As the cold war thawed in the 1980s, the frozen high north of the planet was a leading beneficiary of more conciliatory times. Speaking in Murmansk in 1987, Mikhail Gorbachev called for an end to military competition in the Arctic, and a new focus on preserving its unique ecosystem. “The community and interrelationship of the interests of our entire world,” said the Soviet leader, “is felt in the northern part of the globe, in the Arctic, perhaps more than anywhere else.”
Mr Gorbachev’s words paved the way for a cross-state consensus around the idea of “Arctic exceptionalism” – an agreement that in an environmentally crucial region, where Europe, North America and Asia meet, geopolitical rivalries should be put to one side. Since 1996, the Arctic Council, comprising the eight Arctic states including Russia, has embodied that spirit of cooperation. It is yet another disastrous consequence of Vladimir Putin’s war in Ukraine that it is now at risk.
Since Russia’s invasion in 2022, the council’s western members have rightly refused a business-as-usual approach with Moscow. At a scientific level, this has meant lack of access to crucial data and the pausing of joint projects. That is no small matter, given that 40% of the Arctic is Russian. Meanwhile, the region’s natural resources – increasingly accessible due to disappearing sea ice – are being sucked into the fallout of Mr Putin’s war. In the sanctions-hit Kremlin, the alarming pace of global heating in the Arctic is being viewed primarily as an economic opportunity in tough times.
Turning away from Europe, Mr Putin is stepping up collaboration on Arctic projects with China, following President Xi Jingping’s recent visit to Moscow. In March, Russia announced the creation of a joint working body with Beijing to develop the Northern Sea Route, which connects the eastern and western parts of the Arctic Ocean. An “energy superhighway” between Europe and Asia has become a high-priority strategic goal. China has already declared its aspirations for a “polar silk road” linking the two continents.
As well as facilitating shipping routes, melting sea ice promises much easier access to abundant untapped oil reserves, gas and raw materials. In 2008, the United States Geological Survey estimated that the Arctic region contained the equivalent of more than 400bn recoverable barrels of oil. The exploitation of such resources, along with natural gas, would be entirely incompatible with global climate targets, and the European Union has committed to keeping Arctic oil and gas in the ground. But Russia is expanding its operations, not contracting them.
The clear danger is that the breakdown of collaboration in the region, combined with Russia’s pivot to the east, leads to what the Finnish foreign minister, Pekka Haavisto, has described as “an Arctic area with no common goal for climate change”. Given that respect for the sovereignty of states is one of the Arctic Council’s founding principles, it is difficult to see how Russia can be treated as a normal member while its war continues. On the other hand, the development of a competing Sino-Russian strategy for the region, making it a new theatre of great-power rivalry, is a deeply alarming prospect. Last week it was reported that the 2030s will see the first ice-free Arctic summers. The far north of the world has entered a zone of dangerous geopolitical uncertainty.
