In September 2022, after both the invasion of Ukraine and a military takeover in Myanmar, Senior General Min Aung Hlaing met with Russian President Vladimir Putin under the umbrella of the Eastern Economic Forum (an event held in Vladivostok) to explore a roadmap for the renewal of cooperation in multiple fields. In June 2024, Putin went to Hanoi on a state visit conceived to revitalise Russo-Vietnamese bilateral ties through a dozen bilateral deals. A few days later, the Russian President signed a Comprehensive Strategic Partnership Treaty with Kim Jong-un in Pyongyang, a framework that includes a mutual defence pact. Isolated, these high-profile meetings perhaps do not mean much beyond catchy headlines and pictures of rehearsed ceremonial protocols. Yet, once the dots are connected through the analytical juxtaposition of both transversal common denominators and the changing direction of the international system’s overarching geopolitical Zeitgeist, there is a discernible pattern that entails far-reaching implications. Originally, Moscow disliked the concept of the Indo-Pacific because of its novel theoretical association with American-led clubs like the Quad or AUKUS. However, regardless of semantics and nomenclatures, Russian statecraft —motivated by impersonal forces— seeks to make substantial inroads on this critical geopolitical and geoeconomic front as a strategic imperative.
The geopolitical presence of the Russians in the Indo-Pacific —and their involvement with states like Myanmar, North Korea and Vietnam— is hardly a new phenomenon. However, said developments are remarkable in the sense that they indicate Russia’s emerging pivot to Asia, as well as Moscow’s deepening willingness to challenge Western interests not just in the perimeter of the so-called ‘near abroad’. They demonstrate that the Kremlin means business when it comes to assertively pursuing its growing interests in a region that has become the world’s top arena for strategic competition. Notably, the strategic communities of various countries share the predictive analytical assessment that the balance of power in the Indo-Pacific is far more consequential for the fate of global hegemony than other contentious flashpoints like the post-Soviet space and the Greater Middle East. Not unlike the US and China, Russia seems to be heading towards preparedness for an Asia-first policy. Together, these events also show the complexity of shifting alignments in an international system in which the structure of polarity is increasingly plural. They also reveal that despite the cohesiveness of the so-called ‘collective West’, the efforts of Washington and Brussels to isolate Russia do not have a strong resonance in Asia. Russia may be ideologically shunned by pro-Western Pacific states like Australia and New Zealand, but not in the confines of Eurasia in which the pragmatic calculations of raison d’État prevail above all else. In other words, the Kremlin’s ongoing overtures to Asian states must be interpreted in accordance with the logic of ‘high politics’, and not based on the cognitive prism of empty diplomatic niceties. The context is also significant. These rapprochements take place in a security environment shaped by the reactivation of great power rivalries as a political reality that increases the prospective likelihood of war. Therefore, it is pertinent to examine the scope of Russia’s recent efforts to forge long-range partnerships with Asian states like Myanmar, North Korea and Vietnam.
Background
Although the Russian Federation is a transcontinental Eurasian state —whose territory covers no less than eleven time zones—, the nerve centres of its political, economic and demographic heartland have always been located in Europe. As a result, the foreign policy priorities and strategic thinking of Russian statecraft have always been focused mostly on the troublesome lack of natural barriers which can protect the country’s Western flank from invaders. Therefore, in a quest to maximise strategic depth as an imperative of national security, Russia has always pushed Westward in order to gain anchors and footholds in Eastern Europe. However, not unlike the Roman god Janus, the Russian bicephalous eagle also looks East in order to face both challenges and opportunities. The Asian-ness of the Russian state is reflected in its control of the Siberian landmass (which contains vast deposits of many natural resources such as energy, minerals, fresh water and timber), the enduring legacy of the Mongol occupation, its ambivalent engagement with powerful Far Eastern Asian polities, its historical presence in the Greater Turkestan and its condition as a multiethnic imperial state that includes various Asian peoples and religious creeds.
Driven by the organic behavioural force referred to as ‘passionarity’ in the writings of Soviet historiographer Lev Gumilev, the Russians have left their fateful mark in the Asian geopolitical Grossraum. In the 19th century, Czarist Russia confronted Britain in a strategic contest over regional hegemony in Central Asia known as ‘the Great Game’. In their imperial pursuits in Asia, the Russians also suffered setbacks, like the crushing defeat they experienced in the Russo-Japanese War in the early 20th century. Later, thanks to its position as a superpower, the Soviet Union developed a geopolitical projection that transcended the perimeter of Russia’s traditional sphere of influence. Such efforts included participation in proxy wars, direct military interventions, diplomatic overtures, technical assistance and the clandestine art of intelligence tradecraft. As a result of the far-sighted work of Admiral Sergei Gorshkov, the Soviet state was aware of the strategic, military and economic importance of the Pacific Ocean’s densely transited waterways. During the Cold War —specifically in the context of the Sino-Soviet split— geopolitical tensions between Moscow and Beijing triggered border skirmishes, ideological disputes and even threats of nuclear sabre-rattling. Moreover, the Soviet invasion of Sakhalin (an island in close proximity to the Sea of Japan) towards the end of World War Two turned out to be profitable in the long run. Said island provided an additional asset in the Pacific Rim, as well as an abundant source of fossil fuels, including oil and natural gas, resources whose extraction continues today.
Today, the Russian Federation shares borders with Asian states such as Kazakhstan, Mongolia, China and even North Korea. Likewise, with the port of Vladivostok as an outpost which is both a naval base and a developing industrial centre, Russia controls a pivotal frontier position in the Far East. Nevertheless, the ability of the Russians to play as a force to be reckoned with in Asia is limited by an overall lack of logistical infrastructure that can overcome obstacles like the sheer vastness of the Eurasian steppes, the frozen wastelands of the Siberian tundra, the Gobi Desert and some of the world’s tallest mountain ranges (including the Himalayas, the Tian Shan and the Hindu Kush). Other restrictive factors include financial constraints, few warm-water ports which offer mercantile connections to the wider world and the absence of a full-fledged blue-water navy that can carry out large-scale expeditionary operations in the Indo-Pacific.
In the early post-Cold War era —and motivated by an aspiration to reach some sort of strategic partnership or, at the very least, a negotiated accommodation— Russia prioritised a rapprochement with Western powers. In the long run, such effort did not deliver the expected outcomes, to put it charitably. Nevertheless, in a bid to hedge its bets, Moscow also invested in the parallel and incremental development of stronger ties to Asia. In this period, Russia and China started building a stronger collaborative bilateral relationship, a major game-changer that required sidelining mutual animosities and distrust. Such a process was facilitated by the growing discontent of both states with unipolarity. In this regard, the Russian Federation joined collective structures with an Eastward orientation like the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation forum, the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation and the BRICS bloc.
At first, these steps were exploratory, gradual and experimental. After all, despite its increasing revisionist attitude in Eastern Europe and strategic spots of the post-Soviet space, Russia had acted as a status quo power in Asia. Uninterested in overturning the existing correlation of forces there, Moscow was mainly focused on transactional deals, alternative consumer markets for Russian exports and furthering mutually beneficial cooperation in an emerging polycentric world order. However, the following reasons have compelled the Russians to reinforce the weight of their involvement in Asian geopolitical dynamics.
As foreseen by General Karl Haushofer, the Indo-Pacific has become the world’s epicentre of global geopolitical and economic gravity. This condition is reflected in the rise of China as a major power, the proliferation of regional geopolitical tensions, strategic reconfigurations and the growing assertiveness of Japan and India. As such, it operates as the main theatre of engagement in the simmering strategic competition between the US and China. As the ‘Middle Kingdom’ seeks to claim regional hegemony —through its axial control of systems, platforms and vectors which underpin complex interdependence—, Washington is troubled by the emergence of a peer competitor. In addition, considering the region’s position as a thriving hub for cutting-edge innovations, Russia can also rely on the Indo-Pacific to access both international financial arteries unrelated to the US dollar and advanced technologies. For the Valdai Club, the Indo-Pacific region constitutes a chance for Russia to make “a leap into the future”.
The seismic outbreak of the Ukraine War has triggered a collision between Russia and the greatest powers of the collective West, under the leadership of the US through the strategic fulcrum of NATO. Although it has not sparked a direct kinetic confrontation (yet?), the resulting clash involves a proxy war, economic coercion, security competition and nuclear tensions. Said atmosphere has burned many of the literal and metaphorical bridges that connected Russia and the core states of the European Union. Moscow and Brussels are acting as Schmittian enemies and such a trajectory is unlikely to change, at least for the time being.
Long gone are the days in which Russian rulers like Peter the Great aspired to modernise Russia in accordance with Western European standards. The geopolitical theories derived from Eurasianism as a school of thought eschew overtures to the Atlanticist cosmopolitan ‘open societies’ of the West and their liberal values. Instead, they favour a telluric and neo-Byzantine orientation. Soviet scholar Lev Gumilev held that the organic character of the Russian people was historically closer to the identity of the fierce nomadic inhabitants of the Eurasian steppes than to the sociocultural heritage of nations from the European peninsula. The late Yevgeny Primakov —a former KGB spymaster, statesman and diplomat— believed that Russia should promote a triangular coalition integrated also by China and India as a counterweight to the Western bloc. Philosopher Aleksander Dugin argues that Russia —as a civilisational pole in its own right— needs to fulfil the historical expectations of its imperial tradition. Accordingly, Dugin claims that (in a multipolar international system) Russia must join forces with states opposed to Western hegemony and everything its universalist Davosian ideology stands for. Therefore, Dugin’s teachings prescribe the idea of courting China, India, Iran, Turkey and much of the Muslim Arab world. The official 2023 Russian Foreign Policy Concept defines this state as a “country-civilisation” with the dual condition of a Eurasian and Euro-Pacific power.
The Arctic’s diminishing ice sheets generate windows of opportunity worth harnessing to position Siberia as a gateway to establish a dominant strategic position in the planet’s northernmost corner. If Russia’s bid to seek regional hegemony in the far North is successful, then it will likely develop the ability to build substantial commercial and military naval capabilities, an ambition held by both the Czars and the Soviet admiralty. Once the Northeast Passage becomes ice-free, Moscow will be able to encourage the proliferation —through maritime freight— of international economic exchanges with the Indo-Pacific. The various natural resources that can be exploited there (especially energy and minerals) can supply the growing industries of the advanced economies found in the Pacific Basin. In other words, there is a sizable potential for economic complementariness.
In a nutshell, Moscow has powerful incentives to seek partnerships that can grant access to the Indo-Pacific so that it can play on such a chessboard. And states like Myanmar, North Korea and Vietnam can open the gates that the Russians are knocking on.
Myanmar
Despite destabilising internal political turmoil (including insurgencies, coups and cutthroat political struggles), economic trouble, uneasy relations with the West and mounting geopolitical tensions, Myanmar’s ruling military junta has proved to be highly resilient. In order to deflect the impact of Western political and economic pressure, the Tatmadaw has sought to develop closer ties to regional heavyweights like China and India, which requires the performance of a balancing act, considering the underlying rivalry between Beijing and Delhi. In this regard, embracing Russia as a third major partner makes sense from the perspective of Myanmar’s national interests. For Yangon, befriending Moscow offers a pragmatic conduit to avoid overreliance on much closer partners with which asymmetries are profound through a policy of diversification and also as an additional source of political legitimacy. Unlike China or India, Russia cannot easily overpower Myanmar. And unlike Washington and Brussels, Moscow could not care less about the nature of Myanmar’s regime, as long as this Southeast Asian state offers favourable strategic benefits. From the Kremlin’s viewpoint, a businesslike connection to a full-fledged ASEAN member —despite questionable reputational credentials— confers regional influence and economic opportunities. Politically and symbolically, courting a state ostracised by the West represents an outspoken act of adversarial defiance. After all, it would not be the first time in which the Russians supported unsavoury partners because of their usefulness for Richelovian Realpolitik.
In this regard, both states are interested in the fruits of military collaboration and maritime security. Tellingly, the two countries have held joint naval exercises in the Sea of Andaman involving aircraft and warships. Likewise, Myanmar represents an attractive consumer market for Russian exports. Weaponry manufactured by the Russian military-industrial complex can upgrade Yangon’s hard power capabilities, providing an upper hand against domestic enemies. Russia has become the main source of military equipment for Myanmar after the generals took over (again) in 2021. There is also strong reciprocal diplomatic support between both states. Myanmar is also interested in affordable and reliable access to Russian hydrocarbons, which is also convenient for Moscow’s plans to divert its supplies of fossil fuels away from Europe to various alternative destinations in the Global South. Rosatom (the Russian state-owned company responsible for nuclear power) is assisting Myanmar in the development of a nuclear reactor through technical assistance, specialised training and technology transfers. As lifelines, these measures can ameliorate Myanmar’s worsening energy crisis —which includes fuel shortages, skyrocketing prices and unreliable electricity—, a problem which endangers both economic functionality and effective political governance. Additionally, as states under Western sanctions, both sides are interested in the development of parallel financial architectures that bypass the dominance of the dollar as a hegemonic reserve currency. For example, they have also agreed to carry out energy transactions through settlements denominated in the Russian rouble. Finally, from Russia’s perspective, Myanmar’s abundant deposits of minerals —including strategic rare-earth metals and gemstones— represent an attractive asset, especially considering Russia’s privileged market power in the field of commodities.
North Korea
For most Western states, North Korea is a “rogue state”, an “outpost of tyranny” and a card-carrying member of the “axis of evil”. Nevertheless, the same reasons why this hermit kingdom is literally regarded as radioactive in the West are the same reasons why Pyongyang might be useful for Moscow in its ongoing security competition with leading Atlanticist powers. During the Cold War, North Korea —as a communist state anchored to the Soviet geopolitical and ideological orbit— was strongly supported by the Kremlin. After the implosion of the USSR and until not long ago, Moscow had assumed a balanced position that favoured the preservation of the status quo in the Korean peninsula through diplomatic means. Russian diplomacy even supported the multilateral adoption of sanctions as a response to North Korea’s constant acts of nuclear brinksmanship.
However, the overarching aftermath of the Ukraine War has pushed the Russians to reassess their previous policies as a way to satisfy the pressing necessities of statecraft under extraordinary circumstances. As a result, Russia decided to cross the Rubicon by recruiting North Korea as a full-fledged strategic partner. This radical departure has been characterised as the most tectonic geopolitical event in the peninsula since the outbreak of the Korean War. Yet, despite its confrontational undertones (especially considering its consequential byproducts for the national security of states like Japan and South Korea, both of which are under the nuclear umbrella of the Americans), this realignment does not necessarily represent an Apocalyptic prelude to war. To keep things in perspective, this treaty is a renewal of an earlier pact —signed in 1961 between the USSR and the DPRK— whose provisions related to mutual military defence in case of contingencies were never activated. Instead, it would be more accurate to frame it as a rational high-risk high-return gamble in which both sides are willing to play with danger with the expectation of achieving breakthroughs or facts on the ground that can potentially deliver mutually beneficial outcomes. As Machiavelli observed centuries ago, nothing of importance can ever be achieved without exposure to danger.
The recent security pact between Russia and North Korea —which contemplates a commitment to reciprocal defence and military assistance in case either country faces a direct threat— is notable for various reasons. First, Russia and North Korea are states armed with nukes. Moscow possesses the world’s top nuclear arsenal and the Russian military operates state-of-the-art delivery systems. In turn, North Korean statecraft has mastered the tricky art of nuclear blackmail as a modus vivendi. Yet, Pyongyang does not intend to trigger a nuclear Armageddon motivated by a death wish. Instead, it relies on nuclear threats as a way to get diplomatic and economic concessions, particularly as a way to compensate for the country’s backwardness in comparison to much of East Asia. Second, both Russians and North Koreans have common enemies, as they are locked in an increasingly tense strategic confrontation with the United States. Third, this shift alters the balance of power in Northeast Asia. It can be interpreted as a partial response to Washington’s efforts to build an Indo-Pacific equivalent of NATO, the failure to normalise relations between the US and North Korea and the delivery of American weapons to Ukraine. Unsurprisingly, it is also consistent with the Russian threat to bolster the strength of states opposed to the so-called ‘collective West’. On the other hand, both states share an interest in diminishing their asymmetric reliance on China in a way that does not alienate Beijing or lead to painful concessions to the West. The Russians and the North Koreans know that the ‘Middle Kingdom’ is a valuable senior partner, but neither wants to be a vassal. Tellingly, both the Russian National Security Strategy and the principles of Juche ideology share a staunch commitment to the preservation of sovereignty in all respects as a quintessential component of statehood.
An emerging strategic alliance between Moscow and Pyongyang certainly raises the qualitative profile of bilateral ties beyond a purely transactional threshold, but there is limited political will and material ability to participate together in warfighting in the same military operational theatres. The idea that regular North Korean troops might directly assist Russian forces in Ukraine’s Eastern Oblasts is out of touch with reality. A more realistic possibility is the development of geopolitical coordination through overlapping military, technological, diplomatic and economic synergies. For example, an exchange of Russian technical assistance (in advanced industrial fields like nuclear technologies, aerospace and artificial intelligence) for North Korean military materials like artillery shells, missiles, ammo and bullets for Moscow’s war effort in Ukraine would be a more realistic and immediate expression of this collaboration. It would also represent a catalyst to explore further —and more far-reaching— possibilities in the foreseeable future. North Korea and Russia can also cooperate through intelligence-sharing and the exchange of their expertise in esoteric matters related to cyber warfare and asymmetric economic warfare. As a result of their common need to override American sanctions, Moscow and Pyongyang have come up with innovative responsive strategies involving ingredients such as de-dollarisation, non-Western currencies, hard assets like gold, stateless cryptocurrencies and alternative financial structures. The importance of bilateral trade remains negligible, but in an age shaped by the rising weight of geoeconomics, both states seem determined to deepen interconnectedness through trade, financial services, infrastructure, tourism and the joint development of free economic zones. Finally, Russian cash and specialised technical know-how can be eventually helpful to harness the full potential of North Korea’s vast underexploited mineral wealth, including industrial and precious metals, rare earths and untapped reserves of fossil fuels.
Vietnam
The Russians are no strangers in Vietnam. In accordance with the intended geopolitical projection of its grand strategy in much of the ‘third world’, the Soviet Union strongly backed the Vietnamese in their military conflicts with France, the US and China during the Cold War. Furthermore, as an Asian communist nation that joined the Soviet-led Council for Mutual Economic Assistance (COMECON), Vietnam received economic benefits from the Soviets. Although not completely suspended, this closeness was weakened by the implosion of the USSR, but it did not fade away. For example, open sources report that there are nearly 80,000 Vietnamese citizens living in Russia today. In the post-Cold War era, despite its nominal status as a Communist nation, Vietnam upgraded the profile of its economy through neo-mercantilist industrial policies. Vietnam’s ranking in Harvard’s Atlas of Economic Complexity went from the world’s 107th place in 1995 to the 61st position in 2021. According to the World Bank, in terms of GDP, Vietnam is ahead of economies like Iran, Kazakhstan and Hungary. Furthermore, Vietnam’s foreign policy —driven mostly by Realist statecraft and geopolitical reasonings— has improved ties to the US as a counterweight to the rise of China as an emerging great power in Asia. Despite intrepid overtures to foster better relations, both nations remain conflicting neighbours. The reproachment between Washington and Hanoi has also been fuelled by a shared interest in promoting mutually beneficial economic exchanges.
However, Vietnam’s policymakers likely believe that the country’s engagement with great powers —particularly in a multipolar environment— should not be binary, especially considering the nonaligned character of Hanoi’s foreign policy. Since Vietnam is an emerging regional power in its own right, reconnecting with the Russians is helpful to navigate in a more self-confident way in a volatile international system in which the future of global hegemony is unclear. Under such conditions, counterbalancing is pertinent for Vietnam and states with a similar calibre that need strategic flexibility. The underlying logic of this “bamboo diplomacy” explains why Vietnamese foreign policy has been careful not to antagonise either Russia or the West in the wake of the Ukraine War, seen in Hanoi as a distant (and ideologically charged) European conflict in which there is no vital need to take sides. For Moscow, stronger ties to Vietnam mean possibilities to do business, play an influential role in the geopolitical landscape of Southeast Asia, shape the region’s security architecture and cultivate the diplomatic prestige that comes with engaging a state like Vietnam. Unlike other Russian junior partners, Vietnam is far from being an underdeveloped peripheral backwater. As one of the “tiger cub economies”, it has the profile of a rising state with flourishing growth which attracts Washington’s attention for strategic and commercial reasons. In this regard, President Putin’s recent trip to Hanoi seeks to highlight that, despite the ongoing standoff between Moscow and Western powers over Ukraine, the strategic horizon of Russian statecraft has enough bandwidth to manoeuvre in Indochina.
The spectrum of bilateral collaboration between Moscow and Hanoi comprises strategic, military, diplomatic, economic and technical ingredients. Both sides are interested in furthering the resulting benefits on a win-win basis, but not necessarily in an overtly confrontational way towards other states. In this regard, the recent high-profile meeting of their leaders represented a step in this direction. The Russian and the Vietnamese delegations agreed to deepen cooperation in the field of energy, including oil and gas exploration, LNG projects, renewables and civilian nuclear technologies. On the other hand, there were also bilateral agreements whose nature and contents were not publicly disclosed. However, there are various factors which are suggestive of emerging ties in the covert netherworld of intelligence activities, secret weapons procurement programmes and defence. These include the traditional condition of Vietnam as a buyer of Russian military hardware, a shared interest in addressing unconventional security challenges, suspicious incidents, a common proclivity for strategic pluralism and preferential access for Russian forces —including both aircraft and warships— to the Cam Rahn Bay base.
Moreover, there are partial strategic convergences in the domain of economic statecraft. As an extraordinary countermeasure designed so that mutual economic exchanges can thrive despite the implementation of Western sanctions, both sides have relied on de-dollarisation. Nearly 60% of bilateral trade operations are denominated in either Russian roubles or Vietnamese dong. It must be noted that Moscow is at the forefront of a global campaign to diminish the greenback’s hegemonic position as the top reserve currency —and its privileged role as the linchpin of most international transactions— through the development of asymmetric alternatives. Additionally, now that Russia has little access to Western goods, this Eurasian state represents a potentially attractive consumer market for the exports of Vietnamese agricultural products, foodstuffs, industrial materials, manufactures and electronics. Finally, Russia’s role as a supplier of coal for the Vietnamese economy is likely to persist and both sides are seemingly eager to promote cooperation in the commercial exploitation of mineral natural resources and the extraction of fossil fuels.
Conclusions
Regarding comparative weights of geopolitical influence, Moscow is behind Beijing and Washington in the Indo-Pacific, but Russian statecraft has tailored a deck of cards worth playing to forge strategic partnerships in the Eastern rimlands of the Eurasian landmass. Although the prospect of a direct Russian military intervention there is remote, the Russians are investing and mobilising many assets of national power in the development of stronger ties in such a theatre of engagement. In contrast to Eastern Europe and some corners of the post-Soviet space, the Kremlin is relying on carrots rather than on sticks in these distant corners of the Mackinderian ‘world island’. With its incremental pivot to Asia, the Kremlin is therefore positioning itself as a growing force to be reckoned with in the region’s increasingly contested and polycentric strategic environment.
Unlike its previous policies, Russia —as an increasingly assertive great power-driven by a revisionist inclination— is prepared to take sides, negotiate Faustian pacts and challenge Washington and its allies in the aforementioned chessboard. Yet, far from pursuing conquest in the Indo-Pacific, Russian grand strategy there has been masterminded to focus on harnessing the potential benefits of emerging connections, accumulating bargaining chips and detaching pivotal Asian states from the gravitational pull of Western naval powers. To a certain extent, Moscow’s relative gains have been facilitated by the reluctance of Western states to act pragmatically as a result of ideological sanctimoniousness. In contrast, the crux of the Russian approach is to work unjudgementally with whatever is available within the margins of existing convergences rather than to expect to remake the world according to its preferential Weltanschauung. Moscow cannot afford to be picky, especially considering its condition as a continental power trying to further its sway in an amphibian geopolitical ecosystem in which the world’s largest maritime space meets the Easternmost edges of Eurasia.
In the context of the region’s evolving order, medium Asian powers that need to either counterbalance or hedge are willing to opportunistically embrace Moscow’s convenient contributions for their own national interests. After all, as a dispersed geopolitical Grossraum, the dimensions, obstacles and characteristics of the Indo-Pacific favour strategic pluralism, axial networks of interdependence through multidimensional engagements and constant realignments rather than a fixed structure of coalitions. Accordingly, it would be misleading to classify Myanmar, North Korea and Vietnam —despite their asymmetric status as junior partners— as mere Russian satellites, pawns or client states. For these heterogeneous states with diverging needs, priorities and ambitions, Russia is a welcome guest because it represents a source of instrumental advantages, a selective ally in certain fields and an aspiring cornerstone of tomorrow’s world order, but not a patron to defer to. In turn, through these gateways, Russia intends to perform as one of the key protagonists in the Concert of Asia. In this accelerating reorientation of the Russian compass towards the East, the die is cast.
