What happened after Prigozhin's mutiny in June 2023?
On 24 June 2023, many were following closely the events taking place in Russia, believing that they were witnessing a coup d'état live on X (Twitter) in one of the world's nuclear powers. Many were also left questioning what happened in its aftermath and before Wagner's founder was killed/died in August that year.
This is an excerpt from a book I've recently read and greatly recommend, titled 'Death is our Business: Russian Mercenaries and the New Era of Private Warfare' by John Lechner, that paints a clearer picture:
While the Kremlin's propaganda machine was busy denigrating Prigozhin and Wagner, Putin met his former "chef" and the top commanders. "Well, you finally got your meeting," the president reportedly sneered. While the exact details are unclear, there are reports that Putin suggested Wagner's managing director, Andrei "Sedoi" Troshev, take over leadership. Prigozhin balked at any changes at the top—if he wasn't going to be minister of defense, then at least he would retain his leadership over Wagner. Only Prigozhin thought he would get away with mutiny; many Russia analysts were surprised he got a meeting in the first place and interpreted it as a sign of regime weakness.
Those expecting swift retribution from Putin would be disappointed. In fact, it was Igor "Strelkov" Girkin, the man who started the war in Donbas, who was the first to suffer. Like Prigozhin, Strelkov had been highly critical of the Kremlin's handling of the war in Ukraine—he mostly claimed that the Russian government wasn't doing enough. Even though he had no role in the mutiny, and was in fact no friend of Prigozhin's, Strelkov was arrested and sentenced to four years in prison on charges of "extremism."
Prigozhin, however, was still a free man and his fellow mutineers were also unscathed. One top Wagner commander told Russian media his men were "simply on vacation," and work would start soon in Belarus. Indeed, as part of Prigozhin's agreement with Lukashenko and the Russian government, the Belarusian leader proposed Wagner relocate its headquarters to his country. The PMC's instructors and mercenaries would help train the Belarusian army and, presumably, provide security for Lukashenko. For decades, Lukashenko deftly walked a tightrope between independence and economic reliance on Russia. In hosting Wagner, the Belarusian leader found a rare chance to exert leverage on Russia's domestic affairs. On July 19, the flag in Wagner's old base in Molkino was lowered, and a new one was raised at what appeared to be Wagner's new camp in Tsel, a Belarusian village in the center of the country.
At dusk, amid the constant drone of insects in the cooling Belarusian countryside, Prigozhin stood in front of hundreds of fighters: "Welcome to Belarus!" he shouted. "Ura!" rumbled the chorus. "We fought honorably," he continued. "You have done much for Russia. Now what's occurring on the front is a disgrace, in which we need not participate [...] Therefore, the decision has been made that we will spend some time here in Belarus. In that time, I am sure, we will make the Belarusian army the second best in the world [...] we will also prepare for new phase in Africa." Prigozhin then turned it over to Utkin, "the commander who gave us the name Wagner."
"This is not the end," Utkin roared, "but only the beginning." And, switching into English, he shouted: "Welcome to Hell!"