Yurii Marchenko

Despite years of bold claims from Moscow about next-generation weaponry, many of Russia’s most publicized military projects have failed to meet expectations. From advanced tanks kept away from the front to warships sunk by drones, these high-profile systems reveal the widening gap between Russian military propaganda and battlefield performance.

Ukraine’s anti-corruption agencies announced this week the high-profile “Midas” operation—a reminder that in this country, corruption makes headlines precisely because it’s being confronted head-on. Even the highest offices are subject to scrutiny.

Nazi Germany confronted its crimes only after military defeat made denial untenable. Russia, by contrast, continues to equate victory with moral legitimacy. Without a clear and undeniable defeat, there is no sense of guilt—and without guilt, no basis for reflection or reform.

People from nearly every corner of the world have come to Ukraine to help. One of them is 23-year-old Canadian Mac Hughes. He arrived planning to stay a month, but the country and its people changed everything. First, he volunteered, then he fought. Now, even after being injured by a Russian Shahed drone, he’s still helping—and he has a message for the world.

When it comes to Ukraine, people still often mention major corruption scandals. Could it really be that, even amid an existential war, this country remains mired in corruption? Or perhaps all these high-profile cases actually signify something else?

“What is Europe’s strategy towards Russia?” asks one of the Russian opposition leaders, Yulia Navalnaya, in a column for The Economist . Yet each time a Russian opposition figure publishes another text or delivers another speech, one question inevitably arises: what exactly is the Russian opposition’s own plan for Russia?