March 23, 2022
Sometimes sanctions hurt the West as well as the targeted regime, but that cannot be a reason to hesitate.
Short of direct military involvement, oil sanctions represent the single most important policy instrument available to the West to sway Russian President Vladimir Putin’s political calculus. They are a tool that needs to be wielded resolutely.
Last year, Russia's total exports reached $489.8bn. Of that, energy (in the form of crude oil, pipeline natural gas, and liquified natural gas) accounted for roughly half, nearly $241bn, with the lion’s share generated by the sale of oil. Last year's average price of oil was $68 per barrel, and with the price of oil soaring (benchmark Brent crude was about $115 a barrel on March 22), it is providing the Kremlin far greater funds to fuel its aggression in Ukraine.
To be sure, the sanctions invoked so far on the Russian financial system, oligarchs, and certain industries will cause serious harm to the economy in the long run. They will also have an immediate effect on the wealth of oligarchs and the living standards of ordinary citizens. However, they will not deliver a fatal blow to the Putin regime as long as oil revenues flow into Russia. That’s because these funds oil Putin’s machine; they keep his security apparatus operating, and allow him to provide at least basic services to Russian citizens, thereby keeping their level of discontent low.
Based on this realization, the Biden administration on March 8 announced that it was banning the import of Russian oil, natural gas, and coal. So far, however, Europe has not followed suit.
Critics on the continent have opposed energy sanctions on the grounds that they would do serious economic damage given the reliance of many countries on Russian fuels. Indeed, Europe’s dependency on Russian energy has been a topic of perennial concern in recent years – but little concrete action. Germany is the largest importer, by product value, of Russian oil within the European Union. In 2021, the total EU energy import value from Russia stood at some $150bn, of which $104bn was for oil products. Germany was the largest importer at an estimated $23.6bn worth of crude oil, gasoline, and diesel.
As a result, European nations would undoubtedly feel the pinch if they went ahead with energy sanctions against Russia. As German Chancellor Olaf Scholtz said on March 7, Russian energy imports had to continue for now because oil and gas “cannot be secured in any other way.”
It is true that sanctions would hit Europe hard — EU states rely on Russia for 40% of energy supplies. Any such discomfort, however, needs to be balanced against new global realities — and the likely long-term economic and geopolitical costs if the current war in Ukraine continues.
Here, it’s necessary to clarify the nature of the energy business, and oil in particular. Oil is a global commodity, which means that there is a global oil market where prices are determined by supply and demand. In this regard, oil is different from natural gas, which is more a regional commodity and is characterized by price fluctuations in different markets.
As a result, a blanket Western ban on Russian oil won’t serve to take Russian oil off the streets — the Kremlin will simply sell to other consumers (like China.). But a joint U.S.-European ban would significantly constrict the potential buyers, while market forces will do the rest — with alternate clients negotiating cut-rate prices, knowing that the Kremlin has precious few options. The result will be a drastic slump in Russian oil income.
Such a move will admittedly not be cost-free for Europe. In the short term, the continent is likely to experience price hikes and commodity shortages. But equilibrium will be restored in time – and in a manner that disadvantages Russia.
Most of all, European leaders need to understand that the long-term costs of inaction are liable to be measured in both economic pain and humanitarian suffering, as oil revenue continues to fuel Putin’s war machine. Officials in Brussels have the ability to alter this equation, if they have the political will to do so.
Mamuka Tsereteli is Senior Fellow for Eurasia at the American Foreign Policy Council in Washington, DC.
By Svante E. Cornell
March 9, 2022
Russia's invasion of Ukraine has led to widespread condemnation and an unparalleled outpouring of support for Ukraine. At the same time, a motley crew, including some academics and former U.S. officials, has essentially blamed the war on the West, and in particular NATO enlargement. The argument is basically that Russia would not have become so aggressive if Western powers had been more accommodating. This line of thinking, however, is simply incorrect.
That’s because Russia rediscovered its imperial vocation before NATO enlargement, and the war in Ukraine is, in fact, about Putin’s great power ambitions.
Russian leaders have emphatically argued that NATO countries, led by the United States, violated assurances made to Moscow at the end of the Cold War that the alliance would not expand to the east. This claim, however, has been debunked as a myth. Even the last Soviet leader, Mikhail Gorbachev, has denied that the issue of NATO enlargement was even discussed at the time. Russian President Vladimir Putin himself did not have much to say about NATO enlargement until his infamous speech at the 2007 Munich Security Conference.
NATO's enlargement began in the mid-1990s, at a time when the alliance was embarking on a strategic shift, focusing on out-of-area operations instead territorial defense. NATO urged new member states to focus on specific cutting-edge expertise, and programs for partner countries like Georgia were mostly about training for peacekeeping operations in places like Afghanistan. NATO's shift is perhaps best illustrated by the fact that the alliance lacked a workable plan to defend the Baltic states when Russia invaded Georgia in 2008. It is really only after that war, and in particular after Moscow's annexation of Crimea in 2014, that NATO returned to its original focus on collective defense.
The real reason for the deteriorating security situation in Europe — and most blatantly the Russian invasion of Ukraine — can be found in changes that have taken place within Russia itself, and most directly the increasingly imperialist worldview of the Russian leadership.
This change began as early as 1994 and accelerated after Putin came to power. The war in the Russian breakaway republic of Chechnya from 1994 to 1996 was in many ways the starting point. Russia’s defeat there showed how far the country had fallen, leading many former Soviet republics to part ways with Russia. Moscow responded by systematically undermining neighboring states like Moldova, Georgia and Azerbaijan through the incitement of ethnic conflicts on their territories — a classic divide-and-rule tactic.
It is largely forgotten today that Putin built his political career on regaining control of Chechnya, something he did by starting a bloody war on the basis of a lie. It is generally well established today that the explosions in apartment buildings in Moscow in the summer of 1999 that Putin blamed on Chechen rebels were in fact carried out by the Russian security service under Putin's own leadership — the purpose being to create popular support for Putin's war, and by extension his leadership.
Putin's view of the world, in turn, is closely linked to his own hold on power — and that explains Russia's increasingly aggressive actions.
The “color revolutions” in Georgia and Ukraine in 2003-4 had the potential to show that democratic change could happen in former Soviet countries, something that would undermine Putin’s pursuit of authoritarian rule (what he called a "vertical of power"). Democratic rule in neighboring countries therefore had to fail.
Ukraine, in particular, was central to Putin. If a kindred Slavic and Orthodox country like Ukraine developed into a functioning democracy, this could pull the rug out from under Putin's project. If Ukraine showed that something better was possible, why should Russians be content with living under an authoritarian and corrupt regime?
For a time, Moscow tried other tactics. Pro-Russian politician Viktor Yanukovych managed to get elected as president of Ukraine in 2010, but his misrule led to the popular uprising of 2013. That event, in turn, showed that the Ukrainian people saw Europe, rather than Russia, as their future. Putin responded by annexing Crimea and starting a war in eastern Ukraine. At home, Putin's rhetoric became increasingly nationalistic, and now focused on concepts such as the "Russian world" in order to foment a divide between Russia and an allegedly decadent West.
For this to succeed, however, Putin needs to bring Belarus and Ukraine into the "Russian world," by force if necessary. This, rather than NATO enlargement, is what the war in Ukraine is about.
Svante Cornell is director of the American Foreign Policy Council’s Central Asia-Caucasus Institute.
Since the U.S. launched its Central Asia strategy in February 2020, momentous changes have taken place. The U.S. left Afghanistan, new leadership in Kyrgyzstan, and the recent unrest in Kazakhstan are only the most significant examples. Meanwhile, tensions over Ukraine dominate the U.S. foreign policy agenda. While Central Asia should be part of U.S. strategic thinking, it does not seem to be. Against this background, the Central Asia-Caucasus Institute convened a forum to discuss how U.S. Central Asia Strategy can be improved in light of these circumstances.
One of the main tools of Russian influence across Central Asia remains poorly understood.
S. Frederick Starr and Svante E. Cornell
The Diplomat, January 17, 2020
Since Vladimir Putin came to power twenty years ago, much ink has been spent detailing the role of the security services in Russian politics, and it is generally accepted that the Putin regime essentially is a result of the Soviet-era KGB's takeover of the Russian state. But few have connected this to Russian foreign policy in its neighborhood. Meanwhile, many observers have puzzled over the reluctance of former Soviet states to embrace political reform or liberalization. Many have connected this to Russia's active opposition to greater openness and political participation in neighboring states. But few have ventured into specifics – how does Russia make its influence felt? Who is the "enforcer" with the power and resolve to translate Moscow's words into action?
S. Frederick Starr
Kennan Cable No. 46, January 15, 2020
Is there a grand strategy that informs Russia’s activities abroad and, if so, what is it? For years it seemed that President Putin based his foreign policy mainly on his 2005 statement to the Russian nation that the collapse of the Soviet empire “was the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the century.” The task of Russian policy was therefore to reclaim by whatever means necessary as much control over former Soviet territories as possible. This led to his seizure of Georgian territory in 2008, his Crimean grab of 2014, and his armed incursions into eastern Ukraine in 2014-2019. More recently, it has led to his forcing Kyrgyzstan to join his politics-driven Eurasian Economic Union and his current bullying of Uzbekistan and Tajikistan to follow suit.
In practice, Russia’s foreign moves in places as diverse as Eastern Europe, Syria, and Africa seem to be guided more by opportunism than strategy. This has not sat well with some members of Moscow’s policy-oriented intelligentsia. Modern Russia, after all, is heir to a half millennium of messianic ideologies that justified and encouraged the expansion of territories under Moscow’s rule. Whether building the Third Rome, destroying the Tatars, placing the Cross of St. Vladimir atop the Hagia Sofia in Constantinople, building a Holy Alliance against future Napoleons, protecting Europe against revolution in 1848, conquering Muslim Central Asia in the 1860s, or aspiring to Sovietize Eastern Europe under Stalin, ideas, not mere opportunism, have driven Russia’s actions abroad. Even as Putin repeated his assertion about the collapse of the USSR, a deficit of theory was forming in Moscow’s foreign policy circles.
Image via Kennan Cable No. 46: Greater Eurasia: Russia's Asian Fantasy