
Anti-migration rhetoric has gripped public discourse on both sides of the Atlantic. In the U.S., it has been a trump card in Donald Trump’s bid to reclaim the White House, while in the EU, the same issue has been dominating electoral campaigns at all levels—fueling the rise of far-right parties. In Russia, the migration debate is no less heated, ranking among the most sensitive topics in public discussion. However, the nature of Russia’s anti-migrant rhetoric and the actual role of migrants in the country do not always align with the trends shaping migration policies in the EU and the U.S.
The demographic challenges that followed the Cold War
The very structure of the Russian Federation—the largest country in the world by landmass—naturally implies an extremely diverse population in terms of ethnicity and religion. Not just today, but throughout Russia’s history, the coexistence of different cultures and ethnic groups has been one of the most sensitive issues in society.
Following the collapse of the Soviet Union, demographic challenges became an acute problem for Russia. Several negative factors emerged simultaneously: declining birth rates, rising mortality, the deterioration of healthcare and social security systems, a general decline in living standards, and increasing emigration to Europe, the U.S., and Israel. As a result of these economic and social pressures, Russia experienced a sharp population decline throughout the 1990s and early 2000s.
However, even during those years, there were significant migration inflows, both of Russian-speaking populations from post-Soviet states such as Kazakhstan and the Baltic countries, and of ethnic groups from the Caucasus region. The inflow increased by the mid-2000s, as economic conditions and living standards in Russia increased.
Support for motherhood, improved living standards, and better control over migration flows led to a rise in Russia’s population, reaching a local peak just before the COVID-19 pandemic.
The pandemic had a significant negative impact, with estimates suggesting that COVID-19 contributed to an additional 600,000 to 1 million deaths in Russia, far exceeding the average mortality rate.
Today, Russia’s demographic challenges have created a new reality for its labor market. For the Russian economy, migration has become the only way for an aging nation to maintain its competitiveness.
Leading Russian demographers indicate that Russia is currently experiencing one of the worst periods in its demographic history: extremely low birth rates, despite rising life expectancy, and a complex family situation, with high marriage rates typical of Eastern countries and divorce rates akin to those in the West. In other words, Russians marry like Asians but divorce like Europeans.
At the same time, statistics show a continuing decline in the number of children. Meanwhile, mortality rates continue to exceed birth rates, making natural population growth negative in Russia without considering migration. Therefore, in order to maintain, if not develop, its economy, Russia is highly dependent on migration inflows.
The war in Ukraine is leading to a major demographic crisis that could be mitigated only by migration
The war in Ukraine meant a large number of dead and wounded, a mobilization (voluntary or forced) of young people for the front, with the associated risks, and an exodus of young people fleeing recruitment. This crisis is hitting Russia at the worst possible time, striking at the most vital demographic group for the country’s future.
Young men of reproductive age—those who have either fled to avoid being drafted into the Russian army or have already been killed in combat—represent a looming demographic catastrophe. Their absence will create significant population gaps in the years and decades to come. Some demographers argue that the long-term demographic impact of the war in Ukraine, given Russia’s population structure, could be comparable in scale to the devastating consequences of the Civil War or the World Wars of the early 20th century.
Against this grim demographic reality, Russia’s reliance on migrants is only intensifying. The demand for migrant labor is not just persistent—it is growing. Migrants are already essential to filling labor shortages in existing industries, but as sanctions drive Russia’s economy into a phase of technological degradation, the demand for manual labor will only increase. Historically, Russian economy has always depended on migrant workers, and now, more than ever, their role in sustaining Russia’s workforce is becoming critical.
It is also worth noting that the competition for migrant labor in Russia now extends beyond the civilian job market. The Russian Ministry of Defense has joined this race, offering a fast-track to citizenship for those willing to enlist in the military immediately upon obtaining their Russian passport. This move reflects not only the growing labor shortages but also the military’s urgent need for new recruits amid the ongoing war.
Today, the primary migration flow into Russia comes from Central Asian countries, particularly Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, and their neighbors. In the past, Russia attracted large numbers of workers from other post-Soviet states, including Ukraine, Belarus, Moldova, Georgia, and Armenia. However, the Russian labor market is no longer as appealing to migrants from these countries as it was in the 1990s. The wage gap between Russia and these nations has narrowed, and the logistical and bureaucratic difficulties of relocation have become more significant barriers.
For now, demographic trends in Central Asia continue to make Russia an attractive destination for many migrants from the region. Meanwhile, within Russia itself, the labor force is shrinking due to natural demographic decline. The aging population is expanding, while the number of young workers entering the workforce continues to fall.
The changing structure of Russia’s population is fundamentally reshaping attitudes toward work and career choices. For local workers, high-paying professions have become the preferred path, while labor-intensive, lower-wage jobs are increasingly left to migrants. Today, migrant workers dominate key sectors of the Russian labor market, including construction, housing and utilities, logistics, and transportation.
At the same time, over the three decades since the collapse of the Soviet Union, the cultural, religious, and national identities of the post-Soviet states that now supply Russia’s labor force have undergone a significant transformation. The remnants of Soviet-era mentality are fading, replaced by a complex mosaic of religious and national identities that have developed during these countries’ independent histories. Each Central Asian nation has built its identity differently—some emphasizing religious foundations, others nationalism, and some combining both. As a result, the composition of migrant labor in Russia today is markedly different from that of the 1990s, when the first post-Soviet migration wave began.
Meanwhile, ethnic and religious tensions between local Russian communities and Central Asian migrants are escalating. The rise of radical Islamist movements in Russia has led to an increasing number of terrorist threats—some materializing in hostage situations, targeted killings, and other violent attacks. The uncontrolled spread of weapons and ammunition due to the war in Ukraine has only heightened these risks.
Russia needs migrants, but that will not stop the populist anti-migration rhetoric
Despite growing tensions, migration remains the only viable means to sustain Russia’s labor market. It serves as a crucial mechanism for balancing workforce shortages. Yet, even before the full-scale war in Ukraine, demographic forecasts by Russian statisticians projected continued population decline, even in the most optimistic migration scenarios. Today, with worsening demographic trends and an aging workforce, migration is no longer just a labor issue—it is an existential necessity for Russia’s economic stability.
Since demographic forecasts were made before the full-scale war in Ukraine, it is now certain that Russia will not follow a scenario of population growth. Instead, the country is set to face severe demographic challenges as a direct consequence of the conflict.
At the same time, Russia’s dependence on migrant labor will only increase. The structure of the Russian economy—potentially shifting toward older, labor-intensive technologies—will further drive demand for a migrant workforce. However, sanctions and the overall economic downturn may make Russia a far less attractive destination for migrants, even from Central Asia, where migration to Russia has remained strong.
Russia now risks losing the competition for migrant labor. The country’s primary sources of migration have dwindled, with only three countries—Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, and Kyrgyzstan—serving as major reserves. Beyond these, there are few viable alternatives, except perhaps Africa. Yet, previous attempts to attract workers from African nations and Southeast Asia have so far failed to yield significant results.
Russia’s migration challenges must be understood in the context of their long-term impact on the country’s economy and society. The war in Ukraine will eventually end, but the demographic crisis and the political sensitivity of migration will remain.
Ironically, migration—seen as a solution to labor shortages and demographic decline—is also becoming a political tool for populist rhetoric. Anti-migrant sentiment could easily become a central theme for political forces seeking to rally public support without the need for deeper ideological shifts. The fear of migration could serve as a convenient mechanism for power struggles in post-Putin Russia, potentially paving the way for new political actors. Given Russia’s historical tendencies, it is also possible that future anti-migrant rhetoric will be intertwined with revanchist sentiments, adding another layer of instability to the country’s political landscape.