For all that he can scarcely walk past a tank or a fighter jet without a photo opportunity of him peering out of the cupola or ensconced in the cockpit, Vladimir Putin is no soldier. He did his bare minimum reserve officer training at university, being assigned a technical rank of lieutenant, but abandoned it as soon as he could. He shows little sign of understanding the realities of warfare, from strategy and tactics to the unavoidable necessities of logistics.
This is something even Russian soldiers – and even before the current Ukraine debacle – uncomfortably acknowledge. Once, I was talking to a couple of officers, and once we had got past their inevitable wariness at talking to a Westerner (some drinks helped) it became clear that they had a complex attitude towards their commander-in-chief, at once respecting him as a strong and capable national leader, but at the same time unconvinced he truly understood warfare. In a colourful metaphor, one said: “I wouldn’t want a virgin telling me what to do on my wedding night.”
The irony is that, for all but three of the 24 years Putin has now directly and indirectly
