It is often said that journalism is “watching history unfold.” I have never felt that so acutely as on that night, six months ago, when I was standing on a hotel balcony in the center of Kyiv reporting live on a bellicose speech by Vladimir Putin. I listened to Russia’s president warning of “the eastern expansion of NATO,” and an “empire of lies” created by the US. There was “a genocide,” he claimed, in eastern Ukraine, where people had asked Russia for help. Invoking the Nazis and the Second World War, Putin insisted that Russia would need to be defended against those who had “taken Ukraine hostage” and were “trying to use it against our country and our people.” It was rhetoric I had heard before — concerning, but nothing new. Moments later, however, I heard the unmistakable booms of missiles falling in the darkness somewhere behind me, on the outskirts of the city. As the camera rolled, I pulled on a flak jacket and helmet, struggling to comprehend what I was hearing. Despite months of Russian military build-up on Ukraine’s borders, few observers had predicted the all-out assault that was underway. I certainly did not. More than 20 years of reporting from Russia — watching Putin tighten his grip on the country, covering its wars, at home and abroad — had not prepared me for this violent crescendo of his rule. A few hours later, as day broke, I found myself face to face with a group of soldiers defending an airbase on the outskirts of Kyiv. The dashcam on our CNN car recorded the encounter as I chatted with the bulky commander, negotiating permission to set up for a quick live shot. It was only after he had agreed that I mentioned the Russian troops we had heard had landed nearby. Where were they? He looked confused. “We are the Russians,” he barked. In a second, stunned realization in the space of a few stunning hours, I looked down and suddenly noticed the orange and black ribbons on his uniform. We had unexpectedly stumbled upon Russia’s crack airborne troops, who had been sent on an audacious mission to secure the airstrip, fly in reinforcements, and take Kyiv. Six months into this war, stalemate is setting in. Any hope of rapid progress by either side has evaporated. Matthew Chance But even as we briefly spoke, their plan started to fall apart. Ukrainian guns quickly turned on the Russian troops and, as we took cover across the road, a fierce gunfight broke out, forcing the Russians back. Within 24 hours the airbase was back in Ukrainian hands; the Russians we had met were most likely dead. Such a spirited and brave defense of Kyiv certainly seemed to take the Russian forces by surprise. They appeared to have been ordered to simply drive into the Ukrainian capital, as if the residents of the city would welcome them with open arms. Instead, Russian armor was greeted with Western-supplied anti-tank weapons, which cut through their Soviet-era tanks and personnel carriers like proverbial knives through butter. It is hard to describe the carnage that can be wrought upon a Russian armored column by latest generation of Javelin anti-tank missiles from the US, or their British equivalent, NLAW; but on a road bridge outside Kyiv a few days later, I walked among the still-smoldering wreckage of one such column, the stench of scorched flesh hanging over the twisted heavy metal. The image of Russia’s apparently mighty army, for years portrayed as one of the most advanced and formidable fighting forces in the world, had been exposed as merely skin deep; its tanks and machinery unable to defend themselves, its tactics flawed, and its personnel increasingly confused and demotivated. It had been a humiliating wake-up call. This week I interviewed a Russian soldier who deserted his regiment and fled the country into hiding. He had been part of one of Russia’s more successful operations, its assault on Kherson, but had grown increasingly dismayed and disillusioned by what he saw around him. Russia has moved its ideological goalposts multiple times during this conflict but some of its soldiers — confronted with Ukrainian people who are anything but happy to see them — now seem to see through the lies they are being told about a “liberation.” He knew he was destroying peaceful lives, the soldier told me, and this, he added, was a view widely shared by his comrades. Six months into this war, stalemate is setting in. Any hope of rapid progress by either side has evaporated. Advances are now measured in feet and inches, rather than miles. Ukraine, with its Western-supplied, longer-range, highly accurate weaponry has kept Russia at bay and prevented it achieving even the more limited territorial goals — to capture the whole of Donbas — it has set. But the Russians for their part have also held off Ukrainian attempts to regain significant territory. Counterattacks in Ukraine’s south have so far been limited. Is there any end in sight? Unfortunately, the answer is no. Perhaps the greatest problem is that the conflict has taken on existential significance for both sides. Not so long ago, some Ukrainian officials privately considered the possibility of giving up Crimea and even Donbas. Neither of those options is now acceptable to Kyiv. Likewise, Russia is so deeply committed to this “special military operation,” Putin can neither afford to lose nor settle for what limited gains his military has made so far. At the outset of the conflict, many hoped that Russia’s president had overstepped and made a fatal error that would end his regime from within. It is difficult to assess Putin’s position, even from inside Russia. His regime has criminalized dissent; those who might oppose this war have either been jailed, exiled or are simply staying silent. The economic impact, too, is hard to quantify. Russia claims to have ridden out the unprecedented sanctions imposed by the West but there can be little doubt that its economy will ultimately suffer immensely, ratcheting up the pressure on Putin at home. Right now, much depends on the West’s will to withstand the pressures this war is placing on it. A constant flow of Western weapons and ammunition is the only hope Ukraine has of keeping its state viable. Meanwhile Europe is searching for ways to wean itself off a longstanding dependency on Russian energy. If the West falters on either of these, Ukraine’s fate might be sealed. • Matthew Chance is a senior international correspondent at CNN. Twitter: @mchancecnn Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not necessarily reflect Arab News" point of view