Europe’s Breaking Point: Russian Power, Hybrid Pressure, and the Coming Test

By Dr. James M. Deitch

The article argues that Russia’s war in Ukraine has evolved into a broader test of European security, with Moscow still intent on weakening NATO, destabilizing neighboring states, and revising the post–Cold War order despite heavy military losses. While Russia’s conventional forces have been degraded, the Kremlin has adapted through mobilization, expanded weapons production, hybrid warfare, and nuclear coercion, exploiting what the author describes as Western political division, slow defense investment, and uncertainty about long-term U.S. commitment. The piece concludes that countries such as Finland, Poland, and the Baltic states are preparing seriously for the threat, while Moldova remains highly vulnerable, and warns that hesitation by NATO and Europe could encourage Russia to expand pressure beyond Ukraine.

Russian and Ukrainian flag over map of Europe.

Disclaimer: These opinion pieces represent the authors’ personal views and do not necessarily reflect the official policies or positions of Norwich University or PAWC.


Russia’s war against Ukraine has entered its fourth year, and the strategic question that once lingered at the margins of Western debate now presses with uncomfortable immediacy: whether Moscow intends to expand the conflict beyond Ukraine, and whether it possesses the capacity to do so. The answer is not comforting. Russia’s ambitions remain expansive, its military power degraded but far from exhausted, and the West’s political cohesion is fraying at precisely the moment when deterrence requires clarity, speed, and unity. The war has become a test not only of Ukraine’s endurance but of Europe’s ability to recognize that the security order it assumed to be permanent is now provisional. The Kremlin’s strategic logic has not changed. It seeks to revise the post–Cold War settlement, weaken NATO, and reassert dominance over territories it considers historically subordinate. What has changed is the geopolitical environment surrounding that ambition. The United States is consumed by the demands of a widening Middle Eastern conflict. Europe is struggling to reconcile its rhetoric of unity with its chronic underinvestment in defense. NATO is militarily strong but politically brittle. And Russia, though battered, has adapted to a long war in ways that make it more dangerous, not less.

Russian intent is the least ambiguous part of this equation. Moscow has never concealed its belief that the independence of the Baltic states was a historical accident, nor has it abandoned the narrative that Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania are “anti‑Russian” entities oppressing Russian speakers. These narratives are not rhetorical flourishes; they are the same justifications Russia used in Georgia in 2008 and Ukraine in 2014 and 2022.[1] In recent months, Russian officials have sharpened their language, warning that Baltic states aiding Ukraine could face “consequences,” including attacks on their territory.[2] Russian state media has amplified claims that Baltic airspace is being used for Ukrainian drone strikes on Russian oil infrastructure, a charge unsupported by evidence but useful for manufacturing a pretext.[3] The pattern is familiar: create a narrative of provocation, then use it to justify retaliation. Russia’s intent toward Moldova is even clearer. Moscow has long viewed Moldova as a soft target, a state too small and politically fragile to resist sustained pressure. Russian intelligence services have repeatedly attempted to destabilize Moldovan politics through disinformation, energy coercion, and covert financing of pro‑Russian parties.[4] The objective is not necessarily to occupy Moldova but to prevent it from integrating with Europe and to use it as a pressure point against Ukraine and Romania. Even Finland, newly integrated into NATO, has become a target of Russian hybrid pressure. Moscow has threatened “military‑technical measures” in response to Finland’s accession, increased troop deployments near the border, and intensified GPS jamming and cyber operations in the Nordic region.[5] These actions are not random provocations; they are part of a broader strategy to signal that NATO’s northern flank is vulnerable.

A Degraded but Dangerous Russian Military

The question, then, is not whether Russia desires to expand the war, but whether it can. Russia has suffered staggering losses in Ukraine. Western intelligence estimates that more than 300,000 Russian soldiers have been killed or wounded, and thousands of armored vehicles destroyed.[6] Its elite airborne units have been mauled, its Black Sea Fleet repeatedly humiliated, and its defense industry forced into a frantic wartime footing. Yet Russia’s capacity is not defined solely by its losses. It is defined by its ability to regenerate force and by the relative weakness of its neighbors. Russia has compensated for battlefield losses through mobilization, recruitment of contract soldiers, and coercive conscription in occupied territories.[7] Its population is large enough to sustain high casualty rates, and its political system is repressive enough to suppress dissent. It cannot easily generate high‑quality forces, but it can generate large quantities of infantry, and quantity matters in attritional warfare. Its defense industry, though strained, has adapted to sanctions more effectively than many expected. With support from Iran, North Korea, and China, Russia has increased production of artillery shells, drones, and missiles.[8] It cannot match NATO’s industrial potential, but it does not need to. It only needs to outproduce Ukraine and exploit Western delays.

Russia’s capacity for hybrid warfare remains formidable. Cyberattacks, disinformation campaigns, energy coercion, and orchestrated migration flows require far fewer resources than conventional offensives. These tools are particularly effective against small states like Estonia or Latvia, where even minor disruptions can have outsized political effects. Russia’s nuclear arsenal remains intact and central to its strategy. Moscow uses nuclear threats to deter NATO intervention in Ukraine and to create political hesitation in Western capitals.[9] This leverage does not give Russia the ability to conquer NATO territory, but it does give it the ability to shape Western decision‑making. Russia does not currently have the conventional strength to launch a large‑scale invasion of the Baltic states or Finland. But it does not need to. A limited incursion, a manufactured border incident, or a hybrid attack could test NATO’s resolve without requiring massive force. Capacity matters, but perceived Western weakness matters more.

Western Hesitation and the Erosion of Deterrence

The most dangerous scenario is not one in which Russia has overwhelming military strength. It is one in which Russia believes NATO will not respond decisively. Europe’s political fragmentation, slow decision‑making, and chronic underinvestment in defense have created a perception that the continent is unprepared for rapid escalation. The European Union’s defense industrial base remains sluggish, its ammunition production insufficient, and its political unity fragile.[10] NATO’s deterrence posture relies on the assumption that the United States will intervene immediately and decisively in any conflict. But that assumption is now under strain. The United States is deeply engaged in a widening Middle Eastern conflict, supporting Israel in a war with Iran that has consumed political bandwidth, military resources, and diplomatic capital.[11] European leaders privately worry that Washington’s attention is divided and its commitments stretched. Russia does not need to defeat NATO militarily. It only needs to convince itself that NATO will hesitate. If Moscow believes that Europe cannot react quickly, or that the United States is too distracted to lead, then even a degraded Russian military becomes dangerous.

Russia has been drained militarily, politically, and diplomatically, but not in ways that reduce its appetite for risk. Its military losses are severe, but its forces have adapted. Russia has shifted to a war economy, increased production of drones and missiles, and restructured its forces for long‑term attrition.[12] The Russian military is weaker than it was in 2022, but more experienced, more mobilized, and more prepared for a prolonged conflict. Politically, Russia has become more authoritarian, not less. The war has eliminated political opposition, strengthened the security services, and consolidated Vladimir Putin’s control.[13] Political drain has not produced instability; it has produced rigidity. Diplomatically, Russia is isolated from the West but increasingly aligned with China, Iran, and North Korea.[14] It has found alternative markets for energy exports and alternative suppliers for weapons. Diplomatic drain has not weakened Russia’s strategic position as much as many expected. Russia is drained but not deterred.

The States That Stand Firm — and the One That Cannot

The West’s resolve is the decisive variable. Ukraine’s survival depends on Western support, and Europe’s security depends on Ukraine’s survival. The United States remains the backbone of NATO, but its political system is polarized, its global commitments overstretched, and its strategic focus divided. The war with Iran has strained U.S. resources and created friction with European allies who oppose aspects of the campaign.[15] Congress has struggled to pass sustained aid packages for Ukraine, and public support has softened. NATO is militarily strong but politically brittle. Disagreements over the Middle Eastern war have exposed deep divisions between the United States, Western Europe, and Turkey.[16] Some states fear escalation; others fear abandonment. The Alliance’s unity is real, but its cohesion is fragile. The European Union has made historic strides in defense cooperation, but its industrial base remains inadequate. Ammunition production goals have repeatedly slipped, and political disagreements have slowed decision‑making.[17] Europe talks about strategic autonomy, but it remains dependent on the United States for deterrence.

Amid this landscape of hesitation, five states stand out for their clarity, preparation, and resolve. Finland has transformed NATO’s northern flank. Its military is large, well‑trained, and deeply integrated into national society. Its reserves are robust, its civil defense infrastructure unmatched, and its political unity strong.[18] Finland does not rely on hope; it relies on preparation. Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania have been warning Europe about Russia for two decades and preparing for just as long. They have invested heavily in defense, built resilient cyber infrastructures, hardened critical systems, and integrated their militaries with NATO forces.[19] Their societies understand the stakes, and their governments act accordingly. Poland is now one of the most formidable militaries in Europe. It has invested aggressively in armor, artillery, air defense, and manpower.[20] Unlike 1939, Poland is not a speed bump; it is a fortress. Its strategic culture is sober, its threat perception accurate, and its commitment to Ukraine unwavering. These states are not the weak links in Europe’s defense. They are the anchors.

Moldova is the exception, the one state in Europe that is truly vulnerable. It lacks strategic depth, military capacity, and political cohesion. It faces a Russian‑backed separatist enclave, a hostile political opposition, and a constant barrage of disinformation.[21] If Russia destabilizes Moldova, the consequences will ripple across Romania, Ukraine, and the Black Sea region. Moldova needs protection, not symbolic support but real assistance: energy security, intelligence cooperation, cyber defense, and political backing.

The margin for error is closing. Russia’s intent is clear. Its capacity is degraded but sufficient. Its political system is hardened, not weakened. And the West’s resolve, the one variable that could decisively shape the outcome, is uncertain. Europe cannot afford uncertainty. The war in Ukraine is not a regional conflict; it is the opening chapter of a broader contest over the future of European security. If Ukraine falls, the Baltics will be next in line for pressure, Finland for hybrid attacks, and Moldova for destabilization. The parade in Moscow ends. The missiles do not. The question is whether the West will act before the next phase of this war expands the map of danger.

Dr. James M. Deitch was born in Philadelphia and raised in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. He attended high school in Heinavesi, Finland. He spent most of his Marine Corps career as an operations chief, serving deployments in Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Iraq, and Norway, and aboard the USS Saratoga. Deitch holds a master’s degree in military history from Norwich University and a doctoral degree in intellectual history from Liberty University. He serves as a Senior Fellow at the Patton Center for Peace and War at Norwich University. His published doctoral dissertation focuses on the role of ethnic Germans in early American history. His published works can be found in Total War Magazine, Concealed Carry Magazine, Real Clear Defense, Voices on Peace and War, and the Journal of the American Revolution.


[1] Security and Intelligence Service of the Republic of Moldova (SIS). Russian Influence Operations. Chișinău: SIS, 2025.

[2] “EU Warns Russia After Threats Over Baltic Airspace Dispute,” MSN, May 2026.

[3] Ibid.

[4] European External Action Service. Russian Interference in Moldova. Brussels: EEAS, 2025.

[5] Finnish Ministry of Defence. Hybrid Threats on the Nordic Frontier. Helsinki: Ministry of Defence of Finland, 2024.

[6] U.S. Defense Intelligence Agency. Russia Military Losses Assessment. Washington, DC: DIA, 2025.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Institute for the Study of War. Russian Defense Industrial Adaptation. Washington, DC: ISW, 2025.

[9] Pavel K. Baev, “Russia’s Nuclear Signaling,” Brookings Institution, 2024.

[10] European Court of Auditors. EU Defense Readiness. Luxembourg: European Court of Auditors, 2025.

[11] NATO Strategic Communications Centre of Excellence. Impact of the Iran War on Alliance Cohesion. Riga: NATO StratCom COE, 2026.

[12] Institute for the Study of War. Russian Operational Adaptation. Washington, DC: ISW, 2025.

[13] Carnegie Moscow Center. Repression and Regime Stability. Moscow: Carnegie Moscow Center, 2024.

[14] Center for Strategic and International Studies. Russia’s Sanctions Evasion Networks. Washington, DC: CSIS, 2025.

[15]NATO Strategic Communications Centre of Excellence. Alliance Divisions Over the Iran Conflict. Riga: NATO StratCom COE, 2026.

[16] Ibid.

[17] European Defence Agency. Ammunition Production Gap. Brussels: European Defence Agency, 2025.

[18] Finnish Defence Forces. Annual Report 2025. Helsinki: Finnish Defence Forces, 2025.

[19] Baltic Defence College. Baltic Security Strategy. Tartu: Baltic Defence College, 2025.

[20] Polish Ministry of National Defence, “Force Modernization Plan,” 2025.

[21] Moldovan Security and Intelligence Service. Russian Influence Operations. Chișinău: SIS, 2025.