Parade Without Strength: How the War Against Ukraine Is Changing the Main Symbol of Putin’s Russia
The May 9 parade in Moscow has for many years been more than a state ceremony for Vladimir Putin. It was a political instrument through which the Kremlin showed the army, demonstrated control over society, and once again tied modern Russia to the Soviet victory over Nazi Germany. But the war against Ukraine is gradually changing the very meaning of this ritual. An event that was meant to confirm strength is increasingly revealing the system’s weak points. Time for Action has analyzed why this year’s parade has become much more difficult for the Kremlin than in previous years. The main reason is not only security measures, but the very reality of the war, which the Russian authorities spent years trying to present as controlled and almost victorious.
For more than a quarter of a century, Putin has used Victory Day to build political mythology. In it, Russia is constantly portrayed as a state once again fighting an external threat, while the West is presented as the heir to the same danger the USSR fought in 1941-1945. It is through this logic that the Kremlin explained the full-scale invasion of Ukraine, calling it the “rescue” of Russian speakers from an alleged “Nazi regime” in Kyiv. This construction was meant to work for the domestic audience. It was supposed to convince Russians that the war against Ukraine was not aggression, but a continuation of a historical struggle. But a prolonged war, heavy losses, Ukrainian strikes on Russian military and oil infrastructure, and problems inside Russia itself have made this version less convincing. The most visible signal is the decision to hold the parade without the traditional column of military equipment. For the first time since 2009, there is expected to be neither heavy combat vehicles, nor missile systems, nor other weapons on Red Square items that for years were the main element in the demonstration of strength. Formally, this is explained by security. In reality, it means that Ukraine has forced Russia to take the threat into account even on a day the Kremlin considered almost untouchable. Putin’s spokesman Dmitry Peskov named Ukrainian “terrorist activity” as the reason for reducing the scale of the parade. Behind this wording, the Kremlin hides a wave of drone and missile strikes with which Ukraine attacks Russian oil facilities and military infrastructure. For the Russian authorities, this is especially uncomfortable: a state that promised a quick victory is now forced to restrict its main military-symbolic ceremony because of a possible attack.
Putin has repeatedly claimed that the so-called “special military operation” is allegedly going according to plan. But the format of the parade itself shows otherwise. If everything is truly going according to plan, it is difficult to explain why Moscow cannot calmly hold an event that for decades was presented as proof of the state’s steadfastness. There is another painful point for the Kremlin. The full-scale war against Ukraine has already lasted longer than the 1,418 days during which the Soviet Army fought Germany until its surrender in 1945. For a government that constantly uses the memory of the Second World War, this is a very inconvenient comparison. Instead of a quick victory, Russia has received a prolonged war, exhaustion, strikes on its own territory, and growing dependence on internal force. The Kremlin also tried to amplify the topic of a “truce” on May 8-9. Russia unilaterally announced it for two days, but ignored Ukraine’s call for a ceasefire starting on May 6. After that, Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s statements in Moscow began to be presented as a threat to attack the Russian capital during the ceremonies, although the Ukrainian president was speaking about the fact that Russia itself fears such an attack.
Separately, Russia called on foreign governments to evacuate diplomats and citizens from Kyiv, warning of a possible powerful strike in the event of an attack on Moscow. This looked like an attempt to simultaneously intimidate Ukraine, strengthen its own mobilization rhetoric, and explain extraordinary security measures to Russians. The story of foreign guests was no less telling. Few are expected. The Kremlin’s list mentioned Alexander Lukashenko, Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico, Malaysian King Sultan Ibrahim, and Lao President Thongloun Sisoulith. At the same time, the Kremlin did not clarify whether all of them would attend the parade itself. The absence of Central Asian leaders looks especially noticeable, as Moscow previously tried to show this region as part of its stable influence. This diplomatic restraint matters. A parade that was supposed to demonstrate Russia’s international weight now shows the caution even of states that previously were in no hurry to distance themselves from the Kremlin. For Putin, this is an unpleasant signal the war against Ukraine has not returned Russia to superpower status, but has made its relations more difficult with countries Moscow was used to considering close. Inside Russia, the situation is also becoming more tense. Security is traditionally tightened for Victory Day, but this time another measure was added restrictions on mobile internet. The authorities explain this by threats from Ukraine, but for citizens such restrictions become another reminder that the war, which the Kremlin tried to keep at a distance from everyday life, is gradually entering the country’s internal space. In recent months, signs of discontent among Russians and tension within the elites have appeared more often. Conflicts between different groups in power, in the military leadership, and in the security services are being mentioned. Analysts also speak of the weakening of Putin’s personal authority. This does not mean the rapid fall of the regime, but it shows that the Kremlin needs more and more effort to preserve the old picture of stability.
Reports about strengthened personal security for Putin over fears of a coup or assassination attempt, including with the use of drones, have not been independently confirmed. But the very appearance of such publications fits well into the general atmosphere of distrust, suspicion, and anxiety inside Russia’s ruling circles. Even if these claims require cautious treatment, they show that the image of unshakable power no longer looks as convincing as before. The May 9 parade was supposed to remain a stage of strength for Putin. Now it is increasingly turning into a ceremony that must be protected, restricted, and explained. The absence of heavy equipment, fear of drones, a more modest guest list, mobile internet shutdowns, and talk of tension among the elites create a very different picture. The Kremlin continues trying to speak the language of victory, but the reality of the war against Ukraine increasingly forces it to act in the language of fear, restrictions, and self-defense. This is the main change the symbol that was supposed to confirm the strength of Putin’s system is beginning to show its vulnerability.











