Joint article with Timofey Zhalnin
As temperatures drop and the rasputitsa persists, an October surprise development unfolded: the arrival of 12,000 North Korean soldiers in the Kursk region. This move marked a chilling shift in the dynamics of Russia’s force generation strategy as it turned to North Korea in a desperate bid to replenish its hard-pressed forces. With casualties amongst those imported soldiers already mounting into the thousands, this unprecedented alignment between two nations under severe international sanctions reveals a disturbing blend of economic desperation and geo-political manoeuvring. This novel chapter in global military alliances tests the boundaries of international law.
The Armed Forces of Russia (AFR) have sustained significant losses in manpower, equipment, munitions, and capabilities over the past two and a half years of its invasion of Ukraine. Russia is only partially able to replace and regenerate these forces lost in combat. The Defence Industrial Base (DIB) of Russia has geared up significantly throughout the war’s lifespan, but due to serious constraints in skilled labour and critical components and parts the defence industry cannot keep up with the rate of military materiel consumption. As a result, Russia has turned to its partners China, Iran, and North Korea, in what has been called the new Axis of Upheaval (an adaptation of President George Bush’s Axis of Evil label of Iraq, Iran, and North Korea), to procure the shortfall of capabilities. For much of the war’s duration, these transactions limited themselves to components, parts, drones, munitions, weapons, and microchips craved by Russia to feed its war machine. Russian migration policies have tried to attract additional skilled labour for its DIB, but are hampered by domestic anti-migrant sentiments spearheaded by Russian ultranationalist voices in its civil society.
The deployment of North Korean soldiers in Ukraine not only marks a shift in the scope of actors in the war, but also underscores a complex web of economic incentives and contractual arrangements that define this unconventional alliance. The USD 2,000 monthly compensation offered to these troops is unprecedented by North Korean standards, where the average worker earns a minuscule fraction of this amount. In fact, the North Korean GDP per capita is USD 1,700 (annualised; 2015 estimate). This significant financial reward provides a potent motivator for North Korean soldiers, potentially reshaping their economic realities and offering a lifeline to their families in a country marred by poverty and stringent international sanctions. This economic desperation makes the soldier's role not just a military commitment but also a crucial financial strategy for survival.
Thus far, the sources from which Russia had drawn its military manpower for deployment in Ukraine had consisted of (a) professional military in service at the invasion’s start, (b) volunteers joining after the invasion began (including PMC Wagner Group), (c) prisoners, criminals, foreigners, migrants, and other individuals enticed or forced into service in exchange for favourable sentencing reduction or other benefits, and (d) conscripts and reservists as part of their compulsory military service or who were mobilised in Russia’s 2022 partial mobilisation. The partial mobilisation drafted roughly 300,000 Russians to serve in the war effort, mostly as infantry at the frontline. However, a significant public backlash erupted after the mobilisation had begun, and roughly 700,000 Russians eligible for the draft are estimated to have fled the country in one way or another to dodge the draft. The latest Russian—North Korean security agreements’ addition of North Korean soldiers into the deal has altered the nature of Russia’s relationship with its arms-supplying partners, and escalated the international character of the inter-state war between Russia and Ukraine. The novelty herein is that North Korean military personnel are sent to the frontlines to assault Ukrainian positions, notwithstanding their own state being officially non-belligerent in the war (although Ukraine broke diplomatic relations in July 2022).
Further complicating the economic underpinnings of this alliance are the additional compensation terms involving rice shipments and dual-use technology transfers. North Korea's perennial struggle with food security makes the rice shipments a critical aspect of the deal, likely intended to bolster domestic approval for the regime’s military commitments abroad. Meanwhile, the technology transfers involve equipment and knowledge that can be used for both civilian and military purposes, helping North Korea circumvent the technological stagnation wrought by years of economic isolation and sanctions. This barter-like exchange, devoid of direct financial transactions, cleverly sidesteps the limitations imposed by the international community, enabling a continuous flow of necessary goods and technology back to North Korea.
This has further exacerbated the labour constraints suffered in the Russian DIB. Vladimir Putin has likely judged that the state mobilisation instrument is too risky and politically controversial to be used a second time. Therefore, Russia has turned to a policy of crypto-mobilisation for its force generation effort to replace its manpower losses in Ukraine. Crypto-mobilisation refers to the state’s efforts to recruit soldiers by all means short of general mobilisation. This has so far allowed Russia to replenish its losses to an extent, without antagonising civil society. Recruits are garnered through a combination of propaganda, (social) media campaigns, higher salary promises, veteran- and family-related benefits, offering criminals sentencing reduction or prosecution avoidance in exchange for military service, and the prioritisation of recruitment campaigns in poorer, rural, inland regions of Russia where the poverty of the local non ethnically Russian populations tends to be an additional motivation for citizens to voluntarily enlist in the AFR. Morbidly, securing family benefits after dying in Russian service has, in some localities, become more profitable than spending one’s life working; a phenomenon called “Deathonomics”. Russia is likely motivated to secure North Korean soldiers as part of bilateral military assistance due to its assessment that its current crypto-mobilisation efforts are currently insufficient, or will in the near future be insufficient, to replace the losses in manpower it is currently suffering.
Even though North Korea and Russia refer to this as a “mutual defence agreement”, in reality, this is an almost-perfect contract that is also continuously renewable. In this case, both sides are essentially engaging in a transfer of goods (i.e., food and dual-use technology) and services (contracted armed forces). The concept of a "renewable contract" between Russia and North Korea introduces a dynamic framework for ongoing military and economic cooperation. This arrangement suggests both a recognition of the potential for prolonged conflict and a pragmatic approach to sustaining military engagement without the traditional commitments of formal alliances. The renewable nature of the contract allows for adjustments and extensions based on military, economic, and political considerations, reflecting a flexible approach to modern warfare and alliance management. The only possible flaw in the contract is the risk that one of the parties can unilaterally deviate should there be a hint of foul play or expectation of higher compensation.
The renewable nature of the contract between Russia and North Korea exemplifies the principles of transaction cost economics, which analyse the conditions under which it makes sense for firms—or in this case, countries—to make or buy goods and services. In the context of international sanctions and economic isolation, the direct costs of conventional military recruitment and procurement of technology are significantly augmented by political and financial risks. By structuring the agreement as a de facto renewable contract, both nations minimise these transaction costs, securing a reliable and adjustable means of military support that can be scaled and modified in response to changing battlefield dynamics and political landscapes. This model not only ensures flexibility in the face of uncertain military engagements but also stabilises the economic relationship between the two countries, providing continuous benefits without the recurring negotiations typically required for new deals. Nevertheless, there is some room for either side to attempt to flex the bargaining power muscle in an effort to renegotiate for better terms; still, both sides are highly dependent on one another and are also afraid to lose face.
Russian monthly casualty figures in Ukraine have been estimated at 25,000 – 30,000, or peaking even at 1,500 a day. This is roughly equal to or less than the estimates of Russia’s crypto-mobilisation efforts, meaning the AFR struggles to even maintain its current personnel size. The grave statistics of Russian casualties (personnel killed, wounded, or missing in action) enable the possibility that by those mathematics, based on the reporting that the first North Korean soldiers in the Kursk region had entered combat on 23 October 2024, the lot of them may already be incapacitated.
This Government Military Contractor model, novel in its formalisation and renewal potential, signals a shift in how state actors employ and integrate foreign soldiers into their military strategies. Unlike historical mercenarism, this structured engagement is characterised by its integration into broader strategic objectives and economic exchanges, which may set a precedent for future interstate military collaborations. As such, it poses new challenges for global governance and conflict management, requiring close attention to the upholding and application of existing international laws and norms surrounding warfare and military alliances.
The economic rationale behind such contractual relationships, coupled with the strategic deployment of these troops at critical junctures like the Kursk front, underscores a deeper geopolitical play. By utilising North Korean soldiers under such terms, Russia not only fills its immediate manpower needs but also strengthens its ties with Pyongyang, ensuring a steady influx of military and economic support. This symbiosis between economic incentives and military strategy illustrates the evolving landscape of international relations, where economic desperation and strategic needs intermingle, reshaping traditional alliances and conflict dynamics.
Due to the mutual benefits of their new-found partnership, Russia and North Korea are sure to continue transacting military and economic assistance that will further the Russian war machine. Whether more North Korean soldiery will succeed the 12,000 sent so far remains to be seen. The export-import of third-state military personnel is now no longer an improbable scenario to consider in modern interstate warfare. If the West wishes to preserve the liberal international order it has so incrementally constructed, states ought to integrate this new phenomenon into their threat assessments of hostile state actors and consider using sanction relief as leverage if they wish to stop such soldier-exporting practices. Government Military Contractors may be here to stay.
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