Eighty years after the end of World War II, the heart of Eurasia is once again at the centre of competing narratives and grand strategies. In China, the anniversary was celebrated with spectacular military displays and headlining pronouncements about strength, unity, and technological prowess. Yet, behind the colorful celebrations lies a more sobering set of realities—particularly when it comes to the geopolitics of energy. Today's discourse is defined not only by the memories of victory but also by the colossal undertakings of pipeline diplomacy, export ambitions, and the daunting economics of connecting some of the world's most remote and inhospitable territories.
The Political Theatre of Victory and Alliances
China’s determination to enshrine its version of history—seeing the defeat of Japan as the principal endpoint of the world war—highlights how political memory shapes today’s alliances and rivalries. Russia, too, has a vested interest both in the remembrance of World War II and in projecting itself as an essential arbiter in Eurasia. These milestones often serve as the backdrop for new projects—symbolic and tangible alike—including the recent trilateral memorandum between Russia, China, and Mongolia on the "Power of Siberia 2" gas pipeline.
The exclusion of Armenia and Azerbaijan from these victory commemorations is no historical footnote; it reflects present-day fissures and the fluid calculus of regional alignments. Big events and grandstanding, as one observer noted, often mask underlying complexities; the challenge lies in distinguishing between substantive policy shifts and temporary gestures.
Energy as Instrument and Obstacle
The proposed Power of Siberia 2 pipeline project exemplifies how energy infrastructure has become both a symbol and a technical-economic crucible for Russian ambitions in the east. Ostensibly, the pipeline is set to connect Russia with China through Mongolia, serving as a corridor for Siberian natural gas into the Chinese industrial heartland.
At a glance, this seems like the logical next step for Russia, whose European export routes have been severely constrained by political developments, sanctions, and market shifts. Yet this project—hailed in press releases and political summits—remains, at its core, speculative.
Despite repeated announcements, what exists so far is not a contract, but a memorandum with many loose ends. There is no pricing formula, no finalized design documentation, and no engineering surveys along the selected route. Even the production capacity for large-diameter pipes in Russia is uncertain, rendered idle and possibly obsolete by years of economic stagnation. Fund allocations for such preliminary work are themselves in doubt, given the overall financial health of the primary stakeholders.
A review of similar megaprojects from the last decade paints an instructive picture: the completion of a pipeline of this scale will take at least five years from the moment all legal, financial, and technical hurdles have been cleared. At present, no such clarity exists. Until hard intergovernmental agreements and detailed design work are completed, Power of Siberia 2 is more an aspiration than an impending reality.
Mongolia’s Position: Route or Roadblock?
Mongolia's role in the pipeline drama is far from passive. Politically, the country must balance the incentives of being a key transit state with the risks of overdependence on either neighbour.
Proponents of the pipeline argue that Mongolia will benefit from transit revenues and greater industrial development. In practice, however, Mongolia's sparsely populated, highly dispersed society—with limited urbanization and an energy demand far below what pipelines are designed for—makes the case for mass gasification dubious.
The preferred energy solutions for such an environment are localized: technologically advanced coal plants for settlements, small-scale renewables for even more isolated areas, and targeted deployment of LNG or solar generation. For many Mongolian communities, upgrades to microgrid infrastructure or decentralized generation are far more suited than the arrival of a continent-spanning pipeline.
Politically, Mongolia is wary of becoming a mere corridor for Russian and Chinese interests. Whereas large-scale transit infrastructure could bring windfalls, it could also cement Mongolia’s role as a supplicant in the regional hierarchy and restrict its future sovereignty. Thus, the pipeline route may suit Russian and Chinese negotiators, but its real value to Ulaanbaatar is more as a bargaining chip than a lifeline.
The Economics (and Pitfalls) of Cross-Continental Gas
Core to the entire exercise is the underlying economics, which are none too reassuring. Even under ideal conditions, the cost of constructing and commissioning thousands of kilometers of pipeline—across swamps, mountains, and frozen taiga—would be staggering. Factors like high labor costs, the need for new compressor stations, the challenge of maintaining steady gas pressure, and the uncertain availability of skilled workers all compound the difficulty.
Competing priorities further muddy the water. While Russia hopes that China will provide a stable, high-volume export market for gas, China is acutely aware of its own leverage.
As a potential monopsony—an exclusive buyer with immense bargaining power—China will insist on long-term price controls favourable to itself. This brings to mind past Russian experience with the European Union: what began as diversification through multiple buyers quickly shifted to near-total dependency on a single negotiating bloc, resulting in price manipulation, supply disruptions, and "gas wars".
Worse, large centralized projects might not be as advantageous as they appear. For cross-country gas transport exceeding 2,500-3,000 kilometers, liquefied natural gas (LNG) shipped by tanker often emerges as the more cost-effective and flexible option. The longer the pipeline, the greater the technical and economic inefficiency—raising the question of why new lines were not prioritized for domestic integration and regional development instead.
Vladivostok LNG and the Internal Market
One of the most contentious debates concerns the decision to shelve (or at best, delay) expansion of LNG facilities in Vladivostok. The logic for prioritizing LNG seems compelling. Russia already operates a major LNG plant on Sakhalin, and additional lines could rapidly be constructed there, avoiding the need for hundreds or thousands of kilometers of new pipeline through some of Russia's most difficult terrain. However, the politics of monopoly and control have repeatedly stymied rational development.
Large players, such as Rosneft and Gazprom, have fought to protect their interests—often preferring to inject unexported gas back into oil fields for secondary recovery, rather than selling it at unfavorable regulated prices. The upshot has been perennial bottlenecks, resource base uncertainty, and a persistent mismatch between optimal engineering solutions and political-economic priorities. The consequences are clear: even when the supply and export infrastructure exists on paper, unresolved issues of control, pricing, and mutual suspicion can freeze progress.
Energy for Whom?
A key theme emerging from expert discussion is the risk of subordinating Russia’s own territorial ambitions to the immediate needs of export markets. The vast expanse of Siberia and the Russian Far East remain underdeveloped in terms of energy infrastructure—a problem that will only intensify as population and investment begin shifting eastward. Many experts argue that the most meaningful outcome of projects like Power of Siberia 2 would be the comprehensive gasification of Siberia for internal use first, with exports emerging as a secondary benefit, not the core rationale.
Such an approach has immediate, tangible benefits: boosting local industry, raising living standards, improving logistics, and laying the groundwork for further population and economic growth in notoriously difficult conditions. The reality is that, over the next two to three decades, Russia itself will face serious energy deficits in these regions as Moscow finally turns its gaze toward long-neglected eastern provinces. Investments made today for external gain could, with planning, provide the backbone for domestic prosperity tomorrow.
The Myth and Cost of Grand Alliances
If pipeline diplomacy is beset by technical, financial, and local political obstacles, the much-discussed trilateral alliance between Russia, China, and India is even more precarious. While parades and summits may feature dramatic tableaus—Putin as Superman, Xi as Captain America—the realities of regional politics allow for only transactional or situational alliances.
Real disputes over water, territory, and spheres of influence run deep between India and China, while Russian interests align only intermittently with each.
Grand unification, Western-style synergy, and hopes for strategic coherence are mostly mirages; these partnerships endure only so long as immediate U.S. pressures or trade routes make the cost of not cooperating higher than the cost of uneasy coexistence.
China’s efforts at military modernization, though impressive in scope—parading new missiles, drones, and ballistic submarines—are cast in doubt by persistent problems in materials, engine technologies, and organizational doctrine. Both Russian and outsider analysis echoes scepticism toward parade-ready "showcase" equipment that remains two technological generations behind operational Western models.
Engineers and defence analysts remain unimpressed by mere external hardware demonstrations: only systems proven under operational conditions, supported by robust logistics, doctrine, and continuous innovation, will pass the test of actual warfighting efficacy.
Looking Ahead: The Strategic Calculus
All signs point to a strategic recalibration for Russia—with its long-term prosperity, regional development, and even regime stability tied not to transient export booms, but to the success of internal infrastructure projects and energy modernization. If the Power of Siberia 2 pipeline and related projects are to achieve lasting significance, it will be because they serve the comprehensive development of Siberia and the Russian Far East—and not simply as levers in desperate bidding wars with China.
The lesson of the past is clear: over-leveraging a single customer, whether Europe or China, inevitably backfires.
At a time when the political temptation to seize the moment—whether with spectacular parades or visionary megaprojects—is at its peak, policy must be grounded in rigorous economics and a sober assessment of technical capacities. As construction plans come and go, and as military pageantry cycles endlessly on social media, only sustained investment in infrastructure, driven by the needs of domestic development, will secure Eurasia’s energy future.
The real "victory" of the next twenty years in Eurasia will be measured not by photo ops or parade columns, but by the lights that stay on through the Siberian winter and the prosperity of towns and industries strung along the steel veins of a truly connected continent.