“Not planned, but we’ll see” — Nebenzya and the ritual of denial of mobilization before the State Duma elections

On August 20, Russia's Permanent Representative to the UN, Vasily Nebenzya, uttered a phrase that deserves to be dissected like a military order: “It has been said many times that mass mobilization is not needed right now, it is not planned and not expected, as far as I know. But we’ll see what happens” (quote from “Astra,” August 20). A diplomat of such rank does not say random words. This phrase contains everything: denial, the caveat “as far as I know,” and — most importantly — “we’ll see.” For those who read the documents that Zelensky mentioned back on August 11, this is not news. It is confirmation.

The word “we’ll see” as an official position

The statement was made a month before the elections to the State Duma — scheduled for September 18–20, 2026. On August 11, Zelensky, citing intelligence and “internal Russian documents,” stated that Putin's plan “is not particularly complicated”: after the so-called elections — a rapid additional mobilization of several hundred thousand people by the end of the year and as many again the following year. Kyiv claims to have access to internal documents; Moscow claims that mobilization “is not expected.” Both sides may be right. The only question is the date.

Denial before mobilization is not an exception to Russian practice, but its rule. In 2022, the Kremlin denied plans for mobilization all year and publicly rejected such a possibility just days before announcing a “partial” call-up of 300,000 reservists on September 21 (Reuters, September 21, 2022). Those who believed the official assurances of August 2022 learned about the mobilization from the television — along with the entire country. There is no reason to believe that the procedure has changed. Only the circumstances have changed: then the call-up was announced without any elections, now the Kremlin has an electoral campaign that needs to be completed in a calm environment.

Election as a fuse and as a calendar

The date of September 18–20 was chosen deliberately — it is a single voting day across the country, where “United Russia,” led by Dmitry Medvedev, is seeking a fourth consecutive constitutional mandate (based on the results of 2021 — 324 seats out of 450). The internal political logic is simple: mobilization in the midst of an electoral campaign is a blow to turnout, to ratings, and to the legitimacy of the result, which Moscow now needs to demonstrate both domestically and in negotiations. Therefore, even if a decision on a new wave of conscription has already been made, its announcement is almost certainly postponed until after the voting is completed. Nebenzya, denying mobilization “at the moment,” is telling the truth in a narrow sense — and at the same time leaves the door open just as much as necessary.

“After the so-called elections, he plans a rapid additional mobilization of several hundred thousand Russians by the end of the year, plus as many again next year” — Volodymyr Zelensky, August 11, 2026.

Why denial is voiced at the UN, not in Russia

The choice of venue is a separate story. Nebenzya is speaking not on Russian television, but at the UN headquarters, addressing foreign journalists. This message is for the external audience: for Western negotiators, for investors, for Ukrainian partners hoping for a “freeze.” The internal audience receives a different signal — not denial, but rhythm: contract recruitment continues, regional quotas are increasing, the spring draft went smoothly (according to “Novaya Gazeta Europe,” in the second quarter, recruitment rates stabilized at around 30,000 per month). Denial at the UN and recruitment within the country are not contradictions, but two halves of one policy.

It is appropriate to recall the Soviet school. In Soviet military science, a procedure for masking decisions about mobilization deployment was developed: the closer the date, the louder the denial. The formula “mobilization is not planned” in the mouth of an official is not intelligence data, but a tool for managing expectations. It is needed not to hide the decision from the enemy (intelligence sees the documents), but to conduct elections, maintain the ruble's exchange rate, and not provoke an outflow of men of conscription age. The outflow, by the way, is already happening: in 2022, queues at the borders after the announcement of the draft became a political event in their own right, and the Kremlin does not want a repeat of this scenario — especially in an election year.

Arithmetic that doesn’t add up without mobilization

Now — the numbers. The General Staff of the Armed Forces of Ukraine estimates Russia's total losses as of August 21 at approximately 1,472,640 people, of which 1,390 in the last 24 hours (Kyiv Independent, August 21). Ukrainian figures are traditionally inflated, and I am not inclined to take them at face value, but even a conservative estimate gives losses comparable to the level of recruitment. Zelensky articulated this without diplomacy back on July 24: “Russians are losing on the front more than they can recruit.” If recruitment is around 30,000 per month, and losses are tens of thousands even by modest estimates, the arithmetic does not add up. It can be reconciled in several ways:

• reduce the intensity of hostilities — but then why the offensive operation in Donbas;
• close the deficit with allies — Zelensky mentioned in July the preparation of an additional 30,000 North Korean soldiers;
• finally, announce mobilization — after the elections.

North Korean supplies have already become part of Russia's missile balance: according to GUR data for July, Russia has about 50 “Kinzhal” missiles and about 50 ballistic missiles of the KN-23 series (Kyiv Independent, August 20). Manpower through the same channel is a logical continuation: Russia's military logistics are already built on imports — from Iranian “Shaheds” to North Korean shells. But 30,000 is compensation, not a solution; they cover quarterly losses, not the strategic need for manpower in the second year of the offensive.

Forecast

Nebenzya did not say “never.” He said “not now” and “we’ll see.” In diplomatic language, this means: the decision is not publicly made, but it is also not off the agenda. If the internal documents that Kyiv speaks of exist — and I have no reason to doubt that at least some of them are real — the window for announcement opens immediately after September 20, when the electoral campaign ends and the new Duma convenes. The procedure will be the same as in 2022: denial until the last day, then “forced measure” and patriotic rhetoric. The question is not whether Moscow will say “yes” to mobilization. The question is what “we’ll see” will mean next time — it will mean “already decided.” One should not watch Nebenzya's phrasing, but the calendar: after September 20, the ritual of denial loses its meaning — and then the Kremlin's intentions will be spoken not in words, but in the agendas of military enlistment offices.