The polling decline accelerated in recent months as Russia implemented its fourth wave of mobilization. Unlike earlier mobilizations, which targeted primarily rural and ethnic minority regions, the latest call-up has reached into Moscow and St. Petersburg—the core constituencies of Putin's support. Middle-class Russians who previously remained insulated from the war now face the prospect of themselves or their sons being sent to the front.

"People understood the war was happening somewhere far away, in Donbas or Crimea," said Ekaterina Schulmann, a Russian political scientist now based in Berlin. "Now they understand the war is happening to them—their sons are dying, their savings are worthless, and there is no end in sight."

Economic data supports this assessment. Real incomes in Russia fell 4.7% in 2025, according to government statistics. The ruble has lost 35% of its value against the dollar since the invasion began, driving up prices for imported goods. Unemployment remains officially low, but many Russians have been forced into lower-paying jobs as Western companies have withdrawn and sanctions have disrupted supply chains.

The Kremlin faces a difficult choice: respond to weakening support with escalation or accommodation. History suggests Putin will choose escalation. Past Russian leaders, from Czar Nicholas II to Mikhail Gorbachev, learned that showing weakness can trigger regime collapse. Putin, who witnessed the chaotic fall of the Soviet Union firsthand, is likely to interpret declining approval as a signal to tighten control rather than seek compromise.

Indeed, recent weeks have seen increased repression. Russia's parliament passed legislation expanding the definition of treason to include any criticism of the military campaign. Sentences for "discrediting" the armed forces have been lengthened. Independent media outlets operating from exile report that their journalists' relatives inside Russia are being harassed by security services.

But repression has limits. The Soviet Union maintained totalitarian control for decades, but ultimately collapsed when the gap between official propaganda and lived reality became too wide to ignore. Putin's Russia is not as totalitarian as the Soviet Union—Russians have access to VPNs and foreign media, they travel abroad, and they communicate privately through encrypted messaging apps. The Kremlin can suppress open dissent, but it cannot control what Russians think.

The question is whether Putin responds to weakening domestic support with escalation or accommodation—and Europe's security hangs on that answer. If Putin concludes that only victory in Ukraine can restore his legitimacy, he may escalate the conflict, potentially expanding it beyond Ukraine's borders. If he concludes that the war is unwinnable and seeks a negotiated settlement, there may be an opening for diplomacy.

Western intelligence agencies are watching closely for signals of Putin's intentions. Some analysts believe the approval decline makes Putin more dangerous, as he may resort to dramatic escalation—possibly including the use of tactical nuclear weapons—to shock Russia out of its malaise. Others believe declining support will eventually force the Kremlin to accept a negotiated settlement that falls short of its maximalist objectives.

What is clear is that the political foundation of Putin's war has begun to crack. Whether those cracks widen into regime-threatening fissures, or whether Putin succeeds in papering them over through repression and propaganda, will determine not just Russia's future but Europe's security for decades to come.