Yevgeny Prigozhin’s strange march to Moscow and back

In May, we predicted in these pages that Bakhmut would ultimately prove to be divisive, not decisive terrain for Russia. By vainly obsessing over the small mining town, Russian President Vladimir Putin was risking a massive rift between his regular military and mercenary ground forces.

Yesterday and overnight, in a series of stunning events, our prediction came true, albeit on an even larger scale than we had anticipated.

Its beginning was innocuous enough. Prigozhin, well known for his bluster and ongoing war of words against Russian Defense Minister Sergey Shoigu, furiously accused the Russian military of deliberately shelling and killing his Wagner Group paramilitary forces while they were stationed at the rear, being held in reserve for the war in Ukraine. Seemingly, that was just one more potshot at Shoigu.

But this time, Shoigu fired back. TASS, Russia’s official state-controlled news agency, quoted an unnamed Ministry of Defense spokesperson declaring, “The information spread on social networks about the attack by the Russian Armed Forces on the “rear camps of PMC “Wagner” is false.” 

Yet that was not the end of it, as most observers foresaw.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, TASS sternly announced that the FSB had “initiated a criminal case,” accusing Prigozhin’s “statements” as being tantamount to “invocation of armed rebellion.” This clearly was no longer business as usual between Prigozhin and Shoigu.

Even so, by late Friday afternoon, the dispute was still largely confined to a personal feud between Prigozhin and Shoigu. Putin himself had yet to weigh in. The Kremlin’s only reaction at that point to the FSB issuing an arrest warrant for Prigozhin came from Putin’s press secretary Dmitry Peskov who confirmed that “Putin is aware of the situation.”

Prigozhin seemed to be operating under the assumption that he was in open rebellion only against Shoigu and Russia’s theater commander in Ukraine, General Valery Gerasimov. His forces marched on Rostov-on-Don and occupied the city’s military command headquarters, seizing effective control of the key Russian military supply city for the war effort in Ukraine.

The man formerly known as “Putin’s chef” seemingly avoided targeting Putin by name and only directed his ire at Shoigu and Gerasimov, while demanding their surrender either in Rostov-on-Don or in Moscow, if necessary. Thus far, at least in terms of plausible deniability, Prigozhin was involved in mutiny but not rebellion.

Putin’s taped speech, however, changed all that, turning mutiny into civil war. The Russian president accused Prigozhin of “betrayal” and characterized his actions as “a stab in the back of our country and our people.” Putin then piled on, calling it “treason” and vowed that those who “have betrayed Russia” would “be held accountable.”

Prigozhin, via his AP Wagner Telegram channel, quickly fired back. This time, in addition to Shoigu and Gerasimov, Putin was squarely in his crosshairs as well. Prigozhin defiantly said that the Russian president “had made the wrong choice. That’s worse for him. Soon we will have a new president.”

Elements of Prigozhin’s paramilitary forces were soon on the move northward from Rostov-on-Don. Their “march of justice” along the 675-mile road to Moscow rapidly reached Voronezh, a town only 325 miles south of the red crenelated walls of the Kremlin.

Moscow found itself in a panic. Improvised roadblocks were thrown up around the capital city and the Rosgvardiya — Russia’s home guard, entirely controlled by Putin — was quickly deployed. Various unconfirmed reports speculated on Telegram that Moscow had enacted its seldom used “Krepost Plan,” which allows law enforcement to secure key government sites, including FSB headquarters.

Putin reportedly fled Moscow. Forces in the largely immune wartime capital of Russia found themselves preparing to fight a very hot civil war battle against Prigozhin’s forces. And Prigozhin’s road trip to Moscow had met little organized resistance other than purported Russian air strikes. The few obstacles that were erected — buses and garbage trucks — were easily tossed aside by Prigozhin’s armored units proceeding up the M4 highway toward the capital. 

The road to Moscow at this point appeared wide open. Or so it seemed until Prigozhin, in a moment of Kabuki theater organized by Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko, suddenly reversed course and ordered his marching troops back to Rostov-on-Don.

In an announcement that first reported by Belta, a Belarusian state-controlled news agency, Prigozhin claimed he had come within 124 miles of Moscow, only to turn back. Even as we write this, there are now reports that Prigozhin’s forces are preparing to leave Rostov-on-Don. Where they are going is not yet clear. 

Prigozhin either had no real plan to seize and control Moscow — and arguably, 25,000 troops stretched from Rostov-on-Don to the capital city would not be enough — or he exacted the concessions he wanted from Putin. 

But at what price? Putin is unlikely to forgive Prigozhin. If a deal was made, it likely will only be a matter of time until the Wagner Group founder finds himself falling out of a window or drinking the wrong cup of tea. Or perhaps, if Prigozhin survives, he will be forced to decamp to one of his Wagner Group bases in Africa, where the bulk of his cash flow is derived from such activities as the theft of gold from Sudan and the Central African Republic.

Only one thing is certain now. We have not yet seen the last of Prigozhin, even though Putin likely still wants him dead or behind bars.

Mark Toth is an economist, entrepreneur, and former board member of the World Trade Center, St. Louis. Jonathan Sweet, a retired Army Colonel and 30-year military intelligence officer, led the U.S. European Command Intelligence Engagement Division from 2012 to 2014.