Russia
Source:
eng.globalaffairs.ru Author:
Yevgeny I. Diskin, PhD in Law
Abstract
This article examines whether digital sovereignty can be sustained through domestic policy alone. Drawing on securitization theory, geoeconomics, the concept of weaponized interdependence, and regime complex theory, the article analyzes four cases: the U.S., the EU, China, and Russia. These actors confront different limitations on their control over the digital environment: insufficient regulation in the EU, counterproductivity of restrictions in Russia, limits on the foreign operations of Chinese companies, and the weakening of extraterritorial U.S. regulations. Direct-to-Cell satellite connectivity is unbundling territoriality and deepening the ineffectiveness of national gatekeeping. The article argues that Russia’s Foreign Policy Concept does not adequately respond to these challenges, and it calls for a proactive foreign policy on digital sovereignty, including a more active negotiating position vis-à-vis the U.S., cooperation within BRICS+ and the SCO, and the formation of an alternative regulatory regime.
Keywords
Digital sovereignty, securitization, geoeconomics, weaponized interdependence, regime complex, unbundling of territoriality, digital platforms, Russian foreign policy, Starlink’s Direct-to-Cell.
In 2025, President Vladimir Putin stated that Russia had achieved full digital sovereignty, claiming that only three countries in the world were truly digitally sovereign: the U.S., China, and Russia (Kommersant, 2025). Earlier, in September 2025, First Deputy Head of the Presidential Administration Sergei Kiriyenko also noted that the number of fully digitally sovereign countries was significantly smaller than the number of nuclear-armed states (Interfax, 2025). By claiming digital sovereignty, these ‘securitization moves’ (Buzan, Wæver, and de Wilde, 1998, p. 29) also imply the need to protect that sovereignty, permitting the state to take extraordinary measures for that purpose, given society’s recognition of the state’s responsibility for security.
Yet the present measures and level of control are apparently insufficient to counter external threats: foreign countries’ development of Direct-to-Cell technologies, extraterritorial pressure on digital platforms, and coercive exploitation of control over infrastructure all threaten digital sovereignty,
[1] and can be countered only with foreign policy instruments.
The official statement regarding “cyber superpowers”
[2] raises two major questions: 1) To what extent can control over digital technologies influence the structure of international relations? and 2) What does the status of a ‘digital superpower’ really mean, if defined formally? This article employs and develops Dmitry Anikin’s concept of multiple sovereignty (2025), while also utilizing structural realism, constructivism, securitization theory, and international regimes theory. This should unveil the nature and development of digital conflicts and outline the foreign policy decisions demanded by those conflicts.
To what extent do the ongoing political, economic, and technological conflicts,
[3] between the leading digital powers, indicate the insufficiency of state instruments of control over the digital environment? What theoretical and practical factors demand the issue’s transfer into the foreign policy domain?
This study compares four country cases (the U.S., the EU, China, and Russia) featuring those factors. It also analyzes regulation of the digital sphere. Russia’s 2023
Foreign Policy Concept defines its foreign policy priorities but does not sufficiently address protection of the country’s interests in the digital sphere, as demanded by other countries’ intensive development and use of digital technologies. Keeping digital technological development solely within the realm of domestic policy may hinder Russia’s efforts to build a fair multipolar world, as its main geopolitical rivals (above all the U.S.) maintain a threatening lead in digital technologies.
This article posits that Russia’s official claim of “full digital sovereignty”—merely discursive and stated in normative acts only implicitly—disregards threats emerging at the intersection of technology and social relations on the meso and macro levels. Foreign policy instruments are needed to parry such threats.
Sovereignty and the Digital Dimension
Understanding digital sovereignty requires understanding the main approaches to defining state sovereignty. Stephen Krasner identifies four types of sovereignty: domestic sovereignty, interdependence sovereignty, international legal sovereignty, and Westphalian sovereignty (Krasner, 1999, pp. 3-5). It is interdependence sovereignty, i.e., a state’s ability to control cross-border flows, that has come under the greatest pressure amid the digital transformation, since digital flows are inherently transboundary and difficult to control.
Scholarship on digital sovereignty is developing rapidly: Stefano Fratini et al. (2024) have systematized four competing models of its understanding; and Julia Pohle and Mauro Santaniello (2024) have recorded a shift in the discussion from descriptive to normative approaches. Digital sovereignty is being operationalized and becoming part of practical state policy rather than only an academic subject. This article continues in the same vein, suggesting consideration of digital sovereignty not as a state’s static characteristic, but as a process whose dynamics are determined by the interaction of domestic and foreign policy instruments.
John Agnew (1994) warned of the ‘territorial trap’: automatic equation of state sovereignty with territorial control. Cyberspace is the most vivid example of a mismatch between jurisdiction over digital platforms and territorial borders, and attempts to restore territorial control by blocking digital resources create serious risks (discussed below). John J. Ruggie described an ‘unbundling of territoriality’ in which political power and social interaction cease to be rigidly tied to physical borders, and states have to deal with forces and factors that cannot be reduced to ‘territorial solutions’ (Ruggie, 1993, pp. 149-151, 171-172). Ruggie suggested not a ‘disappearance of sovereignty,’ but the emergence of ‘multiperspective institutional forms’ in which authority is separated from exclusive territoriality (Ibid, p. 172). Digital sovereignty is a clear example of ‘unbundling’: the state seeks to restore control of an environment that cannot be reduced to physical space, and hence it is forced to create new, extraterritorial regulatory instruments (i.e., establish jurisdiction based on the number of users operating in the state’s territory). This approach has been adopted in the EU, Russia, the UK, and other countries.
Digital Securitization of Sovereignty
Securitization legitimizes extraordinary measures beyond the usual political process (Buzan, Wæver and de Wilde, 1998). Securitization targets various aspects of state sovereignty, and securitizing actors are heads of state and senior officials. Specific speech acts range from Putin’s statements about “three fully digitally sovereign countries,” to Macron’s remarks about the inadmissibility of “digital vassalage” (Le Monde, 2025a), to the Trump administration’s announcement that foreign regulation of American digital platforms threatens U.S. sovereignty (USDS, 2025).
All four digital powers securitize their digital sovereignty, but with varying reference objects, reflecting their varying normative approaches and strategic interests. The U.S. securitizes the freedom of its platforms from foreign regulation, i.e., defines control over the global digital infrastructure as an element of sovereignty. The EU securitizes technological independence and the integrity of users’ information. China securitizes ideological stability, declaring foreign platforms a source of destabilization. Russia securitizes the integrity of the national communication space.
The fruits of securitization—legitimized extraordinary measures—thus also differ: e.g., blocking, personal sanctions against foreign officials, forced division of companies, and creation of alternative technological ecosystems.
Geoeconomics and ‘Weaponized Interdependence’
Edward Luttwak (1990) introduced ‘geoeconomics’ into scientific use to denote a shift from military-political to economic rivalry between states, even as the underlying logic of conflict remained in place. Digital platforms are the most effective tools of geoeconomic competition: they generate huge financial flows, control the global information space, and provide access to data increasingly viewed as a strategic resource. Robert Blackwill and Jennifer Harris (2016) proposed the concept of economic statecraft. By handling huge financial flows and exercising monopoly control over access to infrastructure (operating systems, application stores, cloud services), platforms become tools of control, while remaining objects of state regulation. It is the economic importance of platforms that makes them one of the central elements of geoeconomic competition in the modern world.
The concept of ‘weaponized interdependence’ proposed by Henry Farrell and Abraham Newman (2019) describes the mechanism by which global network structures—financial, informational, and infrastructural—asymmetrically advantage states that control these networks’ chokepoints. The U.S., through its technology companies, controls the global Internet infrastructure, search engines, mobile device operating systems, cloud services, and digital payment systems. It has thereby amassed an unprecedented arsenal of tools to employ the ‘panopticon effect’ (monitoring of transnational flows) and the ‘chokepoint effect’ (disconnection of other actors from networks). However, this power operates within a ‘regime complex’ (Nye, 2014, p. 7), and awareness of the threat has propelled others to seek digital sovereignty by sometimes radical means (see the next section).
The states challenging U.S. digital hegemony long sought to avoid direct confrontation, relying on domestic regulation such as legal restrictions, data localization requirements, and access-blocking. But the mounting pressure is forcing them to turn to foreign policy.Susan Strange’s ‘power structures’—environments in which other actors must act (Strange, 1994, pp. 34, 165)—seem applicable to the role of multinational digital corporations such as Apple, Google (Alphabet), Microsoft, X, Telegram, or Palantir. These corporations largely determine the architecture of digital interaction, content moderation rules, information dissemination algorithms, and data processing standards (de Bustos and Izquierdo-Castillo, 2019). Strange predicted “the retreat of the state” in the face of market forces (Strange, 1996, p. 141), but the opposite has occurred: states seek to establish control over the digital environment, which was initially formed outside of state regulation, using the entire arsenal of domestic and foreign policy instruments.
Securitization, geoeconomic competition, and control over key nodes are subject to regulation. Joseph Nye Jr. described global cyberspace governance as a ‘regime complex,’ a set of overlapping and often conflicting regimes regulating various aspects of the digital environment (Nye, 2014). This explains why states cannot achieve digital sovereignty alone, using only domestic policy: such efforts inevitably affect other states’ regimes. This is true of the U.S.’s power projection as well. The normative and functional confrontation between respective regimes, or ‘regime interdependence,’ calls for foreign policy instruments.
The Constructivist Dimension
According to the constructivist approach (see Wendt, 1999, p. 4; Katzenstein, 1996, p. 6), conflicts over digital sovereignty unfold not only in the material, but also in the normative
[4] and discursive realms. Every actor constructs his own normative position, appealing to different values. The U.S. refers to freedom of speech and of entrepreneurship; the EU seeks to protect personal data and “counter disinformation and hatred” (EU Code, 2016); China upholds “cyber sovereignty” as an element of public administration; Russia prioritizes the “protection of the national information space from external interference.” The clash of these narratives creates a situation where all parties appeal to sovereignty but construe it differently. This indirectly bears out the thesis of Julia Pohle and Torsten Thiel (2020), that digital sovereignty is not so much a regulatory or organizational tool, but a discursive instrument of political argumentation, which is filled with different normative content dependent on the actor’s position and interests.
Digital Sovereignty and Conflicts Related to Its Protection
The Trump administration’s unrestrained and unilateral behavior is forcing the U.S.’s traditional allies—such as the EU, the UK, and even Canada—to speak of the “end of the rules-based order,” to discuss enhancing “strategic autonomy” (Carney, 2026), and to reconsider their attitudes to the 20-year-long dominance of American digital platforms, which all actors now see as tools of control and coercion. Escaping ‘surveillance and strangulation’ is becoming an urgent task. However, its implementation is encountering numerous legal and technological difficulties, primarily the need to build relationships with the technology giants, which operate as transnational actors despite being registered in specific jurisdictions (mainly in the U.S.) (de Bustos and Izquierdo-Castillo, 2019). These corporations are unprecedentedly important to the global technological infrastructure (Diskin, 2025a), and interaction with them requires both political will and certain national technological capabilities.
The EU AND the U.S.: Regulatory Sovereignty vs. Structural Dependence
On 18 November 2025, Berlin hosted a special EU summit on digital sovereignty, where French President Emmanuel Macron said: “We do not want to be digital vassals of the U.S. or China” (Le Monde, 2025a). In fact, Macron defined dependence on foreign platforms as an existential threat, which can be treated as an attempt at securitization. However, statements alone are not enough to escape strangulation and the panopticon, and accrued dependence cannot be overcome overnight, especially absent the political will and resources for a major leap forward. Miguel De Bruycker, Managing Director General of the Centre of Cybersecurity for Belgium, maintains that “Europe has lost the Internet,” and the EU’s attempts to restrict leading American digital platforms are irrelevant; the bloc needs its own competitive products (RBC, 2026a). “Instead of putting that focus on how we can stop the U.S. ‘hyperscalers,’ maybe we put our energy in…building up something by ourselves?” (The Brussels Times, 2026).
Nevertheless, the EU’s recent measures have noticeably affected its relations with U.S. tech corporations, which are estimated to have lost $97.6 billion from European regulations and special taxation (Schramm, 2025). When the EU uses ‘economic statecraft,’ such as regulatory pressure on foreign actors (Baldwin, 2020, pp. 28-29), the U.S. responds with ‘digital mercantilism’ (Wheeler, 2025), i.e., Luttwak’s geoeconomics.
The EU has established a legal system covering almost all areas of digitalization: the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), the Digital Markets Act (DMA), and the complementary Digital Services Act (DSA).
[5]Extraterritorial application of European norms has the ‘Brussels effect’ (Bradford, p. 25): global corporations align their practices with EU norms even beyond the EU’s borders. Establishing jurisdiction over foreign platforms based on the number of users in the EU is essentially an attempt to escape the ‘territorial trap’: the state asserts control not over the territory hosting servers with user data, but over the audience physically located within the state’s borders.
But, while this mechanism is effective in pressuring industry, it is reaching the limit of impact on U.S. behavior, as borne out by Macron’s words about the inadmissibility of digital vassalage and by the adoption of the Declaration for European Digital Sovereignty (Declaration, 2025).
The EU has realized, albeit quite late, that digital sovereignty cannot be achieved solely by improving regulatory mechanisms, and that it needs its own digital platforms, cloud data services, AI, and other technological infrastructure.According to a report to the European Parliament, 80 percent of digital products, services, infrastructure, and intellectual property used in the EU have been created outside it (Report, 2025). In fact, the EU does not have major messengers, social networks, or marketplaces. Its most successful social network is France’s BeReal with 40 million monthly users (Silberling, 2025), which pales even compared to Russia’s VK, with 92 million monthly users (VK, 2025). Thus, any online discourse significant to the EU will be conducted overwhelmingly on platforms created outside its borders, within the U.S.’s panopticon. Also, Apple and Google, as the owners of mobile operating systems,
[6] have structural power (in Strange’s terminology) over all digital market participants: any national application, messenger, or service operates only insofar as it has access to their ecosystems.
[7] In other words, dependence on the U.S. in this field is just as great as it is in the field of armaments, even though the European Commission has its own executive vice-president for tech sovereignty (Henna Virkkunen). Nevertheless, the Europeans remain committed to determining their own regulatory frameworks and are even planning to ban digital platforms close to Trump if he moves to seize Greenland (Gutteridge and Barnes, 2026).
The EU’s public statements, regulatory measures, and fines against American companies have frustrated many officials in the U.S., not only in the Trump administration but also in some think tanks, in particular the right-libertarian Cato Institute (Inserra, 2025). The incumbent American administration’s actions clearly show that the digital track is one of its priorities. U.S. sanctions against European Commissioner Thierry Breton, and against four NGO functionaries associated with the EU’s digital policy, strongly signify a transformation of U.S.-EU relations in this area. The U.S. Secretary of State has emphasized the inadmissibility of violating U.S. sovereignty in cyberspace (Rubio, 2025). This is a manifestation of ‘weaponized interdependence’ (Farrell and Newman, 2019): the U.S. uses control over key global digital infrastructure nodes to coerce partners and uses sanctions to retain that control.
The explicit clash of narratives is an important point: the sanctioned heads of the Centre for Countering Digital Hate, the Global Disinformation Index, and Hate Aid play a major role in the implementation of the EU policy of “countering disinformation” (Diskin, 2025b, pp. 417-419). The White House has blasted their activities as “radical activism of the global censorship-industrial complex” (Rubio, 2025). This narrative is also supported by Telegram founder Pavel Durov, who has accused Macron and Breton of building a “digital Gulag” (Durov, 2025). This is essentially a clash of two incompatible narratives and regulatory orders: the U.S.’s freedom of speech, legitimizing personal sanctions, versus the EU’s fight against hatred and disinformation (EU Code, 2016), which has been ratified by EU Parliament laws (Le Monde, 2025b) and which legitimizes fines and regulatory directives.
Note that this study aims to identify the parties’ points of conflict, narratives, and tools, not to adjudge their correctness.
China and the U.S.: TikTok and Geoeconomic Coercion
China has long pursued digital autonomy, having built a system of control over its internal information space.
But prioritization of the manufacturing sector, and the sustainment of domestic demand for it, has shifted government and corporate attention to the development of online shopping. China has the world’s largest online shopping market (Xinhua, 2026) and is rapidly conquering those of other countries (Haleem, 2026).
Meanwhile, Chinese social networks such as Weibo, QQ, Xiaohongshu, and Bilibili are virtually nonexistent outside of China, due to regulatory costs and cultural and language barriers. A major exception is TikTok, with a global audience of 1.59 billion users as of the beginning of 2025 (Statista, 2025).
The conflict over TikTok, the international “mirror” of China’s Douyin platform, is particularly significant. Of the platform’s 1.59 billion users, 135 million are in the U.S.. Trump threatened to block TikTok even during his first term (AP News, 2020), but his order was blocked by a district court
[8] and overturned by the Biden administration. After returning to the White House in 2025, Trump forced TikTok to split its U.S. branch into an independent legal entity under U.S. control. Such a forced separation should be considered an instrument of state policy.
It seems that Beijing made concessions on TikTok because it needed to maintain access to the U.S. digital advertising and consumer content market.But it is unlikely to do the same regarding marketplaces, as they have strategic economic importance to China, providing it with economic leverage (Drezner, 2021) and other benefits described by Farrell and Newman (2019).
Control over the external information space is still of secondary importance for China, but pressure on Chinese companies abroad (e.g., TikTok) is forcing Beijing to make foreign policy decisions. The isolation of its internal information space has not eliminated the need for foreign policy tools.
Russia: Technological Autarky and the Dilemma of Control
Long before the EU did, Russia faced the issue of dependence on foreign digital platforms, and began developing its own replacements.
Unlike in the EU, Russian platforms’ market share was quite significant even before the mass blocking of foreign resources. In 2022-2023, the search engine Yandex controlled 49% of the market, versus Google’s 47%, notwithstanding the far greater resources and unrestricted status of the latter (AdIndex, 2023; Blunt, 2025). VKontakte remains the flagship Russian social network (VK, 2022). Russian marketplaces accounted for 62% of e-commerce in 2021 (Bakharev, 2022). Putin’s description of digital sovereignty, as a pool of national competitive platforms, is therefore accurate.
But digital sovereignty should also be understood as requiring emancipation from the aforementioned ‘strangulating control’ and ‘panopticon effect,’ which continue to plague Russia and Russians’ communication with one another.Russia remains in an unprecedentedly intense conflict with the U.S. and the EU over control of Russia’s own cyberspace. Western countries censor Russian official resources and state-owned media by blocking them on their platforms and in EU jurisdictions in 2022-2023 (AiF, 2022; TASS, 2024), a process that began long before the Special Military Operation (TASS, 2019). The normalization of Russia’s relations with U.S. tech giants remains conceivable, but this would likely require a comprehensive peace process,
[9] and it is unclear what to do with a company that has been designated as extremist, or with fines that have exceeded the entire global money supply (e.g., for not complying with court orders to restore Russian TV channels on YouTube (Zvezda, Channel One, VGTRK, NTV, RT, and others)(RBC, 2024).
There has emerged a tendency towards ‘technological autarchy.’
[10] LinkedIn, Telegram, Twitter (X), Facebook, Instagram,
[11] YouTube, Signal, Discord, Viber, WhatsApp, Roblox, FaceTime, and Snapchat have all been slowed or blocked in Russia since 2016. Government officials affirm that the current approach is the right way to enforce legislation (Gorelkin, 2025), but there have been no significant signs of foreign platforms’ behavior changing since February 2022. Even when the authorities indicated success in negotiations with Roblox, with a (mainly child) audience in Russia of 18 million (Lantsov, 2025), the service remained blocked as of May 2026 (RIA, 2026a). This provoked discontent: the head of the Safe Internet League, Yekaterina Mizulina, received 63,000 complaints from children and their parents about Roblox alone, which she forwarded to the Roskomnadzor agency (Mizulina, 2025). Many more are concerned by Telegram’s blocking (Gudoshnikov, 2026).
This exposes the growing gap between the securitization of sovereignty and the effectiveness of extraordinary measures taken to ensure it: with the threat to sovereignty defined as existential, emergency measures (blocking) are formally legitimized, but uncontrollable side effects—emigration of specialists, growing discontent, and technological lag—limit that legitimation and create new security threats. Thus, measures to strengthen security in one area (communication) impair security in other areas (technological development, social stability). Alternative tools, including in foreign policy, must be considered. The current approach is increasingly ineffective and even counterproductive, leading to paradoxical results, like the purchase of VPNs by some regional administrations (Okhotnikova, 2026).
The Exhaustion of Tools for State Control
The most intense conflicts over digital sovereignty illustrate that domestic policy tools, alone, are increasingly incapable of resolving such disputes. For the EU, such tools have proven to be too weak, failing to facilitate the emergence of its own platforms. For Russia, such tools have been counterproductive: blocking has uncontrollable side effects. For China, such tools have proven sufficient to protect its domestic market, but unable to protect its companies abroad. And, for the U.S., such tools cannot overcome the increasing resistance to its extraterritorial imposition of norms. In fact, all four parties are in an intense conflict—between West and East, and also between the U.S. (under Trump) and the EU.
Regarding Russia in particular, comparison with the U.S. is telling. The U.S.’s mandatory division of TikTok was legitimized as an emergency measure to protect 135 million Americans from the control of a foreign power. TikTok was already operating under U.S. jurisdiction,
[12] but now it will be managed by U.S. investors, giving the U.S. real control (Khushboo and Han, 2025). Russia blocked Meta platforms (Instagram and Facebook) for similar reasons,
[13] but with diametrically opposite results: while the U.S. acquired control over TikTok within its borders, Russia lost access to audiences beyond its borders, as there is no Russian alternative with similar global reach.
[14] Telegram’s blocking also raised a wave of criticism among military bloggers, officials, and entrepreneurs (RBC, 2026a). The asymmetry of results is explained by the difference in negotiating power: the U.S. controls key infrastructure nodes, which allows it to impose its conditions, while Russia can only isolate itself.
For Russia, this is a major conflict, whose outcome will greatly affect Russia’s digital market and technologies. In the worst case, serious political instability may be generated if successive bans on foreign services eliminate the ability to project national content and narratives, deprive Russians of personal digital communication with the outside world, and exclude them from the global digital agenda and discourse. This risk has not yet been adequately reflected in strategic documents.
Russia’s current digital foreign policy is defined in Para 30 of the
Foreign Policy Concept, which declares the goal of the “safe and stable functioning and development of the Internet, based on the equal participation of states in its governance and…preventing the establishment of foreign control over [the Internet’s] national segments.” This is vague and somewhat outdated. It repeats the logic of Federal Law 90-FZ of 1 May 2019 (known as the Sovereign Runet Law) (Zhukov and Shugunov, 2020), but the risk of Russia being cut off from the global Internet is less than it was in 2019, thanks to technical measures taken since then.
The Foundations of the State Policy of the Russian Federation in the Field of International Information Security considers many threats, mainly criminal ones (Presidential Decree, 2021). But the document was written so as to motivate certain UN convention that was indeed passed in December 2024 (Convention, 2024), and has little relevance beyond that.
The threats facing Russia are not limited to crime or an externally imposed Internet cutoff. One of the greatest threats is that escalating internal blocking could partly disconnect the Russian and foreign segments of the Internet. Moreover, even a complete disconnection would have limited utility, given almost nondisruptable Direct-to-Cell technology. The January 2026 unrest in Iran, fueled by Starlink’s provision of ‘pirate’ Internet, shows the U.S.’s ability to overcome blocking in any state—even the UK (GB News, 2026).
Meanwhile the Americans are upgrading their capabilities: Starlink is actively developing the Direct-to-Cell space communication technology, which does not require any terminals or satellite dishes—an LTE-enabled smartphone gets connected directly to a satellite (Starlink, 2025). The last smartphones lacking LTE support were sold more than 15 years ago, and LTE occupies 96-97% of Russia’s mobile network (Kotov, 2024). Suppressing such access would require either jamming all LTE/5G
[15] cellular bands, or manually examining all mobile devices, which seems impossible (3side, 2025). Starlink’s Direct-to-Cell technology is essentially a new ‘weapon of interdependence’ that significantly enhances the ‘panopticon’ and creates a fundamentally new mechanism for ‘penetration.’ Although Russia is developing its own satellite communication systems, it still lacks comparable capabilities (RBC, 2026b).
Starlink’s Direct-to-Cell technology vividly illustrates the ‘unbundling of territoriality’: the state loses control as access ceases to be routed solely through ground infrastructure.
In Russia’s reincorporated regions, a response is needed to Starlink’s plans to activate Direct-to-Cell in what it considers to be Ukrainian territory (Reuters, 2025). The subject must be included in any negotiations on Ukraine. In December 2025, Russia called an informal meeting of the UN Security Council, demanding that satellite communication services respect the sovereignty of other states (Vedomosti, 2026). This was an attempt to work out basic principles for the international regulation of satellite communications, but its success will require broad international support along with pressure on SpaceX.
Possibilities for Institutionalization
The above-described conflicts over digital sovereignty cannot be resolved by the U.S., the EU, Russia, or China by solely domestic means.
The aforementioned ‘regime complex’ determines which institutional forms are available to foreign policy (Nye, 2014). Forming an integrated regime is hampered by contradictions between the (Russia- and China-supported) multilateral model of Internet governance, and the (U.S.- and to a lesser extent EU-supported)
multistakeholder model, which entails the participation of all stakeholders, including non-state actors (see: Mueller, 2010; Zinovieva and Shitkov, 2024). The evolution of the regime complex, currently halfway between complete fragmentation and a single coherent legal structure, may be the most likely scenario (Nye, 2014, p. 16). But the current trajectory is clearly towards fragmentation, partly due to states’ reliance on domestic political instruments to ensure digital sovereignty (RBC, 2026c).
Our theoretical analysis suggests several foreign policy options for the Foreign Ministry, the Security Council, expert groups, and negotiation platforms.
First, in negotiations with the U.S., Russia should raise the issue of U.S. digital platforms’ future operation in Russia. The U.S. may raise this issue itself, but its negotiating position should be understood in advance. Russia’s blocking of foreign platforms limits the benefits, derived by the U.S. from its technological advantage, and emphasizing U.S. companies’ losses may strengthen Russia’s negotiating position.
Second, Russia should strengthen practical cooperation with BRICS+ and the SCO, and internationally discuss threats to Internet governance and the risks of pursuing digital sovereignty through blocking alone. Russia and China could promote their digital platforms as alternatives to American ones, provide them to BRICS+ countries, and exchange experience and competencies. The purpose is to form an alternative (regional, not universal) regime complex that ensures a minimum level of cooperation and harmonization of standards.
Third, when attempts are made on foreign platforms to discredit Russian culture, language, and history, or to persecute Russian users, such attempts must be opposed. But this is possible only through effective international cooperation on digital regulation, a task that has not yet been properly articulated. Foreign digital platforms may be influenced through administrative pressure in reputationally sensitive areas, prosecution for campaigns that violate Russians’ rights, and mass lawsuits by affected users in foreign courts. Other measures should include cooperation with BRICS+ and SCO members in digital regulation, public campaigns to disclose illegal activities of individuals and organizations affiliated with foreign platforms, and the pursuit of modifications to international law by promoting joint legal positions in relevant intergovernmental organizations.
Fourth, the areas of legal cooperation should be expanded: the CIS, SCO, and BRICS+ platforms should be employed to pursue amendment of the UN Convention against Cybercrime, so that it includes provisions on mutual assistance in prosecuting information warfare, terrorist propaganda, and the incitement of interethnic and interreligious hatred.
Finally, a permanent BRICS+/SCO mechanism for cyberspace governance should be created. It may serve as the prototype for a new international regime. Internet access beyond the state’s control threatens not only Russia: the aforementioned forays against the UK and Iran (Times of India, 2026) may indicate that the U.S. is preparing such campaigns against any country seen as threatening American digital platforms.
The above analysis yields several general conclusions.
First. Conflicts over digital sovereignty between the leading digital powers—the U.S., EU, China, and Russia—are not isolated episodes, but the products of a structural shift in international relations. Theories of securitization (Buzan, Wæver, and de Wilde, 1998), geoeconomics (Luttwak, 1990; Blackwill and Harris, 2016), of interdependence-weaponization (Farrell and Newman, 2019), and of international regimes (Krasner, 1983; NYE, 2014) reveal the patterns underlying these conflicts and predict their development.
Second. All four considered great powers are approaching the limits of their tools’ effectiveness, and now face insufficiency (the EU), counterproductivity (Russia), ‘defensive’ ineffectiveness abroad (China), and ‘offensive’ ineffectiveness abroad (the U.S.). No actor can rely solely on domestic policy tools, and all must adopt some foreign policy instruments.
Third. Russia’s current strategic documents—the
Foreign Policy Concept and
The Foundations of State Policy in the Field of International Information Security—do not fully reflect the described dynamics. Their focus on countering cybercrime, and on external disconnection of the Runet, needs to be significantly expanded to account for new technologies like Starlink’s Direct-to-Cell.
Fourth. Digital issues should be institutionalized as an independent area of Russia’s foreign policy. Priorities should be defined in strategic documents, negotiating positions should be formulated, and mechanisms for international cooperation (bilateral and within BRICS+ and the SCO) should be developed.
The global Internet’s increasing fragmentation—contrary to the integration that prevailed at the beginning of the 21st century—is dragging the contours of digital space out of alignment with national development. To avoid becoming one of the losers in this process, Russia must transition from reactive domestic policy to a proactive foreign policy strategy.