The Kremlin’s latest charm offensive in Beijing has ended in a conspicuous failure. President Vladimir Putin’s high-stakes visit to secure a long-awaited pipeline deal with China has yielded nothing but a photo opportunity and a clear signal that Beijing is not a compliant junior partner but a calculating player in its own right. The proposed Power of Siberia 2 pipeline, which would have funnelled 50 billion cubic metres of gas annually from Russia’s Yamal fields to China, remains a paper tiger.
This is not merely a diplomatic hiccup. It is a threat vector that exposes the brittle foundations of Russia’s strategic pivot eastwards. Since the West slammed shut its energy doors in 2022, Moscow has painted its turn to Asia as a masterstroke. But the reality on the ground is grim. China drove a hard bargain, demanding a price discount of 30% to 40% below market rates, effectively turning Russia into a supplier of last resort. Putin came back empty-handed, his leverage evaporating as winter looms.
The implications for global energy security are profound. Europe, having weaned itself off Russian gas, now watches as Moscow’s sole alternative buyer refuses to pay premium. This leaves Russia with a surplus of gas that it cannot offload without crippling its own budget. The Kremlin’s war machine, already straining under sanctions, now faces a revenue crunch. Meanwhile, China, ever the opportunist, can afford to wait. Beijing’s own energy diversification includes Central Asian pipelines, LNG imports from Qatar and Australia, and a ramping domestic renewables sector. The Chinese do not need this deal; they merely want it on their terms.
This failure also highlights a strategic intelligence failure within the Kremlin. Putin’s inner circle appears to have miscalculated China’s willingness to act as a geopolitical patron. The assumption that a shared antipathy towards the West would translate into an open cheque book was naive. In reality, Beijing is playing a long game, extracting concessions on everything from technology transfers to military coordination before signing anything. The Kremlin’s desperation has become a negotiating weakness that China exploits with cold precision.
From a military readiness perspective, the energy crunch forces Russia to make hard choices. Without Asian revenue, funding for the war in Ukraine becomes more constrained. We are already seeing signs of logistic strain: aging Soviet-era equipment being pulled from storage, and a reliance on North Korean artillery shells. The pipeline deal’s collapse accelerates this decline. Every day without that pipeline, Russia’s strategic position in Eastern Europe weakens.
Moreover, this episode underscores a broader shift in global alliances. The Sino-Russian partnership, so often hyped as an axis of autocracy, is revealed as a transactional relationship where China holds the upper hand. For NATO and the Five Eyes, this is a mixed blessing. It means less threat from a collusive Eurasian bloc, but it also means a more isolated Russia, potentially more erratic and dangerous. A cornered Russia might lash out in cyberspace or escalate its hybrid warfare against Western infrastructure.
The United Kingdom and its allies must treat this as a warning. Putin’s failure in Beijing does not equate to a diminished threat. It means a more resource-constrained adversary, one whose next moves will be less predictable. We should expect an uptick in disinformation campaigns aimed at fracturing Western unity, and increased probing of undersea cables and energy grids. Military planners must recalibrate contingencies for a Russia that no longer sees even China as a safe bet.
In the end, the empty-handed Putin returns to Moscow not with a deal, but with a strategic black eye. The pipeline that was supposed to secure Russia’s economic survival remains a mirage. And in the chess game of great power competition, that is a move that weakens the Kremlin’s entire position, from the Donbas to the South China Sea. The West would be foolish not to capitalise.
