Tag Archive for: Putin

To deal with Russia, first understand what Putin wants

President Donald Trump has said he wants to end the fighting in Ukraine quickly. But it’s far from clear whether this is achievable, not least because the war in Ukraine has become a proxy for Putin’s wider confrontation with the West.

Trump’s campaign pledge that he would end the fighting within 24 hours has already been modified, with the new president and his advisers more recently discussing a period of three to six months. Trump has signalled plans for an early meeting with Vladimir Putin, while the United States’s special adviser to Ukraine is expected to visit Kyiv soon.

Putin will likely welcome a meeting with his US counterpart, not least because it will put him where he always wanted to be: talking directly to Washington, one great power to another, disposing of world affairs. This appeals to the Russian president’s concern for his, and Russia’s, appropriate standing in global affairs.

Moreover, Putin will likely fancy that he can play the incoming president, much as reports claim he did at their Helsinki summit in 2018. He will also consider himself to be in a strong position to drive a hard bargain on Ukraine.

He thinks he’s winning and that time is on his side. To some extent, he has a point.

Russia has the upper hand in what has become a brutal war of attrition. Russian forces have been making slow, costly yet inexorable progress, pushing the outmanned and outgunned Ukrainian defenders onto the backfoot. Meanwhile, relentless missile and drone attacks have taken a high toll on Ukrainian energy and civilian infrastructure.

Western countries are facing domestic political and economic pressures and distractions. Putin calculates that this, coupled with uncertainty over Trump’s approach to the US’s European allies, will lead the West to tire of supporting Kyiv and to welcome a deal.

To date, Putin has shown no real interest in a negotiated settlement—except on his own terms. These terms would effectively amount to capitulation by Kyiv and are by no means in the West’s interests.

Putin has not resiled from his core objective to bring Ukraine to heel, install a more pliable government in Kyiv, and draw Ukraine back firmly within Russia’s sphere of influence.

He won’t therefore be satisfied with just a ceasefire. Rather, he’ll want recognition of Russia’s annexed territories and a pledge of permanent Ukrainian neutrality and disarmament.

This relates to Putin’s wider objectives. As the war has continued, he has increasingly described Ukraine as a proxy for what he portrays as a wider existential conflict between Russia and the West. Resisting purported Western hostility towards Russia is now crucial in legitimising Putin’s continued rule.

Putin also wants to revise the post-Cold War security settlement in Europe and restore Russia’s global standing and influence. This was the essence of treaties that Moscow proposed in December 2021 on the eve of its invasion of Ukraine.

How the Trump administration deals with Moscow will be crucial not only for Ukraine’s future, but also for wider European and global security.

A quick, partial deal now would eventually come back to bite the US and its European allies.

If Trump wants a quick deal, he will press Ukraine to accept a ceasefire along the current lines of fighting. Kyiv may indeed have to accept a loss of territory as part of a settlement. But unless this is accompanied by robust Western (above all, US) security guarantees, such an agreement is unlikely to last, giving Russia the opportunity to rebuild its forces. Once it senses that Western attention has shifted elsewhere, Moscow will be emboldened to resume its subjugation of Ukraine.

The smarter approach for Washington would instead be to try and even up the scales by intensifying pressure on Putin to nudge him into negotiations while strengthening Ukraine’s hand ahead of any talks.

For example, Putin is keen to secure a relaxation of Western economic and technology sanctions so the Russian economy can recover and Moscow can reduce its stark dependence on China. Western states should give no such relief. Sanctions should instead be stepped up to increase pressure on the already-weakened Russian economy.

Washington should also pledge to increase military and economic support for Kyiv, signalling to Putin that he’s unlikely to achieve his aims in eastern Ukraine.

These measures would push Moscow to agree to talks to end the fighting and would strengthen Kyiv’s hand (and that of its Western backers) ahead of any such negotiations.

Early signals from the new administration are encouraging. Trump has urged Putin to agree to end the fighting in Ukraine, threatening otherwise to increase pressure substantially on Moscow, including through expanded sanctions.

Even so, securing a long-term, durable settlement in Ukraine involves more than this. It will also require Washington and its European allies to face up squarely to Moscow’s more confrontational and expansive ambitions.

The question is whether the new US administration will do this.

Will Ukraine Survive?

Russia’s war against Ukraine is about to enter its third year. There is much to feel good about, but there are also grounds for worry. In short, it is time to take stock.

What Ukraine and its Western backers have accomplished in the wake of Russia’s February 2022 invasion is extraordinary. Russia, a nuclear-armed power with three and a half times the population of Ukraine, 10 times the GDP, and a military with many times the personnel and equipment, has been fought to something close to a draw. Ukraine controls some 80% of its territory, much as it did two years ago.

Russian President Vladimir Putin obviously calculated that his war of conquest would resemble his previous invasion of Ukraine in 2014, when Russian forces swept in and quickly seized Crimea and much of the eastern Donbas region. He saw Ukraine, Europe, and the United States as weak and divided. He also believed his generals when they promised that Russia’s military was strong and would overwhelm whatever resistance Ukraine could muster.

All these assumptions have been proved wrong. But there is reason to be concerned, nonetheless.

Ukraine’s highly anticipated counter-offensive, designed to liberate territory and deliver a battlefield win or at least momentum that would set the stage for promising diplomacy, was largely rebuffed. Russia has learned to live with Western economic sanctions and has largely rerouted vital energy exports to China and India.

Western military sanctions have likewise been evaded: Russia has continued to sell weapons to India and others and buy them from North Korea and Iran. It has also been able to purchase ostensibly civilian technology and products that can be repurposed for military use. It has expanded its defence industrial base and now has a sizeable advantage over Ukraine in the quantity of artillery and ammunition that it can deliver to the battlefield.

Russia shows few signs of exhaustion. Despite the extraordinary human toll of the war, estimated to be more than 300,000 Russian troops killed or injured, Putin’s control of the media and public narrative has allowed the Kremlin to minimise dissent and persuade many Russians that their country is the victim rather than an aggressor.

Meanwhile, Ukraine is showing signs of political division. Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelensky just fired his top general. More importantly, Ukraine is struggling on the battlefield, largely owing to Republicans in the US Congress blocking a $60 billion military assistance package. Republican opposition appears to reflect a mixture of resurgent isolationism, sympathy for the authoritarianism of Putin, and a partisan desire not to hand President Joe Biden a political victory before the presidential election in November.

Ideally, Biden will be able to convince enough Republicans to work with him and fellow Democrats to approve a new tranche of assistance, which is in America’s strategic interest. But this outcome cannot be counted on, despite growing evidence that Ukraine is running short of arms and ammunition and, as a result, experiencing mounting difficulty in standing up to Russian military pressure.

This raises the question: How might Ukraine and its friends in Europe and elsewhere fill at least some of the void left by a US no longer prepared to offer significant levels of assistance?

Europe has already agreed to provide Ukraine with more than $50 billion in new economic aid; together with others (such as South Korea and possibly Japan), a coordinated plan is also needed to provide Ukraine with arms and ammunition so it can better defend itself and strike important Russian military targets. At the same time, Ukraine’s friends must help it reconstitute and expand its arms industry, so that it becomes less dependent on the ability and willingness of others to provide the resources the war effort requires.

At the same time, Ukraine can reduce its resource needs and save lives by adopting a largely defensive military strategy. Protecting and preserving the 80% of the country Ukraine now controls is feasible and essential. Ukraine would not be giving up anything by embracing such a posture, given that military liberation of Crimea, Donbas, and other Russian-occupied areas is not in the cards, at least in the short term. And it can continue to seek full territorial restitution at the negotiating table if and when serious talks commence.

If the provision of arms will determine how Ukraine fares this year, the US presidential and congressional elections in November will go a long way toward determining how it fares in 2025 and beyond. If Biden is re-elected, and if the US Senate flips to Republican control, as many expect, but the Democrats retake the House of Representatives, then the stage will be set for renewed US economic and military aid and possibly a tie between Ukraine and NATO. This would disabuse Putin of the view that time is on his side, in turn increasing the odds that diplomacy would come to the fore.

If, however, former president Donald Trump wins and the Republicans maintain control of the House of Representatives, Ukraine will face a far more difficult future. The burden of Ukraine’s security would fall even more on itself and its friends in Europe and Asia. If they prove willing and able to fill much of the gap left by a withdrawal of US support, one could envision a prolonged stalemate on the battlefield followed by constructive diplomacy. If not, Putin would be likely to press his advantage on the battlefield and come to the negotiating table only to impose the outcome he has sought from the beginning.

The difference between these two futures is stark. The stakes for Ukraine, for Europe, and for the world are enormous. Chinese President Xi Jinping, with his own designs on Taiwan, is watching with keen interest how this plays out. So, too, is Iran. If the US proves unwilling to meet its obligations and uphold the rule of international law that territory may not be acquired by force, we are looking at a future far more violent and dangerous than the past.

Wrangling China to influence Russia in Ukraine is a fool’s errand

Pressing Chinese President Xi Jinping to ‘bring Russia to its senses’ in the forlorn hope of ending the war in Ukraine is all the rage among European statesmen. Over the past two months, French President Emmanuel Macron, German Foreign Minister Annalena Baerbock and Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez have all visited China. The three urged Xi and his inner circle to call Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, bring everyone to the negotiating table and persuade Putin to end the war. Or, at least, establish a ‘lasting peace.’

In post-summit statements, Xi paid lip service to ‘peace talks’ and the reprehensibility of nuclear war, but European desires that he coax Putin into ending the war will keep falling on deaf ears.

So far, too many Western leaders have disregarded the gap between what China says and what it does. Their calls for Beijing’s intervention show that they see the Chinese Communist Party’s external beliefs and behaviours through their own liberal lens, but that is not how China conducts world affairs.

For decades, liberal leaders got China terribly wrong. Officials and academics prophesied that Western capital, economic engagement and political accommodation would liberalise China. Many clung to this misguided hope despite mounting evidence to the contrary in the early 2000s.

China’s domestic human rights violations and use of political oppression, coupled with nefarious inter-state practices like forced technology transfers, intellectual property theft, ‘brute force’ economics and disputed sovereignty seizures have proven that rapid economic development need not come alongside stronger political freedoms or democracy.

Although Europe has begrudgingly tolerated China’s competitive authoritarianism, it is now in danger of succumbing to another beguiling delusion: that Beijing can be an ‘honest broker’, an objective force for good in the world that conforms to a liberal, rules-based order.

But Beijing is not a kindred liberal spirit and efforts to coerce Xi into intervening on behalf of peace expose the naivety of Europe’s China policy.

Such efforts assume that Chinese proclamations about a ‘democratic’ world and ‘win–win cooperation’ aren’t sly slogans but actual operating principles. This relapse of foolish faith in China’s altruism ignores the logic behind Beijing’s continued decision to vocally support Vladimir Putin’s Russia despite its invasion of Ukraine.

For Xi, it pays to stand behind Putin for four reasons.

First, Russia remains a great power and founding partner of China’s anti-US coalition. Prussian statesman Otto von Bismarck allegedly remarked that in a world order of five states, one should always be in the group of three.

The same concept applies to today’s world order of three major powers—the US, Russia and China. It’s best to be the duo. Beijing and Moscow are cooperating with each other to resist an alleged ‘all-round containment, encirclement and suppression’ by the US. Sino-Russian relations are invigorated not by ties of history, language or culture, but by shared antipathy for the US and a desire to diminish its global influence.

As Xi told Putin before leaving the Kremlin in March: ‘Right now there are changes—the likes of which we haven’t seen for 100 years—and we are the ones driving these changes together.’ The Ukraine war may have hindered Russia’s global power, but Xi still has a willing and able ally in Putin. The more Xi helps Putin withstand sanctions and international criticism, the weaker Washington appears.

Second, Xi wants predictable relations with China’s neighbours and great powers so it can focus on competing with the US. Historically, Sino-Russian relations have rarely been chummy. The two major land powers together make up much of Asia and share the third largest international land border.

A reliable pariah-neighbour is better for China than an unknown quantity or political vacuum. This is why Xi and Putin have met more than 40 times in the past decade and call each other ‘dear friend’. Invasion or not, Xi will continue to support Putin to prevent political instability that could upend Eurasia.

Third, the Ukraine war itself benefits China. Because of the war, China has been able to buy Russian oil, gas and coal at cheaper prices, after European customers began shopping elsewhere. The war has also provided China with a treasure trove of lessons on how to invade—or not invade—another state. Those insights, ranging from urban warfare to information operations, could shape Beijing’s own plans for a forceful reunification with Taiwan.

And perhaps most importantly, Xi likely believes the longer the war in Ukraine goes on, the more it shifts Washington’s focus away from East Asia, exhausting its munitions depots and political will to resist another conquest.

Fourth, supporting Putin costs Xi little. During the March summit, Xi bypassed Putin’s wish list of lethal aid and a second Power of Siberia pipeline. Instead, he only gifted Putin enough moral support to prove that Russia wasn’t completely isolated and enough non-lethal aid to sustain the flagging Russian war effort. Putin has little choice but to accept these symbolic gestures.

European leaders’ delusions about China’s ability, or desire, to end the invasion are dangerous, given the concessions they offer to enlist Xi’s help. During his visit, Macron invited a massive business delegation and distanced France from the US in the pursuit of ‘strategic autonomy’—a favourite concept of Xi’s. In return, he received nothing. The rest of Europe should take notice. Xi has no compelling reason to meddle in a conflict that benefits China, especially when it means lecturing a friend with a common enemy.

Xi’s late April phone call with Zelensky was hailed as a positive development, but little has changed since, nor will it. Xi will continue playing the enlightened peacemaker while privately bolstering his dear friend’s regime. For now, there’s little he wants to change, even if he could.

The future of Navalnyism in Russian politics

A mouldering billion-dollar neo-Italianate palazzo atop a Black Sea cliff face. The Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny, recovering from a Novichok attack, duping a would-be assassin into telling him how the chemical weapon was put on his underpants. Navalny returning home with his devoted wife to certain arrest. A 700-euro toilet brush.

These images of regime decadence, corruption and decline, juxtaposed with a physically fragile, crazy-brave Navalny confronting those aiming to eliminate him, have sparked the most widespread protests in Russia since the wild interregnum of the 1990s. Navalny has introduced unpredictability to a regime that has skilfully suffocated the idea of participatory politics.

Navalny has begun serving his multi-year prison sentence and his movement has suspended protests until Duma elections in September, so how worried should Vladimir Putin be?

The president’s public response, his customary knowing smirk and shrug, signalled a sublime indifference, but the regime responded with unusual force, indicating alarm and surprise in the Kremlin. There have been record arrests, around 7,000 or 8,000 so far, using the National Guard and a facial-recognition network introduced in 2016–17.

This has been accompanied by a domestic disinformation campaign accusing Navalny of being a foreign agent.

Putin’s worry will extend past the domestic impact to how the appearance of internal instability plays to the authoritarian belt where Russia is shoring up its  influence, from its near abroad through to Eastern Europe and Turkey and the Middle East. It undercuts the perception of Putin as an avatar of nativist authoritarianism, especially in the context of ongoing defiance in Belarus and Ukraine.

Swiftly and brutally quelling the protests seems to have avoided a messy Belarus-type scenario. Navalny’s forces have signalled a tactical retreat and the regime has some time to plan its next moves. These are likely to involve rounding up Navalny’s network across Russia before the elections, detaining some and deterring others, while refining disinformation against Navalny and other opposition members.

A law passed last year empowers the government to disqualifying opposition candidates on the pretext of protecting elections from foreign interference. Another allows the government to block major social media platforms such as YouTube, which carried Navalny’s Putin’s palace documentary—seen by 1 in 4 Russians, according to this Levada poll.

But there’s a moment in any regime where the zeitgeist is lost, the power mystique thins and political entropy sets in. In an autocracy, this moment can be deferred for a long time, but not completely avoided. So, is this such a moment for Putin?

Navalny has targeted what political scientists Sam Green and Graeme Robertson say is the social contract Putin forged with the Russian public in the heat of the Crimea annexation in 2014 to base his support ‘not on the fortunes of the economy or the successes of … policy, but rather on emotions, on pride, on a rekindled sense of Russian identity’. This is an echo of the Soviet sentiment which, according to former Soviet-era Moscow correspondent David Satter, held that ‘the lines [for food] are long … but at least they’re scared of us’.

Just as important for the regime is the constant reinforcement of the idea that change is dangerous, which has blunted international responses to malign Russian activities abroad and human rights abuses within the country. Putin might be bad, but he keeps the worst chaos in check.

Navalny cleverly punctured both these myths. His documentary revelations of Putin’s corruption and assassination efforts have made the president appear silly rather than sinister. As Masha Gessen says, the palace revelations showcase a delusional autocrat spending a billion dollars of stolen money on a monument of extraordinary bad taste (complete with an aqua disco) that he can never visit for long and never admit that he owns. Navalny’s description of Putin as the ‘poisoner of the underpants’ in his courtroom speech is equally memorable and defining.

His laser focus on revelations of regime corruption highlights a stagnating economy, making declining living standards rather than nationalism an issue again.

Then there’s his freshness, his relative youth, bravery and satiric dark humour, contrasted with the flagging personal mythology of a 68-year-old Putin, and the hubris of cronies who describe themselves as ‘the new nobility’.

A hallmark of Putin’s early rule was stage-managing the appearance of opposition, even funding dissenting groups, then leaking that support so people never knew which groups were real.

But Navalny’s clear independence from elites, and the novelty of his truth-telling, blast through the regime’s nothing-is-true/nothing-matters nihilism. Navalny’s politics is invigorating and bracing, and the Kremlin has come up with nothing to counter it on the narrative front, at least so far. Tired and increasingly odd propaganda like this won’t help.

And while Navalny’s story-telling talent is formidable, he’s also a highly strategic player with oppositional skills refined over a decade of activism. His election strategy of ‘smart voting’ confronts the regime’s fraudulent nature and reaches out to the forgotten people of the vast eastern provinces. His investigative journalism partnerships with Bellingcat and others have drawn attention to Putin’s weak spots domestically and internationally.

Last week’s directive from Navalny and his supporters to suspend demonstrations indicates they’re playing the long game. And that, says Russia watcher Kyle Wilson, is the revolutionary dismantling Putin’s regime from below, making no accommodation with current elites.

The Nalvany forces will keep the momentum going to September’s elections through further revelations and by publicising repression of protestors and opposition organisers.

With each revelation, they’ll call on Western powers and publics to maintain outrage and to target Putin’s cronies where it hurts—their ability to launder and enjoy their wealth abroad.

And Navalny himself is no less an opposition figure in jail. Recent events have heightened his profile and brought him a big audience in Russia and around the world. Keeping that audience will be key.

But making the transition from irritant to real threat will also require a change of focus. Edward Lucas, a former Russian foreign correspondent, argues that to overthrow the regime, the opposition will need to split the security forces. To do that, Navalny will need inside allies, which he has refrained from cultivating.

Satter argues that the focus on corruption limits the movement. ‘Russia’, he says, ‘does not so much have a corruption problem … what it really has is a murder problem.’

Navalny’s poisoning and arrest have given ordinary Russians a chance to register their frustration with the stagnant economy and the regime’s blatant corruption. But until the Russian people become outraged by the government’s use of murder to maintain power, it’s uncertain whether they will repudiate the regime as a whole or accept some measure of economic reform and a return to stability instead.

Putin can potentially deal with corruption and economic issues. Mark Galeotti suggests that he could reinvigorate his great national infrastructure modernisation projects, purge some second-tier and regional oligarchs for corruption, and undertake limited reform of the courts and property rights to safeguard entrepreneurs from oligarchic predators. He could even increase welfare for Russia’s poor, and address the economy’s overdependence on oil and gas revenue.

That could provide him with the narrative momentum he desperately needs to give Russians a vision of a future that’s better than more of the same.

Admittedly, it’s difficult to see how these steps would be funded from a declining public purse. Demand for fossil fuels has reduced dramatically during the Covid-19 pandemic and is likely to be depressed further by the transition to renewable energy. But the appearance of a reform agenda could arrest Putin’s gradual decline in public approval.

The only other options are to follow China’s model—more repression on the streets, more investment in sophisticated surveillance technology and tighter controls over the information sphere—or to find a second Crimea to power up another nationalist high. There are some indications that the Kremlin is exploring the latter option, but Russian political analyst Leonid Radzikovsky asserts there’s no public appetite or extra funds for more foreign policy adventurism.

And more repression is unlikely to stop public resentment and boredom from festering, away from official view, waiting for the revolutionary moment.

Incremental political reform is probably out of the question because Putin has pretty thoroughly dismantled all democratic institutions which could connect street protests to political change. That potentially raises the stakes for the regime.

This is not to say that Putin is in any immediate trouble. The regime’s system controls mean it has every chance of remaining in place for at least the next decade. But whatever course Putin chooses, the politics of Navalny will survive through either co-option or opposition, as part of the arc of entropy that afflicts change-resistant autocracies.

And despite the storyline of a resurgent Russia as a global player to be feared, the good times for Putin and his cronies have probably passed their peak. They’ll have to work harder and spend more to retain their grip on power. With no clear post-Putin succession plan, maintaining unity among an ageing elite and their progeny may also become more difficult to manage. For those at the top in Russia, the prospects of enjoying luxurious and safe retirements in a palace by the sea could begin to seem increasingly remote.

Turkey and Russia must focus on common ground to avoid war in Syria

The death of 33 Turkish soldiers in an airstrike in Syria’s northwestern Idlib province on 27 February brought the number of Turkish fatalities in Syria to around 50 for the month. It appears likely that the airstrike was carried out by Russian jets, and the event confirms that the 2019 Sochi ceasefire agreement has failed and that Moscow and Ankara are increasingly on a collision course in Syria.

But the relationship between Ankara and Moscow is complex. The two countries are arguably as much bound by the common world views of Russian President Vladimir Putin and Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan as they are divided by their strategic competition in the Middle East. Consequently, it’s difficult to predict how the crisis in Idlib will unfold.

In many respects, Erdogan and Putin make natural allies. Each is seeking to forge a global role for his country by taking advantage of a perceived decline in Washington’s global power and authority. They are both autocratic in their political leanings and have carefully cultivated cults around their political personas that reflect their credentials as strongmen.

Erdogan and Putin are pragmatic and political realists who can recognise and exploit opportunities to advance their objectives across the Middle East. They also share a broad antipathy towards the West. The most symbolic element of Putin and Erdogan’s relationship is Ankara’s decision to purchase Russian-made S-400 air defence systems, which effectively sacrificed its relationship with Washington and its NATO allies in favour of closer alignment with Moscow.

But the Russian–Turkish confrontation in Syria been assessed as confirming the limits of cooperation between Moscow and Ankara, with their respective geopolitical aspirations viewed as incompatible and the reason why the alliance is destined for failure.

Ankara still seeks the overthrow of the regime of President Bashar al-Assad in Damascus and has committed heavily to supporting the last rebel strongholds in northern Syria as part of a strategy that also aims to secure Turkey’s border against Syrian refugees and combat Kurdish militia groups in the region. While estimates of the number of troops that Turkey has deployed to northern Syria vary, a recent report indicates that it has committed around 15,000 soldiers. And the cost of Ankara’s intervention is increasing.

In contrast, Moscow has deployed significant military resources to Syria over the course of the civil war to prop up the Assad regime. More than 63,000 Russian troops rotated through Syria between 2015 and 2018, and Moscow has confirmed that 116 Russian soldiers died during the conflict. Another 100 Russian Wagner Group private military contractors were killed in Syria.

The problem for both Erdogan and Putin is that they have both invested heavily in pursuing contrary outcomes in the Syrian civil war and neither can afford to be seen to blink. Erdogan has committed much to demonstrate that Ankara can enforce its will across the Middle East, and a failure in Idlib would be a blow to his ego and personal prestige, at home and abroad. Likewise, Putin has made Syria central to his plan for Moscow to supplant Washington as the key mediator in Middle East conflicts. A failure to help Assad reassert Damascus’s control over Idlib would seriously undermine Russia’s credibility in the region.

Prior to 27 February, Erdogan had appeared willing to de-escalate tensions in Idlib by accepting a proposal from Germany and France for talks with Russia on Idlib in Istanbul on 5 March. But he seems to have taken a firmer line following last week’s events. He reportedly told Putin during a phone call that Russia should stay out of Ankara’s fight with the Assad regime. Ankara also launched Operation Spring Shield targeting Syrian government forces operating in Idlib.

But Erdogan knows that Ankara is powerless to counter Russian air supremacy in the region. The S-400 air defence system isn’t scheduled to become operational until April. Erdogan’s desperation was apparent in his early February request to Washington for two batteries of Patriot air defence missile systems. Erdogan’s overture to Washington is important—it must have been galling for him personally, given that Ankara’s rejection of the Patriot system in favour of Russia’s S-400 caused the current rupture in its relationship with Washington, but it also showed the lengths he may be prepared to go to regain the upper hand in Idlib.

Ankara is also slowly learning that it is increasingly friendless as a result of its military inventions in Syria and Libya. Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Bahrain and Egypt have all condemned Turkey’s military adventurism in Syria as a violation of the country’s sovereignty, despite several of these states also materially supporting rebel Syrian groups during the civil war. And following its threats to open Turkey’s European borders to Syrian refugees, Ankara may also learn that there are few sympathetic voices in Europe.

Putin will understand this going into discussions with Erdogan on 5 March. The significance of Ankara’s recent overtures to Washington will not be lost on Moscow. Putin also clearly understands that Moscow retains the balance of power in its relationship with Ankara, and has more levers that it can deploy should it not get its way in Syria. It is also significant that the original plan brokered by the Germans and the French for a ‘four powers’ conference on Idlib in Istanbul appears to have been replaced by a meeting between Putin and Erdogan in Moscow, with the new location symbolic of the balance of power between the two.

The key to the current crisis will be whether Moscow and Ankara can reconcile the competing strategic priorities that define their relationship and find common ground on the question of Idlib. The risk for Erdogan is that Putin has already proven adept at using ‘coercive diplomacy’ to bend Erdogan to his will and that he will continue to do so by forcing Erdogan to accept a compromise in Idlib that favours Russia. But, given recent events, even a compromise agreement on Idlib is better than no agreement, and it may provide both Erdogan and Putin with an opportunity to weigh up the importance of their objectives in Syria against the value of their broader relationship.