“We maintain contacts with all political forces currently present in Syria,” said the Foreign Ministry spokeswoman after the opposition to the Assad regime took power. On the eve of the dictator’s flight from Damascus, Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov had still used his old rhetoric, declaring that “terrorists must not be allowed to seize territory in Syria.” But just two days later, Putin’s officials were referring to an “opposition,” whose only distinguishing characteristic was the qualifier “armed”—a Russian turning point. Behind this shift lies Russia’s primary interest in its naval base in Tartus and its airbase in Hmeimim, both located in Latakia province on the Mediterranean coast. After the “stabilization of the situation,” Russia would discuss the continuation of its troop presence with “the new government,” Putin’s spokesman stated. Contacts were already underway, and the security of these bases, as well as that of the embassy in Damascus, was a priority, Dmitry Peskov added.
The Kremlin also spread the message that the new rulers had guaranteed this security. However, Hmeimim was established in 2015 to defeat the very forces that have now taken power in Damascus. Before Assad’s fall, the Russian Air Force had been operating from there to slow the advance of the rebels, regularly announcing the “elimination” of “terrorists” in three-digit numbers. The question of Russia’s military bases would be decided “from the perspective of the benefits and interests of the Syrian people as well as Russia’s interests.” What this means remains a matter of negotiation.
Putin desperately needs these bases—to project power into the Middle East and the Mediterranean, to threaten NATO’s southeastern flank, and to support Russia’s activities in Africa, which play a central role in his efforts to position himself as the leader of a “Global South.” Without Hmeimim and Tartus, the so-called Africa Corps—the Russian Defense Ministry’s successor to the Wagner mercenary group—would face logistical difficulties. Even after the uprising and death of former Wagner leader Yevgeny Prigozhin in 2023, these mercenaries remain the backbone of Russia’s African operations. All fighters, trainers, ammunition, and military equipment reach their destinations via the Syrian bases. Direct flights from Russia to West and Central Africa are not feasible due to the long distance. Instead, a Russian transport plane makes a refueling stop in Hmeimim before continuing to eastern Libya. From there, the aircraft visits all mercenary locations, from Bamako in Mali and Ouagadougou in Burkina Faso to Bangui in the Central African Republic (CAR) and Sudan. Additional shipments arrive by ship in Tartus and are transferred to aircraft for further transport.
Initially, the mercenaries were deployed in Libya, Sudan, and the CAR. Their presence expanded with the wave of military coups in the Sahel region—Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger—where new military governments sought partners after turning away from former colonial power France. Following the withdrawal of French troops and the UN peacekeeping mission MINUSMA, the United States also abandoned its last military base in Niger in August. “African countries miscalculated—they saw Russia as a stable partner but likely did not consider its heavy reliance on Syria,” said a German expert. This dependency poses a problem not just for Moscow. Russia effectively has no alternatives to these bases. Agreements with eastern Libyan strongman Khalifa Haftar have proven difficult, and even this route is long, requiring Russian transport planes to fly there empty. Sudan, another potential fallback option, is in the midst of war. In all scenarios, costs would be significantly higher than they are today, raising doubts about whether African military governments could continue to afford Russian mercenaries. The financial pressure is particularly evident in Mali, where efforts to boost gold revenues have recently led to arrests of executives from Western mining companies and an arrest warrant for the CEO of a Canadian corporation.
For Putin, it is now crucial to distance himself from the losing side. While a formal error analysis is not part of the Russian system, the Kremlin’s close association with Assad is obvious, as is the strain on Russia’s military due to the war in Ukraine. “If the terrorists raise their heads again, we will strike them with blows they have never seen before,” Putin declared in Hmeimim in late 2017. But before Assad’s fall, estimates suggested that the number of combat aircraft and helicopters in Hmeimim had dropped from 80 to just 15–20. Bloomberg reported that Putin’s agents had to bring Assad to the base and fly him out from there, explaining to him why they had failed to foresee the danger. Russian war bloggers on Telegram complain that generals who failed in Ukraine have now been sent to Syria. When Peskov was asked whether the “special operation” in Ukraine had weakened Russia’s position in the Middle East, he responded: “At the time, we helped Syria deal with terrorists and fulfilled our mission.” After that, he added, “Assad’s leadership” unfortunately led the country into its current situation.
