The full-scale invasion of Ukraine, launched on February 24, 2022, represents a critical kinetic activation of the Minimisation Plan, transforming the Sino-Russian strategic partnership from an ideological bloc into an active military-economic axis engaged in a war of attrition against the West [1]. This conflict is not merely an isolated act of Russian aggression but a calculated, multi-purpose operation designed to absorb Western military and financial resources, test NATO resolve, and achieve specific domestic objectives for the Kremlin through a process of demographic attrition [2].
The timing of the invasion was not coincidental. It occurred just weeks after Vladimir Putin and Xi Jinping met in Beijing on February 4, 2022, issuing a landmark 5,000-word joint statement declaring a partnership with "no limits" and "no 'forbidden' areas of cooperation" [3]. This declaration was the critical inflection point, serving as the strategic green light for Russia's military action. The manifesto was explicit in its aims, with the two leaders pledging to oppose "color revolutions" and NATO expansion, directly providing the ideological justification for Russia's invasion [3, 4].
The Kremlin's primary public justification for the invasion was a masterclass in the Minimiser tactic of creating a pretext designed to become "justifiable in hindsight." In his February 24, 2022, address, Vladimir Putin cited the need to "demilitarize and denazify Ukraine" as a core objective, painting the Ukrainian government as a neo-Nazi junta committing genocide against Russian speakers [4]. This narrative was based on a gross exaggeration of the role of far-right elements in Ukraine, such as the Azov Regiment, which, while having a documented far-right history, constituted a tiny fraction of the Ukrainian military and society and had been integrated into the state's command structure [9]. The strategic intent of this "denazification" lie was twofold: first, to provide a powerful, emotionally resonant justification for the invasion to a domestic Russian audience steeped in the memory of the Soviet Union's struggle against Nazi Germany in World War II; and second, to create a narrative that could be retroactively "proven" by the consequences of the invasion itself.
The brutal nature of the invasion and the existential threat it posed to Ukrainian national identity had the predictable effect of radicalizing elements of the population and elevating the status of the most battle-hardened military units, including Azov. Western military support for Ukraine was then systematically framed by Russian state media as the West "arming Nazis" [10]. The war itself created the very conditions of extreme nationalism and militarization that Russia could then point to as "proof" of its original claim. This tactic creates a self-fulfilling prophecy, achieving the systemic goal of generating a "hum" of confusion and moral ambiguity in Western discourse, paralyzing a unified response by bogging it down in a debilitating debate over the "true nature" of the Ukrainian state, and diverting attention from the primary act of aggression.
While the external objectives of the war are clear, a central tenet of the Minimisation Plan theory is that the conflict's staggering human cost serves a deliberate internal purpose for the Putin regime: a demographic 'reset.' Russia entered the 2020s in a state of severe demographic crisis, characterized by a declining birth rate, low life expectancy for men, and a significant "deficit of men" exacerbated by previous conflicts and social issues [5]. The war in Ukraine has weaponized this crisis. The conflict has been prosecuted with a near-total disregard for human life, employing "human wave" tactics. Credible Western intelligence estimates, such as those from the UK Ministry of Defence and U.S. intelligence, suggest that by mid-2025, Russian casualties (a combination of killed and wounded) have exceeded one million [6]. This immense battlefield attrition has been compounded by a massive wave of emigration, with an estimated 600,000 to 900,000 predominantly young, educated, and urban men fleeing the country to escape conscription since the mobilization announced in September 2022 [7].
This seemingly self-destructive outcome is rational when the strategic objective is understood not as the strengthening of the Russian nation, but as the indefinite preservation of the ruling regime. A large cohort of young, potentially disaffected men, particularly from urban centers, represents a classic revolutionary threat to any authoritarian government. The war physically eliminates this threat on an industrial scale, either through battlefield attrition (which disproportionately affects those from poorer, rural regions and ethnic minorities) or forced exile of the urban professional class. The result is a future Russia that is smaller, weaker, and poorer, but also more politically quiescent and therefore more governable from the Kremlin's perspective [2].
The war and the subsequent imposition of unprecedented Western sanctions have served as the final mechanism for cementing Russia's strategic subordination to China. Cut off from Western markets and technology, Moscow became almost entirely dependent on Beijing for its economic survival. Bilateral trade surged to a record $240 billion in 2023, with Russia becoming a primary supplier of cheap energy to China, and China becoming the primary supplier of everything from consumer goods to critical dual-use technology (like microchips and machine tools) for Russia's war machine [8]. This formalizes Russia's role as a raw material appendage to China's industrial economy. This act of strategic self-immolation serves China's long-term interests profoundly. A Russia that has permanently crippled its own demographic and intellectual potential cannot realistically pivot back to the West, even in a post-Putin era. It becomes locked into a subordinate relationship, guaranteeing Beijing a secure strategic rear and a reliable supply of natural resources for decades to come [2].