Azerbaijan’s Defiance Show that Russia’s Grip over Its Neighbors Is Waning

Azerbaijan’s Defiance Show that Russia’s Grip over Its Neighbors Is Waning
© EPA/MAXIM SHIPENKOV   |   Russian President Vladimir Putin (R) and President of Azerbaijan Ilham Aliyev take part in an official welcoming ceremony for delegations' heads at the BRICS 2024 Summit in Kazan, Russia, 23 October 2024.

As Russia’s war in Ukraine drags on and its global isolation deepens, the Kremlin is facing a growing crisis closer to home: the erosion of its influence over neighboring states. From the Caucasus to Central Asia and the Baltics, former allies are distancing themselves from Moscow’s orbit, forging new partnerships, and openly challenging the assumptions that once underpinned Russia’s dominance. Nowhere is this shift more visible than in Azerbaijan—a once-pragmatic partner that has transformed into a symbol of post-Soviet defiance.

For much of the past two decades, Russian foreign policy has been driven by a single, deeply emotional imperative: restoration. What exactly is being restored depends on who you ask. For some, it is the lost grandeur of the Soviet Union; for others, it is a return to the imperial legacy of Tsarist Russia. Still others see it as a reimagined technological state—one where, unlike past attempts, modern tools can enable total control over society and revive the economic might of a centralized superpower.

This drive toward restoration has helped justify Russia’s increasingly militarized rhetoric and assertive behavior on the international stage. Domestically, it acts as compensation for the economic collapse of the 1990s, a response to geopolitical isolation, and a projection of national pride. But restoration requires power—soft or hard—and power must be sustained. Today, Russia finds itself in an uncomfortable bind: its ambitions outpace its capabilities, and the contradiction is most visible along its borders.

Rarely is this tension better illustrated than in the country’s relationship with Azerbaijan. Once a pragmatic, if occasionally testy, partner in Moscow’s near-abroad, Azerbaijan has become a model case of what happens when Russia’s influence fades—and when former allies stop playing by Kremlin rules.

Azerbaijan: From Ally to Adversary?

Relations between Moscow and Baku have recently hit their lowest point in decades. The immediate spark: the arrest of some 50 ethnic Azerbaijanis in Yekaterinburg on suspicion of serious crimes dating back two decades. Two suspects died in police custody, others bore visible signs of abuse, and the news quickly spiraled into a bilateral diplomatic crisis. Azerbaijan summoned the Russian ambassador, canceled cultural events, and launched retaliatory raids on journalists associated with the Russian state media outlet Sputnik.

Soon after, eight Russian nationals—some of them economic migrants and draft evaders—were arrested in Azerbaijan and publicly paraded as drug dealers. Russian state TV personalities began calling for economic retaliation, while Azerbaijani media described Vladimir Putin as a modern-day Stalin. Into this volatile mix stepped Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, who seized the opportunity to court Baku and pledged to “expand cooperation.”

But the fallout began even earlier. In December, a Russian missile defense unit shot down a civilian Azerbaijani airliner, killing 38. Moscow dragged its feet on the investigation. Baku closed the Russian cultural center in its capital. Now, a leaked recording seemingly implicates Russia in the downing of the plane, and Azerbaijan has opened a criminal case.

Moscow’s old geopolitical levers—military cooperation, energy transit, and cultural influence—no longer have the pull they once did. Azerbaijan has diversified its economy, built strategic ties with Turkey, and cultivated broader global relationships. It no longer sees Russia as its only patron or partner.

Wider Patterns: Moscow’s Crumbling Periphery

Azerbaijan’s case is not unique. It is a symptom of a broader trend in Russia’s neighborhood, where longstanding alliances are unraveling or being redefined under pressure from global realignments, economic pragmatism, and a generational shift in national priorities.

Georgia

Russia still maintains a degree of leverage in Georgia through its support for separatist regions like Abkhazia and South Ossetia, and through economic entanglements. Georgian oligarchs with business interests in Russia have lobbied for softer rhetoric toward Moscow and the ruling Georgian Dream has increasingly adopted typical Russian narratives, and an anti-Western rhetoric. However, society at large remains firmly pro-European, and growing impatience with stalled EU accession—especially on social and cultural grounds—is making Russian overtures less effective.

Armenia

Perhaps the most dramatic pivot has come from Armenia. Once a key Russian ally in the Caucasus, Armenia now openly courts the United States and the European Union. Following Russia’s failure to prevent Azerbaijan’s takeover of Nagorno-Karabakh in 2023—despite its peacekeeping presence—public trust in Moscow collapsed. Armenia still relies on Russian gas and has critical infrastructure managed by Russian firms, but politically, the country is drifting actively westward.

Kazakhstan

Kazakhstan remains formally allied with Russia through institutions like the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO) and the Eurasian Economic Union (EAEU), but President Tokayev is carefully hedging. He is deepening ties with China and Europe, welcoming Western investors, and using his country as a vital conduit for “parallel trade” that bypasses Western sanctions on Russia. Thousands of Russians fleeing military mobilization relocated to Kazakhstan—further complicating the dynamic.

Other Central Asian States

Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, and Turkmenistan have long served as labor sources for Russia, but the appeal is fading. Anti-migrant sentiment in Russia, falling remittances, and growing labor demand in South Korea, Turkey, and the Gulf are shifting migration patterns. Meanwhile, China is steadily replacing Russia as the dominant external power, investing in infrastructure, trade, and education. Russian cultural influence is weakening—young Central Asians increasingly speak English or Turkish, not Russian.

Europe’s Eastern Edge: From Buffer Zone to Battleground

The Baltic states—Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania—have firmly severed ties with Moscow. As EU and NATO members, they have transformed into active opponents of Russian policy, particularly after the 2022 invasion of Ukraine.

Belarus, in contrast, remains tightly tethered to Moscow. President Alexander Lukashenko’s political survival depends heavily on Russian support. In return, Minsk has aligned itself with the Kremlin on key issues, including Ukraine, and Belarusian economic dependence on Russia has only deepened. In 2021, over 50% of Belarus’s foreign trade occurred within the EAEU—most of it with Russia.

Ukraine, of course, is the epicenter of conflict. Russia’s refusal to accept Ukraine’s independence—geopolitically and culturally—has led to full-scale war. This is perhaps the most tragic and violent illustration of how Moscow’s vision of its sphere of influence is not just outdated, but deeply destabilizing.

Trade Without Trust: The Limits of the EAEU

The Eurasian Economic Union was supposed to formalize and deepen regional integration. While it remains functional on paper, its strategic significance is eroding. The share of intra-EAEU trade has remained largely stagnant since its inception—hovering around 14–15% for the bloc as a whole, with no clear upward trajectory.

Here’s the breakdown:

Russia: Intra-EAEU trade accounts for less than 9% of its total trade.

Belarus: Exceptionally high dependence—over 50% of trade is within the EAEU, mostly with Russia.

Armenia & Kyrgyzstan: Moderate reliance, around 35–40%, but increasingly looking elsewhere.

Kazakhstan: Around 26% of trade is with EAEU partners, but diversification efforts are growing.

The EAEU offers market access and customs benefits, but for many member states, it is no longer the only game in town. New partners—China, the EU, Gulf states—are competing for influence and doing so more effectively. Unlike the early 2000s, Russian membership now comes with costs: geopolitical risk, exposure to sanctions, and reputational damage.

What Is Russia Doing—and Why?

Why, then, does Russia continue to alienate its neighbors?

There are several competing—but not mutually exclusive—explanations:

Imperial Inertia: A deeply rooted belief in Russia’s right to dominate its neighborhood, regardless of cost.

Strategic Diversion: By fostering conflicts on its borders, the Kremlin creates a buffer zone that limits Western influence and suppresses internal dissent.

Declining Leverage: Moscow may simply be reacting to its waning influence, using coercion because it lacks the soft power it once wielded.

Controlled Chaos: Instability can be useful. It deters external investment, discourages political reform, and maintains the status quo.

In reality, these strategies are often applied in tandem. Russia’s foreign policy, especially toward the post-Soviet space, is less a grand design and more a patchwork of reactive moves—some based on ideology, others on expedience.

A New Map of Eurasian Power

What is clear is that Russia’s neighborhood is no longer a sandbox for Kremlin experimentation. These countries—once seen as junior partners or reluctant satellites—are increasingly assertive, diversified, and globally engaged. They are looking to Brussels, Beijing, Ankara, and Washington—not just Moscow.

This is not the end of Russia’s role in the region. But it is the end of Russia’s monopoly. And that shift is not just a challenge for the Kremlin—it is a challenge for the entire architecture of Eurasian diplomacy, trade, and security.

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