Vladimir Putin throws a tyrant tantrum — but Russia is big, brutish and bluffing

Russia’s campaign to punish Ukraine for daring to exist is the flailing of a bully, full of rage, devoid of strength.

As it struggles to conquer, Moscow turns to terror, but every strike only hardens Kyiv’s resolve because Ukrainians know letting Russia get its way will not end the suffering — it’ll multiply it.

Some will say: Ukraine stands because we’re helping. But how much are we really? A drip of aid here, a shipment of munitions there — delayed, debated, diluted.

All told, America has spent less than 1% of its federal budget to help the bravest people on Earth defend themselves.

If that fainthearted stream has kept Russia’s army at bay, it doesn’t prove our strength — it demonstrates Moscow’s weakness.

Russia thinks it’s a superpower, but a superpower wouldn’t stall out because someone across the ocean is struggling to help Kyiv while making sure Moscow can save face.

What keeps Ukraine alive is not our help; it’s a people who know what they’re fighting for, facing a brutal colonizer that doesn’t.

Russia’s even run out of basic food staples.

Potatoes are a luxury. Prices have almost tripled in a year, and families are forced to ration.

It’s not a silly grocery-store problem — it’s a window into an economy on the brink, strained by a criminal war of choice, sanctions and decades of embezzlement.

Moscow launched an invasion it thought would be over in days: Soldiers packed parade uniforms and food rations for a week.

But Ukraine refused to surrender, and it all went horribly wrong for Putin.

In failing to win quickly, Russia did more than lose momentum — it lost autonomy. It now takes orders from Beijing. Bloomberg reports 92% of the foreign components found in Russia’s killer drones are of Chinese origin.

On nuclear weapons, Xi Jinping — the “daddy,” to use NATO chief Mark Rutte’s word — made himself abundantly clear: Their use is off the table.

Russia may bluster and threaten, but the decision is no longer Moscow’s to make. The credibility of Russia’s nuclear threat lies in the eyes of the beholder — us. 

A superpower doesn’t beg North Korea for artillery shells and Iran for drone technology.

Moscow is reduced to knocking on the doors of pariah states that once depended on it.

Russia racked up more than a million casualties trying to recolonize Ukraine.

But fear not — the Kremlin has a magic trick up its bloodstained sleeve. Just as it outlaws recessions, it solves its demographic crisis by simply stopping the release of monthly population data.

What about Russia’s storied soft power — its grand ideology, rich heritage and claim to virtue?

Moscow has skillfully exploited Western culture wars, positioning itself as the defender of traditional values to Americans fed up with woke politics. It’s a façade.

Russia has one of the world’s highest divorce rates — 60% higher than the United States’.

Its abortion rate is more than twice that of Ukraine’s.

Barely 1% of the population attended Christmas services last year.

And at the center of it all sits the Russian Orthodox Church, less a religious institution than a state-security affiliate.

When Tucker Carlson mourned the fate of Ukraine’s Moscow Patriarchate, he left out two crucial details.

First, it is Russia — not Ukraine — that has damaged or destroyed more than 600 houses of worship since 2014.

And second, Ukraine isn’t banning religion; it’s evicting spies. In the middle of a war, who can blame Kyiv for trying to ensure priests are serving God, not the FSB?

The collective West accounts for roughly half of global gross domestic product. Russia makes up less than 2%. It’s no superpower — just a declining empire throwing a tantrum.

Its invasion of Ukraine is real, as are the missiles killing innocent children in their sleep.

But its foundation — economic, moral, demographic — is rotten to the core.

And the only thing more dangerous than an aggrieved dictator is a world too polite, too naïve or too afraid to confront him.

Andrew Chakhoyan is a University of Amsterdam academic director and served in the US government at the Millennium Challenge Corporation.