Russia as a Chinese vassal and Putin's pivot to Modi

The longer the war in Ukraine persists, the more Russia finds herself entangled in a geopolitical paradox of her own making. What began in February 2022 as a bid to assert domination over a neighbouring state has, over successive years of attrition, isolation and economic contraction, left the Kremlin increasingly dependent upon a single power: China. This dependency, once a tactical alignment to resist western sanctions, is now shading towards something deeper and more enduring. It risks becoming structural. As the conflict drags into almost its fifth year, the central question is no longer whether Russia can prevail militarily in Ukraine, but whether she can retain strategic autonomy in a world where her principal partner is so vastly more powerful.

In this context one must understand President Putin’s recent journey to Delhi. It was not a triumphal tour but a defensive manoeuvre, a bid to broaden Russia’s diplomatic and economic options before they close irreversibly. India, long wary of China and historically balanced between Moscow and western capitals, now occupies a pivotal role in Russia’s search for an alternative trajectory that does not end in full dependence upon Beijing.

To trace the logic of this evolution, one must begin with the war itself and the grinding effects it has had upon Russia’s economic and strategic posture. Sanctions have not collapsed the Russian economy, but they have redirected it. Europe, once the principal buyer of Russian hydrocarbons and the destination of huge volumes of Russian manufactured goods, has largely substituted away from Russian energy and is actively dismantling the pipelines and trade patterns that once tied the two economies together. Russia has therefore found herself with a limited range of large-scale buyers for her key commodities. China is first amongst them. The effect is unmistakable: when a country has only one viable market for the goods that underpin her balance of payments, she loses bargaining power.

This narrowing of economic opportunity is compounded by the escalating material demands of the war. Russia must import dual-use goods, electronics, and machinery to sustain her war effort and the civilian economy. China provides these inputs at scale, and frequently at prices or terms that reflect China’s leverage. Russia accepts them because she must, and Beijing understands this perfectly. The longer the war continues, the more asymmetric the relationship becomes.

Moreover the Kremlin has driven itself into a fiscal dependence upon Chinese currency and Chinese financial structures. The de-dollarisation strategy proclaimed by Moscow is, in reality, a yuan-isation: Russian reserves, trade settlements and lending arrangements are increasingly renominated in China’s currency. Such a shift reduces Russia’s exposure to western sanctions but simultaneously deepens her exposure to Beijing’s monetary power. This is the financial hallmark of a vassal relationship: autonomy becomes theoretical, while practical sovereignty is exercised by the creditor. A prolonged war accelerates this shift, because Russia cannot afford to seek capital in any market other than those controlled or influenced by China.

Political dependency follows economic dependency. Beijing’s diplomatic support at the United Nations and in wider global fora has spared Moscow from deeper isolation, but the service is not cost-free. China extracts concessions not by demanding them openly but by shaping Russia’s available choices. A Russia that has nowhere else to turn is a Russia that cannot meaningfully resist Chinese preferences, whether in Central Asia, the Arctic, or the global energy markets that determine both states’ export revenues.

It is precisely this creeping subordination that Putin’s trip to Delhi aimed to arrest. India occupies a unique position: she is the world’s largest democracy; she is a historical customer of Russian arms; she seeks to maintain strategic autonomy and is therefore suspicious of both Chinese expansionism and western overreach. For decades Delhi cultivated a balanced relationship with Moscow because Russian equipment formed the backbone of India’s air force and armoured corps. Although India is diversifying her defence purchases, the relationship retains practical depth. The Kremlin hopes to lean upon these foundations to create a counterweight to China.

The visit to Delhi has served three purposes. First, Russia has sought to reassure India that Moscow will remain a reliable defence partner despite the pressure of the Ukrainian war. India’s concern is straightforward: a Russia over-dependent upon China cannot be trusted to remain neutral in the Sino-Indian strategic rivalry. Putin’s message was intended to dispel that fear; whether it succeeds is another question entirely given Moscow's strategic vulnerability.

Secondly, Russia has aimed to develop non-Chinese markets for her energy exports. India has become a major purchaser of Russian oil at discounted prices. Expanding this trade might allow Russia to diversify away from overwhelming reliance upon China, even if only marginally. India, with her vast and growing demand for energy, is one of the few states able to absorb the volumes that Europe once consumed.

Thirdly, and most importantly, the visit was a signal to Beijing. It implied that the Kremlin is not content to drift into China’s orbit and is willing to court China’s regional adversary to restore a measure of equilibrium. The symbolism will not be lost upon Chinese policymakers, who are acutely sensitive to signs that Russia might seek a more independent course. Yet symbolism alone cannot reverse structural dependency, and China will know this.

For India, the situation is equally nuanced. Delhi sees advantage in maintaining a diversified array of great-power relationships. A Russia that has options is a Russia that remains useful to India, particularly in managing China’s strategic behaviour. Yet India does not intend to rescue Russia from the consequences of her own war. Delhi welcomes discounted oil; she appreciates diplomatic engagement; but she will not jeopardise her own interests simply to assist Moscow in avoiding subordination to Beijing.

Therefore the outcome of the visit may be more psychological than material. We are told that agreements are being signed but they are unlikely to realign geopolitical balance. It reflects Russia’s anxiety about her future alignment and her recognition that the war, if prolonged indefinitely, leaves her little alternative but to accept China’s terms. Russia remains a vast country with significant resources, but power is relative. China’s economy is more than ten times the size of Russia’s; her technological capabilities far exceed Russia’s; and her global influence grows as Russia’s contracts. A war that drains Russia’s industrial base and consumes her manpower only accelerates this disparity.

In this sense the war in Ukraine is not only determining the fate of a sovereign European state. It is also redefining the hierarchy of Eurasia. Every month that Kyiv continues to resist, every tranche of western assistance that sustains Ukraine’s lines, pushes Russia deeper into reliance upon China. And with each turn of that ratchet, the scope for Russia to act as an independent pole in global affairs diminishes.

Putin’s visit to Delhi was an attempt, perhaps a belated one, to stabilise Russia’s geopolitical footing before the imbalance becomes irreversible. But diplomacy cannot undo the structural consequences of a war that Russia chose and persists in prosecuting. So long as that war continues, the gravitational pull of China will only strengthen.

Ultimately Russia may find that the true cost of the invasion of Ukraine is not measured in territory lost or gained, but in sovereignty surrendered. The tragedy is that this outcome was neither inevitable nor foreordained. It is the predictable consequence of a conflict that has now outgrown the Kremlin’s ability to control its strategic ramifications. The longer it lasts, the fewer choices Russia will have—and the more her future will be shaped not in Moscow but in Beijing.