At face value, recent years have seen a deepening in Sino-Russian cooperation, from energy agreements, to the recent Huawei-MTS deal developing a 5G network in Russia. Ever larger-in-scale joint military exercises add to fears by some that the 'axis of convenience' is now a more genuine – and threatening – partnership.

This workshop will offer a sober assessment of the latest developments in Sino-Russian relations, shedding light on the underpinnings and practical realities of the relationship as well as on the long-term challenges of upholding cooperation.

The panel will discuss the different and potentially diverging interpretations of contemporary Sino-Russian relations as well as the implications for the rules-based international order.

This event is co-organized by the Chatham House Russia and Eurasia Programme and the University of Exeter and is supported by the British International Studies Association.

Attendance at this event is by invitation only. 

Belarus’s parliamentary elections, held on 17 November, were predictably non-transparent, with numerous violations. The regime of Alexander Lukasheka allowed no opposition candidates as members of parliament – in contrast to the previous parliament, in which there were two opposition MPs. While this might seem to be a return to ‘business as usual’, three key takeaways from the elections highlight a shifting political and social landscape.

1. Lukashenka is appeasing his ruling cadre by promising to increase their role in the political system.

With several influential officials becoming new MPs, it is more likely that parliament will be more involved in any forthcoming discussion of a new constitution. Lukashenka has been promising constitutional reform for several years; he has said publicly that it will lead to an increased significance of government agencies as well as parliament. The aim of this is to keep them more engaged and on Lukashenka’s side.

In terms of the composition of the new parliament itself, there are some key differences with previous years. It is no longer a comfortable place for officials to while away their pre-retirement: many MPs are now in their fifties or younger, and have plans for careers beyond parliament.

It also looks as if small steps are being taken towards the emergence of a party system in Belarus. The leader of Belaya Rus, a pro-government association of Belarusian officials, got a seat in parliament for the first time, increasing the likelihood of it becoming a political party. The number of MPs from different parties has increased to 21 (out of 110 in total). Although these still all broadly support Lukashenka, they can differ from the president in policy positions. For example, the Labour and Justice Party, with 6 seats in parliament, supported the annexation of Crimea in 2014. Change, of course, may not necessarily be in a pro-Western direction.

Moreover, the newly elected members of parliament look more like real politicians. They go to debates, speak to independent journalists and have their own social media channels. Some have even felt able to criticize the actions of the authorities.

Similar changes have been taking place in other institutions in Belarus. The government is now more competent than it has ever been. The National Bank has managed to carry out macroeconomic stabilization on one of the most unstable currencies in Europe, while the ministries responsible for the economic development have implemented certain small-scale reforms. The Minister of the Interior has even acknowledged mistakes made by his department (under his predecessor), and undertaken to make improvements.

This has resulted in a near-comical situation, whereby the Belarusian non-state media outlets have an increasingly positive view of some state officials, such as Prime Minister Siarhei Rumas, while the state media has been scaling back its coverage of him to ensure he does not become too popular.

2. Belarus has less need for the West and is reluctant to make even small concessions.

Since the slight warming of Belarusian relations with the West in 2014, Lukashenka has been having more meetings with prominent Western officials. Western institutions began trying to cooperate more closely with Belarus, but soon saw that it was not very interested. In 2018, the European Bank of Reconstruction and Development allocated €360 million to Belarus. However, it is now considering a reduction, as reforms in Belarus have not, in its view, gone far enough. The European Union has also committed considerable time and money to regional authorities, but this has not brought any significant changes to Belarusian local government.

The absence of opposition candidates also demonstrates that the Belarusian authorities are prepared for a new deterioration of relations with the West. The authorities could certainly have afforded some opposition in parliament, especially since they themselves choose whom to appoint. Given that they did not, they either do not consider worsened relations a problem or are confident that the West will continue to cooperate with Belarus in order to limit Russian power, regardless of its violations of the rule of law.

3. There is growing popular dissatisfaction with the current regime, but the state has no good plan for how to deal with it.

Parliamentary election campaigns in Belarus are traditionally low-key, but this year they were particularly muted. The authorities tried to ensure that people knew as little about the election as possible. Campaign posters appeared on the streets just two weeks before polling day. It seems the authorities were reluctant to politicize society, as further resentment at autocratic rule is brewing.

Many Belarusians who previously supported Lukashenka now have a very critical opinion of him. Take political blogging: the most popular political blogger in Belarus is a 22-year-old man who goes by the name of NEXTA. He produces low-quality videos which are highly critical of the authorities. A film by him about Lukashenka, released a month ago, has already received 1.8 million views, even though there are only 9.5 million people in Belarus.

The authorities are not in a concessionary mood. The presidential elections in 2020 will also likely be a sham. If the authorities’ grip over the country is weakened, they will fear an outbreak of anger, resulting in widespread protests which the regime might once again have to meet with violence.

Leaders of the resource-rich Central Asian region have the propensity to remain in power until mortality dictates otherwise. Much like the UK and Brexit, however, few wanted to see Central Asia’s longest reigning ruler, Kazakhstan’s septuagenarian president Nursultan Nazarbayev, crash out without a deal.

The sudden departure of the country’s official leader of the nation with no clear succession plan could have led to investment chaos, intra-elite fighting and the unravelling in a matter of months of a system he had built over decades, à la Uzbekistan following the death of long-serving autocrat Islam Karimov in 2016.

In order to avoid just such a ‘no-deal’ scenario and ensure the continuity of his policies, in March Nazarbayev carefully choreographed his own resignation and the election of a hand-picked successor, President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev, while retaining plum positions and powers for himself.

Tokayev’s assumption of the presidency was accompanied by protesters in the streets, increasing wealth inequality, rising Sinophobia among rank-and-file Kazakhstanis, a hard-to-kick economic dependence on oil revenues and a lack of clarity as to which leader—the old or the new president—would actually be calling the shots. But, amidst this plethora of concerns, as argued in a recent Chatham House report, Kazakhstan: Tested by Transition, one bright spot has been the tangible growth of intra-Central Asian cooperation, with the Nazarbayev-Tokayev ruling duo appearing eager to improve the regional dialogue.

Kazakhstan has long shaped its identity as a Eurasian state that has acted as more of an intermediary between Russia and Central Asia than as an integral part of the Central Asian region. But since 2017, in particular, Kazakhstan has been increasingly looking for opportunities to boost hitherto weak cooperation with its Central Asian neighbours. While this is first and foremost owing to the liberalization of Uzbekistan’s large market, there are other factors at work that get less airplay.

One such factor is a perceptible disentangling from the Kremlin’s policy directions as Kazakhstan has come to view Russia’s foreign policy as increasingly neo-colonial. The example of the Russia-led Eurasian Economic Union is in many respects more off-putting than inspiring, and Nur-Sultan does not want to be locked tightly into the union’s economic orbit. And in distancing itself slightly from Moscow in order to limit Russian leverage in its affairs, Nur-Sultan has shown itself to be more open to Central Asian regional initiatives.

As part of the leadership’s plan to offset oil dependence, Kazakhstan aspires to become the transport, telecommunications and investment hub for Eurasian integration. The intense focus on connectivity and the development of logistical arteries and infrastructure could have the knock-on effect of boosting trade within the Central Asian region and reducing transit times, which are currently greater than in most other parts of the globe.

In addition, demographic trends and educational shifts that favour ethnic Kazakhs, together with a growing ethno-nationalist narrative, have allowed the state’s leadership to identify more closely with Kazakhstan’s common Central Asian heritage and, by extension, a common Central Asian region—although Kazakhstan’s leadership still remains eager to demonstrate that the country is not just another ‘stan’. The coming to power of President Mirziyoyev in Uzbekistan appears to have made Kazakhstan more aware of the interconnectedness of the two countries in terms of geographical location and potential economic complementarities, as well as culture and history.

Not least, there is a growing recognition among the Central Asian states themselves—including isolationist Turkmenistan to a degree—that deepening regional trade is mutually beneficial, especially given the constraints associated with Russia’s economic problems. The strengthening of Kazakhstan’s ties with Uzbekistan has slowly kick-started regional cooperation as a whole: trade turnover between the Central Asian states in 2018 grew by 35 per cent on the previous year.

But both Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan are keen to stress that there is no discussion of integration or institutionalization, not least because previous attempts at integration have been overtaken by Russia, leaving Central Asia without its own coordinating body.

The official consensus in Kazakhstan is that Uzbekistan’s economic reforms after years of isolation will spur ‘a healthy rivalry’ and ultimately boost Kazakhstan’s own economy, in so far as the competition for foreign investment will require both countries to work harder to improve their respective business and regulatory environments.

At the unofficial level, however, some Kazakhstani analysts view Uzbekistan’s rise as potentially unprofitable, given the possible diversion of some investments and market activity from Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan. Moreover, Uzbekistan has the advantage of having undergone a clear change of executive, while it remains unclear which developments await Kazakhstan once First President Nazarbayev leaves the scene for good.

It can certainly be argued that Uzbekistan does pose a potential threat in the long-term to Kazakhstan’s entrenched position as Central Asia’s economic powerhouse: Uzbekistan’s population is one-and-a-half times bigger, even if its nominal GDP is three times smaller. Uzbekistan has a bigger market and a well-developed industrial sector, and is already the regional leader in terms of security. But it is not as though the world’s interest is moving from Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan; rather, Uzbekistan is in the process of trying to catch up.

Despite this relatively upbeat picture, Kazakhstan’s combined trade with the other Central Asian states accounts for less than 5 per cent of its total volume of foreign trade—a figure that cannot begin to equal its trade with Russia, China, and Europe. As a result, Kazakhstan will continue to give greater importance to positioning itself as a global player than as a regional leader.

This article was originally published in The Diplomat.

Summary

• Russia’s economic management is currently praised for its achievement of macroeconomic stability. Inflation has been brought down; the budget is in surplus; national debt is low; and the reserves are ample. At the same time, there is much criticism of the failure at present to secure more than very slow economic growth.
• The macro-stabilization of 2014–18 was of a conventional, ‘liberal’ kind. Public spending was cut, and a budget rule was introduced that (so far) has weakened the link between increases in oil prices and increases in budgetary expenditure. The austerity campaign was harsh. Pensioners, the military, regional budgets and business all lost out, but in reality put up little resistance. The austerity drive was facilitated by the autocratic nature of the regime.
• The growth slowdown dates from 2012, and cannot simply be blamed on falls in the oil price and sanctions. Rapid growth in 1999–2008 consisted in large part of recovery from the deep recession of the 1990s and the initial development of a services sector. These sources of growth are no longer available; investment is low; and the labour force is declining. The Western world also has a slow growth problem, but at a higher level of per capita output. In Russia, private investment and competition are inhibited by an intrusive and corrupt state. If the rule of law were in place, the economy would perform better in the long run. That would require a profound reform of formal and informal institutions.
• The leadership wants faster growth, but has powerful incentives not to embark on systemic reform. Even the pragmatic ministers of the ‘economic bloc’ of government, who understand the problem, share this interest in maintaining the status quo. Growth is thus being sought through a highly ambitious programme, in 2018–24, of ‘national projects’, state-led and largely state-financed. This is already running into difficulties.
• The contrast between successful stabilization and a (so far) unsuccessful growth strategy illustrates the difference between policymaking within a given system and reform of that system. Systemic reform brings with it more potential unintended consequences than do changes in policy. In the case of Russia, movement towards a rule of law could destabilize the social and political system. It is therefore unlikely to be attempted.

Two December meetings between Presidents Vladimir Putin and Alexander Lukashenka failed to deliver Moscow’s hopes of securing Minsk’s acceptance of closer alignment between Russia and Belarus.

Over the past year, relations between Belarus and Russia have been under unprecedented strain as Moscow has tried to encourage Minsk to sign up to a different format of relations designed to keep Belarus firmly in a Russian orbit. Details of the negotiations have remained secret, yet issues on the table appear to include unification of tax and customs systems, a common energy regulator and joint governing bodies.

The Kremlin believes that Belarus needs to deliver more in return for Russia’s continued economic support, worth around $10 billion per year. In December 2018, it issued an ultimatum: Belarus would only continue to receive a discounted price for oil and gas and enjoy preferential access to the Russian market if it agreed to reanimate the largely dormant 1999 Union Treaty that called for the unification of Belarus with Russia.

During 2019, frantic work took place on both sides to prepare a detailed framework for achieving deeper integration between the two countries. This did not succeed in overcoming a set of long-standing issues related to economic relations.

To step up pressure, the Russian prime minister, Dmitri Medvedev, signalled in early December that Russia would withhold economic privileges for Belarus pending full implementation of 30 integration road maps that he claimed had already been agreed. To the alarm of Minsk, he also suggested that discussion of a 31st roadmap would follow to include the creation of a single currency and supranational institutions. The Belarusian authorities view this level of integration as a threat to national sovereignty.

On the surface, Belarus’ negotiating position is weak. By resisting market reforms that could have diversified imports and exports, Lukashenka has instead kept the economy tied to Russia; 40% of Belarusian exports go to Russia. In addition, Russia has decreased its reliance on imports from Belarus as part of a broad policy of import substitution.

Raising the gas price will deprive Belarusian companies of their comparative advantage.  Approximately 90% of Belarus’s electricity and heat is generated by natural gas imported from Russia at below market prices. Petroleum products refined from Russian crude oil that is supplied duty-free to Belarus account for the largest source of the country’s export earnings.

Minsk fears that the current oil taxation reform in Russia could cause Belarus losses of up to $9 billion by 2024 as a result of higher prices for Russian oil and the loss of export duties. Economic growth slowed from 3% in 2018 to just over 1% in 2019 and could fall further if Russia does not grant concessions on the oil price.

The country’s high level of public debt denominated in foreign currency makes the need to find cash more urgent and exacerbates the Russian pressure. Russia is Belarus’ biggest creditor, accounting for 38% of state debt.

However, Lukashenka is a master of negotiation with the Kremlin, with a talent for turning weakness into strength.

First, by eliminating political competition in Belarus, he has given Putin no option but to deal with him personally. Second, he understands that Moscow needs to present integration between the two countries as voluntary and does not want to use economic sanctions or other tools of persuasion that could destabilize Belarus. Third, he knows that there is no consensus in Moscow on creating a single currency. Unification of the tax systems would also be problematic because of their different structures. If these measures were implemented, Moscow could end up paying much larger subsidies to keep Belarus stable.

Minsk is therefore likely to pursue three options: dragging out the negotiations with Moscow, while continuing to declare its commitment to closer union with Russia; seeking alternative sources of energy and credits; and reforming the economy to lower its dependency on Russia.

Although Lukashenka is mindful of potential risks and threats to his power from economic liberalization, he is open to changes in some areas, such as further developing the successful IT sector, privatising non-strategic state-owned enterprises and increasing trade with EU countries.

These reforms will most likely continue, although this year’s presidential election may distract attention, as Lukashenka seeks a sixth term in the knowledge that his popularity is falling. He may also need to divert some economic resources to maintain the support of his core electorate.

For the moment, Moscow does not appear to be in a hurry, believing that Lukashenka and Belarus are going nowhere and that concessions by Minsk are only a matter of time.

Vladimir Putin’s goal of restoring Russia’s status as a great power has led to an aggressive foreign policy and confrontation with its immediate neighbours as well as Western countries.

Sergei Medvedev, author of The Return of the Russian Leviathan, will discuss the forces shaping Russian politics and society today as well as how a nostalgia for empire – still widespread in contemporary Russia - has shaped Moscow’s foreign policy.

Attendance at this event is by invitation only.

Russia’s published development agenda to 2024 focused on gaining advantage from its human capital. In reality however, issues surrounding Russia’s population remain a major challenge, considering its demographic trends, an undoubted brain drain and societal divisions.

This expert roundtable will explore the current state of – and interconnections between – human and social capital in Russia. The speakers will also address Russia’s regional disparities, migration effects and political elite dynamics and their relationship to the population at large.

The scale of the changes in Russia’s political system is yet to be fully understood, as new suggestions for revising the constitution appear almost daily. This event will discuss the risks of President Putin’s 15 January announcement, and what strategies Russia’s non-systemic opposition might now deploy in response.

Six years after the annexation of Crimea and the start of the armed conflict in Donbas, the process of coalescing the Ukrainian society around a common civic identity remains complex. Ukraine comprises many ethno-linguistic identities, and various internal and external actors have been able to exploit old and new grievances to increase tensions at the regional and local level.

The panellists will discuss the conflict dynamics along parts of Ukraine’s international border and the line of contact with Crimea. The speakers will review the internal political, social and economic trends that cause friction and suggest ways to strengthen cohesion.

The event will build upon key findings from International Alert’s analysis of the south of Odesa, Kherson and Zakarpattia oblasts and on the reintegration of veterans in Ukraine.

This event is organized in partnership with International Alert, supported by UK aid from the UK government as part of the Peace Research Partnership programme.

Earlier this month, US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo became the highest-ranking US official to visit Belarus since Bill Clinton in 1994. After meetings with Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenka – who Condoleezza Rice once memorably described as ‘Europe’s last dictator’ – Pompeo said he was ‘optimistic about our strengthened relationship’. 

The EU and its member states have also changed their tune, at least a little. Previously, prosecutions of democratic activists led to sanctions against the Lukashenka regime. But his less-than-liberal manner of governance did not prevent him from visiting Austria last November or from receiving invitations to Brussels. 

Eight years ago, most EU contacts with Belarusian officials were frozen. Now, Western diplomats regularly meet with Belarusian officials again. This year, a US ambassador to Belarus will be appointed after a 12-year break.

The West is also more willing to support Belarus financially. The European Bank for Reconstruction and Development invested a record-breaking $433 million in the country in 2019. The European Investment Bank only began working with the country in 2017 but already has a portfolio of $600 million.

Certain policymakers in the EU and US now, at least publicly, appear to regard Lukashenka as one of the sources of regional security and a defender of Belarusian sovereignty against Russia.

There is some truth in this. He has taken a neutral position in Russia’s conflict with Ukraine, and he has consistently resisted pressure from the Kremlin to establish a military base in Belarus.

Now, amid Moscow’s demands for deeper integration in exchange for the continuation of Russian energy subsidies, Lukashenka has shown reluctance to sell his autonomy. In a token attempt to portray sovereignty Belarus even started buying oil from Norway, although this makes no economic sense.

But Lukashenka’s long-term record shows he has done little to ensure the country’s sovereignty. Lukashenka has resisted reforms that would have strengthened the economy (because they would have weakened his own position). The political system is also dependent on Russia because Lukashenka has been unwilling to build better relations with the West. Belarusians are still strongly influenced by Russian culture and media because the authorities marginalize their own national identity.

Since the conflict in Ukraine in 2014, Lukashenka’s primary goal has not been to strengthen the sovereignty of Belarus, but to preserve his absolute control over the country.

For example, when in 2018 Russia started pressing Belarus to deepen its integration in order to retain economic support, Minsk did not reject this approach outright; instead, it discussed no less than 31 ‘road maps’ for deepening integration for more than a year, hoping to receive more benefits. For Lukashenka, greater dependency on Russia is a matter of price and conditions, not principle. 

None of this is to say Belarus has illusions about Russia. It is just that Lukashenka does not take long-term steps to protect the country’s sovereignty or to strengthen relations with the West.

Belarus needs to start economic reform with the support of the International Monetary Fund, but this cannot happen without Lukashenka’s genuine commitment to transform the economy. Absence of cross-sectoral reform has led to the deterioration of the education system as well as unprecedented emigration. Few Belarusian experts are optimistic about their country’s future. Lukashenka knows all this, but does not change his system, fearing it would damage the stability of his regime.  

The West should therefore adopt a broader policy. Lukashenka is unlikely to still be president in 10–15 years, so policymakers should develop relations with the broader ruling elite, which will remain after he leaves, and try to be present in Belarus as much as possible helping it to improve public governance and develop private businesses.

The West should also support the country’s civil society and independent media, for whom Belarusian independence is a matter of principle rather than something to be bargained away.

Lukashenka may be a strong leader, but the state he has built is weak.

Japan and Russia are often referred to as 'distant neighbours'. 

In the early days of Prime Minister Shinzo Abe's second term in 2012, Japan sought to open a new era of bilateral relations with Russia. However, recent negotiations on the Kuril Islands/Northern Territories territorial dispute have stalled. Despite Abe’s extensive efforts to resolve the dispute, no concrete agreement has been reached so far. 

The speaker will provide an overview of the current state of Japan-Russia relations, including the prospect of resolving the territorial dispute during Prime Minister Abe's remaining days in office.

Russia annexed Ukraine’s Crimean peninsula in 2014. Despite Russia’s interpretation of its rights to the peninsula, international law and the international community, including the UN General Assembly and the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe, regard Crimea as occupied and do not recognize any changes to its status. Against this backdrop, Ukraine has attempted to hold Russia accountable for the annexation through the international courts. 

The panellists assess the effectiveness of Ukraine’s reliance on lawfare as a means of holding Russia accountable for its alleged wrongs. What is the role of the International Criminal Court in addressing alleged war crimes and crimes against humanity perpetrated by Russia in the occupied peninsula? Were lengthy International Court of Justice proceedings, for example on the narrow issue of alleged racial discrimination in Crimea, worth launching? What further institutional and legislative reforms are needed to support justice and reconciliation in war-affected Ukraine? And what does this all mean for the situation on the ground?

Russia’s Middle East policy is driven by a complex mixture of traditional factors (such as the ongoing confrontation with the West) and new trends. The Kremlin is keen to maintain its position as an influential external broker. However, it is not confident Russia would be able to respond effectively if forced into a reactive mode by other regional players. The Kremlin therefore seeks to retain initiative and shape the agenda according to its needs and resources. This makes prediction of Moscow’s next moves in the region a challenging, but not impossible, task.

Nikolay Kozhanov will offer remarks on the changes that have taken place in Russia’s strategy since the publication of his research paper Russian Policy Across the Middle East: Motivations and Methods (2018).

PLEASE NOTE THIS EVENT IS POSTPONED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

With Putin’s current term as head of state due to run out in 2024, the question everybody has been asking is what he will do to remain in power. The Russian president’s recent speech, made in person in the State Duma during the second reading of his own constitutional reform bill, has been interpreted by many as a clear answer. Summaries such as “Putin forever” and “perpetual Putin” abound. But the reality is not so clear.

Putin has not committed to standing for re-election in 2024, never mind staying in power until 2036, when two additional six-year terms from 2024 would run out. What he has done is provide the constitutional grounds to retain power as president. It creates a highly credible option without committing him to it.

And the uncertainty matters. Because as long as members of the elite are unsure whether Putin will take up the option to remain president, they are kept in check.

Broader constitutional reform

With the flurry of interest around Putin’s announcement, we should not lose sight of his moves to further strengthen the presidency. As part of the broader constitutional reform package, Russia’s existing “super-presidency” will gain additional powers, such as the authority to fire top-tier judges and to block legislation when the legislature has overridden a presidential veto (in other words, a “super-veto”).

The proposals also put the autonomy of local self-government at risk, with Moscow and regional executives gaining the constitutional power to hire and fire officials who are not even technically part of the state. And the president now has a formalised role as “general leader” of the government. Putin is creating the “Great Presidency”.

However, the majority of constitutional changes do not relate to the presidency – they have different purposes. Firstly, to revitalise support for the regime which took a hit following unpopular pension reforms in 2018. Secondly, to distract or appease those worried by Putin remaining in a strengthened presidency. And perhaps most significantly, to boost turnout in the nationwide vote on reforms.

This desire to re-energise popular support becomes apparent as the changes – some of which will have to be inserted rather awkwardly into the constitution’s structure – focus on three elements aimed squarely at improving the regime’s appeal: increased material support from the state for citizens, including indexing state pensions; an emphasis on “traditional values”, including a declaration that marriage can only be a union between a man and a woman; and increased Russian sovereignty, including a “nationalisation” of the elite, with a constitutional ban on top-level officials having bank accounts abroad. 

Constitutional reform is, moreover, the most visible part of a broader political transformation already underway, including a major propaganda drive. Putin has promised a significant increase in resources for its “maternity capital” programme, putting more money in the pockets of young Russian families.

And he has instructed Prime Minister Mikhail Mishustin’s government to focus on delivering his “national projects” – goals aimed at improving Russians’ lives across a range of areas, from infrastructure to education and healthcare.

Taking advantage of several imminent historical milestones is also on the cards. It has been reported Putin will sign the constitutional reform bill on March 18 – the anniversary of Russia’s annexation of Crimea. And May 9 is the 75th anniversary of the end of the Great Patriotic War (the Russian term for the Second World War), with foreign dignitaries invited to attend events in Moscow.

Putin has also been filling the airwaves with a high-production-values series called “20 Questions for Vladimir Putin”, as well as holding public meetings with citizens in provinces such as Cherepovets and Ivanovo. There is a clear aim to demonstrate the president is not only still in control, but also concerned with the well-being of everyday Russians.

With parliamentary elections scheduled for September 2021 the Kremlin knows that, to maintain its control of a super-majority of seats in the State Duma, its ratings-raising drive has to work – even if it does always have the option of using manifestly authoritarian methods for realising desired election results. A proposal to call early State Duma elections was made during the second reading of Putin’s reform bill, but was quickly withdrawn after Putin spoke out against the idea.

Russia’s complex architecture of “power”

Throughout this transformation, maintaining control of the elite – particularly of the siloviki – is key for Putin. A reshuffling and removal of senior officials in the Procuracy has seen Yury Chaika replaced as general prosecutor by Ivan Krasnov, previously a deputy chair of the Investigative Committee, which is widely seen as a rival structure in Russia’s complex architecture of “power” bodies.

When considered alongside the constitutional changes giving the president broader powers in appointing regional prosecutors, this is textbook “divide and rule”. Power balancing is also on display with the Security Council, as the job description for Dmitry Medvedev’s new role as its deputy chair could provide fertile ground for clashes with the body’s secretary, Nikolai Patrushev.

Pitting rival patronal networks against each other means Putin can keep rivals in check within the broader structure of the “Great Presidency”, while staying firmly in control himself.

The prospect of Putin remaining president is unlikely to be popular. According to data from independent Russian polling agency the Levada Centre, only 27 per cent of Russians want Putin to stay in the post after 2024. This figure could, of course, change in either direction as the prospect becomes more real for Russians. But if Putin’s announcement galvanises mass opposition, the authorities may well use responses to the COVID-19 outbreak to keep protesters at bay – something already on display in Moscow.

What this all means for Russia is that, despite the drama, considerable uncertainty remains following Putin’s announcement. What we can say for certain, however, is that it dashes hopes of serious political change any time soon.

Persistent internet rumours claiming the coronavirus outbreak originated from a secret American pharmaceutical company with the aim of destroying China from within were quickly discredited. Pop culture fans recognised the supposed activities of the Umbrella Corporation as being from the famous Japanese video games series Resident Evil.

However, although fake news, it can likely be attributed to Russian trolls conducting this and other similar activities online, especially when considered within the wider context of how the Russian regime is using this worldwide crisis to further destabilize the West and test its resolve.

Russian trolls never sleep

Russia’s COVID-19 related actions first and foremost take the form of a vast information warfare campaign, with media outlets simultaneously downplaying the threat of the pandemic - ‘it is less dangerous than seasonal flu’ - while stoking fear about what is happening elsewhere in Europe.

For the domestic audience in Russia, some media are reporting the pandemic marks the collapse of the Western world and liberalism altogether, calling it a form of collective punishment. Other point out how fast liberal democracies have curbed individual and entrepreneurial freedoms in order to slow down the viral outbreak, and seek to diminish the credibility of the Western response to the crisis.

Exploiting the coronavirus crisis in this way is a new low in Russia’s wider political warfare campaign to undermine global governance overall, as these activities are detrimental to people's very safety. For example, in Ukraine, it is thought a Russian-engineered disinformation operation may have caused the outburst of violence in the city of Novi Sanzhary following the arrival of evacuees from China.

In the military realm, fake news has been targeting the US-led multinational exercise DEFENDER-Europe 2020. The Russian leadership criticized the exercise as an offensive ‘anti-Russian scenario’ but then used accompanying propaganda that it could actively facilitate the spread of COVID-19 across Europe because of the arrival and movement of large numbers of troops.

The large-scale drills were planned to involve 18 participating nations and should have taken place across ten European countries from April to May 2020. But the exercise has now been scaled down – as has the Russian disinformation targeting it.

And while the world is pre-occupied with managing COVID-19, Moscow is able to grow bolder in its provocations. Recent air incursions were reported into Irish controlled airspace as well as over the North Sea. Although this practice is - unfortunately - routine as part of Russian constant military sabre-rattling, it does increase the risk of tactical errors and miscalculation.

Self-isolation, Kremlin style

Meanwhile, just when a global response is needed to fight the pandemic, Moscow’s response has been, at best, self-serving. On March 22, Russian military reportedly started sending medical equipment and supplies to Italy. While the nature and the scope of this assistance can be doubted, it still represents a charm offensive for Russia to be brought back in from the cold in Europe - since successive Italian leaderships have been accommodating to the Kremlin. And sending virologists to Italy might also be a useful learning curve for Russia’s regime.

But within Russia itself, Vladimir Putin does have to face the problem that, on top of all the projected social and healthcare costs, the coronavirus is also having negative political consequences. On March 25, the ‘popular vote’ - a mock referendum designed to rubber-stamp Putin’s recent constitutional changes - was pushed back. And the Ministry of Communications has been forced to postpone a major exercise aimed at ensuring the ‘stable and safe operation of Runet’ - namely eliminating vulnerabilities in the Russian ‘sovereign’ internet to potential external threats.

Certainly it would be naive to believe Moscow will put self-interest to one side during this pandemic. ‘International distancing’ is not new for the Kremlin, and Russia has been practising self-isolation since at least 2008 through its own actions, most notably in Georgia and Ukraine.

Its self-perception as a ‘besieged fortress’ is being reinforced by this crisis and Russia will, at the very least, likely come out of the crisis feeling vindicated in its view that internationalism is dying or already dead.

With the health systems of many countries under massive strain, and societal resilience being tested by social distancing, the Kremlin continues to probe for weaknesses, and is also carefully watching other countries’ responses to the crisis in terms of adaptation and mobilization of resources.

COVID-19 provides a major intelligence-gathering opportunity for Moscow to learn how well others can implement wartime-like planning in peacetime. In a rapidly changing world, Russia is still Russia.

Politically speaking, Russia has been isolating itself from the West for some years now, feeding its citizens a ‘besieged fortress’ mentality. Its uniqueness, however, means its approach to - and outcome from - the COVID-19 pandemic will also be distinctive. 

This webinar will explore how Russia is adapting its internal politics and its international relations to the ‘new normal’ of today. 

It has been nearly six years since the West imposed sanctions on Russia, targeting Russia's energy, defence and financial sectors. The sanctions exposed Russia's key vulnerabilities - dependence on Western capital and advanced technology, with knock-on effects in other sectors.

In an effort to offset the impact of sanctions, Russia has attempted a diversification strategy to non-Western states. The Asia-Pacific has emerged as a new export market for hydrocarbons and weapons, and as the main alternative to Western capital. Russia's self-proclaimed 'turn to the East' is intended to alleviate the sanctions burden and buy valuable time to come up with long-term solutions; but it has come at a high cost. 

In this discussion, Maria Shagina will examine the ways in which Asian states have helped mitigate the impact of Western sanctions and the pitfalls associated with it, while assessing the implications of Russia's pivot to Asia on its import substitution policy, and the effectiveness of sanctions overall.

Both Russia and China have mounted combined charm offensives and disinformation campaigns on the back of the pandemic. Shipments of ‘aid’ – reportedly of questionable utility and quality - have gone hand in hand with a concerted effort to deflect any blame from China for the early spread, and an ongoing drive by Russia to undermine states’ confidence and have sanctions lifted.

These concurrent operations have very different objectives, as Russia seeks to subvert international order while China is continuing its bid to demonstrate global leadership - but in both cases, they are seeking long-term gains by exploiting the inattention and distraction of their targets.

Both seek to present themselves as globally responsible stakeholders, but for divergent reasons – especially China which needs the rest of the world to recover and return to stability to ensure its own economic recovery. But despite this, the two campaigns appear superficially similar.

Fertile ground for disinformation

One reason lies in the unique nature of the current crisis. Unlike political issues that are local or regional in nature, COVID-19 affects everybody worldwide. The perceived lack of reliable information about the virus provides fertile ground for information and disinformation campaigns, especially feeding on fear, uncertainty and doubt. But Russia in particular would not be succeeding in its objectives without mis-steps and inattention by Western governments.

Confused reporting on Russia sending medical supplies to the United States showed Moscow taking advantage of a US administration in apparent disarray. Claims Russia was sending ’humanitarian aid’ were only belatedly countered by the US State Department pointing out it had been paid for. Meanwhile the earlier arrival of Russian military equipment in Italy also scored a propaganda victory for Russia, facilitated by curious passivity by the Italian government.

In both cases Russia also achieved secondary objectives. With the United States, Russia scored bonus points by shipping equipment produced by a subsidiary of a company under US sanctions. In the case of Italy, Russian state media made good use of misleading or heavily edited video clips to give the impression of widespread Italian acclaim for Russian aid, combined with disdain for the efforts of the EU.

Beijing’s external information campaigns have sought to deflect or defuse criticism of its early mishandling and misinformation on coronavirus and counter accusations of secrecy and falsifying data while also pursuing an opportunity to exercise soft power. For Moscow, current efforts boost a long-standing and intensive campaign to induce the lifting of sanctions, demonstrating if nothing else that sanctions are indeed an effective measure. Official and unofficial lobbying has intensified in numerous capital cities, and will inevitably find supporters.

But both the aid and the information campaigns are seriously flawed. While appropriate and useful aid for countries that are struggling should of course be welcomed, both Russian and Chinese equipment delivered to Europe has repeatedly been found to be inappropriate or defective. 

Russian photographs of cardboard boxes stacked loose and unsecured in a transport aircraft bound for the United States sparked alarm and disbelief among military and aviation experts - and there has still been no US statement on what exactly was purchased, and whether it was found to be fit for purpose when it arrived.

Reporting from Italy that the Russian equipment delivered there was ‘80% useless’ has not been contradicted by the Italian authorities. In fact, although the Italian sources criticizing Russia remain anonymous it is striking that - President Trump aside - no government has publicly endorsed materials and assistance received from Russia as actually being useful and helpful.

Even in Serbia, with its traditionally close ties with Russia, the only information forthcoming on the activities of the Russian Nuclear, Biological and Chemical Protection Troops and their equipment that arrived on April 3 was from Russian press releases.

Both countries’ strategic communications efforts are similarly fallible. China’s notoriously heavy-handed approach to its critics is of only limited use in the face of such a severe and immediate threat. One suggestion that the virus originated in the US – an early response to US criticism – has already been walked back by the Chinese diplomat who made it.

And Russia continues to be capable of spectacularly misjudging its targets. When investigative journalists looked more closely at the nature of the assistance to Italy, Russia’s official response was rage and personal threats, laying bare the real nature of the campaign and immediately alienating many of those whom Moscow had sought to win over.

Errors and deficiencies such as these provide opportunities to mitigate the worst side-effects of the campaigns. And actions by individuals can also mitigate much of the impact. The most effective disinformation plays on deeply emotional issues and triggers visceral rather than rational reactions.

Advocates of ’informational distancing’ as well as social distancing suggest a tactical pause to assess information calmly, instead of reacting or spreading it further unthinkingly. This approach would bolster not only calm dispassionate assessment of the real impact of Russian and Chinese actions, but also counter spreading of misinformation on the pandemic as a whole - especially when key sources of disinformation are national leaders seeking to politicize or profit from the crisis.

Limitations of Russian and Chinese altruism must be stated clearly and frankly to fill gaps in public understanding. Where help is genuine, it should of course be welcomed: but if it is the case that assistance received from Moscow or Beijing is not appropriate, not useful, or not fit for purpose, this should be acknowledged publicly.

Even without central direction or coordination with other Russian strategic communications efforts, the self-perpetuating Russian disinformation ecosystem continues to push narratives designed to undermine confidence in institutions and their ability to deal with the crisis. This too must continue to be monitored closely and countered where it matters.

In all cases, miscalculations by Russia or China that expose the true intent of their campaigns – no matter how different their objectives might be - should be watched for closely and highlighted where they occur.

Despite the enormity of the present emergency it is not a time for any government to relax its vigilance over longer-term threats. States must not lose sight of manoeuvres seeking to exploit weakness and distraction. If Russia and China emerge from the current crisis with enhanced authority and unjustifiably restored reputations, this will make it still harder to resist their respective challenges to the current rules-based international order in the future.

Soon after assuming power in 1994, President Aliaksandr Lukashenka turned his back on democratic norms and overpowered the Belarusian political elite. However, the influence of the governing elite in Belarus is growing again. It seems likely that the current governing class could rule the country after Lukashenka leaves. It is thus important to study Belarusian elites not only to understand the current regime, but also to better forecast and navigate the political system that will one day replace it. 

This study group aims to disentangle how the Belarusian political system works, outline the types of individuals that make up the Belarusian ruling elite, assess the interaction of the elite and institutions with the West, and suggest changes that Western political actors might make to their approach to the Belarusian ruling class.

Since the World Health Organisation (WHO) declared COVID-19 a pandemic, few countries have chosen to ignore social distancing recommendations. But, even among those states which have, the Belarusian official response to its epidemic remains unique.

President Aliaksandr Lukashenka’s statements that vodka, sauna and tractors are protecting Belarusians from coronavirus attracted amused attention in international media. Lukashenka also described other societies’ response to COVID-19 as ‘a massive psychosis’.

Although Lukashenka is notorious for his awkward style of public communication, the fact that Belarus is refusing to impose comprehensive confinement measures is of concern. Belarusians continue to work, play football and socialise.

Lukashenka, himself playing ice hockey in front of state cameras, claims it is the best way to stay healthy. Belarusian authorities clearly appear to be in denial – and this could have dire humanitarian consequences.

From denial to half measures

Belarus actually has one of the largest numbers of hospital beds in the world per 1,000 of the population. But in the absence of quarantine measures its health system, already crippled by corruption and embezzlement, is likely to be overwhelmed.

Patients being treated for pneumonia in hospitals have suggested medical staff are uninformed and inadequately equipped. It is claimed doctors are not reporting COVID-19 as the suspected cause of death, either through a lack of testing or for fear of reprisals.

Observers believe the real mortality rate is already well above official figures (40 deaths as of 16 April). Based on an Imperial College London model, between 15,000 and 32,000 people could die under the current mild confinement regime – and such a high death toll would hugely impact the country’s political stability. Citing personal data protection, the Ministry of Health has imposed a total news blackout; the only cluster officially acknowledged so far is the city of Vitsebsk.

Although specific Belarusian cities and some individuals started changing their approach – by extending school vacations or cancelling weddings – such measures remain half-hearted.

Clearly a major reason for such an apparently irresponsible reaction is that Belarus cannot afford a massive lockdown that would freeze its already underdeveloped economy and drive it deeper into recession. Unlike many other nations, Belarus lacks budgetary resources for a sizable stimulus package. But a delayed response might backfire on the economy.

Economic recession has been forecast to amount to at least 10% of GDP. For Lukashenka, who openly challenged conventional wisdom regarding the need for quarantine and isolation, such an economic downturn would harm his confidence rating in the eyes of Belarusian voters, mindful of the state’s mismanagement of the crisis. And it could create doubt within the ruling elite itself, with Lukashenka seeking re-election for a sixth mandate in late August.

Against this backdrop, a radicalization of the opposition-minded part of society is also to be expected, with greater reliance on social networks in the face of official secrecy and disinformation. The expected response of the regime is then likely to be pre-emptive repression. Evidence is emerging that law enforcement agencies have already stepped up judicial and paralegal harassment of dissenters, notably independent journalists and bloggers.

Russia’s initial reluctance to address the coronavirus crisis may also have influenced Belarus. Lukashenka and his administration often react to public health challenges by the Soviet rulebook, reminiscent of the Soviet authorities’ mismanagement of the Chernobyl disaster in 1986.

Russia has unilaterally closed its borders with Belarus and, as bilateral relations continue to deteriorate, this casts further doubt on the viability of the Union State of Belarus and Russia. Pro-Russian media forecast Moscow will be unwilling to alleviate the expected socio-economic crisis, as it continues to reject Minsk’s demands regarding subsidised oil deliveries. Yet the Kremlin might use the crisis as an opportunity to resume its integrationist pressure on Belarus.

China, with which Belarus engaged in a seemingly privileged strategic partnership in the 2010s, was actually the first country to dispatch humanitarian aid to beef up Belarusian capacity to fight the virus.

But Minsk should not expect Beijing to rescue its economy and, unless it commits to more internal reforms, Belarus is not likely to receive much from the EU either. The regime has already applied to the IMF for emergency financial support, but conditions are attached and, even if successful, the funds would amount to no more than $900m.

The government’s decision to take only half measures so far is rooted in the hope COVID-19 is not as bad as foreign experts fear. But, unless the leadership acknowledges the public health crisis and mitigates its economic impact, COVID-19 will accelerate Belarus’s slide back into international self-isolation. If combined with a humanitarian crisis, this will put the Belarusian regime under considerable stress.

This crisis does risk a new ‘Chernobyl moment’ for the authorities, but the population could react more vocally this time. As volunteers self-organise to fight the epidemic, it might become more difficult for the authorities to say that it is efficient in running the country. But the bottom line is Belarus desperately needs money. Whoever steps up to support Belarus financially will also be able to heavily influence its politics.

Ukrainians are accustomed to crisis. As COVID-19 spread, forest fires were raging in the Chernobyl exclusion zone, turning Kyiv into the most polluted city in the world. The fighting in Donbas continued, claiming the lives of more Ukrainian soldiers, bringing the total to more than 4,000 — and, on top of that, President Zelenskyy overhauled his government. So Ukraine is fighting three battles at the same time — war with Russia, the struggle against its own ineffective system, and now COVID-19.

Every crisis is a reality check — the coronavirus provoked and exposed the strategic vulnerabilities and deep-rooted features of Ukraine’s system of governance. Three trends have come to the fore. First, the inefficiency and paralysis of many state agencies, particularly the lack of coordination between them and the prevalence of vested interests. Second, the reliance of the country’s leaders on large financial-industrial groups (FIGs) to compensate for weak institutional capacity. Third, a strong societal and private sector mobilization to fill the gaps in the dilapidated public health system.

State agencies are rigid and ineffective. Despite the modern Prozorro digital public procurement system, and the government’s allocation of $2.5 million from the early days of the epidemic, the Ministry of Health blocked COVID-related purchases for over a month. This was a tactic by — now ex-minister — Yemets to pressure the state medical procurement agency into appointing a protégé of his as one of its deputy heads.

Lowest testing rate in Europe

Similarly, in some regions, notably Odesa, procurement stalled and orders went to politically connected businesses at higher-than-market prices. Lack of tests and laboratory equipment means Ukraine has administered only 72,000 tests within a population of 42 million to date — the lowest rate in Europe.

Doctors were given orders to ensure they only test patients in hospitals with COVID-19 symptoms and only those arriving from Asia, while ignoring the fact that millions of Ukrainian labour migrants were in Europe. Indeed, the first confirmed case was imported from Italy.

Ukrainian government and public health officials lack information to take informed decisions. There is no accurate electronic database of registered deaths and reporting is lagging behind events. Information on testing availability in the regions is missing.

Thirteen days after the first case of the virus was recorded, Zelenskyy exhorted business tycoons to come to the rescue. Taking a populist tone, Zelenskyy said ‘Ukraine has been feeding you for a long time and it is time that you helped the country’. The tycoons divided the regions among themselves to deliver relief efforts according to the location of their enterprises.

It is believed FIGs have donated around $25 million to procure testing kits, ventilators, personal protective equipment (PPE) and disinfectants. This may sound impressive, but many of those same tycoons actually owe millions to the state, some even billions, and cause serious problems by perpetuating the current rent-seeking system, where public resources benefit those groups resulting in serious social losses.

Reliance on these groups makes Zelenskyy a hostage to their favour in any potential reform efforts. It is a dangerous solution, as these tycoons often obstruct Ukraine’s economic development.

An alternative — and more transformative — trend of public-private partnerships is emerging in some regions. Across Ukraine, hundreds of small- and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) have led efforts to deliver PPE, support the vulnerable with food supplies, and to procure ventilators for key hospitals.

They have mobilised hundreds of volunteers to deliver assistance and partnered with local non-profits. Fundraising initiatives have begun in Lviv, Odesa, Kyiv and Poltava with donations and expenditure has been posted online for transparency. Companies have repurposed to produce PPE kits and medical equipment. The efforts unfolded quickly and, in some cases, in smooth collaboration with municipal and regional authorities.

Ukraine cannot afford to ‘waste’ this crisis, which could help accelerate healthcare reform, decentralization, modernize governance, and boost citizen empowerment. But for this to happen, the country has to deploy a ‘smart response’.

Such ‘smart response’ means applying a resilience framework that nurtures the agility of the system of governance, ensures a diversity of actors in decision-making, supporting both self-regulation and better coordination. Rather than reaching out to tycoons, Zelenskyy should enter a coalition with true agents of change — SME leaders, volunteers, and mayors who have mobilized effective grassroots action. These actors demand a level playing field with accountable governance and effective state institutions.

Civic COVID-19 response hubs and local authorities should be joined in a network that spans the regions, and connected with the national agencies designing pandemic responses. For a national strategy to be effective, central headquarters should draw information from local communities and manage a ‘team of teams’ in a decentralised fashion.

Ensuring effective public service delivery without compromising integrity and keeping the risk of corruption low should also be a priority of political reform, with volunteers and the private sector ensuring civic oversight of both regional and national funding.

Civic engagement such as this can be transformative as it defies the Soviet legacy of paternalism and expands the belief among citizens that society can work for them. By assisting the relief effort, citizens are gaining valuable insights into quality of public services and participate in holding them to account.

Citizens are also developing a better understanding of the purpose of having effective armed forces, police, border guards and modern hospitals. They are coming to understand the value of taxpayer money and witnessing how corruption erodes institutions.

This survival mobilization — if properly harnessed by the state — could drive transformative change and make Ukraine more resilient, not just against present crises, but future ones too.