Ukraine is scrambling to find fresh fighters
FOR OLEKSANDR SIKALCHUK it was a routine mission, far from the front line. The 39-year-old draft officer had been escorting a group of conscripts when, during a midnight petrol-station stop in Poltava province, a man with a hunting rifle stepped out from the dark. He asked for Mr Sikalchuk’s weapons. The soldier refused, and then the man shot him dead. The killer escaped with one of the conscripts, someone he seemed to know. The incident was the first in a shocking spate of attacks on draft officers in the first week of February. Ukraine’s security services blamed the events on Russian infiltrators. Soldiers suspect the Poltava attack was homegrown. “It’d be nice to blame Russia,” said Roman Istomin, a colleague of the slain soldier. “But perhaps it’s something far worse.”
The attacks on Ukraine’s draft system could hardly come at a worse time. The armed forces, suffering from a long-running manpower shortage, now face an acute threat from Donald Trump. While movement on the eastern front lines has slowed during the past few weeks, as Russian forces regroup ahead of a possible new push, the fighting remains bloody. Potential recruits see this, and many prefer to hide, or run. So Ukraine’s draft officers have responded by turning up the dial of coercion. Their excesses are captured on film, and amplified gleefully by Russian social-media networks. “We botched mobilisation,” says “Artem”, an officer from the 46th brigade, who argues that political constraints have got in the way of military need. He saw his unit pushed out Kurakhove, a strategic stronghold in eastern Ukraine, in early January when it ran out of men. “Ten Russians to one Ukrainian. A group of four soldiers with responsibility for holding multiple high-rises, each with three or four entrances. It wasn’t even close.”
Russia’s manpower superiority isn’t immediately obvious from the overall numbers. Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelensky, claims his country’s army stands at 880,000. Russia’s grouping in and around Ukraine is meanwhile thought to be 720,000, including reserves and security forces. That seems like a reasonable ratio, given the fact Ukraine is largely defending ground. But the raw comparison is misleading. Where it matters—on the front line, in the trenches—Russia is replacing its losses much faster than Ukraine. It is able to throw men forward, often with the incentive of Russian rifles pointing at their backs, in a way Ukraine is not. In 2024 Russia added 430,000 men without reverting to general mobilisation. Even after staggering losses, the headcount grew by about 140,000 and it is planned to grow by about the same amount this year. Russia’s Ukraine grouping is also supported by other elements of its wider, officially 1.5 m-strong army. “I guarantee at least 1m Russian soldiers are involved in the war against us,” says a senior Ukrainian official.
To close the gap, Ukraine faces tough choices. One way would be to lower its mobilisation age from 25 to 18. The idea would be very unpopular with the nation and does not even sit well with all of its commanders. Artem, from the 46th, is one of the doubtful ones. “Many fathers are fighting precisely so their sons don’t have to,” he says. But Western advisers appear fixated on the idea, arguing that it would provide the quickest boost in combat strength. A senior American official suggests that Ukraine’s only chance of fighting a bad Trump deal is to mobilise its youngsters. For the time being, Mr Zelensky and his team appear unconvinced. “What Ukraine needs is newer weapons and protection,” a presidential aide argues.
Yet even Mr Zelensky’s officials admit Ukraine will have to expand its mobilisation if it is to stay in the fight. Officially, the government is prioritising the war effort over everything else. Unofficially, it is keeping a trickier balance: reconciling the front-line needs with those of an under-pressure economy. Right now, the government protects just under 1m “critical” workers from the draft. But the contradictions of the policy, which takes into account things like tax revenue, are demonstrated by the fact that some workers in one well-known chain of perfume stores are protected, but many drone manufacturers are not. “Zelensky is trying to have it both ways,” argues one European official. “But he may need to risk his economy more if he is to have a country at all.”
Anticipating pressure from Western allies, Mr Zelensky has already announced his own programme to boost voluntary recruitment, starting with 18-24-year-olds. The programme in some ways mirrors the Russian recruitment scheme: large sign-up bonuses, competitive pay and the opportunity to leave after a year. Mr Zelensky’s adviser insists that is where the similarity ends. The young recruits will not be “cannon fodder”, he says, but trained to the highest standards in one of half a dozen of Ukraine’s elite brigades. The goal is at least 4,000 young recruits per month, another official says. Andriy Zagorodnyuk, a former defence minister, says that manpower alone cannot stop a slow retreat. Ukraine must also change the way it fights so that its operations are cleverer, hit Russians deeper and require fewer people. “We cannot win if we continue to play Russia’s attrition games,” he says.
Mr Trump guarantees one thing if nothing else: tomorrow will be different. Perhaps, amid the chaos and ultimatums, he will deliver a ceasefire on reasonable terms. A month into his second term it is looking more likely that he won’t. If the war indeed continues, and Russia continues to recruit as it has been, Ukraine’s mobilisation will have to get even tougher. “The tightening will continue,” says the senior Ukrainian official, “because no one has come up with a better solution.” That prospect risks cracking open divisions in an already exhausted nation, and spurring more violence against draft officers. ■