By Aigerim Turgunbaeva

On February 10, 2026, President Sadyr Japarov abruptly dismissed his longtime ally and security chief Kamchybek Tashiev while the latter was undergoing medical treatment in Munich, Germany. At the time, the move appeared sudden but limited in scope. Two months on, it has become clear that this decision marked the beginning of a far more consequential transformation. On April 29, formal charges including high treason were brought against Tashiev, effectively sealing the end of the informal tandem that had defined Kyrgyz politics for over five years.

What followed was not merely a leadership reshuffle, but the systematic dismantling of the informal tandem that had structured Kyrgyzstan’s political system since the 2020 upheaval. The trigger appears to have been a petition signed by 75 public figures on February 9 calling for early presidential elections. Within days, key elements of Tashiev’s institutional base were reconfigured; within weeks, his network came under sustained pressure; and by early April, the arrest of his brother Shairbek Tashiev on corruption charges underscored the depth of the ongoing purge.

Photo by AlexelA, February 7, 2019

BACKGROUND:

The removal of Tashiev did not simply eliminate a powerful figure. It disrupted a governance mechanism that balanced regional elites, distributed control over the security apparatus, and contained intra-elite competition. In its place, a more centralized and personalized presidential vertical is taking shape. This consolidation may enhance short-term governability yet it also raises deeper questions about systemic resilience.

Following the October 2020 political upheaval, Kyrgyzstan’s executive system coalesced around an informal dual structure. By 2021, this arrangement, widely referred to domestically as eki dos (“two friends”), had become the de facto governing model of the post-revolutionary order.

At its core, the tandem between Japarov and Kamchybek Tashiev represented an informal division of political labor rather than a codified institutional framework. Japarov retained formal constitutional authority and served as the public face of the state. Tashiev, appointed head of the State Committee for National Security (GKNB) in October 2020 and later elevated to deputy chairman of the Cabinet of Ministers, gradually consolidated control over the security apparatus, anti-corruption campaigns, and elite discipline. By 2022, the GKNB had dramatically expanded its mandate into economic, educational, and even diplomatic spheres.

By 2023–2024, the tandem had evolved into a key stabilizing mechanism for managing Kyrgyzstan’s persistent regional cleavages. Japarov, widely associated with northern networks, and Tashiev, whose base was rooted in Osh and Jalal-Abad, together helped contain long-standing north–south tensions, bridging geographic and clan-based divisions that had historically fueled political instability.

This political arrangement coincided with notable macroeconomic stabilization and rapid growth. Between 2022 and 2025, Kyrgyzstan recorded average annual real GDP growth of approximately 10.2 percent — one of the highest rates in the region — with growth reaching 11.1 percent in 2025. Nominal GDP approximately doubled over the period, driven by remittances, cross-border trade, and state reassertion over strategic assets including the Kumtor gold mine.

By 2025, however, the same personalization that had enabled short-term stability exposed the system’s structural vulnerability. As Tashiev’s institutional profile grew, at times appearing to rival the president’s, latent tensions within the duumvirate became harder to ignore. What had begun as a complementary partnership gradually transformed into a delicate balance whose rupture would reshape the entire political architecture.

The breakdown did not occur as a single rupture, but as a carefully sequenced series of moves. The process was triggered on February 9, 2026, when a group of 75 prominent public figures, intellectuals, and former officials published an open petition calling for early presidential elections. The very next day, President Japarov dismissed Tashiev from his positions as GKNB chairman and deputy cabinet chief. At the time, Tashiev was in Munich receiving medical treatment, a circumstance that allowed the dismissal to be executed swiftly and with minimal immediate resistance.

The official justification cited the need to “optimize state structures and improve administrative efficiency.” However, the speed and coordination of subsequent steps pointed to a deeper recalibration. Within days, key elements of the GKNB’s institutional portfolio, border security, protective services, and several operational departments, were restructured and transferred to direct presidential oversight or newly appointed loyalists.

Throughout late February and March, pressure expanded to Tashiev’s broader network. A wave of dismissals and corruption investigations targeted officials linked to his circle. On March 16, the State Tax Service released a widely publicized video accusing members of the Tashiev family of large-scale corruption. This reconfiguration fundamentally changed the mechanics of the post-tandem order. The sequence reached a symbolic climax on April 1 with the arrest of Shairbek Tashiev, signaling that the purge had extended beyond formal institutional roles into the informal family-based networks underpinning the tandem’s influence. By early May, the dual governance structure had been replaced by a more centralized configuration, with key security and elite-management functions brought under direct presidential control.

IMPLICATIONS:

The dismantling of the tandem has not been accompanied by institutional pluralization. Instead, it has accelerated the emergence of a more vertically integrated and personalized executive structure. Under the tandem, regional and factional elites could navigate between two centers of power. In the new single-center model, that balancing function has been internalized within the presidency. The space for autonomous maneuvering by mid-level and regional actors has noticeably narrowed.

The most immediate fault line concerns regional political balance. Tashiev’s strong southern base, particularly in Osh, Jalal-Abad, and Batken, helped integrate southern elites into the national power structure and reduced perceptions of northern dominance. His removal risks generating a sense of marginalization among influential southern networks, especially if future cadre or economic policies are perceived as favoring northern interests.

A second vulnerability lies within the security apparatus. The post-February restructuring has concentrated decision-making and personnel appointments within a single presidential vertical. While this may improve operational unity, it also raises risks of groupthink and loyalty-based rather than competence-based appointments, as well as potential fractures if mid-level security officers begin to question their long-term prospects under the new order.

A third risk relates to elite cohesion. With patronage concentrated in one node, loyalty becomes more brittle and hypersensitive to signals of favoritism or weakness at the top. Open opposition remains unlikely in the near term, but latent uncertainty or quiet realignment toward alternative centers of influence could gradually erode regime cohesion.

The new model also carries implications for economic management. While the tandem period delivered impressive growth, averaging around 10.2 percent annually between 2022 and 2025, much of this expansion relied on informal elite bargains, selective redistribution, and state oversight of strategic sectors. The removal of the secondary power center risks disrupting these arrangements, potentially affecting investor confidence and the predictability of the business climate.

Kyrgyzstan’s shift toward a more centralized and personalized executive model reflects broader patterns across Central Asia. In systems where stability has historically depended on informal balancing mechanisms, the removal of such mechanisms tends to increase reliance on centralized authority that is rarely replaced by institutionalized checks and more often succeeded by further personalization. Kyrgyzstan’s abrupt transition from a dual-center model adds a distinct and cautionary variation to this regional pattern.

The real test will come when the new model faces its first significant stress in the form of an economic slowdown, renewed regional tensions, or questions of political succession, without the informal safety valve the tandem once provided. Concerns about potential instability disrupting joint infrastructure projects, including the China–Kyrgyzstan–Uzbekistan railway, have circulated among regional capitals. For major external powers, including Russia, China, and Western actors, the Kyrgyz case serves as a reminder that predictability in Central Asia often rests more on personal leadership coherence than on robust institutions.

CONCLUSIONS:

Ultimately, the dismantling of the Japarov-Tashiev tandem marks not only the end of a specific five-year political arrangement, but Kyrgyzstan’s transition to a more singular and vertically integrated model of governance. The central question going forward is not whether this model will consolidate authority — it already has — but whether it can sustain long-term stability without the informal balancing mechanisms that previously underpinned it. In the volatile political ecology of Central Asia, such experiments in personalization carry both the promise of stronger executive control and the latent risk of heightened fragility.

AUTHOR’S BIO: 

Aigerim Turgunbaeva, is a journalist and researcher focusing on Central Asia. Aigerim writes about press freedom, human rights, and politics in the former Soviet space, and delves into China’s interests in the region for publications including Reuters, The New York Times, The Diplomat, The Guardian, and Eurasianet.

By Giorgi Gvalia and Ivane Lomidze

Georgia’s foreign policy thinking is undergoing a notable shift. For much of the past two decades, the country’s strategic discourse was framed by democratic alignment and Euro-Atlantic integration. Today, however, the rhetoric of the ruling elite increasingly reflects a geopolitical logic, emphasizing survival, insecurity, and strategic calculation over value-based commitments. This shift is understandable for a small state operating in a highly vulnerable security environment. Yet the emerging approach also reveals an important limitation. While focused on avoiding risks vis-à-vis Russia, Georgia’s leadership gives insufficient attention to the equally important need to preserve and balance relations with Western partners that remain essential to Georgia’s long-term security, prosperity, and independence.

 Photo by Czerep rubaszny, 2020

BACKGROUND:

Georgia’s foreign policy has long been associated with a clear strategic orientation toward Europe and the transatlantic community. For years, the dominant language of Georgian statecraft emphasized democratic reform, integration with Western institutions, and a value-based foreign policy identity. That discourse has not disappeared entirely, but it is no longer the main organizing principle of the ruling elite’s public messaging. Especially since Russia’s full-scale war against Ukraine, senior representatives of ruling Georgian Dream party have described foreign policy in much starker terms: the state must avoid steps that could trigger retaliation from Russia and must calibrate every decision with extreme caution.

This shift is rooted in Georgia’s hard security environment. Russia still occupies Abkhazia and South Ossetia and remains the overwhelmingly dominant military power in the region. The memory of the 2008 war continues to shape official thinking in Tbilisi, especially the lesson that strong Western political backing does not automatically translate into direct security protection. Against that background, the government has argued that Georgia cannot afford symbolic gestures that carry unclear benefits but potentially serious costs.

That logic was most clearly visible in the government’s refusal to impose sanctions on Russia after the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Georgian officials have maintained that the country has cooperated with international efforts to prevent sanctions circumvention, but they have resisted taking additional unilateral steps that could be interpreted by Moscow as escalation. From the government’s perspective, such caution is not ideological sympathy for Russia but a practical response to Georgia’s exposed position. The argument is simple: a small country with occupied territories, no formal security guarantees, and limited means of self-defense should avoid unnecessary confrontation with a stronger and hostile neighbor.

This position has domestic resonance. Many Georgians remain deeply pro-Western, but there is also broad public sensitivity to the risks of war and instability. The government has used that sentiment to justify a foreign policy of restraint, presenting itself as the actor most capable of keeping Georgia out of the wider regional conflicts. In that sense, Georgian Dream’s message is not only strategic but political: it links restraint abroad to stability at home. The result is a more defensive and geopolitical foreign policy vocabulary than the one that dominated Georgian politics in the previous decades.

IMPLICATIONS:

The problem with Georgia’s current course is not that it recognizes geopolitical reality. Any rational Georgian foreign policy must take account of Russian power and the risks of direct confrontation. The problem, rather, is that the government appears to treat this as its overriding strategic priority, while underestimating the cost of alienating the Western partners that help Georgia offset its structural weakness. For small states, survival cannot be reduced to managing immediate threats alone. It also requires maintaining the external relationships that expand their room for maneuver and reduce the risk of abandonment.

Any viable national strategy must therefore be assessed along two dimensions simultaneously: whether it mitigates immediate threats and whether it preserves the external relationships on which long-term autonomy and resilience depend. In practice, this requires small states to reduce risks while sustaining partnerships that provide economic, political, and – over time – security support. However, recent developments suggest that Georgia’s current strategy has managed only one side of this equation. In other words, the government’s strategy appears to have minimized certain risks while simultaneously generating others. By prioritizing the avoidance of confrontation with Russia, Georgian Dream has struggled to maintain the political trust and strategic confidence of its Western partners.

Over the past years, Georgia’s relations with the West have deteriorated significantly. This trend has become increasingly visible in tensions surrounding Georgia’s EU candidacy process, the controversy over the “foreign agents” law, and growing Western criticism of the country’s political trajectory. Government officials have largely attributed this deterioration to Western pressure – particularly from the EU – for Georgia to adopt a harder line against Russia, including the imposition of unilateral sanctions following the invasion of Ukraine. However, that explanation is incomplete. Disagreements over sanctions policy alone do not account for the depth of mistrust that has emerged. Even where Tbilisi may have had legitimate reasons to resist certain Western demands, such differences could likely have been managed more effectively through sustained political engagement and clearer strategic communication. So far, Georgian Dream has not convincingly demonstrated that it has invested sufficient diplomatic effort in explaining Georgia’s security concerns to its Western partners while maintaining their confidence in the country’s broader strategic direction.

This matters because, for Georgia, relations with the West are not just symbolic. The EU remains central to Georgia’s trade, institutional modernization, and broader economic orientation. The U.S. has played a major role in strengthening Georgia’s state institutions and defense capacity. These links are not simply a matter of identity or values; they are practical assets that increase Georgia’s room for maneuver in a difficult neighborhood. If those relationships weaken, Georgia does not become more secure or more autonomous. It becomes more exposed.

The costs could rise further as the regional environment changes. Georgian policymakers have sought to position the country as a key corridor between Europe and Asia, especially through transit and connectivity projects crossing the South Caucasus. But Georgia’s geographic importance should not be taken for granted. Progress in the Armenia-Azerbaijan peace process and the discussion of alternative transport routes could gradually reduce Georgia’s comparative advantage as a regional connector. If Georgia’s strategic value becomes less automatic, the quality of its political ties with Western actors will matter even more.

For Georgia, geopolitical thinking remains unavoidable. Geography and power asymmetries ensure that any responsible foreign policy must account for the risks posed by Russia. The real challenge, however, is how to apply that thinking in a way that manages immediate security threats while preserving the partnerships that remain essential for Georgia’s long-term prosperity and independence. For a small state caught between powerful neighbors and strategic partners, the art of survival lies precisely in maintaining that balance.

CONCLUSIONS:

Georgia’s foreign policy is entering a new phase defined less by idealistic rhetoric and more by the language of risk, constraint, and survival. That adjustment is understandable. Russia’s military presence on Georgian territory and the wider regional security climate leave little room for carelessness. But this approach, if applied too narrowly, can ultimately undermine its own objectives.

It is sensible to avoid policies that would impose immediate and disproportionate costs on the state. However, such caution is insufficient if it rests on the assumption that prudence vis-à-vis Russia alone can secure Georgia’s future. Over the longer term, the country’s sovereignty and prosperity remain closely tied to the preservation of robust relations with the West. If Tbilisi cannot preserve those ties while managing Russian pressure, it will trade one form of vulnerability for another. For Georgia, the central challenge of statecraft lies not merely in avoiding conflict in the present, but in doing so without eroding the external partnerships upon which its future security and development depend.

AUTHOR’S BIO: 

Giorgi Gvalia is Professor of International Relations and Jean Monnet Chair at Ilia State University in Tbilisi, specializing in small-state foreign policy, Realist IR theory, and South Caucasus geopolitics. Ivane Lomidze is Associate Professor of Sociology at Ilia State University, whose work focuses on the normative and theoretical foundations of political realism.

By Suren Sargsyan 

The U.S.–Iran conflict, along with repeated failed negotiations, shows no clear path to resolution, and its future trajectory, consequences, and broader implications remain uncertain. Although a substantial body of research and commentary seeks to forecast developments in the Middle East, there is limited analysis of how this conflict may affect the South Caucasus, particularly in terms of future U.S. engagement in the region and the prospects of the Trump Route for International Peace and Prosperity (TRIPP) project. From Tehran’s perspective, TRIPP may constitute a legitimate target, as it conflicts directly with Iranian interests. It is therefore essential to assess the risks that the Iran–U.S./Israel conflict poses to the TRIPP project.

BACKGROUND:

A defining feature of the Trump administration, distinguishing it from its predecessors, is a marked increase in U.S. engagement with the South Caucasus. This was demonstrated by the approval of the TRIPP project and the announcement of peace between Armenia and Azerbaijan under U.S. mediation. However, U.S. involvement in the region clearly extends beyond relations with Armenia and Azerbaijan alone.

The implementation of TRIPP also aligns with broader U.S. regional interests, particularly in terms of isolating Iran. Currently, Azerbaijan’s shortest direct land connection to its exclave, Nakhichevan, runs through Iranian territory. If implemented, TRIPP would enable Azerbaijan to reduce its reliance on Iran by providing an alternative route. Such a development would also diminish Iran’s importance for Armenia, making Yerevan less dependent on the Iran–Armenia border, especially if accompanied by substantive progress in Armenia–Turkey relations, a goal the U.S. has supported since the George H. W. Bush administration.

Therefore, TRIPP should not be understood merely as a mechanism for regulating Armenian–Azerbaijani relations through the establishment of direct connectivity between the two states. Rather, it should be viewed as a broader geopolitical project, which will among other outcomes diminish the strategic significance of Iran for both Armenia and Azerbaijan, particularly by reducing their reliance on shared borders and transit routes through Iranian territory.

IMPLICATIONS:

Since the outbreak of the war, the United States and Israel have targeted not only Iranian military assets but also infrastructure of major strategic importance. Iran has incurred substantial losses, including damage to its naval capabilities, the elimination of senior political and military figures, and significant economic disruption. The closure of the Strait of Hormuz has further imposed considerable costs on the Iranian economy. In response, Iran has launched missile strikes not only against Israel but also against U.S. military bases within its operational range, despite these bases being located on the sovereign territory of states that have not formally joined the anti-Iran coalition.

Moreover, Iran has expanded its targeting beyond U.S. military installations in neighboring states to include economic infrastructure linked, directly or indirectly, to U.S. interests. From Iran’s perspective, there appear to be few meaningful geographical constraints. Rather, its strategy is to impose maximum costs not only through direct confrontation but also by targeting U.S.-associated economic projects and interests across the region and its immediate periphery. 

From this perspective, the TRIPP project could also emerge as a potential target. As a major infrastructure initiative involving significant U.S. investment and the presence of U.S. security personnel, it carries clear strategic implications. Therefore, if tensions persist over an extended period and the conflict’s geographical scope expands, it cannot be excluded that this transportation corridor may eventually be targeted by Iran, despite Tehran’s relatively cooperative relations with Armenia.

This risk is underscored by reports of Iranian drones appearing over Azerbaijani territory, developments that have already provoked strong reactions. Although Iran denied these allegations, the incident nevertheless generated significant strain in bilateral relations and may be interpreted as a signal. There is no guarantee that Iran would refrain from deploying drones in the area, conducting limited troop movements, or undertaking other preventive or deterrent measures against the TRIPP project. Such a scenario becomes more plausible if tensions persist, hostilities intensify, and U.S. forces begin targeting Iranian infrastructure that has thus far remained largely intact, including power grids, transportation networks, and other critical facilities.

At the same time, it should be noted that there is currently no official information regarding the status of the project’s construction, at least on Armenian territory, where it is reportedly financed by the U.S. government. Although Armenia’s Foreign Minister has indicated that the intensity of Armenian–U.S. contacts concerning the project has not diminished, he has not addressed the timeline for the implementation of construction activities.

Even a single strike on this corridor would likely make potential investors and commercial actors significantly more cautious about using it for cargo transportation or committing to further infrastructure investments, given the associated security risks. Although detailed data on the expenditures of Armenia and Azerbaijan, along with U.S. contributions, remain unavailable, it is evident that the project entails substantial costs for both countries, even if only part of the planned infrastructure has been completed to date.

Moreover, if the war does not produce a significant systemic transformation in Iran’s regime, an outcome that currently appears unlikely, the project may remain a long-term potential target for Tehran, as it represents a form of U.S. presence in close proximity to the Iranian border. Under such conditions, it would be difficult for Armenia and Azerbaijan to advance the U.S.-mediated peace agenda in the absence of the project’s implementation, as the failure of one of its key components would raise uncertainty about the viability of the broader framework.

CONCLUSIONS:

At present, it is difficult to determine how long the war and/or negotiations with Iran will continue or what their eventual outcome will be. Statements from the Trump administration suggest that a clear strategy or exit plan has yet to be fully articulated. Nevertheless, it is essential to consider Iran’s likely post-war approach toward U.S. economic projects in its immediate vicinity. On the one hand, if the U.S. and Iran reach a peace agreement, the significance of the TRIPP project could be fundamentally transformed, with its purpose and structure potentially redefined, possibly even allowing for Iran’s participation.

On the other hand, if tensions between the United States and Iran remain elevated even after the cessation of active hostilities, Tehran may come to view TRIPP as a legitimate target and act accordingly. In this sense, whereas the project’s future previously depended largely on U.S. policy, it is now also contingent on Iran’s strategic priorities, policy choices, and perceptions of regional dynamics.

Armenian and Azerbaijani authorities have several options to reassure Tehran that the project cannot serve as a basis for a U.S. strategic or military presence in the South Caucasus, nor be used offensively against Iran. Despite relatively stable relations with both Yerevan and Baku, Tehran may still perceive the initiative as a threat to its core strategic interests and border security. In this context, Iran could find a receptive partner in Moscow, which has also expressed skepticism toward the project. At present, however, the implementation timeline has effectively been suspended, with all stakeholders awaiting either stabilization or further escalation.

AUTHOR’S BIO: 

Suren Sargsyan is a PhD candidate Political Science. He holds LLM degrees from Yerevan State University, the American University of Armenia, and Tufts University Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy. He is the director of the Armenian Center for American Studies.

By Laura Linderman and Lydia Sawatsky

The catastrophic flooding that struck Dagestan and northern Azerbaijan in late March and early April 2026, the worst rainfall event the republic has seen in over a century, has done more than damage homes and infrastructure. It has exposed the limits of Russian state capacity on its southern periphery at a moment when Moscow's grip on the wider Caucasus is already loosening, and it has done so along the precise ethnic and territorial seam where the Kremlin has long kept what the Chechen analyst Inal Sherip has called the "Lezgin card" in reserve. The Kremlin's belated and rhetorically defensive response, set against a more coherent Azerbaijani posture to the same storm, will accelerate Baku's strategic recalibration away from Moscow and rearrange political loyalties along the Lezgin cross-border zone in ways Russia has no current means to repair.

BACKGROUND:

Between March 27 and April 8, an unusually intense Caspian cyclone delivered rainfall to Dagestan and northern Azerbaijan that meteorologists in both countries have described as a record-breaking event of a scale not seen in 107 years. At an April 9 meeting on the disaster, Vladimir Putin himself observed that "since meteorological observations began, in 1882, such figures have never been recorded in the region." By that point, at least seven people had been confirmed dead in Dagestan, more than 6,200 had been evacuated, around 1.5 million had been affected in some way, and over 6,000 residential buildings had been damaged or submerged. The Gedzhukh reservoir dam in Derbentsky district was overtopped on April 5, sweeping cars off the federal motorway. Sections of the Caucasus federal motorway and the North Caucasus Railway were severed, and three substations in Makhachkala (Primorskaya, Vostochnaya, and Makhachkala-110) were flooded and temporarily knocked offline. Yuri Chaika, the Presidential Plenipotentiary in the North Caucasus Federal District, put initial damage at over one billion rubles. On April 7, Putin directed the elevation of the regional emergency to federal status, with the formal designation issued by the government commission on April 9.

The same storm did not stop at the international border. In Azerbaijan, it caused fatal flooding in Baku's Yeni-Ramana settlement on March 27 and 28, the death of a man swept away by floodwaters in Gusar district on April 5, and the collapse of a house in Baku's Sabunchu district on the night of April 7. The worst-affected Azerbaijani districts (Gusar, Khachmaz, and Quba) are precisely those where the country's Lezgin minority is most heavily concentrated.

The official Russian response combined high-profile federal visits with a striking reluctance to take responsibility. Emergency Situations Minister Alexander Kurenkov, Construction Minister Irek Faizullin, and Natural Resources Minister Alexander Kozlov all traveled to Dagestan. Sergei Melikov, the head of Dagestan, nevertheless attributed the loss of life among motorists swept off the federal motorway to local "carelessness," and blamed flooding in Makhachkala on "reckless" real estate development. Residents were not persuaded. Novaya Gazeta Europa quoted a resident of Mamedkala who said that the only reason fatalities had not run into the dozens was that locals were pulling each other from the floodwaters themselves. Moscow's instinct to manage the crisis through televised commission meetings rather than visible mobilization on the ground reflects a federal centre that is overstretched, not one choosing restraint.

IMPLICATIONS:

The political significance of the floods extends beyond the disaster itself, because they have arrived at a moment when several reinforcing trends across the Caucasus are converging.

The first is the visible thinness of Russian state capacity outside the Kremlin's core priorities. In the same week Moscow elevated the Dagestan emergency, it absorbed the loss of its last functioning railway ferry across the Kerch Strait to Ukrainian drone strikes. Federal budget transfers, once routine for the North Caucasus, are now constrained by wartime spending and sanctions. Chronic unemployment, entrenched corruption, underdeveloped infrastructure, and reliance on heavy-handed security policies remain unresolved across the North Caucasus, continuing to fuel local grievances. The entire Kadyrov model of patronage-based stability rests on a federal balance sheet that is no longer flush, and the perception of decline now circulates openly in exile and opposition spaces. In late April, the former Chechen deputy prime minister Ruslan Kutaev, who now leads the Assembly of Peoples of the Caucasus, publicly claimed that "everyone knows Putin has lost" and that the great majority of Kadyrov's forces would switch sides at the right moment. The claim is contested, but its open airing is itself a marker of what exile figures now feel free to assert.

The second is the changing posture of Baku. Azerbaijan, hit by the same storm, has handled its response more conventionally. The country has its own constraints; residents in Baku's Yeni-Ramana settlement blocked a road in late March to protest inadequate drainage after rainfall killed two people near a damaged power cable, and Baku city authorities attributed some of the worst flooding to housing built without compliance with safety codes. But Baku has not attributed specific deaths to the carelessness of the dead. Through its Ministry of Emergency Situations, it has evacuated more than 450 people from flood zones, issued regular briefings, announced an expansion of its agricultural insurance regime to cover flood losses on April 8, and on April 28 President Ilham Aliyev allocated 85.9 million manat (approximately 50 million USD) from his reserve fund for flood relief. The political tone in Azerbaijani state media has been one of administrative competence and immediate action rather than recrimination.

This contrast matters because Azerbaijan has spent the past eighteen months systematically distancing itself from Moscow. Following the December 2024 destruction of Azerbaijan Airlines Flight 8243 by Russian air defenses over Grozny, and the June 2025 Yekaterinburg raids in which two ethnic Azerbaijani brothers died in Russian custody, Baku closed the Russian House, suspended Sputnik Azerbaijan, sued Russia internationally, and at the February 2026 Munich Security Conference President Aliyev publicly accused Moscow of three deliberate strikes on Azerbaijani diplomatic facilities in Kyiv. The trajectory has only accelerated. On April 25, four days after the federal emergency was declared in Dagestan, Aliyev hosted Volodymyr Zelensky in Gabala on the Ukrainian leader's first visit to the South Caucasus since the Russian invasion of Ukraine began, and the two presidents signed six bilateral agreements concentrated on defense-industrial cooperation, joint production, and the deployment of Ukrainian drone specialists in Azerbaijan. Every image of Russian inadequacy on Azerbaijan's northern doorstep validates Baku's strategic choice.

Baku's confidence rests on more than rhetoric. The early-2026 strikes on Iran have reduced the third regional power with traditional interests in the borderlands to silence born of weakness rather than restraint, and the Iran war has paralysed the International North-South Transport Corridor through banking and insurance restrictions, redirecting Eurasian cargo to the Trans-Caspian route through Azerbaijan and Kazakhstan, where demand surged 450 to 500 percent in a single week. Baku has also kept its land borders, including with Russia, closed since the COVID-19 pandemic, retaining the closure for political reasons. There are no longer direct flights from Baku to any Dagestani or Chechen city. That Azerbaijan can simultaneously absorb a war next door, manage the diversion of Eurasian transit through its own ports, and project administrative competence in a domestic flood response is itself a measure of how far the regional balance has shifted.

The third element, and the most underappreciated, is the cross-border ethnic dimension. The areas of Dagestan worst affected, Derbentsky and Magaramkentsky districts and the southern coastal belt, are the historic homeland of the Lezgin people, who number roughly 800,000 in southern Dagestan and between 180,000 and 260,000 in northern Azerbaijan. As Sherip notes, demographics heighten fragility: Dagestan alone hosts an Azerbaijani community of roughly 120,000, more than a third of the population of Derbent, while Azerbaijan hosts approximately 250,000 Lezgins and Avars, meaning any cross-border incident would almost inevitably spill across the frontier. Sergei Melikov, notably, is the first ethnic Lezgin to head Dagestan; with a Lezgin father and a Russian mother, he was born in Orekhovo-Zuyevo near Moscow and made his career in the federal security services, with no ties to Dagestan or its local elites before Putin appointed him acting head in October 2020. The Samur River that forms much of the international border is itself part of the flood story. Moscow has historically managed this frontier by holding the "Lezgin card" in reserve, quietly cultivating the Sadval movement and other Lezgin nationalist organizations in the 1990s as leverage against Baku and then letting them wither when Azerbaijani concessions were required. The flood inverts this calculation. A perception that Moscow neither protects nor compensates Lezgins on its side of the border, while Baku at least musters a coherent administrative response on its side, is the kind of fact that reshapes long-term political loyalties at the margins.

The fourth element is recent political memory. The September 2022 anti-mobilization protests in Makhachkala and Endirei were the largest in the North Caucasus and the first significant public unrest in the republic in a decade. They were touched off by the same dynamic now visible in the flood response: a federal centre that extracts more from Dagestan than it provides. The flood does not, by itself, manufacture a protest movement. But the conditions that produced 2022 (the perception of federal extraction, official contempt for local life, and the absence of meaningful Dagestani representation in Moscow's calculations) are all reinforced by what Dagestanis are seeing this month. Dagestan has been disproportionately mobilized for the war in Ukraine, has been chronically underfunded for infrastructure, and is now being told by its own governor that its dead were simply careless.

CONCLUSIONS:

The Dagestan floods of 2026 will not, in themselves, dislodge Sergei Melikov or destabilize the Russian Federation's hold on its southern periphery. Melikov's regional security apparatus remains coherent, and the federal centre has committed visible resources. What the floods will do is accelerate trends already in motion. Baku will read the contrast between the two responses as further confirmation that its strategic distancing from Moscow carries declining costs, a reading already legible in the Gabala signings of April 25. Yerevan, watching from across the South Caucasus, will draw the same conclusion: that a Russian state which cannot compensate flood victims on its own southern periphery is unlikely to provide the security guarantees it has long been asked to provide. The Lezgin cross-border community will quietly absorb the lesson that the federal centre will mobilize cameras before it mobilizes pumps. Western policymakers, who have spent the past year recalibrating their approach to the South Caucasus in the wake of the TRIPP framework and Vice President Vance's February 2026 visit to the region, will find that Moscow's regional credibility has eroded slightly further in a part of the Russian Federation where that erosion was supposed to be impossible. As AFPC Senior Fellow Mamuka Tsereteli has argued, the war in Ukraine has produced a paradox for American strategy: it has reduced Russia's long-term strategic power even as it has hardened Moscow into a more risk-tolerant adversary. The window for Western policymakers to lock in this regional shift remains open, but it will not stay open forever. The floodwaters in Dagestan will recede in the coming weeks. The political water table in the Caucasus has shifted by a measurable amount, and it is shifting in the same direction in which the rivers are running, south, away from a centre that no longer commands them.

AUTHOR’S BIO: 

Laura Linderman is a Senior Fellow and Director of Programs at the Central Asia-Caucasus Institute at the American Foreign Policy Council, and a nonresident fellow at the Atlantic Council's Eurasia Center. Lydia Sawatsky is a researcher at the Central Asia-Caucasus Institute.