The Russians Know Exactly What They’re Doing

By Will Keys

A well-informed publisher friend recently asked me a simple question:
“Are you still sure the Russians know what they’re doing?”

My answer is yes—and, if anything, even more so today than a year ago.

Readers of Africa Unauthorised understand better than most that the Western mainstream media long ago abandoned reporting in favour of narrative manufacture. Africa has lived under this phenomenon for decades. Whether the topic was Rhodesia, Angola, South West Africa, Libya, or now Ukraine, the pattern never shifts: the conclusion is drafted first, and the “news” is bent to match it.

The BBC probably taught the world the art of twisting the truth to fit the views of their masters of the media universe, the latest example being the splicing of the Trump speech to make it look like he was inciting a mob to violence.

Ukraine is only the latest stage for this theatre. Analysts in London, Brussels, and Washington have persisted with tales of Ukrainian momentum even as the opposite unfolded. Withdrawals became “strategic repositioning,” losses became “symbolic adjustments,” and every promised turning point dissolved into yet another disappointment. Through it all, the MSM reassured its audience that victory remained just one more shipment away.

I have no enthusiasm for propaganda from any direction—whether Western moralising or Russian bravado. But accuracy is accuracy, and over time Russian military communiqués—spare, understated, and sometimes painfully laconic—have aligned far more closely with actual events than the exuberant inventions of the MSM. And there is one constant feature: the MSM enthusiastically circulates alleged Russian casualty numbers, but jealously hides or deflects discussion of Ukrainian losses, which are by all sober estimates extraordinarily high.

For balance and benchmarking, I sometimes compare the Russia–Ukraine information war with the polemic situation in the United States. When President Trump makes a statement, I find myself believing ninety percent of what he says; conversely, I believe around ten percent of what the Democrats claim. Two very different theatres—Eastern Europe and American domestic politics—but the same principle applies: the Russian and Trump versions of events tend to ring true, while the Ukrainian and Western European narratives too often collapse under scrutiny.

The slow, deliberate nature of the Russian advance is easily ridiculed by commentators who have never studied a war of attrition. But Russia is not chasing headlines. It is grinding down an army. It moves when it chooses, not when a newsroom demands velocity. It prioritises percentages, not theatrics.

Russia, meanwhile, proceeds with a steady strategic logic. It calculates, waits, probes, advances—and repeats the cycle. Slowly, methodically, and with clear purpose.

That purpose is reinforced by a military ethos very different from that of the West: Russian officers are expected to lead from the front. It is an old-fashioned standard—one Western forces once held themselves to—but it focuses every soldier’s attention. I do not argue that Russians are somehow superior fighters. In fact, lacking the American tradition of Audie Murphy–style individual courage, they are arguably less effective on a man-for-man basis. But they possess something NATO and EU forces do not: they believe, profoundly, that they are fighting an existential threat to their country. And when a soldier believes he is defending his civilisation, his endurance increases in ways no training syllabus can replicate.

This reality was brought home to me recently at a Dining-In Night, where the guest of honour—the retired Australian Commander of International Operations under NATO—delivered a polished, well-measured speech. Afterward, I approached him privately. I told him his address was excellent but omitted a third of the essential truth. As I elaborated, I could see in his expression that he was already fully informed.

He concluded our discussion by saying, “Russian soldiers are not invincible.”
I told him I agreed entirely, but added the one fact that reshapes the whole equation:
“They’re not invincible—but they believe they’re fighting for Russia’s survival. And that makes all the difference.”

Meanwhile, Western governments wrestle with political fatigue, economic strain, and dwindling public patience. Ukraine struggles with manpower shortages, logistical collapse, entrenched corruption at all levels, and a strategic position that weakens by the week. The MSM cannot disguise these truths forever, no matter how many linguistic contortions it performs.

And now we arrive at the present moment.
Assuming—as every indicator strongly suggests—that Pokrovsk and Kupiansk have fallen, the pattern is unmistakable. Each collapse accelerates the next. Each loss undermines Kyiv’s bargaining power. Each Russian consolidation brings the war closer to a conclusive end.

So to answer my friend plainly:
Yes. The Russians know exactly what they’re doing.

And the battlefield—not the MSM—continues to prove it with every passing week.

By Will Keys