On June 25, 2024, the secretary-general of the Russia-led Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO), Imangali Tasmagambetov, said that he foresaw the organization’s future membership expanding. Without naming prospective new members, Tasmagambetov claimed the enlargement was precipitated by what he described as “growing tensions,” a “rapidly collapsing international security system,” and states’ desire for socio-political security. Interestingly, a few months earlier, Tasmagambetov had made similar predictions that peacekeeping activities would “be some sort of a driving engine for the organization’s expansion.”
Notwithstanding his depiction of the collapsing world order and the claim that polycentrism would replace it – which is language taken directly from the Russian foreign policy concept and frequently repeated, for propaganda purposes, by Russian officials – the CSTO head’s comments on the possible enlargement of the organization are puzzling given its rather gloomy outlook.
Indeed, rather than grow, Moscow’s military bloc is poised to shrink.
Less than two weeks before Tasmagambetov made his statement, Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan addressed parliament and said his country would leave the CSTO. This followed longstanding dissatisfaction on the part of Armenia over the perceived lack of adequate support for the country’s security during the renewed conflict over Nagorno-Karabakh with Azerbaijan and a feeling of betrayal by some of the other CSTO countries (namely Belarus) who allegedly supplied Azeris with weapons.
In February 2024, Pashinyan claimed to have frozen Armenia’s participation in CSTO.
CSTO officials like Tasmagambetov emphasize that the organization’s strengths stem from its flexible format. According to him, this format unites very different countries, independent sovereign nations that pursue multi-vector diplomacy and need to negotiate with each other to make decisions by consensus. The organization was, in his words, a “soft alliance.”
This organizational format was historically a necessary precondition for the CSTO to emerge. This was primarily due to the asymmetry of power and the internal dynamics in post-Soviet institutions, where fear of the intentions of the strongest state – Russia – made smaller states hesitate about seeking close association with it. They sought to incorporate safeguards, including power-sharing arrangements and side payments (subsidies and other material support) into treaties.
Ironically, however, the two decades of the CSTO’s existence highlight how these institutional preconditions and dynamics created limitations and internal contradictions in post-Soviet security integration. Notwithstanding a few exceptions – notably the January 2022 CSTO operation in Kazakhstan – the CSTO has been a constrained and inefficient organization. This was further exacerbated by Russia’s unilateral and imperialist policies in the former Soviet space, which have alarmed its neighbors, tainted Russia’s image, weakened the CSTO’s potential role, and ruined its relations with the West.
All of these factors make it unlikely that the Moscow-led military bloc can attract new members.
CSTO’s Origins and Role in Russia’s Regional Security Architecture
The CSTO has been an essential element of Russia’s claim to and attempt to maintain some manner of hegemony over the former Soviet space, especially in Central Asia, where the majority of CSTO members are found. Even after it formally recognized the independence of post-Soviet states, Russia felt entitled to the region and regarded the local states as primitive and in need of Russia’s tutelage. Moscow also wanted to have its own sphere of exclusive influence. Russia sought to gain recognition of its privileged role as the “sheriff” of Eurasia, which would have primacy in the security field (in comparison to China’s role as the region’s main investor). To that end, Moscow wanted to establish its own military bloc that “mimicked” Western alliances like NATO.
The CSTO traces its origins to the May 1992 Collective Security Treaty (CST), which was initially signed by nine Soviet successor states – Russia, Belarus, Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, Armenia, Uzbekistan, Georgia, and Azerbaijan – only to be later reduced to six when the latter three opted out of Russia-led security arrangements. Notably, at the time, Ukraine, Moldova, and Turkmenistan did not seek to be parties to the CST or other formal Russia-led military alliances. Later, Ukraine and Moldova would join Georgia, Azerbaijan, and, at one point, briefly Uzbekistan, in forming a balancing politico-security organization called GUAM (GUUAM when Uzbekistan was a member) that sought to counter Russia’s self-imposed hegemony in the former Soviet space.
The CSTO was institutionalized in 2002 when the six remaining signatories agreed to transform their defensive treaty into a full-fledged organization. Since then, it has been Russia’s primary “forum for engaging the Central Asian States on security issues.” Over the years, Russia’s main foreign policy and security documents have promoted the CSTO as “one of the key elements of the current security framework in the post-Soviet space,” which was claimed to be capable of countering modern threats to the region. These statements are frequently reiterated in a formulaic manner by the representatives of the Russian government – particularly Vladimir Putin – at the annual CSTO summits.
There were practical reasons why Moscow and its allies sought to set up and further develop the CSTO. In the 1990s and early 2000s, various security threats emerged that encouraged, and usually required, joint efforts. These included countering destabilization stemming from the spread of transnational terrorism, extremism (mainly from Afghanistan but also from the Middle East), and a rise in international crime and drug trafficking, which were some of the organization’s main foci.
These issues by no means went away, as visible by recent statements made by Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov, who highlighted the threat posed by Islamic State and al-Qaida cells in Afghanistan. Notably, Lavrov’s comments suggest that Moscow now recognizes the Taliban as the rulers of Afghanistan and, in the foreign minister’s words, considers “it a matter of principle to help [the Taliban] in that struggle [against the Islamic State and al-Qaida].”
To address some of these threats, the organization developed a joint military force comprised of the larger 22,000-strong Collective Rapid Reaction Forces (CRRF) and more combat-ready Collective Rapid Deployment Forces (CRDF), some 3,500 soldiers, which conduct regular exercises.
Moscow has also sought to promote the organization’s broader posture. It gained observer status at the United Nations General Assembly in 2004 and continued to interact, including the participation of CSTO member states in U.N. peacekeeping and by U.N. representatives at CSTO peacekeeping training drills. Russia also sought to establish contact with other regional and global organizations like the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO), the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE), and especially the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO). To Russia’s disappointment, attempts at interacting with the Western alliance were unsuccessful. NATO has consistently ignored the CSTO’s overtures. It would have precluded them from establishing important bilateral links with individual Central Asian states and would have recognized a nominal parity between NATO and the CSTO, something that Moscow really wanted.
At the same time, however, in the mid-2000s, Russia refocused its attention on political developments and, in particular, the “color revolutions” among its neighbors, some of which drifted away from Russia’s orbit – such as Ukraine, Georgia, and Moldova – and sought integration in Western structures, including NATO. This so-called (by some Russian scholars) “erosion of post-Soviet space” became a concern to Russia, which sought to reverse it, including by force, as was the case in Georgia in 2008.
Organizations like the CSTO, whose charter contains provisions on the placement of military equipment and troops of non-members on their territories, de facto work against the expansion of Western-led organizations into the former Soviet space. In that sense, the organization has, as one scholar wrote, “evolved in direct reaction to the Western alliance” and sought to counter it.
Unsurprisingly, Russia’s unilateral imperialist policies against Georgia in 2008 and then Ukraine in 2014 were detrimental to the development of its regional integrative projects, including the CSTO, and to Russia’s role as the supposed “sheriff” in the post-Soviet space. The functioning of Russia-led regional integration required careful balancing of the internal dynamics of these heavily lopsided organizations.
Russia was by far the most powerful state in the former Soviet space and was regarded with distrust by smaller members. It provided important enticements, such as the institutional design that included consensus decision-making, voice opportunities, and the provision of Russian military equipment at discounted prices. However, Russia’s lingering role in secessionist and frozen conflicts in the post-Soviet space (such as in Moldova), the support and recognition of breakaway provinces (for example, in Georgia), and its irredentist actions, including occupation and annexations of territories of other states (as in Ukraine) deeply alarmed its smaller neighbors.
These realities renewed fears over Russia’s imperialist intentions and preparedness to ignore the sovereignty and territorial integrity of the other post-Soviet states. In 2008, following the Russo-Georgian War, the CSTO issued a declaration at its Moscow summit. While the member states nominally supported “the active role of Russia in peace and cooperation assistance in the region” and voiced “deep concern” over Georgia’s attempt “to solve the conflict in South Ossetia by force,” they did not follow Moscow in recognizing the breakaway regions. After Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, the CSTO similarly avoided discussing uncomfortable subjects such as the potential sending of their joint forces to support Russia’s war.
Except for the January 2022 military operation in Kazakhstan, which was the first successful deployment of its peacekeeping forces upon the request of a member state, the CSTO’s record remains unimpressive. In particular, the fallout from the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict left the organization in crisis, with Armenians feeling betrayed by the lack of support from the organization they “had always pinned the most hope on.” Indeed, the situation was exacerbated by recent revelations that between 2018 and 2022, Belarus actively aided Azerbaijan by “modernizing older artillery equipment and providing new gear used for electronic warfare and drone systems.” The Armenian and Belarusian governments recalled their ambassadors, and Pashinyan denounced Belarus’ President Aleksandr Lukashenko. Hence, some have questioned the CSTO’s future, with one scholar describing it as “bleak” given the low trust levels.
Post-Ukraine War Fortunes: Further Decline or a Possible Enlargement?
Secretary-General Tasmagambetov’s suggestions about a possible future CSTO enlargement represent an unlikely scenario.
One of the challenges that Tasmangambetov flaunted as one of the organization’s strengths is multi-vectorism in the foreign policy of CSTO member states. Indeed, former Soviet Republics – especially those in Central Asia – have for years pursued multi-vector foreign policy, seeking to turn their seemingly susceptible position of being courted by several great powers at the same time to their advantage.
Amid Russia’s collapsed relations with the West, the prospect of a new state seeking integration into a Russia-led military alliance appears unlikely. It would de facto designate that country as an ally of Moscow. Not only would this deprive such a country of specific freedoms in foreign policy (to pursue relations with the West, for example), but it would also attach them to an international pariah state that has broken some of its principal international obligations under the U.N. Charter, all the more egregiously because Russia is a permanent member of the U.N. Security Council with an elevated responsibility for the preservation of the international order.
Indeed, the question of Russia’s international image in the fallout of its invasion of Ukraine was on the mind of the existing CSTO member states. As has been emphasized by other scholars, Russia’s transformation into an international pariah state and the stigma attached to it burdened its relations with close allies. It became costly for them to engage with Russia, although certainly not to the extent that they would cut ties. Nonetheless, some of Moscow’s CSTO allies sought to distance themselves from Russia immediately after it invaded Ukraine.
For instance, Kazakh President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev stated at the June 2022 St. Petersburg Economic Forum that his government would not recognize the “quasi-state entities” of Donetsk and Luhansk (which had not yet been annexed by Russia at that point). Then, in June 2023, Armenia’s Pashinyan stated that his country was “not Russia’s ally in the war with Ukraine.” Any prospective new member of the CSTO would thus have to weigh the possible repercussions for its deciding to associate more closely with Russia.
Armenia’s recent experience and frustration with the CSTO are important lessons for any prospective new applicant for membership. While it is unlikely they would have a similarly complicated geopolitical predicament upon accession as the government in Yerevan has had since they signed up for the CST in 1992, the CSTO’s inability and unwillingness to assist its own member state is a severe dent to its reputation and could discourage others from seeking membership.
Finally, there is also a future question of “side payments.” Russia made military-technical cooperation between CSTO member states a necessary “enticement” for marketing the benefits of association with CSTO. Smaller members were allowed to procure Russian military hardware at preferential prices, and their military personnel enjoyed subsidized study at Russian military academies.
However, according to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI), Russia’s share of global arms exports has declined for years. Moreover, the situation has become compounded by Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Moscow has become a less reliable provider of these crucial side payments as its military-industrial complex prioritizes re-arming Russia’s own armed forces. Also, the military-industrial complex has struggled not just with the ability to replace Russian battlefield losses in Ukraine but also with the repercussions of Western sanctions. Researchers show that Russian manufacturers have faced a race against time to find import substitutions for microprocessors, which were previously obtained from now unfriendly Western nations, or helicopter engines and naval diesel turbines manufactured in Ukraine.
Hence, prospective applicants must consider Moscow’s problems before signing up for the CSTO. The existing member states have sought to address their security needs by signing deals for the purchase or joint production of foreign-made weapons systems like drones from other partners, including Turkey, Iran, and China. This multi-vectorism in the security sphere could ramp up further should Moscow continue to fail as a security provider and as an ally.