December 28, 2021

What’s Behind the Arms Buildup in the Balkans

warontherocks.com

What's Behind the Arms Buildup in the Balkans - War on the Rocks

Vuk Vuksanovic and Marija Ignjatijevic

15-19 minutes


No one wants a Balkans arms race, even if it's a "mini" one. Last May, when Croatia bought a dozen used Rafale fighter jets for $1.2 billion, the Associated Press described it as part of a "mini arms race" with Serbia. In October, the Economist reported on Serbia's "weapons shopping spree" and $1.4 billion-a-year military budget under the headline "A Balkans arms race."

In this case, the analysis might be off, but the concern is warranted. While Serbia and Croatia are indeed rapidly building up their respective arsenals, describing this as a simple arms race misunderstands the dynamic at play. In modernizing outdated military hardware left over from the Yugoslav era, Belgrade and Zagreb are not driven by strategic competition or fears of conflict with one another. Rather, elites in both countries are using the process of buying new weapons to advance broader foreign policy goals and, most importantly, improve their domestic political standing. The prospect of war is not realistic, but using arms procurement as an opportunity for saber-rattling can nonetheless destabilize the region.

Toys for the Serbian and Croatian Militaries

Over the past six years, Serbian and Croatian leaders have happily fed the narrative of an arms race as they engaged in a series of high-profile weapons purchases. The good news is that actual procurement has sometimes lagged behind the rhetoric, and, to date, neither side has exceeded the arms control provisions of the Dayton agreement.

Discussion of a regional arms race began in 2015 when Croatia asked the United States to donate 16 Lockheed Martin-produced M270 Multiple Launch Rocket System armed with ballistic missiles. Incumbent Serbian President Aleksandar Vučić, then prime minister, responded by announcing: "Either they will have to change their mind, or we will have to find an answer to that." Serbia quickly started looking to Russia for an answer. During a January 2016 visit to Belgrade, Russia's Deputy Prime Minister raised expectations by giving a model of the Russian S-300 missile defense system as a gift to Vučić. Over the course of the following year, tensions rose when the Croatian government cited Serbia's military buildup as possible grounds for reinstituting conscription.

In the end, however, Croatia did not receive U.S. rocket launchers and Serbia did not receive Russian S-300s. Despite the heated rhetoric, both countries faced financial constraints, and the great powers they were courting did not prove as forthcoming as they'd hoped.

Belgrade and Zagreb nevertheless persevered in their pursuit of new weapons, spending billions on defense deals over the last several years. In 2017 Serbia's largest defense contractor, Yugoimport-SDPR, developed a Šumadija tactical missile with a range of over 280 kilometers. To increase its air policing capabilities, Serbia received MIG-29 fighter jets from Russia and Belarus in 2021. Through a mix of sales and donations Russia also provided Belgrade Mi-35 and Mi-17 military transport helicopters, T-72MS tanks, BRDM-2MS armored reconnaissance vehicles, and a rapid-fire Pantsir S1 anti-aircraft missile system.

Serbia has not been picky whether it was getting hardware from Western or non-Western powers. It plans to buy about 30 military helicopters in the next two years, some from the European multinational Airbus and some from Mil Moscow Helicopter Plant, a subsidiary of Russian Helicopters company. After agreeing to buy the French surface-to-air missile system Mistral, Belgrade is now eyeing the purchase of the Chinese FK-3 anti-aircraft rocket and Israel's SPIKE LR2 anti-armor missiles. Further, Serbia's acquisition of six Chinese CH-92A drones, along with the accompanying technology transfers, has allowed it to become the largest drone operator in the Balkans.

Croatia, of course, has kept pace. In 2015 and 2016, Zagreb acquired 12 Panzerhaubitze 2000 howitzers from Germany and 16 Kiowa Warrior helicopters from the United States. It subsequently received AGM-114 Hellfire missiles from Lockheed Martin and, in late 2020, signed a deal for the modernization of 76 Bradley Fighting vehicles alongside associated machine guns and missiles.

Still, as arms control experts have noted, these purchases have yet to exceed internationally agreed restrictions. Article IV of Annex 1B of the Dayton Peace Agreement has been the bedrock of arms control in the Western Balkans since 1995, first under the auspice of the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe, then, since 2015, by agreement between the signatory states  of Serbia, Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Montenegro. In the five categories of weaponry covered by Article IV — battle tanks, armored combat vehicles, artillery, combat aircraft, and combat helicopters — both Serbia and Croatia are still within the mandated limits.

Not Quite an Arms Race

In theory, Croatia and Serbia could use their new weaponry in a future Balkan conflict. Some U.S. analysts noted that Serbia could deploy Šumadija missiles against its neighbors if they took part in another NATO campaign against Belgrade. The drones acquired by Serbia would also be powerful instruments in a hypothetical battle in Kosovo or Bosnia. If the status quo were to break down in Bosnia, the resulting fighting would inevitably suck in both Serbia and Croatia, who might then have occasion to employ their new arsenals. Croatian howitzers and attack helicopters would be effective in the low-land Serbo-Croatian border, while Israeli SPIKE missiles would be a potential equalizer for Serbia. But despite this, Bosnia has been largely absent from the rhetoric surrounding re-armament in both Belgrade and Zagreb.

More importantly, launching a new conflict in the Balkans makes no political or military sense. Indeed, there is no realistic goal that Croatia or Serbia could hope to achieve by attacking one other. It has become almost impossible to control territories inhabited by a hostile population, even for the most powerful militaries. Since 1995, neither the Croatian minority in Serbia nor the Serbian minority in Croatia is large enough to serve as the foundation for separatist ambitions.

What's more, Croatia has been a member of NATO since 2009. A Serbian attack on Croatia would activate the collective defense clause within Article 5 of the North Atlantic Treaty, prompting NATO's response against Belgrade. Similarly, NATO still has 3,600 troops in Kosovo as part of the Kosovo Force, ensuring that the Serbo-Albanian dispute over Kosovo will not be resolved militarily.

It would also be folly for Croatia to launch an offensive. The fear of being bogged down in the face of a partisan insurgency played a role in NATO's 1999 decision not to send ground troops against Serbia. If that threat was enough to deter NATO, it is enough to deter Croatia. Equally important is the fact that NATO-Serbian relations are much different now than in 1999. While Serbia does not seek NATO membership, it is a member of NATO's Partnership for Peace program, and its Individual Partnership Action Plan represents the highest level of cooperation a non-member state has with the alliance.

Moreover, waging war has become expensive for local capitals. That is why Croatia replaced its conscription military service with a professional army in 2008, and Serbia did the same in 2011. The budget deficit has been a growing concern in Croatia in recent years, impeding defense planning. The Serbian military is experiencing a constant loss of its professional cadre. The region as a whole is lagging behind in socio-economic terms and experiencing a demographic decline. That not only deprives the local leaders of the money and manpower to fight a prolonged war, but it also limits the spoils that any country could hope to achieve through victory.

Arms Procurement in Service of Foreign Policy

So, if they are not preparing for a war, why are Belgrade and Zagreb buying so many weapons? Both countries are conducting overdue military modernization while using the process to achieve other goals. In the realm of foreign policy, Serbia and Croatia are both trying to position themselves amidst growing security anxieties in Eastern Europe and worsening tensions between Russia and the West.

So long as the West perceives Russia as a threat, Serbia has an opportunity to play Russia and the West against each other. In this balancing act, its arms buildup is both an end and a means. Serbia wants to be able to buy weapons from all sides. It also hopes that having a formidable military will enhance its leverage on all sides as well. Military cooperation with Russia is a way for Serbia to increase its bargaining power with the West on outstanding issues like the Kosovo dispute. Serbia knows that the unprovoked use of military force in theaters like Bosnia or Kosovo would attract Western hostility and intervention. However, Belgrade still believes that with more weaponry at its disposal it can do better at the negotiating table.

Croatia, in turn, has used the same regional dynamics to raise its standing in the West. As one of newest members of both NATO and the European Union, Zagreb has tried to portray itself as a Western bulwark in a dangerous region, facing down Russian meddling and an unpredictable Serbia. Croatia's National Security Strategy of 2017 does not mention Serbia, but it refers to the country's "Southeastern neighbourhood" as "a source of potential challenges." Defense modernization serves to promote Croatia as the anchor of regional stability. It also helps Croatia uphold NATO's target of 2 percent defense spending. Indeed, Croatian Prime Minister Andrej Plenković has stated that purchasing Rafale jets from France takes Croatia's defense spending beyond NATO's threshold.

A Lack of Transparency

The arms race narrative also feeds, and feeds off of, a lack of defense sector transparency. Over the past five years there has been a noticeable decline in the transparency of Serbia's defense sector, particularly in finances and procurement. During this period a number of bad practices have been legalized. For instance, legal amendments have allowed the government to declare whole categories of data confidential under the guise of protecting national security. One of the categories marked confidential in 2016 was human resources management. Hence, the Serbian public cannot find official records about personnel in the defense system, and least of all, personnel drain.  Sensationalist reporting on weapons and military modernization goes hand in with preventing the public from learning about military personnel leaving the service on account of unsatisfactory conditions. Were this information more readily available, it would shatter the image of a competent government taking good care of the army, one of the most respected national institutions.

The lack of transparency in defense procurement also drives perceptions of an arms race. Military  spending is exempt from Serbia's Law on Public Procurement. This means that the Serbian Ministry of Defense does not report on confidential procurement, or even provide a lump sum of the total money spent. Nor does it publish whether, when, or with whom confidential procurement contracts are signed. Even in 2019, when legislation on public procurement was amended to align with European standards, the range of national security exemptions was broadened. Unlike in Croatia, long-term planning documents are not disclosed to the public. Hence, there is no way to determine whether the government's spending is keeping up with its own strategic planning. Instead government officials announce sales when it suits them. In 2018, the president even said he would "surprise'' citizens and soldiers with a new arms purchase.

Croatian non-transparency also benefits from the rhetoric of an arms race. As a NATO member, Croatia's finance and procurement transparency level is higher than Serbia's. Up to a point. To reach NATO's spending threshold, for example, Croatia pulled a bookkeeping trick by including war veteran pensions in its military expenditure. For the government in Zagreb, anti-Serbian rhetoric also helped suppress debate over its latest fighter jet purchase on supposed national security grounds. Throughout 2020, the Croatian public was kept out of loop as the government negotiated with potential bidders, raising suspicions about the competence of the Croatian negotiators. When the deal to purchase Rafale jets from France was announced, local media raised questions about the sudden jump in price and asked whether Croatia has the logistical capabilities to make effective use of these jets. The government hopes that tough talk toward Serbia can ensure these awkward questions will be overlooked.

The Dangers of Domestic Politics

To date, the arms race narrative has worked well for leaders in both Zagreb and Belgrade. When sensationalist reporting about arms sales is combined with military exercises and moves like reintroducing conscription, it triggers escalating rhetoric on all sides. Political leaders and the media are all too proficient in stirring the tensions and scoring populist points in order to avoid accountability for their own records. Inflammatory nationalist rhetoric is a tried and tested recipe in the region for mobilizing voters and divertubg attention from corruption and economic problems.

Not suprisingly, the "arms race" narrative has typically peaked during pre-election periods. Both Serbia and Croatia had parliamentary elections in 2016, the year the narrative first took hold. Ahead of the 2017 presidential elections in Serbia, front pages were full of reports about the arrival of MIG-29 jets from Russia. Headlines announced that "Putin will defend Serbia with weaponry" and "The Serbian Army will roar when the new MIGs arrive."

A return to the armed hostilities of the 1990s is highly unlikely, but the current process is still alarming. It is dangerous because it further poisons the already distrustful relationships between regional states. Moreover, it perpetuates the poor state of local governance. So long as spitting in the direction of your neighbors is a more appealing option than discussing policy, the region will be plagued by economic problems and poor public services. War is unlikely, but bullets do not have to be fired for the damage to be inflicted.

Serbia and Croatia have every right to modernize their outdated arsenals, particularly in light of technological transformation that is changing the global security landscape. However, they should do it in less toxic fashion. Perhaps in time politicians in both countries will come to perceive how hawkish rhetoric has actually undermined their international prestige. Or perhaps a new generation of more mature leaders will eventually emerge.

When this happens, both capitals should begin reducing tensions through consultations and confidence-building measures. In doing so, they can rely on the extant regional arms control regime, emboided by Article IV of Annex 1B of the Dayton Peace Agreement. They can also develop a billateral system of consultations between their military staffs to reduce security anxieties. More importantly, they can abandon the rhetoric of an arms race. Defense and national security should be left out of domestic politics in the Balkans where historical wounds have been slow to heal.

Vuk Vuksanovic is a senior researcher at the Belgrade Centre for Security Policy and an associate of LSE IDEAS, a foreign policy think tank at the London School of Economics and Political Science. He received his Ph.D. in international relations from the London School of Economics and Political Science. He has published widely on modern foreign and security policy issues.

Marija Ignjatijevic is a researcher at the Belgrade Centre for Security Policy. Her field of expertise covers defense policy, international military cooperation, parliamentary oversight of the armed forces, and the violent extremism in the Western Balkans. This piece is derived from the analysis they co-authored for the Belgrade Centre for Security Policy.

Image: U.S. Army (Photo by 1st Lt. Caroline Pirchner)

 

December 13, 2021

Russia does not want a war in Ukraine

spiked-online.com

Russia does not want a war in Ukraine

Mary Dejevsky

13-17 minutes


Over the past month the drum beat of a new war in the east of Europe has grown ever louder. So loud, in fact, that US president Joe Biden and Russia's president, Vladimir Putin, felt the need to hold a virtual summit on Tuesday this week. The stated aim from the Russian side was to try to clear the air and, from the US side, to stall what it had presented as Russian preparations to invade Ukraine.

The outcome, as spun by the US, included loud threats of new Western sanctions and embargoes should Russia take a step across the Ukraine border. As spun by Russia, the summit allowed for new discussions, which was in turn spun by some advocates for Ukraine as potentially jeopardising its independence.

What seems not to have been resolved in those two hours of talks, however, is the original question: is Russia mobilising to invade Ukraine? (For the New Cold Warriors, this would be the second invasion, the first being Moscow's 2014 annexation of Crimea and its ill-defined support for anti-Kiev rebels in eastern Ukraine.) And if Russia is not planning to invade, then what is going on?

The problem, as so often, is that the very same elements that can be cited as evidence of Russia's aggressive intent, in terms of troop deployment and rhetoric, can also be viewed as reactive – that is, defensive. Yet the idea that Putin might be trying to reinforce Russia's national security against what he might see as a Western threat – taking the form, say, of the NATO-backed land-grab for Ukraine – is almost never entertained. Yet consider which side has made the running here.

This latest West-Russia stand-off would appear to date from a hawkish Pentagon briefing on 10 November, which coincided with a visit to Washington by the Ukrainian foreign minister, Dmytro Kuleba, and the signing of a US-Ukraine strategic partnership agreement. Both the Pentagon and the US secretary of state referred to 'unusual troop movements' near Russia's border with Ukraine, a figure of 100,000 troops was mentioned, and the supposed threat received blanket coverage in the US media.

The UK picked up the war cry. In a series of valedictory speeches and interviews in mid November, the outgoing UK chief of defence staff, General Sir Nick Carter, commanded headlines, warning of a Russian threat that had been a leitmotif of his three-year tenure at the top of the UK's military establishment. Then came a veritable festival of Cold Warriordom in the shape of the NATO foreign ministers' meeting on 30 November, held in the Latvian capital, Riga.

Here, NATO secretary general Jens Stoltenberg was on unusually eloquent form in defence of Ukraine's independence and sovereign states' right to choose their allies. Stoltenberg also harked back to a decade-old NATO-Russia quarrel about spheres of influence. In a rare nod to his native country, he noted that Norway had never called for any sphere of influence despite its border with Russia, therefore Russia didn't need any buffer against NATO either. (A glimpse at the map might show the short length of Norway's Arctic border with Russia and the huge buffer afforded by neutral Sweden and Finland, but that's another matter.)

At the same time as the Riga meeting, an inimitable contribution to the general climate of peace and friendship was made by the UK's new foreign secretary, Liz Truss, who posed, helmeted, in a tank while visiting a British troop unit in Estonia. It was not her fault that the pictures were seen less as a warning to Russia than a Thatcher tribute act – and, as such, as an unsubtle hint about Truss's future ambitions.

Nor was this the end. From here the torch of invasion-alarm was passed to Germany where, following hot on the heels of Angela Merkel's military farewell after 16 years as chancellor, the popular Bild published an enormous 'exclusive' on 4 December, complete with an elaborate map, headed: 'This is how Putin could annihilate Ukraine.' It set out the supposed positions of Russian troops (inside Russia) and detailed a Russian plan for a three-phase attack sometime in the New Year. In this piece the estimated number of Russian troops deployed 'near' the border with Ukraine was upped from 100,000 to a 'potential' 175,000 – a number instantly promoted and repeated, unqualified, across the Western media.

It might now be worth considering some peculiarities about the way this whole Russian-invasion scenario has been put about and how it has been magnified into a threat not just to Ukraine, but also to the EU and to the West as a whole.

First, we have been here before. Back in mid April, it was confidently reported that 100,000 Russian troops were mustering near the border with Ukraine – except that quite soon it transpired that they weren't. Most were at their barracks at least 200 kilometres away. Russia's fervent denials that anything was afoot were dismissed, but there was no advance and, in time, the accusations melted away.

Seven months later, in November, the same number of Russian troops had supposedly been spotted, split between Ukraine's eastern border – in the Donbass – and its northern border. Why was the number suddenly upped to 175,000? Was it because US spy satellites – whose grainy pictures periodically pop up as supporting evidence – really showed this? Or was it perhaps because some Western military experts had argued that a 100,000-strong force was way too small to pacify Ukraine, so the numbers had to look more convincing?

Which leads on to Russia's supposed objective. A favourite Western theory has long been that Putin wants not just to return Ukraine to Russia's sphere of influence – he also wants to rebuild the Soviet Union, restore the Russian Empire, or at the very least to create a new Russia-led federation with Ukraine and Belarus.

Regardless of the presumed end point, however, many Russia-watchers in the West view the current military impasse affecting a small part of Ukraine as generally satisfactory to Moscow. It leaves the Donbass as a familiar 'frozen' conflict in which Russia retains enough leverage to exert influence, with minimal costs in terms of troops, weapons and risk.

So why would Russia even think of invading? And if it did, would it be a full invasion to take Kiev and bring all of Ukraine back into Russia's strategic fold, or an occupation of just the mainly Russian-speaking Donbass? Or is Russia just sabre-rattling in the hope of somehow forcing the Kiev government and / or its Western backers to the negotiating table? There has been no clarity whatsoever on this score.

Quite simply, an invasion, and a winter invasion at that, makes no sense. The last thing Russia wants or needs is more territory. It can be argued that there was a strategic imperative for Moscow to annex Crimea – to secure its warm-water base at Sevastopol and its hinterland, which it saw as possibly falling into NATO hands. There is no such imperative to take the Donbass; it would be an unstable drain on Russia's resources for the foreseeable future. Russia's prime need is for a stable border region.

And this highlights another peculiarity. From the start, this whole Russia-invasion story, from April this year onwards, has been entirely in one direction – from the US, and then moving eastward across Europe. Ukraine itself, and its leaders, no strangers to alarmism, have maintained an almost surreal calm. When President Volodymyr Zelensky mentioned Russian troop movements for the first time this November, he noted the information had been passed on by US intelligence. No changes in Russia's troop dispensations or in supplies to the rebels seem to have been registered by Ukraine's own – always active, alert and at times inventive – secret services.

 

Russia also took the accusations with more equanimity than it sometimes does – which, of course, invites the West to conclude that US intelligence has got Moscow bang to rights. But its messages in recent weeks have also been unusually clear. It has denied any aggressive intent, blaming the West for trying to incite tensions. It has stated that a sovereign country has the right to move forces within its borders (which it does). But it has also, and crucially, said in no uncertain terms that for Ukraine to join NATO would, for Russia, constitute a 'red line'. All this should leave no doubt that Moscow is in reactive, not proactive, mode.

Logic might also dictate that if anyone has a motive to launch a new military action now, it would be the Kiev government, freshly equipped with military equipment from the UK and the US. After seven years of intermittent fighting, it could finally judge – or have been persuaded – that force is the only way to reclaim the rebel regions in the east. Indeed, that it could be now or never.

Look again not just at the recent Western statements of support for Ukraine and the sabre-rattling against Russia that accompanies them, but also to Western actions over recent months. There are the defence agreements with Ukraine on the part of the US and the UK, the multiple NATO land and sea manoeuvres, including in western Ukraine and the Black Sea, and the current dispositions of NATO forces (including, officially for training purposes, at bases inside Ukraine and, officially for advisory purposes, actually inside Ukraine's defence ministry). Then there are the recent US weapons supplies, including Javelin missiles, the Turkish supplies of drones, and an agreement with the UK on building warships. If you are sitting in Moscow, Ukraine starts to look very much like a NATO Trojan horse.

Is it so unreasonable to ask who is threatening whom here? Who is on offence – and who on defence? Anyone who notes Russian troop movements, within however many kilometres from Ukraine, should also look to the west of Ukraine, where NATO forces have been stationed since the alliance was enlarged to include most of the former Warsaw Pact and Yugoslav states (with Ukraine and the flaky Belarus constituting the only buffers).

From Moscow's perspective, it is a travesty of recent history for NATO, with the US, the UK and former Eastern bloc states holding the megaphones, to denounce Russia as an expansionist power. The annexation of Crimea in 2014 aside, Russia has been contracting for the past 30 years, including the past 11 years under Putin.

From NATO troop movements Russia might also divine other reasons for the West's war-talk than an invasion threat to Ukraine. Could the alarms sounded first in Washington provide cover for a Western-backed attempt to 'change the facts on the ground'? Could Russia perhaps be tricked into a move that it would see as defensive and NATO would present as aggression? Remember that incident last summer with the British warship in the Black Sea.

In my view, and it is only my view, Russia might not be averse to a deal that would bring peace to the Donbass and leave it in Ukraine. But it would aim to secure guarantees for the Russian-speaking population (as the UK tried to do for British nationals in Hong Kong before the return to China and would doubtless try to secure for Brits in Northern Ireland in the event of Irish unification). Russia would be far less amenable to the Donbass being reincorporated into Ukraine by force, still less with Western help. It would see that – probably rightly – both as a humiliation and as presaging instability for years to come.

The bigger context is the current state of US-Russia relations. The speed with which this week's summit was arranged hints at a lot going on behind the scenes. Ukraine does not like it, but hardly for the first time its future is tied up in a bigger game. It is one of the last pieces in the chess game that has been in progress since the end of the Cold War and the Soviet collapse.

Russia would dearly like a pan-European security agreement that would enshrine a US commitment to no further NATO expansion. This combines an old idea dating back to Gorbachev with Russia's newly articulated 'red line' over Ukraine, and the West has ruled both elements out.

But could Biden and Putin, who both face re-election in 2024, be looking for a legacy agreement that would set Western-Russia relations on a new course? If so, it is no wonder that both sides are posturing to maximise their advantage. As the invasion-talk shows, however, posturing is a risky business, not least because there are real people and a real country, Ukraine, in the middle.

Mary Dejevsky is a writer and broadcaster. She was Moscow correspondent for The Times between 1988 and 1992. She has also been a correspondent from Paris, Washington and China.

 

All pictures by: Getty.

To enquire about republishing spiked's content, a right to reply or to request a correction, please contact the managing editor, Viv Regan.

 

December 05, 2021

Vuk Vuksanovic: Russia's gas gift to Serbia comes with strings attached

Russia's gas gift to Serbia comes with strings attached | View

Comments

 04/12/2021 - 18:29

By Vuk Vuksanovic

 

Opinions expressed in View articles are solely those of the authors.

Serbian President Aleksandar Vučić had a very unpleasant task when he met his Russian counterpart Vladimir Putin in Sochi last week to plea for a lower price for Russian gas.

Indeed, before travelling to Russia, President Vučić had told the Serbian press that he would "ask and beg."

In the end, Putin fulfilled the request of his Serbian guest, meaning the Serbian president will have one less problem to worry about ahead of the April 2022 Serbian general election.

However, the question remains as to whether there will be a price to be paid.

Serbia's gas supply on the line

Why was this an unpleasant task for Vučić? Serbia is completely dependent on Russia for its gas supplies.

In 2008, Russia acquired majority shares in NIS, Serbia's national oil and gas company. The sale was made below market price, in return for Russia's protection at the UN level on Kosovo and the promise that Moscow would construct the now-defunct South Stream pipeline over Serbian territory. The opening of the Turkstream pipeline in 2021 confirmed the reality of energy dependence.

However, in light of the ongoing energy crisis in Europe, Serbia now fears high Russian gas prices.

In 2022, Serbia is poised to undergo presidential and parliamentary elections, as well as elections in the capital, Belgrade.

Cars roll on a highway in the morning in Belgrade, Serbia, on Friday, Oct. 29Darko Vojinovic/AP

President Vučić and his Serbian Progressive Party (SNS) are almost certain to win. But both still face the challenges of the COVID-19 pandemic and the economy, which must not experience a major downturn until after they consolidate power.

The Serbian leadership needs to show that despite the pandemic, the economy is still growing. That was the primary reason why the government enthusiastically embraced Chinese financing, despite the ensuing degradation of environmental and labour standards.

The UAE is also useful as a source of cash and an instrument of domestic promotion. However, the high gas price would complicate things.

The first reason for Vučić's concern was more immediate: the start of the cold season. High gas prices lead to higher costs for heating, electricity and groceries: all the things voters observe in the run-up to elections. In mid-November, high food and energy prices pushed the inflation rate to 6.6 per cent.

Serbian pro-government daily Večernje novosti, despite being known for uncritical and hyperbolic praise of Serbian leadership and Serbo-Russian ties, gave an accurate overview of Serbia's concern ahead of the Putin-Vučić meeting.

Serbian gas consumption has doubled compared to previous years. Serbia has been paying Russia $270 (€239) per 1,000 cubic meters because, since the Soviet days, Serbia bought Russian gas based on a system whereby 100 per cent of the pricing is derived from the oil formula.

In light of the energy crisis, Russia's state-owned energy corporation Gazprom proposed that price be determined 30 per cent by oil formula, 70 per cent by spot market prices, which would see Serbia newly charged $790 (€698) per 1,000 cubic meters.

This is too much for the Serbian leadership. So too is the alternative proposal, whereby the price would be determined 70 per cent by oil formula and 30 per cent by spot market prices: all in all, $510 (€451) per 1,000 cubic meters.

Not such an easy task

The Serbian head of state was hoping to secure a new arrangement, in which Serbia would be buying three billion cubic meters of Russian natural gas annually for ten years.

Pro-government media in Serbia flaunted the notion that Vučić could secure a fairer Russian gas price than countries like Germany, Belarus and Armenia had.

The difference was that Germany is a major customer of Russian gas, with a long-term supply contract, and Belarus and Armenia are Russia's allies in the post-Soviet space.

More importantly, while Serbia insisted the focus would be on gas supply, Russia's presidential spokesman Dmitry Peskov stated that the two leaders would be discussing bilateral ties, with energy being just one of the issues that would be addressed.

Why is this important? For the past year, Serbia did a slight re-pivot towards Russia due to the election of Joe Biden in the US. However, 2020 was a very bad year for Serbo-Russian ties. Putin did not forget that.

Russian President Vladimir Putin, right, and Serbian President Aleksandar Vucic speak during their meeting in SochiMikhail Klimentyev/Sputnik via AP

What happened in 2020? Putin did not like the idea that Vučić was trying to resolve the Kosovo dispute with Donald Trump's assistance, which would mean Moscow would lose one of its last assets in the Balkans, and Belgrade's shifting towards Washington.

To curry favour with the West, pro-government tabloids in Serbia blamed pro-Russian players for instigating violent anti-lockdown protests in the summer of 2020.

Trilateral military drills with Russia and Belarus were also cancelled. In the meantime, China replaced Russia as Serbia's primary non-Western partner.

Putin did not forget how Vučić tried to trick him when he thought he would get a better bargain from the West. The meeting was almost certainly used to discipline Vučić.

Nevertheless, Vučić got what he wanted. After the meeting, it was announced that the gas price for Serbia would remain at $270 and the amount of delivered gas would increase for the next six months.

No one knows what will happen after those six months end. But Vučić got a gift from Putin for the heating season -- and for the elections. Vučić can also promote himself to his constituents as a skillful leader who enjoys the friendship of brotherly Russia.

A Serbian flag is seen on a gas pipe on the first section of the Gazprom South Stream natural gas pipeline, 80km north of BelgradeDarko Vojinovic/AP

What were the concessions offered?

It should be presumed, though, that Putin's gift comes with strings attached.

On that same day, news started circulating that Russia's state nuclear construction company Rosatom could be constructing a nuclear power plant in Serbia, although Serbian experts don't believe Serbia has the necessary expertise or resources for such an enterprise.

Russian companies are also set to get the job of constructing the Belgrade urban and suburban railway system.

Most importantly, there are talks that Serbia might be getting Kornet anti-tank missile systems from Russia: a dangerous scenario since in late 2019, Serbia, in fear of US sanctions, gave up on purchasing Russian weaponry.

It remains to be seen whether these transactions will be completed, and indeed whether any other favours that Vučić promised to Putin will be uncovered later in the game. After all, there's no such thing as a free lunch.

Vuk Vuksanovic is a researcher at the Belgrade Centre for Security Policy (BCSP) and an associate of LSE IDEAS, a foreign policy think-tank of the London School of Economics and Political Science (LSE). He got his PhD in international relations at the LSE. He has published widely on modern foreign and security policy issues.

https://www.euronews.com/2021/12/04/russia-s-gas-gift-to-serbia-comes-with-strings-attached-view