Hi everyone!

As Russia prepares for the upcoming State Duma (parliament) elections from September 18–20, 2026, tremendous speculation exists as to whether Moscow will initiate a nationwide military mobilization to mount one final effort to defeat Ukraine in the fifth year of Putin’s war, while Russia moves closer to exhausting its manpower base.

In our new special report, “Russia’s Force-Generation Strategy After the Duma Elections,” Senior Fellow Roger N. McDermott evaluates the trajectory of Moscow’s military recruitment pipeline, the viability of a post-election call-up, and the long-term outlook for Russian force generation as Moscow struggles to find enough military personnel to offset its battlefield losses, now estimated to be 1.4 million, killed, wounded and missing through June 2026.

Key Takeaways & Findings

• Post-Election Mobilization Dynamics: While an immediate post-election announcement in September is politically sensitive, a post-ballot decision implemented during October or late autumn is far more credible. However, Moscow is more likely to intensify its current model of “mobilization by other means”—combining targeted compulsory measures, financial incentives, regional targets, and administrative pressure—rather than declaring an open nationwide draft of 300,000–500,000 men.

• Force-Generation System Under Strain: Russian volunteer recruitment saw a sharp drop in Q1 2026 (70,500–71,200 new contracts, or ~800/day) before recovering slightly to ~1,000/day (see graph below). While the system has not failed, its efficiency is rapidly declining. Municipalities, employers, bailiffs, and prison officials are constantly pressured to sustain manpower intake to replace battlefield losses rather than building substantial net force growth.

• Military Impact vs. Immediate Effect: A potential public target of 300,000–500,000 personnel should be understood as a phased program spanning several months aimed at rotational relief, filling rear-area roles, and building operational depth for 2027. Bottlenecks in training capacity, equipment, junior leadership, and Ukrainian interdiction risks prevent such a force from rapidly converting into immediate combat power before winter.

• Evaluating the Evidence: While digital registry reforms, administrative updates, and local decrees confirm that the Russian state has significantly enhanced its technical capacity for a call-up, there is currently no evidence confirming that President Vladimir Putin has authorized a final mobilization plan, quota, or official execution date.

It is critically important to understand the real mechanics of Russia’s force generation in terms of assessing the long-term sustainability of Moscow’s ongoing military operations and operational dynamics going into 2027, which will likely be a decisive year in the war. Please download the full report: 👉 here.

Sincerely,

Glen E. Howard

President, The Saratoga Foundation

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By Alexander Melikishvili

Speaking at the XXII Forum of Interregional Cooperation in Omsk on July 25, Kazakhstan’s President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev for the first time suggested to his Russian counterpart that the war in Ukraine be frozen. He characterized the war as an “interstate conflict” and emphasized that its nature was “not entirely clear to many, including us.” Tokayev also categorically rejected the idea of Kazakhstan as a mediator between Russia and Ukraine. The Kazakh leader’s choice of venue could not have been better, as Russia has such a close level of cooperation at the regional level only with select countries in its “near abroad,” including Armenia, Belarus, and Uzbekistan.

The timing of Tokayev’s remarks reflects the urgency that Kazakhstan feels due to the adverse impact the war has on the operations of the Caspian Pipeline Consortium (CPC) at Russia’s Black Sea port of Novorossiysk. Kazakhstan is vitally dependent on the uninterrupted operations of the CPC’s Yuzhnaya Ozereyevka terminal near Novorossiysk because roughly two thirds of its oil exports reach global energy markets (mainly Europe) through that chokepoint.

On July 17, a news report, citing the CPC’s Telegram channel, noted that the ExxonMobil-chartered tanker Nordic Zenith (sailing under the Liberian flag) was attacked by two drones en route to the CPC terminal, where it was scheduled to load Kazakh oil. The drones caused a fire aboard the vessel, leading to the partial evacuation of the crew, but the vessel remained afloat. On July 19–20, more tankers came under Unmanned Aerial Vehicle (UAV) attacks, according to two press releases issued by the CPC. On July 19, the Liberian-flagged ASIA and Marshall Islands-flagged NISSOS IOS were attacked by UAVs while they were loading from the CPC’s single point moorings (SPMs) 1 and 2. On July 20, the Cameroon-flagged tanker NELSA was attacked by UAVs as it was loading at SPM-1. None of these attacks resulted in any sunk vessels, oil spills, or damage to the CPC’s assets, including SPM-1 and SPM-2. Interestingly, neither the CPC press releases nor the press statement released by Kazakhstan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs on July 19 mention Ukraine by name.

Kazakhstan’s Black Sea Nightmare

The attacks prompted the CPC to temporarily suspend its operations. However, because Kazakhstan is so dependent on Novorossiysk for its oil exports, any disruptions at the CPC terminal imply that oil production at its three main oil fields—Kashagan, Karachaganak, and Tengiz—must be reduced. On July 23, Kazakhstan’s Ministry of Energy announced that a “controlled adjustment” of production levels had been introduced without specifying its scale. Nonetheless, two anonymous industry sources told Reuters that, as of July 22, the extraction of oil and gas condensate in Kazakhstan had contracted to 1.63 million barrels a day (compared to the daily average of 2.07 million since the start of the month). Per these accounts, daily oil production at the Tengiz field had to be lowered to 406,000 barrels on July 22, instead of 925,000.

On July 27, Reuters reported that CPC interruptions resulted in oil production being halved in Kazakhstan. Chevron owns a 15% stake in the CPC and a 50% stake in the Tengizchevroil international consortium that is developing the Tengiz field, which explains why Chevron raised its concerns with the Trump administration, as reported by The Wall Street Journal on July 24.

Kazakhstan can certainly withstand short-term CPC interruptions, even if they stretch into weeks or months, because it has ample foreign currency and gold reserves, which, as of the end of June, stood at $127.31 billion, according to the National Bank of Kazakhstan. Commenting on the CPC interruptions on July 24, the Chairman of the National Bank, Timur Suleymenov, stated that Kazakhstan’s central bank was ready to stabilize the exchange rate, if necessary. It appears that the crisis has been averted, as Kazakhstan’s Ministry of Energy reported on July 27 that the offshore loading of tankers had resumed at the CPC’s SPM-1 and SPM-2. In particular, the Liberian-flagged tanker SEA MAJESTY and the Greek-flagged tanker Milos were receiving Kazakh oil (belonging to Tengizchevroil) without any interruptions. While Kazakhstan and US energy majors can breathe a sigh of relief, their critical dependence on the CPC remains unchanged.

No short- or even medium-term solutions exist to fix this problem, as Kazakhstan sends about 60 million tons of oil for export via the CPC on an annual basis. Given the existing pipeline topography in the region, namely that the Baku–Tbilisi–Ceyhan (BTC) and/or Atasu–Alashankou pipelines (to China) are limited in their export capabilities, it is simply not possible to reroute this much oil via these energy outlets. BTC capacity is 1.2 million barrels per day (bpd), while the CPC pipeline is 1 million bpd, and any effort to reroute additional oil from this overland pipeline to Azerbaijan via the Caspian is virtually impossible.

These logistical bottlenecks are further exacerbated by the surprising announcement of the Russian Ministry of Defense on July 22, according to which Russia’s exclusive economic zone (EEZ), extending 200 nautical miles from the coast, has been declared unsafe for commercial navigation due to attacks by Ukrainian UAVs and seaborne USVs (unmanned surface vehicles). Although this announcement is advisory and does not prohibit vessels from entering Russia’s EEZ in the Black Sea, it will definitely increase insurance premiums, making maritime transportation of all cargo, including oil, more expensive. It reflects the continuously deteriorating maritime security situation in the northern part of the Black Sea, where, according to the Ukrainian military, 124 vessels linked to Russia were attacked between July 8 and July 20, including 89 tankers, as quoted by Bloomberg on July 23.

Meanwhile, Russia is also not sitting idly by. It is regularly attacking vessels carrying cargo to and from Ukraine. On July 21, for example, it attacked a Liberian-flagged LPG tanker en route to the Ukrainian port of Reni, wounding three crew members, Agence France-Presse reports. On July 19, in the gravest maritime attack to date, Russia launched three Kh-59/Kh-69 cruise missiles against the Guinea-Bissau-flagged (and Turkish-owned) bulk carrier GOLDEN LEO (carrying grain) in close proximity to the port of Odesa, killing ten sailors, including four Indian nationals, and prompting the Indian government to summon the Russian Chargé d’Affaires, Mr Vladimir Ladanov, on July 21.

Outlook

Following the formal warning that Ukrainian authorities reportedly received from the Trump administration late last week not to attack CPC assets and non-Russian tankers in the Black Sea due to concerns expressed by the CEO of Chevron, Mike Wirth, it is very likely that Ukraine will comply. Officials in Ukraine are eager to capitalize on the US commitments made after the NATO summit in Ankara on July 7–8, including the license to manufacture interceptor missiles for Patriot air defense systems that are vital for shooting down Russian missiles. Thus, Kyiv would not want to jeopardize this positive momentum in its at times tumultuous relations with Washington.

Kazakhstan greatly matters to the United States because it accounts for 2% of global oil production. Knocking Kazakhstan’s oil exports offline by destroying the CPC terminal (all three SPMs) would increase oil prices, which is something that the White House is keen to avoid, especially ahead of the contentious midterm elections in the United States in November. It is almost certain that the CPC and Novorossiysk are a priority issue to be discussed by Trump and Zelensky when they met in Washington earlier today.

As for Kazakhstan’s options, there is a trans-Caspian pipeline project that would leave Russia out, connecting Kazakhstan to Azerbaijan across the Caspian seabed, but here the biggest impediments will be Russia and Iran. The Caspian littoral states abide by the 2018 Convention on the Legal Status of the Caspian Sea, which contains clauses that both Russia and Iran interpret as allowing them to veto any trans-Caspian projects under the pretext of environmental concerns.

Russia will do everything within its power to derail any pipeline project that would reduce Kazakhstan’s dependence on the CPC and Novorossiysk. This includes Kazakhstan’s oil pipeline to China, which has limited throughput capacity and would have to be significantly expanded, requiring considerable capital investment. More importantly, at present Russia uses the Atasu–Alashankou pipeline to export 10 million tons of oil annually to China via Kazakhstan. In fact, Kazakhstan and Russia signed an agreement only recently to increase this volume by 2.5 million tons.

Lastly, Kazakhstan’s predicament is the toxic legacy of Nursultan Nazarbayev, Kazakhstan’s First President, who failed to see the wisdom of maintaining diverse oil export routes. Although Tokayev has consistently spoken of the need to diversify oil export routes since assuming the presidency in 2019, little has been done in practice apart from the modest volumes sent in transit via the Baku-Tbilisi Ceyhan pipeline.

About the Author:

Alex Melikishvili is a senior country risk analyst with more than a decade of experience working in the private sector (S&P Global, IHS Markit) with a focus on Eurasian security. Alex holds a master’s degree in International Affairs from the George Washington University’s Elliott School of International Affairs.

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by Andrew McGregor

In the latest phase of an insurgency that began in 2012, the ability of Mali’s military regime to fend off a rebel insurgency has been sorely tested by a rebel offensive that began in April with coordinated attacks across Mali’s 479,000 square miles (by comparison, Texas covers a total area of 268,596 square miles).

The offensive is being carried out by an unlikely partnership of two Tuareg-dominated groups – the Salafi-Jihadist Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wa’l-Muslimin (JNIM, led by Iyad Ag Ghali) and the separatist Front de Libération de l’Azawad (FLA, led by Alghabass Ag Intalla). Though the latter seek the creation of Azawad, an independent state in northern Mali, Ag Ghali and his followers seek the transformation of Mali into an Islamic State based on Shari’a. For the purpose of operations, the two groups work closely together in northern Mali, while operations in the Central and Southern regions of Mali are often carried out by JNIM alone.

Mali’s military regime is defended by the Forces Armées Maliennes (FAMa, led by Chief of the General Staff of the Armed Forces Élisée Jean Dao) and their Russian partners, the Africa Corps, which succeeded the Russian Wagner Group in June 2025. The Wagner “withdrawal” (many Wagner personnel in Mali simply switched over to the new Africa Corps) was accompanied by a significant uptick in JNIM and FLA attacks, most notably in regions of Mali where the militant groups had not previously operated. There is significant friction between FAMa and the Russians, who tend to operate independently while helping themselves to FAMa arms and equipment. The Russian military presence has been accompanied by a sharp increase in human rights abuses and civilian casualties, though all parties to the conflict have demonstrated little respect for civilian life.

The coordinated attacks in April (which included strikes in the capital itself) shook the Malian regime and led to the loss of a number of population centers in the north, including Kidal, Aguelhoc and Tessalit in the Kidal region, Ber in the Timbuktu region, and Tessit in the Gao region. The loss of Kidal came as a shock to the Africa Corps, which had proclaimed its role in taking the rebel stronghold in November 2023 by raising a Russian flag over the city. The insurgents also succeeded in killing FAMa commander Sadio Camara during an attack on the Kati military base outside Bamako.

Rebel Offensive – July 2026

On July 4, the FLA and JNIM launched coordinated attacks in Aguelhoc (retaken by government forces after April), Anéfis, and Gao in the north, Sévaré in the central region (home to a large army base and an airport), and at the prison at Kéniéroba in the south (46 miles from Bamako), where many opposition figures are held (the latter attack failed to free any prisoners). The dispersed July attacks followed similar the pattern used in April. Airstrikes were carried out against JNIM/FLA fighters concentrated at Aguelhoc in the northeast, where the latest insurgency began with the slaughter of the Aguelhoc FAMa garrison by jihadists under the command of Iyad Ag Ghali in 2012.

Anéfis has a small population of 8,000 residents, but is strategically located and home to a base used by both FAMa and the Africa Corps. Most of Anéfis was taken by the rebels on July 4, but parts of the Malian/Russian garrison continued to fight, with the Russians defending their position with drones. Intense fighting followed at Anéfis on the 5^th and 6^th as rebel reinforcements poured in on 4x4 trucks. By July 7, FAMa drones and fighter jets began taking a toll on attackers. As fighting continued on the 8^th, a Malian/Russian relief column of 60 vehicles left Gao for Anéfis, with air cover provided by helicopters and surveillance drones.

The militants inflicted a devastating July 9 attack on the relief convoy. Military assistance was required from Niger and Burkina Faso to relieve the attack on the Russian/Malian column. Nonetheless, FAMa issued a proclamation that declared the situation had stabilized. Before switching to regional sweeps, FAMa claimed the elimination of 330 “terrorists” and the re-occupation of Anéfis. During a ceremony in Bamako celebrating the FAMa/AC “victory” in Anéfis, an Africa Corps speaker declared “Terrorism is a scourge created by Western countries to divide and dominate.”

The FAMa Strategy

FAMa commander Elisée Jean Dao led Mali’s National Guard (the“Brown Berets”) in the January 2013 Battle of Konna (the first significant reverse for Iyad Ag Ghali and the jihadist coalition) and the retaking of Gao from the Islamists. After advanced military training in France in 2015, Dao supported Colonel-Major Assimi Goïta’s post-coup junta in 2020. Dao served as ambassador to Gabon and China before becoming Mali’s Chief of General Staff of the Armed Forces in May 2026. His appointment in May came at a time of continuing purges of senior FAMa officers suspected of ties to opposition figures and would-be mutineers.

General Dao insisted on July 11 that FAMa and its Russian partners had delivered a severe blow to the insurgents by allowing them to “concentrate their forces” in Anéfis before launching a coordinated counter-offensive that inflicted heavy losses. According to Dao, this strategy allowed government forces to target rebel military assets rarely caught out in the open, including armored vehicles and heavy weapons, as well as large numbers of the usual motorcycles and “technicals” that provide mobility for the insurgents. According to the general, one thousand rebels were “neutralized” at a cost of 30 soldiers killed and 60 wounded in the relief operation.

In the jubilation that followed FAMa’s expulsion of the insurgents from Anéfis, General Dao also spoke at length about the strategy that enabled the “victory.” The general began by describing the government’s April loss of the cities of Kidal and Tessalit as “a ruse” that brought the insurgents “within range.” Anéfis, in a “truly flat terrain,” was held as “a kind of bait” to draw out the enemy’s armored vehicles, anti-aircraft missiles, anti-tank guns and artillery for destruction, a method of bypassing the insurgents’ concealment skills: “Operation Anéfis was part of a comprehensive strategy for us that allowed us to gradually reduce the enemy’s capabilities, and well, they let themselves be caught, hoping to gain control…”

Financial incentives are another part of the regime’s strategy; a reward of 2 billion CFA francs ($3.5 million) was offered in June by Mali’s government for information leading to the “capture or neutralization” of JNIM leader Ag Ghali. Further rewards were offered for Ag Ghali’s Fulani deputy, Amadou Koufa, and Tuareg separatist leader Alghabass Ag Intalla.

*Image above: 50 Captured FAMa Soldiers After JNIM Convoy Attack

July 18 Ambush

Only days after General Dao proclaimed the success of the regime’s strategy, a FAMa convoy leaving Anéfis for Gao was ambushed near Tabankort by the jihadists and separatists on July 18, with over 50 soldiers and allies from pro-government militias killed and 24 taken prisoner. A convoy of Africa Corps personnel was reported to have left earlier for Gao; some reports claim no Russians were involved in the July 18 ambush, while others claim some Russians were with the FAMa convoy and among the known dead. Echoing the ruthless and demoralizing slaughter of bound FAMa prisoners at Aguelhoc by Ag Ghali’s Ansar al-Din movement in 2012, it appears that many of the prisoners taken in the latest ambush were massacred. Several armored vehicles were reported to have been taken intact, replacing earlier rebel losses.

The Role of Algeria

An Africa Corps statement claimed that that two leading Tuareg militants were eliminated during the fighting; FLA military leader Mbarek Ag Akli and JNIM military planner ‘Abd al-Rahman Zaza (Ag Akli was later seen alive on video discussing the battle). An unconfirmed local report alleged that Iyad Ag Ghali was seriously wounded in the battle and was transported with other wounded militants to an Algerian military hospital in the Saharan city of Tamanrasset. Malian authorities have frequently accused Algeria of harboring Tuareg militants over several decades, even though Algiers has a long record of acting as a mediator between Bamako and Tuareg rebel movements in northern Mali.

Mali’s relations with Algeria began to improve in July, a year after Algeria took down a Malian surveillance drone allegedly operating in its airspace. The sudden rapprochement is viewed as benefitting Algeria and Russia while further weakening French influence in the region and forestalling American efforts at a rapprochement with Mali. Russia favors the revival of the never fully implemented 2015 Algiers Accord as a means of restoring peace and security to the restless north after years of warfare and Russian military intervention has failed to provide a military solution.

Foreign Interference?

According to General Dao, the type of weapons FAMa is now encountering in the field are more suggestive of those held by a state rather than a rebel group, a situation the general believes is indicative of foreign support for the insurgents. Regime-friendly media in Mali attributes FAMa and Africa Corps difficulties to the entry of “battalions of mercenaries” into the conflict, including Algerians, Polisario fighters and Ukrainian instructors, all under the supervision of French legionnaires.

It was further claimed in the Malian press that the July 4 offensive was committed by “terrorists in the pay of Western powers” led by French president Emmanuel Macron “and some neighboring countries,” notably Algeria and Mauritania, who are alleged to be “awaiting the green light” from Paris before launching attacks against FAMa positions.

Ag Ghali, meanwhile, has called the cooperation of Mali’s ruling military council with “Russian proxies” traitorous, and has cited it as a reason to reject any negotiations with the state.

Outlook

The expansion of insurgent operations to Central and Southern Mali as well as the massive Northern province has forced FAMa to spread its forces across the nation rather than address the rebellion in the north alone, the traditional pattern. The joint insurgent strategy involves pulling Malian and Russian military resources in several directions at once, exposing convoys rushing to one hot-spot or another to ambushes in unfamiliar country.

Despite promoting a Salafist religious belief foreign to most Tuareg Muslims, Iyad Ag Ghali not only survives, but grows in power and influence every year. This is attributed to his strategic understanding of the Sahel conflict, one that has brought ideologically opposed Tuareg separatists under his leadership.

Does Ag Ghali seek the creation of a Chad-type situation, where a tiny desert minority (in Chad’s case, the Zaghawa) controls a large and diverse nation by force of arms and exclusion of other groups in the power structure? Given that the Tuareg are as divisive as the Zaghawa (both rebels and rulers in Chad hail from the same group), the main challenge to a Tuareg-led Islamist government in Mali would inevitably come primarily from rival armed Tuareg groups, including not only the separatists but also those (mostly from the vassal class) still loyal to Bamako. Unless Ag Ghali believes he can actually replace the existing government with that of an Islamic State, then it is likely that the growing number of attacks in the center and southern provinces and the blockade of fuel destined to Bamako are designed less to seize territory than to destabilize Mali’s military regime by exposing its weaknesses, internal rivalries and reliance upon an unpopular and erratic military partner, the Russian Africa Corps.

About the Author:

Dr. Andrew McGregor is director of Aberfoyle International Security, a Toronto-based consultancy specializing in the security issues of Africa and the Islamic world.

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Thank you for your support! Please remember that The Saratoga Foundation is a non-profit 501(c)(3) organization. Your donations are fully tax-deductible. If you seek to support The Saratoga Foundation, you can make a one-time donation by clicking on the PayPal link below! You can also subscribe to our website to support our work.

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By Vasif Huseynov

On July 16, Azerbaijani Foreign Minister Jeyhun Bayramov arrived in Moscow for a two-day official visit, holding talks with his Russian counterpart Sergey Lavrov on July 17. The two ministries used the occasion to sign a Plan of Consultations for 2026–2027 and to review the full range of bilateral relations — political dialogue, trade, transport, the Caspian, and the South Caucasus. On paper, this was a scheduled diplomatic reset. In substance, it marked the closing chapter of a year-and-a-half-long standoff in which the pace and conditions of reconciliation were largely set by Baku.

A few days earlier, at the fourth Shusha Global Media Forum on July 13, President Ilham Aliyev had already previewed this outcome. When asked about the state of ties with Moscow, Aliyev said: “Relations between our countries are developing very positively. You mentioned the difficulties. Yes, we all know about them. But what is important is that this period is now behind us. I would say that our relations have been fully normalized.”

That formulation, however, was not left to stand on its own. In Moscow four days later, Bayramov used almost the same identical language, telling Lavrov’s press conference that the two states had overcome their difficult period and fully normalized the entire spectrum of bilateral relations. Lavrov, for his part, stopped short of using the phrase himself, merely noting that Moscow had taken note of Aliyev’s statement and shared Baku’s understanding of the current situation — a small but telling asymmetry in how each side chose to characterize the same reconciliation.

A Crisis Moscow Could Not Simply Talk Its Way Out Of

To understand why the sequencing of Russia-Azerbaijan rapprochement matters, it is worth recalling how deep the rupture had been. On December 25, 2024, an Azerbaijan Airlines Embraer 190 flying from Baku to Grozny was struck by Russian air defenses as Ukrainian drones entered Russian airspace, then diverted across the Caspian and crashed near Aktau, Kazakhstan, killing 38 of the 67 people aboard. Moscow’s initial explanations — including theories about a bird strike or an onboard gas cylinder explosion — were dismissed by Aliyev at the time as absurd theories unbecoming of the response he expected from Moscow. Baku’s position was clear and sequential: acknowledgment of responsibility, an apology, accountability for those responsible, and compensation.

It took until October 9, 2025, when Putin met Aliyev in Dushanbe, for the Russian president to explicitly acknowledge that Russian air defense missiles had detonated near the aircraft, and to commit to compensation. Even then, it took another six months of technical negotiations before the two foreign ministries jointly confirmed, on April 15, 2026, that all outstanding issues — including the payment of compensation — had been resolved, with the crash attributed to an unintentional action of an air defense system in Russian airspace. Russian Deputy Foreign Minister Mikhail Galuzin, asked shortly afterward to confirm the settlement, said only that all issues linked to the tragedy’s aftermath had been resolved, declining to discuss specifics out of consideration for the victims’ families. No compensation figures were ever disclosed. But the sequence itself is instructive: full normalization did not proceed until Baku’s conditions had been met.

Baku’s Balanced, Multi-Vector Foreign Policy

What followed the Moscow talks reinforced the fact that reconciliation was never intended as a return to dependency. Days later, Aliyev traveled to Germany for an official visit, where he and Chancellor Friedrich Merz signed a joint declaration establishing a strategic partnership spanning energy, transport, green hydrogen, digital transformation, and industrial modernization. Aliyev used the occasion to highlight Azerbaijani gas flowing to ten EU member states and recent visits by European Council President António Costa and Commission President Ursula von der Leyen to Baku. Restoring dialogue with Moscow and deepening ties with Berlin within the same week is a fairly clear illustration of what a genuinely multi-vector foreign policy looks like in practice: no single relationship is allowed to define the country’s options, and no single capital is treated as indispensable.

This is the frame through which the Russia file is best read — not as a standalone bilateral story, but as one strand in a foreign policy that has spent several years methodically diversifying. Azerbaijan has hosted senior European Union officials, expanded the Middle Corridor and Trans-Caspian energy links, deepened the Organization of Turkic States framework, forged closer ties with the United States, including a visit by the Vice President of the United States, and positioned itself as a facilitator during the U.S.-Iran war, all the while keeping its channel to Moscow open. Restoring ties with Russia does not reverse that trajectory so much as complete it, by resolving the one relationship that had been operating in crisis mode while every other vector continued to move forward.

Moscow’s Weakened Hand in the South Caucasus

Another development shaping Russian rapprochement with Azerbaijan is that in the past eighteen months since the crash Russia’s position in the South Caucasus has rapidly eroded, which went far beyond Moscow’s bilateral standing with Baku. The clearest marker came on August 8, 2025, when the United States brokered a peace framework between Armenia and Azerbaijan at the White House, under which Washington secured a long-term arrangement to develop the transit corridor through Armenia’s Syunik province linking mainland Azerbaijan to its Nakhchivan exclave. Branded the Trump Route for International Peace and Prosperity (TRIPP), the arrangement gave the United States a direct operational role in a corridor that, for decades, Russia had assumed it alone would help secure this axis.

Analysts have described the deal as effectively pushing Russia out of key processes in the South Caucasus, noting that Moscow’s traditional role as the region’s principal security guarantor was, for the first time, taken up by an outside power operating on Armenian soil. Simultaneously, this shift coincides with a broader overall decline in Russia’s standing in Armenia itself, where Yerevan has pursued its own diversification away from Moscow-centered security arrangements in favor of Western - and US-facilitated frameworks. In Azerbaijan, the retrenchment of Russian influence has been visible in a different way. In the weeks following the plane crash, Baku moved to close the Russian House in Baku, the local representative office of Rossotrudnichestvo, Russia’s state cultural and soft-power agency, after Azerbaijani authorities said the center had failed to register as a legal entity and had breached local law.

Around the same time, Azerbaijan also shut the Baku bureau of Sputnik, part of the Rossiya Segodnya media group, permitting the outlet only a single accredited correspondent going forward. As of this year, Rossotrudnichestvo’s own leadership was still describing the situation as unresolved: in February 2026, agency head Yevgeny Primakov said Moscow was seeking acceptable options to resume the Russian House’s operation in Baku as soon as possible, noting that the 1997 intergovernmental agreement on cultural centers technically remained in force. Neither institution has reopened yet.

*Map: The International North-South Corridor (INSTC) Versus the Persian Gulf

Moscow’s Strategic Urgency: The North-South Corridor

Against this backdrop, it is worth noting where the balance of need now sits on infrastructure Russia itself greatly depends upon. At his joint press conference with Bayramov, Lavrov was notably direct about why the North-South Transport Corridor’s western branch — running through Azerbaijan and Iran — has become urgent for Moscow specifically. With the Strait of Hormuz crisis dragging on and disrupting global transport routes, Lavrov said the corridor’s importance had grown accordingly. He noted that Iran had finally completed land allocation for the long-delayed Rasht-Astara railway link, the corridor’s last missing segment, and that railway officials from Russia, Azerbaijan, and Iran had already met to discuss the practical steps needed to begin construction, expressing confidence that progress was now within reach.

Read plainly, this is Russia describing a route it desperately needs, not one it is doing Azerbaijan a favor by using. With Western sanctions foreclosing most alternative paths to South and Southeast Asian markets, and a key maritime chokepoint in the Gulf now unreliable, the overland corridor through Azerbaijani and Iranian territory has become one of Moscow’s few dependable arteries southward. Azerbaijan’s own foreign minister noted that Baku has coordinated this project from its inception and is on schedule to raise freight volumes on its section to five million tons by 2028, a reminder that Azerbaijan is not merely a transit host but a central party whose cooperation the corridor’s Russian branch now desperately needs to preserve its relations with Iran.

Outlook

None of this suggests that Baku and Moscow have resolved every point of friction, or that the underlying grievances have fully receded. What the record shows instead is a reconciliation that was carefully calibrated and developed in stages as it restored political and diplomatic channels, while the institutions Russia once used to project cultural and media influence inside Azerbaijan remain closed. Moreover, Moscow’s broader position across the South Caucasus, particularly around the Zangezur corridor, has continued to recede even as bilateral ties with Baku improve. Azerbaijan’s return to dialogue with Russia has come without a return to the pre-2024 status quo, and largely on terms that Baku itself defined.

About the Author

Dr. Vasif Huseynov is the head of the Western Studies department at the Center for Analysis of International Relations (AIR Center) in Baku, Azerbaijan. He is a faculty member at Khazar University in Baku. Dr. Huseynov had previously worked for the Center for Strategic Studies (SAM) and the Public Administration Academy (DIA) in Baku.

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BRIEFS

China Blocks Putin’s Stalled Mega-Icebreaker Project Over Sanctions Fears

On July 16, the Russian newspaper Vedomosti ran an article about the critical and multifaceted crisis paralyzing President Vladimir Putin’s largest Arctic ambition: the transformation of the Northern Sea Route (NSR) into a premier global trade artery rivaling the Suez Canal.

Documents and expert testimony obtained by the Russian newspaper reveal that the defining element of this strategy, the creation of a massive, technologically advanced fleet of ice-class cargo vessels, has suffered a massive breakdown. As a result of this crisis, Moscow has been caught between its own technological deficiencies and Beijing’s refusal to provoke Western sanctions (more on this below by Paul Goble).

Whereas Putin’s initial 2018 shipbuilding goal for the NSR was 80 million tons by 2024, this aim was projected to rise to 200 million tons by 2030. In reality, however, the 2024 performance fell far short, managing only 37.9 million tons, leading to dramatic and lasting downward revisions in September 2024, first to 117 million tons by Rosatom, and then to a grim new assessment by President Putin himself, now predicting only 70–100 million tons by 2030.

Russia’s existing ice-breaker fleet is in a dismal state. According to an estimate from the Russian Central Research Institute of Finance (CRIF), Moscow will require a minimum of 23 large new ice-class Arc7 vessels (oil tankers, LNG carriers, bulkers) by 2030. Alexander Buyanov of CRIF confirms that Russian shipyards lack the capacity to build them, stating, “there is no Russian [equipment], the Western one is under sanctions.” The key to resolving Moscow’s problem is China. CRIF documents reveal that China is unwilling to provide essential propulsion complexes for Arc7 vessels out of a fear of Western sanctions and can do so only if “sanctions pressure is weakened.” This development places a clear red line on Arctic cooperation that effectively paralyzes Russia’s NSR strategy.

China Refueling Services Surge in Trans-Baikal Amid Petrol Shortages

Russian entrepreneurs in the Transbaikal region have created a “China Fuel Shuttle” to Chinese Manchuria to alleviate fuel shortages in the Russian Far East province caused by widespread Ukrainian drone strikes on refineries inside Russia. The ad-hoc border service has introduced a vital lifeline for residents in Trans-Baikal, trying to find a way to cope with an acute fuel crisis that began on June 25.

Regional Governor Alexander Osipov described the situation as “extremely tense,” with residents waiting days in queues so long that they are even visible from space. Authorities declared a high alert regime, capping gasoline sales to individuals at just 15 liters per day. Into this logistical void stepped independent entrepreneurs offering a “shuttle” service through local city chat rooms. For a fee, these agents drive Russian cars across the border to neighboring Manchuria, refuel them at Chinese pumps, and then return them to owners in Chita or Trans-Baikal.

The crisis in Trans-Baikal mirrors a national pattern. Ukrainian drone attacks on refineries have disrupted supplies across almost all of Russia, with restrictions in force in 41 of Russia’s regions. As domestic solutions falter, the improvised Chinese fuel shuttle is providing an essential, stabilizing connection for a distressed Russian market. At the same time, it also threatens to force Russian border regions into deeper economic dependence on China.

Beijing’s ‘Two-Track’ Arctic Strategy and the Limits of Alliance

By Paul Goble

China is carefully dosing out its sales of critical equipment to the Russian Federation, reflecting its own national interests rather than simply meeting the requests of its Russian partners. Nowhere is this clearer than in the Arctic. In recent weeks, Beijing has simultaneously refused to sell Arctic-capable ships which Moscow had counted on securing, but delivered LNG platforms both countries could use on the Northern Sea Route.

This two-track approach not only shows that the terms of the alliance are being set less by a commitment to cooperate than by what Beijing believes corresponds to its own national goals. These aims include dominant positioning without risking Western sanctions on Chinese industries as Beijing calculates what suits Chinese interests best. That pattern—which is all too often ignored—should serve as a warning to analysts and governments in Russia and beyond. Those who reach conclusions about the direction of Sino-Russian relations based on a single action will likely be proven wrong, as there is almost always more going on beneath the surface.

Beijing’s decision to turn down Moscow’s request for the production of Arctic-capable ships has drawn scrutiny, as it highlights the persistent problems plaguing Russia’s own shipbuilding sector, particularly its inability to build enough icebreakers. This development is further complicated by Vladimir Putin’s urgent call for a faster expansion of the Arctic fleet than domestic capacity allows, and by China’s proven success in constructing these specialized vessels far more quickly and cheaply than Russia has ever been able to do. For all these reasons, but especially because of cost savings and Russia’s need to build up its naval presence quickly, Russian commentators and officials have been urging Moscow to order Arctic-capable ships from China, including Chinese-built destroyers, noting that other countries, such as the United States, routinely buy ships built elsewhere. While others in Moscow strongly objected saying that Russian ships must be built in Russia, they remain confident that Beijing’s interest in exploiting the Northern Sea Route would result in a favorable decision and Murmansk would become the “hub” for Beijing’s ‘Icy Silk Road.’

That made the Chinese rejection of the Russian request on July 17, much more disturbing to officials in Moscow. Some in the Russian capital were alarmed by what they saw as Beijing’s decision to desert Russia and join the West by agreeing to act within the limits of Western sanctions. But now that China has agreed to fund the construction of LNG plants along the NSR, it is clear those conclusions were unjustified. The Sino-Russian relationship is far more complex than many thought—yet Beijing's actions are entirely consistent with how it has quietly advanced its interests in Russia for over a decade.

Outlook

China has long sought to expand its influence across the Russian Federation but has done so without sacrificing its interests not only with regard to other concerns, such as relations with the United States and the EU, but also in ways that do not undercut its longer-term goals of dominance in the pursuit of short-term mediagenic successes. Thus, Beijing has acted and continues to act as the dominant partner in relations with Moscow, one that will agree to what Russia wants but only if it is consistent with broader Chinese interests - both short and long term - and that it will combine any refusal to cooperate with Moscow in one area with evidence that it still wants cooperation by doing something Russia welcomes in another.

This calculated approach keeps Russia “on the hook,” as it were. After all, given Russia’s current multi-faceted weakness, Moscow has little choice but to continue seeking benefits from China, even when, as is happening now, Beijing turns it down on something critically important. This dynamic is uncomfortable for many in Moscow and is a reality some Western observers appear completely unaware of, leading commentators and officials in both places to lurch between judgments that the relationship is either thriving or that it is collapsing.

Neither of these views is justified by the facts; and it is striking that the Russian government, albeit the weaker partner in this relationship, is acting in a somewhat similar way regarding China when it can. Thus, while it has been stung by China’s refusal to build ships Russia needs and Beijing’s hardline negotiating position on a new pipeline to carry Russian gas to China, the Kremlin has announced that it is extending the period for visa-free travel by Chinese to Russia until the end of 2027, a low-cost action to be sure but one that signals that Russia wants the relationship to continue even though its junior partner status is ever more frequently confirmed.

Minerals, Infrastructure, and the Northern Sea Route: Why Chukotka Matters to Beijing

By Sergey Sukhankin

No region of the Russian Far East better illustrates the convergence of China’s long-term economic priorities in the Arctic than Chukotka. Analyses of Sino-Russian Arctic cooperation have largely focused on energy projects, while comparatively little attention has been paid to the Arctic littoral of the Russian Far East. Pre-2022 analyses of the region by Russian experts argue that Sino-Russian Arctic cooperation is driven primarily by complementary economic interests, including the development of the Northern Sea Route (NSR), Arctic infrastructure, and access to natural resources. Chinese motivation is driven by investment and commercial cooperation rather than challenging Russian sovereignty. Chukotka represents an important case study through which these broader dynamics can be examined, as recent developments at both the regional and federal levels increasingly connect the region to China’s long-term economic priorities in the Arctic.^[1]

Recent developments at both the Russian regional and federal levels reinforce this trend. Regional authorities continue to prioritize the Baimskaya mineral district, transport infrastructure, and Arctic logistics. Federally, Moscow and Beijing have expanded institutional mechanisms linking the Russian Far East with Northeast China, emphasizing transport connectivity, investment, energy cooperation, and greater utilization of the Northern Sea Route (NSR), where Chukotka might play an important connecting role. Although Chinese investment in Chukotka remains limited, current ownership patterns alone understate the region’s strategic significance. Its large copper resources, location on the eastern segment of the NSR, and proximity to the Bering Strait increasingly align with China’s voracious demand for critical

Chukotka’s Three Pillars of Strategic Significance

Located at Russia’s northeastern extremity across the Bering Strait from Alaska, Chukotka Autonomous Okrug occupies a strategic position between the Arctic and Pacific. Indigenous peoples who reside in the area include the Chukchi, Siberian Yupik, Evens, Yukaghirs, and Chuvans. Traditionally, these groups have relied on reindeer herding, marine hunting, and fishing for their livelihood. With a population around 50,000, it is an enormous region covering over 737,000 square kilometers and is equal in size to the US state of Texas. Moreover, it has a population density of roughly 0.07 persons per square kilometer, making it the least densely populated region in Russia.

Russian expansion into the region first began in the 17th century, although the region’s extreme remoteness and fierce resistance by its indigenous groups delayed effective imposition of government control over the area. Chukotka became a national (later autonomous) okrug in 1930, marking its formal incorporation into the Soviet administrative system. During the Soviet period, the region acquired wider political, economic, and notably military-strategic significance. Moscow expanded its administrative control over the region by heavily investing in mining, transport, and energy infrastructure. It also developed strategic industries based on gold, tin, and tungsten deposits, while new settlements supported Arctic industrialization. At the same time, Chukotka’s proximity to Alaska made it a highly strategic Cold War frontier supporting Soviet border security, military planning, and surveillance in the Bering Strait region.

After the Soviet collapse, Chukotka experienced rapid economic decline, population loss, and deteriorating infrastructure. The region experienced a major revival during the governorship of Roman Abramovich from 2001–2008. Since the 2010s the region has become increasingly important within Russia’s Arctic strategy. Today, its significance rests on three interconnected pillars: abundant deposits of metals (gold, copper, silver, tin, tungsten, molybdenum). Central to that extraction strategy is the port of Pevek, which serves as a major logistical hub for the eastern portion of the Northern Sea Route (NSR). Its strategic location near the Bering Strait connects Arctic shipping directly with Asia-Pacific markets. These advantages collectively position Chukotka as a vital component in the development of the eastern littoral of Russia’s Arctic borderline and a pivotal platform for economic cooperation with China in the Russian Far East.

Chinese Incrementalism in Chukotka

Rather than seeking direct ownership of strategic assets, China has adopted a strategy of “incremental industrial participation” in Chukotka’s extractive economy. This mode of economic engagement builds influence by layering engineering contracts, equipment supply, infrastructure cooperation, financing discussions, and supply-chain integration. This approach was established as early as 2011, when Chukotka Governor Roman Kopin and the chairman of China’s Shenhua Corporation signed a comprehensive cooperative agreement. That pact encompassed geological exploration, resource extraction and processing, power generation and transmission, and the construction of roads, railways, and ports. Shenhua showed particular interest in the Bering coal basin, whose estimated resources reached 4.5 billion tons and whose development would require a deep-water port, new generating capacity, and the Beringovsky–Anadyr Road.

The Baimskaya copper-gold project is the clearest contemporary example of this indirect participation. Its strategic importance derives from its planned capacity to process up to 70 million tons of ore annually, produce approximately 300,000 tons of copper per year during its initial full-production period, and generate a stable mineral-export cargo base for the NSR. Russian academic research identifies the Baimskaya mineral zone as the foundation of a future mining and infrastructure cluster in Chukotka. Available evidence, however, does not demonstrate Chinese control over the mining license or serving as project operator. Following the 2023 sale of GDK Baimskaya to Kazakhstan-based Trianon Limited, the ownership structure remained separate from the Chinese companies involved in construction and procurement.

Taken together, these arrangements suggest that China’s influence derives less from ownership than from participation in the project’s industrial architecture. This role is most apparent in engineering and construction. The principal contractor is China Nonferrous Metal Industry’s Foreign Engineering and Construction Company (NFC), an engineering subsidiary of the state-owned China Nonferrous Metal Mining Group (CNMC). NFC-linked ChukotTsvetMetStroy has been connected to construction of the processing plant and the supply of major technological equipment; NFC’s previous cooperation with KAZ Minerals on Kazakhstan’s Aktogay project likely provided relevant institutional and technical experience. Beyond construction, these contracts create longer-term industrial linkages through equipment supply, maintenance, spare parts, and technical servicing. Chinese shipbuilder Wison has also constructed hulls for floating nuclear power units intended to supply the project, although the reactors, turbines, final outfitting, and operational control remain Russian.

Similar limitations also exist in financing. Earlier negotiations included the China Development Bank, a Chinese state policy lender, and KAZ Minerals had previously used Chinese developmental financing in Kazakhstan. Nevertheless, Baimskaya’s current financing is primarily Russian and led by VEB.RF, Russia’s state development corporation. Pevek, the Chaun terminal, new roads, power lines, Arctic shipping, and the NSR together connect the mine to external markets. These systems do not establish Chinese ownership, but they facilitate China’s gradual incorporation into Chukotka’s mineral-processing and export supply chains. Collectively, these developments underscore that China’s expansion in Chukotka relies chiefly on a strategy of incremental industrial participation, as opposed to the direct acquisition of strategic assets.

How Chukotka Fits into China’s Long-Term Arctic Strategy

While individual Chinese projects in Chukotka appear commercially modest, viewed collectively, they closely mirror Beijing’s stated Arctic priorities, and reveal a coherent pattern of economic engagement defined by incremental industrial participation.

The previously mentioned Baimskaya copper-gold project is not only expected to become one of Russia’s largest new copper producers thereby generating a stable cargo base for the NSR but also stands to become the nucleus of a future mining and infrastructure cluster in Chukotka, and through this prism should be closely examined in terms of understanding Chinese interests.

Moreover, as a strategic commodity, copper’s growing importance reinforces the project’s significance. According to the International Energy Agency (IEA), expanding electricity grids, electric vehicles, renewable energy, and energy storage are expected to increase global copper demand by roughly 30 percent by 2040, with Chinese grid expansion representing the largest single driver of recent demand growth.

Chinese academic studies likewise identify copper as a strategic resource essential for the country’s energy transition and long-term resource security. Critical minerals represent only one dimension of the project’s strategic significance. Its transport infrastructure also aligns closely with China’s connectivity objectives in the Arctic.

Released in 2018, China’s “Polar Silk Road” policy encourages Chinese firms to become involved in Arctic infrastructure, shipping, and resource development projects in neighboring states. The Baimskaya project—with its integrated road, port, and NSR export energy infrastructure—aligns closely with these objectives, though there is no proof it was custom-designed for Chinese interests. This combination of factors indicate that Chukotka exemplifies a distinctive feature of Chinese engagement in the Arctic. Rather than pursue high-profile acquisitions, China appears to be embedding itself in the Russian Arctic through engineering expertise, industrial supply chains, infrastructure participation, and commercial partnerships, a model that minimizes political exposure while establishing a durable economic presence.

Conclusion

While China’s role in Chukotka appears modest when measured by foreign direct investment alone, a broader examination of incremental industrial participation reveals a different pattern. Despite limited asset ownership, Chinese companies have become increasingly involved in engineering, equipment supply, infrastructure construction, and specific areas of project financing, particularly within the Baimskaya mining cluster.

These activities closely correspond to China’s publicly stated priorities of securing critical mineral supply, improving Arctic connectivity, and expanding commercial use of the Northern Sea Route. Rather than replicating the large-scale acquisitions associated with some Belt and Road projects, China appears to be pursuing a more incremental approach in the Arctic littoral of the Russian Far East, seeking to embed itself within industrial and logistics networks through partnerships and commercial contracts. Whether this incremental model becomes characteristic of China’s broader Arctic engagement will be an important indicator of the future evolution of Sino-Russian economic cooperation in the High North.

^[1] Leonov, S. N. 2019. “Vzaimodeiistvie Rossii i Kitaia v Arktike,” Rossiisko-kitaiskie issledovaniia 3, no. 3: 7–1.

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By Emil Avdaliani

Since the fall of the Assad dynasty in late 2024, the Russian military presence has remained a major mystery as to what Moscow’s future will be in Syria. Following Assad’s flight to Moscow on December 8, 2024, Russia has significantly scaled back its presence at its two principal facilities on Syria’s Mediterranean coast: the Tartus naval base and its strategic air base at Khmeimim, located in the Syrian province of Latakia. Russia’s future stay in Syria became even more uncertain after the new government in Damascus terminated the 49-year commercial port management concession granted to the Russian engineering construction business Stroytransgaz.

Russia has also pulled out from Qamishli Airport located in northeastern Syria and restricted its patrolling missions along the border with Israel. This reduced presence has coincided with Moscow’s ever-demanding war effort in Ukraine and the deterioration of Russia’s position in the Middle East following the weakening of its key regional partner – Iran. In fact, for the first time since 2013, Russia currently has no naval presence operating in the Mediterranean Sea.

Yet, over the past several months, Syria’s new leadership has not only maintained working ties with Moscow but even attempted to revive and expand the relationship. This has come as a surprise to many given that the interim government of Ahmed al-Sharaa, once in power, severed Syrian ties with Assad’s other allies such as Iran and Hezbollah. When it comes to Russia, however, the interim Syrian leader has twice visited Moscow: first on October 15, 2025, and then on January 28, earlier this year.

Preserving Russia’s Syrian Footprint: Khmeimim and Tartus

After these visits, the new Syrian government allowed Moscow to maintain a scaled-down military presence in its former Mediterranean bases. The Russian newspaper Kommersant has closely tracked Russian activity, reporting in April that Damascus intended to change the operation of Russian facilities to a non-military role by converting the Khmeimim airbase into a “training and humanitarian facility” for Syrian forces, noted one Syrian official. The move would effectively mean an end to the base’s military functions, and Moscow and Damascus would end up jointly operating the facility. Such a change in terminology would allow Russian sources to continue using Khmeimim airbase, which Kommersant noted is a vital staging area for Russian forces operating in Africa.

To this should be added more recent developments such as the reports in early July when Moscow announced it would get a commercial logistics hub up and running in one of two berths in Tartus. The revelation followed the June 6 announcement by the Russian-Syrian Business Council that Moscow would establish an assembly and distribution center for Russian goods in the strategic port.

In light of these recent developments, when it comes to relations with Russia, Damascus seems to have its own specific logic for how it interacts with Moscow. Firstly, it is about Syria’s economic situation. The Arab country owes around $1.2 billion in Assad-era debt to Russia. More importantly, Syria is in dire need of a large inflow of foreign investments to rebuild the country, and Damascus believes that Russia could be one of those investors. Russian expertise is also of critical importance when it comes to the operation of three large dams on the Euphrates River, which were either built or designed with Soviet assistance. Given the poor condition of these massive structures today, their rehabilitation is far more likely to occur with Russian help than with Turkish or European support.

Russian familiarity with Syria’s needs accumulated throughout decades of close cooperation, as evidenced by how Damascus handled the country’s currency printing issue. In 2025, Syrian authorities extended cooperation with the Russian company Goznak, which had long enjoyed a monopoly in the printing of Syrian currency.

Equally critical is the issue of oil and wheat, of which Russia is a leading exporter into Syria. If during the Syrian Civil War, Iran was Syria’s major oil supplier, the rupture in relations with Tehran left Russia as the primary exporter covering nearly half (46 000-60 000 barrels) of all Syrian oil demand. When it comes to wheat, Moscow’s influence is less decisive given Damascus’s arrangements with other countries. Nevertheless, Russia remains an important supplier of wheat to the Arab country.

The Russia Factor in Syrian Diplomacy

Another issue driving Syrian rapprochement with Moscow is Russian diplomatic power. Russia retains veto power in the United Nations’ Security Council, where it played a critical role in shielding former Syrian leader Bashar al-Assad during the early stages of the Syrian uprising and after his violent crackdown on Syrian opposition forces. For Damascus, it will be difficult to completely sever ties with Russia also because the latter was the biggest exporter of weaponry into the country before the downfall of Assad. Despite close ties with Türkiye and the United States, Damascus is unlikely to replace Russian technologies any time soon, which means that the Syrian armed forces will need continued access to Russian weaponry, spare parts as well as technical services.

Equally significant, a wider geopolitical calculus is driving Russo-Syrian rapprochement that factors into the equation for Damascus. A weak Syria that emerged since the civil war broke out in 2011 was a boon to Israel, which has throughout its history opposed the emergence not only of coalitions of Arab states, but also that of a single strong player in its immediate neighborhood. No wonder then that Israel has engaged in an intermittent aerial campaign against military targets in Syria once a new government was formed following the fall of the Assad regime.

A fractured Syria has been unable to counter Israel’s regional ambitions due to the lack of military capabilities and diplomatic support. It is in this context that Russia’s lingering presence in Syria serves as a mitigating factor, a tool to temper Israeli actions in the region, and one that Damascus likely values. Moscow is also perfectly well suited to serve as a mediator between Damascus and Tel-Aviv, which was particularly effective during the Assad regime.

Ties with Russia are also part of Syria’s effort to diversify its foreign partnerships portfolio well beyond its close relations with Türkiye and the improving ties with the United States and Europe. The rapprochement with Russia, however, does not mean that Syria would not try to keep the balance. Indeed, even on issues such as the war in Ukraine, Damascus has simultaneously forged good relations with Ukraine, developing security (primarily drone expertise) cooperation with Kyiv as exemplified by President Zelenskyy’s recent visit to Syria this past April.

Damascus’ approach can thus be characterized as a multi-vector foreign policy balancing Russia, Türkiye, the Gulf states, Europe and the United States. However, this places limits on what Russia can achieve in Syria. Moscow knows that it no longer enjoys the privileged position it once had with the Assad regime. Instead, it now has to compete alongside other external powers for influence within a more diversified Syrian foreign policy. The United Arab Emirates (UAE), for example, is especially pertinent given its seeming ambition to fully control the port of Tartus. Indeed, once Stroytransgaz left, Damascus signed a 30-year concession with DP World, worth an estimated $800 million.

Outlook

Moscow is keen on retaining a military presence in Syria given that the country geographically serves as a mid-point between Russia itself and the African continent where the notorious Wagner Group transformed itself into the Africa Corps. Experts should keep in mind that military facilities in Syria have become all the more important given the troubles the Africa Corps is experiencing in the Sahel region, especially in Mali where the Tuareg rebels led by the Azawad Liberation Front (FLA) have been pressing on the capital Bamako. Moreover, the bases’ strategic value has further increased following the deterioration of Russia’s relations with Europe and NATO.

At the same time, major tensions remain in Russia-Syrian relations that should not be overlooked. The most significant unresolved issue remains the status of former President Bashar al-Assad. Syrian authorities continue to seek legal accountability for senior figures associated with the previous regime and have repeatedly expressed interest in Assad’s extradition to stand trial for his crimes. Moscow, however, continues to provide political asylum for the former Syrian leader and has shown no indication that it is prepared to reconsider this position. Another area of mutual concern involves the activities of former Assad-era political, military and intelligence figures now residing abroad. Syrian officials remain concerned that remnants of the previous regime could attempt to undermine domestic stability through external financing or political organization. Russian authorities have publicly emphasized that their territory will not serve as a platform for destabilization against the new Syrian government.

Though these differences remain politically sensitive, both governments have deliberately prevented them from dominating broader bilateral relations. Instead, discussions increasingly focus on future cooperation rather than lingering disputes. Syria is thus trying to reshape Russia’s presence in the country in a way that suits Damascus’ interests. It was within this effort that al-Sharaa first pressed against an extensive Russian military presence in the country but then has allowed a limited presence in exchange for greater concessions from Moscow.

The relationship today is neither an alliance nor a rivalry. Instead, it represents a careful partnership based on overlapping strategic interests, with both governments recognizing that cooperation remains more beneficial than confrontation. The elasticity of Russian-Syrian relations underscores Moscow’s broader capacity to adapt to changing political realities in the Middle East.

Although Russia suffered a major strategic setback with the collapse of the Assad regime, it has avoided complete marginalization by recalibrating its objectives and accepting a more limited but potentially more sustainable role in Syria as it struggles to retain its last major strategic foothold in the Middle East. Maintaining naval access to Tartus may matter less to Moscow now, but down the road, once the Ukraine war has ended and Türkiye has removed the constraints of the Montreux Convention, then the strategic importance of accessing Tartus will matter greatly when Russia tries to restore its great power status.

Author Bio

Emil Avdaliani is a Professor of International Relations at the European University in Tbilisi, Georgia, and a scholar of the Silk Roads. He can be reached on Twitter/X at

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by Vusal Guliyev

On May 30, 2026, Turkish Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan signaled a potentially significant turn in Türkiye–Japan defense relations when he told Nikkei Asia that Ankara sees considerable potential for cooperation with Tokyo in unmanned aerial systems (UAS). Fidan highlighted prospects for joint development and co-production, arguing that the two countries possess complementary technological strengths that could create mutually beneficial opportunities. His remarks came amid a broader intensification of defense contacts between Türkiye and Japan, including high-level ministerial exchanges, visits by Japanese officials to Turkish defense companies, and growing Japanese interest in combat-tested Turkish unmanned systems.

Before Hakan Fidan’s recent remarks, former Turkish Foreign Minister Mevlüt Çavuşoğlu had previously signaled Ankara’s interest in strengthening defense cooperation with Tokyo, laying an important foundation for the closer Türkiye–Japan partnership that is now taking shape. Speaking at a press conference in Tokyo in September 2022, Çavuşoğlu stated that Türkiye saw significant potential for deepening ties with Japan and expressed hope that Turkish defense companies would eventually be able to export armed drones to the Japanese market. He also noted that several Asian countries, particularly Malaysia and Indonesia, had already demonstrated a strong interest in Türkiye’s defense industry

The growing momentum behind Türkiye–Japan defense cooperation was further demonstrated on May 6, 2026, when the two countries held the first-ever Japan–Türkiye Defense Industry Cooperation Day on the sidelines of the SAHA 2026 International Defence and Aerospace Exhibition in Istanbul. During the event, Japan’s Acquisition, Technology and Logistics Agency (ATLA) and Türkiye’s Presidency of Defense Industries (SSB) signed a Letter of Intent aimed at establishing a working-level framework for deeper collaboration in defense equipment and technology. The gathering brought together approximately 40 Turkish and Japanese defense companies and drone manufacturers to explore opportunities for joint research, technology transfer, co-development, and industrial partnerships.

*Image above: Japanese Defense Minister Gen Nakatani meeting with Turkish Defense Minister Yaşar Güler

Ministerial-level defense engagement received a significant boost in mid-August 2025 when Japanese Defense Minister Gen Nakatani became the first Japanese defense minister to pay an official visit to Türkiye. During his meetings with Turkish Defense Minister Yaşar Güler in Ankara, the two sides agreed to deepen cooperation in defense industries and technology and launch consultations between senior defense officials. Nakatani also visited leading Turkish defense companies and facilities, including Baykar, Istanbul Naval Shipyard, and Turkish Aerospace Industries (TUSAŞ).

Later, in January 2026, Turkish Defense Minister Yaşar Güler highlighted the growing potential of Türkiye–Japan defense-industrial cooperation, describing it as a partnership that could eventually reach a “strategic level.” In an interview with Japan’s Kyodo News, Güler emphasized that combining Japan’s advanced technological capabilities with Türkiye’s production capacity and operational experience could create significant opportunities for collaboration in defense technologies. He also pointed to Turkish unmanned systems, including the ANKA and Bayraktar platforms, as cost-effective and operationally proven solutions that could contribute to Japan’s efforts to modernize its defense ecosystem.

Tokyo’s growing interest in Turkish drone technologies is closely linked to its rapidly changing security environment. Japan is undergoing a rapid transformation from a traditionally pacifist economic power into a more assertive military and geopolitical actor amid intensifying strategic competition in the Indo-Pacific. The strategic vision first advanced by former Prime Minister Shinzo Abe is now being further expanded under Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi through increased defense spending, the acquisition of counterstrike capabilities, enhanced military diplomacy, and historic reforms to Japan’s arms export policy. Recent developments—including the expansion of defense cooperation with the Philippines and Australia, as well as agreements on combat drone cooperation with Ukraine—underscore Tokyo’s transition toward a more proactive and strategically assertive security posture.

As part of this transformation, Japan has invested heavily in emerging defense technologies, including artificial intelligence, autonomous systems, space capabilities, and unmanned platforms. However, despite possessing one of the world’s most advanced technological sectors, Japan’s domestic defense industry has faced challenges in developing cost-effective and combat-proven unmanned systems. At the same time, Tokyo is grappling with a shrinking population and persistent manpower shortages within the Self-Defense Forces, increasing the need for force-multiplying technologies that can reduce reliance on personnel-intensive operations.

In this context, Turkish unmanned aerial systems offer a potentially attractive solution. They combine relatively affordable production costs with extensive operational experience across multiple conflict zones, providing unmanned capabilities that have already demonstrated effectiveness under real battlefield conditions.

Türkiye’s Battle-Tested Drones

The international reputation of Turkish unmanned systems has been significantly enhanced by their performance in several recent conflicts. During the 2020 Second Karabakh War, Turkish-made drones operated by Azerbaijan played an important role in improving battlefield reconnaissance, target acquisition, and precision-strike capabilities. Their effectiveness contributed to Azerbaijan’s military successes and attracted considerable attention from military planners worldwide.

Similarly, during the initial stages of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, Turkish drones gained international recognition for their ability to support intelligence gathering, surveillance missions, and strike operations against Russian military assets. These experiences have transformed Türkiye into one of the world’s leading drone exporters and elevated its status within the global defense industry. Turkish manufacturers have demonstrated an ability to rapidly innovate, adapt to battlefield lessons, and produce systems that offer an effective balance between capability and affordability

As Türkiye’s defense industry matures, Ankara is increasingly seeking partnerships that move beyond traditional export relationships. Ankara has strong incentives to deepen defense cooperation with Tokyo. Cooperation with Japan offers access to one of the world’s most sophisticated technological ecosystems, providing opportunities to integrate advanced Japanese expertise in areas such as sensors, artificial intelligence, robotics, semiconductors, advanced materials, and precision manufacturing. Such cooperation could help accelerate the development of next-generation unmanned systems while enhancing the competitiveness of both countries’ defense industries.

Several areas appear particularly promising for future collaboration. One potential avenue involves intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) platforms designed for maritime operations. As an island nation with extensive maritime responsibilities, Japan requires persistent surveillance capabilities to monitor vast stretches of surrounding waters. Turkish expertise in unmanned aerial systems could complement Japanese sensor technologies and maritime surveillance infrastructure, creating more effective platforms for maritime domain awareness.

Artificial intelligence and autonomous systems offer another promising field for cooperation. The future of unmanned warfare is increasingly shaped not only by platform performance but also by software, machine learning, and autonomous decision-support systems. In April 2026, Japan’s Ground Self-Defense Force (GSDF) established the Unmanned Defense Capability Promotion Office and the Unmanned Systems Office as part of a broader effort to integrate unmanned and AI-enabled technologies into military operations. Japan’s strengths in robotics and advanced computing could complement Türkiye’s experience in deploying unmanned systems under operational conditions, potentially leading to the development of more sophisticated autonomous platforms capable of operating in complex environments. On the other hand, expanded cooperation in unmanned defense systems could help Tokyo adapt its defense posture to the challenges posed by a shrinking population.

Beyond bilateral considerations, the emerging partnership carries broader regional implications. In East Asia and the Indo-Pacific, the potential integration of Turkish drone technologies into Japan’s defense architecture could contribute to Tokyo’s efforts to strengthen its Pacific defense. This objective is reflected in the establishment of the Pacific Defense Initiative Office by Japan’s Ministry of Defense in April 2026, a move that underscores Tokyo’s growing focus on strengthening its defense ecosystem through enhanced operational coordination, advanced military technologies, and more integrated deterrence strategies. Greater access to advanced drone capabilities would strengthen Japan’s ability to monitor and respond to emerging threats while reducing operational burdens on manned platforms.

For Türkiye, expanding defense cooperation with Japan would further demonstrate its transformation from a regional security actor into a globally connected defense-industrial power. Ankara has already established defense partnerships across the Middle East, Central Asia, Africa, and Europe. A deeper relationship with Japan would also extend Türkiye’s strategic reach into Indo-Pacific defense markets and reinforce its growing reputation as a supplier of advanced military technologies.

Outlook

While defense cooperation between the two countries has historically remained limited, changing geopolitical realities and evolving security priorities are creating new incentives for collaboration. The emerging drone partnership reflects a broader convergence between two technologically capable middle powers seeking to enhance their strategic autonomy, strengthen their defense-industrial bases, and respond to increasingly complex regional security challenges. The strategic rationale for closer Türkiye–Japan collaboration appears increasingly compelling. Both countries face evolving security environments that require innovative technological solutions, and both seek to strengthen their defense-industrial capabilities while reducing excessive dependence on external suppliers. The convergence of these interests provides a strong foundation for expanded cooperation in unmanned systems and related technologies.

In sum, Japan possesses advanced expertise in sensors, communications systems, materials, and electronics, whereas Türkiye offers extensive operational experience and internationally competitive unmanned platforms. If successfully institutionalized, cooperation in drone and counter-drone systems could become one of the most important pillars of a broader Türkiye–Japan strategic partnership and a noteworthy example of how middle powers are adapting to the changing dynamics of global security and technological competition.

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About the Author:

Vusal Guliyev is a frequent contributor to The Saratoga Foundation. He is the Indo-Pacific & Eurasian Affairs Analyst at the Baku-based Center of Analysis of International Relations (AIR Center). Mr. Guliyev’s professional and academic experience spans leading research institutions, think tanks, and fellowship programs across Azerbaijan, Türkiye, China, Japan, South Korea, and the United States.

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By Sergey Sukhankin

In June 2026, Defense Minister Andrei Belousov stated that the Russian Armed Forces were integrating AI, robotics, and automated command systems into military management. The statement reflects a broader shift in Russia’s AI policy since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Whereas the original National Strategy for the Development of Artificial Intelligence framed AI primarily as an instrument of digital modernization and economic development, wartime priorities have increasingly repositioned it as a strategic enabler of military effectiveness, technological sovereignty, and state resilience. This evolution is reflected in the revised National Strategy for the Development of Artificial Intelligence until 2030, approved in February 2024, which places substantially greater emphasis on technological sovereignty, domestic software development, and reducing dependence on foreign digital infrastructure. Taken together, these developments suggest that AI has become an integral component of Russia’s wartime mobilization strategy, with civilian AI initiatives increasingly serving as a foundation for military innovation by strengthening the country’s data infrastructure, software ecosystem, and human capital.

This analysis proceeds as follows. First, it examines the institutional and legislative shifts that have altered the trajectory and centralized AI governance since February 2022. Second, it considers how civilian AI development across business, healthcare, education, and infrastructure has become increasingly tied to Russia’s broader sovereignty agenda. Third, it assesses the primary military applications of AI, specifically command-and-control, reconnaissance, drones, logistics, and battlefield management. Finally, it explores Russian writings on the role of AI in information-psychological operations, concluding with an analysis of what Russia’s post-2022 AI trajectory reveals about the relationship between technological sovereignty, military adaptation, and long-term confrontation with the West.

Institutional and Legislative Changes After February 2022

In the post-2022 period, implementation of Russia’s AI strategy has become increasingly centralized. For instance, the Government Sub-commission on the Development and Implementation of Artificial Intelligence has emerged as the principal coordinating body responsible for synchronizing AI policy across ministries, regional governments, state corporations, and research institutions. Unlike many Western AI governance frameworks, the Russian model prioritizes centralized coordination and state-led implementation.

This shift became particularly evident at the AI Journey conference in late 2025. Speaking at the event, President Vladimir Putin argued that Russia should move beyond isolated AI projects toward a comprehensive national implementation plan spanning ministries, industries, and regions. He maintained that AI should become integrated into “virtually every management and production process” by 2030 and presented it as essential for preserving Russia’s technological competitiveness under conditions of geopolitical confrontation. Putin also emphasized that dependence on foreign AI systems creates strategic vulnerabilities, reinforcing technological sovereignty as a central objective of AI policy. AI is thus increasingly framed not simply as an economic technology but as an instrument of national sovereignty and resilience.

As in other strategic sectors, AI development is expected to rely on strong state coordination and financial support. Discussing Russia’s “new digital leap“, Izvestiya argued that AI should become the technological foundation of the country’s next phase of economic development while emphasizing that success depends on coordinated government policy, investment in domestic infrastructure, and strategic state support. Similarly, experts interviewed by Rossiyskaya Gazeta argued that sustained AI development requires stronger mathematics education, expanded domestic supercomputing capacity, increased public investment in research, and support for domestic software ecosystems, drawing parallels with Soviet approaches to strategic technological development. Together, these institutional developments indicate that Moscow increasingly treats AI as a state-directed sovereignty project rather than a conventional modernization program.

Civilian AI: Trends and Changes

Although Russia’s AI strategy increasingly prioritizes national security, military modernization does not operate independently from civilian technological development. Rather, one of the defining characteristics of Russia’s post-2022 AI policy is the gradual erosion of boundaries between civilian and military innovation. Moscow increasingly treats healthcare, education, public administration, logistics, and industrial modernization as components of a broader AI ecosystem capable of supporting long-term strategic competition. Three civilian domains illustrate this trend. These areas matter not because they are military in a narrow sense, but because they build the data, personnel, software, and institutional infrastructure on which military AI adoption ultimately depends.

First, business and economic development. Following the introduction of Western sanctions, the Russian government increasingly identified AI as a mechanism for offsetting labor shortages, improving productivity, and supporting import substitution across strategic industries. The Yakov & Partners report, published in late 2025, estimated that AI could contribute between 7.9 and 12.8 trillion rubles annually to the Russian economy by 2030 while improving productivity across manufacturing, finance, transport, healthcare, and public administration—sectors facing acute labour shortages. The report also found that more than 70 percent of surveyed companies had already deployed generative AI in at least one business function, while nearly half had begun experimenting with AI agents, suggesting that AI adoption has moved beyond pilot projects into mainstream business operations. Similarly, Russian business media present an optimistic outlook. According to RBC, Russia’s AI market could reach approximately $2.1 billion in 2025 while maintaining annual growth rates approaching 45 percent. These projections should be treated cautiously, but they show the weight assigned to AI in Russian industrial policy despite sanctions and hardware constraints.

Second, healthcare has emerged as one of the fastest-growing civilian applications of AI. According to Vedomosti, Moscow’s digital healthcare platform has connected nearly 2,000 medical organizations across more than 70 regions, enabling AI systems to assist physicians in analysing medical images and improving diagnostic accuracy. Beyond healthcare itself, these applications expand Russia’s domestic AI ecosystem by generating large datasets, improving machine-learning models, and strengthening national computational infrastructure.

Third, education and human capital occupy a strategic position within Russia’s AI agenda. Rather than emphasizing digital literacy alone, Russian policy increasingly treats education as a prerequisite for technological sovereignty. The Yakov & Partners report identifies shortages of qualified specialists as a principal constraint on AI development and argues for closer cooperation between universities, state institutions, and technology companies. It recommends expanding mathematics, computer science, and engineering education while strengthening university-industry partnerships to sustain Russia’s AI ecosystem under conditions of international isolation.

Since 2022, given internal developmental trajectory, even nominally civilian AI sectors have moved closer to civil-military fusion. In Russia’s wartime setting, healthcare data, education, software ecosystems, robotics, cryptography, and drone technologies increasingly feed into the same sovereign AI infrastructure that the armed forces can draw upon.

Military AI: Areas of Application

While civilian AI provides the foundation of Russia’s sovereign AI ecosystem, the armed forces have increasingly become its principal destination. Official statements and military publications indicate that the war against Ukraine has reshaped Russian AI priorities – rather than pursuing fully autonomous weapons as an end in themselves, Moscow has concentrated on integrating AI into command-and-control systems, battlefield management, logistics, reconnaissance, and drone warfare. During a meeting of the Military-Industrial Commission in April 2025, President Vladimir Putin argued that “whoever begins using AI in military affairs faster will enjoy enormous – indeed colossal – advantages on the battlefield” and called for accelerating domestic software development for automated command systems alongside expanded production of unmanned aerial systems. This emphasis continued in June 2026, when Defence Minister Andrei Belousov stated that the Russian Armed Forces were actively integrating AI technologies, robotics, and automated command systems into military management, indicating that AI has moved beyond experimental projects to become part of Russia’s broader military modernization agenda.

The modernization of command systems has become the principal area of AI integration with lessons from the war in Ukraine underscoring the importance of rapid data processing, sensor fusion, and real-time situational awareness. Following Belousov’s inspection of tactical command modernization in July 2025, Moskovskii Komsomolets reported continuing efforts to integrate digital communications, automated battlefield management, and AI-assisted command support capable of combining information from drones, reconnaissance assets, electronic warfare units, and artillery into a common operational picture. Similarly, an article published by APNI argues that AI should strengthen tactical command by processing battlefield data, identifying operational patterns, supporting target prioritization, and improving coordination among different branches of the armed forces. One example of practical implementation of this approach is the AI platform Svod, reportedly designed to collect and synthesize operational information from multiple sources to provide commanders with integrated situational awareness rather than raw intelligence streams, illustrating Russia’s preference for decision-support systems over autonomous command architectures.

The war has also accelerated interest in AI-enabled navigation, computer vision, swarm coordination, and autonomous target recognition. According to Arsenal Otechestva defence magazine, future combat effectiveness will increasingly depend on integrating AI with robotics, precision-guided weapons, and unmanned systems capable of operating under conditions of electronic warfare, suggesting that AI will reshape not only individual weapons but also the organization of military operations.

Russian military writing after 2022 presents AI primarily as a decision-support technology rather than a substitute for commanders. Romashkina argues that AI’s main value lies in processing battlefield information, improving logistics, strengthening cyber defence, supporting reconnaissance, and assisting operational decision-making (Romashkina, N. P. “Iskusstvennyi intellekt v voennom dele: vozmozhnosti, ugrozy, perspektivy.” Voprosy kiberbezopasnosti, no. 6 (70) (2025): 158–165). A related study titled “Artificial Intelligence in Military Affairs: Essence, Problems of Development and Operation, Main Areas of Application” advocates a “human-in-command“ model in which AI helps construct digital representations of the battlefield, prioritize threats, model alternative courses of action, and prepare operational orders, while final authority remains with human commanders. Both studies argue that AI should function as a force multiplier embedded throughout command-and-control processes rather than as an autonomous decision-maker. Another analysis broadened this argument by treating AI as a strategic technology and introducing the concept of “cognitive weapons“: tools designed to degrade adversary AI systems through poisoned data, adversarial inputs, or attacks on software and hardware. This moves the discussion beyond AI-enabled weapons to AI itself as a contested battlespace. In other words, Russian military thinkers increasingly view AI systems not only as tools for enhancing combat effectiveness, but also as targets that can be deceived, degraded, or manipulated. Thus, the analysis postulates an idea that Russia must invest not only in military AI capabilities but also in protecting AI systems against manipulation, reinforcing the view that AI will increasingly shape military competition and international power relations.

The clearest articulation of this emerging Russian view appears in an article by Col. (ret.) V. Orlianskii and Col. (ret.) P. Dulniev in the Russian military journal Voyennaya Mysl (Military Thought), which links battlefield lessons from Ukraine directly to the need for AI-enabled command systems and a more flexible force structure. The authors argued that the experience of the war in Ukraine since 2022 demonstrates that Russia’s traditional, fixed organizational model is no longer adequate for high-intensity, technology-driven warfare. The principal lesson is that tactical units must become dynamically organized, capable of being reinforced in real time with drones, artillery, aviation, electronic warfare, and other assets according to rapidly changing battlefield conditions rather than relying on permanently assigned force structures. They contend that the speed of modern combat, the ubiquity of drones, and the transparency of the battlefield have shifted the decisive advantage toward forces able to process information faster, adapt organizational structures more rapidly, and coordinate multi-domain assets with minimal delay.

To achieve this transformation, the authors advocate integrating artificial intelligence into a unified automated command-and-control system spanning tactical, operational, and strategic levels. AI is presented not as a replacement for commanders but as a decision-support tool capable of processing massive volumes of reconnaissance data, identifying targets, modelling courses of action, allocating reinforcement assets, coordinating joint operations, and continuously updating decisions in near real time while leaving final authority with human commanders. They further argue that AI-enabled command systems should underpin a transition to “dynamic force organization,” improve reconnaissance, logistics, and electronic warfare, facilitate the employment of robotic and directed-energy systems, and ultimately reshape Russian military art. At the same time, the authors acknowledge that this vision faces major obstacles, including deficiencies in Russian computing power, microelectronics, software development, data quality, and AI expertise, warning that overcoming these technological shortcomings is essential if Russia is to avoid falling behind the United States and China in the next generation of warfare.^[1]

Information-Psychological Confrontation and AI

Military modernization represents only one dimension of Russia’s expanding AI strategy. AI has also become an increasingly important instrument supporting Moscow’s information operations abroad. While AI has not fundamentally transformed Russian influence activities, it has increased their speed and scale, even if its practical effectiveness remains uneven. A revealing example emerged during Hungary’s parliamentary campaign. According to The Moscow Times, Russian political strategists developed a disinformation campaign – which turned out to be a failure – intended to strengthen Prime Minister Viktor Orbán by portraying him as the defender of Hungarian sovereignty while simultaneously discrediting his political opponents. Subsequent investigations by Reuters found that coordinated Telegram networks amplified these narratives while increasingly relying upon AI-generated content and localized messaging. The pattern resembles earlier Russian influence operations such as the Doppelgänger campaign targeting European audiences – rather than replacing human operators, generative AI enables faster production of fake news articles, manipulated imagery, multilingual social media posts, and synthetic videos.

In this regard, Russian military thought is paying growing attention to AI’s role in gray-zone and sub-threshold operations. An article titled “Teoriya «Myatezhevoyny» E.E. Messnera kak instrument osmysleniya prirody sovremennykh voennykh konfliktov” (”E.E. Messner’s Theory of ‘Subversive Warfare’ as an Instrument for Understanding the Nature of Modern Military Conflicts) in a recent issue of Voyennaya Mysl’ (Military Thought) argues that Evgeny Messner’s concept of “global insurgent warfare” retains significant explanatory value for understanding 21st century conflicts. The authors contend that digital technologies, social media, and artificial intelligence have transformed myatezhevoyna into a “digital-ideological” form of confrontation, in which information, narratives, and collective consciousness become primary targets of strategic competition. They conclude that contemporary national security must protect not only territory and infrastructure but also the state’s cognitive and value space, reflecting the growing importance of non-military instruments in achieving strategic objectives.^[2]

Another article, “Doktrinal’nye transformatsii v sfere psikhologicheskikh operatsiy SShA i NATO s tochki zreniya vozmozhnykh posledstviy dlya bezopasnosti Rossii” (Doctrinal Transformations in the Sphere of US and NATO Psychological Operations from the Perspective of Potential Consequences for Russia’s Security) published in the same journal, argues that recent U.S. and NATO doctrinal changes in psychological operations (PSYOP) represent an expanding threat to Russian national security. The authors contend that Washington’s return to the concepts of PSYOPs, combined with increased funding and broader operational scope, signals an intensification of psychological pressure against Russian society and the Armed Forces. Particular attention is devoted to artificial intelligence, which is portrayed as a force multiplier capable of generating persuasive synthetic content in real time, enabling unprecedented penetration of Russia’s information space. The article also argues that AI-enabled micro-targeting, supported by big data analytics, substantially enhances the effectiveness of Western information campaigns by allowing tailored influence operations against vulnerable social groups. Overall, the authors present AI as a critical enabler of next-generation psychological warfare and gray zone competition rather than merely a technological innovation.^[3]

Taken together, these developments suggest that AI is becoming an increasingly important enabler of Russia’s information-psychological confrontation rather than a revolutionary new instrument of influence. While generative AI has expanded the speed, scale, and adaptability of disinformation campaigns, Russian military thought increasingly views AI in broader strategic terms – as a tool for shaping Western perceptions, protecting the state’s cognitive space, and countering perceived psychological operations organized by the West. This perspective complements Russia’s wider post-2022 AI strategy, in which technological sovereignty, military modernization, and information confrontation are treated as mutually reinforcing components of a single state-directed effort to strengthen national resilience under conditions of prolonged geopolitical competition.

Outlook

Russia’s post-2022 AI trajectory suggests that Moscow is not trying to win the global AI race on the terms set by Silicon Valley or China’s largest technology firms. Instead, it is building a sovereign, state-directed AI ecosystem shaped by wartime pressure, sanctions, and long-term confrontation with the West. The significance of this shift lies less in frontier-model competition than in the way Russia is integrating AI into command systems, logistics, battlefield management, drones, education, healthcare data, and information operations. This does not mean Russia has overcome its technological constraints. Access to advanced chips, computing power, and globally competitive commercial platforms remains limited. It does mean, however, that Russia may gain practical advantages from selective, state-coordinated AI adoption. This marks an important evolution from the pre-war logic of digital modernization – AI is no longer treated primarily as a tool for improving economic efficiency or public administration; it is increasingly understood as infrastructure for wartime governance, military adaptation, and strategic autonomy. The key implication is that Russian AI strategy is assuming the form of a resilience strategy – one designed to preserve military adaptability, state capacity, and informational reach under conditions of prolonged geopolitical confrontation. Judging by repeated statements from President Putin and Russia’s military-political leadership, this confrontation is viewed not as a temporary phase but as a long-term strategic condition likely to endure for the lifetime of the current political system.

^[1] Voyennaya Mysl (Military Thought), No. 2 (February 2026), pp. 10 – 27).

^[2] Voyennaya Mysl (Military Thought), No. 6 (June 2026), pp. 152–158).

^[3] Voyennaya Mysl (Military Thought), No. 6 (June 2026), pp. 77 – 89).

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About the Author

Dr. Sergey Sukhankin is a Senior Fellow at The Saratoga Foundation specializing in Russian military and security affairs, as well as Russo-Chinese relations. He is also an Advisor at Gulf State Analytics (Washington, D.C.) and Fellow at the North American and Arctic Defense and Security Network (Canada).

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Hello Everyone!

The Saratoga Foundation is pleased to announce the launch of a groundbreaking new research project: “The Cognitive Battlespace: War, the Mind, and the Future of Strategy,” spearheaded by Senior Fellow Dr. Jānis Bērziņš.

This timely initiative addresses a pressing national security challenge for the United States and its transatlantic allies: the capacity of foreign adversaries to wage persistent warfare on the human mind without crossing the traditional thresholds of conventional armed conflict.

Western military planners are currently grappling with an evolving array of hybrid threats; in response, Dr. Bērziņš’ project will deliver the first systematic strategic theory of cognitive warfare. As part of this innovative new initiative, he will write a series of reports examining Russian approaches to Cognitive Warfare and the emerging battlespace being waged against Western societies.

Highlighting the critical importance of this initiative, Saratoga Foundation Board Member and former Supreme Allied Commander Europe (SACEUR), General (Ret.) Philip Breedlove, noted the urgency of this research:

“Cognitive warfare is among the most important emerging challenges facing the Alliance. We understand kinetic threats. We are only beginning to understand how adversaries target the minds of our societies. Dr. Bērziņš’s research addresses a gap that NATO policymakers and defense planners urgently need filled.”

We look forward to circulating Dr. Bērziņš’ new series of reports in an effort to promote a deeper understanding of Russian approaches to Cognitive Warfare and the emerging battlespace being waged on Western societies.

Sincerely,

Glen E. Howard

President & CEO,

The Saratoga Foundation

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Thank you for your support! Please remember that The Saratoga Foundation is a non profit 501(c)(3) organization. Your donations are fully tax-deductible. If you seek to support The Saratoga Foundation, you can make a one-time donation by clicking on the PayPal link below! Alternatively, you can also choose to subscribe on our website to support our work.

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By Paul Goble

Even though they do not have a republic of their own, the Circassians both in the North Caucasus and in the diaspora communities abroad have now taken the lead in defending one of the last vestiges of federalism and autonomy in Russia: the right of a federal subject to have a voice on any changes in their republic's borders. The Circassian effort, as impressive as it is, almost certainly will not prevent Moscow from eliminating provisions protecting the rights of the people of Kabardino-Balkaria to control their own borders; but it will simultaneously help mobilize the Circassian people in that federal subject and more generally and prompt other national movements to take up this cause, a development that Moscow fears more than the actions of any republic or region by itself.

Because of such fears about this move and others suggesting that the Circassian national movement is once again on the rise, Moscow has drawn an old arrow from its quiver and sought to undermine that movement by sowing confusion among the 700,000 Circassians who live within the current borders of the Russian Federation and the more than seven million who live abroad, particularly those who live in Turkey and the Middle East.

In early June, ten leading opposition figures in Kabardino-Balkaria, most from the dominant Kabardinian (Circassian) portion of the population, issued an appeal to the KBR parliament to reject a call by the republic procuracy to take out of the republic constitution all references to the right of the republic and its people to guarantee the territorial integrity of Kabardino-Balkaria after the Moscow-imposed KBR agreed to do just that. Moreover, the declaration specifies that “the decision adopted by the Parliament is deeply flawed and poses a danger to the future of the Kabardino-Balkarian Republic as a constituent entity of the Russian Federation. We insist on preserving the constitutional guarantees of the republic’s statehood and territorial integrity.”

Further, it declared that: “while the President of the Russian Federation ensures the territorial integrity of the Russian Federation as a unified federal state, this does not preclude constituent entities from enshrining guarantees of their territorial integrity—as an integral part of the unified state—within their own constitutions.” And because that is the case, the ten continue, “removing the provisions establishing the principle of territorial integrity from the Constitution of the Kabardino-Balkar Republic is the most destructive aspect of the proposed amendments. If the provision regarding the inviolability of the republic’s territory is eliminated, the federal center would gain the legal authority to alter the republic’s borders unilaterally.”

“Such a turn of events could lead to the following consequences,” they point out, including the transfer of territories—inhabited for centuries by Kabardinians, Balkars, and other peoples—to neighboring constituent entities of the Russian Federation; the abolition or redrawing of historically established national districts under the guise of ‘the interests of the Federation;’ and the loss of the republic’s final constitutional safeguard against arbitrary changes to its territorial structure at the discretion of the federal center.” And they conclude with the following two points: On the one hand, they say, “we cannot allow the Basic Law of Kabardino-Balkaria to remain silent on the issue of the inviolability of the republic’s territory. This is not a matter of legal technicality, but a question of the republic’s very existence as a national-territorial community.” And on the other, they note, “the intention to remove the aforementioned provisions from the Constitution of the Kabardino-Balkarian Republic (KBR) is not an isolated event but part of a systematic effort by the federal center aimed at dismantling the special status of the republics within the Russian Federation—a strategy observed over the past 25 years.”

They were quickly joined in this protest by the leaders of more than 40 Circassian organizations in Turkey, something that has transformed a small domestic problem into an international one and made the Circassians the leader of this resistance. In a sign of just how worried Moscow is about this, the original webpage that included these declarations has been taken down; but a discussion of the content of their appeals can be found here.

No non-Russian nation within the Russian Federation has more of its members living abroad than the Circassians, and none can so quickly mobilize their co-nationals abroad when Moscow violates their rights or the rights of other non-Russians within the current borders of the Russian Federation. Indeed, this foreign base of support gives the Circassians a far greater ability to defend themselves and advance not only their causes but those of other non-Russians, a major reason why the Circassian nation could very well be among the first to escape Moscow’s control as the disintegration of the Russian Federation continues. (For a discussion of that possibility, see this author’s argument at Window on Eurasia, Dec. 1, 2024.)

Outlook

Given what is at stake, it should come as no surprise that Moscow has responded to this development and other signs of growing Circassian activism by closing down websites that carry the Circassian message. It has also revived one of its tried-and-true tactics of sowing confusion in the midst of both by setting up new organizations and media outlets that seek to undermine Circassian unity.

Once again, the Russian security agencies have sought to promote the idea that Circassians and Abkhazians are one people—an idea without historical foundation that knowledgeable Circassians reject but that enough Circassians may find persuasive enough to undermine opponents of that idea and alienate other non-Russians from them. That conclusion is strongly supported by the fact that, in recent weeks, Moscow has once again enlisted many of the same people it used before the 2014 Sochi Olympiad to undermine Circassian opposition to staging the international competition on the site where Tsarist forces carried out a genocide of the Circassians. In doing so, it has compounded the insult on the 150th anniversary of that horrific event. (The author is indebted to the distinguished Circassian historian Adel Bashqawi for calling his attention to this repetition).

Moscow was not able to derail Circassian opposition to the Sochi Olympiad; and most observers would agree that Putin’s decision to hold the games on these blood lands backfired badly on the Kremlin. It also allowed the Circassians to gain influence not only among other non-Russians inside the current borders of the Russian Federation but also among governments and experts in the West. What is now happening in Kabardino-Balkaria may lack the same drama in the short term, but it could well be recorded as an important step toward the restoration of a Circassian republic in the North Caucasus and the emergence of other non-Russian states that will no longer be under Moscow's control.

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By Alexander Melikishvili

Ukraine’s “kinetic sanctions” (drone and missile strikes targeting Russia’s oil and gas sector, including oil refineries) finally forced the Kremlin to acknowledge that these relentless attacks are causing gasoline shortages at a time when domestic demand is peaking due to the summer vacation season. On June 28, President Putin for the first time publicly admitted that the Ukrainian attacks have resulted in “a certain shortage,” but called it “not critical.” In fact, the Russian leader is grossly understating the scale of the problem. According to the Russian investigative platform Mediazona, as of June 26th, some form of fuel rationing was in place in 56 out of 83* regions comprising the Russian Federation. Furthermore, brawls often break out in long lines at gas stations, undermining social stability to the extent that this has already prompted local authorities in at least one location (the Black Sea resort town of Anapa in Krasnodar Territory) to employ Cossack volunteers to maintain public order at the pumps.

*Russian fuel restrictions by region: Image source: Mediazona

In June alone, the Ukrainian military struck eleven refineries across Russia, according to Ukraine’s defense ministry. By early July, the Ukrainian General Staff was reporting that Ukraine had knocked out 42% of Russia’s refining, costing Moscow $13.5 billion in losses since August 2025. Earlier, the Associated Press had reported, quoting the Macro-Advisory consultancy, that these attacks had caused the destruction of about one-third of Russia’s refining capacity, a major milestone for Ukraine. Even Russian government statistics, which should be treated with extreme caution as they are most likely manipulated to create a more favorable picture, indicate that gasoline production has been reduced by 17% to 850,000 barrels a day.

In response to the escalating crisis, on June 1, the Russian government introduced the first-ever ban on the export of jet fuel, which is to remain in effect until November 30. This comes after a restriction on the export of petroleum that has been in place since April and is due to expire at the end of July. Russia’s Deputy Prime Minister Alexander Novak also revealed that the authorities are considering a ban on the export of diesel fuel. The situation must be really dire if Russia, one of the world’s top energy exporters, is resorting to such measures.

A Friend in Need: Russia Turns to Belarus and Kazakhstan

To remedy the situation, Russia plans to import 400,000 tons of gasoline per month, according to an anonymous industry source, as reported by Reuters on July 1. However, considering that Russia’s daily consumption of petroleum in summer reaches 110,000 tons, this volume will not be sufficient. Moreover, as Alexander Kolyandr at the Center for European Policy Analysis (CEPA) points out, Ukrainian drone strikes have affected eight out of the ten largest refineries in Russia that currently produce about 85,000 tons of gasoline daily, leaving a shortfall of 25,000 tons per day. Consequently, Russia leaned on its long-time ally Belarus, leading to a threefold increase in Belarusian petroleum exports delivered to Russia by rail in the first half of June compared to May, reaching more than 70,000 tons. Belarus is opportunistically profiting handsomely from this arrangement as it has hiked the price of gasoline it sells to Russia. Since May, it has almost doubled to $1,646 per ton, as the Russian business daily Kommersant reports. However, given Russia’s daily consumption, Belarusian petroleum exports are simply not enough.

While Russia has turned to Kazakhstan for help, the degree of influence it wields over Astana is significantly different, which explains why the assistance it has been promised is less significant. Industry sources in Kazakhstan told Reuters that Kazakhstan agreed to supply 50,000 tons of gasoline (Ai-92 and Ai-95) to Russia in July and August as humanitarian assistance. They also noted that the Kazakh side was not enthusiastic about this because it would strain the already tight gasoline market in Kazakhstan while raising potential sanctions risks. It should be noted that, as of July 2, the Kazakh government officially denied receiving any requests for petroleum from Russia, according to Kazakhstan’s Minister of Energy Yerlan Akkenzhenov. Regardless of the veracity of the report by Reuters, which is likely credible, Kazakhstan is dogged by limited refining capacity.

To avoid shortages on the domestic market, Kazakh authorities banned the export of gasoline, diesel fuel, and other oil products, starting from November 2025. Since then, this ban has been extended twice, most recently in April, and it is due to expire in November. However, on 3 July, the energy ministry published a draft law that will extend the ban from November to May 2027.

Outlook

Given production and refining constraints in Kazakhstan and Belarus, they are unlikely to mitigate Russia’s deepening fuel crisis. Nonetheless, this presents Kazakhstan with a excellent opportunity to demonstrate its symbolic loyalty to Russia, even as it balances that relationship against its growing ties with the EU and the United States.

On both fronts, Kazakhstan can boast significant achievements, especially with regard to the European Union, as demonstrated by President Tokayev’s visit to Brussels in June that was preceded by the conclusion of $462 million worth of agreements to deepen connectivity between Kazakhstan and the EU via the Middle Corridor.

Kazakhstan’s constraints are systemic due to its considerably underdeveloped refining capacity. With only three main refineries (located in Pavlodar, Atyrau, and Shymkent), Kazakhstan’s aggregate refining capacity is only 18 million tons annually even though the country produces about 100 million tons of oil per year. The government unveiled ambitious plans for boosting refining capacity, but even the recently accelerated timeline envisions increasing it to 40 million tons only by 2033. This provides Tokayev with the perfect excuse to decline further requests from Russia without angering either the Kremlin or Ukraine.

Unable to shore up support in the “near abroad,” Russia is turning its attention further afield. Naturally, India, as the second-largest buyer of Russian crude in the world in May, emerges as the most reliable option. Reuters reported on 1 July that a shipment of 60,000 tons of gasoline was en route from India to Russia by sea, loaded on two tankers. The Indian energy minister Puri’s superficial denials notwithstanding, anonymous sources with direct knowledge of the relevant deals told Reuters that the said shipment originated with the Indian refiner Nayara Energy, which is 40%-owned by Rosneft. India gets Russian crude at a significant discount, but it’s likely that Russia receives gasoline from India at a premium price considering that, as the Indian authorities claim, Russia imports it via intermediaries.

Even if you add all of the above, including Kazakhstan’s likely one-off contribution and supplies from Belarus and India, the combined total falls short of meeting Russia’s summer peak in daily consumption. This, in turn, proves that Ukraine’s strategy of “kinetic sanctions” is effective as Russia is incapable of repairing damaged refineries quickly enough to offset the reduction in refining capacity caused by the Ukrainian strikes. Nor is the Russian government’s ambitious objective of importing 400,000 tons of gasoline per month enough to cover Russia’s daily demand. In addition, Ukraine also has the option of ramping up maritime attacks against tankers delivering gasoline to Russia as well as targeting the key Russian ports where the imported gasoline is unloaded. Apart from substantially increasing public anger in Russia, Ukrainian strikes against refineries also severely endanger Russia’s agricultural sector by derailing the crucial grain harvest season, as farmers complain that they have no fuel to run combines.

*Note: This total does not include Crimea and four other regions of Ukraine (Donetsk, Luhansk, Kherson, and Zaporizhzhia) that Russia unlawfully declared annexed in September 2022.

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About the Author:

Alex Melikishvili is a senior country risk analyst with more than a decade of experience working in the private sector (S&P Global, IHS Markit) with a focus on Eurasian security. Alex holds a master’s degree in International Affairs from the George Washington University’s Elliott School of International Affairs.

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As the nation commemorates its 250th anniversary, The Saratoga Foundation—a U.S. think tank named after the historic Revolutionary War battle that marked a turning point in America’s war for independence—would like to wish everyone a Happy Fourth of July! On this historic occasion, we would like to take a moment to express our deepest gratitude to our supporters, both here at home and overseas.

Just as the Battle of Saratoga in 1777 proved to be a turning point in America’s founding, this holiday we honor the valiant efforts of the Ukrainian people. They continue to fight bravely to preserve their own independence at a critical geographic crossroads—in what has become the longest and bloodiest conflict in Europe since the Second World War.

In a historic address to a joint session of Congress in December 2022, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy invoked the Battle of Saratoga, highlighting how the battle proved to be a turning point that led to the victory of the thirteen colonies in the American Revolution.

While the Ukraine war is far from over, Saratoga remains deeply committed to providing the timely, rigorous analysis needed to understand this conflict, as well as other critical flashpoints across the Eurasian Rimland—work that cannot be done without your interest and support.

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The Houthis are looking for a new enemy. The October 2025 Gaza ceasefire took away the cause that had carried them for two years, and the solidarity-with-Iran line they have tried in its place has gained little traction with a significant percentage of the population wary of Tehran. With the “defending Gaza” narrative minimized, the movement is reaching back for an older adversary — Saudi Arabia, which it fought from 2015 until the 2022 truce — and recasting it as the author of Yemen’s economic ruin. That search itself is a measure of the Houthis’ relative weakness: they are more fragile than they have been in years, underfunded, short of fuel and food, and losing their once-firm hold over some key northern tribes.

Their adversaries, namely the recognized Government of Yemen (GoY), are no stronger. GoY has, for once, made some headway — Saudi Arabia rolled back a UAE-backed offensive by the Southern Transitional Council (STC) in January, and a new GoY defense ministry has begun to weld its disparate forces into something closer to a single army. But the gains are shallow and growing shallower, undercut by the rivalry that jump-started the reforms. through local proxies, and the contest among them prevents GoY and what remains of the STC from consolidating. Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates —with Israel backing Abu Dhabi, and Turkey and Qatar supporting Riyadh— pursue rival aims in Yemen.

While the Houthis have spent much of the last three years diversifying supply chains and sources of income away from Iran, the US-Israeli war with Iran has further reduced Iranian aid to the Houthis. Both the Houthis and the GoY are under pressure, and the outside powers that have, to varying degrees, propped them up are the main reason neither can finish off the other.

Searching for an Enemy

Behind the Houthis’ effort to look for an enemy lies increasing economic fragility. The World Food Program announced it was shutting down its operations across the Houthi-controlled north in late January, ending food assistance to a population in acute need. Fuel imports through the Red Sea ports of Hodeidah, Salif, and Ras Issa fell by roughly three-quarters in the first quarter of 2026, with no fuel entering at all in March. The United Nations estimates that more than 18 million Yemenis are facing acute food insecurity, while its humanitarian appeal for the year stood at around 14% funded by mid-2026.

Public-sector salaries across the north have gone unpaid for years, with only periodic payments for a small percentage of public-sector employees. Staple prices across Yemen keep increasing, with the increases most pronounced in Houthi-controlled areas, driven in part by reduced port capacity and the heavy taxes the Houthi authorities levy on what still gets in. The Houthis’ wartime slogans and messages of shared sacrifice ring hollow as members of the Houthi elite continue to construct lavish homes in Sana’a and elsewhere.

The Houthis are now trying to place the blame on Riyadh. They hold Saudi Arabia responsible for the unpaid salaries, so they demand that it release funds from Yemen’s oil and gas revenues and lift restrictions on the northern ports and Sanaa airport. Their media increasingly frames the wider economic crisis as a Saudi-American siege. In June, the movement’s General Mobilization Forces announced full combat readiness, and Abdul-Malik al-Houthi spoke of restoring “full sovereignty” and ending the blockade.

This is a return to a tested approach. The Houthis know from experience that their cross-border strikes on Saudi territory, including the 2022 strike on an Aramco oil depot in Jeddah, were what eventually brought Riyadh to the negotiating table. The threat to Saudi infrastructure remains their most reliable source of leverage. That leverage has only increased with the Iran war and the closure of the Strait of Hormuz. Saudi Arabia now relies on its East-West pipeline and the port of Yanbu for oil exports, both of which are within easy range of the Houthis’ missiles and drones.

Mobilization and the Tribes

The mobilization behind the Houthis’ anti-Saudi rhetoric is real, but narrower than the slogans imply. Recruitment continues under the movement’s wartime narratives, and fighters have been moved up to the front lines facing GoY and the Saudi border. Houthi authority over the northern tribes has always been more of a bargain than pure loyalty: money and government positions for cooperation, and a credible threat of punishment for anyone who withholds it. Both halves of that bargain are weakening at once — the money because the Houthis’ revenues have collapsed and the threat because two years of war have exposed the limits of what the movement can enforce. Sheiks in the outlying districts who once had no reason to question the arrangement are reassessing it, and with a Saudi-backed government reasserting itself in the south, the Houthis are no longer the only conceivable authority.

That reassessment is already producing friction. Tribal figures in several areas have resisted Houthi demands, and the movement has answered with purges, death sentences, and tighter surveillance of its own ranks. The leadership knows where this can lead. Ali Abdullah Saleh ruled Yemen through patronage as well, and lost it once corruption, falling revenue, and the cost of his wars left him unable to keep paying. The Houthis are nearer to that point now than they have been in years.

The strain is no longer hypothetical. In late June, a tribal call to arms filled the Al-Rayyan area of eastern Al-Jawf with armed men for days on end, drawing delegations from Hadhramaut, Marib, and the Mahra, after the Houthis detained a tribal sheik who had taken up the cause of a woman who said a Houthi-linked arms dealer had seized her Sanaa home. What began as a quarrel over a single house hardened into an organized encampment that named a commander to coordinate any escalation, while the Houthis put their forces in the area on alert. Confrontations like this are usually bought off or mediated before they reach gunfire, and this one likely will be. However, many tribal leaders who were once at least nominally allied with the Houthis sense the group’s weakness and are increasingly reasserting their local authority.

The Bab al-Mandeb

The same fragility that constrains the Houthis on land governs their conduct at sea. They hold much of Yemen’s Red Sea coast and have the anti-ship missiles, drones, and mines to make the Bab al-Mandeb impassable, yet they have left it open. Since the Gaza ceasefire, they have kept to selective strikes; in early June, they hit Israel-linked vessels in the Gulf of Aden and renewed a ban on Israeli shipping, but general traffic has kept moving, and the strait has not been closed. Traffic through the strait has yet to recover to pre-2025 levels.

The Houthis’ restraint reflects both weakness and pragmatism. The Houthis’ ports — Hodeidah, Salif, and Ras Issa — are critical to their finances and north Yemen’s economy. They tax all imports and depend on those imports to feed the north and fund the movement. A wider maritime campaign, or an outright closure, would bring the one response they cannot absorb as easily as they did in previous campaigns: renewed Israeli and American strikes on Hodeidah, which have already damaged port infrastructure and tightened the flow of food and fuel into Houthi territory.

For now, the threat of closure is far more useful than actual closure, and the threat of closing the strait has been replaced by the more potent and direct threat of attacking Saudi Arabia’s oil handling infrastructure. The Houthis’ dire financial situation and the rising threat of social unrest due to rising food prices and shortages mean that they need the strait open to maintain their grip on power.

Captured by Its Patrons

The Houthis’ core constraint is now financial. Yemen’s recognized government (GoY) faces a core constraint: its persistent inability to reform itself or govern the territory it claims. GoY, now more than ever, is dependent on its chief patron, Saudi Arabia, for financial and military support. Saudi Arabia’s increasingly overt management and backing of GoY are critical, but they also subvert GoY’s already limited authority. GoY’s one real gain of the past year, retaking the south, was Saudi Arabia’s work more than its own.

In December 2025, the Southern Transitional Council (STC), backed by the United Arab Emirates, launched “Operation Promising Future,” seizing the oil-rich governorates of Hadramawt and al-Mahra along the Saudi border. Though fought by Yemenis, the offensive was in substance an Emirati one, carried out with Emirati arms and Emirati backing. It came less than three months before the United States and Israel went to war with Iran, and within weeks of Israel’s December 26 recognition of Somaliland across the Gulf of Aden. Together, the offensive and the recognition are best read as an effort by the UAE and Israel to secure positions along the Red Sea and Gulf of Aden corridor before the confrontation with Iran began.

The effort failed. Riyadh treated a UAE-aligned force on its southern frontier as a direct threat, hit Emirati arms shipments at Mukalla on December 30, and backed a counteroffensive in January that retook the territory, dissolved the STC, and drove its leader, Aidarous al-Zubaidi, into exile in Abu Dhabi. The UAE withdrew its remaining forces. The episode nonetheless put Riyadh on notice. Saudi Arabia now treats the deepening UAE-Israel partnership as a driver of regional instability nearly on a par with Iran, and sees in it the makings of strategic encirclement along its flanks. Its answer has been to move closer to Turkey and Qatar while distancing itself from Emirati policy, and to take the southern file in hand itself, running it through a Supreme Military Committee under coalition command, a degree of direct control over Yemeni affairs the Saudis had avoided throughout the war.

Somaliland belongs to the same design. For Israel, recognition opened the way to a possible military and intelligence foothold in Somaliland, across the water from Yemen, from which to watch and strike the Houthis at a time when missile fire has all but closed the port of Eilat. A divided and contested Yemen serves that end, as does a southern authority open to the Abraham Accords, which the STC’s leadership had signaled it would join. For Riyadh, the UAE-backed offensive in south Yemen, paired with Israeli recognition of Somaliland, was an existential threat that required a maximal response.

The South

Whatever the maps now show, GoY’s hold on the south is shallow. The STC’s dissolution is disputed by members who reject it and continue to act in the group’s name, and the central demand of the southern movement, self-determination, is a direct threat to GoY and, now by extension, to Saudi Arabia and its regional allies. STC-aligned forces now operate as low-level insurgents against a government they were nominally part of until recently. GoY’s response has been forceful. Its troops fired on pro-STC demonstrators in Aden in February and in Mukalla in early April, killing several, and Human Rights Watch documented the use of excessive force and arbitrary detention in Aden. These actions undercut the already limited authority the government had only just begun to establish.

Yemen’s eastern governorates continue on their own particular trajectories. In Hadhramaut, the governorate that holds most of Yemen’s oil, the Saudi-backed Hadramawt Tribal Alliance (HTA) under Amr bin Habreesh continues to quietly press for autonomy and a larger share of the governorate’s oil revenue. The HTA answers to neither the government nor the southern separatists, and Saudi Arabia courts the alliance as a counterweight to both the GoY and the southern separatists.

Image Source: Yemen Monitor

A Hollow State

The hollowness shows most plainly in GoY’s failure to keep the lights on in Yemen’s wartime capital, Aden. A Saudi fuel grant in January gave Aden close to twenty hours of power a day, an improvement residents had not seen in years. The relief did not last. As summer temperatures rose, outages lasted up to 20 hours a day, with residents protesting in the streets and some sleeping outdoors to escape the heat. A further $150 million Saudi fuel package announced in late May produced no noticeable improvement. Repeated promises followed by repeated shortfalls have become the pattern, and residents have stopped expecting otherwise.

Corruption remains a core driver of the ongoing failures. The electricity sector has long been among the government’s largest budget lines and one of its most plundered, with vast sums spent in recent years for little to show for it. The waste drains the treasury and, worse, leaves the government without the means to deliver the services on which GoY’s legitimacy rests. In most of what touches ordinary life for Yemenis — power, water, salaries, healthcare, the courts — it is a government in form more than in substance, recognized abroad and kept solvent by Saudi transfers.

The exception is the army, the one institution the government has genuinely begun to reform, albeit unevenly. Since February, a new defense minister has consolidated most of the duplicated commands and payrolls he inherited, begun a unified personnel database and biometric payroll to purge ghost soldiers from its rolls, and restored a measure of coordination among forces that had spent a decade pulling apart. Yet the strongest formations still answer to their own patrons and senior commanders rather than to a single chain of command — the Saudi-funded National Shield to the council’s chairman, the southern brigades to the commanders who raised them — and the central authority now drawing them together and funding them is the Saudi-led Supreme Military Committee, not the president of Yemen. Command and control is slowly being unified, but into Riyadh’s hands rather than GoY’s. Even the government’s one act of state-building deepens its dependence on its core patron.

Outlook: What Comes Next?

Neither the Houthis nor the GoY are positioned for or strong enough to launch the kinds of offensives that could reshape Yemen’s political and military landscapes. The front lines have scarcely moved since the 2022 truce and are unlikely to move over near- or medium-term timeframes. All armed parties in Yemen now possess a range of UAVs for surveillance and attack. The diffusion of UAVs further locks in the frontlines, as surveillance is ubiquitous and massing troops carries greater risks.

Due to what it perceives as an existential threat from the UAE and Israel, Saudi Arabia is now more deeply involved in day-to-day affairs in Yemen than it ever has been. Saudi military and civilian advisers are now key decision-makers who, in many cases, are positioned ahead of GoY civilian and military officials. Saudi involvement is unlikely to diminish in the near term, but neither is it likely to force GoY to move toward more durable and effective governance. At the same time, the Saudis, who are acutely vulnerable to a Houthi attack on the East-West pipeline, will continue to placate the Houthis despite their increasing anti-Saudi rhetoric.

The Houthis and GoY show increasing fragility across multiple sectors, which means they remain balanced against one another. This balance means that Yemen faces what it has faced for much of the last decade, a slow, grinding economic decline that punishes the vast majority of Yemen’s 36 million inhabitants while elites on all sides benefit. At the same time, the continued diffusion of increasingly capable military technology and armaments means that a range of armed actors operating across Yemen will be further empowered. This, in turn, further imperils GoY authority and, increasingly, Houthi authority.

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About the Author:

Michael Horton is the co-founder of Red Sea Analytics International (RSAI) and a contributing author at Eurasia Outlook. He has two decades of experience as an analyst and researcher in Yemen and the Red Sea region. Michael has written policy briefs and conducted briefings and seminars for the US National Security Council, the British Foreign Ministry, the British Ministry of Defense, the US State Department, and senior members of the British Parliament and the US Congress. He has written extensively about the region for The Saratoga Foundation, Jane’s Intelligence Review, the Combating Terrorism Center at West Point, Oxford Analytica, and The Economist,.

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Briefs

Russian Z Bloggers Turn Critical of Moscow’s China Policy

Russian pro-war military bloggers, commonly known as the “Z” community, are becoming increasingly critical of Moscow’s growing dependence on China, warning that Russia’s strategic partnership with Beijing risks becoming an unequal relationship that leaves Moscow as the junior partner.

Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty (Radio Svoboda) in a recent report highlighted growing frustration among nationalist and pro-Kremlin commentators who argue that Russia’s confrontation with the West has unintentionally deepened its reliance on China. According to Radio Svoboda, their criticism is not directed at the Kremlin’s war policy, but at what they see as an erosion of Russian sovereignty through economic dependence on Beijing. Some Z bloggers warn that Russia risks becoming a “raw materials supplier” for China, providing oil, gas, and other resources while receiving fewer strategic benefits in return. They argue that Moscow’s isolation from Western markets has strengthened China’s negotiating position and reduced Russia’s leverage.

One of the particular targets of their online criticism is the proposed Power of Siberia 2 gas pipeline. Z bloggers argue that Moscow needs the project more urgently than Beijing because Russia has lost much of its former European energy market. They claim China is in a stronger position to negotiate prices and terms, turning the pipeline into an example of Russia’s growing dependence on its eastern neighbor.

The criticism is significant because it comes from voices that generally support the Kremlin’s nationalist agenda. The Z bloggers are not calling for reconciliation with the West; rather, they fear Russia’s pivot toward China may place the country in a subordinate position within a China-centered Eurasian order. The debate reveals a growing tension inside Russia: while the Kremlin portrays the partnership with China as an alliance of equals, some of its strongest nationalist supporters increasingly question whether the relationship truly benefits Moscow.

                      Image Source: EastRussia.ru

Russia-China Economic Partnership Faces New Strains Over Beijing’s Growing Leverage

In a rare criticism of Sino-Russian relations, EastRussia.ru, a Russian publication focused on Siberia and the Russian Far East, reports that growing tensions are emerging beneath the surface of the Russia-China partnership. While the Kremlin continues to portray Beijing as Russia’s most important strategic partner, Russian analysts and business circles are increasingly concerned that the economic relationship is becoming increasingly unequal, with China holding greater leverage over critical supplies, technology access, and trade.

EastRussia.ru notes that one of the most sensitive issues is Chinese control over rare earth elements and other strategic materials. Beijing’s dominance over global rare earth processing, combined with tighter export controls on critical technologies and materials, has raised concerns in Moscow that Russia remains vulnerable to Chinese decisions affecting key industrial sectors. Rare earths are essential for advanced manufacturing, electronics, energy technologies, and defense production, making China’s control over these supply chains a significant source of economic influence.

The issue highlights a broader challenge in bilateral economic ties. Since Western sanctions sharply reduced Russia’s access to European markets, China has become Russia’s primary alternative source of manufactured goods, industrial equipment, and technology. However, Russian businesses increasingly worry that this dependence is creating a one-sided relationship in which Chinese companies enter Russian markets from a position of strength while domestic industries struggle to compete.

EastRussia.ru notes that Russian companies are increasingly concerned about the growing presence of Chinese firms in sectors ranging from automobiles and machinery to consumer goods and industrial production. While Chinese investment and trade provide important economic benefits, some Russian observers fear that local manufacturers could become increasingly dependent on Chinese suppliers and lose competitiveness.

Another area of concern noted by the author in EastRussia.ru is that Chinese companies have become more selective and cautious in dealing with Russia. Despite political statements about a “limitless partnership,” Chinese firms continue to prioritize commercial interests and remain sensitive to secondary sanctions risks by the West. This has created frustration among some Russian businesses that expected greater economic support from Beijing after Moscow’s break with the West. The result is a growing debate inside Russia over the long-term consequences of its economic pivot toward China. Trade between the two countries has expanded, but the structure remains uneven: Russia primarily supplies energy and raw materials, while China provides manufactured goods, technology, and industrial products.

For Moscow, China continues to be an indispensable partner. Yet the concerns over rare earth supplies, technology dependence, and Chinese market dominance reveal a deeper dilemma: Russia sought greater strategic autonomy after breaking with the West, but its increasing reliance on Beijing may be creating a new form of economic dependence — one centered not on Western markets, but on a China-led Eurasian economy.

*Image above: President Putin & Talgat Tadzetdinov, Grand Mufti of Russia

Moscow Moves toward Chinese Model of Controlling Islamic Community

by Paul Goble

The Kitaizatsiya of Russia involves not only the expansion of Chinese activities inside the current borders of the Russian Federation but also the adoption by Moscow of Chinese approaches to various aspects of its governing style. Nowhere has this been more striking than in the case of the way the Russian authorities are now dealing with the management of Russia’s Muslim community. A new article by an anonymous Russian writer that recently appeared in The Moscow Times outlines the origins of this shift and how it is transforming the way the Kremlin is seeking to manage its Muslim population.

According to the author of the article, the reason this is happening is that Putin’s war in Ukraine has made the Russian authorities “less tolerant of any semi-autonomous Muslim institution, even if it is loyal,” and even if the existence of rivalry among multiple muftiates within Russia helped Moscow “manage Muslims.” The model that is now emerging, he continues, still values such rivalry as “useful” but within it, “strict control matters more;” and what is thus emerging is something “closer to the Sinicization of Islam” as practiced in China were imams’ sermons are vetted by party officials, where religious texts are filtered through state-approved values, and the goal is not a state that manages religion but a religion that serves the state.”

That the Kremlin should now want to exert greater control is no surprise, but the challenges it faces in imposing it are far greater. While the total number of Muslims in Russia and China is roughly comparable—approximately 20 to 25 million—their share of the population is vastly larger in the Russian Federation, given that Russia has a much smaller total population than China. Muslims make up roughly 15 to 20 percent of the Russian population, whereas the Muslim share in China is only two or three percent. The difficulties introduced by this demographic difference are further compounded by the distinct traditions that Russian Muslims and the Russian state have developed in dealing with one another over the centuries. Ultimately, this much larger population share, combined with 250 years of institutionalized relations, suggests that any attempt by Moscow to adapt the Chinese model to Russian conditions is likely to be fraught.

The Moscow Times author is fully cognizant of that. He notes that although “for most outside observers, Russian Islam looks like a single official structure that speaks in a loyal voice when the Kremlin needs it to … in reality, Russia’s Muslim institutions have never been so simple. They are fragmented, competitive, and deeply shaped by the state.” The Russian imperial state beginning in the 18^th century set up structures to try to bring Islam to heel, a task that has always been problematic because there is no theological justification in Islam for any hierarchies until the formation of a caliphate and because the Muslim communities within the Russian state are so diverse as to make competition among them almost inevitable as Soviet power weakened and then disappeared and especially in the first decades of post-Soviet Russia.

The three most important of these MSDs – or “super MSDs” as they are often referred to because they include within themselves smaller regional Muslim directorates – are the Central MSD based in Ufa, headed by Talgat Tajuddin, which traces its origins to the times of Catherine the Great, the Muslim Spiritual Directorate of the Russian Federation, headed by Ravil Gainutdin and set up in 1996, and the Spiritual Assembly of the Muslims of Russia, headed by Albir Krganov and operational since 2016. (There is a fourth super-MSD, the Coordinating Center for Muslims of the North Caucasus, which emerged in the 1990s but whose influence is largely restricted to the Islamic community in that region and therefore does not present the same institutional challenges posed by the other three).

Tajuddin has been slavishly loyal to the Kremlin in all things, but his often outrageous behavior – he is sometimes referred to as “the drunken mufti” because of his very public consumption of alcohol – makes him a problem for Moscow. Gaitnutdin has been loyal on political issues like Putin’s war in Ukraine, but has spoken out in defense of Muslims on issues of religious concern, something Tajuddin has tried to avoid. And Krganov has been the most loyal of all, taking a loyalist position on all issues and refusing to speak even on behalf of Muslim needs for more mosques; but he is the least influential, and that explains why Moscow has not tried to build a single MSD around him and has now selected the Chinese model.

These tensions and calculations have been present for more than a decade, but in May, the Russian government arrested a number of lesser Muslim leaders in ways that suggest the Kremlin is now prepared to change the way it runs Islam in the Russian Federation, the Moscow Times author says. In support of that suggestion, he cites the words of Roman Silantyev, a Russian specialist on Islam with close ties to the FSB, who said that the Muslim leaders who have now been arrested will be charged with terrorism, a significant change from earlier arrests of such people who had been accused of radical Islamism, foreign funding, or separatism. That new government line is directed in the first instance at Gainutdin because it indicates that for the Kremlin now, “loyalty is no longer enough if a religious institution still behaves like an institution. In wartime Russia, even official Islam is being pushed toward a late Soviet model” or more precisely to the Chinese one now “where religion may exist in public, but only as long as it does not really speak for itself.”

Beyond doubt, that is the Kremlin’s goal; but whether it can achieve it remains an open question given that at least some Muslims will resist, possibly exiting from one or all of the super MSDs and thus leaving Moscow with even less leverage than it has had up to now – yet another way the Kitaizatsiya of Russia is proceeding albeit in ways that neither Moscow nor Beijing may want.

Dependency Without Ownership: China’s Rising Influence in Sakhalin’s Energy and Trade

By Sergey Sukhankin

Sakhalin is rapidly becoming one of the clearest examples of China’s growing influence in the Russian Far East. Its trajectory, however, differs from that of other mainland regions bordering China. Unlike Amur Oblast, the Jewish Autonomous Oblast (JAO), or Primorye, where Chinese influence is driven by a certain logistics-related logic, Sakhalin’s reorientation toward China is emerging through four key areas: energy exports, seafood trade, investment promotion, and air connectivity. The result is a softer but more durable form of dependence whereby Moscow retains formal ownership and political control, while Beijing is increasingly reshaping the commercial environment in which the island’s economy develops.

Launched in May 2026, Aurora Airlines announced the creation of a direct Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk–Shanghai route, the first civil aviation link connecting Sakhalin directly with Shanghai. Weekly flights are scheduled to begin on July 2. The announcement fits into a broader post-2022 pattern of deepening Sakhalin–China economic connectivity. Since 2022, China’s presence and influence have expanded across Sakhalin’s key strategic industries and export sectors, especially LNG, pipeline gas, coal, fisheries, and transport connectivity. Sakhalin’s exports to China were projected to reach up to $8 billion in 2025, with LNG, seafood, and coal forming the core of the trade relationship. Russian Energy Minister Sergei Tsivilev also stated that Moscow intended to increase LNG exports to China from the Arctic LNG-2 and Sakhalin-2 projects.

More consequentially, Russia is expected to begin pipeline gas deliveries to China from Sakhalin in 2027, with planned volumes of 10 bcm annually, integrating the island’s gas base into the broader “Far Eastern route” to China. The fisheries sector is also moving in the same direction: in January–May 2026, Primorye and Sakhalin exported 591,000 of fish and seafood, with China accounting for the main share of locally sourced seafood exports. Taken together, these trends suggest that Sakhalin’s external economic orientation is becoming increasingly China-centered, even in the absence of a direct land border.

In light of these emerging developments, Sakhalin illustrates a new model for Chinese interaction with the Russian Far East that can be characterized as “dependency without ownership.” Based upon this model China need not control strategic assets directly if its leverage grows through demand, logistics, financing, and long-term market access.

Sakhalin After 2022: From Diversified Energy Frontier to China-Facing Economy

For much of the post-Soviet period, Sakhalin’s greatest strength was not only its offshore oil and gas potential but the diversity of its international partnerships. It arguably remained Russia’s most internationally embedded energy frontier. Its offshore projects were not built around a single actor (China) but around a broader Asia-Pacific strategy that combined Western, Japanese, Chinese, and South Korean investment and expertise. This structure gave Moscow access to capital, LNG technology, project-management expertise, and a diversified Asian customer base. The region’s broader export structure reflected this diversification. In 2021, Sakhalin’s exports totaled $11.5 billion, with South Korea accounting for 56.6 percent, Japan for 22 percent, China for 17.4 percent, and Taiwan for 2.4 percent. This structure gave Sakhalin strategic flexibility. While China was important, it was not indispensable: Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, Western firms, and Chinese buyers together created a diversified external environment that limited any single actor’s leverage over the island’s economy.

However, following Russia’s reinvasion of Ukraine in 2022, and the onset of western sanctions, this diversification strategy came under severe pressure. Sakhalin like the rest of the Russian economy experienced the exit of Western corporations, and the re-registration of Sakhalin projects under Russian jurisdiction greatly narrowed Moscow’s room for maneuver. For example, on February 28, 2022, Shell announced that it would exit its Russian joint ventures, including its 27.5 percent minus one share stake in the Sakhalin-2 LNG project. On March 1, ExxonMobil announced its withdrawal from Sakhalin-1, where it had held 30 percent and acted as operator. Japanese Mitsui and Mitsubishi so far have failed to exit Sakhalin-2 and continue to hold minority stakes of 12.5 and 10 percent, respectively. Yet their involvement has become more constrained and politically sensitive: they are now minority shareholders in a Russian-controlled operator, while Gazprom’s position strengthened after Shell’s exit. Japan has justified its continued participation primarily on energy-security grounds, as Sakhalin-2 remains an important LNG source for Japan but Japanese participation expires between 2028 – 2033.

The future of Japanese involvement is therefore one of the key variables shaping Sakhalin’s economic trajectory. As long as Japan remains a major LNG buyer and Japanese firms retain minority stakes in Sakhalin-2, the island preserves some degree of external diversification. If Japanese investment weakens after the late 2020s, China would be positioned to absorb a larger role as Sakhalin’s principal external economic counterpart. From a technological standpoint, South Korean firms – which previously played an important role in providing solutions for Sakhalin-based energy projects – have also largely suspended their participation in projects on the island.

The gap created by the reduced activity of Russia’s foreign partners has increasingly been filled by China. One key post-2022 marker of China’s growing economic footprint in Sakhalin was the September 11, 2023 agreement signed at the Eastern Economic Forum, under which China’s Shouneng Investment Management committed to invest $264 million (20 billion rubles) in production and logistics projects across Sakhalin, including timber processing, a marine transshipment complex, coal extraction, and a logistics center in Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk. Therefore, China’s presence in Sakhalin after 2022 was neither sudden nor unprecedented: China had already been a significant export destination before the war. The crucial change that occurred was that Russia lost alternative investors. As foreign participation receded China became not merely an important partner but an increasingly indispensable buyer, logistics partner, investor, and future gas-market anchor.

Hydrocarbons: The Core of China’s Emerging Leverage

Energy is the strongest channel through which Chinese influence over Sakhalin is expanding. The shift did not begin after 2022, as the first significant Chinese investment in a Sakhalin energy project occurred in 2005, but the post-2022 period clarified this strategic trend. After Russia’s rupture with the West, Sakhalin-2 remained one of Moscow’s most important surviving LNG assets in the Asia-Pacific. The project’s LNG plant has a design capacity of 9.6 million tons per year and has continued to operate above that level despite sanctions pressure and corporate restructuring. In 2025, news reports citing Sakhalin Energy stated that shipments rose slightly to 10.3 million tons, suggesting stabilization rather than decline. This resilience is strategically important: Sakhalin-2 has not merely survived sanctions; it has remained one of the few Russian LNG platforms still capable of sustaining Russia’s energy presence in premium Asian markets.

China’s role in this structure is increasingly asymmetric. In LNG, Japan remained Sakhalin-2’s largest buyer in 2025, taking 58 percent of shipments, while China consolidated its position as the second-largest market with 24 percent, despite a 3.8 percent decline compared with 2024. In oil-gas-condensate exports, however, China has acquired a near-monopolistic position, taking 97.7 percent of local output. This distinction matters. Sakhalin has not become a China-dominated LNG platform, but Beijing is already dominant in another key hydrocarbon stream and is positioned to expand its role should Japanese participation weaken. Given the possibility that Japanese partners may eventually reduce their presence in the project, Moscow has repeatedly signaled that it sees China as the natural alternative market. In October 2025, Energy Minister Sergei Tsivilev stated that Russia planned to increase LNG exports to China, especially from Sakhalin-2.

The more consequential development is pipeline gas. The Sakhalin–Khabarovsk–Vladivostok gas transportation system – originally designed between 2007 and 2009 as a project connecting Russia with Indo-Pacific energy markets – is now being repurposed into part of a China-facing export architecture. Deliveries to China through the Far Eastern route are scheduled to begin in January 2027. The Gazprom–CNPC contract envisages deliveries of up to 10 billion cubic meters annually for at least 25 years, creating a long-term infrastructure commitment rather than a temporary export arrangement. This will not give China ownership, but it will tie Sakhalin’s resource base to Chinese demand for decades. Russian commentary has been cautious about the commercial terms of Gazprom’s China pivot. Some experts have argued that the earlier Power of Siberia contract was concluded on terms favorable to China and could be only minimally profitable or difficult to recoup for Gazprom. Analyst Alexei Grivach has similarly described Far Eastern volumes as “small by Chinese standards”, even if politically useful for bilateral gas cooperation. Western assessments are more explicit about the strategic asymmetry. One study asserted that China can partly compensate for Russia’s lost European demand, but Chinese contracts are inferior to former EU contracts in both volume and price terms.

The strategic implications from these developments is quite clear: Beijing does not need to own Sakhalin’s energy infrastructure to acquire leverage over it. Ownership remains Russian, and Moscow continues to guard strategic assets. Yet China is becoming increasingly capable of shaping demand, commercial viability, export priorities, and long-term infrastructure planning. Beijing’s leverage stems less from ownership than from its growing ability to influence the commercial viability of Sakhalin’s energy sector.

Strategic Implications: Economic Dependence Without Formal Control

China’s growing role in Sakhalin is not limited to hydrocarbons. Supplementary areas of Chinese influence that have emerged (or strengthened) since 2022 include fisheries, logistics, aviation, port projects, and regional investment promotion. While each individual development has clear limitations, taken together they point to a gradual reorientation of Sakhalin’s external economic networks toward China.

First, the fisheries sector clearly illustrates this shift. Chinese leverage does not require ownership of extraction assets; rather, it emerges through demand, processing, logistics, and distribution, as seen in Kamchatka. Between January and May 2026, Sakhalin, along with Primorsky Krai, exported 591,000 tons of fish and seafood, with China accounting for the main (although unspecified) share of Russian exports. As a result, while Russia retains formal control over marine resources, China increasingly influences the downstream chain and key operations, including purchasing, pricing, customs access, processing, and resale.

Second, logistics and connectivity are moving in the same direction. As noted earlier, in 2025, Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk airport identified China as a priority foreign destination and projected that passenger traffic on Chinese air transport routes could reach as high as 100,000 visitors by 2029. Aurora later opened regular Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk–Harbin flights starting on October 26 and subsequently launched ticket sales for flights from Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk to Beijing and Harbin in the summer of 2026. Furthermore, in late May 2026, officials announced the opening of a direct Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk–Shanghai route, Sakhalin’s first direct civil aviation link with the Chinese commercial hub. These routes should not be viewed merely as tourist links. Rather, changing logistics and connectivity between Sakhalin and Chinese cities mirror the changing institutional infrastructure of Sakhalin’s China-facing economy.

Third, Chinese regional investment policy supplements this trajectory. In 2024, regional media reported that Chinese investors planned to invest nearly 60 billion rubles in a multifunctional logistics terminal in Aleksandrovsk-Sakhalinsky and a wood-processing facility, projects expected to create hundreds of new jobs in the region. Unlike poorer Far Eastern regions seeking Chinese capital primarily for job creation, Sakhalin’s challenge is sustaining growth amid labor and infrastructure constraints. In this context, Chinese demand, financing, and logistical connectivity are increasingly viewed by regional authorities as instruments for maintaining economic expansion rather than simply addressing social distress. In 2025, Sakhalin officials began formally searching for Chinese partners to establish technology and industrial parks in the region, while regional investment officials openly stated that Chinese investors were showing growing interest in coal, peat processing, and bio-marine resource projects, whose cultivation in the region is particularly successful due to local climatic conditions.

Lastly, China’s deepening integration into the peripheral sectors driving Sakhalin’s economic development underscores the region’s increasing structural pivot toward Beijing. Over time, this reconfiguration could risk placing the island under a soft yet institutionalized form of economic subordination. Ultimately, Chinese capital, logistics, and market integration will serve as the primary determinants fueling sectoral growth, project financing, and export viability. Beijing’s capital, logistics, and market access will increasingly determine which sectors grow, which projects receive financing, and which export channels remain viable.

Limits to Chinese Penetration

Chinese interest in Sakhalin is primarily shaped by its resource-supply application – not as a broad platform for regional integration. Therefore, Sakhalin’s China-bound exports are heavily concentrated in LNG/natural gas and seafood, which narrows the space for diversified Chinese investment.

One of the key variables that explains China`s comparatively lower level of involvement in Sakhalin is defined by geography. Sakhalin remains an island, whereas China’s preferred Far Eastern corridors are land-based (Amur Oblast, the JAO, Zabaykalsky Krai) or port-linked (Primorsky Krai and Khabarovsk Krai) mainland corridors. This distinction is important because Chinese engagement in the Russian Far East is not just about obtaining access to natural resources but, perhaps, more so about the ability to control or participate in transportation networks connecting Chinese markets with Russian resources. Regions such as Amur Oblast, the JAO, Zabaykalsky Krai, and Primorsky Krai fit this logic, where Sakhalin does not serve this purpose to the same extent. As a result, it occupies a lower position in China’s broader strategy of cross-border economic integration despite its substantial resource wealth.

A further constraint is administrative and bureaucratic friction. Russian and Russian language sources from pre-2022 period repeatedly identify the investment climate, regulatory barriers, weak legal predictability, and administrative procedures as obstacles for foreign investors including China. Importantly, these issues did not disappear after 2022, when Russia`s ability to maneuver contracted significantly while its reliance on China became overwhelming. Arguably, the administrative-bureaucratic hurdles matter more for Sakhalin than for some other regions comprising the Russian Far East. For example, in areas like Primorye or Amur Oblast administrative costs may be offset by border access, logistics scale, and diversified commercial opportunities. Sakhalin, however, offers fewer such compensating advantages. Thus, Sakhalin remains useful to Beijing, but mainly as a supplier, which makes the mainland Far East more attractive as a corridor, market, and investment platform.

Conclusion

As a case study of Chinese economic encroachment on the Russian Far East, Sakhalin demonstrates how Chinese influence in the Russian Far East can expand without territorial proximity, mass migration, or formal ownership of strategic assets. Regardless, the island remains politically and legally under firm Russian control. Yet its export structure, investment outreach, transport connectivity, and future energy planning are increasingly shaped by Chinese demand. This makes Sakhalin different from mainland border regions, but no less important. Since 2022, the central change has been the weakening of Russian alternatives. Sakhalin once benefited from a diversified Asia-Pacific economic network involving Japan, South Korea, Western firms, and China. As that network narrowed, China became more than a major buyer; it became the indispensable external counterpart. If this trajectory continues, Sakhalin may become a model for Russia’s broader post-Ukraine relationship with China: sovereignty without autonomy, ownership without leverage, and formal control constrained by growing dependence on Beijing.

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The recent two-day visit to Azerbaijan by Turkmenistan President Serdar Berdimuhamedov from June 22-23 has been hailed as a major milestone in bilateral relations. Indeed, ten years ago, not only such a warm welcome, but even a visit by Turkmenistan’s head of state would have seemed highly unlikely. The two countries have come a long way from disputing ownership of a Caspian oil field to agreeing on its joint development and symbolically naming it Dostluk (“Friendship”) - a word that carries a similar meaning in both Azerbaijani and Turkmen.

The Turkmen president’s visit to Azerbaijan has again raised hopes that the long-discussed Trans-Caspian Gas Pipeline (TCGP) project might finally gain new momentum. The recent endorsement of the Trans-Caspian corridor by U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio during a meeting with Turkmen Foreign Minister Rashid Meredov on May 29 has once again renewed interest in the geopolitical significance of the Trans-Caspian undersea gas pipeline, once championed by U.S. officials in the 1990s. Successive U.S. administrations have supported the idea of a Trans-Caspian energy link as a means of strengthening the sovereignty and economic independence of the South Caucasus and Central Asia, diversifying export routes, and reducing excessive dependence on any single market.

From Azerbaijan’s perspective, strengthening Trans-Caspian connectivity and capitalizing on growing international interest in the Middle Corridor remain key strategic priorities. To Baku’s dismay, Ashgabat has not shared the same level of enthusiasm.

The China Factor in Turkmen Strategy

Several objective reasons explain Turkmenistan’s reluctance to embrace the project and its proclivity to maintain an eastward orientation in its gas exports. First, Turkmenistan is a natural gas exporter, and, unlike Azerbaijan, the overwhelming majority of its proven gas reserves are located in the eastern part of the country. Second, an extensive pipeline network connecting Turkmen gas fields to China is already in place, providing a reliable and established export route. This pipeline system consists of three parallel lines that run for 1,830 kilometers across Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, and Kazakhstan before entering China’s Xinjiang region. The combined design capacity of these three lines is 55 bcm per year (though some of this capacity is shared with smaller export volumes from Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan).

This strategic direction was reinforced in April when China National Petroleum Corporation (CNPC) signed an agreement to develop the fourth phase of the giant Galkynysh gas field, which supplies much of Turkmenistan’s approximately 30 bcm annual gas exports to China. While both countries have periodically discussed the construction of a fourth branch of the Central Asia–China gas pipeline (Line D), the project has faced repeated delays and remains uncertain.

Given these realities, it is highly unlikely that Turkmenistan would invest in a westward export pipeline to transport gas from fields developed largely with Chinese financing and intended primarily for the Chinese market. As a result, Ashgabat’s economic and infrastructure incentives continue to favor an eastward rather than a westward alignment.

Baku’s Energy Diplomacy with Ashgabat

Despite the challenges ahead, Azerbaijan is pursuing a deliberate, long-term energy strategy to engage Turkmenistan by leveraging ongoing developments in the Turkmen offshore oil sector to build support for a western vector to complement its eastern strategy. One promising area where Azerbaijani-Turkmen cooperation could deepen is the exporting of oil and gas from relatively smaller fields in the Caspian Sea.

On June 20^th, Turkmenistan awarded exploration rights for Blocks 19 and 20 to Petronas. The Malaysian company already operates Block 1, which produces around 10 million cubic meters of gas per day. On its own, such production volumes are not sufficient to justify a dedicated export route. However, when combined with output from additional offshore developments, they could eventually create the scale necessary for commercially viable exports across the Caspian.

Azerbaijan is equally interested in expanding cooperation with Turkmenistan in the oil sector. In this context, one of the most symbolic outcomes of the visit was Azerbaijan’s decision to present Turkmenistan with an oil tanker. The vessel was named Dostlug—the Turkmen spelling of “friendship”—echoing the name of the offshore field that has become a powerful symbol of the rapprochement between the two countries.

Gifted by Azerbaijan to Turkmenistan, the “Dostlug” oil tanker was built at the Baku Shipyard and has an overall length of 141 meters, a width of 16.9 meters, and a draft of 4.54 meters. With a deadweight of 7,875 tons and a carrying capacity of 55,000 to 60,000 barrels, the Dostlug is a Volga-Don Max river-sea tanker specifically designed with a shallow draft to navigate the fluctuating water levels of the Caspian Sea and regional canal systems while maximizing its cargo load. Its construction not only demonstrates the development of Azerbaijan’s shipbuilding industry but also highlights Baku’s growing capacity to implement large-scale and technologically complex shipbuilding projects in its modernized shipyard.

From Baku’s perspective, increasing Turkmen oil exports through Azerbaijani infrastructure offers tangible economic benefits. Azerbaijan’s full operator-ship of the 833-kilometer (518-mile) long Baku–Supsa oil pipeline (145,000 bpd) further enhances the attractiveness of such cooperation, allowing Baku greater flexibility in marketing and transit arrangements.

Both President Ilham Aliyev and SOCAR President Rovshan Najaf have confirmed that Turkmen crude is already being transported through the 1,768 kilometer (1099-mile) long Baku–Tbilisi–Ceyhan (BTC) pipeline. According to SOCAR, approximately 230 million barrels of Turkmen oil were shipped via BTC between 2005 and 2022, averaging around 14 million barrels per year. While this is a significant volume, it remains modest compared to BTC’s current throughput capacity of approximately 400,000 barrels per day. This suggests that Azerbaijan’s transit infrastructure has ample room to accommodate additional volumes of Turkmen oil should Ashgabat choose to increase exports through the Caspian corridor.

Outlook

With the recent visit to Baku by the Turkmen President, Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev continues to nurture aspirations for a potential Trans-Caspian pipeline project that could once again be backed by the United States. Secretary’s of State Marco Rubio’s recent statement and meeting with the Turkmen Foreign Minister symbolize a revived level of US interest in the project, and American interest in promoting the Trump Route for International Peace and Prosperity (TRIPP) could bolster US aspirations for greater Caspian connectivity, even linking TRIPP and TCP with the Middle Corridor.

That said, the principal obstacle to the realization of the TCP gas pipeline remains Turkmenistan’s reluctance to make a strategic commitment to the project. Despite Turkmenistan’s recent rapprochement with Azerbaijan and a series of goodwill gestures from Baku, the Turkmen leadership has shown little inclination to take the decisive steps necessary to advance a Trans-Caspian energy corridor.

Instead, Ashgabat appears to be adhering to its long-standing approach: preserving multiple export options without fully committing to any specific westward project while maintaining its eastern connection with China. Projects such as the Trans-Afghanistan-Pakistan-Iran (TAPI) gas pipeline, a project designed to export Turkmen natural gas out of the Caspian basin to energy-deficient markets in South Asia, a Trans-Caspian gas connection, or expanded gas exports to Türkiye via Iran serve less as concrete strategic priorities and more as bargaining chips in negotiations with China, Turkmenistan’s dominant gas customer.

From this perspective, the value of these alternative routes lies not necessarily in their implementation but in the leverage they provide. By keeping the possibility of diversification alive, Turkmenistan seeks to strengthen its negotiating position vis-à-vis Beijing while avoiding commitments that could alter the existing balance of its export relationships. As a result, discussions surrounding westward export routes continue to generate political interest, but tangible progress remains elusive.

This would explain Moscow’s muted response to the Turkmen president’s visit to Baku. At this stage, Moscow is likely to closely observe these developments rather than react strongly, particularly given the numerous political, commercial, and logistical obstacles that continue to hinder progress on the Trans-Caspian Pipeline. From Russia’s perspective, there is still a considerable gap between the positive symbolism surrounding Azerbaijan-Turkmenistan relations and any concrete steps toward the realization of a westward export corridor.

Author Bio:

Rauf Mammadov is a senior manager at Fuld & Company, specializing in energy issues. His research focuses on energy security, global energy industry trends, and energy relations between the Middle East, Central Asia, and the South Caucasus, with a particular emphasis on the post-Soviet countries of Eurasia.

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Hi everyone,

Something significant and unexpected is unfolding in the war in Ukraine: Russia’s critical land bridge linking the Russian-occupied land areas in southern Ukraine known as “Novorossiya” that runs to occupied Crimea along the R-280 highway is increasingly becoming a battlefield in its own right. Once considered a secure Russian logistical artery, the network of roads and rail lines running through occupied Ukrainian territory is now under sustained attack by explosive-laden drones.

Kyiv’s new mid-range drone campaign against Russian military transport routes is turning the Donetsk–Mariupol corridor and the R-280 “Novorossiya” highway into a ‘Mad Max’ death zone where Russian fuel trucks, supply vehicles, and logistical convoys are being hit daily - hundreds of kilometers from the front line. Ukrainian officials have described the campaign as a “logistics lockdown.” Russia’s southern military grouping and its forces in Crimea depend heavily on this overland network to receive daily shipments of food, fuel, ammunition, and reinforcements.

In our new report, The Vanishing Rear: How Ukraine’s Middle-Strike Revolution Is Rewriting Russian Disposition Doctrine on the R-280, Ukrainian security expert Hlib Parfonov addresses these developments as the grinding new reality along the R-280 is forcing a major reassessment within the Russian military over how to counter these attacks.

Key takeaway:

👉 By targeting the connective tissue of Russian logistics, Ukraine is exploiting a fundamental vulnerability of modern warfare: a military force may maintain strong defensive positions at the front while remaining exposed along the arteries that sustain it.

Facing this new reality, Moscow is reaching a stark conclusion about the modern battlefield: troops, equipment, and supply nodes once considered safe in rear areas are now vulnerable to precision strikes conducted by increasingly capable Ukrainian unmanned systems. The response has been a push toward radical dispersal, the abandonment of fixed rear-area assumptions, the deployment of mobile counter-drone teams and robotic surveillance systems, and a new counterintelligence posture designed to withstand persistent observation and attack.

Yet this adaptation reveals a deeper contradiction. Russia is attempting to solve a problem rooted in a traditional conception of the battlefield — protecting static formations and rear-area concentrations — while Ukraine’s drone campaign has shifted the contest onto the roads, logistics networks, and movement corridors that connect the battlefield. In effect, Russia is now confronting the very reconnaissance-strike complex that its own military theorists anticipated decades ago. The result is a transformation of warfare in which mobility, concealment, and logistics resilience may prove as decisive as firepower itself.

In his new report, Hlib argues that Russian military thought has reached a candid conclusion about the modern battlefield: troops in assembly areas hundreds of kilometers behind the front are no longer safe, and their losses may now exceed those of forces in direct contact. The corrective taking shape — radical dispersal, the abandonment of fixed area boundaries, robotic sentries, mobile counter-drone groups, and a counterintelligence regime imposed over the rear — amounts to the deepest revision of Soviet-rooted disposition doctrine in three generations. It is a response to a pressure Ukraine is actively generating: a deep-strike campaign reaching 300 kilometers into the Russian rear that has shifted from hunting air defense to strangling fuel and transport that could undermine Russia’s ability to remain in the occupied areas of “Novorossiya.”

According to Hlib, the deeper irony is that Russia is now rewriting its defensive manual for the reconnaissance-strike complex its own military theorists first prophesied — and that the doctrine answers a stationary problem, concealing a force at rest. At the same time, the threat has migrated to the R-280 highway, where dispersal cannot follow.

To read the report, please click 👉 here.

Enjoy!

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By Andrew McGregor

Since French troops and business interests were expelled from France’s former colonies in the Sahel after a series of Russian-inspired anti-colonial military coups, Paris has sought means of restoring its status as an influential player in Africa. One route has passed through Nairobi, where French president Emmanuel Macron joined a summit of African political and business leaders in mid-May amid deepening military ties with Kenya.

A second, more challenging path is represented by mutual efforts in recent months by both France and its former colony of Algeria to create a rapprochement after decades of hostility, efforts opposed by powerful political elements in both nations.

The Colonial Legacy

Algeria’s transition to independence was far from peaceful, with 132 years of French colonization coming to an end only after a bitter eight-year war (1954-1962) that finished with the death of hundreds of thousands of Algerians and the expulsion from the newly independent nation of French settlers (the pied-noirs) and Algerian collaborators with the colonial regime (the harkis). Algeria’s new regime perceived itself as a Marxist-influenced global center for anti-colonial ideology that had no place in its foreign relations for France, which had declared the integration of Algeria with mainland France as early as 1848.

Franco-Algerian relations, never good, were inflamed in July 2024 when France joined the US and Israel in recognizing Morocco’s sovereignty over the disputed former Spanish colony of Western Sahara, whose Polisario independence movement is supported by Algiers. After Algiers and Paris withdrew their respective ambassadors, Algeria’s National People’s Congress (the lower house of parliament) expressed its displeasure with France’s abandonment of its neutrality on the issue by passing a law in December 2024 decreeing French colonialism a “state crime,” with demands for an official apology and massive reparations.

In France, the education system has been instructed to emphasize the positive aspects of French colonialism, while Algerians frame attitudes to France through a lens of colonial repression, including massacres, summary executions, unwanted nuclear tests and the forced exile of dissidents from the homeland. These perceptions lay behind the Algerian legislation, which also called for the return of historical relics seized by French forces and the criminalization of “glorification” of French colonialism.

The French foreign ministry declared the legislation “manifestly hostile, both to the desire to resume Franco-Algerian dialogue and to calm, constructive work on issues of historical memory.” Conservative French senator Max Brisson rejected what he perceived as a narrowness of historical perception embodied in the Algerian legislation: “The Algerian regime may pronounce as many condemnations as it wishes - it will not erase history. That history has both its dark and its lighter chapters.” Macron made similar remarks in October 2016: “Yes, there was torture in Algeria, but there was also the emergence of a state, or wealth, of a middle class. This is the reality of colonialism. There are elements of civilization and elements of barbarism.”

By February 2017, Macron had changed his tone in remarks made in Algeria, asserting that French colonialism was “genuinely barbaric,” constituting “a part of our past that we have to confront.” With the possibility of a mutually beneficial rapprochement with France looming, Algeria’s upper house, the Council of the Nation, approved a revised version of the legislation in March, dropping the demands for an apology and reparations. According to French foreign minister Jean-Nöel Barrot, what matters most is creating conditions in which France can neutralize drug traffickers, expel Algerians living in France illegally and create new markets for France’s powerful agri-food industry. Barrot, however, did not aid the cause of rapprochement when he reaffirmed his support for Moroccan sovereignty over its “southern provinces” (the Western Sahara) in May of this year.

Mutual Suspicion

Macron’s willingness to engage in a reconciliation process has something less than broad support within France and may be seen by some as a willingness to increase immigration from Algeria. Others suspect Algerian president Abdelmajid Tebboune of trying to create an ultra-nationalist base amongst the five-million-plus French residents of Algerian descent that would enable him to influence French foreign policy. Some Algerian leaders have suggested the French government’s concern over migration issues is a craven attempt to gather domestic political support and appease the French right. Algerian authorities are also troubled by France’s role as a host for Algerian opposition figures as well as fugitives who have absconded with state funds and property obtained through administrative corruption.

A February visit to Algiers by French interior minister Laurent Nuñez led to the reactivation of a dormant framework for security coordination, including cooperation in intelligence matters and the delicate question of repatriating illegal migrants. Counterterrorism coordination was a special feature of the talks, with Algeria sharing a border with Niger and Mali, Sahelian nations that recently expelled French forces fighting Islamist extremists in favor of Russian troops acting under the direction of the Russian Defense Ministry. Two more French ministers have made visits to Algiers in recent months, and French ambassador Stéphane Romatet returned to Algiers in May.

French attitudes towards the rapprochement fall into two camps: the “pragmatists” who favor improved relations with Algeria (as represented by President Macron and his ministers) and the “power struggle” camp (represented by opposition leaders like Bruno Retailleau and Jordan Bardella), who have accused the Macron government of “incredible naiveté” in its dealings with Algeria. The growing rapprochement was described in the Algerian press as the “softening of relations between Algiers and Paris after a long period of freezing fueled by the racist and xenophobic discourse of a part of the French political class.”

Despite this “softening of relations,” Algiers has implemented new policies designed to eventually remove Algeria from the French cultural orbit. Algerian schools have reduced the time spent in class learning French in favor of English language instruction. Last year, for example, English replaced French in Algerian medical schools. The number of students learning French is in steady decline, as government-controlled agencies have switched to the use of Arabic and English in their documents. Le Monde notes that Air Algérie and Algérie Télécom have switched to the use of English and Arabic rather than French for tickets, billing, and receipts. Both are state-owned entities.

This development appears to be part of a gradual transition away from French in education and administration that has not yet been accompanied by any official decrees regarding a full-scale shift to English. The reasons for a gradual rather than abrupt and disruptive switch to English are described by an Algerian researcher as part of a deeper struggle over Algeria’s postcolonial identity, global integration, and the politics of language.

Conclusion

The leaders of both nations have come to the conclusion that a state of permanent estrangement benefits neither. The role of history in defining the quality of Franco-Algerian relations is so vital that Macron created a joint commission of French and Algerian historians to examine historical memory and commissioned a report by historian Benjamin Stora in 2021 to help guide attempts to build a new relationship, a recognition that the course of the present and future cannot be determined without acknowledgement of the burden imposed by history.

It is difficult for both Paris and Algiers to allow their foreign policies to stray very far from public sentiment, which tends to be deeply entrenched in an historical interpretation of the desirability of improved relations. The Algerian regime has benefited in the past from strict adherence to an anti-colonial ideology while blaming Algerian misfortunes on an allegedly hostile France. This may explain the antagonistic approach to improving relations taken by the government-controlled Algerian press, even as diplomatic initiatives for improvement are underway. Elements of French media have also promoted an aggressive suspicion of Algerian motives, suggesting that an Algerian presence in France is tied to toleration of crime and disorder. For both Algeria and France, nothing can be achieved in terms of the sought-after mutually beneficial rapprochement without reference to a contentious past.

About the Author:

Dr. Andrew McGregor is director of Aberfoyle International Security, a Toronto-based consultancy specializing in the security issues of Africa and the Islamic world.

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By Alexander Melikishvili

The US-Israeli war against Iran has had several second-order effects on Ukraine since it commenced on February 28. Most importantly, it has applied upward pressure on oil prices in global energy markets, benefiting Russia’s hydrocarbon-dependent economy. According to the Russian Finance Minister Anton Siluanov, the increase in oil price could result in an additional $2.73 billion in revenues for the state budget. This will, in turn, provide the Putin regime with more financial resources to continue to wage war against Ukraine.

President Zelensky acknowledges this in his open letter to Putin, in which he cites “intelligence reports” indicating that the Russian leader is “considering plans to continue the war into 2027 and 2028.” Russia’s position is further strengthened by the political anxieties in the Trump administration over continued increases in the price of oil. This fear resulted in the US Department of the Treasury’s repeated issuance of 30-day waivers from sanctions on Russian oil starting from March (the latest one dates back to 18 May and is due to expire on 17 June).

The US-led war of choice with Iran also spurred Ukraine to intensify its bombing campaign targeting Russia’s oil and gas sector to deny the Kremlin the windfall profits from soaring oil prices. The Ukrainian military has been relentless in its deep strikes against oil refineries across Russia, forcing Deputy Prime Minister Novak to grudgingly admit the drop in oil production on the sidelines of the St Petersburg International Economic Forum on June 4. In March, Reuters estimated that due to Ukrainian drone strikes on Russia’s strategically important oil export terminals on the Baltic (Ust-Luga and Primorsk) and Black (Novorossiysk) Seas, and the disruption of oil flow via the Druzhba pipeline caused by a Russian drone attack, Russia’s oil export capacity was reduced by 40%.

Ukraine’s “kinetic sanctions” have not been limited to Russian oil refineries, as maritime attacks against the Kremlin’s so-called “shadow fleet” indicate. Vessels carrying Russian oil in contravention of international sanctions have been regularly targeted by Ukraine not only in the Black Sea but as far away as the southern Mediterranean. For example, the tanker Qendil was struck off the coast of Libya in December 2025.

Russia Again Aims for Winter

Owing to the combination of extremely cold weather (coldest in the last 15 years) and persistent Russian strikes against Ukraine’s critical energy infrastructure, this past winter was the hardest for Ukraine since the war began in February 2022. Unable to achieve a major breakthrough along the frontline, which, according to General Oleksandr Syrskyi, the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of Ukraine, stretches over 1,200 km, Russia is increasingly resorting to massive volleys of drones and missiles launched against Ukrainian electrical supply and production facilities. For example, the June 2 attack included 73 missiles and 656 drones, causing power outages in Kyiv and across six regions (Kyiv, Donetsk, Dnipropetrovsk, Kharkiv, Sumy, and Cherkasy).

Moscow’s overarching objective is to degrade Ukraine’s national power grid by destroying the high-power transmission lines and substations that connect its electrical-generation facilities, which are mainly concentrated in the south and west of the country, to industrial demand in the east. As early as January, President Zelensky acknowledged that, because of the Russian attacks, Ukraine’s electrical-generation capacity could cover only 60% of the country’s needs.

*Image above: Naftogaz Facility Struck by Russian missiles in Chernihiv

Russian strategy is ruthlessly methodical, and it is multi-pronged, as it also entails the destruction of Ukraine’s oil and gas infrastructure. In January–April alone, the facilities of Ukraine’s national oil and gas champion, Naftogaz, were struck 96 times, according to its CEO, Serhii Koretskyi. This forced Ukraine to import 2.21 billion cubic meters (bcm) of gas in January–April, which is 2.1 times as much as during the same period in 2025, according to data from the Ukrainian oil and gas consultancy ExPro. Considering that the Iran war increased gas prices in Europe to USD 500–600 per 1,000 cubic meters (compared to below $400 before the war), the debt-laden Naftogaz would need $1.3–1.5 billion to purchase the planned 2–2.5 bcm before the start of the heating season (31 October–31 March), based on Ekonomichna Pravda’s estimates.

The Ukrainian government’s baseline scenario for 2026–2027 envisions having 14.6 bcm in underground storage facilities by the start of the heating season. As of May 25, Ukraine had 10.7 bcm in storage, including 4–5 bcm that must remain in the system for technical maintenance, according to S&P Global Energy CERA. Although Ukraine boasts a network of twelve underground storage facilities (mainly concentrated in the western regions) with a total storage capacity on the order of 31 bcm, the largest in Europe, they have come under repeated attacks. In January, the Bilche-Volytsko-Uherske underground gas storage facility in Stryi district of Lviv region, the largest in Ukraine, was attacked by what the OSCE Parliamentary Assembly’s Parliamentary Support Team for Ukraine described as “a missile of the ‘Oreshnik’ type with separate warheads.”

Outlook

The impending disbursement of the two-year EUR 90 billion EU loan (approximately $104 billion), slated for mid-June, provides welcome relief to the Ukrainian government as it ramps up preparations for winter. President Zelensky stated that at least EUR 30 billion ($34 billion) from this loan will be spent on direct budgetary support, which presumably also implies funds allocated for urgent repairs to critical energy infrastructure. However, Ukraine will be racing against time, as Russian attacks targeting the oil and gas sector, the electricity grid, electricity generation, and heat production will probably escalate to previously unseen levels as the heating season approaches.

With Russian combat operations effectively stalled due to the 10–15 km-wide drone-patrolled “kill zone” on both sides of the frontline, Putin’s options are limited. They could include another mobilization in the autumn, as suggested by the Russian MP Gurulev, but that would be deeply unpopular with the Russian public, which is already seething with anger from noticeably increased Ukrainian attacks deep inside Russia. Instead, chipping away at Ukraine’s critical energy infrastructure with massive drone and missile volleys presents a more palatable choice, one that is virtually guaranteed to yield tangible results both in terms of incapacitating Ukraine’s defense industry and exacerbating war fatigue among the population without incurring losses on the battlefield.

In such a context, the provision of interceptor missiles (particularly PAC-3s for Patriot batteries) for Ukraine’s air defenses via the Prioritized Ukraine Requirements List (PURL), a US-NATO procurement mechanism, becomes absolutely critical. But here again, the harmful impact of the Iran war is felt strongly as the US balances its priorities with Israel and Gulf allies in mind, stoking European concerns. In the absence of adequate American commitments, it will fall on Europe to make difficult trade-offs that will have to entail drawing down stocks of munitions in some countries.

Speaking at the European Parliament in January, NATO Secretary General Rutte urged member states that “are sitting on large piles of interceptors” to transfer them to Ukraine. Without robust air defense to protect the ongoing repairs to energy infrastructure, Ukraine is destined to face another grueling winter that could strain the war-ravaged country to the breaking point.

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About the Author:

Alex Melikishvili is a senior country risk analyst with more than a decade of experience working in the private sector (S&P Global, IHS Markit) with a focus on Eurasian security. Alex holds a master’s degree in International Affairs from the George Washington University’s Elliott School of International Affairs.

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By: Ray Wojcik and Sebastian Meitz

Poland has long been a model US and NATO ally. It should have a permanent US military presence.

In less than three weeks, Washington sent a series of confusing signals about its military posture toward two important allies in Central Europe: Germany and Poland. No serious observer questions the need to review the US strategic posture in Europe. The problem is the method observed in recent days, which has created confusion, uncertainty, and renewed doubts about the predictability of American assurances to some of its most loyal allies. Yet this moment also presents an opportunity: to move from a model in which America deploys rotational forces in and out of its most reliable eastern ally toward a permanent force presence, for permanent deterrence, against a permanent threat to NATO’s eastern flank.

The Confusion Over US Military Deployments in Germany and Poland

The sequence began with German Chancellor Friedrich Merz’s statement in April that the United States had been “humiliated” by Iran. Those words, part of the broader German tendency to criticize or distance itself from key policies of President Donald Trump’s administration, were followed by Washington’s announcement on May 2 that it planned to reduce its military presence in Germany by 5,000 troops, amid uncertainty over a previously planned deployment of precision missiles to Germany. Some in Poland saw this as an opening to strengthen the presence of US forces on NATO’s eastern flank. Then came the Pentagon’s announcement on May 13 that a planned rotation of an armored brigade to Poland would be halted. It came as a shock not only to Poland but also to many US officials and observers focused on European security.

The sequence and the comments from senior US officials created confusion among allies, legislators, and various elements of the defense establishment. It revealed the strategic reality in which Poland operates. Deterrence on the eastern flank cannot be maintained with abrupt changes and improvised explanations.

Even more concerning was that the canceled deployment concerns a region bordering Ukraine, where Russia’s full-scale invasion continues; Belarus, which continues hybrid attacks on Poland, and where Russian nuclear weapons are based; and Kaliningrad, where Russian strike forces include nuclear-capable systems. The discussion is therefore not only about troop numbers, although numbers matter. It is about predictability and the ability to rely on the key guarantor of deterrence in this part of the world: the United States.

The fact that the decision seemed to be made at the last minute, while advance elements were already deploying to Poland, created the impression of haste and pressure. Even if presented as part of a broader force posture review, the move stood in stark contradiction to repeated declarations from President Trump’s administration that Poland is a model ally: a nation that spends a higher percentage of GDP on defense than any other NATO member, is undertaking a massive modernization effort oriented on American war-fighting doctrine and equipment, and is willing to assume greater responsibility for regional security. This is exactly the kind of allied behavior the United States says it wants from Europe.

One should also not ignore the optics. First, the White House pressured Germany and told Berlin that it would withdraw US troops from its territory. Then, there was an open discussion about relocating American forces farther east. Finally, the most visible immediate effect was the suspension of the deployment of 4,000 US troops to Poland.

Germany remains a key component of the US military presence in Europe. Its role in logistics, infrastructure, air power, medical support, and command networks is significant. But one cannot deny that the political and military center of gravity of deterrence has moved east. The model of US forces heavily based in Germany made sense during the Cold War and for a different Europe. Today, Europe’s frontline runs from Finland to Bulgaria, and is anchored in the center by Poland. The question is not whether Germany matters, as it obviously does. The question is whether Germany should remain the default answer to America’s key basing questions in Europe today. It should not.

It is important to highlight that Poland is among the European countries least dependent on China and has consciously chosen to link itself strongly to the US defense industrial base. Meanwhile, China is heavily invested in Germany’s most strategic sectors: telecommunications, rail, and ports, including strategic rail networks and ports needed for allied reinforcement during crises and war.

Poland’s Centrality to the Defense of Eastern Europe

Poland stands in stark contrast to Germany. It is the most pro-American country in Europe, despite broader anti-American trends across the continent. Poland is a steadfast US and NATO ally and a state willing to assume increasing responsibility for the defense of the region. It is a leader in burden-sharing and has strengthened its position within NATO. This was recently underscored by NATO placing Poland in rotational command of Allied Joint Force Command Brunssum. Under President Karol Nawrocki, and despite the strongly pro-European orientation of Prime Minister Donald Tusk’s government, Poland is looking for ways to strengthen its importance to US strategy in Europe. This matters as Washington adjusts global priorities.

Poland already hosts key US capabilities, including two Army headquarters, equipment for an armored brigade, and ballistic missile defense. Under the US-Poland Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement, Poland provides significant funds for infrastructure upgrades to support US forces, which could reach $500 million in 2026, with projects including barracks, rail links, fuel storage, airbase upgrades, and reception infrastructure.

Of note, Poland’s support for US forces is significantly higher than Germany’s. Official government data shows that Warsaw’s annual support is roughly $15,000 per US soldier, bringing the cost of hosting a contingent of 10,000 troops to more than $150 million per year (on top of host-nation infrastructure spending). Washington should recognize this for what it is: burden-sharing with a key ally that fully understands its mission and “puts its money where its mouth is,” with increasing responsibilities. Moreover, Poland’s determination to provide such support to US forces is a clear signal of Warsaw’s commitment to America.

Permanent assignment of US forces to Poland is more effective, more credible, and less costly than the current rotational model. Permanent basing will turn episodic deployments into enduring combat power. Units will not lose time repeatedly relearning terrain, infrastructure, host-nation, and operating procedures. Instead, they will build “ready-to-fight-tonight” capabilities with coherent command relationships, prepositioned equipment, and logistics in place. The result will be higher readiness and faster decision cycles for Polish and American forces.

Because Moscow calculates risk differently, it is highly unlikely to test an ally when US units are visibly and permanently present rather than constantly cycling in and out. Permanent presence reduces recurring costs associated with transatlantic deployments, reception, onward integration, temporary basing, and repeated unit handovers.

The continuity of dedicated US military forces creates conditions for real military integration with the Polish Armed Forces. Instead of restarting relationships every nine months, US and Polish forces can move to new capability levels within US military doctrine: Joint All-Domain Operations (JADO). Moreover, Poland is NATO’s hub for lessons learned from Russia’s war on Ukraine, which will be incorporated into US-Poland JADO integration and help Poland transform into a near-peer US ally.

Another key element is human capital. Thousands of Polish officers have attended US training courses, and tens of thousands more Poles have served in combat operations shoulder-to-shoulder with Americans. Poland is rapidly modernizing with state-of-the-art US-interoperable systems: Abrams tanks, HIMARS precision rocket artillery, Javelin anti-tank systems, Patriot air and missile defense systems, fifth-generation F-35 fighters, Apache attack helicopters, and upgrades to its F-16 fleet (to name a few).

Clearly, Poland is in its own league as a host nation and is ready to raise its game to near-peer level alongside US forces. This is the strategic logic behind permanent presence, resulting in permanent integration of US and Polish forces. America needs an ally in Europe able to operate at the highest levels, as seen with the crucially important operational integration of US forces with Israeli and South Korean allies. Poland is ready, willing, and able to assume that role in Europe. Such a development will have a ripple effect across the region, and NATO, as other allies, mirror Poland.

The Case for a Permanent US Military Deployment in Poland

Permanently assigning US forces to Poland may seem counterintuitive to some, yet it is fully consistent with Washington’s own stated expectations toward allies. The United States expects allies not only to spend more on defense but also to assume greater responsibility for their own security and, by extension, for the security of their regions. Poland is not shrinking from this responsibility. On the contrary, by investing heavily in its own defense, resisting Chinese penetration, and accepting real strategic risk, Poland is responding precisely to what Washington has asked of Europe. America should capitalize on these trends in Poland, providing Poland with additional means not to replace its responsibility but to reinforce it. Poland’s leadership and military transformation will reduce the risk of a far more costly conflict and long-term American involvement.

Thus, America should permanently assign to Poland a force array centered on the full V Corps headquarters in Poznań, along with a heavy US Army division equipped with Abrams tanks, drone and counter-drone capabilities, and at least one—preferably more—F-35 fighter squadron. Such a posture will provide a standing command structure for the defense of NATO’s eastern flank, place credible armored combat power closer to the alliance’s most exposed front, and deepen crucial integration with Polish forces.

It will significantly strengthen deterrence against Russia and accelerate Poland’s emergence as a near-peer ally by integrating its rapidly modernizing military with US commands, doctrine, sustainment networks, and high-end combat capabilities. It will reinforce Poland’s evolution into America’s principal maintenance, repair, and overhaul hub in Europe. It will also make Poland an even more important ally in US defense-industrial cooperation and a key transatlantic defense supply-chain partner.

A permanently stationed heavy division will significantly shorten readiness timelines while F-35 squadrons will strengthen allied air dominance, intelligence collection, and rapid response across the Baltic-to-Black Sea corridor. Permanent US forces in Poland will also present unmatched opportunities to train at scale alongside NATO’s most capable frontline state, exercising and developing JADO, refining theater logistics. Importantly, this not only prepares Poland for high-level combat and fosters similar developments across the region, but also better prepares US forces for war, no matter where a future conflict may occur. Together, it will signal America’s enduring commitment, while rebooting conventional deterrence against Russia.

Some may argue that Warsaw just dodged a bullet because Washington has indicated it may increase military presence in Poland. But the key questions are not just about how many troops will be present. They are about ensuring the right mix of US forces is permanently, not rotationally, based in Poland. After the developments of the last three weeks, there is no better time to address these questions.

We have seen how quickly uncertainty spreads when troop decisions are abruptly announced, adjusted, clarified, and reversed. This is not an exaggerated Polish perception but a consequence of Poland being a frontline state, constantly pressured by Russia and its proxies, and living under the growing threat of further instability in the region. Warsaw, and by extension, many US allies, have seen that even a model ally can be treated as a variable unless it is embedded more deeply in American planning. There is no question that Moscow, always looking to exploit allied vulnerabilities, has also observed the developments of recent weeks.

The United States should follow its own strategic logic. It should move east and stay east. It should take advantage of generational developments in Poland, making Poland the permanent anchor of American deterrence on NATO’s front line. Poland has delivered what Washington has long demanded from Europe. It is time for America to make that reality permanent. That’s America and Poland First. If followed through on, this will become a cornerstone of America’s strategy of peace through strength.

About the Authors:

Ray Wojcik is a Senior Research Fellow at The Saratoga Foundation and a defense expert and consultant with the Kosciuszko Chain. Mr. Wojcik is the former director of the Warsaw office for the Center for European Policy Analysis. During three decades in the US Army, he served as a soldier, non-commissioned officer, and officer in aviation, intelligence, infantry, special operations, and as a foreign area officer.

Sebastian Meitz is an expert in defense and foreign policy at the Sobieski Institute. He held scholarships at Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität in Munich and the London School of Economics, and is an alumnus of the Leadership Academy for Poland and the European Academy of Diplomacy. He was affiliated with the Sobieski Institute in 2006–2007 and has been again since 2025.

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Hi everyone,

In light of repeated Russian drone intrusions into Romanian airspace in recent months, including an event last week, we would like to share a timely new policy paper: Russia’s Next Black Swan: Romania’s Câmpia Turzii Air Base. This paper was released as part of the New Strategy Centre’s annual Black Sea and Balkans Security Forum 2026, held in Bucharest from May 12-13. More than a dozen leading Black Sea security experts contributed to NSC’s new book: Black Swans in the Black Sea, which examined future scenarios for regional security.

Saratoga would like to extend its sincere thanks to NSC President and CEO George Scutaru, as well as LTG (Ret.) Ben Hodges, for the opportunity to join such a distinguished group of experts from across the Black Sea region.

To download the paper, please click here. For those pressed for time, here are some of the key takeaways from the book chapter:

Executive Summary:

The Rzeszów Precedent and the Russian Threat to NATO’s New Southern Logistical Hub to Ukraine

In September 2025, Russian drones blitzed many parts of Poland, specifically targeting NATO’s northern logistical hub at Rzeszów-Jasionka, known as RZE, as part of this attack. The Russian raid forced NATO to launch Operation Eastern Sentry, and a parallel “Black Swan” vulnerability is in danger of repeating itself along NATO’s Eastern Flank, targeting Romania’s Câmpia Turzii Air Base. In January 2026, Câmpia Turzii was announced as NATO’s new southern logistical hub for Ukraine, creating two logistical gateways - a northern and southern supply line corridor to wartime Ukraine.

In the past decade, Câmpia Turzii has emerged as a heavily modernized facility—backed by over $550 million in joint U.S. and Romanian investments—becoming NATO’s new southern logistical gateway to Ukraine, backed by the Prioritized Ukraine Requirements List (PURL) initiative by the United States. Due to its growing strategic importance, Câmpia Turzii stands to become a high-value target in Kremlin strategic planning, making it an inevitable focus of Russian probing operations or a potential asymmetric attack.

While Romania has historically shown restraint toward low-scale Russian drone incursions, Moscow’s proven use of complex, multi-type drone swarms in Poland demonstrates that Câmpia Turzii faces realistic, deep-penetration threats. Rather than viewing this facility purely as an inland sanctuary shielded by the Carpathian Mountains, NATO planners must look beyond Russia’s drone spillover flights into Romanian airspace from the Ukraine war and prepare for three distinct, non-traditional drone attack vectors.

The Three Vectors of a Potential Black Swan Event

A potential Russian drone blitz against Câmpia Turzii is uniquely dangerous because Moscow can exploit three distinct geographic and technical pathways, each presenting a different challenge to NATO’s Integrated Air and Missile Defense (IAMD) network in Romania:

1. The Saki Air Base (Crimean) Vector: A Russian drone strike launched from Saki Air Base in Crimea would span a total flight path of over 500 miles using Geran-2 drones, which would transit low over the Black Sea, enter Romanian airspace near the Danube Delta, and navigate the Carpathian Mountains via terrain-masking to evade ground-based sensors while avoiding the most heavily defended route located at Mihail Kogălniceanu (MK) Air Base. The Saki vector represents a direct, maritime stress test of Romania’s coastal air defense gauntlet.

2. The Tiraspol (Transnistrian) Vector: Câmpia Turzii is highly vulnerable to a short-range, asymmetric surprise attack from the former Soviet airbase at Tiraspol, located in Russian-occupied Transnistria, just 267 miles away. Mimicking Ukraine’s "Operation Spiderweb" and applying lessons from the 2025 Polish blitz, Moscow could use commercial trucks to covertly smuggle disassembled, low-signature “Geran-3” drones to launch an attack on Câmpia Turzii. This Black Swan vector would be explicitly designed to achieve tactical surprise and probe NATO and Romanian air defense networks, similar to the 2025 Russian drone attack on Poland.

3. The Belarusian Vector: This vector exploits a massive northern geographic loophole by launching drone swarms flying from inside Russia via Belarus, transiting through Western Ukraine’s less dense air defense zones to strike across the Carpathians and launch an attack on Câmpia Turzii. Such a threat could leverage Russian efforts to utilize Belarusian civilian mobile communication towers to act as radio beacons to reach Ukraine and strike the NATO supply node at Câmpia Turzii, similar to the Russian drone blitz over Poland last year.

Why These Vectors Matter

Any one of these scenarios could be leveraged as a Black Sea “Black Swan” to cause sudden tactical paralysis and a major public outcry in Romania, targeting one of NATO’s most important emerging supply nodes to Ukraine. Russian aims would be to force NATO to expend expensive interceptor missiles on cheap plywood mimics and decoys, allowing Moscow to conduct a “reconnaissance-by-fire” mission to map the exact electronic signatures and coordinates of the hub’s defense batteries.

Such an event could also bring about a change in government in Bucharest, similar to the recent downfall of the Latvian government, creating a domestic crisis inside a major NATO ally. If Bucharest fails to adjust its passive rules of engagement based on these multi-vector threats, Câmpia Turzii risks becoming a site of symbolic and operational success for Russia in the Black Sea.

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