While Ukraine’s unmanned ground vehicles are already delivering supplies and evacuating the wounded on the battlefield, Moscow has chosen to issue another military expansion decree, adding 50,000 names to its official roster.

Just days ago, Putin signed Decree No. 700, which took effect immediately. The Russian military’s authorized strength now stands at 2.44 million, with 1.55 million in active service. This marks the fourth such adjustment since January 2026—March, June, July, and September—resulting in a paper increase of nearly 50,000 personnel within half a year. On the same day, another figure emerged: a 27% rise in defense spending for 2027, with total military outlays projected at 5 trillion rubles over the next three years.

On that day, Zelenskyy explicitly labeled this as mobilization, merely rebranded. The Kremlin denied it, citing the need to counter NATO threats. Yet the logic is straightforward: if the war were truly progressing smoothly, why would the military structure be revised four times in six months? Only a gaping shortfall in manpower would demand repeated numerical adjustments.

How deep is the hole in the Russian military? Ukrainian and British intelligence estimate Russian casualties have surpassed 1.5 million. The Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) puts the figure at 1.4 million casualties, including 450,000 killed—double the total U.S. combat fatalities during World War II. Contract soldiers sign up at a rate of around 1,000 per day, while daily losses range from 30,000 to 36,000. The gap between recruitment and attrition continues to widen. A signing bonus of 410,000 rubles—equivalent to about 30 times the average monthly wage—is increasingly insufficient to attract new recruits. Even more telling evidence comes from prisoner-of-war camps: among Ukrainian-held Russian prisoners, one in every ten is a foreign national. Intelligence reports indicate over 8,000 North Korean troops are already inside Russia, with plans to bring in another 10,000.

The chain is clear: when domestic contract pools dry up, the state turns to foreign labor; when neighboring countries are willing to supply personnel, Pyongyang’s soldiers enter Russian units. This is mobilization—just without the formal decree, the summonses, or the social upheaval seen in 2022.

Today’s Moscow appears deeply fearful of the word “mobilization.” In August, Zelenskyy warned of potential mobilization in autumn. Putin dismissed it as “nonsense,” Peskov denied any plans, and Medvedev claimed it was unnecessary. On September 20, following the State Duma elections, United Russia secured 57.8% of the vote. Just eight days later, on September 28, the fourth military expansion decree was signed. Denials before the election, actions after—exactly the same script as in September 2022.

Yet what warrants deeper concern is something else: the war is shifting tracks, but Russia remains stuck on the old one. Ukraine approved 50 domestically developed unmanned ground vehicles in the first half of the year—a pace it had not matched in all of 2025. These systems now deliver ordnance, resupply frontlines, evacuate casualties, and even deploy ground robots via drone drops. The decisive factor in future battles will be who can control more machines with fewer soldiers. Moscow’s response? Another military expansion order. With 1.55 million in active service and 2.44 million on paper, Russia is trading human lives for technological disadvantage. But in an open battlefield, newly inserted troops survive measured in days—or even hours.

Three accounts are laid bare: First, the headcount—2.44 million authorized personnel, with foreign forces entering in organized formations. Second, the financial ledger—1.71 trillion rubles in defense spending, sustained through tax hikes, bond issuance, and welfare cuts. Third, the technological reckoning: Ukrainian forces iterate their unmanned systems monthly, while Russian efforts remain focused on signing infantrymen. Human losses are calculated in days, fiscal strain in quarters, and technological competition in months. Decree No. 700 amounts to manually resetting the clock on a failing manpower meter.

What to watch next: whether a fifth military expansion decree will follow this year; whether North Korean troop numbers will rise from 8,000 to 18,000; and how much of the 5 trillion rubles pledged for 2027 will actually materialize—leaving fewer than 2.44 million real people in those slots. Relying on spreadsheet adjustments will not win a war of attrition. The side that wins will have already withdrawn its soldiers and deployed its machines.

Original article: toutiao.com/article/1877924255942668/

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author.