The past few months have offered revealing lessons about the nature of Russian power.

When war erupted between the United States, Israel, and Iran earlier this year, many expected Moscow to come decisively to Tehran’s aid. Iran had supplied Russia with drones and military technology during the war in Ukraine, while the two countries had deepened their strategic partnership in recent years. Yet Russia’s response proved cautious and limited. Moscow offered diplomatic support and sought to protect its interests, but it avoided direct military involvement. The Kremlin’s restraint surprised observers who interpreted it as evidence of a forthcoming Russian defeat in its conflict with Ukraine.

That conclusion may have been premature.

In fact, the Iranian case follows a pattern that had already become visible in Syria. As Bashar al-Assad’s regime began to unravel, Russia refrained from committing the scale of resources that would have been required to reverse the situation. Instead, Moscow focused on preserving its own strategic assets and influence while avoiding a costly new military commitment. In both Syria and Iran, the Kremlin chose to limit support for long-standing partners when this served what it regarded as higher priorities.

These decisions did not reflect the collapse of Russian power so much as its prioritization. Faced with multiple challenges and heavily constrained resources, Vladimir Putin chose to conserve military and economic means for what he clearly regards as the defining struggle of his presidency: the war in Ukraine. Rather than becoming deeply entangled in crises elsewhere, Moscow has remained focused on its primary objective.

The war in Iran offers another lesson that may be highly relevant to the conflict in Ukraine.

Militarily, Iran suffered a devastating blow. Its air defenses proved vulnerable, much of its military infrastructure was damaged, and it faced the combined pressure of two far stronger powers. Yet the eventual diplomatic outcome illustrated a recurring reality of international politics: military success does not automatically translate into maximal political gains.

Despite suffering extensive damage, Tehran emerged from the conflict with its regime in place and with potential substantial international assistance for reconstruction. Most importantly, it demonstrated a capability to use its strategic asset (the Strait of Hormuz) wisely while absorbing the pain inflicted on it and sustaining the confrontation for far longer than some outside observers had anticipated.

Whether one views the June 17 U.S.-Iran memorandum of understanding as an Iranian success or merely as effective damage limitation, the broader lesson is clear: In prolonged conflicts, the side that proves capable of enduring hardship often secures better political terms than its battlefield position alone would suggest.

Russian leaders are undoubtedly studying these events closely. Their conclusion may well be that perseverance remains a viable strategy. If a heavily sanctioned and militarily weaker Iran could preserve its core interests by enduring punishment and refusing to break, Moscow has every reason to believe that Russia—with its far larger population, economy, military-industrial base, and resource wealth—can do the same.

For the Kremlin, the message is straightforward: absorb the losses, endure the pressure, use your strategic assets as best as possible and over time your adversaries may conclude that the costs of continued confrontation outweigh the benefits.

This may be an uncomfortable conclusion for Western policymakers. But ignoring how Russian leaders interpret the lessons of recent conflicts is unlikely to bring the war in Ukraine any closer to an end.

This matters because a growing number of Western commentators continue to argue that Russia is gradually approaching exhaustion. They point to battlefield stalemate, the effectiveness of Ukrainian drone strikes deep inside Russia, and the cumulative impact of Western sanctions. Recent attacks on infrastructure around Moscow have reinforced that perception.

Yet history repeatedly demonstrates that Russia possesses a remarkable capacity for endurance under extreme hardship. From Napoleon’s invasion to the Second World War, outside powers have often underestimated the resilience of the Russian state and society. The Soviet Union absorbed losses on a scale almost unimaginable today and nevertheless emerged as one of the world’s two superpowers. Modern Russia is not the Soviet Union, but the historical memory of sacrifice in pursuit of national objectives remains deeply embedded in its political culture.

Russia also retains strategic advantages that many analysts tend to underestimate. Its vast territory provides geographic depth that few countries can match. Its economy has been damaged by sanctions but has not collapsed. Moscow has redirected much of its trade toward Asia, the Middle East, and other parts of the Global South. Despite immense military expenditures, the Russian state continues to function, recruit soldiers, produce weapons, and finance the war effort.

Moreover, Russia still benefits from relationships that help mitigate Western pressure. China remains a critical economic partner. North Korea continues to provide support. Even the turmoil in the Middle East has not fundamentally altered these realities. Russia’s position in the international system may be weaker than before the invasion of Ukraine, but it is far from isolated.

Most importantly, many observers underestimate the determination of Vladimir Putin and the political elite surrounding him. For the Kremlin, the war is no longer merely about territory. It has become intertwined with regime legitimacy, national identity, and Russia’s status as a great power. After more than four years of fighting, a clear defeat would threaten not only strategic objectives but also the political foundations of Putin’s rule.

This does not mean Russia is destined to win.

A total collapse of Ukraine remains unlikely. The United States and Europe have invested too much strategically, financially, and politically to permit Kyiv’s defeat. Recent commitments by the G7 to continue supporting Ukraine’s defense and energy resilience demonstrate that Western backing remains substantial.

The result is a painful strategic reality. Russia appears too strong to be decisively defeated, while Ukraine remains too heavily supported to be conquered.

Such circumstances often produce wars of attrition that continue long after it becomes clear that neither side can achieve its maximal objectives. The longer the conflict persists, the greater the human, economic, and geopolitical costs become.

That is why the most plausible endgame remains neither total Russian victory nor complete Ukrainian restoration of all occupied territories. More likely is a negotiated settlement or long-term ceasefire that freezes the conflict roughly along existing lines of engagement, leaving some disputed territories unresolved for years or even decades.

Such an outcome would satisfy nobody. Ukrainians would regard it as an incomplete recovery of their country. Russians would fall short of their broader ambitions. Western governments would be forced to acknowledge uncomfortable realities. Yet history suggests that imperfect settlements are often preferable to endless wars pursued in the hope that one side will eventually collapse.

The central mistake policymakers must avoid is assuming that Russia is on the verge of collapse.

Recent events have demonstrated that Moscow is not all-powerful. Russia has shown clear limits to its ability—or willingness—to shape outcomes beyond its immediate priorities. Yet those same events have also demonstrated something equally important: the Kremlin remains capable of making difficult strategic choices, concentrating resources on what it considers essential, and enduring significant military and economic costs in pursuit of long-term objectives.

That reality should not be ignored. The lessons Russia may be drawing from Syria, Iran, and Ukraine itself are unlikely to encourage compromise born of exhaustion. On the contrary, they may reinforce Moscow’s belief that persistence can ultimately produce acceptable outcomes, even after years of hardship.

The tragedy is that every additional month required to recognize this reality will likely be paid for in many more Ukrainian and Russian lives.

JISS Policy Papers are published through the generosity of the Greg Rosshandler Family.