Russia’s North Caucasus Embers — Low-Intensity Insurgency in a Centralised State

Monday 23 February 2026

The Russian Federation presents herself as a hyper-centralised state — fiscally, militarily and politically consolidated around the Kremlin. Yet in her southern flank, along the serrated ridgelines and crowded valleys of the North Caucasus, embers of insurgency continue to glow. They do not blaze as they once did in the 1990s and early 2000s. They do not command global headlines. But they persist — sporadic attacks on police, quiet assassinations, radical networks broken and reconstituted, a sullen tension between centre and periphery.

The North Caucasus has always resisted simple integration into Moscow’s administrative imagination. The region — comprising republics such as Chechnya, Dagestan, Ingushetia and Kabardino-Balkaria — is ethnically fragmented, religiously devout and historically suspicious of imperial authority. The collapse of the Soviet Union exposed that fragility. In Chechnya it led to two brutal wars; in neighbouring republics it gave rise to Islamist insurgencies that morphed from nationalist struggles into components of a transnational jihadist movement.

The high-intensity phase of conflict — most notably the First and Second Chechen Wars — culminated in Moscow’s reassertion of control. Vladimir Putin built much of his early legitimacy upon the promise to crush separatism. Grozny was reduced to rubble and then rebuilt as a showcase of restored order. But order in the North Caucasus has never meant reconciliation. It has meant management.

The contemporary model rests upon a bargain. Moscow supplies substantial fiscal transfers. In return, local strongmen guarantee stability. Nowhere is this clearer than in Chechnya under Ramzan Kadyrov. His rule is personalised, security-heavy and infused with religious symbolism. Militias loyal to him operate with considerable autonomy. Public displays of loyalty to the Kremlin are theatrical and constant. In exchange, the insurgency has been suppressed to a level that permits the projection of normalcy — shopping centres, weddings, social media influencers.

Yet the embers remain.

Dagestan presents a more complex mosaic. With dozens of ethnic groups and no single dominant identity, her insurgent activity has historically been more decentralised. The ideological shift from Chechen nationalism to a broader Caucasus Emirate project in the mid-2000s illustrated the evolution of grievance — from independence to theocratic governance. Although the operational capacity of such movements has diminished, recruitment pipelines have not entirely dried up. Economic stagnation, corruption and the heavy-handed behaviour of security services provide a continuous substrate for radicalisation.

Low-intensity insurgency in the North Caucasus today rarely resembles the large-scale coordinated assaults of two decades ago. Instead it manifests in:

• Targeted attacks on police officers or local officials

• Small improvised explosive devices against administrative buildings

• Online radical networks fostering ideological sympathy

• Occasional returns of fighters from Middle Eastern theatres

These incidents are quickly contained and often underreported. The Kremlin’s information discipline ensures that instability does not contaminate the broader narrative of wartime resilience — especially during Russia’s protracted war against Ukraine.

That war, however, complicates the equation.

The North Caucasus has supplied a disproportionate share of manpower to the Russian armed forces. Economic incentives, coercive recruitment and the political influence of regional leaders have funnelled men into frontline units. Casualty rates amongst these contingents have been notable. While public dissent is tightly controlled, the long-term sociological consequences of sustained losses are uncertain. Communities that feel economically marginalised yet heavily burdened by military sacrifice may not indefinitely accept the transactional nature of Moscow’s governance.

Moreover, the redeployment of experienced security personnel to Ukraine risks thinning domestic counter-insurgency capabilities. Russia’s security architecture — notably the Federal Security Service and the National Guard — remains formidable. But counter-insurgency relies not merely on force but on constant presence. A centralised state engaged in large-scale external war must balance resources between the periphery and the front line.

There is also an ideological dimension. The Kremlin has framed her war in Ukraine in civilisational terms — defending traditional values against Western encroachment. In the North Caucasus, Islamic identity already provides an alternative moral vocabulary. So far regional elites have harmonised these narratives by emphasising shared conservatism and loyalty to Moscow. Yet ideological alignment born of expedience can fracture under stress.

It is important to avoid exaggeration. The North Caucasus is not on the brink of renewed large-scale rebellion. Infrastructure has improved. Younger generations have grown up in an environment of relative stability. The brutal lessons of the Chechen wars have left deep scars. Many families prefer imperfect order to the chaos of open conflict.

But low-intensity insurgency is less about imminent revolution than about chronic friction. It signals that coercion has not resolved underlying tensions. It reveals that federal integration remains contingent — reliant on patronage networks and personal loyalties rather than institutional legitimacy.

For a highly centralised state, such embers pose a paradox. Moscow’s system depends upon vertical control, yet effective pacification in the Caucasus requires local autonomy vested in powerful intermediaries. The stronger the centre becomes, the more it must tolerate semi-feudal enclaves to maintain calm. This is not federalism in a constitutional sense; it is negotiated sovereignty.

The strategic implications extend beyond the mountains. A Russia absorbed by external war and international isolation must guard against internal fatigue. Should economic pressures intensify — sanctions, demographic decline, fiscal strain — the subsidies underpinning the North Caucasus bargain could diminish. Patronage without resources becomes brittle.

In this regard the North Caucasus functions as a barometer. When Moscow is strong, subsidies flow and insurgency retreats into shadows. When Moscow is distracted or weakened, grievances acquire oxygen. The embers brighten.

Russia’s leadership understands this history intimately. The experience of the 1990s remains formative. That is why the response to even minor security incidents in the region is swift and disproportionate. Preventive repression is cheaper than renewed war.

Yet repression is not the same as resolution.

The North Caucasus today is neither pacified in a liberal sense nor actively rebellious in a revolutionary one. She exists in a managed twilight — stable enough for tourism campaigns, unstable enough for periodic security operations. In a centralised state that prizes uniformity, this ambiguity is both a success and a warning.

The embers do not currently threaten to ignite a conflagration. But neither are they extinguished.