract of the Putin era. It was as if the state was saying to the citizen. Do not interfere in politics, do not ask unnecessary questions, do not go beyond the boundaries of private life, and in return you will be allowed to live in peace.

Putin came to power as an antithesis to the image of the 1990s, which had been forming in the Russian public consciousness for decades. For a significant part of Russians, the "dashing nineties" became a symbol of chaos, gangster strife, economic collapse, war, instability and humiliation. Against this background, the image of Putin was constructed as a man who supposedly brought order. He "defeated Chechnya," "suppressed terrorism," "restored the vertical of power," and "brought back the state." All this became not just a political narrative, but an ideological justification for authoritarianism.

It was under the slogan of order that Putin's regime gradually uprooted the remnants of civil liberties, independent politics, free media, human rights activism, and public autonomy. Each new restriction was explained by the need for security. Each increase in repression was presented as a defense against chaos. Each destruction of political competition was presented as a fight against threats to the state. As a result, Russians were offered the very simple formula that freedom was dangerous, politics was dangerous, democracy led to chaos, and Putin was order.

But this order was not only internal. An important part of Putin's model was an imperial "entertainment program" for the population. Russians were offered not just to live in a relatively well-fed and peaceful country, but also to be proud of its "greatness." Wars against Georgia, intervention in Syria, constant aggressive rhetoric against the West, missile displays, parades, the cult of the army and the cult of World War II. All of this worked as a tool to compensate for the lack of political freedoms. The citizen was told that you don't choose the government, but you belong to a "great power."

The full-scale war against Ukraine was also initially built into this logic. The Russian regime has long tried to present what is happening as if nothing fundamentally changes for most citizens. There is a war going on somewhere, but it is far away. Someone is fighting, but it's mostly "volunteers" who supposedly go to make money. There are troubles, but they don't seem to affect the average person. He should not ask questions, not be interested in politics, not think about the reasons for what is happening, and continue to live as if the war exists only on the television screen.

The war that the Kremlin wanted to keep at a distance from Russian society, however, has gradually begun to return inside Russia itself. First in the form of mobilization, which shattered the myth that war does not concern ordinary citizens. Then in the form of economic consequences, sanctions, rising war costs, deficits, inflationary pressures, and a general degradation of the quality of life. Then in the form of Internet restrictions, blockades, communication outages and new bans, which the authorities explained with "security reasons." And finally, in the form of Ukrainian drones that have begun to fly into Russian targets, including Moscow.

It is here that Putin's construct faces a major internal contradiction. If the Russians have indeed traded freedom for security, where is that security? If they gave up political participation for stability, where is the stability? If they tolerated repression, censorship, arbitrariness, the closure of independent media and the destruction of the opposition for the sake of a "quiet life," why is that quiet life now disappearing?

The crux of the problem for the Kremlin is not just the physical damage from the attacks. Far more important is their symbolic effect. Moscow in the Russian political imagination is not just a capital. It is the center of an empire, the center of power, a space that must be as protected as possible. When war begins to arrive where, according to the logic of Putin's propaganda, it should never have appeared, the idea of the omnipotence of the state is shattered. The Russian citizen sees that the authorities are able to shut down websites, imprison oppositionists, persecute activists, ban speech and control television, but are unable to guarantee him the very security for which he supposedly gave up everything.

This is particularly devastating because for decades Putin's regime has built its legitimacy not on development, not on freedom, not on law, not on the quality of institutions, but precisely on the promise of protection. Putin was not a president of the future, but a president "from trouble." He promised protection from chaos, terrorism, disintegration, revolutions, external enemies and internal traitors. But now Putin's very policies have become a major source of instability for Russia. The war waged by the Kremlin against Ukraine has not strengthened Russia's security, but destroyed it.

Today, it is clear that the Russians did not get the exchange they were promised. They gave up freedom but did not get security. They gave up political rights but did not get peace of mind. They agreed to live under conditions of censorship and fear, but did not receive confidence in the future. They accepted authoritarianism as the price for stability, but got war, drones, mobilization, economic deterioration and an increasingly closed country.

Of course, this does not mean that Putin's regime will collapse immediately. Authoritarian systems rarely fall simply because their ideological underpinnings become contradictory. The Kremlin will try to channel discontent, attribute the attacks to "terrorism," shift responsibility to Ukraine, the West, "traitors," mid-level officials, or the military. Propaganda will convince Russians that everything that is happening is not a consequence of Putin's war, but proof of the need to rally even more around Putin. Repression will increase, and any attempt to ask the question "why did this happen?" will be declared enemy activity.

But the problem is that propaganda can explain a lot of things, but it can't undo personal experience. When one's internet doesn't work, when living standards deteriorate, when drones fly into town, when war ceases to be a TV picture and becomes part of everyday life, the old social contract begins to crack. Even if it doesn't lead to open protest, it undermines the internal confidence in the regime. What emerges is not necessarily rebellion, but doubt. And for a system based on the myth of power, doubt is already dangerous.

Putin's regime is used to demonstrating power through violence. But the strength of a state is not only measured by its ability to destroy other people's cities or suppress its own citizens. It is measured by the ability to provide security, predictability and normalcy. And this is where Putin's Russia is increasingly failing. It is capable of threatening the world, but increasingly unable to protect its own population from the consequences of its own aggression.

Ukrainian drones flying at Russian targets are becoming more than just a military factor. They become a political symbol. They show Russians that the war the Kremlin brought to Ukraine is coming back to Russia. They demonstrate that the state that demanded absolute loyalty in exchange for security can no longer keep its end of the bargain. They shatter the central myth of Putinism, that Putin is equal to order.

This is why the current situation matters not only for the course of the war, but also for the future of the Russian regime itself. The social contract that underpinned Putinism has been effectively destroyed. It can still be covered up with propaganda formulas, repressive apparatus, and the rhetoric of a "besieged fortress." But its internal logic no longer works. Russians gave up their freedom for the sake of a well-fed and peaceful life, but in the end they were deprived of both freedom, peace and confidence in the future.

And this means that the Ukrainian strikes on Russian facilities are not only destroying the infrastructure of war. They are killing one of the key ideological pillars of Putin's regime. It is the belief that authoritarian power can provide security better than freedom, law and responsibility of the state to society.

Petr Oleshchuk, Doctor of Political Science, Professor of Taras Shevchenko National University, specially for Charter97.org.