"The trajectory on the ground is one of decline — not development"

A conversation on the Russian Arctic with Ilia Shumanov of Arctida.io

This month’s post for 66° North debuts a new series of exclusive long-form interviews with Arctic experts, policymakers, and diplomats. Every other month, we’ll feature in-depth conversations with some of the region’s most influential voices.

Our first interview is with Ilia Shumanov, a Russian journalist, lawyer and former Executive Director of Transparency International Russia. In 2023, Ilia co-founded Arctida, an NGO dedicated to producing evidence-based analyses and investigations on the Russian Arctic.

Image: Ilia Shumanov (Source: Private)

66° North: Hello Ilia! Thank you for agreeing to speak to us about your work. What inspired you to co-found Arctida back in 2023?

Ilia Shumanov: I became interested in the Arctic during my time at Transparency International Russia. In 2021, when I was still based in Moscow, I travelled to the Russian North. I visited the European part of the Russian Arctic — regions like Karelia — and what I saw left a deep impression. These areas are extraordinarily rich in natural resources, culture, and history. Yet, rather than prosperity, I saw enormous degradation. Many northern regions have lost up to 20% of their inhabitants over the past decades. This human exodus contradicts the Russian government's narrative of the Arctic as a strategic region undergoing massive state-led investment. The trajectory on the ground is one of decline — not development. I believe that this situation is unacceptable.

We started Arctida as a voluntary project with a few like-minded individuals conducting small-scale research and sharing information through social media channels. Today, Arctida has become a more stable organisation with full-time staff, although the political situation remains precarious. I am a designated 'foreign agent' in Russia and also on the country’s wanted list, so I am forced to work from exile, and funding is always a challenge. Despite these obstacles, we have carved out a niche by addressing three interconnected issues that no other organisation combines in the same way: climate change, kleptocracy, and indigenous rights.

Climate change is the central force reshaping the Arctic. Rising temperatures and melting permafrost threaten ecosystems and human communities. Yet, instead of responding to these challenges, the Russian state uses the climate crisis as a pretext to accelerate resource extraction. Vast industrial projects — often linked to the military-industrial complex — are being pushed forward with little transparency or regard for environmental or social costs. Our organisation brings together experts from disbanded Russian environmental NGOs to document how these extractive projects contribute to both environmental degradation and human suffering.

Kleptocracy is the second pillar of our work, and it is an issue that I have carried over from my anti-corruption background. The Arctic is not just a remote frontier — it is one of the biggest black holes in Russia's political economy. Major industrial projects are dominated by state-affiliated oligarchs and their networks, who siphon off resources with impunity. What makes this problem truly global is the involvement of foreign partners — from Chinese companies to Western corporations — who participate in these opaque deals. In one investigation, we traced how gold mining operations in Chukotka involved not only Russian oligarchs but also former Ukrainian officials tied to the Yanukovych regime. These kinds of cross-border kleptocratic networks often go unnoticed in mainstream coverage of the Arctic.

The third pillar — indigenous rights — ties the other two issues together. Indigenous communities are disproportionately affected by both climate change and corruption. Yet their voices are systematically excluded from decision-making processes. Russian authorities often instrumentalise indigenous groups to promote state-backed agendas, such as lobbying for sanctions relief. But when it comes to issues like environmental degradation or land rights, these communities are ignored. At Arctida, we work closely with indigenous activists and researchers to ensure their perspectives are included in every publication we produce.

In essence, our vision is to promote what we call the concept of 'many Arctics' — an approach that rejects the simplistic image of the Arctic as a homogenous resource frontier. We want to challenge the top-down, extractive model imposed by the Russian state and its corporate partners.

66° North: Do you think of yourself as an organisation in exile that prepares to bring perspectives on the Russian Arctic to Russian internal debates if the political situation changes? Or do you see yourself as an organisation primarily focused on advocacy abroad, speaking to international audiences about the Russian Arctic?

Ilia Shumanov: We try to reach both audiences, Russian and international. Around half of our staff remain in Russia, which allows us to stay connected with the realities on the ground and the everyday struggles of people in the Arctic regions. At the same time, there's a growing demand from international stakeholders – both Western countries and the Global South – for independent expertise on the Russian Arctic. Since the war began, Russia has become a kind of black box, but we know how to access data and explain what is happening in the region.

66° North: Alright, then let’s talk about one of your recent projects – your stakeholder map of the Russian Arctic. This project lays out the key players shaping policy and power structures in the region. In Western academic and policy discussions, Russian Arctic governance is often seen as highly centralised, with most directives flowing downwards directly from the Kremlin. But your report shows a much more complex picture of intersecting power networks. Could you walk me through this project and explain how power actually works in the Russian Arctic today?

Ilia Shumanov: It's a vast and intricate system – you could easily spend two or more hours explaining all the details. Since 2022, we've been systematically mapping key players in the Russian Arctic and the connections between them. This year, we're updating our research with an interactive diagram that visualises these networks across multiple layers, covering thousands of individuals and organisations.

Our research is based entirely on open data, which remains a crucial resource even as the Russian authorities restrict information. We map out major business groups, particularly mining companies, alongside regional and federal authorities, security agencies, and state-affiliated NGOs.

One of our key findings is the rising influence of Nikolai Patrushev, a long-time Putin ally. We were the first organisation to identify Patrushev's growing role in the region. Our research also traces how businesses in the Russian Arctic are tied to Putin's inner circle – figures like Sergey Chemezov of Rostec – and how these networks operate through both formal channels and informal relationships.

Another crucial aspect of our work is exposing the role of GONGOs – government-organised NGOs – which pose as independent civil society groups while advancing the interests of the state and extractive industries. One example is RAIPON, a state-backed indigenous organisation that receives government subsidies and lobbies against sanctions at international forums like the Arctic Council and the United Nations. We’ve documented how RAIPON works closely with the FSB and the presidential administration to neutralise independent indigenous voices and support business interests like Nornickel.

Finally, we've uncovered surprising connections, such as links between Arctic regional governments and figures from Ramzan Kadyrov's Chechen networks, which are involved in controlling financial flows in the region. These kinds of hidden alliances show how the Russian Arctic is governed not just through top-down directives but through a web of competing interests and opaque relationships.

66° North: And how has the political landscape in the Russian Arctic evolved for people on the ground, especially for indigenous folks? Has it deteriorated due to the war in Ukraine or the Russian government’s increasing use of Arctic resources?

Ilia Shumanov: The political situation in the Russian Arctic is complex, especially when we talk about demographics. The region has a unique challenge: despite the federal government's attempts to increase the population—through initiatives like the “Arctic Hectare” program, which offers free land in the Arctic to Russian citizens—the population is still declining. Regions like Komi and Murmansk have lost about a fifth of their population in recent years. Even though there are some exceptions, like Yamal and the Sakha Republic, which have seen slight growth due to oil and gas industries, the broader trend is one of depopulation. And the programs meant to counter this aren’t really working; in a survey we conducted, about half of respondents hadn’t even heard of the Arctic hectare program, and many who did didn’t think it was successful.

When it comes to the indigenous groups in the region, the situation is equally tricky. To be recognised as a “small-numbered indigenous people” (коренной малочисленный народ) under Russian law, their population has to be under 50,000. This recognition gives them some legal protections for their land, traditions, and identity, but it’s not enough to counter the real challenges they face. The pressure from state policies and corporations, like big energy companies, is constant. These groups have been fighting for meaningful rights for decades, but it’s a tough battle.

Since the war in Ukraine began, things have only gotten worse for indigenous activists. Many of them, like Andrei Danilov and Mark Zdor, who were prominent voices advocating for indigenous rights, have had to flee the country due to safety concerns. These are the people who are at the forefront of the fight for indigenous communities, but they are now exiled because of the increasing repression.

“Many organisations that were once independent, like the Russian Indigenous Peoples’ Organisation, have been co-opted by the regime. They’ve even endorsed Russia’s so-called special military operation.”

Another major issue is that many organisations that were once independent, like RAIPON, the Russian Indigenous Peoples’ Organisation, have been co-opted by the government. They’ve even endorsed Russia’s so-called “special military operation”. This is the price they pay for continuing to exist under the current regime. Just recently, reports surfaced showing RAIPON's ties to the Russian government and its connections to industries like Nornickel, one of the biggest extractive companies in the country. It’s become clear that these organisations no longer represent the real interests of indigenous peoples; instead, they’re part of the state’s propaganda machine.

Things escalated even further in 2024 when the Russian government officially labeled several independent indigenous organisations, like the Aborigen-Forum and Indigenous Russia, as extremist or even terrorist entities. This is a part of a broader crackdown on civil society in Russia. Hundreds of regional and indigenous organisations have been blacklisted, and any individual associated with these groups is now at risk. If you're connected to a group that's been labeled terrorist, it means you’re at risk too. It's a dangerous time for anyone fighting for indigenous rights in Russia.

And when it comes to the war, it’s been especially devastating for indigenous communities. There has been a disproportionate mobilisation of indigenous people into the military, with entire communities seeing large numbers of their men conscripted. This has put some of these communities in a perilous position. There have been cases where entire villages lost half of their male population, which is a direct threat to their survival as a community. The war isn’t just a political issue; it’s also a matter of life or death for some of these indigenous groups. The mobilisation rates in places like Tuva, Buryatia, and the northern regions have been much higher than in Moscow or St. Petersburg, and it’s leading to the real possibility of extinction for some of these small, vulnerable communities. The UN has raised concerns about this mass mobilisation and the long-term impact it could have on the survival of these groups.

66° North: So what you're saying is that indigenous males from the Russian North have been disproportionately affected by recruitment for the war, much like those from, say, Tuva, Buryatia or the North Caucasus?

Ilia Shumanov: Yes, exactly. But if you compare the situation in Tuva, for example, with, say, the Dolgans in the Russian North, the difference is one of scale. You have populations in Tuva that number in the hundreds of thousands, while indigenous groups like the Dolgans are much smaller—only a few thousand. Losing even a small number of men from these tiny communities can have devastating consequences. If, say, a dozen or more men are taken from a community, it could very well threaten the survival of that group. It's not just a matter of losing people; it's about losing the very foundation of the community.

“There's this perception that indigenous people are great hunters—this kind of imagery is used to paint them as capable soldiers for the war in Ukraine.”

The comparison with more southerly regions makes sense in terms of the vulnerability of certain minority groups, especially in terms of low income levels, which make people susceptible to army recruitment. But there’s also a darker side to this: the government uses certain stereotypes in its propaganda to target indigenous groups for recruitment. There's this perception that indigenous people are great hunters—this kind of imagery is used to paint them as capable soldiers, which, of course, is an incredibly reductive and harmful view. The government taps into these stereotypes, suggesting that indigenous men have the skills needed for warfare, when, in reality, it’s just a manipulation of their image for military purposes. It’s quite depressing, to be honest. But, yes, it’s a real issue.

66° North: You mentioned earlier that the Russian Arctic is vital for Russia's economy, especially in regards to the large energy projects in the region. Given the international sanctions on Russia, how do you see the future exploitation of these resource deposits play out?

Ilia Shumanov: Well, it’s important to remember that the Arctic is seen by Russia as a treasure trove of resources, a critical element for their future economic survival. But even with all that wealth beneath the surface, there’s a clear tension right now. You have the resources, but sanctions and the broader geopolitical situation are really starting to affect Russia’s ability to access and exploit those resources effectively. Since 2017, there’s been a noticeable decline in Russia’s share of Arctic gas production, from 90% to 85%. Now, that might seem like a small drop, but it’s still a significant hit.

With the war, and the global sanctions that have followed, that 5% drop has come at a massive cost. We're talking about trillions of Russian rubles that could have been reinvested into the country, but are instead being lost. The oil and gas sector, which is central to Russia's economy, has been particularly hard hit. The sanctions have caused a real slowdown in production, especially since 2022. The decline in production is about 2.8% for oil, and about 4-5% for gas, which is not insignificant.

And yes, we might see a slight recovery, particularly because Russia is redirecting its oil and gas to Asia, but even that’s a patchwork solution. The infrastructure isn’t fully in place to support this shift, and that's going to take years to build, if not decades. The ability of Russia to sustain its energy industries in the Arctic, especially with the shrinking ability to access international markets and limited investment opportunities, is under serious question.

66° North: So, in light of all these difficulties, what’s the outlook for the major energy projects like Arctic LNG 2 and Vostok Oil? How do you think these projects will evolve under sanctions, particularly with the push from Russian officials to partner with foreign companies like those in the UAE and China?

Ilia Shumanov: Novatek’s Arctic LNG 2, for example, has been one of the big hopes for Russia in terms of becoming a major player in the global liquefied natural gas (LNG) market. But it’s struggled with technological shortages from the very beginning, especially after the sanctions hit.

“The gas produced in the Arctic is not accessible for the domestic Russian market, which complicates things even further for Moscow.”

But the biggest issue here is the infrastructure challenge. The gas produced in the Arctic is not even accessible for the domestic Russian market, which complicates things even further. The entire infrastructure was built to serve the export market, so creating a domestic distribution system could take decades. This is a huge bottleneck.

Then, looking at the oil sector, Rosneft’s Vostok Oil project has been postponed until 2026. The oil services that are needed to actually get this project off the ground are still heavily dependent on foreign technologies, especially those from the U.S. and Europe. Without them, it's hard to move forward. And, of course, you have the issue of the shadow fleet. A lot of vessels that were previously used to transport Russian oil and gas have been sanctioned. This means the entire logistics system for getting these resources out of the Arctic has been severely disrupted.

66° North: I think I share your pessimistic view on these projects. On a related note, how do you assess Russia’s progress on developing the Northern Sea Route?

Ilia Shumanov: The North Sea Route is another area that Putin had high hopes for, with official targets saying that by the end of last year, they wanted to see 80 million tonnes of cargo transported via this route. But the reality is far from that target. And the reason for this is quite simple: logistical bottlenecks, especially with the specialised vessels needed to navigate the route, have made it very difficult to reach those targets.

Rosatom, which is in charge of the route, has seen its projections fall short, and while there has been some growth, it’s been small and not as substantial as the Kremlin had hoped. There’s no doubt that this logistical route could become more important in the future, particularly if sanctions are eventually lifted and Russia can reestablish ties with Europe and other global markets. But right now, the North Sea Route is falling short of its potential.

66° North: And what about the role of Chinese and UAE-based companies in shipping on the NSR? You mentioned earlier that these countries are hesitant to get involved in Russian Arctic energy projects because of the risk of secondary sanctions. Do you see any potential for cooperation with them on the NSR?

Ilia Shumanov: It’s clear that both the UAE and China are waiting to see how the geopolitical situation unfolds. If the war in Ukraine comes to an end and sanctions are lifted, then we could see more active involvement from these countries. But right now, I don’t see much movement. A lot of Chinese and UAE-based companies are in a holding pattern, hesitant to make any significant moves until there’s more clarity on the global sanctions landscape.

66° North: Let's wrap up with a final question on renewable energy in the Russian Arctic. This region is typically associated with fossil fuel production and high per capita fossil fuel consumption. However, Arctic territories have significant potential for renewable energy. How do renewables and the green transition factor into the present and future of the Russian Arctic?

“Most Russian Arctic regions have now adopted climate adaptation plans, acknowledging climate risks such as floods, hurricanes, heatwaves, permafrost thaw, and wildfires.”

Ilia Shumanov: Despite its reliance on fossil fuels, Russia still promotes a climate agenda on some levels. Most Russian Arctic regions have adopted climate adaptation plans, acknowledging climate risks such as floods, hurricanes, heatwaves, permafrost thaw, and wildfires. Our research at Arctida found that these regions are beginning to estimate the economic impact of climate extremes. For instance, the Republic of Karelia reported $8.5 million in damages from natural disasters between 2005 and 2020, about 1% of its annual budget. In the Khanty-Mansi Autonomous Okrug, climate-related damages amounted to over 4 billion rubles, exceeding 1% of the regional budget.

A major concern is permafrost thaw, which affects infrastructure stability. Over 80% of buildings and engineering structures in the Russian Arctic have experienced deformation due to permafrost melting. This poses a significant risk, as a large portion of Arctic infrastructure could become structurally unsound. The 2020 fuel spill in Norilsk—one of the worst environmental disasters in the Arctic—demonstrated the consequences of neglecting these risks.

Regarding renewable energy, our research indicates that the current renewable capacity in Russian Arctic regions is hundreds or even thousands of times lower than the total installed capacity of regional energy systems. In some areas, it is close to zero. However, there are exceptions. The Republic of Karelia and the Murmansk region have small-scale hydropower plants, many of which date back to the Soviet era. Some regions, such as Krasnoyarsk, are implementing energy efficiency measures and promoting electric public transport.

That said, Russia's energy strategy still prioritises large-scale fossil fuel extraction. Major industry figures like Mikhelson, Timchenko, and Sechin—who are closely tied to President Putin—favor expanding fossil fuel production over investing in renewables. While critical minerals extraction is growing in the Arctic, particularly in the Murmansk region, this is more about resource exploitation than a true energy transition.

Although small-scale renewables exist in some Arctic regions—such as wind and solar projects in the Sakha Republic—these efforts remain limited. Some regions are experimenting with hybrid energy systems that combine solar and diesel generation to reduce fuel costs, but such projects are rare. Overall, only a handful of Russian Arctic regions are genuinely invested in renewable energy and the green transition, and without stronger federal support, these efforts may remain insufficient and too late to make a meaningful impact.

66° North: Ilia, one last question before I let you go—how can my readers support your work?

Ilia Shumanov: We have a donation programme. But more importantly, we are a small, young organisation, and we value engagement. We maintain social media accounts in Russian and English, where we expose corruption and kleptocracy schemes—not just in the Russian Arctic, but also involving intermediaries in the UAE, India, Europe, and the Middle East. We also cover environmental destruction, indigenous rights violations, and sanction evasion.

If your readers could follow us on social media, that would be incredibly helpful. I’ll send over the links. And, of course, for those who would like to donate, we would greatly appreciate any support.

You can follow Arctida’s work on X, LinkedIn, Instagram, or Telegram. If you would like to support the work of Arctida with a donation, please click here.

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