Inflation as a Hidden Tax on the Poor
Inflation in Russia remains high, driven upward by massive military spending that injects money into the economy without a corresponding productive output. When the government pays soldiers and workers at arms factories wages inflated by bonuses, but those wages do not generate additional consumer goods, the inevitable result is inflation. Money competes for the same available goods, prices rise, and real purchasing power declines.
For the less affluent segments of the population—those dependent on fixed salaries in the civilian public sector, retirees whose pensions do not keep pace with inflation, and workers in sectors that do not benefit from military bonuses—this inflation represents a silent but very real impoverishment. It is a way for Putin to make his own people pay for the war without them clearly realizing it: not through an explicit tax, but through the gradual erosion of their standard of living.
The 21% policy rate: Who does it really hurt?
The Central Bank of Russia has maintained a key interest rate of around 21% in an attempt to curb inflation and defend the ruble. This rate is among the highest among the world’s major economies. Its effect is to make credit prohibitively expensive for businesses and households seeking loans to invest or consume. Small and medium-sized enterprises cannot finance their growth. Households cannot access reasonable mortgage loans. The productive civilian economy has been starved of funds.
Only the military-industrial sector, financed directly by government contracts on terms not dictated by market rates, escapes this constraint. A dual economy is taking shape: a war sector thriving on state injections, and a civilian sector withering under prohibitive interest rates. This is not an effective war economy. It is a destructive war economy that is eating away at its own foundations.
A 21% benchmark interest rate is the Central Bank’s implicit acknowledgment that the economy is in danger. When such an aggressive remedy is prescribed, it means the illness is serious. This rate reveals what Russian propaganda conceals: the economy is not doing well, and the Kremlin’s “doctors” don’t have many options left.
Russia's Regions: The Real Victims of the War Economy
When Moscow Plunders the Regions
Russia’s war economy does not affect everyone equally. Moscow and St. Petersburg are where wealth, capital, and the beneficiaries of defense contracts are concentrated. The outlying regions—those that provide the bulk of the soldiers and suffer the most in terms of human losses—face a double burden: the plundering of their budgets by the federal government and the loss of their youngest workers, who have been mobilized or killed in Ukraine.
According to dn.gov.ua on June 22, 2026, Russian regions are drowning in debt because of the war. Federal transfers to the regions have been cut to finance central military spending. Regional governors find themselves managing growing deficits with reduced resources. Some regions are borrowing at high interest rates to maintain basic services. This is a political time bomb: as regional public services deteriorate, frustration among local populations grows.
The Geography of Death and Debt
Casualties in Ukraine are not socially homogeneous. Russian soldiers come disproportionately from poor regions—Buryatia, Dagestan, Tula, the Ural and Siberian regions—drawn by military bonuses that sometimes amount to ten times the local wage. It is these very same regions that are seeing their budgets cut and their debts rise. The correlation between “sending the most soldiers” and “receiving the least economic compensation” is politically explosive—if the population even has the means to voice it.
Official Russian propaganda perpetuates the myth of a just and widely supported war. But in the villages of impoverished regions where coffins arrive regularly, where healthcare services are deteriorating, and where public transportation is being cut due to budget shortages—this myth is becoming increasingly difficult to sustain. I don’t know if this will translate into political opposition. But the objective conditions for such opposition are mounting.
I often think of the women in Russia’s impoverished regions—mothers, wives, sisters—who receive visits from civil registry officers bearing the death notices. These women are not waging war. They are paying the price for it. Their suffering deserves to be acknowledged, even when one opposes their government’s policies.
Russia's Public Debt: A Burden for Three Generations
How much has been spent so far?
Since the start of the full-scale invasion in February 2022, Russia has committed hundreds of billions of dollars in additional military spending. The National Wealth Fund, which served as the government’s main financial buffer, has been substantially depleted. Public debt has risen. And with an additional 4 to 5 trillion rubles projected for 2026, this trend is accelerating.
This spending is not “wasted” in the sense that it funds real soldiers, real tanks, and real ammunition. But it creates no sustainable productive economic value. A tank destroyed in Ukraine has not contributed to the productivity of the Russian economy. A soldier killed on the front lines leaves a void in his family and in his home region. The billions spent on ammunition will not fund tomorrow’s pensions or the infrastructure for the next generation.
What Future Generations Will Pay Back
The debt created by this war will be repaid—if Russia survives this conflict in one form or another, if financial markets regain confidence in it, and if productive investments resume. These conditions are all uncertain, but let’s assume they materialize. Even in this optimistic scenario, the Russian generations coming of age in the coming decades will inherit massive debt, dilapidated infrastructure, human capital depleted by death and exile, and a shattered international reputation.
That is what it means to “burn the future.” It is not a metaphor. It is an accurate description of what Putin is doing to Russia with his additional 4 to 5 trillion rubles in war spending in 2026. He is buying time for his war with the money of his successors and their children.
There is a line that Putin has crossed without many people realizing it: he no longer governs for the Russians of today, much less for those of tomorrow. He governs for his own political survival and for the fulfillment of his historic expansionist project. Russia is no longer a state that serves its citizens—it is an instrument of his personal will.
Sanctions: The Lock That Holds
The 21st Package: Every Layer Counts
Against the backdrop of a skyrocketing war budget and a structurally exhausted economy, maintaining and strengthening Western sanctions is of paramount importance. The 21st sanctions package proposed by the EU, according to Daily Finland on June 27, 2026, and the extension of the entire sanctions regime through 2027, confirmed by Euromaidan Press on June 26, 2026, are part of a strategy of gradual strangulation.
Each additional sanctions package seeks to close the loopholes identified in previous packages. Russia is creative in finding alternative routes—third countries, shell companies, and transactions in non-dollar currencies. But each additional closure increases transaction costs, reduces margins, and complicates the financing of the war effort. It is a Sisyphean task, but a necessary one.
The Oil Embargo: The Potential Knockout Blow
The pressure from the Baltic states to accelerate the Russian oil embargo, as reported by the Kyiv Post on June 27, 2026, points to the most powerful economic weapon still available against Russia. Oil revenues account for a significant portion of Russia’s federal revenue. An effective embargo—one that shuts out alternative markets such as India and China, or imposes penalties on companies that purchase Russian oil—strikes directly at the financial lifeblood of the war.
This is not possible today, due to a lack of consensus within the EU and the commercial interests of certain member states. But momentum is building. Every additional month of war, every new sanctions package, and every documented atrocity in Ukraine strengthens the camp of those who want to go further. The economic history of this conflict has yet to be written.
Russia is financing its war by selling its oil, and we are buying it—some EU countries, directly or indirectly. There is a fundamental hypocrisy in declaring a desire to help Ukraine while simultaneously financing its oppressor. An oil embargo is not just one option among many: it is a moral obligation for those who wish to act in accordance with their statements.
The Oligarchy and War: Who Really Benefits?
The Winners of Russia’s War Economy
While ordinary Russians and outlying regions are paying the price of the war, there is one group that stands to gain: those linked to the military-industrial complex. Companies that produce tanks, ammunition, missiles, and drones—Rostec, Uralvagonzavod, Almaz-Antey, and others—benefit from massive government contracts, priority access to raw materials, and preferential access to state credit. Their executives, often close to those in power, are enriching themselves in the shadow of the war.
This class of war profiteers has a clear interest in the conflict’s continuation. It constitutes a political support base for Putin that goes beyond ideological nationalism: a self-interested economic base whose prosperity depends directly on the continuation of the war effort. This is one of the reasons why scenarios for a negotiated end to the war initiated by Russia are more complicated than they seem: powerful economic actors have a vested interest in the war continuing.
War corruption: a multiplier of waste
The Russian war economy also suffers from a structural problem that affects all partially planned economies: corruption. Documented reports—sometimes from Russian sources themselves—indicate that funds allocated to the war effort are being embezzled at every level of the supply chain. Invoices for nonexistent equipment, substandard goods substituted for contractual specifications, combat bonuses not paid to the families of fallen soldiers—corruption is an invisible tax on Russian military effectiveness.
This phenomenon is not new in the Russian military—it has been documented for decades—but it takes on particular significance when budget flows become massive. The additional 4 to 5 trillion rubles announced for 2026 will not translate into 4 to 5 trillion in additional military capability: a significant portion will be absorbed by systemic corruption. This is a factor that diminishes the strength of Russia’s war economy, and analysts must factor it into their assessments.
Corruption is Ukraine’s silent ally in this war. Every ruble stolen by a corrupt official is one ruble less for ammunition. I do not rejoice in corruption in general—it is a scourge that destroys societies. But in this specific context, it reduces the effectiveness of the Russian war machine. It is a bitter but real irony.
International Aid to Ukraine: The Other Side of the Equation
What the West Has Provided in Absolute Terms
Any analysis of Russia’s war economy would be incomplete without mentioning the other side of the equation: international aid to Ukraine. Since 2022, Western allies have provided Ukraine with tens of billions of dollars in military, financial, and humanitarian aid. The Kiel Institute—whose analyses of aid to Ukraine have become the standard of reference—has documented this flow in detail. This aid has enabled Ukraine to sustain its economy, finance its public budget, and fight against an adversary that is far larger economically.
The combination of economic pressure on Russia and economic support for Ukraine lies at the heart of the Western strategy. It aims to narrow the gap between the capabilities of the two belligerents—a gap that, without this support, would be overwhelmingly in Russia’s favor. Maintaining and increasing this support for Ukraine is therefore intrinsically linked to the economic strategy targeting Russia’s 4 to 5 trillion rubles in additional spending: the stronger Ukraine is economically, the more it can withstand Russian military spending.
Allied economic coordination: room for improvement
Coordinating economic aid to Ukraine among allies remains a challenge. Duplication, gaps, and differences in approach between U.S. policy, European policy, and national policies create inefficiencies that more robust coordination mechanisms could reduce. Progress has been made—the creation of multilateral coordination platforms, the use of frozen Russian assets to finance aid to Ukraine—but there is still room for improvement.
The Ankara summit provides an opportunity to address this economic dimension of allied solidarity as well. Coordinating sanctions, coordinating aid to Ukraine, and coordinating investments in defense production: these three dimensions form a coherent whole that the Alliance should address as a single strategic issue, not as three separate dossiers managed by three different bureaucracies.
Aid to Ukraine is not charity. It is an investment in collective security. Every euro spent to support the Ukrainian economy is a euro that enables Ukraine to continue fighting, thereby sparing the West from having to do so directly. It is one of the best returns on strategic investment in recent history.
Frozen Russian Assets: An Underutilized Economic Weapon
300 billion euros working for Ukraine
Since 2022, approximately 300 billion euros in assets belonging to the Russian Central Bank have been frozen in Western financial institutions, primarily in Belgium via Euroclear. These assets, which represent a portion of Russia’s foreign exchange reserves accumulated prior to the sanctions, are frozen but not confiscated—a point that has long been a subject of debate among allies. In late 2024, the EU and the G7 decided to use the interest generated by these assets—approximately 3 billion euros per year—to fund aid to Ukraine.
This decision is symbolically significant and financially useful, but it remains insufficient. Advocates of a more aggressive use of these assets—their total confiscation and transfer to Ukraine—argue that Russia’s aggression justifies this exceptional measure. Opponents fear setting legal and diplomatic precedents. As of June 2026, this debate remains unresolved, and the 300 billion euros remain, for the most part, an economic force waiting to be fully mobilized.
Three hundred billion euros in Russian assets frozen in Europe. This is the money from Putin’s war, accumulated through our energy purchases. Using these assets to finance Ukraine’s reconstruction would not constitute arbitrary confiscation—it would be a perfectly justified form of historical reparations. The legal hesitation to take this step seems to me disproportionate to the moral stakes involved.
Conclusion: The economic countdown has begun
What the 4–5 trillion rubles really signal
The announcement of an additional 4 to 5 trillion rubles in war spending in 2026 is not a show of strength. It is an admission of necessity. If the Russian military were as successful as the propaganda claims, it wouldn’t need that much additional money. If ammunition and equipment were arriving in sufficient quantities, the budget wouldn’t be spiraling out of control. If human casualties were manageable, bonuses and compensation wouldn’t be draining the coffers so severely.
These additional 4 to 5 trillion rubles paint a picture of a war that is consuming more than anticipated, with military results falling short of expectations. It is the arithmetic of failure, dressed up as military grandeur. And it is Moscow that is burning its own future to finance it.
What the West Must Do with This Information
The fact that the Russian economy is burning through its future to finance an unsustainable war is no reason to relax. It is a reason to ramp up the pressure. The moment when economic pressure becomes decisive—when it forces the Russian regime to make impossible trade-offs—may be near. Perhaps not as near as we’d like. But it is inevitable if we stay the course.
Maintaining sanctions, increasing aid to Ukraine, and strengthening NATO’s eastern flank: these are the three legs of the strategic tripod that can turn Putin’s additional 4 to 5 trillion rubles into the economic epitaph of his war-mongering madness. The West has the means. Does it have the will? That, and only that, is the real question.
An additional four to five trillion rubles. An 80-billion deficit. Regions in debt. Bonds plummeting. These are the numbers behind Putin’s madness. The future he is burning away belongs to millions of Russians who did not choose this war. The West must keep up the pressure until that fire burns itself out for lack of fuel.
Signed, Maxime Marquette, columnist
Sources
Primary sources
United24 Media: Russia’s budget deficit exceeds $80 billion — June 23, 2026
Moscow Times RU: Russian bonds plummet amid plans to increase war spending — June 22, 2026
dn.gov.ua: Russian Regions Drowning in Debt Due to the War — June 22, 2026
Secondary Sources
Foreign Affairs Forum: The Russian War Economy — Kiel Institute — June 23, 2026
The Economist: Russia’s War Economy Is in Trouble but Won’t Collapse — June 22, 2026
Euromaidan Press: EU to Maintain Anti-Russia Sanctions Through 2027 — June 26, 2026
Kyiv Post: The Baltic States Urge the EU to Speed Up the Oil Embargo — June 27, 2026
This content was created with the help of AI.