By Elena Alexeeva | 2026-01-16

Russia's war is placing some of its greatest pressure on Ukraine's mobilization system. With mounting losses and the fighting that drags on, the state is being forced to rethink how it recruits, trains and equips soldiers, revealing both serious weaknesses and the resilience of institutions and civil society sustaining a long war of attrition.

Strengthening the forces

That strain is increasingly visible inside the military system itself. By late 2025, the focus of Ukraine's military challenges had shifted. While earlier debates centered on ammunition shortages, now management and personnel dominate.

A June 2024 report by the Modern War Institute at West Point noted that losses of experienced fighters -- as high as 70% in some units -- created gaps now filled by new recruits.

Acute manpower shortages were forcing commanders to deploy mobilized soldiers who had barely finished basic training, according to a June report from the Congressional Research Service.

That challenge is compounded by demographics: the average age of new recruits is about 40, an age group more likely to face health issues and lower motivation while trying to master advanced weapons.

These vulnerabilities have become targets of Russian information warfare. Pro-Kremlin outlets and bloggers portray mobilization problems as proof of imminent state collapse.

An Atlantic Council analysis published July 16 described how thousands of anonymous Telegram accounts push claims that the Ukrainian draft is "illegitimate," stoke religious and social tensions, and aim to convince Western allies that further aid to a "collapsing" system is futile.

What Russian propaganda casts as systemic crisis, however, looks more like painful adaptation to total war -- a scale of conflict for which Ukraine was unprepared.

In November, Ukrainian journalist, former lawmaker and serviceman Ihor Lutsenko disclosed that 21,602 people had fled military service in October, citing official figures from the Prosecutor General's Office.

Military experts largely view the rise in soldiers absent without leave as an administrative challenge rather than a collapse of discipline.

Lutsenko has argued that deserters are not a monolithic group. Some face bureaucratic barriers when transferring units; others are exhausted veterans seeking rotation. Open debate of these issues, including at the level of the prosecutor general, reflects a society searching for solutions, not the enforced silence typical of autocracy.

Civil society steps in

As mobilization strains became visible beyond the barracks, public anger increasingly focused on how the draft was carried out.

So-called "busification," a term for forced mobilization raids in which conscription officers detain men on the street, force them into minibuses and transport them to enlistment offices, became a flashpoint. Videos have documented legal violations and physical confrontations.

Speaking on Hromadske Radio in November 2024, Lutsenko urged Ukrainians not to conflate such practices with lawful wartime mobilization. Proper mobilization, he said, targets specialists for training, while street roundups signal weak management and quota chasing. He described "busification" as a side effect of local pressure rather than deliberate policy, noting that recruitment offices ordered to deliver 20,000 people a month sometimes choose speed over legality.

Civil society has pushed back. Complaints against recruitment offices rose from 18 in 2022 to more than 5,000 in 2025, according to busification.org -- a sign of growing legal awareness forcing institutional reform.

Beyond protest, volunteers have filled critical gaps.

At key moments, civic groups acted as an "adaptive interface," stepping in where the state lagged. They procured body armor, organized evacuations, and supplied medical aid, effectively building an alternative logistics network.

Victoria Levinson, chair of the US-based charity You Are the Angel, said Ukraine's core problem is not recruitment but inadequate training and equipment.

"Even people who wanted to go to war often had to provide themselves with adequate equipment. Relatives and volunteers, including myself, raised money to buy bulletproof vests, helmets, thermal cameras, safety shoes, and even military uniforms!" she told Kontur.

Much of that gear was purchased in Western countries and transported to Ukraine.

She also pointed to the lack of military training among civilians.

"Add to this the complete lack of military training among a large part of the population, and who would want -- and more importantly, who would be able — to fight effectively in such conditions?" she said.

Levinson noted that most developed countries rely on professional armies, not forced service.

Ukraine faces problems that are in many ways universal. A July CENSIS poll published by Ukrainska Pravda found only 16% of Italians of military age would fight if attacked, while 19% would desert. By comparison, Ukraine's mobilization remains relatively stable.

"The US might be more patriotic if everyone were drafted into a war," Levinson said. "But try telling people that they have to buy protective equipment at their own expense -- and that's thousands of dollars per person -- or go to war without it -- and the number of people willing to go will immediately drop sharply."

Pressure from both the battlefield and society has begun to force policy changes.

On December 28, the Defense Ministry initiated draft legislation in parliament to reform recruitment offices, acknowledging abuses that worsened under martial law.

In a war of attrition, adaptation itself has become part of Ukraine's strategy -- on the battlefield, at home and at the negotiating table.