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While it is prudent to be cautious, it may also be wise to explore cooperation in those areas where there are shared interests rather than assume that the BRICS and the West are strategic rivals on all fronts. This analysis was first published in the Global Observatory, 30 August 2023. When Jim O’Neill coined the BRIC acronym in 2001, the point he was trying to convey was that the global economic system needed to incorporate the world’s largest emerging economies. His advice fell on deaf ears and in 2009, Brazil, China, India and Russia decided to take matters into their own hands and formed the BRIC grouping. South Africa joined the group in 2010 to form the BRICS. This July, the group held its 15th summit in South Africa, where they decided to add six new members: Argentina, Egypt, Ethiopia, Iran, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates. More are likely to join in the future, including countries like Indonesia and Nigeria.  What these countries have in common is a frustration, if not a grievance, about being side-lined to the periphery of the world economy. Together, the BRICS represent approximately 40% of the world’s population. The combined size of their economies are approaching approximately 30% of the world’s GDP, which puts them roughly on par with combined size of the economies of the G7 countries, depending on whether size is measured in GDP or PPP.  More importantly, in the next few decades, the combined size of the BRICS economies will surpass that of the G7. Despite this growing parity, all the members of the BRICS, with the exception of Russia, self-identifies as being part of the Global South, i.e., they feel excluded from a global system dominated by the Global North. Their stated aim is to work towards a future system of global governance where they will have equal political and economic say in global institutions, and where no one state will dominate others. In pursuit of this aim, BRICS countries have established their own development bank, set up their own contingency reserve arrangement, are developing their own payment system, and have started to trade with each other in their own currencies.  The BRICS want to free their economies from the dollar-based international financial system. They feel exposed to United States interest rates that can have a negative effect on their economies, for no domestic reasons. The dollar-based financial system also provides the US with significant advantages in the global economy, which the BRICS see as unfair. They also feel a dollar-based financial system gives the US hegemonic influence in global affairs, through for example, exerting US jurisdiction on all dollar-based trade or investments that flow through US banks or financial institutions.  While the BRICS countries have these clear shared macro-economic interests, many of the members also have competing interests in other domains. China and India are geopolitical rivals in South Asia. Egypt and Ethiopia are at loggerheads over the Nile. Brazil, India, South Africa and the newly-added Argentina are democracies, while other countries in the group are governed by a diverse set of autocratic regimes, which could set up an irreconcilable clash of values on some issues. Many of the members of the BRICS also have close ties to the United States and Europe, including Egypt, India, Saudi Arabia and South Africa. South African President Cyril Ramaphosa, in a televised statement to the nation on the eve of hosting the BRICS summit in South Africa, explained that South Africa remains non-aligned, and he announced that in 2023 the country will also host a major United States-Africa trade meeting and an EU-South Africa summit. South Africa will also host the G20 in 2025, the first in Africa. For many countries, membership of the BRICS does thus not necessarily imply aligning themselves with one global alliance versus another, but rather cooperation in a group around a series of shared interests.  Where does this place the BRICS on the Russian war in Ukraine? The BRICS summit in Johannesburg steered clear of taking a position on the war, other than welcoming mediation aimed at resolving it through dialogue and diplomacy. Some BRICS members like Iran are clearly supporting Russia, while most others have stopped short of either supporting or condemning Russia. For many such as Egypt, the war has adversely affected their economy. Two of the BRICS members, Egypt and South Africa, are part of an African initiative to seek a mediated end to the conflict, which is perhaps the first African initiative to mediate an international conflict. Overall, however, the BRICS have their eyes on the medium- to long-term transformation of the global macro-economic and financial system, and countries like China are probably frustrated that the Russian war in Ukraine has drawn attention away from this larger objective.  Are the BRICS and the West headed for a new cold war? The shift in the center of gravity of the global economy to the East is an unstoppable fact driven by demographics and economic factors like the cost of production. At the same time, Europe and the United States will remain major economic players. In tandem with these changes in the global economy, it is clear that the global political order will become more multipolar, with China, Europe, India, and the United States representing some of the major centers of influence.  In an August 27 article, Jim O’Neil argues that the influence of the BRICS will be determined by their effectiveness, not their size. An expanding BRICS will most likely succeed in helping its members to break free from a dollar-based international financial system, but that will take several decades of incremental change before it reaches a tipping point. Whether that is a good or bad thing depends on the degree to which your economy is tied to the United States. Many of the BRICS countries, including China, Egypt, India, Saudi Arabia, and South Africa all have economies whose prosperity are closely tied to the Unites States. They will thus have an interest in a slow, stable freeing up of the international financial system, and this should give everyone that is prudent time to adapt.  The same logic also applies to changes in global governance architecture. Apart from Russia, all the other BRICS countries have an interest in making sure that changes in the global order are managed at a slow steady pace that does not generate instability. All the BRICS countries, apart from Russia, are also strong supporters of multilateralism, with the United Nations at its center. Many Western countries and BRICS members may thus have more shared interests than the doomsday headlines suggest. While it is prudent to be cautious, it may also be wise to explore cooperation in those areas where there are shared interests rather than assume that the BRICS and the West are strategic rivals on all fronts.

From a difficult accession process to full integration into the Schengen area and the Eurozone, ten years into its EU membership Croatia has been a “good EU pupil” and an example for EU candidates to follow. However, challenges remain in reaching European standards, particularly regarding administrative reforms and standards of living. When Croatia joined the EU on 1 July 2013 as the 28th Member State, it was the only European nation, except for Greece in 1981, to do so on its own. The newest EU Member’s accession was far from obvious due to complex political circumstances. Involved in the longest war in recent European history (1991-1995), Croatia was left with significant human and economic losses – 20 000 people killed and the cost of reconstruction amounting to 160 percent of GDP. The country’s difficulty to come to terms with war crime prosecutions, all of which were eventually acquitted, significantly impacted its relations with the EU. Consequently, Croatia missed the 2004 (Central and Eastern European States) and 2007 (Bulgaria and Romania) rounds of accession and, somewhat ironically, was placed in the membership package with the Western Balkan countries and later in the accession negotiations with the eternal EU candidate Turkiye. Troubled border issues with Slovenia, then already an EU Member, further compounded the accession – unnecessarily as the Court of Justice of the EU confirmed in 2020. Per aspera ad astra: a good pupil of the EU The enlargement fatigue, which came as a result of the slow integration process for new members, enticed the Member States and the European Commission to be more demanding on Croatia. In addition to the Copenhagen political criteria introduced for all new enlargements, Croatia’s membership negotiations involved an unprecedented 35 chapters with specific opening and closing benchmarks, 160,000 pages of the EU’s Acquis Communautaire, and an additional monitoring process between closing negotiations and full membership, which all led to a long accession process, just short of a decade. With hindsight, this level of scrutiny most likely helped Croatia join the Schengen area and the Eurozone on 1 January this year – ahead of several Eastern European States. With its public debt-to-GDP ratio on the downward trajectory (68.4 percent at the end of 2022), Croatia is also performing better than other Mediterranean Eurozone States. The war, for which the country never received any reparations, and then the “lost decade” between 2004 and 2013 with the Global Financial Crisis in 2008, critically slowed Croatia’s economic growth, meaning it began its membership in the EU as its poorest growth prospects. Ten years on, macroeconomic data paints a more positive picture. Croatia’s GDP growth in the second decade of its EU membership has almost tripled compared to the decade before – reaching a staggering 13.1 percent in 2021. Croatia’s EU funds absorption has also significantly improved with the country receiving €12.1 billion in total from different funds. EU membership has facilitated a number of infrastructure projects, from the Peljesac bridge, one of the EU’s largest infrastructure investments, to reconstruction following earthquakes that hit Croatia in 2020. The accession to the Eurozone has lowered borrowing costs and given impetus to exports. It is expected that it will also boost tourism. Joining the Schengen area and removing borders with neighbouring EU Member States has enabled visitors to travel faster, with record numbers of tourists expected this year. Remaining hurdles Despite stellar numbers, systemic challenges remain affecting Croatia’s microeconomic performance. Overrepresentation of employment in the public sector, high and complex taxation, and inflexible labour laws have contributed to a stifling effect on business activity. Croatia’s average net salary is about €1100, well below the EU’s average, and its GDP per capita is among the lowest in the EU, half the EU average. Croatia’s population has consequently declined by nearly 10 percent to 3.8 million since joining the EU, a significant loss for a small country of mostly its younger population. It therefore does not come as a surprise that the country’s unemployment rate has been steadily decreasing over the years – it is currently at 5.6 percent. Labour shortages are being filled by workers from Balkan countries, but also by Asian workers, a cultural opportunity and a challenge for the rather homogenous Croatian society. Among experts and the business community, Croatia is still perceived as a relatively corrupt country,  fairing only marginally better than Romania, Bulgaria, and Hungary. Several notable high-profile corruption cases in recent years demonstrates the scope of corruption. The EU-wide Public Prosecutor’s Office (EPPO), established in 2021 to investigate corruption specifically related to EU funds, recorded 23 investigations in Croatia last year, most of which concerned regional development and agricultural funds. While the different reforms are underway, the question is whether they will be sufficient to diversify the country’s economy, still largely dependent on tourism (20 percent of Croatia’s GDP) and stop the demographic hemorrhage. New horizons Since Croatia’s accession, the EU has also faced a number of challenges. From the 2015 migration crisis to Brexit, and humanitarian, energy, and economic challenges brought on by Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the EU has been forced to rethink its enlargement strategy. It has recently accepted Ukraine and Moldova as new candidates for EU membership, with Georgia in the pipeline. This is in addition to the already lined up Western Balkan states. Given the persisting political tensions and socio-economic gaps, the integration of such a disparate group of countries presents a difficulty. For now, the current geopolitical situation and the ongoing war requires a cautioning of the EU’s openness. Croatia, as “good EU pupil,” can be a constructive factor in this process. It has been a strong supporter of further enlargement and with its recent experience can provide know-how and assistance. Croatia’s war, and the peacebuilding that followed, could be valuable for the post-conflict reconstruction of Ukraine. Unlike some of the EU’s “enfants terribles” among new Member States, Croatia has not challenged the rule of law or broader EU values. So far, it has proved reliable in protecting the EU external border, which is positioned on the challenging Western Balkan migration route. Much of its good reputation in Brussels can also be thanked to the country’s prime minister, Andrej Plenkovic, who belongs to a progressive line of European conservative leaders gathered in the European People’s Party (EPP) that still rules the EU, as the biggest party in the European Parliament. Given its size, geographical position, and strong European identity, Croatia’s accession to the EU has been an exception in many aspects. However, its performance over the first ten years demonstrates that exceptions can be politically wise. Much as its famous soccer team, Croatia has been in many ways punching above its weight. Its “success story” could thus give an impetus to European integration and serve as a model for future EU enlargements.

I am delighted to be back in the Land in which I was born and grew up, North Rhine-Westphalia. And I am even happier that so many of you have accompanied me here from Berlin and Bonn. I don’t exactly know whether this is a new record, but 170 participants in our joint trip to explore one of the federal states together is really quite a lot. Minister President, thank you very much indeed for the hospitality extended to us here in this, to my mind, wonderful place, the Zollverein Coal Mine Industrial Complex. North Rhine-Westphalia, as you have just heard, is indeed the most populous Land in Germany. And over the past few years and decades, or I could say over the last century and a half, it has become a real melting pot for people from a wide range of nations. Many people from a very large number of regions of the world have come together here –  thanks in the main to that part of North Rhine-Westphalia which is the focus of our trip today. For a long time, the Ruhr District was the beating heart of heavy industry, a region forged by coal and steel. Four and a half years ago, in December 2018, I was there when the last coal mine here in the Ruhr District was closed. That was one of the hardest speeches I have ever had to make in any of the positions I’ve held – to stand in front of crying miners and say to them: this piece of coal in my hands is the last piece of coal mined in Germany. It was – and everyone knew it was – the end of an era in Germany and especially here in the Ruhr District. It was not just the end of a chapter of industrial history. The hard work, and especially the work below ground, profoundly shaped the people in this region for years and decades. For these people, the crucial thing is being able to rely on each other, and that a word, once given, is kept. If you have another chance sometime to look around here, you will notice that the people who live here are vigorous, sober and pragmatic. They don’t ask where you come from or mind how smartly you can talk; what they care about is that you roll up your sleeves, do your work, and especially that you try to behave decently to others.  So you can imagine that the decline of the coal and steel industry meant a massive upheaval for the Ruhr District and its people, for the economy, but also for social structures here. But precisely in this region, a region which has seen many endings and ruptures, many new things are emerging, many new ideas are being implemented. The major transformation of an old industrial landscape that from here is almost invisible amongst all the greenery, the major transformation of an industrial landscape to a centre of science and research, a hub – if I may put it like that – for technologies of the future is well under way. This morning, at Siemens Energy in Mülheim, we were able to see for ourselves what kind of cutting-edge energy transition technologies, some of them AI-driven, are now being developed and used here in the region.   The venue for our luncheon, the former Zollverein coal mine and coking plant, is a particularly good illustration of the pride the people here in the Ruhr District take in their past, and of the devotion with which they are preserving the relics of this history and at the same time again and again turning them into something new. Once one of the most modern plants of its kind in Europe, Zollverein is today a museum, memorial and centre for culture, design, events and new technologies. A World Cultural Heritage site that not only preserves the past but also looks firmly to the future and builds that future.  As economically successful as the coal and steel era was, today we know that it was just as harmful and in many cases entirely destructive for nature and the environment. For instance, the Emscher, originally a small, gentle river, was for many decades used as an open sewer. It was a cesspool, ecologically dead, into which waste, including toxic waste, was discharged. Now, following a tremendous effort, it has been renaturalised. Later today we will be able to see and admire the result. In one of Europe’s biggest infrastructure projects, an entire river has been cleaned up, so that it is now free of wastewater, and once again home to plants and animals. But perhaps the real miracle is that this – it’s safe to say – gigantic project was completed in thirty years, and on schedule no less.  One more thing: the Ruhr District would not be what it is without football. There is little the people here care about at weekends more than this: did my team win or lose? And passions run especially high when the match is against one of the other teams from the region. Even if a club from the south of Germany has won the national championship for years now, the heart of German football beats – at least so people here say – in the Ruhr District, with its many traditional clubs and their fans, unshakeably loyal through all the ups and downs. That is why the German Football Museum was not established any old where in Germany, but here in the “Revier”, as we call the Ruhr mining area. And that is why this trip would not be complete without a joint visit to the museum in Dortmund later on.  Another very serious matter has profoundly affected the people of this region, and not only the older generation. I am talking about war. On the one hand, the Ruhr District was of course also a major centre of arms production in both World Wars unleashed by Germany. On the other, it, more than almost any other region in Germany, experienced fear, massive destruction and thousands of deaths during the intensive bombardments of the Second World War. The people here, including later generations, know exactly what war is.  And because they know, because “Never again” is deeply engraved in their hearts and minds, the Ruhr District is also a nucleus of European integration. The European Coal and Steel Community, which was intended to transform the former heavy industries of the war machine into civilian, peace-keeping industries, gradually evolved into ever greater political, economic and social cooperation, and finally into the major work of peace and freedom that is today’s European Union.   The history of this region in particular, therefore, preserves the precious knowledge that cooperation between peoples and nations is a thousand times better than war and confrontation. That growth and prosperity evolve not from enmity, but from cooperation based on common rules and principles.   That is why we Germans are pleased and proud to be celebrating 50 years of United Nations membership this year. The principles of international law that the then two German states recognised on their accession apply to all who belong to the United Nations. Only compliance with international law, recognition of the Charter of the United Nations and real and actual action in keeping with the principles of this Charter guarantee peace, freedom and prosperity for the nations. On the basis of these principles, we extend the hand of cooperation to all states represented here.  There is of course a reason why I am saying this: The Russian attack on Ukraine is a break with everything for which the United Nations stands, for which Europe and Germany stand. The inviolability of borders, of a country´s sovereignty and self-determination, of human dignity and peace – all this, as we are seeing day in, day out, means nothing to Putin. Today I would like to thank all those who are condemning and have condemned Russia’s aggression at international level. We must not tolerate the attack against a sovereign neighbouring state, the violation of borders, land grabs, the displacement of millions of people. The international community must not accept all this. And we urgently need this international community, and the common rules this international community sets itself – not only now, but for all the new challenges of this century that are yet to come.  We have all seen that no country on its own can secure a humane future. We are all dependent on partnership and cooperation, particularly in our joint efforts in the fight against climate change. That is why we are endeavouring, that is why German and European policy is endeavouring, to intensify existing partnerships and establish new, just partnerships and alliances that will benefit all sides. Let me say this quite clearly: what we need is not deglobalisation. What we need, in my view, is even closer connectivity aimed at making the world a better place. Because we will only be able to overcome the global challenges if we work together.  I wish you and all of us a pleasant rest of the day with lots of enjoyable experiences, interesting insights and, hopefully, valuable encounters. This evening, right at the end of our trip, we will be experiencing another truly glorious part of North-Rhine Westphalia that will surprise you. What we will be seeing is referred to here as the Versailles of Westphalia. I can only say: look forward to it!

Landlocked in the heart of Central Asia, Kazakhstan is involved in regional partnerships and, pragmatic, claims to be a facilitator with balanced relations, even if the pressure to take a stand between Russia, China and the European Union is strong. This cocktail is the challenge of so-called middle power (or bridge) countries, developing multi-factor diplomacy, here constrained by geography and made possible by the country’s resources. Moreover, the development and identity of the five Central Asian countries are built around the imperative of cooperation, given the geographical position and the small number of citizens (75 million for the five countries).  The 2023 edition of the Astana Forum, formerly economic and renamed Astana International Forum, was structured around four themes: foreign policy and international security, international development and sustainability, energy and climate change and economy and finance. This forum supports the development of international action: dialogue of international themes, with the desire to propose answers, desires to become a reference on the world scene without forgetting a public relations dimension. This has resulted in Kazakhstan’s diplomacy being described as ‘niche diplomacy’ (for uranium exchanges) or multi-vector diplomacy[1]. Since February 2022, the Belt and Road Initiative, China’s connectivity project, no longer pass through Russia. Kazakhstan is at the centre of the EU-funded Asia-Europe Transport Road (or Trans International Transport Road). This is one example where the economy, originally considered by Joseph Nye as a resource of hard power, becomes a factor of attractiveness and image for a country. In terms of analysis, considering a continuum – not a strict dichotomy – between hard power and soft power allows for more flexibility between projects and resources. This multilateral institutional program connects the rail freight container transport networks of China and the EU. The multimodal transport structure connects the Caspian and Black Sea ferry terminals with the rail systems of Asian and European countries. The route starts from Southeast Asia and China, crosses Kazakhstan, the Caspian Sea, Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Turkey. The so-called middle corridor is present in the speeches and in the initiatives and funding of the European Union and China. This land logistics link between the China and EU trading zones goes beyond transport to digitation of data and complying with European Union and UN standards. Therefore, several models are facing together depending on the view of China or the Union. Beyond this situation, what are the challenges for this middle power and in the broader context of countries that voluntarily and reasoned choose an identical approach and positioning? A successful solution for a middle power means choosing specific negotiating topics in the international space, being agile and flexible, and knowing how to build coalitions to defend them. In the context of multilateralism, it is necessary to structure actions for a convergence between its interests and those of the partners rather than on an ideology. This is one of the conditions for becoming credible, for developing its discourse and, ultimately, to be perceived by the international community as a country with positive contributions. And beyond this community, by the public, which comes down to finding its place on the world map in the long term, when the country becomes known and better identified. Diplomacy becomes public, because it consists of informing, or even dialogue with public opinion. Thus, the Astana Forum presents a middle power capable of building a regional dialogue with experts, politicians, and international actors, which contributes to the construction of legitimacy and the ability to influence through contacts, cooperation and media coverage. Being a middle power also means being courted in alliance competitions whose number and formats become exponential, which generates as many acronyms as possible, here China + C5 and EU + C5. Two recent summits, beyond content and photos, tell the stakes. The China-five Central Asian summit took place in May 2023 in Xi’an, China with the signing of 54 multilateral agreements. The meeting of the European Union and the five Central Asian countries took place at the beginning of June in Cholpon Ata, Kyrgyzstan. These are the five countries being courted no doubt with strong pressure to choose one or the other alliance, hence the tensions and questions of cooperation already mentioned. Moreover, contradictions exist between the possibilities and wills of the middle powers and the driving force of international institutions, structures with more rigid rules, including, for example, the Security Council. A new paradigm is emerging: the role of coalitions. Finally, middle-power countries must balance their national interests, common international challenges such as climate change, and building alliances and coalitions. Claims of middle powers, alliances and coalitions and connectivity programs may be shaping the geopolitics of tomorrow.

Putin’s plan is to wait out what he sees as inevitable changes in the West and Ukraine. These days, however, Russia’s elites are liable to see defeatism in inaction.Nothing is happening in Russia. At least, that’s the impression given by Vladimir Putin over the past six months. On some level, the president has been extremely active, secretly micromanaging the war effort and publicly pretending to be dealing with routine matters from meetings on the economy to the launch of a tram line in the occupied Ukrainian city of Mariupol. Yet there are no presidential initiatives in the works for adapting the country to the new wartime reality and all that it involves.  Putin has stubbornly remained disengaged in this sense, despite drone strikes on the Kremlin, mercenary boss Yevgeny Prigozhin’s crusade against the Defense Ministry, and even Ukraine’s looming counteroffensive. He prefers to give lectures on history and offer optimistic assessments of Russia’s economic prospects—and pessimistic ones of the West’s. This doesn’t mean, of course, that there really is nothing happening in Russia: quite the contrary. But what is happening has far less to do with the president’s plans or strategic interests than it does with the corporate interests of individual departments and figures. What is happening is largely a response to the worsening conditions facing Russia. Take the digitization of Russia’s system for issuing conscription notices, a move forced by the difficulties surrounding conscription during a war that is not going according to plan. Or how repression has deepened, in an attempt at self-preservation by the system amid fast-growing geopolitical risks and fears of defeat. Repressive inertia and self-aggrandizement by major institutions such as the FSB and the defense and finance ministries have driven many recent decisions, including the return of ideology. Justice Minister Konstantin Chuichenko has spoken openly about the possibility of introducing a new official ideology that would extend to education, cinema, theater, and poetry. This process has long since ceased to be under Putin’s direct control and is now developing independently of him, albeit with his passive consent. Here and in other important debates, Putin’s voice is absent. Should Russia’s borders be closed? Should those who have already left have their rights restricted? Who is to be exempted from mobilization? How are those designated as “foreign agents” by the state to be punished? What should be done about Prigozhin? How should the country respond to incidents like drone strikes and attempts to assassinate “ultra-patriots”?   The stances of parliamentarians, party leaders, cabinet ministers, military bloggers, and the security services on these and other matters are all well known. Yet Putin says nothing, intervening only to take steps such as retreating from the key Ukrainian city of Kherson, suspending Russia’s participation in the New START nuclear agreement, or pulling out of the Treaty on Conventional Armed Forces in Europe. Even in his long-awaited address to the Federal Assembly, he merely listed measures already taken by the government. Today, Putin is just about the only person in Russia who is not increasingly engaged in politics, from former president Dmitry Medvedev, State Duma speaker Vyacheslav Volodin, and Security Council head Nikolai Patrushev to Prigozhin, the war bloggers, and television hosts. It is as though the president has recused himself, devoting himself to secret military and geopolitical matters, the details of which are known to few. This is not a sign of fear or weakness. Rather, it reflects Putin’s growing messiah complex. At present, literally all his political hopes and plans hinge on external changes that are out of his control. Putin has no instruments or resources with which to change the situation in his favor. Yet he believes that the world will change all the same and deliver him Kyiv’s capitulation.  Putin’s plan is to wait out what he sees as the inevitable transformation of the West and Ukraine. Any fear of a Ukrainian counteroffensive has given way to the conviction that little will change on the battlefield, beyond minor setbacks that he is prepared to tolerate. The calculation in the Kremlin is that absent a military breakthrough, Ukraine’s elite will fracture, leading to the emergence of a “party of peace” (i.e., capitulation), while in the West, internal divisions will force cuts to military and political support for Kyiv. Putin’s hopes cannot be dismissed as completely baseless, but his problem is that this approach is anathema to Russia’s restless political class. For all its loyalty and pliability, it has evolved dramatically during the war. These days, Russia’s elites are liable to see defeatism in inaction. All of this creates the conditions for the political ambitions of parastatal actors to soar. Despite their reputation for being instruments of the Kremlin, they are gradually building political capital and may one day run out of patience with the regime and challenge it. Already, Putin is struggling to explain what exactly he is waiting for.    In the first months of the war, many took notice of how the once-marginal pro-war “ultra-patriots” had matured politically and come to dominate the information space. Today, the officious hawks, such as Medvedev, Volodin, and Patrushev, are losing their place in Russian politics to the angry patriots, including Prigozhin, former Donbas commander Igor Strelkov, and the war bloggers. Compared to each other, the former seem like opportunists and armchair generals, while the latter, having emerged in combat conditions, look much more like the real thing.  The regime is not under threat so long as Putin’s ratings remain stable, and besides, the mechanism of power is still completely under his control. Yet his public paralysis and refusal to assume responsibility for the resolution of the most pressing problems facing Russia cannot but render him and his courtiers politically irrelevant and create a vacuum to be filled by the ultra-patriots. The day may come when Putin finds himself dependent on a once harmless bunch made dangerous by his opacity and inaction.

Russia’s annual Victory Day holiday on May 9, when the country marks the Soviet victory over Nazi Germany in World War II, was expected to be a fairly low-key affair this year. Just three days before the festivities, which included a military parade on Red Square, only one high-ranking guest was due to attend: Kyrgyz President Sadyr Japarov.  On the eve of the parade, however, it emerged that the presidents of four other Central Asian nations had also arrived at the last minute, along with Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan and Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko. For over a year now, following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine last February, the Central Asian leaders have tried to avoid the issue of the war. So why have they now risked both their reputations and their safety (after all, there were drones flying over the Kremlin the week before the parade) to attend Moscow’s military festivities in what is being seen by many as a gesture of support for Russia? Even before the war, the Central Asian presidents preferred to celebrate May 9 in their own countries: any holiday that unites the nation is seen as a way of strengthening their relatively young statehood. Some also tried to use the Soviet-era holiday to make the point that the major victory of the 20th century had not been achieved by Russia alone. Each of the Central Asian capitals held its own military parade and competed with Russia and among themselves to stump up the most lump-sum payments for veterans. Sometimes their leaders still attended the parade in Moscow – that was never a problem. Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine changed everything. Russian President Vladimir Putin began to use Victory Day to justify his aggression, comparing Russia’s historic fight against the Nazis to its current so-called “special operation” against the Ukrainians.  This year’s parade inevitably resulted in images of the Central Asian leaders sitting alongside Russian troops who have been fighting in the war and applauding Putin’s speech about a “sacred struggle for the motherland.” Those images will make it much harder to insist that the countries of Central Asia do not support Russia's aggression against Ukraine. This conclusion was, of course, perfectly clear to those involved, which is why the Central Asian presidents did not initially intend to be there, as evidenced by official statements. Two weeks before the parade, Kazakh President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev announced that on May 9, he would commemorate those killed in World War II in the capital Astana, while Uzbek President Shavkat Mirziyoyev ordered a fireworks display in Tashkent on May 9, with the clear intention of attending himself. Nor did Moscow itself even intend to invite anyone at first. On April 24, Putin’s spokesman Dmitry Peskov said that since it was not a big anniversary this year, no “special invitations” had been sent to anyone. Only Japarov’s visit was planned in advance: both the itinerary and the makeup of the impressive official delegation were made public. It seems, therefore, that everything in Russia is now conducted like a special operation – even invitations to a parade. “Special invitations” were issued one after another just a few days before the parade in the form of phone calls from Putin, as reported on the websites of Tajik President Emomali Rahmon on May 5 and Turkmen President Serdar Berdymukhamedov on May 7. Mirziyoyev and Tokayev’s attendance, meanwhile, was announced with photographs of them exiting their planes in Moscow. In all likelihood, with the exception of Japarov, the Central Asian presidents initially managed to politely decline the invitation to Moscow. But when Putin called them, it became not only difficult to do so, but also dangerous. All of the Central Asian nations are proud of their multi-vector foreign policy, and relations with the West are just as important to them as with Moscow or Beijing. Now that Russia and the West are on the verge of war, it has become far trickier for Central Asia to maintain its partnerships with both sides. The last few years have shown that when the West imposes sanctions against a country, they are observed by everyone, including China. Accordingly, since the invasion, Central Asia’s leaders have tried to strike a balance. None of them have recognized the territories annexed from Ukraine as part of Russia, but nor have they publicly criticized Putin or condemned the war. They have all agreed to comply with sanctions, yet have made no real efforts to stop Russia from using their territory to circumvent the restrictions. It’s a precarious balance. Much to Moscow’s annoyance, Western delegations have repeatedly traveled to Central Asia to advise local authorities on sanctions compliance, and have threatened secondary sanctions for failure to comply. Moscow has responded with veiled and asymmetrical threats, such as halting exports of Kazakh oil to Europe or prohibiting the import of products from Eurasian Economic Union countries, supposedly over GMOs. Central Asia’s leaders are left to decide for themselves how much of this is coincidence, and how much a response to their statements and actions. Therefore, the deciding factor in the presidents’ visit to Moscow was likely that the West’s actions are predictable, while Moscow’s are not. Quite simply, taking part in Moscow’s Victory Day celebrations may have looked bad, but Washington and Brussels were unlikely to impose sanctions simply for attending a parade, while the potential consequences from Moscow of refusing to attend were hard to predict. There were also pragmatic reasons for visiting Moscow. Contrary to expectations, far from severing ties with Russia, Central Asia actually drew closer to it in 2022. The reality is that it can be profitable to be located next door to a giant, isolated economy and diplomatic pariah. Firstly, Central Asian companies have made record profits from the disappearance of Western imports from the Russian market. Exports from all five Central Asian countries to Russia soared in 2022. Secondly, Central Asia is becoming a financial hub for Russians moving their savings out of Russia. Last year, more than $770 million was transferred from Russia to Kazakhstan – an almost sevenfold increase from 2021. Transfers to Uzbekistan, meanwhile, more than doubled to $17 billion. Thirdly, Central Asia is now the focus of far more international attention than ever before, with Western countries trying to persuade the region not to help Russia in any way, and Moscow trying hard to stop it from drifting away. Recognizing that this attention is largely the result of their proximity to Russia and will not last forever, Central Asia’s leaders are trying to milk the current situation for all it is worth. Accordingly, individual actions should not be interpreted as either definitive support for Russia or a move to sever relations with it. Central Asia’s political elites view the invasion of Ukraine through the prism of their own interests, top of which is the preservation of their own regimes. For this reason, they will continue to show loyalty to Putin, attending parades with him and periodically praising Moscow in public speeches. It might look like an attempt to have it both ways, but this is the survival strategy the Central Asian regimes consider most likely to work.

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has turned neighboring Moldova into a tinder box. Its border with Ukraine stretches for over 1,200 kilometers, and Russian missiles have entered Moldovan airspace on more than one occasion. Moscow has threatened to prevent Moldova from becoming another “anti-Russia,” while making fearmongering accusations that the Ukrainian army has plans to seize Moldova’s breakaway region Transnistria. The direct military threat to Moldova, however, receded after the Ukrainian army defeated Russia in Kherson, and the Moldovan government appears to have successfully adapted to the new situation and restored relative stability. Despite historically strong pro-Russian sentiment, the vast majority of Moldovans now agree that cooperation with Moscow has become too toxic, while the allure of EU integration—such as the opportunity to work there—is more tempting than anything Russia has to offer. Chisinau is accordingly taking increasingly decisive measures in its fight against Russian interference.  A state of emergency has been in effect in Moldova ever since Russia invaded Ukraine on February 24, 2022, affording the government and law enforcement agencies additional powers. So far, the authorities have not resorted to radical measures, but the fact that the state of emergency is extended every two months shows that they are seriously concerned about the threat of destabilization. Throughout the past year, Chisinau has condemned Moscow for the war, but avoided direct confrontation, and was initially reluctant to actively oppose Russian interference. Moldovans welcomed Ukrainian refugees, but declined Kyiv’s requests to sell it six MiG-29 fighter jets, which was a bitter pill for Kyiv to swallow, considering that the Ukrainian army had thwarted Russia’s attempts at the start of the war to carve a corridor through Ukraine to Moldova’s Moscow-backed breakaway region, Transnistria. If it were not for Ukraine’s counterattack, then Moscow would likely have already taken control of Moldova and installed a pro-Russian president there: Russia’s rhetoric about the illegitimacy of the current Moldovan leadership is getting louder and louder. It is unlikely that Moldova, neither a large nor wealthy country, would have been able to put up much of a fight. Chisinau’s caution is understandable: after all, there are 1,500 Russian troops stationed in Transnistria, both as peacekeepers and as guards for Soviet-era arms depots. Moldova only joined anti-Russian sanctions this spring. Before that, the government demurred, citing the country’s dependence on the Russian economy, even though Moldova’s main trading partner has long been the European Union. Last year, almost 60 percent of Moldovan exports went to the EU, while less than a quarter went to the entire Commonwealth of Independent States, including Russia. And while exports to the EU increased by a third in 2022, those destined for Russia decreased by about the same amount. Even Moldova’s long-standing and almost complete dependence on Russian gas supplies has significantly weakened during the past year, largely due to the actions of Russia itself. Last October, Russia’s Gazprom reduced gas supplies to Moldova from 9 million to 5.7 million cubic meters per day in a payment dispute.  Moscow also reduced gas supplies to Transnistria, which almost left Moldova without electricity, since until 2022 up to 70 percent of electricity supplied to the rest of Moldova came from Transnistria and its regional power plant, which runs on Russian gas. The rest was supplied by Ukraine. Due to the reduction in gas supplies, Transnistria stopped selling electricity to Chisinau, while Kyiv also stopped exports due to the Russian missile strikes against its energy infrastructure, which had caused severe energy shortages across the war-torn country. Soon afterward, Chisinau reached an agreement with Tiraspol, Transnistria’s de facto capital. Chisinau agreed to send its own Russian gas supplies to Transnistria in exchange for the resumption of electricity supplies from the latter. To meet its domestic requirements, Moldova began buying gas from the EU, which by January 2023 had enabled it to save $330 per 1,000 cubic meters compared with Russian prices thanks to the relative stabilization of the European gas market.  In the spring, Ukraine resumed electricity exports, and the Transnistria power plant returned to its prewar capacity. The energy crisis hit Moldovan consumers hard, but prod Chisinau to establish alternative gas suppliers, including Romania and Greece, with plans to add Azerbaijan to that list. This energy diversification has strengthened the Moldovan government’s position in its relationship with Moscow. By this spring, following the resignation of the government and a subsequent reshuffle, Moldova had begun to toughen its stance on Russia. New Prime Minister Dorin Recean was previously a national security advisor and interior minister, and his appointment was a signal that security issues are Chisinau’s top priority right now. A few days before the reshuffle, President Maia Sandu said that Ukrainian intelligence had intercepted a Kremlin plan to organize a coup in Moldova through opposition protests and the involvement of foreign mercenaries. It’s hard to verify the claims, but what is certain is that Russia has always had extensive influence in Moldova, and has traditionally enjoyed the support of about half the population. Even now, polls show that while the majority of Moldovans condemn the Russian invasion of Ukraine, about 30 percent still admire Putin. Since last fall, the Shor party has been leading Moldovans in anti-government protests, officially against high utility prices. Russian propaganda portrays the protests as anti-European and nationwide, and describes the party’s head, the fugitive oligarch Ilan Shor, as the leader of the Moldovan opposition. But in reality, the protests only attract a couple of thousand people, and those participants do not hide the fact that they are paid to attend.  Ilan Shor fled to Israel after being sentenced to fifteen years in prison in Moldova for his role in laundering $1 billion in three Moldovan banks. A change of regime in Chisinau to a pro-Russian government would allow him to avoid prosecution and return to Moldova. Many believe that the Kremlin has offered him precisely these guarantees. The Moldovan government was concerned by the protests, but did not dare to take tough action: the Shor party has six seats in parliament, and freedom of assembly is enshrined in the constitution. But the reports of Kremlin plans to destabilize Moldova, and then the emergence of a document titled “Strategic Goals of the Russian Federation in the Republic of Moldova,” which spelled out a plan for regime change, forced Chisinau to act more decisively. The new Moldovan cabinet has appealed to the Constitutional Court to declare the Shor party illegitimate for promoting the interests of a foreign state. Meanwhile, in response to the opposition rallies, Sandu has called on Moldovans to assemble on Chisinau’s main square on May 21 in support of EU integration. About 60 percent of Moldovans are in favor of their country’s accession to the European Union. The reshuffled government has also stopped the broadcasting of Russian TV channels, and stepped up its efforts to publicly refute dubious Russian claims, such as that Ukraine is preparing to occupy Transnistria. The powers of the Information and Security Service, Moldova’s main intelligence agency, have been expanded, and a number of Russian officials—including President Vladimir Putin—have been banned from entering the country. Chisinau’s position on Transnistria has also become tougher. In February, the Moldovan parliament amended the law to make separatism an offense punishable by jail time, prompting outrage in Tiraspol. Chisinau insists that the amendments will not be applied retrospectively: only to future manifestations of separatism. Still, it is not yet clear how the new law will work in practice, so for now, Transnistrian officials prefer not to be seen in Chisinau. Russia’s actions have also prompted a public discussion in Moldova about the country’s armed forces, which will not be able to put up much resistance to a serious security threat. At the Munich Security Conference in February, Sandu asked NATO countries to provide Moldova with air defense systems. The government has not yet abandoned neutrality, but is making it clear that it is ready to turn to NATO for help in the event of an escalation. Chisinau’s course toward more resolute resistance to the Kremlin doesn’t mean that the country will be able to rid itself of its dependence on Russia overnight, of course. Nor will Moscow relinquish its foothold inside the country without a fight. Most likely, the Kremlin will continue to interfere in Moldovan political life by financing pro-Russian parties, portraying NATO as a threat, and accusing Sandu of trying to drag Moldova into the war. It’s possible that the pro-Russian forces will be able to take advantage of the country’s socioeconomic problems to put in a decent showing in the next elections. Even that scenario, however, will not result in fundamental changes to Moldova’s foreign policy. Russia’s aggression against Ukraine is helping to consolidate Moldovan society in favor of EU integration and emancipation from Moscow. No matter who ends up leading the country in the future, they will not be able to ignore that consensus.

It aims to signal its diplomatic ascendance and challenge Washington as the big shaper of outcomes. Late last month, Chinese President Xi Jinping finally made that much hoped-for call to Ukraine’s President Volodymr Zelensky and informed the world that his nation “always stood on the side of peace.” This was the first outreach by Beijing to Ukraine since  the latter’s invasion by Russia last February, and Zelensky was keen on this engagement, especially after Xi’s visit to Moscow in March. Ukraine views China as an important interlocutor that can engage with Russia and seems to have been encouraged by the “long and meaningful” phone call between the two leaders that in its view would “give a powerful impetus to the development of our bilateral relations.” Last week, Ukraine’s finance minister also suggested that Kyiv should use its bilateral relationship with China as leverage to bring an end to Russia’s full-scale invasion, though he refused to consider China as a friend. The Chinese President has been reported as saying that China, “as a responsible majority country,” would “neither watch the fire from the other side, nor add fuel to the fire, let alone take advantage of the crisis to profit.” But there was no suggestion that Beijing would be doing anything meaningful going forward. The call and associated choreography had more to do with positioning China as a global power that is willing to engage in resolving problems, as opposed to the US that is creating more trouble by continuing to support Ukraine and prolonging the war. China has already laid out its cards on the table when it comes to the Ukraine crisis. It had released a 12-point position paper on the political settlement of the Ukraine crisis earlier this February. In an attempt to present itself as a neutral peace broker, Beijing has enunciated a few standard principles, including respect for the sovereignty of all countries, resumption of peace talks, keeping industrial and supply chains stable and opposition to unilateral sanctions  as well as the use of nuclear weapons. Taking this forward, China has decided to send special representatives to Ukraine and hold talks with all parties in an attempt at peace-making. But beyond these principles, China’s credentials are hardly supportive of a larger role as a peace-maker, as it has long refused to view its ties with Ukraine and Russia at the same level. Russia has shown no inclination to step back from its aggression and Ukraine is seemingly preparing to launch a large-scale counter-offensive against Russian forces in a bid to retake territory in the east and south for which it has been preparing for months now. While Moscow has given no indication of backing down, perhaps assuming that it has time on its side and waiting for the Western consensus on backing Ukraine to collapse, Ukrainian forces feel that the weaponry delivered by the West over the past few months is likely to give them the momentum needed to shape battlefield realities in their favour. China is also unlikely to be viewed as an honest broker, given its ties with Russia that are increasingly becoming tighter. And despite repeated statements that the “sovereignty, independence and territorial integrity of all  countries must be effectively upheld,” Beijing has not only refused to acknowledge Russia’s violation of Ukrainian sovereignty, but has continued to privilege its partnership with Moscow. Though Xi’s visit to Moscow in March did not result in any concrete help to Russia, it did signal to the West that  the China-Russia entente can shape the global balance of power in ways that can be deleterious to Western interests. More than anything else, Chinese posturing in the Ukraine conflict is aimed at the West. In its position paper, Beijing talks about the need to abandon a “Cold War mentality” and argues that “the legitimate security interests and concerns of all countries must be taken seriously and addressed properly,” making it clear that it largely agrees with Moscow’s perspective that it was the West that created the conditions for this war with the expansion of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (Nato). China has also been critical of Western sanctions on Russia, arguing that “relevant countries should stop abusing unilateral sanctions and ‘long-arm jurisdiction’ against other countries, so as to do their share in de-escalating the Ukraine crisis.” Both of these issues are germane for the long-term trajectory of China’s role on the global stage amid deepening tensions with the US. For China, clearly, this crisis is more about itself than it is about Russia. As China comes out of its covid- induced isolation, it would like to have a stable international environment for a sustained economic recovery. But it is also using an opportunity to emerge as a key global interlocutor by venturing into diplomatic arenas it has been shy of in the past, taking advantage of the West’s recent inward orientation. This effort was exemplified by its attempt to bring Iran and Saudi Arabia together in the highly volatile Middle East. China’s attempt at emerging as a global peace-maker is about presenting a diplomatic challenge to the US on the global stage. Beijing may not have much of an impact on the eventual outcome of the Ukraine crisis, but it is signalling that it is no longer shy of showcasing its growing diplomatic heft.

​Although the dollar continues to be the dominant global currency, Russia and China could dent this dominance. In the aftermath of global financial exclusion, Russia has had to make some strategic adaptations. The West’s sanctions had crippling consequences, and the Kremlin scrambled to find alternatives. In light of these developments, China became an important ally, and the Yuan—its currency—has taken on a more prominent role. It is telling that in Russia, the yuan has surpassed the United States Dollar (USD) in trading volume, a feat achieved a year after the Ukraine conflict, which triggered a series of sanctions against Moscow. As Russia and China band together, one wonders what other shifts will take place and how they will shape the future. Change is afoot, and the Russian market bears witness. The month of February saw a watershed moment as the yuan surged past the dollar in monthly trading volume for the first time. The momentum continued into March as the gap between the two currencies widened, showcasing the growing sway of the yuan. It’s an impressive feat, considering that the yuan’s trading volume on the Russian market was once quite insignificant. The winds of change blew through Russia’s financial system as the year progressed. Additional sanctions had taken their toll on the few remaining banks that still held power to make cross-border transactions in the currencies of countries that had been deemed “unfriendly” by the Kremlin. One such bank was Raiffeisen Bank International AG, whose Russian branch played a significant role in facilitating international payments within the country. However, the lender found itself under the watchful eye of both European and US authorities, which only added to the pressure. These events spurred the Kremlin and Russian companies to shift their foreign-trade transactions to currencies of countries that had not imposed sanctions.Converging coalitionsThe bond between Russia and China is growing stronger, with both nations seeking to bolster their positions on the global stage. Their alliance has spread across various spheres: military, economic, and political. With relations between Russia and the West crumbling, China has emerged as a key partner for Russia, providing it with the necessary support to counter economic and political pressure. On the other hand, China is keen on expanding its global reach, especially in the Eurasian region, and sees Russia as an important ally in this regard. President Xi Jinping’s recent visit to Moscow and his pledge to expand cooperation are likely to take this partnership to greater heights. Trade and investment ties are set to grow stronger, with both nations seeking to reduce their dependence on Western economies. Russia’s focus on infrastructure development and mega projects is also likely to benefit from China’s expertise in these areas. Energy is another significant area of collaboration, with Russia being a leading exporter of oil and gas and China being the world’s largest importer of these resources. Technology is also an essential domain, with both countries investing heavily in research and development to remain competitive in the global economy. While the alliance between Russia and China will likely have far-reaching geopolitical consequences, it is a complicated relationship with both nations pursuing their interests, even as they work towards common goals. As a result of Western sanctions, Russia has shifted its foreign trade transactions away from the dollar and euro to currencies of non-restricted countries. By doing so, the Kremlin and Russian companies hope to decrease their dependence on the Western financial system and explore new avenues for conducting their trade and economic activities. This shift in strategy reflects Russia’s determination to maintain its economic stability despite restrictions on its access to the global financial system. It also underlines the growing importance of alternative currencies in global trade as countries strive to minimise the impact of sanctions and safeguard their economic interests.Structural overhaulsThe Russian Finance Ministry was not immune to the winds of change either. Earlier this year, it made the switch from the dollar to the yuan for its market operations. It even went a step further by devising a new structure for the national wealth fund, earmarking 60 percent of its assets for the yuan. The Bank of Russia joined the chorus, urging its people and businesses to consider moving their assets to the rouble or other currencies considered “friendly.” This would help mitigate the risk of having their funds blocked or frozen. As the world undergoes a seismic geopolitical shift, it seems Russia is moving in tandem, searching for ways to secure its economic future. However, the dollar still reigns supreme in the Russian market. Even with all the changes taking place, it remains the most widely used currency, ceding its throne only occasionally to the yuan. This underscores the enduring dominance of the dollar, which has played a significant role in Russia’s financial landscape for years. However, as the world continues to evolve, one wonders how long it can hold on to its crown.

Mongolia’s prime minister, Luvsannamsrain Oyun-Erdene, recently expressed his country’s fear that the world is heading towards a new cold war as the relations between Russia and China and the west – particularly Nato – have taken a turn for the worse. “It’s like a divorce,” he said. “When the parents divorce, the children are the ones who get hurt the most.” The country sits landlocked between Russia and China and is fearful of antagonising either. It gets much of its power from Russia, and China buys much of its exports – mainly agricultural goods and minerals such as copper. By pursuing a nimble foreign and trade policy since it transitioned to a multiparty democracy in the early 1990s, Mongolia has established a stable economy, receiving a thumbs up from the World Bank in its latest country report: With vast agricultural, livestock and mineral resources, and an educated population, Mongolia’s development prospects look promising in the long-term assuming the continuation of structural reforms. But the war in Ukraine has brought home to Mongolia just how carefully it must now navigate its foreign and trade policies to remain independent.Smooth transition to democracyFrom 1921 to 1990, Mongolia was effectively part of the Soviet bloc, although not part of the Soviet Union itself. The country’s centralised command economy was almost entirely dependent on Moscow for survival. The collapse of communism in the early 1990s resulted in what proved to be a smooth transition. The then leader, Jambyn Batmönkh, refused to even consider quelling pro-democracy demonstrations, instead saying: “Any force shall not be used. There is no need to utilise the police or involve the military … Actually, these demonstrators, participants, and protesters are our children.” His resignation in 1990 and the emergence of Ardchilsan Kholboo (Mongolian Democratic Union) paved the way for the development of a multiparty democracy. The June 1993 presidential election in Mongolia, which was ruled as free and fair by the International Foundation for Electoral Systems, saw the incumbent president, Ochirbat Punsalmaa – who had been appointed after a ballot by members of the existing Presidium of the People’s Great Khural (the national assembly) – elected for a four-year term. A new constitution was adopted, with a three-part structure under the speaker of the parliament, the prime minister and the president and, while there have been instances of political corruption, Freedom House gives the country a high rating for both political rights and civil liberties. All of which cannot disguise that the fledgling democracy remained wedged between (at the time chaotic) Russia and an increasingly assertive and authoritarian China. The obvious policy for Mongolia to pursue was to attempt to balance the two great powers in the region. Initially, Mongolia’s foreign policy relied heavily on “omni-enmeshment”. This basically meant building relationships with as many partners as possible, both regionally and globally – including, significantly, the US. But since 2000, Mongolia has embraced the policy concept of “balance-of-power” to reduce the country’s reliance on any one nation. To this end, they have partnered with strategic states in Asia, such as Japan and India, and rekindled military ties with Russia by entering a “strategic partnership” and conducting joint military exercises, while still maintaining a strong relationship with China. Mongolia has also strengthened bilateral security relations with the US. Mongolia’s relationship with China is complicated by the fact that a significant part of what was traditionally Mongolia is now an “autonomous region” of China (Inner Mongolia), with a population of ethnic Mongolians larger than that of Mongolia itself. This, and the activities of secessionist groups in the province, is a persistent point of conflict between China and Mongolia.Third neighboursBut Mongolia sees its independence increasingly threatened as Russia and China grow closer. Since the demise of the Soviet Union, Mongolia has adopted a strategy of maintaining strong ties with “third neighbours” – countries that embrace democratic values but also practice market economics, including the US (it was a term first articulated with connection to Mongolian foreign policy in August 1990 by then US secretary of state James Baker). The US and Mongolia formalised their relations as a Strategic Partnership in 2019 and in 2022 – clearly with one eye on Ukraine – the two countries announced they were deepening the partnership “in all areas of mutual interest”, including an “open skies” agreement which would guarantee scheduled nonstop passenger flights between the two countries. The US – with other third-neighbour allies – also takes part in the annual Khaan Quest military exercises.Dangerous timesThe war in Ukraine has brought the precarious geopolitical situation in Ukraine into sharp focus. The latest joint declaration from the US-Mongolia Strategic Partnership stressed that “disputes should be resolved by peaceful means and with respect for the United Nations Charter and international law, including the principles of sovereignty and respect for the independence and territorial integrity of states, and without the threat or use of force”. It added: “To this end, both nations expressed concern over the suffering of the Ukrainian people.” Mongolia has abstained from the UN votes condemning Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, while also refusing to criticise the sanctions imposed on Russia by the west, despite the fact that they have affected Mongolia – for example, sanctions against Russian banks have made it difficult to pay for its imports from Russia. And, for all its efforts to forge ties around the globe, Mongolia remains heavily dependent on both Russia and China. The prospect of a new cold war setting the west against the Beijing-Moscow axis is a major concern for Mongolia. As Elbegdorj Tsakhia, a former prime minister and president of Mongolia – now a member of The Elders group of global leaders – told Time magazine in April 2021: “I feel that we have just one neighbour. China, Russia, have become like one country, surrounding Mongolia … Every day, we face very tough challenges to keep our democracy alive. Mongolia is fighting for its survival.”