By Ana VraCar, Breakthrough News, 7/22/26

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s recent dismissal of Defense Minister Mykhailo Fedorov – credited by many for Ukraine’s drone strikes into Russian territory – has triggered widespread protests, exposing continuing instability at this level of government. At the same time, European leaders continue approving new loans for Ukraine’s armament and imposing fresh sanctions on Russia, while the Ukrainian working class bears the brutal cost through violent street conscriptions.

In this interview with BreakThrough News, sociologist Volodymyr Ishchenko analyzes the presence of colonial-style exploitation and class conflict in the war in Ukraine. He explores scenarios ranging from nuclear war to failed-state fragmentation, emphasizing that Ukraine’s fate is tied to global shifts – it is now up to the international anti-militarist left to challenge the austerity-and-armament agenda driving the catastrophe.

BreakThrough News: Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy recently dismissed Mykhailo Fedorov from the post of defense minister, triggering widespread protests across the country. Demonstrators demanded Fedorov’s reinstatement and the removal of Commander-in-Chief Oleksandr Syrskyi [editor’s note: the interview was conducted before Syrskyi was removed from the post on July 21]. How should we interpret this cabinet reshuffle and the mobilization that followed? 

Volodymyr Ishchenko: These events stem from the same fundamental conflict that has defined Ukrainian politics since the collapse of the Soviet Union, the very conflict that stands behind this war. On one side are local political capitalists, businesses that grew out of post-Soviet predatory privatization and selective state benefits, yet have consistently failed to establish sovereign rule in Ukraine. On the other side is a professional middle class aligned with transnational capital, betting on integration into the crumbling US-centered international order. 

The recent escalation is a direct continuation of last year’s events, when Zelenskyy tried and failed to take control over anti-corruption institutions. In an article with Peter Korotaev last year, we discussed how anti-corruption bodies designed by comprador “civil society” and supported by the West became a “state within the state” in post-Euromaidan Ukraine, and why the conflict around them was never truly about democracy. Since then, this conflict has not been developing in Zelenskyy’s favor. Anti-corruption bodies revealed large-scale corruption schemes involving some of the president’s closest associates. His chief of administration, Andriy Yermak, Ukraine’s “grey cardinal” for years, was forced out and now faces charges.

Now comes Fedorov. In pro-Western circles, he was credited with Ukraine’s only significant successes since 2022: the medium- and long-range drone strikes that caused gasoline shortages across Russia and electricity cuts in Crimea. He was becoming popular, and within comprador circles, he was increasingly seen as a potential successor, or even a replacement, for Zelenskyy. Behind this lay competition between patronage networks over military supplies and associated corruption schemes. So Fedorov did not go quietly. His public attack was not just on Syrskyi. It aimed at further weakening Zelenskyy. Essentially, the pro-Western compradors demanded the power to change the commander-in-chief in the middle of the war.

It is worth remembering that all Ukrainian presidents have failed to consolidate a sovereign state. This was prevented not just by protests, which were historically far more massive than anything we have seen in support of “anti-corruption” institutions or Fedorov recently, but also crucially by rifts and the power of local opportunistic elites. Zelenskyy failed last year primarily due to pressure from the EU, and it is unclear whether he can succeed this time. So far, his vacillations regarding the name of the new defense minister, and his hints that certain changes in the army might follow in response to the protests, only contribute to further destabilization.

Compare this to Russia. In 2023, Putin met a much stronger challenge: a real mutiny by the private military company “Wagner,” which demanded the dismissal of the defense minister and the chief of the general staff, whom Yevgeny Prigozhin blamed for the Russian army’s setbacks in 2022. Putin eliminated Wagner’s leadership, restructured the group, and only afterwards removed Sergei Shoigu and launched an unprecedented crackdown on corruption in the army. The sociopolitical cohesion achieved in Russia, contrasted with the disintegration occurring in Ukraine, is one of the crucial manifestations of the different paths that these two countries took in the post-Soviet period – a difference that has decisive implications for how this war develops.

BT: One of the things that comes through your commentary on the war is that it should not be understood only as a conflict between states or geopolitical blocs, but also viewed through the class structures of post-Soviet Ukraine. How has the war impacted the relationship between Ukraine’s political and economic elites, the middle classes, workers and the rural population?

VI: Looking at Ukraine today, the ruling class – the political capitalists, including but not being limited to the “oligarchs” – has been weakened economically and politically, but the overall structure of the post-Soviet class conflict remains largely unchanged. The ways of making money are essentially the same, as shown by recent scandals involving President Zelenskyy’s cronies that I have just mentioned. Basically, those connected to the presidency have seized significant opportunities to profit from the war. Despite numerous ongoing investigations, practically no one has actually been held accountable. 

Meanwhile, transnational capital and an aligned professional middle class have been empowered by Ukraine’s dependence on Western funding and weapons. Those working on projects funded by Western donors are exempt from mobilization. In 2024, an official list identified 133 Western-funded NGOs whose staff were granted draft exemptions. 

Similarly, so-called “Ukrainian voices” have launched careers in the international public sphere. We’ve seen a similar pattern with “Cuban voices,” “Venezuelan voices,” and “Iranian voices.” These “voices,” claiming to speak on behalf of the entire people, are typically drawn from privileged classes and are used to legitimize imperialism.

On the other hand, subaltern classes – primarily the working class and rural population – have borne the brunt of military conscription, exacerbated by corruption. These are the people who cannot afford bribes to evade the draft or escape the country. So, the fundamental structure of class conflict remains unchanged. But the war has deepened the asymmetry within it: those who were already organized and connected have grown stronger, while the atomized majority is now even less able to defend its interests. 

BT: Another topic you’ve written about is forced street mobilization or busification, and about the large number of Ukrainian men trying to avoid registration, conscription or military service. How widespread and systematic are these practices, and what do they tell us about the relationship between the people of Ukraine and the state?

VI: Busification and resistance to it need more attention because it’s something that has been escalating throughout the war. Busification happens every day: every day, on Ukrainian social media, you see another video from another city showing how brutally men are dragged to military recruitment offices. 

The reason is pretty simple: the number of army volunteers is extremely small, a shrinking minority at this point. One indication was last year’s experiment where they offered young men aged 18 to 24 much better conditions to join: higher pay, even a promise they could leave the country after just one year of service. Even with those promises, they only attracted a tiny fraction of people. 

This shows it’s not just about conditions in the army, but also a fundamental distrust of the state. With Peter Korotaev, we position this as a consequence of the broken post-Soviet social contract. For decades, the state offered Ukrainians less and less in terms of welfare, benefits, or prospects. At the same time, it didn’t ask for much in return; you could evade taxes, for example, and this was done en masse. But then the war started, and the state began demanding that people sacrifice themselves or their relatives for a state that had offered them almost nothing in life. 

This couldn’t work. By late 2022, most joining the army were mobilized, not volunteers. And already in 2022, social media channels emerged helping people avoid mobilization patrols by sharing which streets recruiters were hitting in which cities. Those channels had hundreds of thousands of subscribers in big cities like Kharkov.

Mass draft dodging has only grown since. The latest data we have on criminal cases opened against those absent without leave (AWOL) is in the hundreds of thousands. The numbers are so high that last year, the state officially classified the statistics because it represented a threat to national security, showing how little Ukrainians want to fight for this state. People massively avoided even updating basic contact info they were required by the law in 2024, making it harder for the state to send draft notices strategically. 

This resistance is growing and becoming more frequent, perhaps showing qualitative advances too. Until now, most resistance was spontaneous, passersby or relatives trying to help a guy escape from minibuses. There was no organization or evidence of coordination between different initiatives. But recently, it has taken on a more massive scale, like riots. These are still spontaneous but start involving whole neighborhoods. One recent case in Lviv caused quite a stir among pro-recruitment supporters. 

There’s also evidence of emerging strikes against mobilization, particularly by drivers of private minibuses. In the context of the post-Soviet collapse of public transport, these private operators took on large shares of urban transit. Unlike public transport companies, they are not exempt from the draft, so drivers have been regularly recruited – and they’ve protested this. One of the examples worth noting was a recent demonstration in Vinnytsia, where minibus drivers stopped working for half a day. This is important because it’s not just spontaneous resistance; it’s a sign of organized action by the working class or petty entrepreneurs defending their collective interests against state mobilization.

BT: Ukraine’s state and state-guaranteed debt now runs into hundreds of billions of euros, with the EU being one of the largest creditors. What does this relationship with the EU mean for the future of the working class in Ukraine?

VI: Most likely, Ukraine won’t be able to pay this money back. Basically, the newest loans are structured so that Ukraine repays only if it receives reparations from Russia, which probably isn’t going to happen. 

We’ve seen how the United States, during the second Trump administration, revised its position on aid to Ukraine, imposing a minerals deal whose exact conditions remain still unknown to the Ukrainian public. Supposedly, Ukraine is going to pay for American weapons by allowing the extraction of valuable resources or by handing over valuable assets in Ukrainian infrastructure to American corporations. It’s essentially a colonial relationship. 

It’s a bit different with the EU right now, but it depends on what kind of governments emerge there in the future. If we see an Alternative for Germany administration in Germany or the National Rally seizing power in France, they may also revise their conditions for supporting Ukraine – or stop support altogether. 

But so far, the money from the EU is more or less about outsourcing security to Ukraine. The EU pays Ukraine because they are buying themselves time to prepare for a future war with Russia. They’ve said this quite openly, even though the consequences of European rearmament create social and political tensions within the EU that weaken European governments and deepen divisions within European countries. This doesn’t decrease the chances of a potential Russian attack; it probably increases them. But in relation to Ukraine, they are paying money to buy time with Ukrainian lives, at the cost of destroying the country’s future. 

Because of this, Ukraine is becoming some sort of “function-state,” existing not to represent the citizens living on its territory, but to serve European elites’ security. For it to fulfill this function, it doesn’t matter much how well the people living in Ukraine are doing. It doesn’t matter whether they have human rights or not.

Let’s also note that Ukraine is becoming depopulated. The most recent UN forecast says Ukraine’s population will drop to 15 million by the end of the century, down from 52 million after the Soviet Union’s disintegration in 1991 – a decline of some 70%. But even this might be enough for Ukraine to fulfill its function toward Europe, because what matters is the army, the necessary infrastructure and civilian sectors to serve the army, and employees for American corporations to extract resources from Ukrainian soil. Nothing more is necessary to fulfill the role they see for Ukraine.

BT: Is a different scenario possible, or a possibility for European countries to actually adopt a fairer approach to the war in Ukraine?

VI: Different scenarios are possible because there’s a crisis tendency all around the world, and the future is pretty much uncertain. What I’ve been describing isn’t even the worst-case scenario. The worst would be nuclear war. This might not be the most probable outcome, but it is a real possibility.

In a better scenario, Ukraine might become something like Georgia. That depends not only on European elites, but also on the choices of Ukrainian elites, who might choose to accommodate certain Russian demands and try to maneuver. Since 2012, the Georgian Dream government has similarly tried to balance between Russia, the EU, and China. Segments of the Ukrainian elite might consider this a better way forward compared to continuing down the path of turning Ukraine into what the Roman Empire called foederati – so-called “barbarian” tribes and states bound by treaties to Rome to protect its borders against other “barbarian” tribes. Ukraine could become a foederatus of the European Union, protecting the borders of “civilization” against “Russian barbarians.”

It could also turn out to be a completely failed state, something like Syria or Libya, with parts of the territory controlled by the government in Kyiv, but other parts controlled by occupying powers (and this wouldn’t necessarily be just Russia), but also non-governmental formations. In Syria, this was ISIS. In Ukraine, it could be radical nationalists who are growing stronger and more autonomous. In the case of state failure, formations around the so-called “Azov movement” might start serving quasi-state functions for the local population in terms of security and organizing the basics of human life. That would also be a disaster scenario.

But in fact, Ukraine is now in a state of catastrophe, and basically all the most probable visions are pretty bleak.

BT: And what way is there to try and address this bleakness?

VI: What’s important to understand is that the possibility of a better future is now decided on a global level. It’s not decided within Ukraine. Unfortunately, Ukraine is no longer a sovereign country, and what happens there depends much more on what’s going on in Russia, Europe, or the US. The possibility of a better future is something we’ll have to develop globally and internationally.

It will depend on the capacity of European left-wing movements to offer a very different agenda for European countries – one that is anti-militarist and socially expansive. The connection between ongoing rearmament and further austerity in Europe is pretty obvious, clearly linked to the administrations of Merz, Macron, and other centrist governments.

Whether the European left will be capable of offering an alternative is also a big question, but there have been certain shifts in that direction. There have been important rallies in Paris, London, and Brussels. We still need to see where this is heading, but the outcomes of austerity and armament policies could also produce stronger resistance. A chunk of this resistance could be snatched by the far-right – but it’s a crucial opportunity which the left should not just give up to the far-right.

Developments in Russia – whether Putin’s regime will become more stable and powerful or not – as well as developments in China, will also play a role. China might be opening a different vision of the world amid the disintegration of US hegemony. But the question remains: what is next? What kind of order might be offered, and by which state?

We need to think about Ukraine in this global and long-term perspective, and consider the possibilities of organizing a better future for all of humanity, including Ukraine. Right now, basically, Ukraine is not a place of hope. It’s a place that shows how catastrophic the outcomes of the ongoing crisis can be. It’s a kind of magnifying glass for the world: it shows the most extreme futures that may wait for other parts of the world if we do not find a better alternative.

By Uriel Araujo, InfoBrics, 8/28/26

As the BRICS summit approaches in New Delhi [this] month, the bloc is moving steadily beyond rhetoric on financial cooperation. According to Sanjay Malhotra, the Governor of the Reserve Bank of India, member countries are discussing ways to link their instant payment systems and central bank digital currencies, or CBDCs, to make cross-border transactions faster and cheaper.

The idea sits among several options under debate and remains at an early stage, yet it points to a practical effort to reduce reliance on traditional channels dominated by the US dollar and Western infrastructure.

BRICS has long talked about greater use of national currencies in trade. What is different now is the focus on concrete technical links. Brazil’s Pix, India’s Unified Payments Interface, and similar systems in other members already process enormous volumes domestically. Connecting them could facilitate cross-border payments in local currencies while reducing the need for multiple intermediaries and potentially lowering transaction costs.

CBDCs offer another route, potentially enabling faster and more direct cross-border settlement between participating financial institutions and central banks. As a matter of fact, India has already built cross-border payment ties with the UAE and is exploring similar arrangements with other partners.

Iran has added its own proposal to the mix: Central Bank Governor Abdolnasser Hemmati called for a dedicated BRICS “financial corridor” and the integration of national payment networks. He argued that linking these systems and expanding the use of national currencies would cut reliance on external financial channels, raise transaction speed, lower costs, and improve security for trade among members. Iran has already begun examining the technical, legal, and operational aspects and stands ready to help draft a roadmap.

Washington is watching closely. US officials for one thing have flagged the Brazilian Pix as a concern, citing it in trade disputes and arguing that it disadvantages American payment providers.

Brazil’s Pix, launched in 2020, has become one of the world’s most successful instant-payment platforms, used by roughly 80% of the population and accounting for more than half of all payment transactions in Brazil. Moreover, the Brazilian Central Bank has signed cooperation agreements with dozens of countries interested in replicating the model.

Unsurprisingly, the success of a public, low-cost system draws attention – when Western private card networks have long dominated international payments.

The broader context to these developments includes the growing weight of the Global South in the world economy and the search for alternatives to a system that has proven vulnerable to sanctions and political pressure.

As I’ve recently noted, US record debt levels have now surpassed $40 trillion. Combined with the use of dollar-centered financial infrastructure as a tool of economic sanctions, this creates additional incentives for other countries to develop parallel payment and settlement arrangements – a dynamic that can also be understood in the context of the so-called Triffin Dilemma.

The broader “BRICS Pay” concept, aimed at facilitating interoperability among national payment systems, fits into this pattern. It aims to facilitate direct cross-border settlement without necessarily relying on the dollar as an intermediary currency or on Western-dominated financial messaging infrastructure such as SWIFT – a system notoriously vulnerable to weaponizable or geopolitically-motivated sanctions.

On that point, it suffices to highlight, for one thing, how a number of major Russian banks have been barred from using SWIFT, over the its campaign in Ukraine, whereas Israeli institutions have not – despite UN reports on genocide amid Israel’s operations in Gaza.

In any case, the effort is pragmatic rather than “revolutionary” or anti-Western. India, which holds the BRICS presidency this year, has framed the discussion around cost reduction and efficiency rather than open confrontation with the dollar system.

The summit is reportedly more likely to advance payment linkages than to declare a full-scale de-dollarization campaign. Be that as it may, even incremental steps matter. Linking systems that already work at scale can gradually shift trade patterns, especially among members that account for a substantial share of global GDP (measured by purchasing power parity).

Thus far the discussions have stayed largely technical. Options include bridges between fast payment networks and interoperability among CBDCs. No common infrastructure has been approved, and timelines remain open. Yet the direction is clear enough. Countries that once accepted the costs and delays of dollar-mediated trade are exploring routes that would keep more of the process under their own control.

In doing so, they can strengthen monetary sovereignty without needing to come up with a single BRICS currency overnight.

Assessments from within the bloc note that dependence on external systems carries risks. Sanctions, restricted access, and rising transaction costs have certainly pushed members to look inward for solutions.

These shifts suggest that the current international financial architecture is not the only workable option for emerging economies

Underreported in much of the Western press is just how quickly practical cooperation is advancing on the ground – from bilateral payment links to multilateral proposals like Iran’s financial corridor idea.

The September [12th – 13th] summit in New Delhi will therefore test how far these talks can move from discussion to further commitments. Finance ministers and central bank governors are expected to refine proposals beforehand.

Whether the outcome is a formal BRICS Pay framework or a series of bilateral and plurilateral connections, the underlying trend continues. In the context of an expanding BRICS+ grouping, member nations are building the tools to settle more of their trade on their own terms. In a world where financial infrastructure doubles as geopolitical leverage, that is a significant development, with implications that are only beginning to unfold.

Substack, 8/17/26

Professor Geoffrey Roberts, one of Britain’s leading historians of Soviet and Russian history, recently took part in an academic conference on Russophobia held as part of the annual cultural festival in Pskov, Russia.

The discussions there, and our subsequent conversation, offer a clear-eyed look at a phenomenon – Russophobia – that has intensified dramatically since 2022.

One striking difference emerged immediately between western and Russian participants at the conference.

Russian participants tended to view Russophobia as a deep-rooted cultural feature of the West, particularly Britain, stretching back two centuries to Russia’s emergence as a great power after the Napoleonic Wars.

Western speakers, including Roberts, saw it as far more contingent and episodic — a political instrument that surfaces when it serves a purpose and can recede just as quickly.

Roberts argues that today’s Russophobia is primarily an elite phenomenon.

It thrives in the Westminster bubble, among sections of the media, the intelligence services, the defence industry and the chattering classes.

Ordinary people are often more open-minded. Taxi drivers still express genuine curiosity about life in Moscow rather than reflexive hostility. Public opinion has proved remarkably resistant to years of daily propaganda; the extreme narrative has failed to mobilise a durable popular majority for confrontation.

Within the elite itself there are different strands: a large “herd” that follows the prevailing narrative for career reasons; those with financial or institutional interests in keeping the confrontation alive; and a smaller group of true believers.

The late Lord Robert Skidelsky, whose writings on Russophobia formed the basis of Roberts’ own paper in Pskov, described it as a ready-made repertoire of stereotypes and attitudes that can be activated when political circumstances demand.

Its current intensity is instrumental — it helps mobilise support for Ukraine and for the West’s proxy war against Russia.

History suggests such episodes can reverse rapidly.

Britain and Russia fought as allies in both world wars.

The anti-Soviet version of Russophobia collapsed with surprising speed under Gorbachev.

Roberts remains cautiously optimistic that a negotiated end to the war in Ukraine would undermine the extreme forms of Russophobia and open space for more pragmatic voices. Without an end to the fighting, however, the instrumental value of the narrative remains high.

The conversation also touched on deeper strategic realities.

You cannot fight a war by committee.

Russia’s more centralised decision-making and industrial capacity have allowed it to adapt and sustain the conflict, while Western policymakers continue to underestimate Russian resilience and overestimate the prospects of Ukrainian victory or regime collapse in Moscow.

The result is a prolonged, self-defeating policy that has already cost Ukraine dearly and eroded the legitimacy of European governments at home.

Roberts’ message is ultimately a hopeful one. Most people in any country want peace. Ending the war would not only stop the bloodshed; it would also deprive Russophobia of its most powerful current fuel and create the conditions for a more rational relationship between Russia and the West.

In the meantime, moderate, evidence-based voices remain essential.

You can watch the full conversation here:

YouTube link here.

The Leipzig Incident Has All The Hallmarks Of A False Flag

By Andrew Korybko, Substack, 9/1/26

It was carried out to justify the German economy’s evolution to war footing, distract from the resultant problems, and legitimize a future serious escalation against Russia.

Germany blamed Russia for last month’s incident in Leipzig when one explosives-laden drone was found on the tarmac in proximity to Ukrainian cargo planes, another reportedly collided with a separate cargo plane as it tried to land but failed to explode, and a third was later found close to the premises. Putin condemned their claim, shared his opinion that it was a false flag due to them planting evidence, and speculated that the motive was to distract from domestic problems by fearmongering about Russia.

While skeptics might roll their eyes, the Leipzig incident has all the hallmarks of a false flag. For starters, Germany is implying cartoonish incompetence on the part of Russia. The public is supposed to believe that the most skilled drone operators in the world, who were tasked with what would have been the most sensational Hybrid War attack on NATO ever, left a drone on the tarmac, got unlucky when another failed to explode after it hit a landing cargo plane, and left another nearby. That’s difficult to believe.

The second point to make in support of Putin’s hypothesis is that something similar happened last fall when unknown drones forced major airports in Scandinavia to temporarily ground all flights. Zelensky predictably blamed Russia and called for closing the Danish Straits to its shipping. As with the Leipzig incident, no evidence was ever shared in support of that claim, but it served as the precedent to blame Russia for mysterious drone-related incidents in Europe in order to justify more escalations against it.

And finally, while Zelensky’s proposed escalation ultimately never came to fruition (most likely to avoid a hot NATO-Russian war), an escalation of some sort might follow the Leipzig incident. It was argued here in late August that NATO would expect to gain more from a serious escalation with Russia than the inverse, which could take the form of resuming summer’s failed drone campaign against Russia at scale indefinitely in pursuit of its deindustrialization and demilitarization. That might be attempted next year.

Observers should remember that Germany, which is now Ukraine’s second-most-important military patron behind the US, reached a deal in the spring to develop Ukraine’s deep-strike capabilities. Its economy is also getting on war footing as Germany rapidly remilitarizes in furtherance of its goal to command Europe’s largest army ahead of the EU’s prediction of a possible war with Russia around 2030. This has proven unpopular with voters, however, ergo the need to justify it through the Leipzig incident.

To recap the explanation of Putin’s false flag hypothesis, last fall’s Russian drone scare in Scandinavia served as the pretext for blaming the Kremlin for future such incidents without evidence, which Germany has now done with the Leipzig one. The narrative of Russian drone operators’ incompetence is difficult to believe, however, but it’s still being pushed to justify the Germany economy’s evolution to war footing, distract from the resultant problems, and legitimize a future serious escalation against Russia.

As was written, this could take the form of resuming summer’s failed drone campaign against Russia at scale indefinitely in pursuit of its deindustrialization and demilitarization, but that risks crossing Russia’s nuclear threshold per its updated doctrine. At the very least, Putin would once again mildly “escalate to de-escalate” against Ukraine, but there’s always a chance that everything spirals out of control. It would therefore be best for Germany to eschew escalation just like the Scandinavian states ultimately did.

***

In an interview with Hsan Ünal, Prof. Geoffrey Roberts (approx. 42 minute mark) speculates that Trump sent CIA Director John Ratcliffe to Moscow to provide Putin with super-sensitive info about a possible assassination attempt and to assure him that this had nothing to do with the United States. Interesting theory – haven’t heard it anywhere else. Tell me what you think of this theory in the comments.

YouTube link here.

By Fred Weir, Christian Science Monitor, 8/13/26

For more than a century, Kazakhstan was ruled from Moscow – first under the Russian Empire and later the Soviet Union.

Even decades after independence, it still hardly ever challenges its powerful northern neighbor.

Until now.

At a regional cooperation forum last month, Kazakhstan President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev appealed directly to Russian President Vladimir Putin to end Russia’s 4 1/2-year war with Ukraine. Appearing to depart from scripted public remarks, he declared that the reasons for the war “are not clear to many, including us.”

He went on to suggest that “perhaps it’s time to freeze this conflict.”

While Mr. Putin looked visibly annoyed and dismissed the idea, the rare public dissent illustrated a changing balance between Russia and post-Soviet Central Asia. Once dismissed as periphery states by Russia, they are gaining more of a say, based on geopolitical and economic realignment.

Kazakhstan, the largest landlocked country in the world, might feel empowered enough to speak plainly to Mr. Putin because of Russia’s deepening economic dependence on Central Asia. The costs of the war are also threatening its own oil exports. Kazakhstan’s main oil terminal on the Black Sea – which is at the Russian port of Novorossiysk, some 540 miles from Kazakhstan’s border – has had to close several times because of Ukrainian drone strikes on tankers, though Ukraine has now reportedly agreed to stop targeting non-Russian tankers. Oil exports make up about 35% of Kazakhstan’s gross domestic product.

“Kazakhstan is feeling the costs of this ongoing war, and that’s likely the main reason he spoke out now,” says Grigory Mikhailov, a Central Asia specialist who edits a newsletter on the region’s economy. “We don’t know the extent of the damages, but it’s likely to be hundreds of millions of dollars already.”

The moon rises over D Island, a man-made offshore oil-processing hub in the Caspian Sea off the southern coast of Kazakhstan, Aug. 21, 2013. Oil exports make up 35% of Kazakhstan’s gross domestic product.

It illustrates the growing complexities affecting Moscow’s relations with some of its closest partners, especially Kazakhstan, the largest and richest of the five former Soviet republics of Central Asia.

The mainly Muslim and largely Turkic-speaking region was part of the Russian Empire and the U.S.S.R. until the Soviet collapse in 1991, but since independence also looks toward China and the West. While some of the new states have partially reduced their former dependence on Russia, Kazakhstan remains a core member of all three key Russia-led alliances created to keep former Soviet republics in Moscow’s orbit.

Almost all of the nine countries that now form one of them, the Commonwealth of Independent States, oppose Russia’s war with Ukraine. Only Belarus has backed the conflict. Some, such as Armenia and Moldova, have even expressed support for Ukraine.

Most, however, have tried to maintain a delicate balancing act by declaring neutrality, while also enforcing some Western-imposed sanctions against Russia, and continuing warm political and profitable economic relations with Moscow. Kazakhstan has played a key role helping Russia sidestep sanctions and channel investments from abroad.

Mr. Tokayev’s departure from protocol was limited, and he subsequently stressed his allegiance to Moscow. But Andrei Suzdalstev, an independent Moscow-based political expert, suggests that the Kazakh leader was probably speaking for many in the region.

“No CIS member has shown any enthusiasm for the war,” he says. “It’s clear that Tokayev is not alone. The same questions are being raised, quietly, in other places.”

Experts describe Kazakhstan and Russia as economically “interdependent,” sharing infrastructure, mutual investment, and a huge trade turnover of $28 billion. The two countries share the world’s second-longest land border – almost 5,000 miles – and travel between them is visa-free. Opinion polls show majorities in both countries have a positive attitude toward the other, though feelings for Russia have noticeably cooled in Kazakhstan. In a 2023 poll by MediaNet and PaperLab, nearly one-third of Kazakhs said their perception of Russia has worsened because of the war.

In recent years, China has become Kazakhstan’s top trading partner, mainly due to sales of oil and raw materials, but Russia remains the country’s top security and political partner.

“I do not see any large-scale competition between Russia and China in Kazakhstan,” says Alexander Knyazev, an expert at the MGIMO University Institute for International Studies in Moscow, which trains Russian diplomats. “Moscow and Beijing are capable of maintaining their interests at a mutually acceptable level.”

Petr Svoik, former deputy chair of the Kazakh opposition Azat party, says that at least for the time being, the Russian-Kazakh relationship will remain stable. “No matter how you look at it, Kazakhstan depends crucially on Russia. The relationship is tight, and functions on the level of strategic partnership. … But as for the ruling elite, their hearts lie mainly in the West. They understand the necessity of good relations with Russia, but materially and mentally they are pro-Western.”

The war in Ukraine and sanctions against Russia have increased Kazakhstan’s importance as a provider of oil and other raw materials to Europe, a position that the war’s expansion to ports on the Black Sea is now threatening.

Other wars, in Afghanistan and now Iran, have stymied the hopes of Central Asian countries to build southward transport routes that would expand their trading opportunities to the Indian Ocean and beyond. That strengthens their continued dependence on both Russia and China, experts say.

So, while Kazakhstan and others might be emboldened, they are also maintaining traditional links and trying to avoid the fallout of war.

“In the view of Central Asian elites, the world is going crazy,” says Mr. Mikhailov. “In this situation, the minimum task is to stay out of the geopolitical storm. The maximum is to balance interests, extract benefits where possible, and to stay strong until things normalize.”