In the hazy, brutal landscape of modern warfare, truth is often the first casualty—but now it is being replaced by something more insidious: convincingly fake victory. According to a new report from the Institute for the Study of War (ISW), Russian military and propaganda channels are increasingly leaning on videos created or manipulated with artificial intelligence to claim they have captured Ukrainian towns and villages. These aren’t just amateur edits or clumsy photoshops; they are carefully crafted digital illusions meant to look like authentic drone footage, soldier selfies, or flag-raising ceremonies. The ISW, which has been tracking Russian military operations and information tactics for years, sounded the alarm after spotting a disturbing trend: between June and August alone, at least 35 videos that may have been faked using AI were circulating across pro-Russian channels. In 10 of those cases, the use of artificial intelligence was confirmed with a high degree of certainty. More troubling still, the videos featured service members from at least 10 different Russian regiments and brigades, suggesting that this is not a niche experiment by a lone blogger but a coordinated pattern of digital deception. The implication is clear: when you can no longer trust your eyes, the entire front line becomes a stage.
The numbers, as stark as they are, likely only tell part of the story. The ISW was careful to note that the actual number of AI-generated or AI-edited videos is probably much higher than the 35 identified, because the tools currently available for detecting synthetic content have serious limitations. Deepfakes and machine-generated imagery have become so sophisticated that even trained analysts and automated systems can miss the subtle glitches that give them away. What makes this particularly alarming is the scale and the seeming organization behind it. These videos are not random noise; they are being produced by military units and distributed through influential Telegram channels, giving them a veneer of authenticity. When a viewer sees a muddy soldier in camouflage waving a flag over a ruined building, with a caption claiming that a specific battalion captured a specific village, it is easy to believe—especially if you are already inclined to trust the source. The ISW’s finding that at least 10 distinct Russian regiments and brigades are represented in these suspect videos suggests a systemic effort to manufacture victories for domestic consumption and international distraction. It’s as if the Russian military is trying to create a parallel reality where its advances are inevitable and Ukrainian defenses are crumbling, regardless of what is actually happening on the ground.
One of the most glaring examples highlighted by the ISW came on July 27, when a Russian military blogger known as DIVGEN published a video that was meant to serve as proof of a major battlefield success. In the footage, a Russian soldier is seen waving a flag, while the accompanying text boasts that soldiers from the 3rd Motorized Rifle Battalion of the 127th Regiment, together with “Storm-V” units, had captured the village of Bilyi Kolodyazh in the Kharkiv region. It sounds like a straightforward battlefield documentary, but to the trained eye—and even to the untrained one—things quickly fall apart. The ISW noted that the soldier’s body had unnatural proportions, as if his limbs had been stretched or compressed by an algorithm that didn’t quite understand human anatomy. More damningly, as the drone’s camera zooms out, the soldier suddenly disappears from the frame altogether, as if he were never really there. That kind of glitch is a classic tell of AI-generated content, where the synthetic subject exists only within a narrow set of pixels and vanishes when the scene changes. The video was likely intended to boost morale at home and project an image of unstoppable momentum, but instead it became a case study in how digital tools can be used to fabricate military reality. The fact that such a flawed video was released with such certainty speaks volumes about how desperate the information war has become.
The pattern continued on August 20, when the Telegram channel “Yuzhny Rubezh” published another video that seemed to confirm Russian control over the village of Mykolaipillia in the Donetsk region. In this clip, a Russian flag is supposedly placed on the roof of a house, a classic symbol of territorial conquest. But in a bizarre twist, the flag appears to dissolve into the building’s structure, literally melting into the roof as if it were never there. The ISW flagged this as another likely product of artificial intelligence, a digital phantom meant to substitute for actual soldiers planting a real flag. Perhaps the most telling development came with the alleged capture of Svyatogorsk in the Donetsk region. Even within the Russian information ecosystem, skepticism began to grow. The Telegram channel “Voenny Osvedomitiel,” which is not known for pro-Ukrainian sympathies, published two videos that it assessed as being generated by a neural network. This is a remarkable moment: when even the propagandists start fact-checking each other and casting doubt on official narratives, the deception becomes unsustainable. It’s one thing for Ukrainian sources to call out Russian fakes; it’s quite another for the Russian “Z-channels” to publicly question the authenticity of their own side’s triumphant videos. That internal crumbling of credibility is a sign that the manufactured victories are not fooling everyone.
The broader danger of these AI-manipulated materials cannot be overstated. They are not just harmless digital parlor tricks; they have real consequences. By flooding the information space with fake footage of flags being raised in villages that may still be under Ukrainian control, the Russian side can create a false impression of the situation on the front lines. This can shape public opinion in Russia, where domestic audiences are already starved of truthful news, but it can also influence international observers, analysts, and even policymakers who rely on open-source intelligence. When fake claims of territorial control are repeated often enough, they can begin to take on a life of their own, muddying the waters of diplomatic negotiations and military assessments. The ISW explicitly warned that such materials can be used by the Russian side to make claims of control over territories that are not actually substantiated by ground truth. In an era where wars are fought not only with tanks and missiles but also with pixels and algorithms, the ability to manufacture convincing evidence of victory is a weapon in itself. It allows a military to claim progress it hasn’t made, to demoralize an enemy that hasn’t actually lost territory, and to create a false narrative for history books that future generations might read.
Amid this swirling fog of digital deception, real attacks continue to unfold, serving as a grim reminder that the war is being fought in flesh and blood, not just in code. Earlier, Russia attacked Izyum with KAB guided missiles, and among the casualties was a two-month-old infant—a tragedy that no amount of AI-generated propaganda can obscure or justify. The contrast could not be starker: on one side, fake videos of soldiers waving flags over buildings that may not be captured; on the other, real bombs falling on real towns, killing real children. Then, on September 10, Kyiv itself came under drone attack. In the Svyatoshynsky District, a drone crashed in an open, forested area near a shopping center. According to preliminary reports, there was no fire and no casualties, a relief that came after months of relentless aerial terror. In the Solomyanskyi district, another enemy drone struck the roof of a four-story business center, sending emergency services rushing to the scene to assess the damage and investigate the circumstances. These incidents may not have produced the dramatic, flag-waving imagery that the propagandists crave, but they are the real face of this war: unpredictable, destructive, and inescapable. For every fake victory posted on Telegram, there is a real child’s life cut short, a real roof torn open, a real community shaken. The truth may be harder to fake than a video, but it is also infinitely more painful—and it cannot be edited away.

