Behind these statistics lies a body of cases directly linked to Russia’s military operations against Ukraine and the need to defend border regions. For example, between 2022 and 2024, the border region of Kursk Oblast received 19.4 billion rubles in budget funds, while Belgorod Oblast received 19.5 billion rubles for the construction of fortifications in case of an invasion. Part of these funds was embezzled, which enabled officials to shift the blame for the military’s failure to adequately protect the regions and for the success of the Ukrainian Armed Forces’ offensive against the Kursk Region. The combination of stress and the need to find scapegoats led to the so-called ‘fortification case,’ in which the first verdicts were handed down by 2025–2026.
In the Belgorod Region, criminal cases were opened against Deputy Governors Rustem Zainullin and Vladimir Bazarov, as well as former Deputy Minister of Construction Vladimir Gubarev. In the Bryansk Region, Deputy Governor Nikolai Simonenko was detained in connection with a case involving abuse of authority during the construction of defensive structures. Meanwhile, in the Kursk Region, Governor Alexei Smirnov and his first deputy, Alexei Dedov, were arrested on charges of fraud related to the construction of fortifications; according to unofficial reports, their testimony regarding the possible involvement of former Governor Roman Starovoit in the embezzlement may have been one of the reasons for his suicide.
In the Bryansk Region, cases are currently underway against five deputy governors: Kuleshova, Egorova, Petrochenko, Timoshenko, and Simonenko. This is the largest series of cases against a single governor’s team in the sample. In the Krasnodar Territory, two deputy governors have been arrested — one responsible for construction and the other for ‘Cossack affairs.’ In the Belgorod Region, the former deputy governor for housing and utilities, Polezhaev, and the deputy minister of housing and utilities, Novikova, have been arrested. All these cases make the construction, housing, and utilities sector one of the most corruption-prone in the frontline zone: it accounts for 22% of all the cases we studied (compared to 13% ‘behind the front lines’).
In the border region, 95% of those convicted of corruption receive actual prison terms — almost without exception (by comparison, in the rear, the figure is 79%). Although not many defendants have received their sentences yet (n=20), the proportion already appears stable. It indicates that the system has no intention of forgiving blatant corruption in a sector that is so sensitive and crucial to the political image.
Criminal Cases — A Reflection and Consequence of Triggering Events
Events that resonate with the public (including wars, natural and man-made disasters, utility accidents, terrorist acts, etc.) can serve as significant stress tests for the state, creating potential risks of a political crisis.
Such a crisis is typically described in terms of 1) a ‘crisis of rationality,’ when the state proves unable to effectively resolve emerging problems, and 2) a ‘crisis of legitimacy’ — a decline in public support and a loss of trust in the government. In situations involving external shocks, these dimensions can reinforce one another: ineffective crisis management can accelerate the erosion of trust, which, in turn, limits the state’s capacity for governance. All of this compels the authorities to seek a demonstrative solution to the problem, including through coercive and repressive methods. However, this logic has been described by theorists in the context of democracies.
Of course, in an autocratic regime — and even more so under wartime conditions—the dynamics of this crisis operate differently. Authoritarian governments do not need electoral trust in its classical sense — but they do need it in two other forms. First, sustained popular support signals to elites the system’s stability and safeguards against the coordination of opposition factions: in wartime, rifts within the elite, fueled by a decline in public trust, pose a greater risk than any election.
Second, the ‘crisis of rationality’ in a military context becomes literal: corruption in defense procurement is not abstract mismanagement, but direct losses on the front lines, the disruption of mobilization plans, and the unpreparedness of military equipment. Finally, even in a system where electoral politics are suppressed, there exists an ‘informational electorate’ — the audience of state media — to whom the high-profile arrests of corrupt officials are presented as proof that the authorities ‘have the situation under control’ and are punishing those responsible for military failures. It is precisely at this intersection of administrative necessity and symbolic politics that the logic behind the repressive response to the crisis should be sought.
Here we find the convergence of several of the explanatory models listed above. Corrupt officials, who serve as scapegoats and are most often one level lower in the power hierarchy (regional administrators, second-tier officials), fulfill several purposes at once: prosecuting them temporarily alleviates public pressure and creates the appearance of control over the crisis, satisfies the public’s demand for justice, and motivates other officials to better safeguard their own spheres of influence.
As a result, a scapegoat is designated for the crisis, shifting responsibility from the systemic level to the individuals involved. In this way, the system passes a stress test while remaining untainted, and designates someone to answer for the consequences — even if this is done merely for show and does not lead to the actual eradication of corrupt practices.
Such high-profile cases and the targeted arrests that result from them make it possible to test the limits of personalized accountability: whether it is confined primarily to the municipal level or can extend to regional political elites. Among such incidents is the case related to the aftermath of the 2018 fire at the ‘Winter Cherry’ shopping mall in Kemerovo, which resulted in the conviction of Alexander Mamontov, head of the Kemerovo Region branch of the Russian Ministry of Emergency Situations, for negligence and embezzlement; as well as the criminal case related to a utility accident in Podolsk in 2024, following which Alexander Samarin, the Minister of Energy of the Moscow Region, was held accountable. Such regional cases, linked to accidents, disasters, elections, and other high-profile events, explain the regional spikes but not the increase in arrests that began in 2023.
According to our data, Russian authorities often resort to such crisis management methods amid external military and political instability.
Conclusions and Outlook
Three Objectives — and How They Are Being Addressed in Practice
The anti-corruption campaign unfolding in Russia since 2023 is neither a fight against corruption in the strict sense nor an extraordinary purge of elites in the spirit of the Stalinist era. It is a wartime governance tool that simultaneously addresses three challenges the regime can no longer handle with its previous methods.
The first objective is oversight and fiscal re-centralization. The war has laid bare the scale of corruption schemes in areas where they were previously politically tolerated: defense construction, military procurement, and the allocation of infrastructure budgets. Belousov’s appointment to the Ministry of Defense, along with a series of cases against deputy ministers and heads of military agencies, indicates that the regime has shifted to a punitive model of corruption control precisely where theft directly translates into losses on the front lines.
The second objective is managing competition among elite factions. Criminal prosecution has become a convenient tool for purging patronage networks without forcing the patrons themselves to resign or discrediting them. This mechanism operates on several levels: at the top — through the dismantling of entire clan structures, as in the case of the Ministry of Defense and the Shoigu clan; in the regions — through ‘vertical’ redistribution, where repression targets the governor’s protégés and appointees without affecting the governor himself, and ‘horizontal’ redistribution, which involves competition between elite groups at the same level; finally, through the gradual ‘alignment’ of annexed territories with nationwide rules of the game, as the immunity of their top leaders weakens. In all these cases, the regime physically removes people from the system, legitimizes the redistribution through the narrative of the fight against corruption, and seizes assets without creating public political conflict.
The third objective is to legitimize the regime. Show trials function as a relatively ‘inexpensive’ mechanism for redistributing symbolic responsibility: the system designates guilty perpetrators, absolves itself of blame for systemic failures, and demonstrates its intention to ‘keep the situation under control’ — especially in cases related to high-profile events.
Why Did This Surge Occur Specifically Starting in 2023 — and Why Not Earlier?
The main cause that led to criminal cases against officials becoming an increasingly frequent occurrence was the full-scale invasion’s transition into a protracted war of attrition. The war has reshaped virtually all spheres of government operations and shifted the priorities of criminal policy.
However, the date of February 24, 2022, did not automatically trigger the wave of repression: the Kremlin entered the war expecting a lightning-fast campaign, during which the previous methods of managing the elites would remain effective. The turning point came in the fall of 2022 — with military setbacks, a ‘partial mobilization,’ and the strategic acknowledgment that the war was dragging on. It was precisely the transition to a protracted war that required a restructuring of the entire state apparatus: the mobilization economy, logistical support, bureaucratic discipline, and control over defense spending. The anti-corruption campaign became one of the main tools of this restructuring of the rear.
But why are we seeing a surge in cases against non-military officials only in 2023, rather than immediately after the invasion began? This one-year lag between the start of the war and the emergence of the surge in criminal cases can be explained as a natural consequence of the launch of the law enforcement mechanism following the trigger point (fall 2022): assigning new tasks, conducting an operational investigation into a criminal incident or a specific official who may have been ‘targeted’ by colleagues, legalizing operational materials, initiating a case, conducting an investigation, and holding a trial — all of this takes time. This observation is also confirmed by a sociologist specializing in the study of the Russian law enforcement system, who spoke with us on condition of anonymity. Internal turmoil within the security apparatus may also be prolonging this lag. The Russian law enforcement and administrative system is too bureaucratic for requests, responses, and approvals to proceed without a specific political directive. All of this, according to the sociologist, requires a minimum interval of 6 to 12 months between the trigger event and the arrest or trial.
The same logic most likely applied to the purges in the Ministry of Defense: if the wave of repression began in 2024, it makes more sense to look for the reasons for its onset not in the arrival of a new minister — after all, it takes time for the law enforcement machine to get up to speed, and in that case the peak of arrests would not have coincided with his appointment — but in the events that took place in 2023. Perhaps the Kremlin made a decision regarding the Shoigu clan, or perhaps the pace of the purges was influenced by other events, such as Prigozhin’s mutiny, sabotage incursions along the border, or a series of tactical and forced retreats by the Russian army.
Weighing the Pros and Cons: What the Campaign Brings to the Regime — and What Risks It Poses
From the perspective of the regime’s stability, the anti-corruption campaign appears effective: it addresses immediate administrative challenges (discipline in military procurement, reallocation of budget funds, and a demonstration of control) at a relatively low short-term cost. A corruption charge is the ideal weapon of authoritarian rule: it is legally indisputable in Russian courts, morally irrefutable in the public sphere, and requires no political justification. At the same time, despite the rising number of cases, this weapon is used very rarely — the risk of criminal prosecution for an official is only about 2%.
However, the risks of destabilization are real — and they appear to be beginning to materialize. First, the expansion of the zone of repressive risk alters officials’ incentives: in a situation where a criminal case could affect anyone, it is rational either to make no decisions at all (thus avoiding liability) or to rapidly maximize personal income while the opportunity remains. Both behaviors have a detrimental effect on governance practices during wartime.
Second, the possibility of ‘setting up’ colleagues — inherent in the bureaucratic logic of operational investigations — encourages an informant culture and paranoid fear within the bureaucracy and undermines the coordination required to wage war.
Third, high-profile arrests without structural reforms merely reproduce the very system they are ostensibly attacking: new teams replacing those who have been purged replicate the same practices, only with new beneficiaries.
Finally, aggregate data on median prison terms indicate that punishment for most corrupt officials has not become harsher — it has merely come to affect more people. In other words, sentencing practices have largely remained the same. The campaign is characterized by its scale rather than its severity, which in itself signals that the goal is to send a political message rather than to genuinely eradicate corruption. In isolated cases, the state resorts to repeat convictions, but these affect only certain political actors.
Scenarios: How the Situation Might Develop
The observed dynamics can be extrapolated into three plausible scenarios, each of which could affect the regime’s stability, the quality of governance, and Russia’s military potential in different ways.
Scenario 1: Further expansion of the anti-corruption campaign. Under this scenario, the number of cases continues to rise, spreading to new sectors and higher levels of the hierarchy. It unfolds against the backdrop of an ongoing war with no clear military successes and mounting pressure on military spending. For the regime, this is beneficial in the short term, as a constant source of signals that it is in control. However, it is detrimental to the quality of governance: the bureaucratic apparatus enters a state of complete paralysis of initiative, coordination costs rise, and military logistics deteriorate precisely at the moment when the war demands, on the contrary, speed and flexibility.
Scenario 2: Stabilization at a new equilibrium. The regime has achieved a rough balance between the disciplining effect and the functional losses resulting from excessive fear. The number of cases stabilizes at the 2024–2025 level. This is the most likely short-term scenario, assuming relative stability on the front lines and in the economy. It does not resolve any structural problems, but it maintains the regime’s momentum.
Scenario 3: Winding down the campaign. The authorities acknowledge that the campaign has gone too far and ease the pressure, due to a shortage of personnel, signs of administrative paralysis in key agencies, or the end of the war’s active phase. This scenario improves the short-term quality of governance but creates a new risk: officials who have worked for years under the threat of imprisonment may interpret the easing of pressure as a signal to embark on a new round of rent-seeking. At the same time, this scenario is the least likely — the regime cannot back down without a radical restructuring of the system and the dismantling of the power hierarchy.
None of the scenarios envisages the actual eradication of systemic corruption—this is neither the goal nor a possible outcome of the campaign. The campaign addresses military-political objectives using the tools of criminal law, and its logic is subordinated to these objectives rather than to the rule of law or to improving the quality of governance. This is the main paradox of governance under late Putinism: a system that structurally fosters corruption uses anti-corruption charges as an instrument of lawfare to perpetuate itself.