By Ebru Akgün

Armenia is currently navigating its most significant geopolitical shift since its independence in 1991. The collapse of the traditional security architecture, which was built on the pillar of the Russian-led Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO), has forced Yerevan to embark on a perilous journey of "sovereign recalibration." By embracing Western civilian security instruments—most notably the European Union Monitoring Mission in Armenia (EUMA)—while simultaneously hosting legacy Russian military infrastructure, Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan’s administration has adopted a high-stakes "dual-track" strategy. However, this hedging mechanism is reaching its structural exhaustion. As regional geopolitics shift toward binary alignments and the South Caucasus becomes a primary theater for broader EU-Russia competition, Armenia's tactical flexibility is increasingly challenged by the reality of asymmetric pressures.

BACKGROUND:

​The central challenge for Armenia’s transition is the "security guarantee deficit." While Yerevan has successfully frozen its participation in the CSTO, citing the alliance’s failure to respond to incursions into Armenian sovereign territory in 2021 and 2022, it has not yet secured a formal military alternative. The Western response, though diplomatically robust, remains focused on "soft power" and monitoring rather than "hard power" defense obligations.

​The EUMA's mandate has been extended until 2028, providing a layer of "visibility-based deterrence." However, from a military perspective, a civilian mission cannot function as a permanent shield. Unlike the formal mutual defense obligations found in Article 4 of the CSTO treaty—which Armenia now views as a "failed promise"—the EU mission carries no legal mandate to intervene in the event of an armed conflict. The presence of European monitors on the border with Azerbaijan may increase the political cost of escalation, but it does not provide the physical protection necessary to stop an offensive.

​For Western policymakers, Armenia serves as a critical case study of the limits of small-state hedging under asymmetric pressure. The lack of a "hard" security partner leaves Yerevan in a state of strategic ambiguity. While France and the United States have increased their security assistance, these relationships are characterized by bilateral cooperation agreements rather than mutual defense pacts. This gap between monitoring and defense creates a period of strategic vulnerability that regional actors could exploit, especially if the diplomatic cost of military escalation is perceived as manageable by Baku or Moscow.

​A critical but often under-analyzed component of Armenia’s new security architecture is its integration into Western-backed transit networks, specifically the Trump Route for International Peace and Prosperity (TRIPP) corridor. Launched as a flagship initiative to decouple the South Caucasus from Russian and Iranian monopolies, the TRIPP implementation framework signed in early 2026 aims to integrate Armenia into a Western-secured transit network.

​The TRIPP initiative seeks to link Azerbaijan with its Nakhchivan exclave through Armenian territory (specifically the Syunik province) under Armenian sovereign and customs control. By promoting this "Crossroads of Peace" vision, the United States is attempting to create a vested economic interest in Armenia’s territorial integrity. If major Western corporations and U.S.-backed contractors become primary stakeholders in Armenia’s infrastructure, the logic follows that Washington will have a more explicit incentive to ensure the region's stability.

​However, the TRIPP corridor brings its own set of risks. While it offers an economic lifeline and a potential implicit security shield, it places Armenia at the heart of a "corridor war" between the West, Russia, and Iran. Tehran remains deeply wary of any increased Western presence in Syunik, which it views as its "red line" for northern connectivity. Meanwhile, Moscow views any corridor not controlled by its own FSB border guards as a violation of the November 2020 ceasefire arrangements. Therefore, the TRIPP corridor is as much a security challenge as it is an opportunity, requiring Armenia to balance American ambitions against the immediate geographical realities of its neighbors.

​Armenia’s military modernization efforts represent another pillar of its diversification strategy. Recent contracts for French GM200 radar systems and Mistral anti-air missiles, alongside the procurement of Indian Akash-1S missile systems and Pinaka rockets, mark a decisive break from the decades-long monopoly of the Russian defense industry.

​However, "buying Western" does not automatically translate into "Western security." Armenia faces an immense technical challenge known as the "interoperability trap." The nation’s current command-and-control (C2) architecture is built on Soviet-legacy systems that are historically transparent to Russian military intelligence. Integrating NATO-standard French radars or high-tech Indian artillery into this legacy environment is not just a logistical hurdle; it is a profound security risk.

​Without an entirely independent and secure C2 network—a project that would require billions of dollars and years of specialized training—Armenia’s new hardware remains vulnerable to electronic jamming or data interception by legacy Russian systems. Furthermore, the logistical chain for these Western systems is fragile. Unlike Russian equipment, which is supported by established rail links, Western hardware must be transported through Georgia’s ports or via complex Iranian routes, making the supply chain vulnerable to external political pressures. This technical sovereignty is the missing link in Armenia's military transition.

​The strategic direction of Armenia will face its ultimate domestic test in the upcoming June 7, 2026 parliamentary elections. These polls will function as a definitive referendum on the "Western pivot" and the "Fourth Republic" vision proposed by the Pashinyan administration. Public opinion in Armenia is currently characterized by "ambiguity fatigue." While trust in Western institutions has surged, a significant portion of the population remains skeptical that monitoring missions and "economic corridors" like TRIPP can replace the hard security guarantees once expected from Russia.

​The 2026 elections will be fought on two fronts: economic prosperity and national survival. If the government cannot demonstrate that its pivot has brought tangible security improvements or significant economic relief through projects like TRIPP before the elections, the opposition—likely backed by Russian narratives of "restoring traditional ties for safety"—may gain significant traction. The outcome of the 2026 polls will determine whether Armenia continues its pursuit of sovereignty through Western integration or is forced into a strategic reversal. The memory of the 2020 and 2023 conflicts looms large, and the electorate's patience for "strategic patience" is wearing thin.

IMPLICATIONS:

​Despite the rhetoric of "de-coupling," the physical and economic reality of Russian influence in Armenia remains a formidable obstacle. Russia still owns a majority of Armenia’s natural gas infrastructure through Gazprom Armenia and plays a critical role in the operation of the Metsamor nuclear power plant. To counter this, the European Union has pledged $500 million to enhance Armenia’s energy security and diversification, but the transition will take years.

​This economic asymmetry gives Moscow a "soft-kill" capability. The Kremlin does not need to launch a military intervention to destabilize Armenia; it can achieve similar results through "technical" border closures at the Lars crossing, energy price hikes, or logistical sabotage. The withdrawal of Russian FSB border guards from Zvartnots Airport was a symbolic victory, but Russian units still maintain a presence along the borders with Turkey and Iran. Any move that Moscow perceives as an "over-pivot" could trigger a devastating economic retaliation that the Armenian state is currently ill-equipped to handle.

​In this complex chess game, the role of Iran cannot be ignored. Tehran views the Syunik province as its essential gateway to the north. Any implementation of corridors—whether TRIPP or the Russian-backed Zangezur version—that changes the border status or introduces NATO-linked security actors is considered a "red line" by Iran. Armenia must navigate its pivot toward the West without alienating its southern neighbor, which remains its only other physical gateway to the world. This necessitates a delicate balance: engaging with the U.S. on TRIPP while reassuring Tehran that Armenia’s sovereign control over the route remains absolute and non-negotiable.

CONCLUSIONS:

Armenia is currently in a race against time. The dual-track strategy has provided essential short-term breathing room, allowing the state to begin the slow process of military modernization and diplomatic diversification. However, as the 2026 elections approach and the regional environment becomes more binary, the luxury of ambiguity is disappearing.

​For Armenia to survive as a sovereign actor, it must bridge the gap between "monitoring" and "defense." This requires moving beyond symbolic gestures toward a robust institutional framework that accounts for the state’s structural vulnerabilities. The TRIPP corridor and Western arms contracts are steps in the right direction, but they are not panaceas. Ultimately, Armenia’s ability to sustain its independence will depend on whether its Western partners are willing to provide actionable security pathways that go beyond binoculars and political statements. In a region where hard power still dictates the terms of sovereignty, Armenia’s "dual-track" must eventually find a single, solid, and defensible destination.

AUTHOR’S BIO: 

Ebru Akgün is an independent researcher specializing in the South Caucasus, regional security architecture, and transportation corridors. Her work focuses on the intersection of infrastructure development, military modernization, and geopolitical risk analysis in Eurasia. She actively monitors the evolving dynamics between Armenia, its neighbors, and global power enters. You can follow her latest research and professional updates via http://linkedin.com/in/ebruakgun

By Davit Gasparyan

Escalating tensions between the Armenian government and senior figures within the Armenian Apostolic Church are more than a domestic institutional dispute. The ongoing confrontation demonstrates Armenia’s broader geopolitical recalibration and growing concerns within Yerevan that Russian influence continues to operate through religious and cultural networks. While the Armenian Apostolic Church remains one of the country’s most trusted and historically significant institutions, the political behavior of certain ecclesiastical elites has intensified debates over sovereignty, national security, and foreign interference. The dispute is an example of how religious institutions across Russia’s neighboring countries can become entangled in geopolitical competition, particularly amid Armenia’s evolving foreign policy orientation and Russia’s continued reliance on soft power mechanisms.

BACKGROUND:

Relations between the Armenian government and the Armenian Apostolic Church have deteriorated significantly in recent years and particularly recent months, with public disagreements increasingly centered on Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan’s allegations of corruption, political interference, and questions surrounding the Church’s institutional accountability. While these tensions have often been portrayed as domestic disputes over governance and reform, Armenian political leadership has also framed the issue in broader geopolitical terms.

Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan has explicitly linked his government’s concerns regarding church leadership to national security considerations. During a parliamentary question-and-answer session, Pashinyan stated that he “does not need a Catholicos who will obey him,” but rather one who “will not obey a senior lieutenant of a foreign special service” or report to foreign intelligence actors. Such remarks suggest that the Armenian government views elements within church leadership as potential conduits for external political influence rather than solely domestic institutional actors.

The Armenian Apostolic Church occupies a uniquely influential position in Armenian society. For centuries, it has served as a pillar of national identity, preserving Armenian cultural, linguistic, and spiritual continuity through periods of foreign domination, including Ottoman and Soviet rule. Public trust in the Church remains consistently high, making it one of the country’s most respected institutions according to the Caucasus Barometer, outperforming political parties and figures. This legitimacy, however, also renders the Church a powerful societal actor vulnerable to political instrumentalization.

Historically, segments of the Church’s senior leadership have maintained close institutional and symbolic ties with the Russian Orthodox Church and the Russian state. These connections reflect broader historical patterns in which former Armenian political elites aligned closely with Moscow during Armenia’s post-Soviet transition and subsequent security dependence on Russia. Such relationships have periodically reinforced Russia’s ideological narratives across the region.

These ties became particularly visible following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. That year, Catholicos of All Armenians Garegin II received a Russian state honor from President Vladimir Putin, clearly signaling the continuing closeness between Armenian and Russian religious leadership. More controversially, Archbishop Ezras (Nersisyan), head of the Russian Diocese of the Armenian Apostolic Church and brother of Garegin II, publicly blessed the Arbat Battalion in 2023, a military unit that includes ethnic Armenians associated with Russia’s war effort in Ukraine. The act carried strong symbolic significance, depicting how certain church elites have engaged in activities aligning with and supporting Russia’s wartime mobilization narratives against Ukraine. Pashinyan later alleged in 2025 that Archbishop Ezras was recruited by the KGB.

Russian religious and political actors have also reacted sharply to Armenian government criticism of church leadership. Representatives of the Russian Orthodox Church have condemned perceived state interference in ecclesiastical affairs, portraying Armenian government actions as part of broader efforts to undermine traditional spiritual institutions. Russian political commentators and politicians, including Sergei Lavrov, have similarly framed Armenian reform efforts as destabilizing and influenced by Western political agendas.

The dispute has extended beyond Armenia’s borders into Russian streets. Russian authorities have permitted Armenian diaspora communities to mobilize publicly around disputes between the Armenian government and church leadership and to publicly criticize Pashinyan’s actions. These developments show how the Russian regime has allowed and implicitly endorsed such attacks on Pashinyan as such demonstrations would require extensive scrutiny and approval by Russian authorities.

IMPLICATIONS:

The confrontation between the Armenian government and segments of church leadership reflects a broader geopolitical struggle over Russia’s influence within Armenian society. Religious institutions have historically served as important channels of Russian soft power across the post-Soviet region, enabling Moscow to shape political narratives, reinforce cultural alignment, and maintain influence even where formal political leverage declines.

Russia’s use of religious networks as instruments of influence has been particularly evident in Ukraine. Following Russia’s annexation of Crimea in 2014 and the subsequent full-scale invasion in 2022, tensions between Ukrainian authorities and Moscow-affiliated religious structures intensified. Kyiv’s eventual support for the establishment of an independent Orthodox Church reflected concerns that religious institutions could function as vehicles for Russian political influence and intelligence activity. Similar dynamics have been observed in Moldova, where Moscow-aligned religious organizations have maintained strong societal influence and occasionally reinforced pro-Russian political narratives. In Georgia, Russian-linked religious messaging has also been used to amplify conservative social discourse and skepticism toward Western integration.

Armenia’s current church-state tensions appear to follow comparable patterns. Pashinyan’s government has increasingly pursued foreign policy diversification, strengthening relations with the EU, the U.S., and regional partners while reducing reliance on Russian security and economic guarantees. These shifts have heightened the Armenian leadership’s sensitivity to domestic institutions perceived as linked to Moscow’s influence infrastructure.

Pashinyan has suggested that segments of church leadership have been used in forms of “hybrid warfare” targeting Armenian sovereignty. While such claims remain politically and legally contested and strongly rejected by church representatives, they highlight the degree to which religious institutions have become intertwined with national security discourse in Armenia. The framing reflects broader concerns within Armenian political circles that Russian influence persists through societal and cultural networks even as formal bilateral relations undergo strain.

The dispute also carries significant domestic political implications. Armenia’s 2026 parliamentary elections are expected to take place amid heightened geopolitical competition. Russia has historically demonstrated interest in influencing Armenian electoral processes and public discourse and there are reports that it already has commenced influence operations. Given the Armenian Apostolic Church’s deep societal legitimacy, internal church disputes could become politically mobilized, shaping electoral narratives and public perceptions of government legitimacy.

At the same time, aggressive state action against church leadership risks generating backlash among segments of Armenian society that view the Church as inseparable from national identity. Balancing institutional reform with respect for religious tradition will remain a very delicate political challenge for Armenian authorities. Certain Western human rights and religious organizations have already criticized the Pashinyan regime for its targeted crackdown on Armenian church members.

More broadly, Armenia’s experience demonstrates how religious institutions across Eurasia continue to operate at the intersection of identity, politics, and geopolitical competition. As Russia’s conventional political leverage in parts of the post-Soviet space declines, Moscow has increasingly relied on cultural and religious networks to preserve influence. Armenia’s internal church-state confrontation demonstrates how such networks can become focal points of broader geopolitical realignment.

CONCLUSIONS:

The escalating conflict between the Armenian government and senior figures within the Armenian Apostolic Church should be understood as both a domestic institutional dispute and a manifestation of broader geopolitical transformation. While the Church remains a foundational pillar of Armenian identity and social cohesion, the political, pro-Russian alignment of certain ecclesiastical elites has contributed to growing concerns regarding foreign influence.

Pashinyan’s confrontation with church leadership reflects Armenia’s efforts to redefine its geopolitical orientation and reduce Russian soft power penetration within Armenian society. The outcome of this struggle will likely influence not only Armenia’s internal political stability but also its future strategic alignment. As Armenia navigates a changing regional security environment on the eve of its 2026 Parliamentary elections, the interaction between religious authority, national identity, and external geopolitical competition will remain a critical factor shaping the country’s trajectory.

AUTHOR’S BIO: 

Davit Gasparyan researches security dynamics in the South Caucasus and Russia’s regional strategy. He conducts research with the Institute for Security and Analysis and previously served as a Russia researcher at the Institute for the Study of War, and has worked with the Carnegie Endowment and Caucasus Watch.

By Stephen Blank

While Central Asian cohesion and regional cooperation grow; the South Caucasus is fragmenting. This process increasingly affects the nature and scope of regional interactions with key international actors. Russian influence has declined precipitously in Armenia, which is turning to the West, and Azerbaijan, which is expanding its circle of partners. However, in Georgia the state increasingly resembles Russia in its autocratic and legal structure and thus its state practices.

BACKGROUND:

Writing in 2024, the Azeri scholar Gulshan Pashayeva observed that a defining feature of the Caucasus was its fragmentation. This fragmentation is deepening and in effect, relationships between the South Caucasus and key external actors have quickly grown and assumed new shapes in 2025. Georgia’s dependence on Russia has grown, whereas Russian influence in Armenia and Azerbaijan has visibly declined as these states are turning to Washington and Europe. 

Georgia is paying the supreme price of colonial status as it over time loses territory to Russia as both South Ossetia and Abkhazia virtually included in the Russian Federation. The Russian-driven borderization whereby Russian or pro-Russian forces either overtly or surreptitiously move border posts demarcating Russian-controlled from Georgian territories to expand Russia’s holdings occurs with impunity.

The mounting discord between the Georgian government and the EU also exemplifies Georgia’s regression. Georgia’s government, possibly at Moscow’s behest, is trampling upon processes necessary for Georgian admission into the EU and frustrating both Brussels’ conditions and the continuing support for EU membership among a majority of the Georgian population. 

Armenia’s government is implementing a program of democratic reform and ultimate membership in the EU while striving to make a conclusive peace with Azerbaijan and normalize ties to Turkey despite staunch resistance by domestic, diasporic elements, the Church and Russian influencers. None of these groups supports peace and many of them, including Russia, fear democratization as signaling a decisive political defeat at home as well as a threat to Russia. It is no surprise that the Church with Russian backing emerged as the leader of an attempted coup in 2025 to replicate Russia’s success in Georgia and reverse Yerevan’s turn to the West.

Azerbaijan’s case is even more striking. Beyond its military-diplomatic success in forging an alliance with Turkey and partnership with Israel to strengthen its military capability, it neutralized Russian support for Armenia while improving ties with key European states and the U.S. The Trump Administration has now built a permanent monument to its military-economic presence in the Caucasus, namely the Trump International Road for Peace and Prosperity (TRIPP). This project brings Washington into the Caucasus as a permanent player and checks Iranian threats to Azerbaijan and links to Armenia, while giving Yerevan a tangible reward for its pro-Western and anti-Russian policies. Meanwhile, Russia’s downing of an Azerbaijani airplane in 2024 and attacks on Azerbaijani residents in Russia have generated enormous resentment in Azerbaijan. 

IMPLICATIONS:

The Caucasus has become a battleground where the great powers and their favored local governments are not only on opposite sides, but where these powers’ rivalry also spills over into trade routes. The TRIPP has duly triggered Georgian apprehension since that project’s inauguration may well push aside Georgia as a preferred partner in the Middle Corridor project that ties together China, Central Asia, and ultimately Europe. But the significance of TRIPP far transcends its potential impact upon Georgia.

This project is only the latest manifestation of the declining Russian influence in the Caucasus and the parallel ensuing fragmentation of the region. While Moscow still holds many levers of influence and has no scruples about using them; they are fewer, less potent than before, and Russia faces a greater and more sustained foreign presence in the Caucasus than at any time since the disintegration of the USSR. Neither is this foreign influence strictly economic as in China’s case and as seen in its sponsorship of the Middle Corridor trade and transportation route through Azerbaijan that bypasses Russia. Türkiye’s alliance with Azerbaijan is of an explicitly military nature that provides an enduring supply of weapons, training, and presumably logistical and intelligence support for Azerbaijan. Türkiye also buttresses this support by providing the primary terminus for Azerbaijan’s increasing energy exports to Europe. Beyond these increasingly deep-rooted connections to Azerbaijan, through the Organization of Turkic States Türkiye now also has an institutional base for enduring outreach to Central Asia and the provision of all manner of military and economic ties to that region. 

Azerbaijan is also increasingly tied to the Middle East through its long-running defense and economic ties to Israel, their mutual collaboration against Iran and its membership in both the Abraham Accords and President Trump’s Board of Peace. Likewise, the EU and Azerbaijan have embarked upon a mutually rewarding series of ties independent of Russian influence and also primarily based on Azerbaijani energy exports in return for EU investment and political support.

Moreover, the advent of the TRIPP has launched what looks like a sustained U.S. presence in the Caucasus. This project is taking physical shape and Vice-President Vance’s visit to Armenia and Azerbaijan demonstrates that sustained interest. Under this project, “American companies could develop railways, roads, and pipelines linking Azerbaijan proper to its Nakhchivan exclave via a corridor through the south of Armenia’s Syunik Province.” Since Azerbaijan is now providing Armenia with energy, a formal peace treaty terminating the state of war over Nagorno-Karabakh under U.S. auspices seems likely. Beyond those signs of U.S. influence, President Trump has just stated that Vance’s tour will, “strengthen our strategic partnership with Azerbaijan, a beautiful Agreement for Peaceful Nuclear Cooperation with Armenia, Deals for our Great Semiconductor Makers, and the sale of Made in the U.S.A. Defense Equipment, such as body armor and boats, and more, to Azerbaijan.” If this lasting multi-domain U.S. presence materializes, it will represent a major blow to Russian ambitions but also codify the fragmentation of the Caucasus and exclude Georgia from the growing and long-term international competition in the region for a long time to come.

CONCLUSIONS:

Russia certainly still has cards to play. It has a long-term military base at Gyumri, Armenia, and well-established connections among the Armenian opposition that is both unreconciled to the loss of Nagorno-Karabakh and to the Pashinyan government’s democratizing reforms and efforts to join the EU. Russia also has substantial economic connections to Georgia and what looks like a secure base of influence in Georgia’s government. 

Nevertheless, it is a declining power economically if not militarily and cannot stop the rising foreign presence in the Caucasus. Indeed, it depends on trade coming from Armenia and Central Assia to circumvent Western sanctions and access vital Western goods. Iran, whose back is to the wall due to combined U.S., Israeli, and European military-economic pressure, cannot bail it out. Nor will China, the primary sponsor of the Middle Corridor, rescue it in the Caucasus. Despite the Russo-Chinese “no-limits” partnership, Beijing has never lifted a finger to allow Russia to become a viable economic competitor across Eurasia or regarding inter-continental trade, transport, and connectivity issues.

Therefore, the fragmentation of the South Caucasus and the heightened presence of competing major international actors is likely to continue. Central Asian states, in contrast, forge ahead with mounting cohesion and collaboration. Indeed, those states, recognizing Azerbaijan’s critical geographic position and rising heft, have now included it in what used to be the 5+1 relationship with Washington, transforming it into a 6+1 formation. This development will also contribute to regional fragmentation. Azerbaijan is increasingly a power whose perspectives must embrace Washington, Europe, the Middle East, and Central Asia, not just the Caucasus.

The ethnopolitical rivalries that made the Caucasus a zone of conflict for a generation after 1991 may, however, be coming to an end as the new ties between Baku and Yerevan and greater foreign connections show. To the extent that Georgia can be helped to resolve its ethnic and other domestic cleavages that Russia continues to exploit, it may become possible for the South Caucasus to emulate the discernible regional cooperation now appearing in Central Asia.

That outcome would be to the benefit of the entire Caucasus as well as to its neighbors and interlocutors. While disappointing to Moscow, its regional clients and those “dead-enders” who wish to rekindle the fires of ethnic conflict, that way has been tried and founds wanting in the balance.

AUTHOR’S BIO: 

Stephen Blank is a Senior Fellow with the Foreign Policy Research Institute (www.fpri.org.)

By Sergey Sukhankin

In late 2025, during his visit to Kyrgyzstan, Russia’s President Vladimir Putin declared Russia’s readiness to build a small modular nuclear power reactor (SMR) in Kyrgyzstan, thereby signaling Moscow’s intention to move beyond traditional trade relations toward projects in long-term strategic infrastructure. Russia’s proposal may be justified by the need to address Kyrgyzstan’s persistent problem of frequent energy shortages, caused by rising consumption, aging energy infrastructure, and overreliance on hydropower as the primary source of electricity generation. At a deeper level, however, the initiative reflects Moscow’s post-2022 strategy, premised on exporting high-technology solutions to politically friendly states and anchoring influence through capital-intensive projects with multi-decade life cycles, such as SMRs. Undoubtedly, if successfully constructed, an SMR could strengthen Kyrgyzstan’s energy security. Yet, it would also exacerbate the country’s strategic dependence on Russia by locking it into long-term technological, financial, and regulatory reliance, rendering the project arguably more geopolitical in nature than economic.

BACKGROUND:

Kyrgyzstan’s energy system has long suffered from structural fragility stemming from the country’s overarching dependence on hydropower: more than 90 percent of electricity generation derives from this source, largely produced by the Toktogul cascade. Exposed to multiple risks and weaknesses, such as droughts, aging Soviet-era infrastructure, and rapidly growing domestic demand, the system has shifted from experiencing occasional electricity deficits to facing a structural crisis. In 2023, the government introduced a state of emergency in the energy sector, explicitly acknowledging the inability of existing generation capacity and demand-management tools to ensure uninterrupted supply. Experts note that persistent electricity shortages could further undermine Kyrgyzstan’s socio-economic stability and, in the longer term, generate political repercussions posing serious challenges to the country’s leadership. Nevertheless, Kyrgyzstan appears unable to address this challenge independently. Beyond economic constraints, particularly the high fixed costs associated with hydropower generation, recent water shortages have further exacerbated the problem. In this context, Kyrgyz authorities have expressed interest in developing nuclear energy projects, with external financial support, as a potential solution to the country’s long-term electricity supply challenges.

This interest emerged in parallel with Russia’s broader strategic effort to diversify its export portfolio beyond raw materials. In this context, Moscow has actively promoted the deployment of an SMR in Kyrgyzstan as part of a wider push to export high-value energy technologies. The origins of this initiative can be traced to early 2022, when Rosatom, Russia’s state-owned nuclear corporation, and the Kyrgyz Ministry of Energy signed a non-binding memorandum on cooperation in the peaceful use of nuclear energy. Beyond signaling technical cooperation, the memorandum laid the groundwork for potential SMR construction and the gradual development of a national regulatory framework, indicating a long-term and structurally embedded approach rather than a short-term energy solution. Following the outbreak of war between Russia and Ukraine in February 2022 and Russia’s exposure to an expanding array of international (Western) sanctions, the idea gained renewed momentum.

Given Kyrgyzstan’s highly specific socio-political environment, distinct from that of other Central Asian states, public opinion on nuclear energy is an issue the ruling elite cannot afford to ignore. Available evidence suggests that societal attitudes toward nuclear power remain ambivalent. According to public opinion surveys conducted in 2024, 58 percent of respondents expressed support for the development of nuclear energy, while 38 percent voiced categorical opposition. Support is largely driven by expectations that nuclear power could help meet the country’s growing electricity demand and create new employment opportunities. At the same time, significant concerns persist regarding nuclear safety, environmental risks, seismic vulnerability, and the state’s institutional capacity to regulate complex and high-risk technologies. As a result, nuclear energy remains a politically sensitive and potentially contentious issue within Kyrgyzstan’s domestic political landscape.

IMPLICATIONS:

Should the Kyrgyz political leadership respond positively to Russia’s proposal, the country would face a combination of potential benefits and risks, which can be broadly categorized as follows.

First, meeting energy needs and ensuring system stability. From an energy-security perspective, the emergence of an SMR could positively affect Kyrgyzstan’s electricity balance. Unlike hydropower, nuclear generation provides continuous baseload output independent of seasonal water availability. Russian officials have indicated that Kyrgyzstan could be offered a plant based on the RITM-200N reactor design, with total capacity ranging from approximately 110 to 440 MW, depending on configuration. This output could supply electricity to between 66,000 and 352,000 households simultaneously. Even at the lower end of this range, such capacity could reduce imports and ease pressure on hydropower assets during dry periods. That said, to fully realize these benefits, Kyrgyzstan would need to meet several conditions: the establishment of a comprehensive regulatory framework, an independent nuclear safety authority, trained operators, emergency-response systems, and long-term arrangements for fuel supply and waste management. For Kyrgyzstan, this would entail either creating much of this infrastructure from scratch or delegating these functions to Russia, a choice that would inevitably deepen institutional dependence on Russia.

Second, the issue of economic costs and long-term dependence. Although SMRs are often presented as cheaper and more flexible than conventional large nuclear plants, they remain capital-intensive projects with long payback periods. In practice, this would require Kyrgyzstan to assume long-term financial obligations while ceding significant control over critical components of its energy system to a foreign state with a documented record of using energy as a geopolitical instrument of pressure. Moreover, dependence would extend well beyond construction, encompassing fuel supply, maintenance, software, spare parts, and periodic upgrades. For Kyrgyzstan, this would narrow future strategic options and increase the cost of diversifying away from Russian technology for decades to come.

Third, implications for domestic politics. Nuclear projects frequently face public resistance even in countries with strong institutions. In Kyrgyzstan, where trust in state decision-making is limited and political competition is intense, an SMR could become a focal point for opposition mobilization, particularly in the event of an incident or if Russia were perceived as leveraging Kyrgyzstan’s dependence. Without transparent consultations, credible safety assurances, and clearly articulated local benefits, the project risks appearing as an externally imposed geopolitical arrangement rather than a sovereign national development choice.

Fourth, intra-regional geopolitical effects. The Central Asian “water–energy–food” nexus is inherently conflict-prone due to divergent seasonal priorities: upstream states, particularly Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, seek to maximize winter electricity generation, while downstream countries depend on summer water flows for irrigation. From a policy perspective, the deployment of an SMR could offer a structural advantage by providing reliable winter baseload generation, thereby reducing reliance on hydropower and creating space for more predictable and cooperative water–energy arrangements with Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan. However, this opportunity entails significant trade-offs. An SMR would deepen long-term technological and financial commitments to an external partner and could become entangled in regional and extra-regional geopolitical bargaining. If politicized, the project risks undermining trust, constraining policy flexibility, and further securitizing energy governance in Central Asia rather than contributing to its stabilization.

CONCLUSIONS:

Russia’s proposal to build an SMR in Kyrgyzstan represents a pivotal choice that extends well beyond energy policy. While the project could substantially enhance electricity security and reduce vulnerability to hydrological shocks, it would also bind Kyrgyzstan to long-term technological, financial, and regulatory dependence on Russia. In a politically pluralistic and socially sensitive environment, such dependence entails significant domestic and regional risks. Ultimately, the project’s impact will depend on whether Kyrgyz authorities can balance short-term energy gains against strategic autonomy, address public concerns transparently, and prevent the SMR from becoming an instrument of geopolitical leverage rather than a catalyst for sustainable development.

AUTHOR’S BIO: Dr. Sergey Sukhankin is a Senior Fellow at the Jamestown Foundation and the Saratoga Foundation (both Washington DC) and a Fellow at the North American and Arctic Defence and Security Network (Canada). He teaches international business at MacEwan School of Business (Edmonton, Canada). Currently he is a postdoctoral fellow at the Canadian Maritime Security Network (CMSN).

By Ambassador David Dondua

Georgia’s democratic backslide has shocked observers at home and abroad. Once a “beacon of democracy” and a frontrunner of European integration, the country has lost its standing within the European democratic family in a remarkably short time. While this shift may appear sudden, it reflects deeper vulnerabilities—lessons that matter not only for Georgia but also for other small states navigating similar geopolitical crossroads.

BACKGROUND:

The rapid erosion of Georgia’s democratic and pro-Western trajectory cannot be explained by a single decision, policy, or political figure. Rather, it is the result of a complex combination of factors. At the most general level, it reflects the success of a long-term Russian hybrid and cognitive operation against Georgian society, an operation that ultimately proved much more effective than the 2008 military invasion.

As a result of the August 2008 Russo-Georgian war, Russia occupied only 20 per cent of Georgia’s territory. In the decade that followed, however, Moscow achieved something far more consequential. Through sustained political influence, economic leverage, disinformation, and elite capture, it gradually penetrated Georgia’s state institutions. Government, parliament, the presidential administration, courts, security services, police, armed forces, and the foreign service all became vulnerable to influence. Most importantly, Russia succeeded in distracting the country from its European integration trajectory and sowing mistrust toward democratic reforms and Western aspirations. Strategically, this amounted to the cognitive occupation of the entire state.

Blaming this reversal solely on Russian hybrid attacks, the pro-Russian stance of the ruling Georgian Dream government, or the role of the de facto ruler, billionaire Bidzina Ivanishvili, would be too simple. The reality is more complex. Among the many political, social, and institutional factors that shaped Georgia’s vulnerability, one has remained largely unrecognized, rarely discussed, and almost entirely absent from public debate.

In the late 1980s, as the collapse of the Soviet Union became inevitable, Georgian society engaged in intense debates about the future of the independent state. Constitutional arrangements, models of governance, economic systems, currency, and even sporting affiliations were openly discussed. One issue, however, was never truly debated: the foreign policy orientation of independent Georgia.

On this question, there appeared to be complete consensus. Becoming part of the West was treated as self-evident—almost sacred. It was widely perceived as the fulfilment of centuries-long aspirations to align Georgia with Europe. No alternatives were discussed, not because they were examined and rejected, but because few dared to articulate them. In a diverse, multi-ethnic society that had lived under Russian rule for more than two centuries, it is unlikely that such alternatives were entirely absent. Yet for the next three decades, this unchallenged consensus shaped both Georgia’s foreign and domestic policy.

IMPLICATIONS: 

From today’s perspective, this unquestioned consensus appears to have been a missed opportunity for deeper and informed societal consolidation. This observation should not be misunderstood as questioning Georgia’s European choice. The author firmly believes that the European path was and remains the right choice for Georgia. Yet accepting this choice without deep public reasoning, open discussion, or even heated debate left society ill-prepared to fully understand and defend it.

Georgian society is often characterized by emotional radicalism, reinforced by a lack of democratic traditions. This leaves limited space for critical reflection. As a result, key aspects of EU and NATO integration were rarely discussed in a fact-based and accessible way. Public support, therefore, remained largely emotional rather than knowledge-based.

This gap became visible whenever misinformation spread. Claims that EU regulations would ban or severely restrict traditional agricultural products, force the uprooting of vineyards—widely perceived as an attack on Georgia’s cultural heritage—or exclude most of local goods from European markets due to strict quality standards repeatedly triggered public outrage. Such narratives exposed how shallow public understanding often was, despite consistently high levels of declared support for European integration.

Insufficient effort was made to explain to citizens that compromise is inherent in joining any international organisation. Government officials and even NGOs promoting the EU and NATO integration often avoided discussing trade-offs and long-term costs. Citizens were rarely told that today’s difficulties are frequently the price of tomorrow’s benefits—choices that can only be made consciously by an informed society.

Following the adoption of the Deep and Comprehensive Free Trade Area (DCFTA), the state should have launched a large-scale educational effort to demonstrate how this instrument could be applied in practice, particularly for small entrepreneurs and rural communities. While some initiatives were undertaken, largely with donor support, they were insufficient. For many citizens, European integration remained an abstract promise rather than a lived experience.

A fundamental contradiction of Georgia’s post-independence politics is that all Georgian governments over the past three and a half decades have claimed to be pro-Western and have promised the population a European democratic future, including NATO membership. Even the current ruling party, Georgian Dream, publicly declared the same until recently. Yet in practice, the actions of all those governments, without exception, have often fallen short of democratic standards, at times even sharply contradicting them. 

Against this backdrop, today, the ruling party has deliberately cast Europe as a convenient scapegoat for almost all of the country’s past and current difficulties, whether stemming from poor governance, institutional weaknesses, corruption, reform costs, or external developments beyond Georgia’s control. Georgian Dream has transformed ordinary challenges into a political weapon to erode public trust in democratic reforms and derail the country’s European path.

As noted above, in every election, including the watershed 2012 vote, virtually all political actors pledged a European future to voters; even marginal candidates openly backed or courted by the Kremlin used pro-Western rhetoric. Unlike in Ukraine, Moldova, or Armenia, where societies were exposed to competing geopolitical visions and, over time, could observe different policy orientations, compare outcomes, and distinguish between credible and non-credible strategic paths, Georgian voters were never offered a genuine choice. They were offered reassurance that the European path was uncontested and secure. This monopoly of a single geopolitical orientation meant that alternatives were neither seriously articulated nor openly debated. Paradoxically, the absence of pluralism later became a vulnerability: because the European choice was never collectively debated and consciously affirmed, it failed to generate a strong sense of public ownership.

Today, pro-Russian actors exploit this gap by asking: “Who decided that Georgia must choose Europe?” The ruling Georgian Dream has increasingly reinforced this narrative by claiming that the European course was imposed on Georgia by some phantom foreign forces. 

At the same time, fully replacing Europe with Russia remains politically tricky in the short term, given prevailing public attitudes. Instead, the government has sought to cultivate the idea of “state neutrality” as an ostensibly safer alternative to Western integration, one that promises stability while allowing Georgians to preserve their traditions, identity, and way of life without external pressure. Packaged in this way, neutrality appears as a return to normalcy and sovereignty. Such a narrative can gain traction precisely because the European path was never thoroughly debated, internalised, and embraced on the basis of knowledge.

In reality, however, neutrality functions as a transitional narrative rather than a genuine option. Given Georgia’s geography, security environment and economic dependencies, let alone historical experience, neutrality is simply not workable. In practice, abandoning Western integration is the fastest route to renewed subordination to Russia and the gradual erosion of Georgian statehood.

CONCLUSIONS: Georgia’s democratic and geopolitical setback is not the result of abandoning Europe overnight. It is the consequence of failing to cultivate deep understanding, ownership, and resilience around the European choice over three decades. Strategic orientations cannot survive on consensus alone; they require constant explanation, public debate, and civic education.

For years, Georgia proudly cited overwhelming public support for European integration. Yet emotional endorsement without understanding is fragile. A society that genuinely comprehends how Western institutions function and what integration realistically entails is far more resilient to manipulation. In retrospect, 50 or even 40 per cent of firm, knowledge-based support would have been more durable than 80 per cent of symbolic approval. This underscores that the key to Georgia’s recovery lies not in numbers alone but in cultivating genuine understanding and ownership among citizens.

This moment, however, is not irreversible. What was insufficiently addressed in the past can still be corrected. Periods of crisis often force societies to replace inherited assumptions with conscious choices. Continued engagement by Georgia’s Western partners is therefore essential—not less, but more focused on education, communication, and societal resilience.

Europe has not disappeared from Georgia’s collective identity. If reinforced through knowledge rather than slogans, it can still serve as the foundation for democratic recovery and a sustainable return to the European path.

AUTHOR’S BIO: Ambassador David Dondua is a diplomat and political analyst. He serves as Chairman of the EU Awareness Centre, a Brussels-based think tank focused on European integration, democratic resilience, and countering hybrid threats in Eastern Europe and the South Caucasus.