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Introduction: The Culmination Points The war in Ukraine has been raging for 19 months and is yet to exhibit a conclusive imbalance of forces and means. This is good news for Ukraine, who was expected to surrender within days, and an unprecedented embarrassment for Russia, who planned for a Crimea 2.0. What we are witnessing today is undoubtedly the result of a cluster of Russian intelligence failures, both in terms of reconnaissance and operational support. A lot has been written about the general errors in autocratic intelligence management, as well as Russia’s resistance to modern tactical realities such as crowdsourcing open-source intelligence (OSINT), but few have considered the overall weakness of the underlying strategic intelligence assets. For Russia, a loyal collaborator network, the Russian Orthodox Church (ROC), and certain advanced cyberwarfare were central to preparing the ground for a quick surrender. All of these, however, reached their culmination points after the initial intervention in Ukraine 8 years prior. The culmination point of attack is a well-known Clausewitzian military concept describing the inevitable equilibrium reached as a result of the defender’s counterbalancing activities and the attacker’s consequent loss of initial superiority. At this point, the attacker is still able to hold the defence, yet continuing the offensive in the same manner would mean defeat. In Russian doctrine, the same laws apply to a clandestine battlefield, where the culmination point is reached with the exposure of one’s true goals, means, and methods. Intelligence operations that fail to adapt to the operating environment and enemy responses naturally become counterproductive to the attacker’s strategic goals. The annexation of Crimea was an example of a successful deployment of clandestine means at the height of their strategic influence. The operation has been described as a clever adaptation of tactics after being cornered by the failure of Russia’s original active measure campaign in 2013. However, the aftermath of that operation brought the remaining Russian influence assets to their culmination point, thus calling for a clear change of strategy. The Kremlin’s political-strategic goal – ever since Ukraine’s declaration of independence – has been to subordinate it to Moscow’s will. In pursuit of that, Moscow has attempted to instal various puppet entities into Ukraine’s political system, starting with the illegitimate “Donbas people’s republics” in 2014. Eight years and two Minsk Agreements later, the Kremlin had not achieved the desired results and decided to extend the puppet network into Kyiv’s central government. Similarly to Crimea, a successful power transfer merited a quick (and preferably bloodless) surrender of the government. Setting the stage for a Crime-type power transfer was, therefore, the venerable goal of the Russian intelligence services in the leadup to the invasion. The Federal Security Service’s (FSB, Federal’naya Sluzhba Bezopasnosti) 5th Directorate – tasked with combatting dissent in Russia’s “near abroad” – carried the heaviest weight in preparing Ukraine for invasion. Some western security officials would even hold the FSB accountable for the trickle-down failures of the Main Directorate of the General Staff of the Armed Forces (GRU, Glavnoye Razvedyvatelnoye Upravlenie) and Russian military intelligence, who were forced to work with flawed base information regarding the potential for Ukrainian resistance. Adding to this the obsoleteness of Russia’s agent network, Orthodox authorities, and cyberwarfare upon which its success largely relied, the invasion was doomed to fail from the start. 1. A Network Without Collaboration The primary covert asset – required for a swift occupation of Ukraine – was a reliable Russian agent network on the ground to provide strategic intelligence and prepare the information conditions enabling a smooth power transfer. Such a cultivation of the soil for a Russian takeover started already in the 1990s, eventually unleashing a competition for the most impactful ground presence among the Russian intelligence services. According to Bellingcat’s lead investigator, Christo Grozev, Russia’s internal security service and military intelligence, in particular, have been competing to set up the most far-reaching fifth column in Ukraine. In pursuit of that, both the FSB and the GRU have targeted not only Ukrainian politicians, activists, and security officials but also the judiciary, journalists, and former Yanukovych associates. By 2014, Russia’s agents of influence had provided enough leverage to convert existing political divisions, weak institutions, and high- levelcorruptionintoaquicksurrenderof Crimea and Donbas. Researchers from the Estonian Academy of Military Sciences identified the saboteur network’s systematic spreading of panic and propaganda as a key factor enabling Russian success in Donbas. It entailed fake news that alleged heavy Ukrainian casualties and the untrustworthiness of the government in Kyiv. Separatist collaborators, together with professional Russian intelligence officers, stood at the centre of these information operations. Such officers would, for instance, arrive at conflict hotspots, alongside the “journalists” specialised in propaganda, and fabricate the developments to appear unfavourable to Ukrainian resistance. It meant that by the start of the physical confrontation in Donbas, the region had been thoroughly primed for Russian intervention and that incoming troops had no trouble convincing Ukrainians to surrender entire settlements without resistance. Weeks prior, a similar scenario had unfolded in Crimea, with the collaborator network enabling deep deception and fast evolution of events on the ground. At the height of that unprecedented operation, the appearance of Russian troops without insignia made it difficult for Ukrainian counterintelligence to diagnose and respond to the situation, not to mention the paralysing confusion in local civilian masses. The covert operation ran smoothly, owing its success to widespread collaboration from the local police, security service, political, and criminal elites, whom the Russians had managed to infiltrate and corrupt. The efficient informational cover and timely intelligence provided by the collaborator network allowed Russian forces to swiftly seize key strategic positions on the peninsula and thus deny grassroots resistance by deception. However, what the Kremlin may not have realised in 2022 was that underlying the success in Crimea were extremely favourable political conditions and the complete novelty of the chosen approach, which could not be replicated in other operations. Moscow’s human intelligence (HUMINT)-enabled and deceptive diversion operation in Ukraine, therefore, reached its culmination point in 2014. At that moment, Russia still retained enough plausible deniability to avoid direct proportional consequences, but the opposing security communities became hyper- focused on the “hybrid” elements in Russian offensive operations, thereby suggesting exposure of the Kremlin’s covert methods. The operation’s political technologist, Vladislav Surkov, was sanctioned by the US immediately after the annexation, despite the frantic efforts of his aides to deny his involvement to the Western public. Experts interpreted Surkov’s careless reaction as a mere bluff. Notwithstanding the evident exposure of the covert operation, Russia’s game plan for a successful military intervention in 2022 remained unchanged. As the most comprehensive post-mortem of the intelligence failure details, the Russian asset network was meant to paralyse the Ukrainian state and condition Ukrainian officials to accept a pro-Russian course; the next step would be provoking mass protests against the government’s sudden inability to serve Ukrainian national interests. The systematic spreading of false narratives regarding the protests would help fracture Ukrainian resistance and provide a moral justification for an invasion. Analogous to the 2014 operations, Moscow’s agents on the ground were supposed to maintain pro-Russian sentiments in the contested territories until Russian forces secured critical strategic positions. The main goal of the GRU’s ground network was to ensure the physical passage of Russian troops and members of the FSB’s planned puppet government. A principal role in this was to be played by one of the GRU’s most crucial assets and a member of the Ukrainian Parliament, Andriy Derkach, recruited in 2016. By the time of the invasion, Derkach and his assistant Igor Kolesnikov had been put at the centre of the entire network. However, at the final preparatory and initial active stages of the invasion, multiple malfunctions occurred, signalling a premature burnout. • The first setback was the sanctioning of Andriy Derkach in 2020 for his interference in the 2016 US presidential election. In addition to provoking mass protests and misleading Ukrainian counterintelligence, Derkach was to lead the dissemination of disinformation about the dangers associated with Ukrainian nuclear energy production – all of which failed to materialise after his landing on the blacklist. Complete exposure of Russia’s intended psychological operations became clear weeks prior to the invasion when the UK and US had strategically declassified comprehensive intelligence about Moscow’s plans to politically subvert Ukraine. Remarkably, the Security Service of Ukraine (SBU, Sluzhba Bezpeky Ukrainy) had apparently been aware of the Derkach network – and allegedly neutralised it at the beginning of the invasion by detaining Kolesnikov, identified as the key manager of funding. • The second setback partly followed from the first. Such public and attributed disclosure of Russian psychological operations gained superiority for the Ukrainian narrative and mobilised a resolute international alliance (even though Ukrainian officials had been initially denying the possibility of a Russian attack). Moreover, in the face of Russian aggression, domestic public opinion was uniformly in favour of EU and NATO integration. This should have been interpreted as a clear sign that the lack of societal cohesion and international support no longer formed a weakness to exploit. Unlike in 2014-15, there were indicators that the West would intervene. However, the FSB chose to conduct its own polls, overseen by a former Yanukovych aide in charge of sleeper agents, and then interpreted the numbers to support the armed intervention. As RUSI researchers have explained, the invasion was likely based on the premise that those institutions in which the population showed the most trust – i.e., the military and the civil society organisations – could also be easily neutralised by the Russian network on the ground in Ukraine. Battlefield success during the initial stages of the invasion, therefore, relied on similar influence and diversion tactics as in 2014. In grave contrast to the former, the invading troops instead found the local population in the contested territories assisting the Ukrainian intelligence services to sabotage Russian positions. Hence, sticking to the methods of 2014 was counterproductive for the agent network of 2022. • This led to the third setback: the questionable loyalty of Russian junior agents and informers in Ukraine. The FSB’s strengths in the Ukrainian theatre came with a considerable expansion of its operations and the establishment of a “curator system,” whereby over 120 FSB curators would manage around 5-10 asset relationships. It involved a shift from targeting exclusively the highest- ranking officials in 2014 to virtually everyone associated with influential people, down to their service personnel in 2022. A key characteristic of this approach was that assets were recruited on a flexible, temporary, and project basis, which sometimes did not align with their professions and, therefore, took a toll on the assets’ quality and loyalty. In the words of the SBU’s reserve Major General Viktor Yahun, the expanded spy network in Ukraine was corrupted by its own structure. As assets got tangled in a “circle of responsibility” to cover comrades and improve their own results, the intelligence reaching the decision- makers at the top was being tailored to support the illusion of an easy Russian victory. The status of Putin’s favoured service, earned by the successes of 2014, also deepened patrimonialism within the curators themselves, whose tool to advance one’s career was to validate the Kremlin’s pre-decided policies. The GRU was facing the same problem: most of the influence agents they had recruited would not cooperate directly with their curators after “D-Day,” suggesting that they may have never been supportive of an operation of this kind. In this regard, Christo Grozev brings a noteworthy example of an asset inside the SBU that the GRU had to execute to preserve its credibility among other collaborators. The structure and modus operandi of the Kremlin’s agent network in Ukraine, therefore, suggests that it was expected to behave similarly as did in 2014 – i.e., to condition both the authorities and the local communities to surrender without resistance. However, as one puts all the setbacks together a clear picture emerges: once a functioning asset network had been reduced to ashes by the start of the invasion. 2. A Church Without Faith The collaborator network was interconnected with the ROC – a de-facto state institution that, in the words of Russian religious scholar Sergey Chapnin, “less and less resembles a church in the traditional understanding of this word.” It is rather a multifaceted influence asset of the Russian state that has prematurely culminated first on the strategic and then on the operational level. The ROC attains its strategic significance from its special status as a formally depoliticised extension of the state’s hand – its main function ever since Peter the Great’s imperialistic reforms. Stalin’s revival of the church during WWII and the recruitment of its priests as the People’s Commissariat for Internal Affairs (NKVD, Narodnyi komissariat vnutrennikh del) agents set up a patrimonial security structure that outlasted the collapse of the USSR. Up to date, Patriarch Kirill, the current leader of the ROC, continues to emphasise the close relationship between the church and the state. A deep dive into its history shows that in 1992, the church’s public discourse began to glorify Russian combat soldiers as saints. Indeed, in the context of war, there is no asset as useful as one that can justify and encourage dying en masse for the Motherland. However, events took a downturn for the ROC on the eve of the Crimean annexation. Leaked emails from the operation’s leading architect, Vladislav Surkov, revealed that the ROC had failed its grand strategic mission already in the leadup to the Ukrainian Euromaidan, making the annexation the last resort rather than a demonstration of power. This happened as the Kremlin sought to use the church as a tool to steer Ukrainian public sentiments towards “Eurasia” but, after various propaganda campaigns, found all the Orthodox churches in Ukraine still formally favouring integration with the EU. Having failed to influence the general direction of Ukraine, the ROC, nevertheless, maintained substantial social authority in the target country. The FSB’s polls found that ahead of the invasion, the church was still highly regarded by over half of the Ukrainian population. The deep intelligence infiltration of the Moscow Patriarchate’s domains allowed the church to remain the main cover organisation for Russian operations since the 1990s. The ROC’s impact was the most visible in Ukrainian domestic politics, where its presence secured Russia’s claims to Ukrainian territory by cultivating a “religious nationalist” political faction, promoting the narrative of inherent religious unity between the two nations. Drawing on this uncontested institutional authority, the real value of the ROC was in enabling the Kremlin to uphold an elected pro-Russian representation in the Verkhovna Rada of Ukraine throughout multiple election cycles. What was left of the ROC’s strategic influence on Ukraine’s political and religious divisions peaked just before the start of the conflict in 2014. The culmination point was reached with the annexation of Crimea when the church first came under fire. Yet, it was still able to escape blame and distance itself by portraying the Russian intervention as a religious dispute within the context of a “Ukrainian civil war.” Since no creative adaptations to the strategy followed, the increasing public questioning of the ROC’s loyalties after the annexation took a toll on its influence, eventually leading to a formal secession of the Ukrainian church from the Moscow Patriarchate in 2019. It delivered a fatal blow to the ROC as its main reason for existence had become the “one Orthodox nation” myth used to maintain control over Ukraine. Whereas the ROC’s central strategic narrative had simply failed to make an impact before the occupation of Crimea, after the annexation, it was outright swept out of existence. Beyond political strategies, the ROC also had an operational role in capturing Ukraine. In the 2014 battles, for instance, priests were found fighting among separatist ranks in Donbas and operating torture chambers on the premises of religious facilities. Paramilitaries with a distinct Orthodox identity made a significant contribution to the separatist war effort, especially wing to the participation of local “Kazak” units familiar with the landscape. In the ongoing war, Estonian Foreign Intelligence recognised the ROC’s provision of multifunctional safehouses to be a critical constituent of the Russian ground network. Even more importantly, it was the ROC’s associates who provided the most valuable HUMINT if compared to the otherwise underperforming network. Naturally, the church’s special status as a religious institution, with a mandate to oppose the Kremlin, grants it the most auspicious position to conduct social network analysis and gather overall situational awareness. Christo Grozev also admits that church associates constitute a pool of trustworthy pro-Russian “spies and gunners” who assist with the actual conduct of hostilities. In continuation of the 2014 efforts, ROC priests were again among the most important local agents promoting the invaders and reporting the non-conformists to the Russian occupant forces. The ROC’s operational community manage- ment duties maxed out during the initial phases of the occupation in 2022, with the loss of plausible deniability regarding its involvement. Following the secession of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church during Poroshenko’s presidency, the ROC’s positions began to deteriorate, while the reach of malicious Russian networks and influence tools embedded in it was reduced. It had, nevertheless, enjoyed relative immunity up until the invasion due to the Ukrainian government’s political fear of limiting religious freedom and offending the remaining Ukrainian patriots among the ROC’s followers. However, uncovering the extent of Russian war crimes during the Ukrainian counteroffensive left the ROC no more room for denial and resulted in a systematic targeting of the church and its associates. It was at this point that the maintenance of the ROC as an operational asset became counterproductive. Ukrainian counterintelligence soon confiscated its physical property and made sure to expose all suspicious findings to the media. Statistics show that most believers consequently began to see Russian Orthodox priests primarily as intelligence agents; a tectonic shift in formal allegiance to the Ukrainian Orthodox Church has occurred, thereby dealing a final blow to the ROC’s legitimacy in Ukraine. 3. Attack Without Leverage The final asset – crucial to shaping sentiments on the ground and complementing Russian military strikes – was state-sponsored cyberattacks on Ukraine’s critical infrastructure. One particular GRU cyber unit named “Sandworm” was the prime actor associated with this task since the beginning of the war in Ukraine. After hacking various news and government websites to spread disinformation and encourage the population to surrender to occupation authorities, the GRU’s cyber strategy culminated with a large-scale attack on Ukrainian critical infrastructure in December 2015, leaving thousands of civilians without power for a prolonged period. This was another classic attempt to undermine societal trust in Ukraine’s capabilities to withstand aggression and provide for its citizens. For external observers, Sandworm’s attack constituted both an escalation from previous disruptive incidents and the first successful sabotage of a state’s energy infrastructure by a covert cyber campaign. The West – while acknowledging the campaign’s highly sophisticated and systematic nature – was left dumbfounded by Russia’s technical capability and fearful of Moscow’s potential to politically subvert Ukraine. That ominous precedent exemplified to multiple stakeholders and observer states the necessity of securing their power grids from hostile foreign state actors. The 2015 attack became Sandworm’s culmination point: Ukraine was severely affected but recovered fast amidst the international attention. The GRU managed to hit the target’s weakness in a highly unexpected manner while initially retaining an umbrella of deniability, plausible enough to avoid legal repercussions. In theoretical terms, a retreat – or change of strategy – at that point was warranted to avoid burnout. However, the GRU approached the attack rather as reconnaissance by combat – i.e., a subtype of reflexive control aimed at gaining intelligence on the target’s capabilities and potential responses by way of attack. Having witnessed Ukraine’s inability to resist or respond to such incidents, Sandworm carried out occasional attacks in the following years. Continuing the cyber campaign without any modifications became counterproductive when private companies and other external entities entered the game on Ukraine’s side. By 2022, highly capable private actors such as Microsoft had already pre-emptively intervened and offered real-time assistance to Ukraine in countering Russian cyberattacks throughout the invasion. Likewise, the Starlink communications technology not only derailed Russian attempts to disturb Ukrainian command and control but became a lifeline for civil resistance. In a direct affront to Russia’s cyber campaign’s goals, the donated Western technology enabled sophisticated intelligence collection and fire support operations capability for the Ukrainian forces. The turn of tables became apparent with two main events. • First, in the beginning, stage of the invasion, Sandworm launched large- scale wiper attacks on Ukraine’s critical digital infrastructure, with Viasat, a military communications provider, among its targets. As in the old playbook, the goal was to undermine Ukraine’s political will and collect intelligence on all levels. While significant tactical complications for the target followed, the attack failed to affect Ukraine’s societal and military morale as planned. On the contrary, the Ukrainian Armed Forces managed to leverage the public for intelligence value, further strengthening societal resilience. • Second, reassured by the 2015 experience, Sandworm attempted another ambitious cyberattack on the Zaporizhzhia nuclear power plant a few months into the invasion, aiming to leave millions without energy. However, this time, the aid provided by Ukraine’s private supporters enabled a complete denial of the fatal attack or any force-multiplying effects to entail. Furthermore, the resemblance of the offensive software to the 2015 attack facilitated a faster neutralisation of the cyberweapon. Russia’s efforts again failed to account for the greatly enhanced resilience that Ukraine’s digital infrastructure would display after learning from the initial shock attack. The Ukrainian side, on the contrary, demonstrated an understanding of the GRU’s modus operandi and gained silent battleground superiority by capitalising on the initial exposure of Sandworm. Conclusion: The Common Denominator There was one common denominator between Andriy Derkach, the ROC leadership, and Sandworm: they were all products on the Kremlin’s covert action shelf whose expiry date had passed almost a decade ago (although they may still often come up to describe Russia’s hidden strategy to condition Ukraine into a quick surrender). What started as a markedly successful leveraging of covert assets in support of territorial gains and political concessions in 2014 culminated with a complete strategic blunder that was the 2022 invasion. A premature culmination of those three strategic assets is one way to explain the outcomes. After the successful annexation of Crimea and destabilisation of Donbas, the FSB expanded its Ukraine operations but failed to realise that the loyalty and public sentiments that triumphed in 2014 would not be the default in 2022. The GRU’s efforts against Ukraine were exposed both on the ground and in cyberspace, which helped Ukraine gain external support and build up resilience against the two types of subversion. In the meantime, the FSB and the GRU were heavily relying on the ROC, which had been gradually losing all leverage in Ukraine after the 2019 schism and the 2022 exposure of its direct involvement in the conflict. On the one hand, the turn of events suggests that Russia’s tools and theories of hybrid warfare may be neither as sophisticated nor effective as feared after the annexation of Crimea. The flip side of this implies that the current war will rely more on Russian biomass and hard power, especially now when assets of influence and non-military subversion have been exhausted. On the other hand, our understanding of Russia’s performance in this regard may be somewhat biased since we are, by definition, only able to analyse intelligence failures – not achievements. Another aspect to consider is the continuing revelations of Russia’s successful meddling in democratic political processes abroad, which suggests that some Russian covert assets outside of Ukraine may yet reach their culmination points. The central questions are if and what the Kremlin learns from the strategic failures in Ukraine, as well as whether it becomes more open to the structural improvements needed.

Russia has been at war with Ukraine for more than 10 months, with no end in sight and with just as little prospect for direct negotiations between the warring parties. These were last broken off mutually on 17 May 2022. Since then, there have been repeated calls in Germany, whether in opinion articles or open letters, for more diplomatic efforts to end the hostilities. Such calls were often combined with demands for the federal government to cease arms deliveries to Ukraine: when all is said and done, peace is achieved not with arms, but with a truce, the argument goes. And continuing the war with the already unrealistic goal of a Ukrainian victory and the recapture of all the territory occupied by Russia would only mean useless bloodshed. These calls are all too understandable given the horrific images of suffering and destruction that reach us daily from Ukraine. Even so, it would be wrong right now to urge Ukraine to negotiate – or even give up parts of its territory and the people living there. Surely, no one wants the guns to go silent more than the Ukrainians themselves. They are the victims of this war. It is their hospitals, kindergartens and schools that have been destroyed by Russian missiles and drone attacks. Many have lost their homes. When the air raid sirens sound, it is they who sit in the shelters and who go without heating, electricity or running water, often for hours or days on end. The exact number of soldiers who have died at the front is unknown; US estimates put the count at up to 100,000. And yet, the Ukrainian government wants to continue the fight against the Russian aggressor – and only negotiate directly with Russia if and when the Kremlin first answers for its war crimes before an international tribunal and withdraws all troops from Ukraine, including from the illegally annexed areas. In this,  the government is supported by the vast majority of the Ukrainian population.Putin wants total control of UkraineIt is clear to the Ukrainians that the Russian President Vladimir Putin is not interested in finding a way for a secure coexistence with a sovereign and independent Ukraine that can determine its own future.  He wants it gone. In his view, today's Ukraine is nothing more than a ‘colony with a puppet regime’, an externally controlled and hostile ‘anti-Russia’, set up against the ‘real cultural, economic and social interests of the people and the true sovereignty of Ukraine’. For Putin, Ukraine and Russia are ‘one people’.  A Ukraine that is independent of Russia and wants to open up to Europe along the lines of its central European neighbours is unacceptable because it calls into question the very foundations of the Russian imperium, which Putin is determined to prevent from falling apart. The repeatedly expressed assumptions that Russia is ultimately only concerned with preventing Ukraine from joining NATO, or only has geographic interests in the Donbas, are wrong. In truth, Moscow wants Ukraine to relinquish much more: its freedom, its identity, its self-determination, its culture. The destruction of Ukrainian life, Ukrainian art and Ukrainian statehood, together with repressions – from murder to rape to abduction – in the occupied territories are clear demonstrations of this. So far, there is no reason to believe that Putin's thinking has changed in recent months. On the contrary, with every further step, Putin makes clear that he is not ready to make concessions. Although he and other members of the Russian government regularly mention the word ‘negotiations’, they have so far not presented a concrete option. As recently as the end of December 2022, Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov repeated the call for the ‘demilitarisation and denazification’ of Ukraine and described the illegally annexed areas of Ukraine as Russia’s ’new territories’. Clearly, Putin has not abandoned his goal of complete political control over the country but has merely adjusted his approach and timeline. Because Russia was not militarily successful, the devastating airstrikes on the Ukrainian civilian population and the energy infrastructure are now intended to break the population's will to resist and to wear down the country – until Russia is able to launch a new offensive in the spring. Putin is also counting on the fact that the western supporter states – also under pressure from their populations – will soon tire and run out of weapons, ammunition and money for Kyiv. If the West were now to press for a ceasefire or peace negotiations, perhaps with the threat that it would otherwise end support for Ukraine, that would signal to the Kremlin that its method is working and that all it has to do is wait until we lose patience. So far, none of the advocates of an imminent ceasefire have been able to convincingly explain how Putin can be persuaded to make concessions without exerting further military pressure on him.Preventing Russia from dictating peaceWe Germans, in particular, have for years been repeating the mantra that ‘there is no military solution’ to this or that conflict. Unlike Vladimir Putin: in Georgia, the Crimea and Syria, he has learned that he can very successfully use military force to achieve his political goals. In the current conflict, therefore, only Ukraine's military successes prevent such a dictated peace from happening. In other words, Russia must first be stopped and pushed back militarily before there can be any chance of real diplomacy. It's about enabling Ukraine to hold its own against the Russian invasion and showing Putin that even a new military offensive in the spring has no chance of succeeding – and that this won't change over time. The West itself has a paramount interest in Putin not making any gain from his war of aggression. His ambitions are a danger to all of Europe. If he gets away again with using force and nuclear blackmail to bring parts of another state under his control, this invites repetition elsewhere, be it by Russia or another state. The goal of an overall revision of the European security order, which is essential for peace and prosperity also here in Germany, was announced by Russia in the treaty texts of December 2021. The decision by Germany, the US and France to now also supply Ukraine with armoured personnel carriers and reconnaissance vehicles is therefore logical. It emphasises that the major military powers of the West will not force Ukraine into an unacceptable deal with Russia.  Of course, the danger of escalation must always be kept in mind when providing military support. However, the reactions after missiles fell on the Polish-Ukrainian border in particular has shown that the West is aware of this and is reacting prudently and is capable of risk management. Real negotiations will only begin again when both Russia and Ukraine come to the conclusion that there is more to be gained from a truce than from fighting on. Perhaps the cards will be reshuffled after spring — if the ’hot autumn’ and the ’winter of fury’ in Europe fail to materialise, if the western democracies continue to stand firmly on the side of Ukraine and if a new Russian offensive proves unsuccessful. What is certain is that any negotiations and compromises will reflect the resulting balance of power between the parties. Our goal must therefore be to get Ukraine ready as well as possible for this point in time and to prepare together with Kyiv for the moment when the window for diplomacy indeed opens.

Russian Deputy Prime Minister Aleksandr Novak has announced that Russia’s production and exports of liquefied natural gas (LNG) rose by almost 9% to around 33 million tonnes (c. 46 bcm) in 2022. Most of the Russian LNG was produced at the Yamal LNG project (c. 20 million tonnes), whose main shareholders include Russia’s Novatek (50.1%), France’s TotalEnergies (20%) and China’s CNPC (20%) and the Silk Road Fund (9.9%). Nearly 15 million tonnes from this project went to Europe (up 14% y-o-y), and around 5 million tonnes were shipped to China. In addition, more than 10 million tonnes were produced in the Gazprom-controlled Sakhalin-2 project in the Russian Far East, an increase of 2% year-on-year. The main customers for this gas were Japan (the Japanese companies Mitsui and Mitsubishi are shareholders in the project) and China. According to Chinese customs data, a total of 6.5 million tonnes of LNG were shipped to the PRC from Russia in 2022, up from 5.7 million tonnes a year earlier. LNG is also being produced in two small-scale projects in the Leningrad region in the Baltic Sea. The Novatek-owned Vysotsk terminal produced around 700,000 tonnes and the Gazprom-owned Portovaya LNG produced around 350,000 tonnes. Gas from both projects was supplied to the European market. The deputy prime minister also asserted that Russia intends to deliver on its ambitious plans to double its LNG production in the next few years, and increase its LNG exports to 100 million tonnes in 2030 as a result. This would be achieved mainly through the development of Arctic LNG projects, including the Novatek-owned Arctic LNG 2. This expansion has been promised even though Russian production may decline in 2023 due to planned maintenance work on two (out of four) Yamal LNG production lines. CommentarylLNG was the only Russian fuel whose supplies to Europe increased in 2022. Consequently, the importance of LNG has increased both with regard to Russia’s exports (LNG accounted for 25% of all Russian gas supplied to the EU) and the EU’s imports (less 20% of the EU’s total LNG imports).lIt will be very difficult, if possible at all, to realise Russia’s ambitious plans for a robust increase in LNG production in the years to come. Forecasts from the Russian Ministry of Energy published in May 2022 showed that LNG production will be much lower than previously assumed. Under the current baseline scenario, LNG exports are projected to reach almost 31 million tonnes in 2023 and 35.7 million tonnes in 2024, compared to the previous target of over 50 million tonnes. lAs a result of sanctions following the Russian invasion of Ukraine, Russia’s LNG sector has been cut off from the Western technology and equipment which played a key role in the development of this sector. Many foreign companies (German, French, Spanish and others) have withdrawn from cooperation with Russia in this area; for example, one of the shareholders in Arctic LNG 2, France’s TotalEnergies (10%), has stopped investing in the project and started the process of completely withdrawing from the venture, which should be finalised in the first half of 2023. Nonetheless, the Russian authorities are insisting that they will manage to complete the construction of the first Arctic LNG 2 production line by December 2023 (about 90% of the work had already been done when the sanctions were introduced), and that the next two lines will also be put into operation according to the original schedule, that is, in 2024 and 2026. Leonid Mikhelson, the CEO of Novatek, has affirmed that the corporation has managed to purchase the necessary equipment by cooperating with companies from countries such as Turkey and the United Arab Emirates. Russian companies are also working on developing their own gas liquefaction technologies. At present, these are inefficient (the production lines are capable of producing a maximum of 1 million tonnes per year) and often fail. It is unlikely that Russia will be able to fully replace Western technologies and equipment by circumventing the sanctions or developing its own solutions. Indeed, the effectiveness of such efforts so far proven to be limited.  

As Russian troops withdraw from occupied Ukrainian villages and towns in the Kherson and Kharkiv regions, the military, forensic experts, and the world media are being shown the extent of Russian war crimes. In the 21st century, the Kyiv suburb of Butscha takes on a creepy meaning that was set for Auschwitz in the 20th century. Since April 2022, "Butscha" has not only become synonymous with the planned systematic extermination of people because of their membership in the Ukrainian community, but has also served to expose the cynicism of European elites who, over the past two decades, have turned a blind eye to the nature of the Russian regime and the practices of modern Russian statehood. Bluff about "civilized country" and "threat from the West" In February 2007, before the expiration of the second (as it turned out, not the last, although the Constitution of the Russian Federation did not provide for this) presidential term, Vladimir Putin sharply criticized the unilateral power politics of the United States at the Munich Security Conference. He said that the use of force in international relations is possible only on the basis of the UN Charter. He insisted that energy sources must not be used as weapons or means of extortion against consumers. He promised to create a free and open market economy in Russia, primarily with the help of Germany. At the same time, Putin denied that the opposition in Russia is brutally repressed; he did not admit that the rights of people in Chechnya are systematically violated through torture, murder, and kidnapping; he denied involvement in the transfer of missile technology to Iran and support for its nuclear program. All of this gave the impression that Russia's leadership wants to build an open and democratic country that pursues responsible and predictable policies and is ready for profitable, multi-billion dollar economic cooperation with its European neighbors. In return, Putin wanted "very little." First, the transformation of NATO from a defense alliance into a political organization in which European countries would conduct their policies independently of the United States. This is because, according to Putin, it is the United States that, by stationing its troops on the territory of countries that became NATO members after 1991, is fomenting a threat to Russian sovereignty and tensions throughout Europe. Second, Putin did not want European states to make the development of relations with Russia dependent on their assessment of the democratic or authoritarian character of the Russian regime. His assistant Vladislav Surkov even invented a special term - "sovereign democracy" - to justify Putin's authoritarianism and seduce Europeans with the prospect of Russia's slow democratic "evolution". Respect, equal treatment and security: demands of an autocrat In short, Putin demanded respect, equal treatment, and security. Aren't these the same principles on which NATO and the EU are based! By successfully manipulating these values and profitable economic deals, Putin achieved his goals. By February 24, 2022, many European politicians either shared the opinion that Russia was trustworthy because it was developing and liberalizing economically. Or they argued that Russia had a reason for threats and a show of force to protect its borders from NATO expansion. Putin forced European governments to turn a blind eye to the murder of tens of thousands of Chechens in 1994-2007. He managed to avoid condemnation and punishment for open aggression against Georgia in 2008. Even in 2014, he managed to get France and Germany to recognize his role as a "peacemaker" in the self-created "Ukraine crisis" and the hybrid war in the Donbass. In fact, the facts indicated that Russia began to move toward autocracy when Putin came to power. However, it was not even a party autocracy as in China, which provided for internal competition and relied on an extensive network of technocratic managers who adopted Western standards in this way or another. Putin, as president, began to restore the vertical of the KGB - the Soviet secret police and intelligence service that throughout its history viewed the democratic world as an existential enemy and a target for destruction. As a KGB apprentice, he naturally wanted revenge for the collapse of the USSR, which he considered his defeat. When Putin promised to build democracy and a market economy in Russia, he was bluffing. His calculation was based on the idea of the instability and corruption of the European political and business elites, who, for the sake of high and stable profits, will be willing to justify the "excesses" of the authorities and the "weakness" of Russian civil society. Neglecting his country for a perfidious vision When Putin pointed to the threat posed by NATO, he sought only a justification at home for constantly increasing spending on the army and defense industry, while neglecting the modernization of social and transport infrastructure in most regions of Russia. In foreign relations, Putin rewarded leaders and governments that were slow to implement common goals within NATO or promoted their national interests as opposed to pan-European or U.S. interests. This may explain how politicians as diverse as Silvio Berlusconi, Nicolas Sarkozy, Gerhard Schröder, Robert Fico, and Viktor Orbán managed to build long-term alliance relationships with the Kremlin. Despite the shock over Russia's lies and crimes that accompanied the aggression against Ukraine, Putin continues to actively use the old bluff about "normal Russia" and threatens retaliation for violation of "Russian security," which means control over Ukrainian territories. Putin's bluff is his declaration of occupied Ukrainian territories as Russian and the corresponding threat to defend them with nuclear weapons. Russian troops are fleeing the Kherson and Donbass regions with no sign of preparation to use weapons of mass destruction. Likewise, if Putin has to choose between withdrawing from Crimea and risking losing everything in a nuclear confrontation, he will choose to withdraw and retain his power. This is because Crimea is the same "integral part" of Russia as Kherson and Kharkiv oblast, from which the Russians are withdrawing as a result of military defeats. Putin, however, could be heading down a dangerous path of escalation if voices continue to be raised in Europe that his conquests must be recognized by the conclusion of a cease-fire. The Kremlin's calls for a willingness to negotiate are aimed at spreading uncertainty among European leaders about Russia's goals. This maneuver is being carried out to force everyone to suddenly turn a blind eye to mass executions, torture camps, and the bombing of peaceful Ukrainian cities in order to sow doubt that Russia is waging a war aimed at destroying an entire European nation. Putin again offers to believe that secure relations with the Russia he leads are possible if his demands are heeded. If the debate in Europe is resumed according to the logic imposed by Putin, he will use all means of terror to divide the continent and within individual states into the camps of "uncompromising" and "moderate". And without solidarity in Europe, it will be much easier for Russia to continue the war with impunity and ruthlessness. Even far beyond Ukraine. Russia hybrid means to divide Europe.At stake is trade in oil, coal, and natural gas. Since early 2021, Russia's Gazprom refused to supply gas to Europe beyond contracted volumes, artificially contributing to stock market speculation and price increases. This had a painful impact on household spending on municipal services. It also led to higher consumer prices due to more expensive electricity generated by burning Russian gas and fuel oil. Against a backdrop of public discontent, Russian intelligence services mobilized the Russian diaspora into spectacular protests in Germany and the Czech Republic and put forward the thesis of the "harmfulness" of anti-Russian EU sanctions. And such actions have a political impact. In France, Marine Le Pen actively criticized the renunciation of Russian energy sources and promised to maintain the purchase of oil from Russia if elected. In Italy, the "Lega" and "Forza Italia!" parties, which became part of the governing coalition, also opposed sanctions that hurt Italian industry. In Germany, the opposition parties "Alternative for Germany" and "The Left" expressed even more open theses about the need for "understanding" with Russia, for the sake of energy sources. The Kremlin is watching such processes closely, and they convince it that such a policy of division will bring the desired results. Russian efforts will be especially dangerous this winter. The ideology of the "Russian world" and the myth of the "Great Victory".Every year since the attack on Ukraine in 2014, the Russian president has justified his aggressive policy of conquest on the basis of Russia's special historical mission. It consists in restoring historical justice - the borders of the Russian state, which should unite all bearers of "traditional Russian values." These are the Russian language, the Orthodox faith, education in the traditions of Russian culture and literature. The Kremlin calls this bizarre combination the ideology of the "Russian world." Considering the fact that the Russian diaspora is currently manifesting itself very actively throughout Europe, from Italy and Germany to Latvia and Finland, this creates, in the view of the Russian leadership, a sufficient legitimate reason to spread measures of direct and hybrid aggression against new countries. And Putin constantly talks about the inevitability of a "multipolar world" in which Russia will be one of the "poles". While the fate of Europe, in his opinion, will be ruined by excessive American influence. That is why he often refers to the Yalta Conference in 1945, which made Stalin's Russia the owner of half of the European continent, while the other half was controlled by the Allies led by the United States. In relations with Europe, Putin wants to see himself not only as a "veto player," the leader of a "great power" that belongs to a narrow circle of its peers (the United States and the PRC) that have a decisive influence on world politics, but as a hegemon. As the ruler of a victorious state to which the others are grateful for their security and existence. Therefore, despite the defeats in Ukraine, he continues to say, "We haven't really started it yet." Obviously, Hitler and Stalin could have said the same thing when they invaded and divided Poland in September 1939 and prepared for new conflicts. So far, this history has a slim chance of repeating itself. 

Another important event on the international agenda was the Second Forum of Think Tanks "China + five countries of Central Asia", organized by: the Institute of Russia, Eastern Europe and Central Asia of the CASS, the Kazakhstan Institute for Strategic Studies under the President of the Republic of Kazakhstan, the National Institute for Strategic Studies under the President of the Kyrgyz Republic Republic, Center for Strategic Studies under the President of the Republic of Tajikistan, Institute of International Relations of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Turkmenistan, Institute for Strategic and Interregional Studies under the President of the Republic of Uzbekistan. The connecting link for all forum participants was the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences (CASS) with the support of the Institute of Russia, Eastern Europe and Central Asia of the CASS, the Secretariat of the Council of High-Level Think Tanks of the CASS and the All-China Association for the Study of Russia, Eastern Europe and Central Asia. The two-day program of the forum, which was held in a hybrid mode with a central communication platform in Beijing, included speeches of the heads of the above-mentioned structures, diplomatic missions, foreign ministers, the Secretary General of the Shanghai Cooperation Organization, who considered the most important issues on the “agenda” dedicated to the search for new ways and formats for joint development. The experts focused on various topical aspects, presenting their vision of how China's relations with each of the states of Central Asia and the region as a whole should develop at the present stage. As for our country, the rector of the Institute of International Relations of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Turkmenistan, Djumamurad Gurbangeldiyev, spoke about the state and prospects of Turkmen-Chinese cooperation, in particular, noting that the peaceful foreign policy successfully pursued under the leadership of President Serdar Berdimuhamedov, gaining momentum, contributes to the achievement of new frontiers in the system of international relations by Turkmenistan. In the modern era, the whole world respects the legal status of Turkmenistan's neutrality with great respect. Among the priority areas of the peace-loving policy and diplomacy implemented under the leadership of the head of state, a special role is given to relations with the states of the Asia-Pacific region. The People's Republic of China is one of the friendly partner states of Turkmenistan. The Turkmen and Chinese people are connected by historical, spiritual and cultural ties that originate from the depths of centuries. These common historical roots, the bonds of friendship that go deep into history, form the basis of the Turkmen-Chinese interstate cooperation, in which a special place is given to interaction in the scientific and educational sphere. An important role in the formation of new approaches of the parties to topical issues of international relations and cooperation between the states of the region with China is played by the accumulated experience in this area and the First Forum of Experts of Analytical Centers "China + Five Central Asian Countries" held in November 2021. The broad horizons for the development of partnership that are currently opening in accordance with the realities of modernity form new areas of cooperation between Turkmenistan and China. This is clear evidence of the success of our country's foreign policy strategy. The head of the Higher School of Diplomacy of Turkmenistan also focused on the fact that Hero-Arkadag, in his speech at the China + Five Central Asian Countries Summit held in January 2022, emphasized that it is the heads of states of Central Asia who are widely promoting strategically important proposals and initiatives for issues of world politics. In this context, it was emphasized that Central Asia is a region that attracts the attention of the whole world due to its huge natural resources and advantageous geographical location. In the system of international relations, the importance of the Central Asian region is growing due to the presence of large reserves, especially energy resources, favorable geopolitical and geo-economic advantages. At the end of the 20th century, the number of states interested in including the countries of Central Asia in the orbit of cooperation increased. This is confirmed by the fact that in the last 20 years the phrase "Central Asia +" has become widely used in political terminology. And the People's Republic of China, one of the first states that showed interest in this format, has the largest economy in the world, a great influential force in world geopolitics. The head of the Turkmen university, noting the features of the main directions of China's policy, emphasized that the foreign policy of the Celestial Empire, aimed at becoming a developed state of the world and based on ancient Chinese principles, implies the interest of this country in increasing influence in the world through cooperation. In supporting the international initiatives of the Central Asian countries aimed at ensuring peace, security and sustainable development in the region, the political assistance of China, which is a permanent member of the UN Security Council, is very necessary. The states of Central Asia are cooperating in the field of consolidating efforts in the field of security and countering terrorism with the Shanghai Cooperation Organization, established at the initiative of China. The speech also noted that the partnership of the countries of Central Asia with the People's Republic of China in the effective implementation of the new philosophy of the Hero-Arkadag "Dialogue is a guarantee of peace" in international life, aimed at eliminating the mutual distrust that has spread today in international relations, was of particular importance. It is no coincidence that energy is the key vector of the partnership between China + the five countries of Central Asia. As you know, a powerful Chinese economy requires a significant part of its energy capacities to be imported from outside. China attaches particular importance to Central Asia in providing its rapidly developing economy with guaranteed energy sources. In this context, a great success of Turkmen and at the same time Chinese diplomacy is the Turkmenistan-China gas pipeline project, built on the initiative of Hero-Arkadag in a very short time - just over two years - has become another clear evidence of Turkmenistan's commitment to the principle of using its energy resources for the benefit of all mankind. The development of the transport sector is also important. If China stands at the origins of the creation of the Great Silk Road, then Turkmenistan is its heart, the driving force. Within the framework of cooperation in the "China + five countries of Central Asia" format, given the new geopolitical, geo-economic reality of the III millennium, great importance is attached to the revival of the Great Silk Road. The project of the Hero-Arkadag "Revival of the Great Silk Road", designed to give a powerful impetus to the economic development of Eurasia, is closely interconnected in its philosophy and geo-economic content with the all-China project "One Belt - One Road". The already implemented and ongoing multilateral transport and transit projects coincide with the interests of the China + five countries of Central Asia interaction format. Continuing the topic related to the “China + five countries of Central Asia” format as a factor of strategic and regional stability, ensuring the sustainable development of friendly states in the new conditions, I would like to recall that at the beginning of the 2000s, many similar platforms for interaction appeared and took shape in the world. Nevertheless, in my opinion, as time and the realities of life have shown, today the China + Five Countries of Central Asia Project is one of the most famous, authoritative, multilateral formats with great prospects for development. And this is natural and logical, since the ties between the peoples of the Central Asian region and China have a long history. In the process of their long communication, a huge and unique experience of interaction, good neighborliness, exchange of knowledge and achievements in all areas of human life was accumulated. The Great Silk Road passed through the territory of Central Asia from China, which, by developing trade relations between countries, already then demonstrated the possibility of maintaining an atmosphere of calm and stability to the world, including in the territory of present-day Central Asia. And today we can say with full confidence that it was the reliance on this outstanding heritage, the continuity of historical destinies, that was embodied when the countries of the region, having gained independence, resumed active all-round relations with the People's Republic of China. Without a doubt, the current cooperation of all the countries of the region has a noticeable constructive impact on the provision of global peace and stability. It is based on the closeness and coincidence of approaches to fundamental issues on the global agenda. Together we stand for equality and justice in international affairs, respect for territorial integrity and non-interference in the affairs of sovereign states, for the implementation of the Sustainable Development Goals, we support the measures taken by the world community to effectively counter international terrorism, extremism and other challenges. Not so long ago, the states of the region celebrated the 30th anniversary of diplomatic relations with China. 30 years of mutual trust, friendship and close cooperation have shown that by adhering to the basic principles of mutual respect, good neighborliness, friendship, mutual assistance and mutual benefit, China and the countries of Central Asia have been able to build healthy and effective interstate relations of a new type. Today, the world is undergoing changes not seen in a century. The structure of international politics and economics is undergoing profound changes and needs to be adjusted. Geopolitical conflicts, disordered global governance create new challenges for development both globally and regionally. Under these conditions, the presence of objective mutual interests of the Central Asian countries and China in line with the China + Five Central Asian countries partnership format on a practical basis opens up additional opportunities for increasing the pace of effective cooperation. Using their huge potential, the countries of this alliance set a course for the modernization of the mechanism of mutual cooperation in the format "China + five countries of Central Asia". It from the moment of its appearance as a specific body for the comprehensive rapprochement of the Central Asian countries, has been and remains an important factor in the stable development of the region. Further cooperation within its framework will improve the well-being of the peoples and significantly raise the standard of living. I am sure that all the states of the region, using their authority and established cooperation mechanisms, will be able to make an important joint contribution to establishing a new agenda of peace and trust in international affairs, reducing tension, de-escalating conflicts, moving to dialogue and negotiation methods for resolving disputes and contradictions based on the UN Charter.

IntroductionDuring a break in the COVID-19 pandemic, the foreign ministers of China, Russia, Japan and the United States boosted Mongolia into international headlines. Returning from the Shanghai Cooperation Organization meeting in Moscow, for instance, Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi stopped in Ulaanbaatar (15–16 September) with a message: Do not take sides with China’s competitors if Mongolia wants to rely on the Chinese economic powerhouse. Within the week, Mongolian Foreign Minister Enkhtaivan Nyamtseren was invited by Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov to meet on short notice. Even though the ministers jointly announced the finalization of a treaty on the permanent comprehensive strategic partnership, the Kremlin showed its will to lead trilateral economic projects (such as a gas pipeline) with China and impose the Eurasian Economic Union agenda on Mongolia. Then on 29 September, the United States Secretary of State Michael Pompeo announced the inclusion of Mongolia in his trip to visit allies in East Asia—Japan and the Republic of Korea.2 Although the trip was ultimately cancelled due to an outbreak of COVID-19 cases among White House officials, Pompeo talked by telephone with President Battulga Khaltmaa and highlighted their shared commitment to democracy and regional security. A few days later, Japanese Foreign Minister Toshimitsu Motegi, considered a key insider of then Prime Minister Shinzo Abe’s geopolitics, flew to Ulaanbaatar. In addition to updating the strategic partnership plan until 2022, the Japanese Foreign Minister’s interests centred on Mongolia’s inclusion in the Free and Open Indo-Pacific strategy. Mongolia has declared strategic partnerships with each of these great powers and is thus entering a complicated geopolitical setting. It is not entirely new. A similar scene occurred in the summer of 1991. Chinese President Yang Shangkun, Japanese Prime Minister Toshiki Kaifu and the United States Secretary of State James Baker each visited Mongolia within a month’s time. China wanted agreement to non-interference in its internal affairs, whereas Japan and the United States imposed non-reversal conditionality on Mongolia’s democratic transition to receive much-needed economic assistance. The primary difference then was the absence of Russia. This policy paper discusses the renewed geopolitical rivalries of the great powers, explains Mongolia’s challenges to manoeuvring in this tough geopolitical terrain and then proposes pursuit of a pragmatic, neutral foreign policy option similar to Finland’s strategic concessions to its neighbouring great power, the Soviet Union.Renewed geopolitical rivalriesThe great power competition also is nothing new. Even after the Cold War, China, Japan, Russia and the United States were watching each other suspiciously while avoiding unnecessary tension. In the 1990s, policymakers and academics in Japan, Russia, and the United States debated over the China threat and the consequences of China’s economic rise. Russian leaders, such as Foreign Minister and later Prime Minister Yevgeny Primakov and President Vladimir Putin, sought ways to balance with the United States and to integrate into the European economic and security framework. It was not a surprise when Putin hinted at Russia’s inclusion in the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) because the country was already supporting American military operations in Afghanistan. Similarly, in 2000, the United States Congress mandated its Defense Department to report annually on China’s security strategy and military development. China and Japan had similar outlooks. China was wary of the United States, whereas Japan remained vigilant of both China and Russia. In the mid-2000s, all these countries reassessed their long-term geopolitical and economic objectives as the geopolitical setting began to shift. With similar geopolitical concerns about American strategies, China and Russia advanced their partnership by conducting an annual joint military exercise (Peace Mission, beginning in 2005) and even demanded the withdrawal of American forces from Central Asia. When the United States proposed another round of NATO’s expansion into Ukraine and Georgia and new missile defence systems in the Czech Republic and Poland, Russia quickly reacted. This resulted in a brief military conflict with Georgia in 2008. Following the breakdown with Europe, Russia began pursuing policies to reassert its influence in former Soviet republics through the Eurasian Economic Union as well as the Collective Security Treaty Organization. China and Russia jointly strengthened the Shanghai Cooperation Organization and created a new bloc with Brazil, Russia, India and South Africa (BRICS) for collaborating on major geopolitical issues. From 2012, the great power rivalries intensified. Chinese President Xi Jinping renounced the “hide and bide” principle of Deng Xiaoping by pledging that China would take an active role in global politics. A year later, China unveiled a new grand strategy, known as the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), to invest in infrastructure that increases global connectivity. Chinese leaders explained that the BRI is a “win–win” developmental initiative. The ambitions and ambiguity of the BRI, however, immediately raised geopolitical concern from all the great powers, as if China was about to reshape the global and regional order for its geopolitical advantage. For example, building on its earlier strategy (Pivot to East Asia), the United States launched a series of measures to contain China. It endorsed Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe’s quadrilateral security dialogue (for the alliance of Japan, India, Australia and the United States) and strengthened ties with India, Myanmar, Singapore and Vietnam, all of whom are cautious of China’s economic and military powers. Meanwhile, in 2014, Russia annexed Crimea and intervened in Eastern Ukraine, based on its geopolitical concerns for Ukraine’s potential membership in NATO. Then, in 2015, Russia deployed its military to Syria to check the United States’ interventions while declaring its strategic partnership with China. In response, the United States cited China and Russia as the biggest threats in its National Defense Strategy (2018), which is the country’s long-term strategic defense document.6 The American Defense Department released its Indo–Pacific Strategy Report, and the State Department defined its Free and Open Indo–Pacific vision. Both documents prioritized containing China’s growing economic and military power in the Indo–Pacific region. In addition to sanctions against China and Russia, the United States pressured its allies to ban Chinese telecommunication companies from participating in the development of the 5G network. In contrast, Russia welcomed the Chinese telecommunication giant—Huawei—to develop its 5G network and pledged to develop Chinese missile defence capabilities. This new round of great power rivalries is changing the geopolitical setting for a small State like Mongolia.Challenges for MongoliaThe primary challenge for Mongolia is to maintain its sovereignty. For centuries, geography has dictated the country’s fate as a classic buffer State between two expansionist and rival great powers—China and Russia. While serving the Kremlin’s geopolitical interests from 1921 to 1986, Mongolia gained United Nations membership and its independence from China. During this period, Mongolia remained under close control of the Kremlin and became a militarized buffer State whenever Russian geopolitical interests were threatened. The Kremlin deployed its military three times: in 1921, 1936 and 1960. Following the Sino– Soviet rapprochement and the collapse of the Soviet Union, Mongolia normalized its relations with China and developed new ties with the United States and its allies. In the 1990s, Mongolia did not experience any geopolitical pressure from the great powers and firmly declared a series of neutrality policies. At the time, Mongolia’s two neighbours were preoccupied with maintaining their domestic matters and also coping with security concerns elsewhere. The United States and Japan focused on Mongolia’s political and economic transition while explicitly avoiding developing security ties. In that period, Mongolia adopted a series of neutrality policies: the constitutional prohibition on foreign military transition and basing, a non-aligned foreign policy stance, declaration of a nuclear weapon-free zone and bilateral treaties with all the great powers, with a “against no third party” principle. In this favourable geopolitical context, Mongolia increased Its engagement with international and regional organizations and sought ways to attract the interests of so-called “third neighbours”. The most important endeavour was its military deployment in support of American operations in Iraq, when China and Russia were strongly opposing the United States war in Iraq. Then, Mongolia deployed its military to Kosovo and Afghanistan. This military contribution resulted in close political and defence ties with the United States and NATO members as of 2003. The other endeavour was the conclusion of an investment agreement with Anglo–Australian mining giant Rio Tinto and Canadian Ivanhoe Mines to develop the Oyu Tolgoi copper and gold deposit. These endeavours triggered reactions from China and Russia. China’s security experts cautioned Mongolia’s inclusion in the American “strategic encirclement” of China, whereas Russia was wary of losing its geopolitical privileges in Mongolia to NATO members. China and Russia jointly pressured Mongolia to join the Shanghai Cooperation Organization. As a result, Mongolia became an observer in 2005. Since then, Russia has taken assertive action to secure its geopolitical and geo-economic interests in critical areas such as railway construction, the energy sector and uranium mining. To be clear, neither China nor Russia attempted in this period to influence Mongolia’s domestic politics, especially its elections. Now all these great powers want to include Mongolia in their competing geopolitical visions. China declared a comprehensive strategic partnership in 2014 and included Mongolia as one of six economic corridors of the BRI. Beijing leaders hope that Mongolia will join the Shanghai Cooperation Organization to fulfil its regionalization strategy of Central Asia. They also want Mongolia to commit to non-intervention in its internal affairs, especially in matters related to Tibet, Xinjiang, Hong Kong, Taiwan and Inner Mongolia, in return for economic assistance and market access. In 2019, Russia quickly upgraded its strategic partnership with conclusion of a permanent treaty, which imposed Mongolia’s adherence to the Russian geopolitical agenda. Specifically, the treaty prioritizes bilateral consultations, renews defence technical cooperation and requires Mongolia’s adherence to the 1,520 mm (Russian standard railway gauge) for the railway extension. As hinted by some Russian officials, the Kremlin even dreams of Mongolia’s inclusion in the Eurasian Economic Union and the Collective Security Treaty Organization, considering how Mongolia is traditionally wary of Chinese expansion. The United States and Japan have included Mongolia in their Free and Open Indo–Pacific strategy because Mongolia shares similar values (democracy, human rights) and security concerns regarding China and Russia. Interestingly, the American Pentagon’s Indo–Pacific Strategy (June 2019) identified Mongolia as a “reliable, capable and natural partner of the United States,” while designating Mongolia’s two neighbours as the biggest security threats: China as a revisionist power and Russia a revitalized Malign Actor. The American State Department’s Free and Open Indo–Pacific visionary document highlights Mongolia as one of the beneficiaries and supporters of its strategy. Japan also included Mongolia in its Partnership for Quality Infrastructure (PQI), a developmental assistance alternative to China’s BRI, and designated a new international airport and railway flyover (Sun Bridge) in Ulaanbaatar as PQI projects. Like many small States, Mongolia’s challenge is determining how to manoeuvre in this round of great power competitions without compromising its sovereignty and undermining its institutions of democratic governance.Options for MongoliaIdeally, the best option for Mongolia is to maintain friendly ties with all the great powers and to benefit economically as it sits at the merging point of different geopolitical strategies. In fact, this has been the case to a certain degree. Mongolia’s nuclear weapon-free zone status has been endorsed by all permanent members of the United Nations Security Council. The country’s peacekeeping efforts, whether military deployments or hosting training events, have been supported by all the involved great powers. Both China and Japan have aided in road development, such as with the Chinese-built Moon Bridge (BRI funding) and the Japanese Sun Bridge (PQI project) in the capital city. At the moment, China and the United States are assisting to improve the capital city’s water supply and infrastructure. Hopefully, China and Russia will construct a natural gas pipeline through Mongolia, which would increase trilateral economic cooperation. Current trends, however, force a consideration of the likelihood of consequences in the worst- and best-case scenarios. The most likely worst-case scenario has China alone or together with Russia entering into conflict with the United States. This circumstance would force Mongolia to limit its relations with the United States and even to stand with its neighbours against the United States and its allies. The other worst-case scenario, which is less likely at the moment, is the emergence of Sino–Russian geopolitical tension. This would create the direst situation, in which Mongolia could easily fall into the control of either neighbour or become a battleground. The best-case scenarios are also possible and would create a favourable overarching setting for Mongolia to manoeuvre and maintain its sovereignty. The best-case scenarios have all the great powers seeking strategic stability because they are intertwined with domestic challenges or geopolitically distracted elsewhere. In all these scenarios, the primary objective for Mongolian leaders would remain the same—to maintain sovereignty and independence. However, Mongolia’s options to maintain its sovereignty are limited. First, it is a regionless country. Therefore, it cannot rely on any regional security alliance, such as NATO or the Collective Security Treaty Organization. The only close alliance is the Shanghai Cooperation Organization, but Mongolia is wary of jeopardizing its sovereignty if it joins. Second, it is impossible for leaders in Ulaanbaatar to gain security guarantees from one or several of the great powers, with the possible exception of Russia. Leaders in Washington and Tokyo are not likely to make any such deal as with the Philippines or Taiwan. Mongolia is too cautious of losing its sovereignty to Russia and provoking China by renewing the mutual defence clause with Russia. Lastly, Mongolia is too economically poor to build its defence capabilities in a way that is similar to Singapore, Switzerland and the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. Therefore, the most suitable option would be to make strategic concessions to the great powers following the example of the Finnish experience during the Cold War. This option requires that Mongolia avoid joining in the security alliance of any great power, just as Finland avoided joining NATO and the Warsaw Pact. In this sense, Mongolia should not attempt to upgrade its current level of confidence-building security defence relations with members of NATO, the Collective Security Treaty Organization and, potentially, the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (if it turns into a regional security organization). In regard to the Free and Open Indo– Pacific, Mongolia should limit its security cooperation to specific areas: peacekeeping, humanitarian assistance, disaster relief and defence diplomacy. This type of neutrality policy would also require Mongolia to abstain from taking any stance on controversial matters related to its neighbours and their geopolitical competitors. Such avoidance would help Mongolia to promote itself as a neutral place for all great powers to negotiate, such as the Finnish model of the Helsinki process. At the same time, Mongolia should strengthen its democratic governance: the parliamentary system, civil society and the rule of law. Democratic governance would distinguish Mongolia’s identity within the authoritarian great powers and ensure self-rule free from those great powers. One of the downsides of this type of neutral, pragmatic strategy, however, is its limit on participation in foreign policy decision-making processes. This requires that only professional diplomats handle foreign policy matters while encouraging informed public discourse. In return for this neutral policy, Mongolia would expect the great powers to respect its sovereignty and restrain any actions to influence its policies.ConclusionWhen the foreign ministers of the great powers gave some attention to Mongolia in the fall of 2020, Mongolia reacted with proactive diplomacy amid the pandemic. On 29 February, Mongolian President Battulga became the first foreign dignitary to visit China during the pandemic and extended a gift of 30,000 sheep as a goodwill gesture. On 21 June, the Mongolian airline, MIAT, conducted a long-awaited flight to North America and delivered more than US$1 million worth of assistance and 60,000 personal protective equipment to the United States. On June 24th, despite Russia having the second highest number of coronavirus cases, the Mongolian military marched in the Victory Day Parade, marking the 75th anniversary of the Soviet victory in the Second World War, in which Mongolia stood as a close ally. As with the proactive diplomacy, the renewed geopolitical tensions among the great powers will require unity, patience and deft diplomacy from Mongolian leaders to steer through the rough sea.

President Volodymyr Zelenskyy of Ukraine and President Vladimir Putin of Russia are two very different leaders. The way in which each defines a national identity shapes their leadership and sectors of support.      As we pass one year since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, attention is fixed on how the war in Ukraine will unfold this year. What happens in 2023 will have implications not only for Ukraine and Russia but for the international order more broadly. One factor that has influenced the trajectory of war so far, and is likely to continue to do so in 2023, is the distinct leadership styles of President Zelenskyy and President Putin. Zelenskyy and Putin could not be more different as leaders. Putin leads a personalist autocracy, having risen through the ranks of the Russian security services to claim the presidency in 2000. Zelenskyy, a newcomer to both politics and government, was freely elected in competitive elections in 2019. Putin leads in the style of nationalist-populist leaders. He has slowly but consistently tightened his grip on power since his first electoral success in 2000, shaping Russia into an electoral autocracy. Putin is very much a man of his generation. At 70 years old, he grew up and established himself during the time of the Soviet Union and now surrounds himself with advisors of a similar or more advanced age. He is very far from media savvy, reportedly not even owning a smart phone. Zelenskyy, on the other hand, is a master of media communications, having operated as an actor and comedian before becoming president. Also a man of his generation at 45 years old, Zelenskyy forged a media career in the post-Soviet world of the emerging democracy of Ukraine. A self-made comedian and media personality, he is a part of Ukraine’s dynamic and entrepreneurial civil society.National identity: A glorious past or a bright future?A key factor that distinguishes Zelenskyy and Putin as leaders is the way in which they draw on national identity in their leadership. For Putin, Russia’s national identity is static and homogenous. There is one acceptable version of Russian identity; variations are considered deviant and a threat. For Zelenskyy, Ukraine’s national identity is dynamic and inclusive. The unifying elements of Putin’s vision of national identity are specific communal factors: shared language, history, religion, culture, or ethnicity. For Putin, such elements create a common bond and a common purpose among those who possess them. In 2021 Putin stated: “Russians, Ukrainians, and Belarusians are all descendants of Ancient Rus… bound together by one language…, economic ties, the rule of the princes of the Rurik dynasty, and – after the baptism of Rus – the Orthodox faith… we are one people.” For Putin, this idea of an exceptional nation simultaneously evokes Russian entitlement based on past glory, as well as Russia’s victimhood and humiliation at the hands of foreign enemies. Putin’s popularity “is tied to the idea of reanimating Russia’s past to reinstate the country’s greatness.” In 2022, Putin praised the conquests of the historical Russian ruler Peter the Great as returning to Russia what was “rightfully” hers. At the same time, for Putin, Russia’s greatness is under threat from the West. By contrast, Zelenskyy himself brings together the fractured components of Ukrainian identity in his own person. He is a Russian-speaking Ukrainian born in the east of the country who embodies a strong Ukrainian identity that is distinct from a Russian one. In Zelenskyy’s words: “[Ukrainians] are all different. They fight wearing the cross, the crescent, the star of David. Lads from Western Ukraine and from the south-east. Russian speakers from Kharkiv and Kryvyi Rih and Ukrainaian speakers from Ternopil and Ivano-Frankivsk… All different. All Ukrainians.” The unifying element of Zelenskyy’s national identity is a focus on the human striving for freedom and dignity. This factor also constitutes a universal element – uniting Ukrainians with others who share these values. In contrast to Putin, for Zelenskyy, history is not used to illustrate a glorious and longed-for past, but rather to show that the human drive for freedom can triumph over oppression to create a brighter future. As Zelenskyy stated to the UK parliament in February 2023: “[Both of] our people went through crises and growth, inflation, and periods of social losses and social gains. It was tough but we always found strength and stamina to move ahead and achieve results… We know freedom will win… We proved together that the world truly helps those who are brave in defending freedom. And thus, paves the way for a new history.”Does national identity galvanise support?Ultimately, military outcomes will be decisive in determining whether and how the war might conclude this year. However, Putin and Zelenskyy’s distinct imaginings of national identity contribute to galvanising support with audiences domestically and across the world. Domestically, Putin’s static and homogenous national identity appeals to those for whom it provides certainty and belonging to a specific idea of what it means to be Russian. For this segment of the Russian population, the ongoing war only serves to reinforce Russia’s entitlement to territorial control beyond its borders, as well as the looming spectre of humiliation at the hands of the West. This constituency will not lose faith in Putin’s war in 2023. However, if Russia fails militarily, these supporters may grow dissatisfied with the outcome, if not the war itself. Globally, Putin’s emphasis on the West as Russia’s central opponent will further isolate Russia from Western countries. However, Putin’s assertion of a homogenous identity does appeal to groups who conceptualise their own identity in a similar way within their own context. Additionally, Putin’s narrative of Russian victimhood by the West resonates in countries that are uncomfortable with a US-led global order or have an enduring historical memory of Western colonialism. Nevertheless, given Putin’s emphasis on Russian particularism, this is more likely to create tacit acceptance of Russia’s actions than stir costly action in support of Russia’s war. Domestically, Zelenskyy’s dynamic and inclusive Ukrainian identity, with an emphasis on the striving for freedom, appeals to broad swaths of the Ukrainian population – and aligns with the sense of purpose felt by those fighting on the frontlines. This is unlikely to change in 2023. As Russia doubles down on asserting its self-proclaimed right to control Ukraine, the idea of freedom and agency become ever more galvanising. Beyond Ukraine, Zelenskyy’s emphasis on a common human striving for freedom as a basis for identity invites others who align with this notion to rally alongside Ukraine. This will continue to boost support for Ukraine in established democracies – but also beyond, in places where populations or leaders resonate with a smaller state fighting against a stronger one to determine its own political and social reality. In the coming months we are likely to see military escalation between Ukraine and Russia. A less-visible factor that will contribute to the trajectory of this conflict is whether Putin and Zelenskyy’s distinct articulations of national identity will maintain traction with their respective constituencies. Will Putin’s homogenous and static national identity, that harks back to a time of historical glory, continue to appeal – or will it fracture if Russian glory on the battlefield falls short? Will Zelenskyy continue to be able to unify the diverse aspects of Ukrainian society into a coherent whole – and will this unity hold past his leadership? The answer to these questions will shape the societal impacts of this war – in both Ukraine and Russia – long after the fighting has ceased.

The meeting of Russian President Vladimir Putin and Chinese leader Xi Jinping in Moscow helped both give the impression of a united front, but underlying tensions were also discernible. What did the summit achieve for each side?With the pomp of a state visit, Russian President Vladimir Putin and Chinese leader Xi Jinping shined a spotlight on their ­growing strategic alignment, which is aimed at upending the U.S.-led, rules-based international order in favor of a multipolar world. Long on symbolism, short on concrete substance, the summit nevertheless served both leaders’ purposes. Putin welcomed the demonstration that Russia was not, and could not be, isolated on the world stage, as it deepened relations with one of the world’s two superpowers. By showcasing burgeoning commercial ties and unveiling plans to expand them, Putin conveyed confidence that Russia can remain resilient in the face of harsh Western sanctions.      Meanwhile, Xi’s decision to make Moscow his first foreign visit of his third term as president underscored his strong commitment to Russia and to Putin personally. He used the summit to underscore China’s determination to pursue its national interests in defiance of mounting U.S. economic and diplomatic pressure—making the point that China will not abandon its strategic partner in pushing back against U.S. pretensions to global leadership. That was a crucial message for his increasingly nationalistic domestic audience, as well as for the Global South, where the U.S.-led liberal order is under stress. At the same time, Xi subtly let it be known that China is the dominant partner. Putin had little choice but to accept Xi’s proposal that Russia use the yuan, not the ruble, in trade with the Global South to diminish the role of the U.S. dollar in world trade. Xi also gratuitously endorsed Putin for reelection in 2024, even though the Russian president has not declared his intention to run. And at the joint press availability at the end of the summit, Xi was much more restrained in his description of bilateral relations than was Putin, who was eager to lay out all the areas in which the two countries would enhance cooperation in the years ahead. That left the clear impression that Russia needed China much more than China needed Russia.What does the summit mean for the war in Ukraine?Nothing at the summit suggested that the underlying dynamic in the war was about to change. As expected, Beijing continued to provide Moscow with strong diplomatic support, echoing the latter’s narrative blaming the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) for the conflict. Despite Washington’s fears, however, Xi gave no indication that China was ready to provide lethal military aid that might radically improve Russia’s chances on the battlefield. Putin noted that China’s recently released 12-point peace plan could serve as a basis for negotiations, but neither he nor Xi suggested any practical steps that might give substance to what is largely a list of bromides about respecting sovereignty, avoiding escalation, and seeking a diplomatic solution. The reality is that China benefits from the military stalemate. Russia’s aggression distracts U.S. attention and resources from the Indo-Pacific region, while Western sanctions compel Russia to turn to China as an economic lifeline. China exploits Russia’s predicament to gain access to critical natural resources, especially oil and gas, at discounted prices.  In line with this calculus, Xi provided Putin with sufficient moral and material support so that he could continue the fight, but much less than needed to give Russia the advantage. At the same time, the Chinese continued to drive hard commercial bargains. Notably, no deal was announced to build a second Power of Siberia gas pipeline, which Putin has described as “the deal of the century.” Rather, it was simply noted that further details needed to be negotiated, as China explores alternatives.What does it reveal about the underlying tensions between China and Russia?Except for a brief period after the Communist takeover of China in 1949, China and Russia have been rivals, not partners. Until the end of the Cold War, Russia was by far the superior power.   The dynamic changed dramatically after 1991. Then, the two countries’ economies were roughly the same size. Now, China’s economy is ten times larger, and the gap continues to widen.  Moreover, China now casts a much larger shadow on the global stage: it has overtaken Russia in the development of advanced technology and its conventional military is comparable to Russia’s, even as it is moving toward nuclear parity with both Russia and the United States. What once could have been seen as a roughly equal partnership has evolved to the point where Russia is decidedly the junior partner. Despite the rhetoric of comprehensive partnership and avowals from Putin and Xi that relations have never been better, this asymmetry in power and ambition is in itself a source of friction, in addition to the civilizational clashes, racial prejudices, territorial grievances, and geopolitical competition that have strained relations in the past. But these sources of tension are currently far outweighed by the shared challenge from the United States. Washington’s current policy of dual containment only reinforces their strategic alignment and pushes the tensions further into the background.

In 1948, the Treaty of Friendship, Cooperation, and Mutual Assistance was signed between the Soviet Union and Finland, providing a key basis for relations between the two states that was to last throughout the cold war. With memories of the 1939 “winter war” between the two still acute, the agreement embodied the Paasikivi–Kekkonen doctrine, named for two of Finland’s post-war presidents who developed the idea between 1946 and 1982 of a neutral Finland close to the USSR. It also set the context for the term “Finlandisation” used by international relations scholars to describe external interference by a powerful country in the foreign policy of a smaller neighbouring state. A year later, on April 4 1949, the North Atlantic Treaty was signed by the 12 founding members of Nato. Throughout the cold war, Finland remained a neutral state – although more due to circumstance than by choice. And despite its 1,340km (832 mile) border with Russia, it chose not to join Nato in the late 1990s, even as many of its eastern European neighbours did. It officially abandon its policy of neutrality in 1994, joining Nato’s Partnership for Peace and then the European Union in 1995. But aspirations to become a full Nato member state had not quite matured. That all ended with Russia’s second invasion of Ukraine in February 2022. Finland (and Sweden) submitted their formal applications to join the alliance on May 18 2022 and this was endorsed by Nato members at the most recent summit in Madrid in June. Although accession to Nato membership was relatively quick, there were objections from some members, most notably Turkey and, to a lesser extent, Hungary. Turkey held up membership for Finland – and is still doing so for Sweden – due to its concerns over what it called support for terrorist groups, namely the Kurdistan Workers’ party (PKK). Hungary also raised objections due to what it regarded as criticism by the Nordic states with regard to the strength of Hungarian democracy. But Nato chief Jens Stoltenberg said recently he is confident that Sweden could become a member by summer.View from MoscowIf Putin was hoping to achieve the Finlandisation of Nato as one of his strategic aims of the war, what he has actually achieved was the “Natoisation” of Finland since it has now become the alliance’s 31st member state. With this comes Article 5 guarantees – the an attack on one member is an attack on the alliance as a whole and must be responded to as such. This fundamentally changes the defence and security posture of Finland, and European security architecture as a whole. Implications include the size and geographical focus of the alliance (even more so if Sweden joins in the not-too-distant future) as well as inter-organisational relations between Nato and the EU, the other key pillar of the European security architecture. And Finland is not playing catch up in order to meet its Nato commitments. In fact, Finland will be a net contributor to the alliance’s overall collective defence. Over recent years, it has been modernising its armed forces, purchasing robust military capabilities and, unlike the majority of member states, it meets the Nato target of 2% of GDP spent on its own defence. Putin has, of course, issued warnings to Finland (and Sweden) about joining the alliance. In 2016, Putin stated that “When we look across the border now, we see a Finn on the other side. If Finland joins Nato, we will see an enemy.” Although there have been mixed signals with regard to Russia’s views on the sovereign right of Finland to join a collective defence organisation if it so chooses (although Russia does not extend this position to Ukraine itelf), it is gravely concerned that Nato will position military capabilities in Finland, on its border – and close to Russia’s own strategically important bases and geography. Although Russia is very much focused on correcting its strategic blunders in Ukraine, it will at some stage begin to recover and, therefore, reconstitute its armed forces and military posture. Of particular concern could be Russia’s increased dependency on its tactical nuclear posture to offset its (temporarily) decreased capacity with regard to conventional capabilities. Although we do not know what the future holds, given both the duration and eventual outcome of the war, Russia will continue to have security concerns. And now it has a border with Nato that will run from the High North down to the Black Sea and beyond. This is guaranteed to lock in continued tensions between the alliance and Russia for years to come. Nato fundamentally thinks of itself as a collective defence organisation, with (nuclear) deterrence as its core strength. Russia will continue to see the alliance as a key stalwart undermining its threat perceptions and ability to affect its own near abroad. So as the Finnish flag is raised at Nato HQ in Brussels, It would be naive to think that Russia will not respond – even if its power to do so is currently somewhat diminished.

In 2023, Russia faces three crucial issues—President Vladimir Putin’s plans for his future, the battle between the hawks and pragmatists in the elite, and looming government personnel changes—that could reshape the country.  More than ten months on from the invasion of Ukraine, the contrast between the scale of the external shocks faced by Russia and the relative inertia inside the country is striking. Despite military failings and punishing sanctions, most Russians have gone on with their lives as though nothing is happening, while the elites have tried not to think about what tomorrow may bring, instead putting their full trust in Putin. However, 2023 could prove a dramatic year for Russia and be make-or-break for its leadership’s resistance to change, with three internal questions in particular promising to shape the country’s development for decades to come.  First, Putin will have to decide whether to run for re-election in 2024. Russia’s constitution was amended in 2020 to allow him to remain president until 2036. He may alternatively name a successor, though to leave enough time for campaigning, he would have to do so by the end of December 2023. For now, no one is sure what his plans are. This is by design, as Putin prefers to keep his elites in the dark. Indeed, in the summer of 2020, he justified the constitutional changes that made it possible to extend his rule as a guard against unrest among the elites, who he said “need to work, not look around for successors.” Following the revision of the constitution, both the presidential administration and elites operated on the assumption that Putin would hold on to power indefinitely. Today, the key question is how his calculations have been changed by the war and, in particular, the fact that it has not gone according to plan. Some believe that in unleashing grave problems and threats, the war has strengthened Putin’s resolve to stay in power beyond 2024. Given his contempt for “political deserters”—those who quit their posts in tough times—he is unlikely to become one of them. Others feel that not only is Putin open to giving up power, he may see doing so as part of a solution to the conflict with Ukraine. Even if that appears to be wishful thinking, part of the elite clearly hopes that such a reset will suffice to end Russia’s recent string of setbacks. However, both sides lack certainty about his designs. In any case, Putin is famously fond of making decisions at the eleventh hour, often based on situational factors and in defiance of popular expectations. The 2024 problem, then, has become a major source of anxiety for the elites. It will do more than any other issue to influence the events of 2023, as the political class tries to work out Putin’s intentions and plan around them with an eye to minimizing risk. A second, related issue is the growing schism between those in the elites who favor escalating the war, and those who warn against doing so. This divide emerged after Russia’s withdrawal from the Kharkiv region and relinquishing of the key city of Kherson, and was fueled by Ukraine’s strike on the bridge to Crimea, the referendums held on annexing occupied parts of Ukraine, and the authorities’ subsequent ambiguity on what Russia’s official borders are.  The pragmatists, who consist of technocrats as well as mid-ranking officials in the military and the security services, are united in their conviction that the war should be paused and rethought, and that the country should opt for a more realistic policy in keeping with its rather limited capacities. The hawks call for Russia to not only unleash its full military might against Ukraine, but also to radically restructure its own political and economic system. The latter plank makes theirs a revolutionary faction (albeit pro-Putin, for now at least) whose aim is to supplant a government they see as stalled. Their struggle for supremacy is set to be one of 2023’s key political fights, and one that hinges largely on events on the battlefield: the worse Russia performs militarily, the more vicious the pragmatists’ battle with the hawks. The Kremlin will find its preferred mechanism for suppressing dissent—repression—ill-fitting if used against the regime’s loyalists. The hawks will take the offensive, targeting the military brass and politicians, as Yevgeny Prigozhin, the notorious head of the Wagner private military company, already has. The pragmatists, meanwhile, will express doom and gloom about the direction of the conflict, seeking to scale back Moscow’s war goals and force recognition that victory is impossible. Their message will be well received by non-military elites, who were taken by surprise by the invasion and fear its medium-term consequences. All this leaves Russia stuck between military madness and careful consideration of a possible de-escalation, and Putin faced with a choice: between doubling down on his quixotic pursuit of Kyiv’s decisive defeat and returning to the negotiating table, with the West if not Ukraine. The third key issue Russia faces in 2023 revolves around government personnel changes, which are highly likely, even if it is hard to predict who will replace whom. One reason a reshuffle is near-certain is the increasing demand at the top for dynamism and effectiveness. Putin’s inclination to invite technocrats into the government may grow further, with senior figures in the cabinet, the presidential administration, and the power structures all aged and exhausted by the war and military failings forcing Putin to look for new ideas. Another is the coming presidential contest, given the historical record: reshuffles have preceded all but one of Russia’s presidential elections. A long buildup of tension within the government offers another reason to expect personnel changes. Defense Minister Sergey Shoigu and Chief of the General Staff Valery Gerasimov are being blamed for corruption within the armed forces, while the FSB has been slammed for intelligence failures. Security Council Deputy Chairman Dmitry Medvedev is seen as having lost the plot altogether, and Moscow Mayor Sergey Sobyanin as too apolitical, while central bank governor Elvira Nabiullina is suspected of secretly opposing the war. The government’s senior figures are all dissatisfied with each other: a mutual dislike that gives Putin cause to switch things up. Still, his conservatism and apprehensiveness when it comes to firing underlings will likely lead him to try to strike a balance between stability and renewal.  These fateful developments will be profoundly influenced by events on the battlefield. If, as Kyiv has predicted, Russia attempts a large-scale offensive in February or March, it will likely be met with significant Ukrainian resistance. Otherwise, Moscow will continue slowly strangling Ukraine with attacks on its infrastructure, to which Kyiv will respond with diversionary attacks on Russian soil. Russian political life will remain in the grip of the war’s grim and oppressive atmosphere, leaving elites even more anxious and fearful of the future. Putin’s hypersecrecy and refusal to explain himself to anyone will do nothing to help the situation. Repression will undoubtedly grow, with all dissent criminalized, elements of a state ideology introduced, and new pretexts found for even longer prison sentences. In 2023, Russia’s already historic war with Ukraine will show its full transformational potential, finally changing Russia from within and straining its leaders’ ability to keep the situation under control and plan the decisions they make.