The new soldiers came from very diverse backgrounds, although they all shared one trait: after basic training in Western Europe, none of them expected to be assigned to an assault unit in the most fierce sector of the front. Some had enlisted voluntarily and were awaiting assignment in units that fit their profiles, such as drone operators or gunners. Others were taken from their villages without warning. An elderly soldier did not even have the opportunity to take his false teeth with him. After less than a week in the trenches of Donbas, in eastern Ukraine, only six of the twenty soldiers in the platoon remained. Three had been killed in combat and three were seriously wounded.
It is one of the most disastrous recruiting stories, but it is by no means an isolated case. Ukraine is urgently seeking to plug its lines to face new Russian attacks. No army offers new recruits guarantees about where they will be deployed, especially in times of war; and assault brigades are among the most punished units.
However, what experts describe as the "deployment lottery" is straining the recruiting process. Military leaders strive to fill positions with volunteers; some are resorting to raids on gyms and shopping malls. Few of those enlisted in this way become good soldiers. "We are encountering people aged 45-47," complains a senior officer. "By the time they get to the front, they're already out of breath."
Aware of the problem, the Ukrainian Ministry of Defense began working on a new mobilization strategy in September. According to his spokesman Illarion Pavliuk, part of the problem lies in military success: many citizens no longer see the war in the existential terms in which they did when the Russian invasion began in February 2022. "Some mistakenly think that others could do the job for them," he says.
The reforms aim to give more options to those who hesitate; Now, new recruits can, more or less, sign up for a specific position. A new digital registry will improve the ministry's knowledge of the country's human resources. There will be a clearer system of breaks and rotations. In addition, volunteers will be mobilized for a limited period, not indefinitely as is the case now.
There are several successful examples of recruitment campaigns in individual units. The most visible is perhaps that of the 3rd Assault Brigade, created nine months into the war as a branch of the Ukrainian special forces. In the cities, advertisements of enormous size embellish the lives of the brigade's stormtroopers, dedicated to killing personifications of evil in the form of cartoonish goblins. No less important is the brigade's reputation for competent command, good equipment and low desertion rates. New recruits typically go through months of training, as opposed to the usual month-long norm.
Kristina Bondarenko, spokesperson for the brigade, says there is no shortage of volunteers. By the beginning of the year, the brigade will be the largest in Ukraine, she says, similar in size to a NATO division. (The Ukrainian army has no divisions.) Most of the new recruits have not reached the age of 25; and she rejects 150 requests from minors a month. "No one is saying that there are millions of people waiting to fight in Avdivka [a Donbas city recently the scene of fierce fighting]," she says. "But there are people you can work with."
Russia also has difficulties mobilizing the troops it needs. Their tactic of launching major assaults, often without proper equipment, against defended positions can result in daily losses of up to 1,000 men. However, the fundamentals indicate that the challenge is titanic for Ukraine. With a pool of potential soldiers about four times larger, Russia appears to be winning in the long run. In prisons and poorer areas, joining the army seems like a rational decision.
Elsewhere, the Kremlin has been able to meet its minimal needs through secret recruitment to wage a full-scale war that it still pretends does not exist. If increased mobilization is needed, the Kremlin should admit that Russia is at war. And that would have political consequences.
Meanwhile, Ukrainians critical of the Kyiv government accuse the country of only "pretending to mobilize." Viktor Kevliuk, a retired colonel in charge of overseeing the implementation of the mobilization policy in the western half of the country between 2014 (the date of the first Russian invasion) and 2021, says that Ukraine risks falling into a trap. In his opinion, Russia will intensify mobilization once the presidential elections in March have passed. (The Main Intelligence Directorate of the Ministry of Defense, GUR, also agrees with this assessment.)
Vladimir Putin has already signed an edict increasing the size of the Russian armed forces by 170,000. Colonel Kevliuk argues that Ukraine needs to respond with a national mobilization of industry, government and resources. In his opinion, the often decadent lifestyle of those who enjoy security in Kyiv must change. "This is not the time for imported smoked salmon."
Throughout the war, Volodymyr Zelensky has resisted the military's maximalist demands (much to their chagrin). For example, his main generals have pushed for a reduction in the age at which non-reservists can be mobilized, now set at 27 years. Others have proposed stricter enforcement of mobilization laws.
In part, the president has opposed it for political reasons: he does not want to unnecessarily irritate the population. In any case, he is also moved by nobler concerns. "Zelensky wants to do right by the Ukrainians," says a high-level government source. "He doesn't want to be a dictator."
Difficult decisions lie ahead. For Colonel Kevliuk, the army is a beast that must be fed: "We have no choice but to be ruthless," he says. Now, some officials prefer a more consensual approach. The high-level source foresees media campaigns promoting national sacrifice and warning that Russia continues to represent an existential threat. "If we lose, it will be bad for all of us," he says.
The task is to convince potential recruits. Conductor, one of the members of the unfortunate unit deployed in Donbas, says that he is committed to serving his country, "but only in a way that he can be useful." Meanwhile, his main occupation is "24/7" getting a transfer away from the assault forces. "You can't destroy lives like this," he says.
© 2023 The Economist Newspaper Limited. All rights reserved
Translation: Juan Gabriel López Guix
