IN THE original instalment of the “hybrid war” that it launched against Ukraine last year, Russia’s propaganda machine depicted its neighbour as a neo-Nazi state whose soldiers burnt villages and crucified children in the Russian-speaking east. But after the vast military parade Russia staged on May 9th, marking its victory over German (and by implication Ukrainian) fascism, a new story-line started to take shape. Ukraine is now portrayed as a failed state. It has defaulted on its debts and violated every international norm, and its Western sponsors are panicking. A new Maidan revolution could happen at any time—the smell of burnt tyres is in the air.

Western leaders, the story goes, have realised their mistake and are flocking to make amends with Vladimir Putin, the magnanimous Russian leader who tried to warn them against supporting Ukraine. First it was Angela Merkel, the German chancellor, who sought an audience with Mr Putin. Then it was John Kerry, America’s secretary of state, who flew all the way to Sochi to pay his respects. “America has realised that Ukraine is not worth spoiling its relationship with Russia,” proclaimed Channel One, Russia’s main television station. Russia’s military might and its alliance with China, the channel implied, had forced America back to the table.

The images of war which dominated Russian television for the past year have been supplanted by tales of diplomatic victories and Ukraine’s failures. If war resumes, according to Channel One, it will be launched by the desperate Ukrainians. This new narrative is not meant only for a Russian audience. No sooner had Mr Kerry left Sochi than Russia sent its emissaries to Kiev to tell Petro Poroshenko, Ukraine’s president, that America and Europe had dumped him. The other intended audience was the European Union, which on June 22nd will decide whether to prolong its sanctions on Russia. If America is willing to make amends, Moscow is asking, what is the point of spoiling good business with us?

In fact, American sources insist Mr Kerry’s visit was meant not to make amends but to ascertain Mr Putin’s thinking on several issues. Will Mr Putin work against America on Iran? Is he willing to co-operate in Syria? Will he stop meddling in Ukraine? The answer to all three questions seemed to be no. Mr Kerry also delivered a message in response to Mr Putin’s nuclear sabre-rattling: do not go too far in testing NATO’s military resolve, as it will backfire. Mr Putin spun Mr Kerry’s visit as a diplomatic triumph, but he now faces the question of what to do next.

The situation in Ukraine has reached a stalemate. Although Mr Putin endorsed the Minsk peace agreement last September, his goals are the opposite of those of Ukraine and the West. He wants the separatist Donbas to remain inside Ukraine, but as an open sore which Russia can prod when needed to control the country. Only once he has this “political settlement” will he discuss closing the border with Ukraine. The West wants Russia to secure the border and withdraw its forces from Ukraine, so that local elections in Donbas can pave the way for its reintegration. That would defy the purpose of Mr Putin’s exercise.

Yet the conflict cannot be frozen without a permanent Russian military presence and financial support for the rebels. After a year-long war, people in Donbas are not prepared to be governed by Kiev, but many are starting to resent the fighters who have seized power in their region, and who divide Russia’s humanitarian aid among themselves. If Russia withdraws, the rebel governments could fall. This may explain the fresh buildup of Russian troops and weaponry reported by observers along Russia’s border with Ukraine.

The infighting among the separatists has already started. On May 23rd Alexei Mozgovoi, a rebel commander who challenged the Moscow-backed government in Luhansk and insisted on “the struggle for independence”, was blown up in his car. His killing coincided with Russia’s abandonment, at least for now, of its project to create a large Russian enclave in Ukraine.

“The Kremlin wanted to conduct this war on the cheap,” says Alexander Baunov of the Carnegie Moscow Centre, a think-tank. The cost of restarting the war would be high. Russia would probably be hit with a fresh round of sanctions, which could bring down its banks. It would also have to send large numbers of regular troops to Ukraine, which most Russians do not support. The Kremlin’s hope is that Ukraine will simply implode under the weight of its economic problems.

But as Mr Kerry has learned, Mr Putin will not leave Ukraine alone. If all else fails, Russia will escalate, as its wargames in the region are meant to show. A full war would require greater mobilisation of the Russian public, control over all spheres of social life and broader repression. The Kremlin has already suppressed all independent political activity in the country. In the past week it has moved beyond politics.

On May 23rd Mr Putin signed a law on “unwanted foreign organisations” in Russia. Two days later, the justice ministry listed two of the country’s most respected foundations for science and education as “foreign agents”. One, the Liberal Mission, is led by Yevgeny Yasin, an 81-year-old former economics minister. The other, called Dynasty, supports natural science and education. It is financed by Dmitry Zimin, an 82-year-old scientist, philanthropist and founder of the country’s most successful telecommunications company, Vimpelcom. Dynasty steered clear of politics, seeing its goal rather as fostering a class of enlightened, independent-thinking men and women. The message from the Kremlin could not have been clearer: no activity independent of the state is welcome in Russia any longer.