10.11.2025.

OPINION: Russia’s Police Shortage: Will Putin Lose Control?

As the war in Ukraine enters its fourth year, Russia’s law enforcement apparatus, a cornerstone of state control, is facing an unprecedented staffing crisis. The manpower drop has been caused by stagnant low salaries – exacerbated by inflation – and reduced opportunities for corruption – driving skilled officers to defect to higher-paying military contracts in the Russo-Ukrainian war, where bonuses and hazard pay far outstrip civilian policing wages.

With one in three police positions unfilled nationwide since the full-scale invasion began in February 2022, the country’s internal security is under strain. This shortage has led to rising crime rates, increased violence and a potential shift in how the Kremlin maintains order at home. Interior Minister Vladimir Kolokoltsev acknowledged the problem in March, revealing that the Ministry of Internal Affairs is short 172,000 personnel – nearly 19% of its total force.

The Federal Penitentiary Service faces an even steeper deficit of 23%. The issue has escalated – in 2020, shortages hovered at 10-15%. Today, they have more than doubled, reaching up to three times that level across the country.

In regions east of the Urals and in the south, including the North Caucasus, police forces have shrunk by 50% over the past 5 years. Some areas report vacancy rates as high as 90%.

Low pay is a primary driver. After reforms in 2011 aimed at professionalizing the force, police salaries were increased. However, those gains were soon eroded by inflation and Russia’s stagnating economy.

A typical patrol officer now earns about 38,000 rubles per month – roughly $380 – less than some cashier jobs pay in Moscow. Historically, officers supplemented their income by petty graft, shaking down drivers and shop owners, but recent state efforts to curb corruption have reduced those opportunities.

As a result, many skilled officers – those trained in weapons handling and crowd control – have left for the military, where pay and bonuses are significantly higher.

Military contracts offer signing bonuses of up to 200,000 rubles ($2,470) – almost two years’ salary – and augmented hazard pay that outpaces civilian law enforcement roles.

With fewer officers available, response times to incidents have lengthened, and preventive policing has declined. As a result, crime rates in Russia are climbing sharply, and the nature of offenses is growing more violent. Offenses involving Illegal firearms, estimated at 25,000 in 2020, have surged due to smuggling from Ukraine and diversions from military stockpiles.

Homicides, assaults and armed robberies are on the rise, particularly in urban areas and remote regions in the south and east. Civilians, facing a gap in protection, are applying for gun permits in increasing numbers, further arming a restive population.

A recent incident illustrates the risks. Last week, a resident in Transbaikal Krai faced eviction and resisted relocation. When officials arrived, he opened fire, wounding several officers. Such confrontations were almost unthinkable a decade ago but are becoming more common. Now, even routine law enforcement often requires reinforcements from other agencies.

To fill the void, the Federal Security Service (FSB) and elements of the military are being deployed for crowd control and even property disputes. Neither of these agencies are equipped for everyday policing.

The return of veterans from Ukraine will exacerbate the situation. An estimated 500,000 troops have rotated back since 2022, with more to be expected if the conflict de-escalates or ends.

Frustration is mounting – reports of domestic violence, public altercations and criminal activity involving ex-soldiers are increasing sharply. These men bring not only skills but also weapons – often illegally retained – into communities already short on oversight.

Russia experienced similar issues after the Soviet-Afghan War in the 1980s, when returning veterans contributed to a spike in organized crime. But the scale today is larger: Ukraine has produced far more combatants than Afghanistan ever did.

Returning soldiers complain that they can’t find jobs that pay what they received in the military. Many are angry and a perceived lack of respect for their service exacerbates the discontent. In cities like Rostov and Novosibirsk, veteran-linked incidents have made headlines.

Using privately acquired weapons veteran-organized, radical nationalist groups – both ethnic Russian and minority – are forming informal militias to protect their neighborhoods. Vigilante groups could turn against each other – or the state.

It is unlikely that the Kremlin will ignore these developments – but it may be difficult to effect solutions. Putin has demonstrated a willingness to use force decisively, as seen in the handling of anti-war protests and the 2023 Wagner Group rebellion, but domestic use of force is sure to aggravate rather than quell instability.

For now, the Kremlin remains focused on the war front. Putin appears to be counting on a negotiated end to the conflict – one, of course, entirely favorable to Moscow. This aspirational victory would allow for reallocation of personnel and might be expected to boost civilian morale through a sense of victory. These are dreams.

With the war entering its fourth year, and casualties well over one million – it’s unlikely Russia’s people will feel anything other than relief that this long, pointless and costly war is over. Unrest, mostly quiet, is rising.

For the time being, Putin’s domestic security apparatus is playing “whack-a-mole” – quelling one incident only for others to emerge elsewhere. Prolonged repression will eventually breed resentment. In this charged environment, a crime problem could become a political crisis.

Public sentiment reflects the unease. Polls from independent outlets like Levada Center show declining trust in law enforcement, with many Russians expressing doubt about personal safety. In rural villages and sprawling suburbs, residents report feeling abandoned: burglaries go unreported because calling the police seems futile.

The war’s domestic toll extends beyond policing. Economic pressures – sanctions, inflation and labor shortages – compound the crisis. Prisons, understaffed and overcrowded, see more riots and escapes. Border regions, strained by refugee flows and smuggling, lack the manpower to enforce controls. In the North Caucasus, where insurgencies simmer, the halved police presence raises fears of renewed militancy.

For now, the Putin regime maintains a tight grip through surveillance and selective repression. But the staffing crisis underscores a broader vulnerability: a state stretched thin by its own ambitions.

As Ukraine holds firm on the battlefield, the costs of Putin’s imperial ambitions are reverberating homeward. Without reforms – higher pay, incentives to retain officers or a drawdown in Ukraine – the hollowing out of Russia’s police will continue.

Things may be calm now, but the question is not if unrest will spread, but how far and how fast. A destabilized Russia could alter the war’s dynamics, prompting either a desperate escalation or an internal pivot.

For Ukrainians, enduring daily bombardments, the irony is stark: Moscow’s aggression abroad is sowing discord within. As the conflict grinds on, Russia’s police shortage is not just a bureaucratic headache – it’s a symptom of a system under siege from its own choices.