With the United States pushing Russia and Ukraine to de-escalate their war, debates over the terms of a ceasefire — and eventually a larger peace deal — have taken center stage. But behind the scenes, there are signs of a larger negotiation taking shape, one that would not merely inform the future of Ukraine but rather that of much larger swaths of the world. On April 21, The Moscow Times, an independent online media outlet based in the Netherlands, reported that the Kremlin sees talks to wind down the war in Ukraine as part of a grand bargain with the White House to define a clear Russian sphere of influence in which Moscow would have primacy. Citing multiple unnamed but supposedly informed Russian sources, the paper wrote that Russian government officials want the United States to recognize Russia's full dominance over post-Soviet countries and some degree of influence in Europe; in exchange, the Kremlin has supposedly mobilized a cross-government effort to find incentives to offer the White House, which would presumably be granted its own sphere of influence in the Americas.
Even if the precise terms alleged in the media report are not accurate, the story echoes public statements from the Kremlin itself and fits a recent pattern in which government officials, scholars, commentators, media outlets and other observers (including we at RANE) are theorizing about the future of the international order and potentially a clearer return of spheres of influence. To some extent, these spheres already exist. But what Russia is allegedly proposing appears far different: a clear understanding with the United States that each side gets to do as it pleases in its dominion without outside interference. At least from the U.S. perspective, this would be a very large shift in that it would recognize a part of the world in which the United States would forswear influence. If handled carefully and coherently, the evolution towards such a world offers an opportunity to bring about greater stability, but over time — and especially if mishandled — it is much more likely to result in greater volatility.
What Is Old Is New Again
Spheres of influence have been used throughout global history to help bring a semblance of order to the international system. In each era, they have looked different. For instance, they have sometimes involved formal agreements, but in others have relied upon de facto understandings. In some cases, they have involved direct military conquest, in others they have relied upon coercive political and economic influence short of physical conflict. At their core, they involve great powers dividing up territory so that each has primacy in a certain region where it is ostensibly free to do what it wishes without outside interference.
Although U.S. President Donald Trump's second term is still in its infancy and his administration is struggling to lay out a coherent foreign policy strategy, its preferences appear to align with a sphere of influence model to organize the world. From Trump's perspective, the United States is overstretched — financially, militarily and otherwise — and should more ruthlessly concentrate on a narrower set of foreign policy priorities and geographic areas. This would involve retreating from certain parts of the globe to allow the United States to focus on its own sphere of influence — namely, an expansive interpretation of the Western Hemisphere. This harks back to the Monroe Doctrine of 1823, when then-President James Monroe aimed to stop European powers from encroaching into what he declared was an American sphere of influence in exchange for the United States not interfering in European affairs. Trump said as much in his first term, when in 2018 he gave a speech at the United Nations declaring the doctrine to be "the formal policy of our country." Now, however, Trump is showing signs of making good on this.
In just over 100 days in office, Trump has made clear that he envisions U.S. primacy over Canada, Greenland, Panama and more generally an expansive view of North America. Even if his territorial threats do not result in the actual use of force, he is floating neo-imperialist ambitions about a regional U.S. sphere of influence. Simultaneously, Trump has made clear that he aims to retrench U.S. power from large parts of the world, be it by bringing troops back home, cutting foreign aid or otherwise. In the resulting vacuum, Trump either wants allies and partners to step in, as is the case in Europe, or does not appear to care sufficiently about what replaces U.S. influence because he views these places as peripheral, such as in sub-Saharan Africa.
To be sure, it is unclear if the Trump administration is truly jettisoning the balance of power strategy that has underpinned most recent U.S. foreign policy strategy, let alone if it would accede to a Russian proposal for an uncontested sphere of influence in the post-Soviet space. But with Trump throwing decades of traditional U.S. foreign policies into flux, it is understandable why the Kremlin senses an opportunity. After all, for a White House trying to navigate the erosion of the U.S. post-Cold War unipolarity and the emergence of a more competitive multipolar order, a sphere of influence model in which the United States and Russia formally recognize each other's spheres would be appealing in granting the United States explicit dominance over its regional domain while letting Russia do the same over its own.
Good Fences Make Good Neighbors
In theory, defined U.S. and Russian spheres of influence could pave the way for greater cooperation between Moscow and Washington, significantly lessening tensions that have repeatedly flared over the past two decades. Such an outcome would not merely benefit both countries, but in reducing the risk of military confrontation between the two great powers would presumably also make other countries safer, at least those outside each's sphere of influence.
Handled carefully, clearer defined spheres of influence could also open the door to joint efforts in other areas, including achieving the ostensible chief foreign policy goals of the Trump administration. For instance, better defined spheres of influence could reduce Russia's security concerns and result in Moscow being more open to Washington's efforts to contain China, especially as time passes and Russia sees China more as a competitor than a partner given growing Russian economic dependence on China and competition for influence across the Arctic, Central Asia and the Russian Far East. The Kremlin might also be more willing to lean on countries where it has various levels of influence — like Iran, North Korea and Venezuela — to help the White House achieve its key goals with governments in those places. And a Russia that is more secure in its near-abroad could result in less antagonism towards Europe, especially if the Trump administration can convince (or coerce) Europeans to take over the burden of enforcing Europe's own sphere of influence.
Of course, all of this is theoretical and would take many years to play out, but in some respects, a well-handled U.S. transition towards a sphere of influence strategy vis-a-vis Russia could result in direct benefits for both countries and spillover benefits for others.
The Devil Is in the Details
The (large) challenge, however, is that, even if this is the goal, there are strong reasons to doubt this transition can be handled adeptly — and if so, whether the results would bring stability. First, at least thus far, the Trump administration has not shown itself to be bureaucratically up to the task. Such a complex transition would require a multifaceted and synchronized effort across the U.S. government in which different components and leaders speak with one voice and pursue common goals. Yet, the infighting, mixed messaging and leaking that thus far characterize the second Trump administration suggest it would struggle to do so. Doing so would also require getting close allies and partners onboard so that they could play their parts in their respective regions, yet thus far the White House's policies seem only to be alienating those countries — particularly, European states — that would be most crucial in realizing such a vision.
But even if these stumbling blocks were overcome, a U.S.-Russian understanding about distinct spheres of influence would, over time, carry a high risk of engendering greater volatility rather than less. First, in an age of multipolarity, a host of other great and rising middle powers would likely not only contest any U.S.-Russian effort, but also seek their own sphere of influence. China would presumably want dominance in at least East Asia, something that would not sit well with Japan and South Korea. Beijing also would not accept Russian primacy over Central Asia, where China is becoming increasingly influential. While greater tension between Beijing and Moscow could work in Washington's favor, more intense rivalry between those two great powers would also entail a greater risk of kinetic conflict, or at least friction, that could lead to debilitating instability that eventually ropes in the United States or at least undercuts the idea that a sphere of influence strategy would make the world more stable. Nor, for instance, would Turkey, which itself is increasingly staking out a claim to regional leadership, accept a Russian sphere of influence that included the Caucasus. Turkey and other regional powers like the United Arab Emirates would also compete over who has primacy in the Levant. Meanwhile, what sort of influence Europe would tolerate Russia having on its borders is deeply uncertain. And the list goes on.
Moreover, competition between the United States and Russia would not merely disappear forever. For one thing, given the historical baggage and global interests, there is no guarantee that one side would not merely directly violate the terms of any deal. Even if this did not happen, crises would inevitably arise along the hazy boundaries of their respective spheres of influence, where it would be unclear just how far each country's primacy extends. More significantly, even if both sides temporarily backed down from competition in each other's spheres, history shows that such a detente is unlikely to last, especially in third areas. For instance, both countries (and a host of others) would likely compete for influence in strategic regions, like the Persian Gulf states. They would also extend their competition beyond Earth to space, where the race to gain access and militarize the domain will become more intense in the coming years. At a minimum, these pressures would introduce more volatility and, over time, the likelihood of direct military confrontation would grow.
Furthermore, a division of the world into spheres of influence would presumably result in shocks to the global economy, which is already struggling to adjust to a multipolar world of eroding global governance, rising nationalism and deeper uncertainty. Businesses likely would have to spend more time and resources setting up new supply chains, which would presumably be less efficient. And consumers would likely suffer from fewer choices, higher prices and/or worse quality for some goods and services.
Finally, any understanding between Moscow and Washington would be subject to the future whims of the occupants of the Kremlin and White House. Currently, Russian President Vladimir Putin defines his country and its foreign policy, but at some point he will no longer be leading the government. Who follows him and what their policies will be is anyone's guess. Even before then, the period after his death, incapacitation or fall from power for other reasons could see significant turbulence as different factions jockey for power. This could open the door to multiple scenarios in which his replacement (or those competing to succeed him) use Russian military power in ways that upend any understanding over spheres of influence. The same is true for Trump's longevity. The excesses of his administration could easily see the next occupant of the Oval Office be a Democrat with vastly different ideas about U.S. foreign policy, or a more traditional Republican who is hawkish against Russia; either could quickly disregard any previous accommodation.
Mackinder's World?
Russia's vision of a sphere of influence across the post-Soviet region recalls late 19th and early 20th century British geographer Halford Mackinder's concept of the "Heartland," the Eurasian geographic space roughly aligned with the territory that would form contemporary Russia's claimed sphere of influence — and which Mackinder theorized would be crucial to facilitate world domination. Even if they did not explicitly use this terminology or espouse precisely this view, U.S. leaders since then have sought to prevent a great power from dominating Eurasia — chiefly, Germany or the Soviet Union — as they have assessed that its control by a singular power would pose grave threats to U.S. national security. Perhaps not immediately, but eventually.
Today, as the White House grapples with how to devise and implement a foreign policy strategy that fits the current multipolar world order, a sphere of influence model could be an appealing structure to enable Washington to pare back its expenses to focus on its own near abroad where it would be free from foreign interference, in exchange for leaving other great powers to do the same in theirs. As history has repeatedly demonstrated, however, spheres of influence are generally only temporary stabilizers and, over time, become much more dynamic — and, in turn, contested. While the Trump administration does not, at least yet, have a clear vision for both the means and end state of its foreign policy vision, the allure of implementing a sphere of influence model is more likely to disappoint those who may argue that it would create more stability and security. Instead, adopting this model is more likely to lay the groundwork for more volatility in the future.
