As many military historians have noted, the Ukraine war is likely to end at the negotiating table, and Kyiv may have to make painful concessions in the short-term realize its long-term aim of joining NATO. Ukraine may already be territorially divided as war correspondent Owen Matthews notes in The Spectator, but the fatalism about its demarcation lines is entirely the creation of Western leaders. The fear of escalation with Russia still weighs heavily on the minds of Chancellor Scholz of Germany, President Biden, and others, despite many of Moscow’s supposed red lines being crossed without any retaliation. Ukraine’s Western allies are providing enough military kit to ensure that Ukraine doesn’t lose the war but not enough to ensure its victory. Victory remains far off, fragile, and even scary to some, with the prospect of a defeated Russia even more frightening than a victorious one.

Whereas Harris is likely to endorse a Ukrainian-led peace proposal, the Vance and Trump peace plan for Ukraine amounts to a near capitulation to Putin, denying Ukraine the right to its sovereign territory and NATO membership aspirations. The more strategic minded who support Trump like former Pentagon official Elbridge Colby view this approach as a return to pragmatic realism in international relations, not abandoning Ukraine, but being clear-eyed as to the course of the present conflict and what Ukraine is able to accomplish. However, there is a thin line between realism and appeasement in global politics, viewing the world as it is and your allies not as they can be, but as they currently are and historically have been constrained by greater powers. Ukraine is in exactly this predicament today, proving to the world that its fight is valiant and worth contributing to, while remaining hobbled by Cold War and post-Soviet era tropes of great power relations that continue to define too many strategic issues in the 21^st century.

As the UN General Assembly recently revealed, it is clear that members of the Global South, under the sway of Russia and China and with considerable influence from Brazil and South Africa, hold incredible clout when it comes to the potential peace process in Ukraine. Since Moscow’s full-scale invasion, Berlin’s influence on any peace settlement, let alone its strength within Europe, has arguably weakened while Brasilia’s has only increased. The West has held together much longer than most anticipated, but its weakness is that it does not have a strong core but a selectively strong periphery stretching from Washington to London and Warsaw, occasionally including Paris but almost never Berlin. The China-Brazil proposal for peace negotiations is likely to continue to gain traction, including from some NATO member states, and may be worthy of Zelenskyy’s consideration sooner rather than later. Rutte, just like his predecessor Stoltenberg, will continue to advocate for a Ukrainian-led rather than a Chinese-led peace initiative, but there are many variables at play, not least of which is the outcome of the US presidential election and the state of Ukraine after another long winter of punishing strikes on its critical infrastructure. It may have taken Moscow nine months and the loss of 10,000 men to capture Avdiivka, a city with a pre-invasion population of 31,000, but Russia, despite its many failures, still has the upper hand.

There are hard choices ahead for Ukraine and its Western allies in balancing what is realistic vs. what is idealistic for Ukraine, principally on questions of NATO membership, military aid, and the restoration of its sovereign territory. Washington can either release all restrictions on the use of its weaponry to strike military targets deep inside Russia, or it can continue on pursue an ad-hoc, battle-by-battle approach that unnecessarily delays Ukraine’s victory and plays into Putin’s hands by signaling fear of his red lines. The will of the Ukrainian people and the basic fact of geography remains, however. Ukraine’s future, as it always has been, is in Europe, not the Eurasian heartland contested by empires over a century ago but as a 21^st century extension of Milan Kundera’s famous ‘kidnapped West.’ The border of the West keeps moving eastwards, and Ukraine will break free from Kundera’s paradigm by being both culturally and politically in the West, rather than having the two isolated by an invisible boundary that is ripe for exploitation by revanchist powers.

There remains a strong urge for Ukraine’s victory to be decisive and swift, but it is more likely to be prolonged and piecemeal. This perspective can help bring Ukraine to the negotiating table from a position of strength, keeping the long-term goal of the full restoration of its territories but allowing for compromise in the short-term when needed. The one immovable quality that Ukraine cannot compromise on, or change is its geography and the burdens of the past. One dictates a European future while the other allows for a more complex geostrategic outlook to ensure that future’s arrival. Thus, the ultimate route to Brussels may wind through Brasilia and Beijing, not to the detriment of Europe and a European identity for Ukraine, but to strengthen Ukraine’s alliances and weaken its vulnerabilities.

The outcome of the US election will also signal to Kyiv and the wider world whether Washington can be a trustworthy partner capable of upholding its global commitments. Dynamic relationships between the United States and democracies like India and Brazil, in addition to those with other NATO member states, can help drive better outcomes for Ukraine. For Ukraine’s cause is global and anti-imperial, less of a battle between autocracy and democracy and more of a fundamental right for freedom and autonomy against oppressive and neo-imperial subjugation. This lens, with the right political stewards at the helm, can help guide the West and the Global South to a Ukrainian victory that is mutually beneficial and non-threatening, even aspirational. Ukraine’s deftness in threading this needle is what will ensure its victory, proving to much larger and established powers in the West that the geostrategic outlook worth emulating lies in Kyiv.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author(s) alone and do not necessarily reflect those of Geopoliticalmonitor.com.

The post Ukraine’s Future in the Balance as US Election Looms appeared first on Geopolitical Monitor.

• Hypersonic weapons are presented as a military game-changer, with programs appearing in defense budgets around the world.
• The first battlefield deployments of hypersonic weapons have failed to live up to the hype in the Ukraine war.
• Skeptics question what the platform brings to the table in terms of new operational capacities. 

Hypersonic weapons have long been regarded as a game changer in global military affairs, a platform that could render missile countermeasures ineffective and tilt the tactical balance in favor of offense.

The ‘hypersonic’ label refers to a missile’s ability to reach speeds greater than Mach 5 (five times the speed of sound). However, given that there are non-hypersonic ballistic missiles that can also exceed these speeds, some have cited in-flight maneuverability as another determining feature.

Boasting high speeds, maneuverability, and most importantly, a hypothetical ability to evade legacy missile defense systems, hypersonic weapons represent a significant advance in military technology: they can strike quickly and accurately from great distances and are nearly impossible to intercept. And critically, since they can be equipped with nuclear payloads, hypersonic weapons have the potential to destabilize nuclear deterrence equilibriums by neutralizing existing countermeasures and reducing response times.

Initially, the United States, Russia, and the People’s Republic of China (PRC) were the only states to develop hypersonic programs. However, hypersonic weapons are now proliferating around the globe: Iran and even the Houthis in Yemen claim to possess them; Turkey is testing a Bayraktar-developed model and Japan is developing two platforms; Australia has begun joint production of hypersonic missiles with the United States; and Japan and the United States have come together to co-develop a new generation of defensive countermeasures.

There are several types of hypersonic weapons, including hypersonic glide vehicles (HGVs), hypersonic cruise missiles (HCMs), and aero-ballistic missiles, all of which can be launched from air, ground, or naval platforms.

HGVs are launched atop conventional ballistic missiles and released at high altitudes. They re-enter the atmosphere and glide toward their target at hypersonic speeds (over Mach 5), performing evasive maneuvers during flight designed to thwart missile defense systems. It is this maneuverability during re-entry that sets HGVs apart from conventional ballistic reentry vehicles; moreover, their lower flight path vis-à-vis conventional missiles pushes back radar detection and shrinks the window of opportunity for interdiction.

Hypersonic cruise missiles (HCMs) are powered by advanced propulsion systems, such as scramjets, which enable them to maintain hypersonic speeds throughout their flight. They typically fly at higher altitudes compared to hypersonic glide vehicles and follow more traditional missile flight paths, allowing for easier detection by radar systems. However, HCMs are able to reach extremely high speeds; this combined with their ability to vary altitude and trajectory during flight make them extremely difficult to intercept.

Russia’s Hypersonic Weapons Program

Russia originally accelerated its hypersonic weapons development in response to US missile defense advancements and the US withdrawal from the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty in 2001. President Putin has emphasized the need for these weapons to maintain Russia’s nuclear deterrent capabilities against growing US defense capabilities. Russia conducts tests at the Central Aero-Hydrodynamic Institute in Zhukovsky and the Khristianovich Institute of Theoretical and Applied Mechanics in Novosibirsk, among others, with testing sites at Dombarovskiy Air Base, Baykonur Cosmodrome, and the Kura Range.

Russia is currently developing at least three new hypersonic weapons: the Avangard, Tsirkon (or Zircon), and Kinzhal.

The Avangard is a hypersonic glide vehicle capable of speeds in excess of Mach 20, with a range of 6,500 miles. It was put into operation as early as 2019 on the SS-19 Mod 4 and is the only strategic-range hypersonic glide vehicle currently in deployment. It will transition to the SS-X-30 (RS-28 Sarmat), which can carry up to three Avangard HGVs, each with a yield of up to two megatons.

The post Hypersonic Weapons: Paradigm Shift or Empty Hype? appeared first on Geopolitical Monitor.

Eastern European Plain as the Heartland’s Ring of Power

The geopolitical importance of the Heartland lies in the geographical conditions which provide advantages to any power controlling it. In 1904, Mackinder defined the Heartland as territories over the basins of all rivers whose waters drain either into the hardly navigable Arctic Ocean or into land-locked salt lakes, thus being immune from any potential naval invasion. Effectively, the Heartland encompasses lands to the north from the central Asiatic desserts, between imaginary lines from the Himalayas mountains northeast through the Gobi Desert, and from the Zagros Mountains through the Caucasus in the northwestern direction almost to the Gulf of Finland. The steppes of the “Great Lowland” stretch unobstructed from Manchuria in the East to Central Europe in the West, offering high land mobility, employing horses in the past and railways in the present. Mongols were not the first to exploit this geographical advantage, but they were the first organizers who emerged from the Heartland and attacked all sides into the inner crescent and, in the 13th century, hammered out the largest (to date) land empire.

Mackinder highlighted the huge economic potential of those vast spaces in terms of wheat to grow, ores to mine and fuel to extract, sufficient to organize large-scale industries and formidable manpower. These Heartland opportunities were eventually exploited by the Russian Empire, which replaced the Mongolian, and was later resurrected as the Soviet Union. In 1943, Mackinder reaffirmed the validity of all his previous assessments, concluding that the Heartland is “the greatest natural fortress on earth,” being itself able to attack in any direction.

Eastern Europe has always been a geopolitical gateway, whose control is of significant consequence. Mongols, vanquishing as deep westward as the Danube River, and other nomads before them, prompted local inhabitants either to fight, flee, or collaborate, and states of the day to react or fall under pressure of invasion. The Russian Empire occupied peninsular Europe as deep as Finland, Poland, and Romania, threatening the Ottoman’s hold of Asia Minor and attaining great influence over the Southern Slavs in the Balkans in the 19th century. Geopolitical rivalry in the latter region, between the German powers of Prussia and Austria in the central lands of Europe and the Russian Empire, eventually ignited the First World War. Germans aimed to take control over economic and manpower core of the Heartland, which, according to Mackinder, laid within the East European ring of the Black and Baltic Seas and the Volga River. In this period Mackinder extended his definition of Heartland to the Balkans and Berlin, arguing that the potential military seizure of Constantinople or Copenhagen respectively would block access to the Atlantic Ocean and render the Black or Baltic Seas effectively isolated. The Second World War was started in Europe by Berlin and Moscow, an alliance against which Mackinder warned in 1904 as the one bringing into sight “the empire of the world.” Nevertheless, Nazi Germany, driven by its geostrategy of “organic” growth, attacked the Soviet Union to gain additional “living space” by cleansing the East European plain from its non-German tenants. In the aftermath of that war, the Soviet Heartland regained control of the gateway into peninsular Europe and through it once again expanded to the Danube River and Berlin.

Mackinder’s Misconception about Russia

An important historical flaw in Mackinder’s East European argument, aggravated by the ongoing Russo-Ukrainian war, was the consideration of the lands between the Black and Baltic Seas as well as its inhabitants as Russian, while they were merely being occupied by the power from the Heartland. “The real Russia…”, Mackinder writes in 1919, “the homeland of the Russian people, lies wholly… between the Volga and the Carpathians and between the Baltic and Black Seas.”

This misconception begins with a blind trust in the claim that Russia is somehow an heir to the powerful state of the 9th-13th centuries – Kyivan Rus’, which governed lands from the Gulf of Finland to the Black Sea. The state, which took shape around Moscow, namely Muscovy, under Mongolian rule and influence, had distinctively different political, civil, and military institutions from its European neighbors, medieval Kyivan Rus’ or even Byzantium. Muscovites’ government style was characteristically despotic, in contrast to their strongly parliamentarian western neighboring states, whom they set to conquer as soon as Muscovy gained independence in the 15th century. At the same time, Kyivan legal and administrative traditions were first preserved in its western principalities, which became the Kingdom of Ruthenia (Latin for Rus’) in the 13th century, and later adopted by Baltic Lithuania, which took over most of the Kyivan lands down to the Black Sea from Mongols in the 14th century. Ruthenian language, spoken by the common folk in those lands, Snyder concludes, morphed into Ukrainian.

By the beginning of the 18th century, Muscovy gradually subjugated peoples and states between the Gulf of Finland and the Black Sea. To legitimize their rule, Muscovites took a new aggrandized name, corrupted from the learned history of annexed Kyiv – the Russian Empire. After the First World War, Poles and Balts, among others, in line with Mackinder’s advocacy for the buffer tier of independent states between Russia and Germany, re-established their nation-states, even if only for two decades. Ukrainians, unfortunately, were of lower priority to Western allies at that time. To Russian Bolsheviks, on the contrary, Ukraine held pivotal economic and manpower potential without which efforts to reforge an empire were futile. Eventually, after four years of defending their Republic, the Ukrainian people’s resistance crumbled unaided under brutal Russian invasion. Nevertheless, with the end of the Cold War, by 1991 Russia lost its grip over the lands and non-Russian peoples of Eastern Europe, who ultimately regained independence and internationally recognized sovereignty over their state borders.

Ukraine Remains the Key

Three decades later, Russo-Ukrainian war is a new manifestation of an aggressive power from the Heartland into peninsular Europe. Russians started their invasion of Ukraine in 2014 where they held military opportunity – from its leased military base in Sevastopol into Crimea, annexing it, and where geography historically proved a vulnerability – from Mackinder’s eastern steppes into Donbas. Despite the overwhelming superiority of the naval fleet at the beginning of the full-scale invasion, by 2024 Moscow had lost its dominance in the Black Sea to Ukrainian unconventional military techniques, among which has been a highly effective use of drone warfare.

The more territories Moscow is allowed to seize – the thinner, if any, a buffer zone between the mobilized Heartland and Western allies will remain in the gates of Europe; if the whole of Ukraine’s Black Sea shore is seized, Russia will strengthen its naval power there and will directly threaten the southern European flank.

On top of lands, the occupation of Ukraine aims to replenish and strengthen military and labor manpower, Mackinder’s second condition, to facilitate Russia’s further expansion. Ukrainian Cossacks, upon their partial subordination to the Muscovy’s command in the second half of the 17th century, enabled Muscovites to expand their empire in the 18th and 19th centuries, as Mackinder acknowledged Cossacks’ high-mobility role as far as “at the gates of Indies.” Ukrainians were over-represented within the Soviet army and among partisans who halted and then defeated the German invasion. Absorbing Ukraine again, Moscow would increase its manpower by a few dozen million, while murdering or deporting ‘unreliable’ and resisting Ukrainians. There is plenty of evidence that Russia has already accelerated this process in currently occupied territories, cleansing the lands of Ukrainians, re-educating the youth, absorbing collaborators, and intimidating those vulnerable into labor and even armed forces.

Finally, what Moscow seeks in Ukraine is rich natural and industrial resources. Even though Mackinder foresaw the largest agricultural potential in the steppes of the Heartland and reported globally the largest foodstuff production in 1938 from Russia, he overlooked that the main source of that has always been the lands of the Ukrainian people. Large Soviet agricultural exports and industrial development came at the cost of several millions of people, mainly from Ukraine, intentionally starved to death, deprived of possessions, and deported to labor camps. In 2021, the year before the most recent full-scale invasion, 63% of the world’s sunflower seeds and oil were exported from Ukraine. While ranking fourth in wheat and meslin, exports from Ukraine in terms of territory is unmatched. The total worth of mineral and energy wealth that Russia is stealing counts in the dozens of trillion dollars. The value of Ukraine’s economic, industrial, and manpower resources recalls Brzezinski’s warning in 1994 that “with Ukraine suborned and then subordinated, Russia automatically becomes an empire.”

The Russian World and the Heartland are Boiling

Following Mackinder’s theory, Russia’s expansionist ambitions are not limited to Ukraine, but stretch as far as those are tolerated by the world. As of March 2024, this has also become the public warning of the president of the United States. Conversely, the president and the elites of the Russian Federation call it “Russophobia,” which, according to Kremlin, has become “an official Western ideology.” At the same time, Putin’s catchphrase that “Russia’s borders do not end anywhere” has been publicly promoted, officially endorsed and weaponized by Russians in wars against foreign states, both conventional and informational. Putin and the Russian Orthodox Church call this concept the Russian World (Russkiy Mir in Russian), which transcends any borders and assumes anyone who speaks Russian language, shares Russian values, or praises Russian culture. Expansion of the Russian World, reserving the right to “take enforcement actions… against foreign states and citizens” in protection and support of Russian compatriots living abroad, has been officially entrenched in Russia’s latest foreign policy. Mackinder’s original observation that “German Kultur has gone wherever the German language has given it entry” has transformed into “first comes Russian ballet then come Russian tanks.” In the Road to Unfreedom, historian Timothy Snyder explains how Russian subversive meddling in the internal affairs of other states paved the road for invading Russian soldiers. Allegations of the oppression of Russian speakers in the neighboring countries and discussions of “protective” military operations there, threats of nuclear attacks at wider European and American cities, intense destabilization and disinformation campaigns, and incitement to war crimes and genocide of other peoples have become a routine public rhetoric from state media and government officials in Russia over the last years. Under these circumstances, the term Russophobia is rather strategically used by the Russian Federation to claim victimhood while conducting a war of aggression, which, according to Snyder, “is historically typical behavior” of an empire attempting to justify its crimes.

Russia’s European neighbors are either already fighting an invasion or arming up in preparation of defense. While Moscow is presently expanding its military material and manpower resources, the Baltic states actively strengthen their defense lines along their eastern borders while civilians sign up for defense units and training to prepare themselves. Poland has more than doubled military capacity since Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine, in an anticipation of further aggression. Polish leadership does not consider its actions irrational, which Russophobia implies, especially in the environment of near daily threats of “nuclear annihilation.” Finland, along with Sweden, has formally abandoned its historical non-alignment position, boosted its defense industry, and closed more than 1,300km of its eastern border indefinitely. For Russia’s neighbors, Mackinder’s view of geopolitics is not some academic theory of outdated British geostrategy, but a very real and centuries-long struggle that is full of horrors. People in those states, building on their historic experience, “understand Russia deeply and instinctively, see and smell what others do not.”

To weaken the world’s resistance to its aggressive expansion, the current power in the Heartland allies itself with like-minded autocracies. Mackinder was concerned with the perpetual threat from the Heartland organized solely or by an alliance of powers, especially with an added frontage of the navigable ocean. At the dawn of the 21st century, Colin Gray argued that Mackinder’s geopolitical theory has been proven accurate to date and predicted that in a couple of decades, China might become powerful enough to compensate for Russia’s perceived or real weakness, allowing them to together threaten the post-Cold War world order. Exactly two decades since, Russia’s obvious military cooperation with Iran in the Heartland, combined with its “no limits” strategic partnership with China of the inner crescent, menacingly resembles the Tripartite Pact of the 1940s. For the world’s freedom, Ukraine has become its land line of defense in Europe. Taking into consideration the war in Gaza and brewing broader conflict in the Middle East, the Taiwan Strait is the only rim remaining in the inner crescents separating the world from a new global war.

In conclusion, much like a century ago and despite technological innovations in warfare, Mackinder’s geopolitical theory about the perpetual threat from the Heartland still resonates. Mackinder warned statesmen that one “who rules East Europe commands the Heartland; [one] who rules the Heartland commands the World-island; and [one] who rules the World-Island commands the World.” With growing calls for appeasement, urging Ukraine and her friends to negotiate with Russia, the importance of these enduring truths cannot be overstated. The Russian invasion of Ukraine reflects geostrategic goals of territorial expansion into peninsular Europe and control over the Black Sea, as well as replenishment of economic means and manpower through the wealth appropriation and cleansing of the independent and sovereign Ukrainian state. The war’s progress and outcome are already serving as a precedent for Russia’s like-minded autocratic partners, such as Iran and, potentially, China, who, learning from the global reaction to the Russian invasion of Ukraine, will decide on its own geostrategic moves. The longer Russia remains undefeated, the higher the chance that these simmering regional wars will spiral into a new and disastrous global conflict.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author(s) alone and do not necessarily reflect those of Geopoliticalmonitor.com.

The post The Russo-Ukrainian War and Mackinder’s Heartland Thesis appeared first on Geopolitical Monitor.

The growth of Türkiye’s defense industry is a crucial element of its national security strategy. By reducing reliance on foreign suppliers and boosting domestic production, Türkiye aims to enhance its strategic autonomy and project power beyond its borders. This burgeoning sector is a cornerstone of Ankara’s foreign policy, allowing it to forge new alliances and strengthen its geopolitical influence.

Historical Background

During the Ottoman period, military production was limited and heavily reliant on foreign suppliers. This dependency continued into the early years of Ataturk and the Turkish Republic. A turning point in Türkiye’s defense industrialization came in 1974 when the United States imposed an arms embargo in response to Türkiye’s military intervention in Cyprus. The embargo exposed the inherent vulnerabilities of Türkiye’s reliance on foreign military suppliers, and ultimately it served as a catalyst for Türkiye to pursue self-sufficiency in defense production. During the late 1970s and 1980s, Türkiye focused on building its own capabilities, especially in critical areas like aviation and armored vehicles. The 1985 establishment of the Undersecretariat for Defense Industries (presently known as the Defense Industry Agency) was a significant step towards organizing and directing defense procurement and production.

The 21^st century has marked a period of significant growth and transformation for Türkiye’s defense industry, driven largely by the policies of the Justice and Development Party (AKP) under Recep Tayyip Erdoğan. The government’s continued emphasis on reducing dependency on foreign suppliers led to a surge in investment and domestic production capabilities.

Another significant milestone is the recent development of Türkiye’s Kaan fighter jet, which successfully completed its maiden test flight earlier this year. The Kaan represents Türkiye’s ambition to join the elite group of nations capable of producing fifth-generation fighter jets. Although the features of the Kaan fall short in comparison to the likes of the F-35 (US), J-20 (China), or Su-57 (Russia), the aircraft still fills a vital niche for political acceptance and fiscal considerations of non-aligned countries.

Economic and Technical Aspects of Türkiye’s Defense Industry

Türkiye’s defense industry has seen significant advancements in various product categories, including drones, armored vehicles, and naval platforms. Among these, drones have garnered the most international attention, particularly the Bayraktar TB2. This medium-altitude, long-endurance unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV) has proven to be a game-changer in modern warfare, utilized effectively in conflicts in Syria, Libya, and Nagorno-Karabakh, where Azerbaijan’s victory was shaped by drone warfare. The TB2’s success lies in its advanced technology, combined with its cost-effectiveness. The drone is offered at a competitive price point, relative to its NATO counterparts, and without compromising on quality, making it an attractive option for countries with limited defense budgets. In addition to UAVs, Türkiye has made strides in developing armored vehicles such as the Altay main battle tank and the Otokar ARMA wheeled armored vehicle.

Whereas countries like the United States, United Kingdom, and France often bundle arms sales with political conditions, Türkiye opts for a realpolitik approach. This strategy includes fewer restrictions and more favorable terms for technology transfer and joint production. For instance, Türkiye has established several co-production agreements with countries like Qatar and Azerbaijan, allowing for localized manufacturing and assembly of Turkish defense tech. This approach not only enhances the technological capabilities of partner countries but also strengthens bilateral ties and opens new markets for Turkish defense firms to engage in joint ventures and secure additional contracts.

Türkiye’s Defense Exports and Foreign Policy

The focus on indigenizing defense production has been a cornerstone of Türkiye’s defense policy, enabling it to operate independently from traditional Western allies when necessary. Türkiye’s defense exports have captured market share among most of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) countries and the Horn of Africa.

In the GCC, Türkiye has established strong defense ties with countries like Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and the United Arab Emirates (UAE). These relationships have been solidified through significant defense contracts, such as Saudi Arabia’s $3 billion purchase of unmanned combat aerial vehicles (UCAVs) last year, which marked the largest defense export deal in Türkiye’s history. The deal stands as another example of Türkiye’s willingness to accept stipulations for technology transfer and joint production.

The Horn of Africa has also emerged as a critical region for Turkish defense exports. Türkiye’s involvement in Somalia, where Ankara has established its largest overseas military base, exemplifies its strategy of using defense exports to enhance security cooperation with Somali forces. This presence allows Türkiye to influence regional security dynamics and project its power across the Red Sea and into the Indian Ocean. The strategic importance of these regions for Türkiye lies in geopolitics, particularly their access to maritime routes, along with potential opportunities for Turkish companies in African markets.

Türkiye’s approach to defense diplomacy also reflects its pursuit of a more independent foreign policy. By diversifying its defense partnerships and reducing reliance on traditional Western allies, Türkiye can navigate complex international relations with greater autonomy. This independence is crucial, especially considering past tensions with NATO allies over issues like Türkiye’s controversial purchase of the Russian S-400 missile system and its exclusion from the F-35 program. These developments underscore Türkiye’s strategic pivot towards a more self-reliant defense posture, leveraging its defense industry to achieve broader national and foreign policy goals outside of the framework offered by NATO.

Prospects and Challenges

Türkiye’s comparative advantages, such as cost-effective production and high-quality performance, are key drivers of the record-level growth in its defense industry. The country’s emphasis on indigenizing its defense industry has reduced costs and allowed for competitive pricing in the global arms market.

Moreover, Türkiye’s independent foreign policy stance, which often diverges from traditional Western and fellow NATO allies, enables it to engage with a broader range of countries, including those under international sanctions or in politically sensitive regions. This flexibility has positioned Türkiye as a preferred partner for countries seeking advanced military technology without the conditions often imposed by Western suppliers.

As Türkiye continues to innovate and expand its product offerings, it is likely to capture an even larger share of the global arms market, particularly in its niche of the wealthy GCC countries and lower to upper middle-income countries across Asia and Africa.

Yet despite this positive trajectory, Türkiye’s defense industry still faces challenges. International sanctions, particularly those from Western nations, can pose significant hurdles. For instance, Türkiye’s defense industry still relies on several foreign-made components for certain high-tech systems, which can be a vulnerability in times of geopolitical tension or supply chain disruptions. An additional challenge comes from competition with other emerging arms exporters, such as Iran. Both Türkiye and Iran are increasingly active in proxy conflicts, often supporting opposing sides.

The post Türkiye’s Defense Industry Emerges as a Global Player appeared first on Geopolitical Monitor.

Amidst this evolving strategic environment, non-state actors such as the Houthi rebels in Yemen and smaller island states in the Indian Ocean, such as the Maldives, are also emerging as important actors in their own right. Sharpening great power competition is bringing non-state actors and smaller states into play and is granting them greater agency in Indian Ocean geopolitics. The Iran-supported Houthi rebels offer a good example of this trend. Owing to Israel’s war in Gaza, the Houthis have attacked global shipping linked with Israel passing through the Red Sea and Gulf of Aden. These Houthi attacks have disrupted global shipping and the wider global economy as well. The disruption was so significant that the United States, Britain, and India launched naval operations to protect their supply lines. Interestingly, up until now China has been a notable exception here, as the PLA Navy has stayed away from the Red Sea.

In the context of geopolitical flux, one must consider the expanding strategic presence of Russia and China in the Indian Ocean, which is both a cause and consequence of fluid Indian Ocean geopolitics. Looking ahead, there’s a real possibility that both powers act in concert to challenge the current balance of power.

Joint Naval Exercises in the Indian Ocean

Both the Russian Navy and PLA Navy have been expanding their presence in the Indian Ocean in recent years, and they have routinely carried out joint naval exercises. In 2023, China conducted naval exercises with Pakistan while the Russian Navy conducted exercises with Myanmar and Bangladesh. In March of this year, Russia, China, and Iran carried out naval exercises in the Gulf of Oman – the sixth time that these three countries carried out such exercises in as many years. Countries as diverse as Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, India, Oman, Pakistan, and South Africa dispatched naval representatives to the exercises. As per TASS, “more than 20 combat ships, support vessels, and gunboats from the Russian, Iranian, and Chinese navies participated in the exercises.” The stated purpose of the drills was “to practice measures for ensuring the safety of maritime economic activity.” However, it is clear that the exercises are aimed at increasing strategic co-ordination and sending a message to the West.

Russia and China have also engaged with fellow BRICS member South Africa in naval exercise diplomacy. The last time Russia, China, and South Africa drilled together was in February 2023, the second time that the three countries joined hands for naval exercises. The timing of those maneuvers was interesting as the exercises coincided with the first anniversary of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Thus, the exercises represented a clear strategic signal to the West. In defending its move, Pretoria said that “South Africa is not abandoning its neutral position on the Ukraine war. We remain firm in our view that multilateralism and dialogue are keys to unlock sustainable international peace,” adding that South Africa “continues to urge both parties to engage in dialogue as a solution to the current conflict.” More interesting is the fact that South Africa refused to exercise with the US Navy and decided to exercise with Russia and China instead.

These naval drills indicate the growing presence and interest of Russia and China in the Western Indian Ocean.

In Search of an Indian Ocean Military Base

Russia and China have sought to strengthen their Indian Ocean presence by establishing forward military bases in the region. China has established a base at Djibouti in 2017 and has been eyeing (and perhaps even been covertly using) Gwadar Port in Pakistan as a naval base. In 2022, China gained access to the Ream naval base in Cambodia. As per the US Department of Defense 2023 report, China has considered following countries for potential basing arrangements: Myanmar, Thailand, Indonesia, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, United Arab Emirates, Kenya, Equatorial Guinea, Seychelles, Tanzania, Angola, Nigeria, Namibia, Mozambique, Bangladesh, Papua New Guinea, Solomon Islands, and Tajikistan (covered in a recent report).

Of these, with the exception of Equatorial Guinea, Angola, Namibia, Papua New Guinea, Solomon Islands, and Tajikistan, all other possibilities are located in the Indian Ocean. It is notable that despite having a military base at Djibouti, other East and Southern African countries like Kenya, Tanzania, Mozambique, and Seychelles figure into China’s calculations for the establishment of future military bases. Most of these countries already have a deep Chinese economic footprint which will complement Beijing’s strategic outreach. It is well-known that at any time, three to six PLA Navy warships are operating in the Indian Ocean. The regular presence of the survey vessels and spy ships is also a reality. Therefore, from the Chinese point of view, another military base may be useful to help its expanding naval footprint in the region.

For Russia, an agreement with Sudan for a facility at Port Sudan holds out the prospect of a military base with access to the Indian Ocean. The base in Sudan would have complemented the existing naval base at Tartus in Syria and would have strengthened Russia’s presence in the wider Middle East and WIO. However, the disastrous Sudan civil war between the Rapid Support Force (RSF) and the Sudanese army has complicated these efforts.

For Moscow, strategic imperatives along the Western and northern peripheries are obviously more important; developments in the Arctic, Baltic, and Black Seas matter deeply for Russian security. Meanwhile, economic costs and military demands stemming from the Ukraine war, along with sharpening rivalry with NATO in Europe, are together serving to limit Russia’s ability to acquire and maintain a military base in the Indian Ocean – a theater far removed from Russia’s immediate backyard. However, the expansion of strategic presence in the form of naval exercises, port visits, deployments of private military contractors like the Wagner Group, defense exports, and politico-military agreements will continue to be a preferred method of engagement for Moscow. Hence, the joint naval exercises with China and Iran are significant strategic markers for Russia.

China-Russia Collaboration in the Indian Ocean Region

China and Russia have built a ‘no-limits’ partnership and have drawn closer to each other since the Russian invasion of Ukraine. In the context of the imposition of severe Western sanctions, so far, China’s support has been critical for Russia’s military operations and economic well-being. The close strategic partnership that Russia and China have built may perhaps manifest itself in Indian Ocean geopolitics as well. China and Russia have a shared interest in undermining Western influence, and they have a willing partner in Iran as well. Since 2022, Iran has been moving closer to Russia and China. Regular joint naval exercises and exports of weapons platforms are just one example of their increasing strategic convergence.

Expanded influence along with the growing strategic presence of China and Russia could hypothetically be deployed in the future to counter the Western influence in the Indian Ocean Region. There are enough fault lines and trouble spots in the IOR that can be exploited by either of these powers. For example, the domestic politics of certain IOR countries could become an arena for great power competition. The Maldives is a recent case in point, but it won’t be the last. Russia and China have also thrown their support behind the Comorian president, Azali Assoumani. The integrity of the 2024 Comorian elections and Assoumani’s controversial fourth bid were criticized by the United States. This West versus China and Russia competition is set to intensify over issues of democracy and human rights in the governance of Indian Ocean states. Will the West adjust its posture and prioritize strategic influence over liberal values? Or will it continue to frame the strategic competition in ideological terms?

As is usually the case in history, there will be many regional states who will be willing to engage with China and Russia over the West for their own benefit. The possibility of garnering more benefits can push states toward Russia and China and undercut Western influence in the region. Western relations with Central Africa offer a vivid illustration of the process, as French influence was eroded by Russia’s presence in the security and extractive sectors of various Sahel states. Many countries will be willing to play the West against China and/or Russia. This is likely to open newer opportunities and perhaps even challenges for China and Russia. But one thing remains certain: Indian Ocean geopolitics will only become more fluid and complicated going forward.

Sankalp Gurjar is the author of Superpowers’ Playground: Djibouti and the Geopolitics of the Indo-Pacific in the 21st century. He writes on India foreign policy, Asian security, and Indo-Pacific geopolitics.

The post Great Power Competition Redux: China, Russia, and Indian Ocean Geopolitics appeared first on Geopolitical Monitor.

Western export restrictions and domestic curbs on imports and dollar transactions have combined to produce shortages of critical goods and technologies in Russia since the launch of the Ukraine war. With much of Russia’s domestic manufacturing redirected toward military production, the demand for imports has risen. In response, China, Russia’s largest trading partner, accounting for a third of its foreign trade in 2023, has stepped in to provide essential industrial equipment and consumer goods, while also offering export markets for Russian oil, gas, agricultural products, and metals. For example, after nearly all Western automakers left Russia, Chinese auto exports to surged 593% between 2022 and 2023, accounting for as much as 15% of China’s total auto exports. Truck exports alone increased 700% in 2023.

Western sanctions have largely cut off Russia’s access to dollars, and countries like China are unwilling to accept rubles due to their lack of convertibility and usability. This has prompted Russia to increasingly use the yuan for trade settlements. The approach worked well during the first two years of the Ukraine war, but Chinese banks are now growing cautious about secondary sanctions from the United States and other Western nations for aiding Russia. Consequently, tens of billions in payments to Russian suppliers have been delayed, slowing yuan inflows. Although the Bank of Russia has increased its yuan reserves since the war began, it hasn’t been enough to resolve liquidity issues, especially as most imports from China must be paid in yuan. Additionally, a significant trade imbalance between Russia and China further exacerbates the issue of yuan payments.

The post Yuan Shortages Latest Headache for Russian Economy appeared first on Geopolitical Monitor.

The number of people exposed to extreme heat is growing exponentially due to climate change in all world regions. Heat-related mortality for people over 65 years of age increased by approximately 85% during 2000–2004 and 2017–2021.

From 2000–2019, studies show about 489,000 heat-related deaths occurred each year, with 45% of these in Asia and 36% in Europe. In Europe alone in the summer of 2022, an estimated 61,672 heat-related excess deaths occurred. High-intensity heat wave events can bring high acute mortality; in 2003, 70,000 people in Europe died as a result of the June–August event. In 2010, 56,000 excess deaths occurred during a 44–day heat wave in Russia.

Birds are falling out of the sky due to the heat. Reptiles come out seeking shade. Mammals and other wild animals are affected by a severe water shortage. Yet all of this less and less transforms into fresh news nowadays.

But with drought, one day comes food scarcity. Not only for the animals. And it will become a piece of news all the same.

Can humans do something with an immediate effect to prevent at least the food deficit?

Well, they already do it with cloud seeding.

A Brief History of Cloud Seeding

Some states manipulate clouds using a technique called ‘cloud seeding.’ The first cloud seeding techniques date back to the 1940s and involve making clouds merge and grow. This method has evolved into coalescing the particles inside clouds, which fall on the earth drawing down with them other particles encountered on the way, thus making rain or snow. To achieve this, substances had to be artificially introduced into the cloud, most often silver iodide, but various other techniques still exist. Some states also desalinate ocean or seawater, but it is a more expensive approach.

Cloud seeding before being elevated to a geo-engineering technique to combat climate change has gone through a reputation marring. The United States used the technique in the Vietnam War to slow the advance of opposing troops by causing flooding. In 1976, in response to the same use, the United Nations banned environmental modification techniques for military purposes with the ENMOD Convention. From that date onwards, it was forbidden to rain down clouds for ‘hostile’ purposes. However, the hostile nature of manipulation is sometimes difficult to demonstrate; in 1986, the USSR was said to have seeded clouds following the Chernobyl accident to make it rain over Belarus and thus protect Moscow from radioactive rain.

Later came the incidents of ‘stolen clouds.’ In 2011, Iran accused Europe that it had stolen its clouds and afterward in 2018, the story was repeated by an Iranian army general who blamed Israel. The latter case was more dramatic and approached a conflict situation because, in 2018, there was a severe drought in the country and the local farmers were protesting vehemently. Luckily, the head of the Iranian meteorology office intervened by denying the possibility of stolen clouds, which likely helped defuse the conflict. Nevertheless, Iran once again accused Turkey that it also was appropriating its clouds during a recent winter, as the mountain peaks on the Turkish side of their mutual border were snowy while the Iranian peaks on the opposite side were bare, allowing Turkey to attract more tourists.

Today, a country can do whatever it wants with the clouds that cross its airspace, and in many countries, research programs and experiments are multiplying. China has invested colossal sums of money into these techniques, to influence the weather during the Beijing Olympics in 2008, for example, or to combat drought. In 2020, it announced its intention to deploy its cloud seeding program, which until then had been tested on a very targeted basis, over half of its territory by 2025, with the aim of avoiding the droughts and hailstorms that can affect its agricultural production. The Gulf States are also applying seeding techniques using electric discharges in clouds. In France, an association called ANELFA is developing research in this field, with the aim of combating the hail that damages vineyards.

Not Without Its Controversies

In a podcast recorded for France Culture, the writer Mathieu Simonet and the climatologist Olivier Boucher point out that, for the time being, the effectiveness of cloud manipulating techniques remains highly controversial. For one, it is extremely difficult to know whether rain from a seeded cloud would not have existed without seeding.

The techniques raise two important questions for the future. The first concerns the ownership of water resources. While it may seem a trivial subject today, as water resources become scarce over time, there might be a risk of water conflict between neighboring countries over which ‘owns’ the rain. Indeed, if a country decides to ‘make it rain’ on its territory, it may be ‘stealing’ rain that would have fallen later in a neighboring country.

The second question concerns the environmental and health impacts of the substances being used to seed clouds. In large quantities, silver iodide is dangerous for biodiversity, particularly in aquatic environments. An English study carried out by the Centre for Ecology and Hydrology in the early 2000s revealed that silver iodide, below a certain concentration, is not toxic for the environment, but the substance is described as “extremely insoluble.” The risk is therefore that it accumulates and can be harmful over the long term. This obviously can make things more urgent than a creeping food deficit.

Today there are about 50 states which manipulate clouds to ensure ‘ordered’ rain. China has invested $1 billion only for five years in processing clouds. Experiments with cloud seeding are regularly made in the United States, Canada, Gulf countries, France, and Israel, just to name a few.

One proposed method to mitigate global warming with immediate effect is the making of something as a protective coat around the Earth. However, there are opinions that if it were to happen one day, a side effect of it would be nothing less than the disappearance of the blue sky. Here poetry and politics converge. But is that for a good reason when any hope for a prospective disrupting innovation is primarily precluded?

The Water Wars of Tomorrow

Looking 100 years into the future, technologies related to cloud seeding will be undoubtedly highly advanced and at that point, barring a global regime outlining their rightful use, the richest countries, would be able to invest most heavily and ultimately control the clouds.

Apart from everything else, a fundamental problem remains with cloud seeding. The technique works – to the extent that its effects can actually be set apart from natural processes – when there are clouds. But what about if there are no clouds in the sky? What will be squeezed then to make rain? And what can guarantee that the available clouds will always be able to deliver as much as is necessary for crops? Further, even if a cloud is seeded successfully, it does not mean that the rain or the snow will fall exactly on the spot where it is wanted.

And finally, with regard to the expensive process of desalinization, this establishes economic and political dependencies for countries that have no direct access to oceans and seas. How could cloud seeding thus be applied effectively and equitably in a world of growing politico-economic hostilities and fragmentation?

The post Cloud Seeding and the Water Wars of Tomorrow appeared first on Geopolitical Monitor.

During the Second Karabakh war, there were false claims Middle Eastern and Turkish mercenaries had been recruited to fight for Azerbaijan. In Ukraine, the only mercenaries -from India, Nepal, Africa, and elsewhere – are fighting for Russia.

If there had been Middle Eastern and Turkish mercenaries fighting for Azerbaijan, some of them would have been inevitably captured, held prisoner, and shown at press conferences by Armenia. Foreigners fighting for Ukraine are invited by a legitimate government to join the International Legion which is modelled on the French Foreign Legion.

Azerbaijan won the 2020 and 2023 wars because it had invested in military equipment from Israel, Türkiye, and elsewhere; Armenia used Russian military equipment. While most focus has been on Turkish-Azerbaijani military cooperation, in fact Israel’s security and military partnership with Azerbaijan predates Turkey’s by a decade. Israel has refused to provide Ukraine with military equipment.

As we have witnessed in Azerbaijan’s 2020 and 2023 wars with Armenia and the Ukraine war since 2022, Russian military equipment is of poor quality. Russian air defence, which Armenia completely relied on, has been destroyed countless times by Ukrainian drones and missiles. Russia’s much vaunted S-300 and S-400 systems are being knocked out by decades-old Patriot systems donated to Ukraine by the United States. Ukraine destroyed nearly 1,000 Russian air defence systems between February 2022-August 2024. Russian tanks and armoured personnel carriers (APCs), and infantry fighting vehicles (IFVs), which Armenia was again completely reliant upon, have proven to be of limited value in the Ukraine war. Russia has lost a staggering 8,496 tanks and 16,500 APCs and IFVs in the conflict so far.

It should not be of surprise therefore that the Russian military equipment used by Armenia in the Second Karabakh War and in 2023 in Karabakh proved to be of poor quality, as Russian troops are finding out in Ukraine.

Russia, and therefore also Armenia, did not invest in drones. In the case of Armenia this is not surprising as the Second Karabakh War was the first drone war in history. But Russia did not learn from Armenia’s mistake and invest in drones after 2020.

Azerbaijan incorporated Israeli and Turkish drones within its military and used them with devastating effect in the Second Karabakh War. Azerbaijan integrated Turkish Bayraktar drones with Israeli Harop drones. ‘While Bayraktar UAVs could not enter the destruction radius of some air defense complexes, such as S-300 and TOR-M2K, Harop UAVs provided support in those cases,’ two Azerbaijani experts commented.

When Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, it still had no drone capability and was forced to import them from Iran and China (Turkey refused to sell Russia Bayraktar drones).  Ukraine has successfully used Turkish, NATO supplied and home-produced drones to devastating effect on Russian military equipment and troops.

On the Ukrainian-Russian frontline, Ukraine reportedly has at least a 10 to 1 advantage in drone numbers. Ukraine is planning to produce three million drones every year. Russia lost its dominance: ‘Instead, Ukraine’s ability to rapidly innovate, produce, and deploy large quantities of new technologies has given them the upper hand, allowing them to outpace Russia in these critical domains.’ Furthermore, ‘Ukraine has emerged as a world leader in these fields as their defense industries are developing increasingly advanced systems for their warfighters.’

Added to this has been poor Russian and Armenian surveillance and electronic warfare capabilities. Russian electronic warfare capabilities in the Second Karabakh War were unable to thwart Turkish and Israeli drones and in Ukraine have been largely ineffective. Russian electronic surveillance should have warned about Azerbaijan’s plans to launch its offensive against Armenian-occupied Azerbaijan in 2020 but didn’t.

Russia failed to foresee Ukraine’s plans for the Kursk incursion on August 6. Azerbaijani and Ukrainian surveillance and electronic capabilities have proved to be far superior to Russia’s. Ukrainian successes in the Kursk region underscore their strengths in these technical domains. As the Kursk incursion progressed, Ukrainian forces used electronic warfare systems to disable Russian drones: ‘They then deployed swarms of their own drones to locate and target Russian positions. These strikes are followed by ground forces who move in to secure the area. This process is repeated systematically, allowing the Ukrainians to make steady gains. Meanwhile, the Russian forces do not appear to have a response for this tactic.’

As Ukrainian assault forces smashed across the border in the early hours that morning, several Russian units found that their drones and communications systems weren’t working. Ukrainian electronic-warfare units had crossed into Kursk ahead of the main forces to ‘jam Russian equipment to stop Russian forces from pinpointing Ukrainian positions or intercepting their communications,’ creating a protective bubble around advancing Ukrainian assault forces.

Military training in Russia has shown itself to be far poorer than in NATO members. Russian defensive planning in Kursk was as bad as its military relying on poor quality and wrong intelligence – that the Ukrainian military would crumble under a full-scale assault—during the February 2022 full-scale invasion. During the initial invasion and in the Kursk incursion, Russia ‘sent armoured columns into Ukraine in parade formation, making them easy targets for drones and antitank weapons.’

An important factor in Armenia’s military defeats was the reliance upon training in Russian military academies. This is not surprising as Armenia has been militarily integrated with Russia since the early 1990s, like Belarus. Armenia has two Russian military bases and is a founding member of the CSTO (Collective Security Treaty Organization. Until last month, Russian border guards, which fall under the control of the Russian FSB (Federal Security Service), patrolled Armenia’s borders and airports. In the Soviet Union, border guards operated under the KGB.

Azerbaijan and Georgia withdrew from the CSTO in 1999 when Borys Yeltsyn was Russian president. Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan has stated Armenia’s intention to withdraw from the CSTO because it did not militarily intervene on its side during the Second Karabakh War and in 2023 in Karabakh. Russian President Vladimir Putin is unlikely to follow Yeltsyn in accepting an Armenian withdrawal.

Military training in Russia – and therefore in Armenia – remains in essence Soviet. As shown in the Ukraine war, Russian officers are incompetent, corrupt, cowardly, and brutal in their treatment of lower ranks. Much of the training in Russian military academies perpetuates a hierarchical structure without providing flexibility, autonomy and initiative for officers.

‘Putin’s power vertical is still in place but for now it’s working against Russian objectives on the ground,’ said William Courtney, a former US diplomat and adjunct senior fellow at Rand. ‘And with Russia’s planning coming all from the top, its responses to unexpected, fast-moving events are incredibly impaired, with no one on the ground taking initiative.’

Azerbaijan’s military officers and special forces trained in Türkiye, Pakistan, Germany, Italy, and other countries. This training brought Azerbaijani officers and special forces up to NATO standards which is far superior to that provided by Russia. In Ukraine, Russia’s much vaunted Special Forces have not shown themselves to be very competent and have often been used as regular troops in ‘meat assaults’ (i.e., cannon fodder).

Azerbaijan defeated Armenia, and Ukraine is prevailing over Russia, because both Baku and Kyiv switched their militaries to Western and NATO military training, officer preparation, and specialist tactics. Ukraine’s Special Forces, for example, were created after Russia’s first invasion in 2014 and trained to NATO standards. Ukraine’s SBU (Security Service) and HRU (military intelligence) have a near decade long cooperation and training with US intelligence.

The poor performance of Russian military equipment in Ukraine has led to a number of countries reducing their orders. Armenia should follow suit and look to the United States and NATO for military equipment.

Russia’s monopoly domination of the Armenian military precedes Pashinyan coming to power in the 2018 democratic revolution, but with Russian influence in decline in Eurasia, he has an opportune chance to fundamentally change this. Ukraine moved away from Russia to the West after the 2004 Orange and 2013-2014 Euromaidan Revolutions, and decisively after its full-scale invasion.

Pashinyan’s first step, the removal of Russian control of Armenia’s borders, has been undertaken. Armenia’s second step is to action Pashinyan’s discourse and withdraw from the CSTO. The third step would be for Armenia to move from a one-directional pro-Russian to institutionalizing a multi-vector foreign and security policy together with pursuing military and security cooperation with the US, NATO and the EU. Armenia has no better example to follow than Ukraine, which is humiliating Putin on Russia’s own territory.

Taras Kuzio is a professor of political science at the National University Kyiv-Mohyla Academy of Kyiv, Ukraine. His books ‘Russian Disinformation and Western Scholarship’ and ‘Fascism and Genocide. Russia’s War Against Ukrainians’ are recently published by Columbia University Press.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author(s) alone and do not necessarily reflect those of Geopoliticalmonitor.com.

The post Western Weapons Made the Difference in Ukraine and the Second Karabakh War appeared first on Geopolitical Monitor.

The CSTO, established in 2002, was initially intended to counter external aggression against its members and harmonize foreign policy stances. Much like Article Five of the North Atlantic Treaty, the CSTO members are bound by the principles of collective defense. Article Four of the organization’s charter states that if a bloc member is subjected to aggression by another state or group of states, it will be considered an attack on all members. However, the stark inaction of Russian allies within the CSTO in response to the recent Kursk incursion can be viewed as a final and decisive blow to the credibility of the Moscow-led military-political alliance, reducing it to a mere ‘paper tiger.’

This is not the first time the CSTO’s impotence has come to the fore. Previously, President Alexander Lukashenko of Belarus criticized the alliance for ignoring Kyrgyzstan’s request for assistance during ethnic clashes in 2010, asking: “What sort of organization is this if there is bloodshed in one of our member states… and this body keeps silent?” Furthermore, Uzbekistan’s withdrawal from the CSTO twice–first in 1999 and then again in 2012–exposed fractures within the alliance. More recently, Armenia suspended its participation in the bloc after the CSTO failed to honor its commitments when Azerbaijan regained control of its breakaway region of Nagorno-Karabakh in September 2022. These instances have not just underscored the paper structure of the Moscow-led security bloc but also fueled a growing disillusionment with the alliance, casting a shadow of doubt on its credibility.

The CSTO’s failure to uphold collective defense is compounded by a lack of solidarity among its members. Recent reporting by POLITICO reveals that Belarus provided Azerbaijan with military aid and advanced weapons, including state-of-the-art artillery targeting equipment and Groza-S counter-drone mobile warfare stations, between 2018 and 2022. Despite being allies within the CSTO, Belarusian weapons were extensively used in combat against Armenia, a fellow CSTO member, during the 2020 Karabakh War. President Lukashenko’s public description of Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev as “our man” and his assertion that it would be “wrong” for the CSTO to oppose him, underscore the absence of genuine solidarity within the bloc, revealing deep-seated divisions.

If these events undermined the bloc’s reputation layer by layer, then the CSTO’s inaction and the “coordinated silence” of Kremlin allies amid Ukraine’s direct intervention into Russian territory have dealt a final blow to the CSTO, increasing Moscow’s isolation and dispelling myths about the bloc’s collective defense obligations. Strikingly, even Putin’s close ally Lukashenko, who remains persona non grata in the West, did not come to Russia’s defense. Instead, he deployed additional troops and armored vehicles to defend the borders of Belarus and even called for an end to the war, stating in an interview with a Russian journalist: “Let’s sit down at the negotiating table and end this scuffle.” The statement suggests that Belarus may be scaling back even its rhetorical support for Russia’s war in Ukraine.

The coordinated silence from Central Asia’s five nations, theoretically aligned with Russia through the CSTO or the Treaty of Allied Relations, further illustrates Moscow’s growing isolation. Unlike Russia, which has used the CSTO to preserve its regional dominance and protect its self-declared “privileged interests” in post-Soviet space, Central Asian nations utilize the bloc to counter transnational threats such as terrorism and receive Russian weapons and military training. The arrangement has allowed Central Asian states to avoid potential Russian military interventions while keeping their suspicious “friend” closer.

Russia’s faltering war in Ukraine and the subsequent Kursk incursion have opened a new window of opportunity for Central Asia to enhance regional cooperation and potential integration among themselves without external powers—a scenario that, until recently, seemed unlikely.

For years, one of the major stumbling blocks for Central Asia integration has always been Russia, which has consistently sought to forestall any attempts to diversify trade and gas pipelines and disrupt potential integration processes among the region’s five nations. However, due to its military operation in Ukraine, Russia has to reorient its war machine toward the latter. For instance, Moscow has redeployed 1,500 troops from a Russian military base in Tajikistan to Ukraine. While the withdrawal of hundreds of Russian troops from Armenia’s border does not directly impact Central Asia, it signals the deterioration of the Kremlin’s military and political influence, significantly affecting the region’s security environment.

This shifting dynamic was evident at the recent sixth consultative meeting of Central Asian heads of state in Astana, held on August 9, where a newfound resolve to institutionalize economic and defense cooperation emerged. Uzbekistan’s President Shavkat Mirziyoyev highlighted the geopolitical challenges facing the region, stating, “Central Asia, due to its geopolitical position, is experiencing the negative consequences of the global trust crisis and the escalation of conflicts… and we have become prisoners of the policy of sanctions,” a clear reference to the detrimental effects of Russia’s actions in Ukraine.

Amid these developments, Kazakhstan’s President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev published an article titled “Renaissance of Central Asia: Towards Sustainable Development and Prosperity” in Kazakhstanskaya Pravda, calling for coordination of regional security and defense policies among the five Central Asian republics. President Tokayev’s vision of a more integrated and prosperous Central Asia, free from Russia’s overbearing influence, suggests a potential shift in the region’s geopolitical dynamics that could drastically alter existing alliances and power structures.

These evolving dynamics present a strategic opportunity for Western powers. Central Asia, located at the heart of Eurasia, now offers a crucial opportunity for the United States to reassert its influence in the region, particularly in light of the credibility lost after the withdrawal from Afghanistan. A strong, integrated Central Asia aligns well with the objectives of the US Strategy for Central Asia 2019-2025, which emphasizes strengthening the sovereignty and independence of the Central Asian states through enhanced connectivity.

Without pushing Central Asian states into picking sides, which might be counter-effective, Washington should increase its engagement with Central Asian nations and support their effort to foster regional integration with any neighboring external actors, acting as a unified single voice in international political and economic relations.

Alouddin Komilov is a chief research fellow at the Center for Progressive Reforms (CPR).

Otabek Akromov is a PhD researcher in Political Science at the University of Minnesota and a policy analyst at the CPR.

Mirshohid Aslanov is the co-founder and CEO of the CPR. 

The views expressed in this article belong to the author(s) alone and do not necessarily reflect those of Geopoliticalmonitor.com.

The post What Ukraine’s Kursk Incursion Reveals about Russia’s Role in Central Asia appeared first on Geopolitical Monitor.

Climate change is forcing people to flee their homes on an unimaginable scale. According to the Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre, an estimated 30.7 million people were displaced by natural disasters in 2020 alone. This figure is expected to rise as climate change increases the frequency and intensity of such events. Low-lying coastal areas, small island nations, and regions prone to drought and desertification are particularly vulnerable, with millions of people facing the prospect of permanent relocation.

Climate migration raises some of the most fundamental ethical and legal questions. While climate migrants are not like the conventional refugees who run away from conflict or persecution, they lack proper legal protection at the current moment. The 1951 Refugee Convention does not include environmental factors as a basis for seeking asylum, and thus climate migrants are in a vulnerable legal position. This gap points to the importance of the development of an international legal regime that would cater for the needs of climate displaced populations.

Moreover, climate migration is most prevalent among the global population’s least privileged and responsible for emitting the least greenhouse gases. This situation brings forth some of the most pertinent ethical questions in terms of responsibility and justice. The developed countries that have contributed most to the emissions have to be at the forefront in funding climate change adaptation and offering safe refuge to displaced persons.

International organizations need to take the lead in efforts to address climate-induced migration. The United Nations, for example, in the Global Compact for Safe, Orderly, and Regular Migration has started considering environmental aspects of migration. But stronger actions are required to guarantee that climate migrants will be protected and assisted properly.

Regional bodies can also play a crucial role. For example, the Pacific Islands Forum has advocated for regional agreements that facilitate the relocation of communities affected by rising sea levels. Such frameworks can serve as models for other regions facing similar challenges.

Climate migration is not something that can be solved by a single strategy; it has to be solved through adaptation and mitigation. Adaptation entails the strengthening of the ability of communities to cope with climate effects, which in effect reduces the number of people who will have to be relocated. This can involve spending on physical capital, information systems, and sound methods of farming. Whereas, mitigation deals with the effects of climate change and seeks to minimize the effects that are likely to be experienced in future. In this regard, there is a need for international cooperation where countries collaborate to meet the goals of the Paris Agreement. Therefore, by reducing emissions, the international society can prevent the long-term causes of climate migration.

At the heart of any approach to climate migration must be respect for human rights and human dignity. Displaced people and communities should not only be viewed as ‘victims,’ but as agents with important experience and capabilities. Policies should enable them to be productive members of their new societies and facilitate their economic assimilation into society.

Climate migration is an urgent and complex challenge that demands immediate and coordinated action from the international community. As John Stuart Mill’s cautionary words remind us, empowering individuals and nations to address this crisis with creativity and determination is crucial. In navigating this new wave of global displacement, the path to our salvation lies in recognizing our shared humanity and collective responsibility. Will the international community rise to the occasion, or will we allow the climate crisis to dwarf our common potential? The choices we make today will shape the future of millions and define the legacy of our generation.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author(s) alone and do not necessarily reflect those of Geopoliticalmonitor.com.

The post Climate Migration: Preparing for Waves of Global Displacement appeared first on Geopolitical Monitor.