Introduction

The ancient Russian principality—later conventionally referred to as “Kievan Rus’”—reached its peak during the reign of Vladimir I, who ruled from Kyiv between (978–1015), after subjugating the remaining rebellious Slavic tribes and establishing an alliance with the Eastern Roman Empire (“Byzantium”). This alliance was strengthened through marriage into the imperial family, when he wed Anna, the daughter of Emperor Romanos II and the sister of Emperor Basil II. Prior to this, he adopted Eastern Christianity as part of this political bargain and then imposed it as the official religion on the Eastern Slavs, the ancestors of (Russians, Ukrainians, Belarusians, Rusyns). He also triumphed over neighboring Hungarian, Polish, and Czech forces.

Over time, the principality evolved into a system resembling a federation. The number of its principalities rose to around twenty or more, while the “Grand Prince,” holder of nominal legitimacy, remained in Kyiv—similar to the Abbasid caliphs in their later period—without real authority beyond the city itself. Under this fragmented order and the rivalries among these principalities, the Mongols were able, beginning in 1237, to invade Russian principalities one after another and subjugate them all by 1240.

After 240 years—specifically in 1480—Ivan III, the Grand Prince of Moscow, refused to pay tribute to the Mongol khanates, inaugurating what Russians call liberation from the “Mongol yoke.” His grandson Ivan IV (“the Terrible”) then moved to eliminate Mongol khanates in Astrakhan, Kazan, and Siberia, and proclaimed himself Tsar of All Russia in 1547—culminating in Peter the Great, who declared Russia’s transformation from a Tsardom into an Empire in 1721. The Russian Empire reached the height of its greatness and expansion under Empress Catherine the Great (1762–1796).

Across these successive phases of expansion, Russia faced a major structural crisis: the lack of access to warm seas. This made it primarily a land power, with limited capacity to expand beyond its geographic environment or develop commercial relations with the world—while simultaneously remaining vulnerable to blockade by major maritime powers. This pushed Russia into a long struggle to formulate recurring strategies aimed at ending its geopolitical isolation—strategies that matured in their most recent form under the Commander-in-Chief of the Soviet Navy, Admiral Sergei Gorshkov (1956–1985). His naval doctrine was grounded in a core assumption: whoever controls maritime communications possesses the instruments of global influence. This idea guided Soviet expansion toward the Indian Ocean via the Red Sea—and today Vladimir Putin seeks to reactivate it in practice through Sudan, which occupies a pivotal position for implementing this Russian strategy after Moscow established a foothold on the African coast.

In this long historical context, Russia’s renewed presence in the Red Sea and the African coast cannot be understood as merely circumstantial or tactically isolated. Rather, it is a logical extension of an established maritime doctrine formed since the Soviet era. Just as Gorshkov viewed the Red Sea as a strategic gateway to the Indian Ocean and a way to break the Western maritime ring, Moscow today—under Vladimir Putin—returns to the same logic, repositioned in a different international environment, with Sudan as a central pivot in the equation of Russian maritime influence beyond its traditional sphere.

The Red Sea from Moscow’s Perspective: Sudan as a Strategic Pivot

After the dissolution of the Soviet Union on December 26, 1991, the Crimean Peninsula became part of the independent Republic of Ukraine, which includes the city of Sevastopol—historically the main headquarters of the Soviet Black Sea Fleet since the nineteenth century. With this shift, Sevastopol became Russia’s most important naval base on the Black Sea, but under a new legal status that required Moscow to rely on contractual arrangements with Kyiv. Under a series of agreements between the Russian Federation and Ukraine, the base was leased to Russia as the headquarters of the Russian Black Sea Fleet in 1997 until 2017. The lease was then extended in the 2010 Kharkiv Accords until 2042, with the possibility of a final extension to 2047. Russia ended this dilemma fundamentally by annexing Crimea in March 2014, securing its regional maritime position through direct control of Crimea and linking the Black Sea Fleet based in Sevastopol to the Syrian naval facility in Tartus on the Mediterranean. This linkage enabled Russia to exit through the Turkish straits and operate in the Mediterranean with rest, refueling, and resupply capabilities via Tartus, whereas it had been difficult for the fleet to operate in this open sea without support bases—especially compared to the U.S. Sixth Fleet, which relies on a broad network of naval bases.

Building on the above—after securing Russia’s presence in the Black Sea following the annexation of Crimea, and ensuring its ability to sail and operate in the Mediterranean through the Tartus facility, following the fall of the Assad regime and an understanding with the Syrian interim authority to respect all previous agreements [2], as confirmed by interim President Ahmed al-Sharaa during his visit to Moscow on October 15, 2025—Russia’s naval forces became positioned to move to the third step: advancing toward the Indian Ocean. However, the challenge of reaching the Indian Ocean resembles the earlier challenge of reaching the Mediterranean: it requires an intermediate naval base so that the Russian fleet is not forced to sail long distances without any support facilities. Moscow therefore needs a base that plays a role similar to Tartus—but on the Red Sea. The Soviets previously achieved this through Admiral Gorshkov’s strategy, securing naval facilities in Aden in South Yemen, Berbera in Somalia, and in Ethiopia before Eritrea’s secession—only to lose all of them after the Soviet Union’s collapse.

In the current geopolitical context, Sudan emerges as Russia’s most suitable option for several overlapping reasons. On the one hand, Sudan’s military institution faces an armed rebellion supported by powerful regional actors serious about sustaining that support, while the will of the army’s regional allies appears clearly weak. On the other hand, the Western position is characterized by apparent neutrality, but in practice it leans toward a “positive neutrality” that benefits the rebel forces. Despite repeated appeals by Lieutenant General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, Chairman of Sudan’s Transitional Sovereignty Council, to the United States, Europe, and China—and despite efforts by his regional allies to push Washington to intervene—these attempts have produced no tangible results, while the supporters of the rebellion continued organized support without deterrence. As a result, the Sudanese army has a growing incentive to pivot toward Russia after largely exhausting efforts to attract Western powers to its side.

Other Red Sea states that might theoretically host Russian naval bases face structural and political constraints. Yemen, in its current state, cannot make such a decision amid sharp divisions between the Houthis and the internationally recognized legitimacy camp, in addition to disputes between the latter and the Southern Transitional Council seeking secession or “disengagement,” as it describes it—along with the absence of a unified southern consensus. Somalia likewise suffers deep internal fragmentation. While there are rumors that the secessionist Somaliland region has floated hosting a Russian naval base in exchange for Moscow’s recognition of its independence, this option remains highly risky: it could draw Russia into direct conflict with Somalia’s central government and provoke major regional powers such as Egypt and Saudi Arabia, as well as Western states. Eritrea could present an alternative—especially the port of Massawa—but this scenario remains high-cost and high-risk even if Asmara were to agree, given the potential to worsen relations with Ethiopia, which carries particular importance in Russian calculations. As for Djibouti, Russia limits itself to modest logistical support without seeking a full naval base, given the sensitivity of such a decision for Djibouti and its limited political capacity to take it.

By contrast, Sudan holds particular importance if Russia can establish a naval base on its coast and build a stable strategic relationship with the Sudanese military. Sudan would constitute Russia’s gateway to the African Sahel, where Moscow has already begun consolidating presence and influence in several countries, alongside its presence in eastern Libya—making Sudan an ideal location serving multiple strategic objectives at once. Notably, Russia’s Sahel presence began in practice through Sudan itself—specifically during former Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir’s visit to Russia in November 2017, when he met Vladimir Putin in Sochi and publicly offered Russian political and military protection for Sudan and a deepened strategic partnership, concluding by emphasizing that Sudan could be Russia’s gateway to Africa. [3]

A Russian naval base on Sudan’s Red Sea coast would enable Moscow to connect command of its Black Sea Fleet—through the Turkish straits—into the Mediterranean, where rest and resupply capabilities exist, and then southward into the Red Sea with a support base enabling access to the Indian Ocean. In doing so, Russia would link its naval fleets through an integrated support network in both the Mediterranean and the Red Sea, allowing easier access to Indian, Pakistani, and Bangladeshi ports—and giving Moscow instruments of global influence in line with the vision Admiral Gorshkov embedded in Russian naval doctrine. Such positioning would also allow Russia direct reach to its allies in Sahel states such as Mali, Niger, Burkina Faso, and the Central African Republic—perhaps even lateral expansion toward the Atlantic—thereby realizing a longstanding dream of tsars, emperors, and Soviet leaders that for decades appeared difficult to achieve.

The Geopolitical Impact of a Russian Position in Sudan on the Sudanese Army’s International Relations

Reports of granting Russia a naval base in Port Sudan began circulating after the fall of Omar al-Bashir’s regime and the formation of Abdalla Hamdok’s government in September 2019, and the issue resurfaced again in June 2024. More recently, The Wall Street Journal published a report titled, “Sudan Offers Russia Its First Naval Base in Africa” [4], dated December 1. The report appeared internally contradictory. On one hand, it spoke of a Sudanese offer presented to Russia in October to establish a naval base hosting around 300 soldiers and four ships, including nuclear-powered vessels, with mining-sector privileges for Russia in exchange for air-defense systems and other weapons at preferential prices. On the other hand, it concluded by noting that Sudan—supposedly the initiator—was hesitant to implement the agreement for fear of U.S. and European reactions. To date, no official statement from Moscow or Khartoum has confirmed or denied what the report contained. Still, the assumption that Sudan might take this step carries profound geopolitical implications that warrant analysis regarding its effects on the Sudanese army’s relations with international and regional powers.

The United States

The United States does not appear to have a clear strategy toward the Sahel and the Horn of Africa in general, and Sudan in particular. Even President Trump’s statements on Sudan to date seem closer to public relations framing, linked to a particular appreciation for Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, rather than translating into serious political or security steps. U.S. efforts are mainly focused on protecting the maritime corridor in the Red Sea, and perhaps conducting limited counterterrorism activities in Sahel states. Meanwhile, the latest U.S. strategy contains no clear references to Sudan or the Horn of Africa.

In practice, throughout its modern history Sudan has not been a close U.S. ally. Relations fluctuated sharply, with a limited qualitative rapprochement during the second half of former President Jaafar Nimeiri’s rule in the early 1980s, driven by shared interests in confronting communist expansion and the policies of Colonel Muammar Gaddafi in Africa—before the relationship quickly deteriorated afterward. Accordingly, Sudan cannot be considered a central strategic asset for U.S. policy in the region, and its rapprochement with Moscow does not in itself represent a major strategic loss for Washington. This does not mean the United States would be indifferent to a potential Russian military presence in Sudan. However, in light of the apparent personal rapprochement between Putin and Trump, Trump’s bypassing of traditional institutional frameworks, the dominance of deal-making logic in his foreign policy, and what appears to be a relative weakness in the U.S. governing establishment, such a development may not push Washington toward decisive reactions.

In this context, Sudan’s side may question the actual utility of trying to satisfy the United States amid an absence of political will to take clear decisions regarding the rebel forces and their supporters—Washington’s tendency to equate the parties to the conflict—and the lack of a defined U.S. vision of what it wants from Sudan or what it can offer it. Sudanese leadership itself also appears not to possess an integrated vision enabling it to advance a clear political initiative that would push Washington to align with its position.

The European Union

Europe, as a unified entity, does not have a clear policy toward Africa generally, or Sudan specifically. With the exception of the United Kingdom—which has developed an independent strategy to serve its interests in the region—and France—which seeks to preserve what remains of its eroding influence—there is no comprehensive European vision, nor a real capacity to make a difference in Sudan. This comes amid increasing risks threatening Europe’s security architecture due to rising doubts about U.S. commitment to the transatlantic alliance, in addition to structural disagreements within the European Union. In this context, the only file that enjoys some degree of European consensus is irregular migration flowing from the Sahel and the rest of Africa through the Sudan–Libya border.

China

There is no fundamental contradiction between Chinese and Russian positions in Africa. Beijing does not view Russia’s growing presence as a threat to its interests; it may see it as akin to a “mine-clearing vessel” that undermines Western influence without China having to play that role directly—and without incurring the pressures or Western sanctions that might follow. Russian expansion also provides China greater room for economic activity and for acquiring raw materials and natural resources in the region. Moreover, given Russia’s limited economic capacity and China’s clear technological superiority, Russia does not constitute a real competitor to Beijing. Therefore, China’s stance toward a potential Russian presence in Sudan—while not explicitly positive—is unlikely to be negative.

Regional Powers

Egypt and Saudi Arabia are the most prominent regional powers in the Red Sea. Their stance appears closer to caution and objection than to overt opposition. Both oppose regional and Arab interventions in Sudan’s internal affairs and reject dismantling the Sudanese state or weakening its military institution under the pretext of the presence of Islamist political forces within it. They also hold a firm position against Sudan’s partition. At the same time, both lack an integrated vision and sufficient political will to formulate an effective approach capable of shifting the balance of the conflict within Sudan. While they are expected to be wary of a Russian presence out of concern that the Red Sea may become further militarized—opening the door for other major powers to demand similar military presences—the expansion of rebel influence, the absence of decisive U.S. decisions, and the limited direct leverage available to Cairo and Riyadh may constrain their ability to compel Sudanese leadership to reject this option if it chooses to proceed.

Turkey, meanwhile, may see Russian naval presence as an opportunity to press for its own naval presence on Suakin Island, based on previous bilateral agreements. Ankara could market such a presence to the United States and Europe as a balancing factor that enables NATO—of which Turkey is an active member—to monitor Russian influence and constrain its capabilities. Turkey may exploit this context to pressure Western powers to apply similar pressure on the Sudanese army to allow it this presence.

Iran—aside from its ambitions to gain a direct foothold in Sudan as a launch point toward the Horn of Africa, where its relations have developed markedly over the past two decades—recognizes that granting it a direct military presence on Sudanese territory is unacceptable Sudanese-, regionally-, and internationally. Accordingly, Tehran’s priorities are likely centered on supporting Islamist forces inside Sudan and betting on them in the future as a possible channel to secure a more stable and advanced relationship with Khartoum. In this context, a potential Russian presence in Sudan—if it happens—would not be a decisive factor in Iranian calculations or a direct source of irritation. At the same time, Iran achieves tangible economic benefits from arms supplies by obtaining Sudanese commodities that can be re-exported to maximize profits and circumvent sanctions. Added to this is the boost to the combat reputation of Iranian weapons—especially drones—supporting future sales growth, as well as the development of these systems through live field testing in battle environments.

Conclusions

The available indicators suggest that any official step to grant Russia a permanent naval presence in Port Sudan would be interpreted internationally as a final strategic shift away from the West. This makes it necessary to assess the step not only in terms of immediate military gains, but also in terms of its long-term political costs for Sudan’s regional and international position.

In this context, the leak of The Wall Street Journal report can be read as a tool of political pressure more than a final announcement, giving Sudanese leadership a last margin to use this path as a bargaining card with the United States—pushing Washington to clarify its position and shift from verbal neutrality to providing tangible practical support if it wishes to prevent strategic shifts that could be difficult to reverse later.

Moreover, establishing a full Russian naval base—even if it does not provoke harsh or direct Western reactions—could grant the rebellion’s backers additional political advantage in Western capitals by strengthening their narrative as the side more aligned with Western security priorities, including counterterrorism, curbing irregular migration, and confronting Iranian and Russian influence at the same time.

At the regional level, the realization of a full Russian military presence in the Red Sea via Sudan would draw Khartoum into a wider web of complexities, including competition in the Horn of Africa, tensions related to Ethiopia and Somalia, and what could follow from indirect friction with major regional powers—especially Egypt—while accelerating the militarization of the Red Sea at the expense of traditional Arab influence there.

By contrast, Russia’s political, diplomatic, and economic capacities remain limited under Western sanctions and amid its continuing preoccupation with the Ukrainian file, which—even if a temporary settlement is reached—will require long time and sustained effort to consolidate any durable halt to conflict. Accordingly, Russia’s potential support is not expected to be decisive in shifting Sudan’s internal balance of conflict, and any arms supplies it offers do not guarantee a reversal unless accompanied by a halt to the financial and military support flows received by rebel forces from their regional backers—making the potential risks of any strategic deal with Moscow greater than its expected gains.

Finally, the option of limiting Russia to a constrained logistical station under clear and restrictive terms stands out as a less costly and more flexible alternative. This option would enable obtaining a measure of military support while retaining a political margin to test Western reactions and open a conditional negotiation window with the United States and its partners—without moving into a comprehensive strategic rupture.

Sources:

[1] Gorshkov, S. G., The Sea Power of the State, Pergamon Press, 1979

[2] Vladimir Soldatkin, Andrew Osborn, and Suleiman Al-Khalidi – “Al-Sharaa pledges to Putin to respect previous agreements” – Reuters – October 15, 2025 – [Link].

[3] Taha Abdel Wahed – “Al-Bashir asks Russia for protection to confront ‘hostile America’” – Asharq Al-Awsat – November 23, 2017 – [Link].

[4] Benoit Faucon and Nicholas Bariyo – “Sudan Offers Russia Its First Naval Base in Africa” – Dec. 1, 2025 – [Link]