he Arctic is perhaps one of the few areas of the world where “here be dragons” would still be an appropriate cartographic label. While the area is certainly no longer uncharted, its remoteness, isolation, and forbidding conditions make it more a source of imagination than fact, filled with cliches about polar bears and ice flows, and, increasingly, a renewed literal “cold war” between Russia and the United States. The great white frozen expanse is a place where fevered dreams stand in place of considered analysis and factual grounding, particularly when that analysis runs contrary to the received wisdom about Russia’s behavior and intentions. Dr. Elizabeth Buchanan offers one of the most thought-provoking and incisive analyses about Russia’s policy in the Arctic in her book “Red Arctic: Russian Strategy Under Putin,” a copy of which was kindly provided by the author for review.
I selected “Red Arctic” as one of my 2022 books to look forward to, but due to publishing delays, it only just came out in March 2023. I can, however, confidently say that it was well worth the wait. “Red Arctic” is expertly constructed, building on successive blocks to make its case. First and foremost, Buchanan articulates Russia’s legitimate interests and claims to the Arctic. Given the sheer expansiveness of its territory in the Arctic Circle—it represents some 53% of the Arctic’s coastline and has 2.5 million residents within the Arctic—it is hard to argue that Russia is not an Arctic power. Indeed, as she writes, “whether by way of geography, international legal norms, or history, one cannot deny Russia’s majority stake in the Arctic.” It is important to recognize legitimate national interests when examining an issue, and Buchanan does a superb job of framing this issue dispassionately.
She also demonstrates why there is so much interest in the Arctic. While potential energy resources receive the bulk of the attention, it is also the possibility of multiple sea routes through the Arctic Circle that are proving increasingly attractive, particularly to Beijing. According to estimates from China, the Northern Sea Route could save as much as 20 days over a comparable journey through the Suez Canal from Asia.
“Red Arctic” then turns to Russia’s policy toward the region. Buchanan goes to the source documents to explore and unpack Russia’s strategy in the Arctic. The value of this is indescribable; it is a welcome, but surprisingly underused approach. “Russian Grand Strategy,” edited by Dr. Andrew Monaghan, follows a very similar analytical process, looking at what the Russians themselves actually say, eschewing the tendency to look at Moscow’s activities or behaviors in a vacuum. As Russia’s policy towards the Arctic evolved under President Vladimir Putin, cooperation and engagement remained at the heart of Moscow’s behavior, even while it pursued its interests unilaterally or more aggressively elsewhere. It highlights a rather simple, but often overlooked truth: States can pursue their interests in different domains in different areas.
As Buchanan shows, Russia’s policy toward the Arctic has evolved and become increasingly securitized, though not militarized—an important distinction. The former is about an issue becoming more of a security issue or concern, the latter is the pursuit of this interest through the threat or use of the force of arms. Clearly, the Arctic is the latter for Russia and indeed the other members of the Arctic Council. The economic exploitation of the resources in the region creates its own risks and opportunities including everything from search and rescue requirements to the safe transit of vessels to environmental risks.
Yet the overwhelming tendency is to focus on the hard power military aspects of the Arctic, which is somewhat a legacy of the actual Cold War and a function of some of Russia’s own behaviors that feed into American and NATO fears of Moscow’s intentions. These fears are, according to Buchanan, somewhat overblown given the sheer challenge of operating in the area and the obstacles to military activity. According to one Russian government official, “It is difficult to fight over a region that simply will not host a battle.” It is important to note that it is difficult, but not impossible.
Nonetheless, “Moscow has recalibrated its security capabilities on its wide-open (and increasingly busy) Arctic flank.” This recalibration and investment are, arguably, about the securitization of Arctic policy, and will have commercial benefits e.g., search and rescue, safe navigation etc. When viewed through the lens of the legacy of the Cold War, this deployment has potential dual use capabilities and has led to the United States increasingly viewing the Arctic through the lens of potential conflict with Moscow.
At the core of “Red Arctic” is Buchanan’s compelling case that Moscow is more interested in and needs a benign and cooperative environment in the Arctic, and that the more breathless and hyperbolic takes of a literal “cold war” in the Arctic are overblown. This is in some ways a contrarian take (although it certainly should not be)—the consensus is that Russian foreign policy was and remains confrontational and aggressive in all domains all the time. Yet, Russia’s Arctic policy is separated both by geographic consequence and political necessity from its more adventurous policy elsewhere. Even when the Kremlin sought to beat its chest and display its martial prowess either through the planting of the titanium flag on the ocean floor or via military exercises on Alexandra Island, this was more pantomime theater than actual display of capability or intent. As Buchanan writes, these activities were more directed at Russia’s domestic population and poor attempts at grasping at great power status than anything else.
In actuality, the Kremlin’s need for foreign investment and technology, and the complex operating environment of the Arctic demanded that it pursues a more cooperative pattern of behavior. Rather than aggressively assert its claims, Moscow has worked through established legal mechanisms and court proceedings. Buchanan’s use of the negotiations with Norway over a territorial dispute and the Kremlin’s use of tame energy companies to secure partnerships with foreign oil and gas majors is illustrative of this more amenable Kremlin. In the case of the former, Oslo and Moscow resolved a long-standing dispute through quiet negotiation and reaching a mutually beneficial accord. It is notable that even after Russia’s 2014 annexation of Crimea and despite sanctions, Norway continued some energy engagement with Moscow, though this was curtailed later in 2015.
In the case of Russia’s pursuit of foreign energy partnerships, while not as successful, Russia used its energy companies to pursue the exploitation of the Arctic’s energy resources. Those companies relied on a stable political situation and contractual constancy—the Kremlin could ill-afford to create conditions that were unsuitable for the long-term investment needed to exploit the undersea resources.
“Red Arctic” is a book that is not just a supremely insightful book about the subject in question—Russia’s policy in the Arctic—but about the broader subject (the Arctic) itself. It offers a deep and rich look at both the Kremlin’s foreign policy, and the dynamics amongst the Arctic Five—Canada, Denmark, Norway, Russia, and the United States—and the broader community of interested nations and the environment itself. Buchanan successfully frames the challenge of the Arctic, but also the competing and overlapping interests of this area which is drawing increased interest from around the world. She also tamps down the more breathless claims to a new “great game” in the Arctic, or the scramble for the resources under the increasingly scarce sea ice.
Even if the ice sheet melts completely in the summer months because of climate change, it will still be amongst the most challenging operating environments in the world. Indeed, the technology to operate safely and securely in this domain—no oil company wants to be the first to have an Arctic spill—simply is not mature enough yet (one test rig became unmoored and floated to the Alaskan coast). Moreover, so long as the oil price remains below an economically viable floor, few companies will be willing to risk the necessary capital investment to exploit the undersea resources. There will, of course, be exploratory research, mapping, and preliminary investment as oil and gas companies hedge their bets.
How Russia’s invasion of Ukraine will affect the longer-term prospects of Russia in the Arctic remains unknown. At its core, Russia’s interest in the region and the need for a more cooperative environment are unlikely to change. The need for investment and cooperation will continue, but what will change and has already shifted, is the willingness of the other four Arctic Five members, the European Union, and NATO to engage with Russia. This may, ironically, force Moscow to pursue more cooperative relations with non-Arctic Five members such as India and China. Beijing, which sees itself as a “near Arctic” state (despite not being anywhere near the Arctic) is one of Russia’s few remaining allies and will both provide capital and technology to Moscow.
Could the Arctic serve as a starting point for re-engagement between Russia and the members of the Arctic Five post-Ukraine? It certainly could serve as a first foundational step towards reconstituting relations, but there does not appear to be any willingness to engage for the foreseeable future. It is also clear that the war in Ukraine has sharply curtailed Russia’s ability to invest in its Arctic infrastructure both military and otherwise. While existing programs may be carried through to completion e.g., ice-breaker construction, it is difficult to see Russia pouring increasingly finite resources into the Arctic while it is working to reconstitute its conventional forces.
“Red Arctic” is an invaluable contribution to the understanding of Russian foreign policy and strategic behavior. While much remains unknown about the future direction of the Kremlin’s ambitions and intentions in the Arctic, Buchanan offers a highly nuanced look into how Russia’s policies are developed, and how Moscow sees and pursues its interests in the Arctic. Buchanan’s book will likely be the benchmark against which other books on Russia in the Arctic are measured.
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A Reality Check on Russia’s Arctic Ambitions
Image by David Mark from Pixabay
April 8, 2023
The Arctic Circle is increasingly a space for geopolitical competition, and for Russia it is both a space for energy extraction and attractive sea routes. In "Red Arctic," Elizabeth Buchanan provides a refreshing, wide-reaching perspective on Russia's ambitions there, writes Joshua Huminski.
T
he Arctic is perhaps one of the few areas of the world where “here be dragons” would still be an appropriate cartographic label. While the area is certainly no longer uncharted, its remoteness, isolation, and forbidding conditions make it more a source of imagination than fact, filled with cliches about polar bears and ice flows, and, increasingly, a renewed literal “cold war” between Russia and the United States. The great white frozen expanse is a place where fevered dreams stand in place of considered analysis and factual grounding, particularly when that analysis runs contrary to the received wisdom about Russia’s behavior and intentions. Dr. Elizabeth Buchanan offers one of the most thought-provoking and incisive analyses about Russia’s policy in the Arctic in her book “Red Arctic: Russian Strategy Under Putin,” a copy of which was kindly provided by the author for review.
I selected “Red Arctic” as one of my 2022 books to look forward to, but due to publishing delays, it only just came out in March 2023. I can, however, confidently say that it was well worth the wait. “Red Arctic” is expertly constructed, building on successive blocks to make its case. First and foremost, Buchanan articulates Russia’s legitimate interests and claims to the Arctic. Given the sheer expansiveness of its territory in the Arctic Circle—it represents some 53% of the Arctic’s coastline and has 2.5 million residents within the Arctic—it is hard to argue that Russia is not an Arctic power. Indeed, as she writes, “whether by way of geography, international legal norms, or history, one cannot deny Russia’s majority stake in the Arctic.” It is important to recognize legitimate national interests when examining an issue, and Buchanan does a superb job of framing this issue dispassionately.
She also demonstrates why there is so much interest in the Arctic. While potential energy resources receive the bulk of the attention, it is also the possibility of multiple sea routes through the Arctic Circle that are proving increasingly attractive, particularly to Beijing. According to estimates from China, the Northern Sea Route could save as much as 20 days over a comparable journey through the Suez Canal from Asia.
“Red Arctic” then turns to Russia’s policy toward the region. Buchanan goes to the source documents to explore and unpack Russia’s strategy in the Arctic. The value of this is indescribable; it is a welcome, but surprisingly underused approach. “Russian Grand Strategy,” edited by Dr. Andrew Monaghan, follows a very similar analytical process, looking at what the Russians themselves actually say, eschewing the tendency to look at Moscow’s activities or behaviors in a vacuum. As Russia’s policy towards the Arctic evolved under President Vladimir Putin, cooperation and engagement remained at the heart of Moscow’s behavior, even while it pursued its interests unilaterally or more aggressively elsewhere. It highlights a rather simple, but often overlooked truth: States can pursue their interests in different domains in different areas.
As Buchanan shows, Russia’s policy toward the Arctic has evolved and become increasingly securitized, though not militarized—an important distinction. The former is about an issue becoming more of a security issue or concern, the latter is the pursuit of this interest through the threat or use of the force of arms. Clearly, the Arctic is the latter for Russia and indeed the other members of the Arctic Council. The economic exploitation of the resources in the region creates its own risks and opportunities including everything from search and rescue requirements to the safe transit of vessels to environmental risks.
Yet the overwhelming tendency is to focus on the hard power military aspects of the Arctic, which is somewhat a legacy of the actual Cold War and a function of some of Russia’s own behaviors that feed into American and NATO fears of Moscow’s intentions. These fears are, according to Buchanan, somewhat overblown given the sheer challenge of operating in the area and the obstacles to military activity. According to one Russian government official, “It is difficult to fight over a region that simply will not host a battle.” It is important to note that it is difficult, but not impossible.
Nonetheless, “Moscow has recalibrated its security capabilities on its wide-open (and increasingly busy) Arctic flank.” This recalibration and investment are, arguably, about the securitization of Arctic policy, and will have commercial benefits e.g., search and rescue, safe navigation etc. When viewed through the lens of the legacy of the Cold War, this deployment has potential dual use capabilities and has led to the United States increasingly viewing the Arctic through the lens of potential conflict with Moscow.
At the core of “Red Arctic” is Buchanan’s compelling case that Moscow is more interested in and needs a benign and cooperative environment in the Arctic, and that the more breathless and hyperbolic takes of a literal “cold war” in the Arctic are overblown. This is in some ways a contrarian take (although it certainly should not be)—the consensus is that Russian foreign policy was and remains confrontational and aggressive in all domains all the time. Yet, Russia’s Arctic policy is separated both by geographic consequence and political necessity from its more adventurous policy elsewhere. Even when the Kremlin sought to beat its chest and display its martial prowess either through the planting of the titanium flag on the ocean floor or via military exercises on Alexandra Island, this was more pantomime theater than actual display of capability or intent. As Buchanan writes, these activities were more directed at Russia’s domestic population and poor attempts at grasping at great power status than anything else.
In actuality, the Kremlin’s need for foreign investment and technology, and the complex operating environment of the Arctic demanded that it pursues a more cooperative pattern of behavior. Rather than aggressively assert its claims, Moscow has worked through established legal mechanisms and court proceedings. Buchanan’s use of the negotiations with Norway over a territorial dispute and the Kremlin’s use of tame energy companies to secure partnerships with foreign oil and gas majors is illustrative of this more amenable Kremlin. In the case of the former, Oslo and Moscow resolved a long-standing dispute through quiet negotiation and reaching a mutually beneficial accord. It is notable that even after Russia’s 2014 annexation of Crimea and despite sanctions, Norway continued some energy engagement with Moscow, though this was curtailed later in 2015.
In the case of Russia’s pursuit of foreign energy partnerships, while not as successful, Russia used its energy companies to pursue the exploitation of the Arctic’s energy resources. Those companies relied on a stable political situation and contractual constancy—the Kremlin could ill-afford to create conditions that were unsuitable for the long-term investment needed to exploit the undersea resources.
“Red Arctic” is a book that is not just a supremely insightful book about the subject in question—Russia’s policy in the Arctic—but about the broader subject (the Arctic) itself. It offers a deep and rich look at both the Kremlin’s foreign policy, and the dynamics amongst the Arctic Five—Canada, Denmark, Norway, Russia, and the United States—and the broader community of interested nations and the environment itself. Buchanan successfully frames the challenge of the Arctic, but also the competing and overlapping interests of this area which is drawing increased interest from around the world. She also tamps down the more breathless claims to a new “great game” in the Arctic, or the scramble for the resources under the increasingly scarce sea ice.
Even if the ice sheet melts completely in the summer months because of climate change, it will still be amongst the most challenging operating environments in the world. Indeed, the technology to operate safely and securely in this domain—no oil company wants to be the first to have an Arctic spill—simply is not mature enough yet (one test rig became unmoored and floated to the Alaskan coast). Moreover, so long as the oil price remains below an economically viable floor, few companies will be willing to risk the necessary capital investment to exploit the undersea resources. There will, of course, be exploratory research, mapping, and preliminary investment as oil and gas companies hedge their bets.
How Russia’s invasion of Ukraine will affect the longer-term prospects of Russia in the Arctic remains unknown. At its core, Russia’s interest in the region and the need for a more cooperative environment are unlikely to change. The need for investment and cooperation will continue, but what will change and has already shifted, is the willingness of the other four Arctic Five members, the European Union, and NATO to engage with Russia. This may, ironically, force Moscow to pursue more cooperative relations with non-Arctic Five members such as India and China. Beijing, which sees itself as a “near Arctic” state (despite not being anywhere near the Arctic) is one of Russia’s few remaining allies and will both provide capital and technology to Moscow.
Could the Arctic serve as a starting point for re-engagement between Russia and the members of the Arctic Five post-Ukraine? It certainly could serve as a first foundational step towards reconstituting relations, but there does not appear to be any willingness to engage for the foreseeable future. It is also clear that the war in Ukraine has sharply curtailed Russia’s ability to invest in its Arctic infrastructure both military and otherwise. While existing programs may be carried through to completion e.g., ice-breaker construction, it is difficult to see Russia pouring increasingly finite resources into the Arctic while it is working to reconstitute its conventional forces.
“Red Arctic” is an invaluable contribution to the understanding of Russian foreign policy and strategic behavior. While much remains unknown about the future direction of the Kremlin’s ambitions and intentions in the Arctic, Buchanan offers a highly nuanced look into how Russia’s policies are developed, and how Moscow sees and pursues its interests in the Arctic. Buchanan’s book will likely be the benchmark against which other books on Russia in the Arctic are measured.
