The ongoing Russo-Ukrainian War has left the Donbas region suffering immensely.
This area, once central to discussions about how to resolve the conflict, is now seen ironically as a symbol of loss. Since 2014, Russia has taken control of most of Donbas, and there’s little hope of a swift resolution.
Historically, Donbas was an industrial hub during the Soviet era, but by the late 20th century, its decline was evident. Following Ukraine’s independence in 1991, the region became detrimental, plagued by corruption among local politicians, oligarchs, and organized crime. The working-class residents often described their lives as noble, yet their reality told a different story.
Anders Aslund from The Economist pointed out in 2015 that Donbas is characterized by its outdated mines, steel factories, and chemical plants, many of which are no longer operational. The rebels have further deteriorated infrastructure, complicating transport.
In 2016, Aslund estimated that restoring Donbas would cost around $20 billion. Fast forward to 2025, and that number has skyrocketed to an estimated $524 billion, a staggering increase. A significant portion of that sum is needed for Donbas, where the fiercest fighting has occurred.
Today, rebuilding Donbas alone might require around $200 billion, which is quite a hefty portion of Russia’s annual GDP, and just slightly more than Ukraine’s. Should the conflict drag on, this figure could easily double or triple.
Unfortunately, neither nation has the necessary funds. While there are suggestions that Putin could draw resources from Russian territories, the democratic government in Ukraine simply can’t afford such expenses. If either country attempts to revive Donbas, it risks bankruptcy, particularly as international support seems unlikely.
The challenges of owning Donbas extend beyond finances—there are also demographic, environmental, and political dilemmas to consider.
In 2016, Aslund noted the displacement crisis, with Ukraine reporting 1.2 million internally displaced individuals, while Russia cited around 500,000 refugees from Donbas. The United Nations estimated that roughly 100,000 people had relocated elsewhere. Since the full-scale Russian invasion in 2022, the displacement numbers likely increased significantly. Additionally, local militias in the self-recognized Luhansk and Donetsk regions have faced immense casualties, leaving an aging and impoverished population that doesn’t bode well for economic revival.
If peace is ever reached, how many refugees might return? And would individuals from Ukraine or other parts of Russia relocate there? These questions linger, often feeling rhetorical, especially given the environmental degradation of the area.
The conflict has led to what could be a severe environmental crisis, with issues like groundwater pollution from flooded mines. The ongoing fighting has embroiled sensitive regions since the invasion in February 2022.
Donbas is also likely to remain politically unstable. If Ukraine regains control, pro-Russian factions might provoke unrest; conversely, if Russia retains it, Ukraine might respond destructively in kind. The prospects for free and fair elections appear grim under such circumstances.
Despite these parallels, there’s a crucial difference between the two nations. Putin’s regime thrives on repression, while Ukraine’s democracy is in a constant struggle for unity and integration. While Putin can suppress opposition swiftly, Ukraine’s path is more complicated. Should it fail in this regard, the prospects of overcoming obstacles to join the European Union and NATO seem dim. Again, it may be a rhetorical point.
The ongoing instability in Donbas might have broader implications for Putin, detaching resources from other volatile regions within Russia and possibly inspiring a push for autonomy in non-Russian areas like the North Caucasus.
Historically, regions like Alsace-Lorraine and the Rhineland have witnessed centuries of conflict due to their significance. However, Donbas lacks that economic and social development. It stands as a bleak reality, and the prospects of change don’t look promising anytime soon.
Both Ukraine and Russia find themselves tied to Donbas due to constitutional obligations or fear of public backlash. From Putin’s perspective, the constitution may hold little weight, but relinquishing control would represent a major defeat. The same applies to Ukraine and its leadership under President Zelensky.
If winning entails such significant losses, can we redefine what it means to lose? It’s a question worth pondering.
Regardless of future outcomes, a potential peace agreement might offer Ukrainians a small sense of consolation: Russia’s continued entanglement with this devastated region reflects the consequences of Putin’s territorial goals. Over time, Russia may resemble the very qualities of Donbas—perhaps an ironic twist that could ultimately stand as Ukraine’s greatest triumph.
