Russia isn’t collapsing—America’s Russia policy is

Russia isn’t – A long-running narrative that “Russia is finished” has persisted for decades, even as sanctions, diplomacy, and politically constrained scholarship have failed to produce the collapse Washington seemed to anticipate. The result has been a distorted Russia poli
In Moscow, life keeps moving forward even as pundits in the United States insist the end is near.
On June 12. 2026. President Vladimir Putin attended a Moscow ceremony awarding state prizes in Science and Technology. Literature and the Arts. and Human Rights. Humanitarian and Charitable Activities—an image of a state projecting order and continuity. The contrast is stark to a different kind of story that has been running for more than two decades across American media and academia: the repeated claim that Russia is on the brink of collapse.
“Russia is finished,” The Atlantic wrote on its May 2001 cover. The headline was wrong, but it proved catchy. Over the years, the refrain has been repeated “with regular frequency” by experts, academics, and writers—often with the same confident promise: that Russia will finally break.
That confidence has turned into something more dangerous than bad forecasting. The argument now is not simply that Russia has survived. It’s that Washington’s ability to understand Russia has eroded, and with it, the quality of U.S. policy.
The case being made centers on a chain of distortions. The piece traces it through what it calls the foreign-policy “Blob,” describing a cocktail of groupthink powered by anti-intellectualism in the second Trump administration, wartime cancel culture, and dishonest sourcing.
In that environment, the sanctions did not deliver what many predicted—or what officials sometimes implied would eventually happen. The sanctions did not permanently reduce “the ruble to rubble,” as then-President Biden prematurely boasted. Even the combined might of the United States and its allies could not isolate “collapsing” Russia from the rest of the world.
The underlying promise—an abyss close enough to push—kept feeding wasteful spending, misguided diplomacy, and even attacks on free speech on U.S. soil.
Russia’s resilience is part of why the collapse narrative keeps failing. The country’s economy has shown surprising ability to withstand sanctions of historic proportions. While the Russian military has been “stuck in the blood and mud in Ukraine,” it has repeatedly adapted rather than collapsed.
Diplomacy, too, has been moving where Western punditry assumed it would stall. Russia’s diplomacy is described as making headway in the Global South, where Russian state–affiliated media are important players and student exchange programs are in full swing.
Inside Russia. the piece argues. civilians live relatively normal lives and are not preparing to rise up against the Kremlin with pitchforks. It points to the reality that life goes on in a country under war: many Russians enjoy new Hollywood releases. chic cafés. and exhibitions. even as Russian cities are bombed and the economy slows down.
The result is a feedback loop that is hard to break. Russia keeps chugging along, pundits keep churning out doomsayings, and each new prediction becomes fuel for the next.
The piece also links that loop to a logic of propaganda. It argues that when producing propaganda. the temptation is to paint an elected enemy as “too strong and too weak”—an eternal weak-strong adversary that needs only a little push to disappear. It credits Italian philosopher Umberto Eco’s essay “Ur-Fascism” with describing how propaganda can frame an enemy this way.
For the foreign-policy “Blob,” the argument goes, an enemy that never quite collapses is useful. It can justify the military-industrial complex and keep content factories running, providing endless material even when the predicted outcome does not arrive.
That dependence, the piece says, has shaped not just policy talking points but the institutions that produce knowledge. It describes a field of Russia studies in the United States that it calls securitized. with key programs tied to the Department of Defense or funded by it. It argues that this legacy produces a lopsided analysis that can miss Russian society.
The article then zooms in on one example: the “decolonization” boom of 2022–23. During that period. many pages of good repute—including The Atlantic—argued the United States should go abroad to destroy the monster of Russian imperialism by breaking Russia apart along its ethnic lines. treating collapse as if it were an open door.
Decolonization forums were hosted at platforms like the Hudson Institute, with foundations and pundits appearing across the marketplace of ideas. Many organizers were eager to tap the robust grant-making system—like the late USAID—designed to advance U.S. power around the world. Unlike the decolonial movements of the 1970s, the decolonizers here, the piece says, were excited to work with U.S. security services and sought funding and support openly.
But the support did not translate into Russia falling apart. The piece says it was odd to expect concrete results from groups trying to win Western support by promoting Manchurian separatists during an event in Kyoto. or by calling for a formation of an independent Novgorod (described as a city within western Russia) with an economy based on “trade with the Hanseatic League. ” which the piece says has been defunct since 1669.
For the same reason. the story says. any anthropologist or sociologist focused on Russia could likely explain the absurdity of trying to break Russia apart—pointing to limited support for separatists inside Russia. the dominance of ethnic Russians in many “ethnic minority” regions. and the Kremlin’s tight hold on minority elites. The piece adds an example: Russia’s defense minister comes from the ethnically Turkic Tuva region. where his family long enjoyed elite status. It also suggests that many in Russia’s ethnic minorities are profiting from the Kremlin’s war.
Then it turns to the political aftermath in Washington. The second coming of Trump and the ensuing collapse of USAID with other grantmaking institutions did not improve the situation. The money might have stopped flowing toward “clearly bizarre initiatives. ” the piece says. but it also stopped flowing toward rigorous study because of the new administration’s apparent anti-intellectual bent.
In an environment described as hostile to expertise. it says. departments dedicated to Russia studies at think tanks and universities should have been strengthened—but instead many are shutting down or getting defunded. It says some leading centers of knowledge on Russia, like the Wilson Center, were shuttered by DOGE.
It also says the administration cut the FLAS funding, prompting even elite Ivies to scale back their Russia research.
Another shift came from isolation on both sides. The article says Russia itself became increasingly more isolated from Western researchers beginning in 2014 and worsening after 2022. Institutions on both sides broke contact: Russian institutions came out in support of Putin’s invasion of Ukraine (whether willingly or not). while Western institutions could not let that slide.
That produced a status quo where many Western Russianists were de facto. and often officially. banned from the country they study. The piece adds that Russia banned the Association for Slavic, East European, and Eurasian Studies, the chief U.S. conference for such research. It says very few American experts can safely travel to Russia. and that Moscow discourages Russian officials and experts from speaking to Americans unless those Americans are alt-right influencers like Candace Owens or Andrew Tate.
On the U.S. side, it describes an atmosphere that can constrain who is allowed to be heard. It says American institutions—including Yale University and even the Wild Salmon Studies Center (yes)—have been designated as “undesirable. ” meaning interaction could lead to criminal prosecution. It calls this a knowledge iron curtain being constructed by Moscow.
At the same time, it argues that wartime cancel culture exists inside Western politics too. It points to EU practices. especially in the Baltic States. saying Estonia deported a respected Russian-Australian historian for giving a Russian-language talk on North Korea. It also says the idea of rejecting even anti-war Russians occasionally appears in the U.S. citing 2023 PEN America. where a panel of exiled Russian writers was canceled due to fears of Ukrainian boycott. prompting journalist M. Gessen to quit the PEN board in protest.
The piece ties these pressures to who ends up shaping public understanding. It argues that what the American public and policymakers still see—because the field is underfunded and politically constrained—is a shrinking set of “politically correct” sources of Russia knowledge. It says the options narrow toward hawkish exiles. and sometimes toward Eastern Europeans willing to toe the party line with maximalist positions and hopes of near-collapse.
Eastern European experts. the piece says. often claim unique expertise because they have been on the receiving end of Kremlin imperialism for many years. It adds that this can come with a desire to see Russia collapse. It describes a Russia-studies approach popular in Eastern Europe now aimed at “decentering” Russians. with a refrain that to understand Russia one must listen not to Russians but to Ukrainians or other victims of Russia. It questions the analytical soundness of that approach. arguing that. just as Westerners do not expect Vietnamese or Iranians to have the best insights into American domestic affairs.
The article also portrays an especially influential niche: exiles who are anti-Kremlin activists. It says many of those experts’ careers effectively depend on a collapse of Putinism—and perhaps Russia itself—within their lifetimes. As an example. it cites exiled politician Ilya Ponomarev. who said those exiles can only return to Russia “through bayonets. ” meaning a Western military intervention. The piece then says bayonets are not coming anytime soon. leaving underfunded. disunited. and depressed Russian opposition in exile with hope.
And in that atmosphere, it says, hope drives assertions about inevitable collapse—while rational analysis becomes tainted by political objectives.
That is the core danger the piece sees. The U.S. is discouraged from learning about Russia, while Russian intellectuals are discouraged from helping the U.S. learn about Russia. A fertile ground forms for baseless speculation and wishful thinking about a nearing collapse.
In the end. the story argues. the cottage industry of predicting Russia’s collapse reflects a broader vulnerability in the Western intellectual scene: an inability and unwillingness to imagine a sustainable alternative model to capitalist liberal democracy. citing British philosopher Mark Fisher’s concept of “Capitalist Realism.”.
The piece insists it is not saying Putin’s Russia is philosophically anti-capitalist or that it is outside European intellectual tradition. It says the war is driven primarily by “hyper-capitalist mechanics” of huge payouts and debt forgiveness for frontline soldiers. reinforced by an economy that rewards investment into the ever-expanding military-industrial complex. It adds that even pro-Kremlin intellectuals, including Alexander Dugin, see themselves as part of a European intellectual tradition.
It then flips the mirror toward the United States. It says Americans may feel unimpressed by their own country amid decaying infrastructure. skyrocketing prices. and overall anxiety—making it easier. the piece argues. to be hypnotized by the shiny façade Moscow can offer. It names MAGA influencers like Tucker Carlson and Candace Owens as people willing to fawn over visits to Russia. including visits to Russia’s grocery stores or churches.
The broader point is not simply that Russia survives. It’s that. in Washington. Russia’s continued existence outside a U.S.-led liberal world order becomes anathema to those committed to a story about “the End of History.” The article portrays the persistence of Moscow as a threat to worldview. because accepting that Russia can exist—and even occasionally punch above its weight through black ops in Africa or political meddling in Europe—forces a different conclusion: that the liberal democratic model is not the only logical outcome.
So the same collapse narratives keep getting recycled. the article argues. with a pool of Russia experts and policymakers who are given in to wishful thinking about Russia collapsing on its own. The phrase used is Russian: “dividing a hide of an uncaptured bear.” The consequence. it says. is misguided policies and intellectual decline.
The uneasy tension is visible in the real-world record the piece points to: a Russia that has not collapsed, and a U.S. Russia policy that has repeatedly behaved as if it would.
Russia policy Vladimir Putin sanctions Ukraine war Russia studies USAID DOGE FLAS funding cancel culture PEN America Ilya Ponomarev Decononization 2022-23 The Atlantic May 2001 cover