Russian Private Military Companies: How Mercenaries Have Become a Major Part of the Russian Toolkit and What the U.S. Can Do About It

July 30, 2021

This week, the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) released a truly excellent report, entitled, “Russia’s Corporate Soldiers: The Global Expansion of Russia’s Private Military Companies”, by Dr. Seth G. Jones, Catrina Doxsee, Brian Katz, Eric McQueen, and Joe Moye. The report is a deep dive into the history and use of Russian private military companies (PMCs), which have been used throughout the world, the authors argue, to expand Russian influence, build the military capacity of its partners, and create and maintain economic gains in foreign countries. These PMCs, through strong links with Russia’s Main Intelligence Directorate (GRU), Federal Security Service (FSB), Foreign Intelligence Service (SVR), and the Kremlin itself, operate as de facto extensions of the Russian government, and specifically the interests of Vladimir Putin and his oligarch associates.

The CSIS report is a vital look at how private military companies form the backbone of one of the main elements of Russia’s gray zone/hybrid warfare tools. It demonstrates how Russia’s use of PMCs has expanded in recent years, primarily due to the experience that these groups had gained during their deployments abroad. The report begins with an overall look at the rise of these organizations, and then proceeds to a series of case studies demonstrating these groups’ evolution over time, before closing with a discussion of the vulnerabilities these companies have, and how the United States can go about countering their use. In addition, while the only touch on the idea, the rise of Russian PMCs and the expansion of their use around the world has to be seen as part of the overall expansion of Russian gray-zone/hybrid warfare, as exemplified by the increase in the number of Russian- or Russian-based cyberattacks, foreign election interference, as well as miscellaneous influence operations throughout the world.  

What are Private Military Companies? How are they used?

The report begins with a definition of private military companies as firms that, “perform operational and tactical support during military operations, train state and non-state forces, and conduct other military support services—including collecting and analyzing intelligence, offering protective services, equipping forces, providing site security, and conducting propaganda, disinformation, and information operations.” Interestingly, the authors note that under Article 359 of the 1996 Russian Criminal Code, the recruitment, training, financing or material provision of a mercenary or their use, carries a 4-8 year prison term. This law enables the Putin government to maintain control over these private military companies, as at any time, the Russian government can disavow their operations and target them through the application of existing Russian laws. This legal distinction contrasts with the laws of the United States, United Kingdom, France, and China, which have all legalized the operation of PMCs. In addition, all four are signatories of the 2008 Committee of the Red Cross Montreux Document on international good practices for the use of PMCs in armed conflicts.

Starting in 2015, the Russian government has expanded its use of PMCs around the globe, using them, for example, in the Central African Republic, Madagascar, Sudan, Democratic Republic of the Congo and Libya in Africa; in Belarus and Ukraine in Europe; in Syria, Yemen, and Iraq in the Middle East; in Afghanistan and Azerbaijan in Eurasia; and even in Venezuela in Latin America. Over the course of those deployments, these PMCs have taken on a variety of missions and tasks, with varying levels of funding. However, despite these differences, their use has been a logical extension of Russia’s overall embrace of irregular warfare under Vladimir Putin. 

While the authors note that Russia has made use of mercenaries throughout its history, dating back to the Cossacks in the 18th century, or even during Soviet times, the expansion in the use of PMCs really began in 2015, and was likely caused by a broader Russian desire to expand its influence after the successful annexation of Crimea and invasion of Ukraine. The main reasons for the use of these types of semi-deniable groups are that it helps Russia expand its influence while maintaining a reasonably low profile; it helps build and supplement partner capacity; and helps further the interests of the corrupt oligarchs that surround Putin, such as Wagner Group benefactor, Yevegeny Prigozhin. 

The CSIS report’s authors define the main tasks of these private military companies as conducting combat operations such as combined-arms maneuver, forward air control, reconnaissance, mine clearance, fire support; collecting and analyzing intelligence by recruiting human sources, guiding intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) platforms, or collecting signals intelligence (SIGINT); conducting protective security services like providing security for VIPs; training and equipping forces such as Khalifa Haftar’s Libyan National Army; providing site security, such as security for transport convoys for companies like Gazprom and Rosatom; and conducting propaganda and disinformation campaigns to disseminate pro-Russian narratives or building field organizations and “patriotic youth camps” on the ground in foreign countries.

This variety of different tasks which PMCs, and their troops, can provide, demonstrates why Russia has sought to use them as a low-risk, high-reward alternative to supplying conventional troops to partner countries: they enable the Kremlin to maintain plausible deniability about what those forces are doing on the ground, while also having the advantage that, if they are killed, the domestic backlash to the deaths of PMC contractors would be much less than if they were regular Russian Army forces.

Case Study – Ukraine 

The report then proceeds to a series of case studies, looking at Russian PMC deployments in Ukraine, Syria, Libya, and Sub-Saharan Africa, breaking down each countries PMC experiences into the following areas: Roles and missions performed by PMCs, the key drivers behind PMCs use, and an assessment of their success (or lack thereof), and how that influences Russian PMC use going forward. Through this framing, the authors are able to show the almost natural evolution of the use of these groups in conflicts, along with the, somewhat, predictable drawbacks to their use. 

Beginning with Ukraine, the authors look at how, in the initial stages of Russia’s intervention, PMCs were used in subordinate, mostly auxiliary roles, operating under Russian commanders.  However, as the war proceeded, and the PMCs demonstrated their usefulness, these PMC forces began to take on a more central role, serving as primary assault forces in Donbas, with 2,500-5,000 Russian mercenaries on the ground during the peak of fighting in 2015. Some of the major Russian PMCs that were involved in the fighting were Wagner Group, the most notorious of Russian private military companies, E.N.O.T. Corporation, and Moran Security Group. As part of their combat missions in Ukraine, these groups were tasked with conducting raids, and ambushes; using combined arms (armor, rockets, artillery, etc.) and anti-air to attack and defend; and participate in ground assaults, which they did after replacing Special Operations Forces (SOF) and Spetsnaz troops on the front lines. 

These PMC troops were also used for paramilitary tasks like training and advising Donetsk People’s Republic (DPR) and Luhansk People’s Republic (LPR) militias; training those militias on specialized equipment and weapons systems including armor and air defense systems; intel collection, sabotage, and covert influence operations to mobilize residents against the Kyiv government or eliminate rebel leaders who refused to follow Russian instructions. Finally, these PMC troops were also responsible for agitprop, conducted via seized local radio and TV stations; propaganda and disinformation campainsgs working alongside “hacktivists” in painting Ukraine as a “neo-Nazi” or “terrorist” state; and the creation of “patirot youth camps” to indoctrinate young people into accepting more pro-Russian attitudes. 

For Russia, there were a number of drivers of its intervention, as it served military, geopolitical, and even ideological goals. As the authors contend, the use of PMCs in Ukraine by Russia was not just about supplementing its conventional forces, but rather to serve as a test bed for the use of these unconventional forces in future hybrid operations. Ukraine therefore served as a laboratory for how and where to deploy PMCs, as well as which private military company operated the most effectively. This enabled the Kremlin to evaluate its proxy forces to see how much of a force multiplier that they could be. From a geopolitical standpoint, PMCs allowed for execution of an overall Russian strategy predicated on the use of mobility, speed, and communications tools in order to facilitate a rapid seizure of territory, while still allowing Russia to deny official involvement, slowing international responses. In addition, the use of private military companies allows Russia to withdraw their conventional troops, while still maintaining presence on the ground, enabling the Kremlin to retain influence on the situation long after its troops are gone. Finally, from an ideological perspective, the war showcased Moscow’s commitment to Russian-speaking and Slavic peoples, with the victory allowing Putin to extol a resurgent “Russian nationalism” in the face of threats by “fascists” in Kyiv or “globalists” in the West. 

As far as the lessons that were learned from Russia’s foray into Ukraine, the Kremlin learned a series of lessons: that by keeping the focus on expanding and consolidating gains in southeast Ukraine with like-minded separatists, Russia avoided the mission-creep that would have accompanied attempts for territorial gains in north and west Ukraine, which likely would have triggered greater Western involvement; that PMCs were more effective in the early days of combat in 2014 and 2015, before Western training and equipment enabled Ukrainain forces to stabilize the front lines, preventing further separatist encroachment; and that the geographic and cultural proximity between the PMCs and those they were asked to train enabled LPR and DPR separatists to maintain readiness, all while maintaining a reasonable degree of deniability for the Kremlin. However, as will be seen, the remaining case studies will show Russia venturing further afield, reducing the overall synergy between Russian PMCs and the forces they embed with, yielding less desirable results, overall.

Case Study – Syria

Beginning in 2012, in response to the Islamic State taking control over large parts of Syria, Russian PMCs began to be deployed, supporting the regime of President Bashar al-Assad against the Islamic State, and then against rebel forces in the Syrian civil war as part of the overall Russian support to Assad. As the war dragged on, PMCs would transition from more peripheral roles like VIP escort or site security to direct combat roles in operations in Palmyra and Dayr az Zawr.  These PMCs included E.N.O.T., Vostok Battalion, and Wagner Group. Though the PMCs did not have the same type of synergistic similarity to the troops they were partnering with, as in Ukraine, they were complemented by capable partners such as the Iranian Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps – Quds Force (IRGC-QF), Lebanese Hezbollah, and the Syrian Army Tiger Forces. 

In contrast to Ukraine, the primary mission for Russian PMCs took on more of a paramilitary flavor, as they began by training and equipping Shia militias such as Palestinian Liwa al-Quds or the pro-Assad 5th Volunteer Assault Corps. As part of that paramilitary role, PMCs also served as liaison between non-state forces and coordinated Russian airstrikes out of Hmeimim Airfield. 

In addition to those paramilitary tasks, the Russian PMCs were asked to conduct some combat operations in Aleppo, Homs, Hama, and Greater Damascus; conduct recon and targeting of pro-regime troops and forward air control for airstrikes; work as maneuver elements, assisting Russian SOF troops in holding and clearing territory, as well as aiding in combat logistics, as in the battle to take Dayr az Zawr; utilize artillery strikes; conduct site security at key energy infrastructure sites as well as Hmeimim Airfield; and capture oil fields, refineries, gas plants, and other infrastructure. The authors note that another of Wagner’s Yevgeny Prigozhin’s firms, Evro Polis, signed petroleum, gas, and other contracts with the Assad regime, and has solicited further PMC support for site security. 

Finally, in addition to paramilitary and combat support operations, Russian private military companies provided assistance with intel sharing and liaising with pro-regime units; in addition, as these PMCs operate outside of direct Russian control, they help the Assad regime create a narrative that they are instead, enthusiastic volunteers, simply expressing the will of the Russian people to assist the pro-regime forces. 

As with Ukraine, Russian involvement in Syria serves to advance goals in three areas: geopolitical, military and economic. On the geopolitical front, the authors contend, Moscow’s success in Syria has enabled it to leverage its status as a mediator, mitigate the ISIS threat, draw profits from favorable energy deals, and push out the United States and its partners. While it took on huge risks to do so, Russia’s use of PMCs helped reduce overall costs, increase their level of deniability, and helped it avoid public scrutiny that would come with large numbers of troop deaths (which were seen in the fight for Dayr az Zawr, which saw the deaths of between 200-300 pro-Syrian forces, including Russian mercenaries). Militarily speaking, Russian PMCs in Syria enabled Russia to augment its SOF troops with capable and motivated ground units; to strengthen the regime; and provide training, equipping, and enabling support to loyal, pro-regime, forces. From an economic standpoint, PMCs provided the Kremlin with a way to build new revenue streams from oil, gas, and minerals, reducing the impact of Western sanctions. Russia enabled this push between 2017-2019 by focusing regime offensives on securing key energy infrastructure sites, culminating in the competition for oil-rich Dayr az Zawr along the Euphrates. 

As far as the lessons learned in Syria, the Russian experience here was overall a positive one, but to a much lesser extent than in Ukraine. The first lesson learned was that though PMCs can bolster the total number of troops on the ground, PMC contractors tend to lack the training and skill of Russian conventional troops, meaning that they frequently fall short of capturing specific military objectives, especially when confronted by superior forces, as in Dayr az Zawr. Another key lesson learned in Syria was that, once again, having capable allies and partners, such as Hezbollah or the IRGC-QF, allows for easier coordination and training of partner forces. Finally, the last major lesson learned was that as social media proliferates, information is more easily and readily available, and as casualties mount, it will become more and more difficult for Russia to hide PMC deployments and the deaths of those contractors, limiting PMCs overall usefulness, both geopolitically and domestically. 

Case Study – Libya 

In the case of Libya, Russia deployed its PMCs to bolster the forces of Khalifa Haftar, his Libyan National Army (LNA), and the eastern-based government in Tobruk, known as the House of Representatives, in its fight against the Government of National Accord (GNA), based in Tripoli. While the deployment began as a limited intervention, it evolved into the largest combat deployment of PMC forces outside of Syria as Wagner, and other Prigozhin-linked entities, surged in the summer of 2019 to boost Haftar’s failing western campaign and enable an offensive against Tripoli. Bolstered by successes in Syria, Russia saw a chance to harness the combat experience that PMCs had gained in the Levant to support Haftar in his efforts to take over the country, thus establishing a patronage relationship with the potential future leader of the country, enabling future concessions by Libya, including revitalizing energy deals, defense contracts, and basing rights along the Mediterannean. 

As in Syria, Russian PMCs primarily began in a paramilitary support role, beginning in 2016 by training, equipping, and advising the LNA. This aided the LNA in their push into central and western Libya. The CSIS authors state that the Wagner Group troops formed the vanguard of Russian PMC involvement in the 2016 push, with between several hundred to two thousand contractors on the ground at the height of the Russain intervention. As far as equipment provision goes, Russia reportedly began shipments of weapons and materials to Tobruk as early as 2015—and in 2016, LNA forces equipped with Russian armaments, including desert vehicles, infrared missiles, and combat aircraft with night-strike capacity seized key oil terminals in the Libyan oil crescent. Further, in 2017, Russian-provisioned weaponry helped Haftar achieve victory in Benghazi. 

On the training front, Russian PMC contractors in 2016 began specialized training for Haftar’s forces on key weapons systems including Russian tanks, artillery, and aircraft, and by 2017, a mix of dozens of Wagner, GRU, and Spetsnaz troops had established training bases in Benghazi and Tobruk. Furthermore, by the following year, Wagner alone had deployed 300 troops to Benghazi with a focus on training the LNA in combined arms operations. This training helped assist LNA forces as they continued their push into central and western Libya in 2018, with PMC troops enabling LNA airstrikes, ISR, and electronic-warfare. Furthermore, PMC contractors embedded with frontline units to direct advances, and as the LNA continued to advance, Wagner contractors deployed to Al Jufra Air base to further enable LNA advances on Tripoli, providing tank and artillery crews as well as logistics and other combat support services. 

On the combat front, Russian PMCs were not numerically decisive, but played a key role as snipers, forward air control, and conducting fighter operations. This is in addition to the Pantsir S-1 surface-to-air missile (SAM) and anti-aircraft (AA) artillery systems that were deployed to Al Jufra to defend against Turkish strikes on Russian combat aircraft, though Russian PMCs lost several of those systems to Turkish airstrikes and were eventually forced to abandon some of them, an embarrassing failure for Moscow. 

In addition to those combat-related roles, Wagner Group intelligence specialists embedded with LNA units to direct ISR from Al Jufra,  and Wagner pilots took over operational control over the LNAs fleet of UAE-provisioned, Chinese-made Wing Loong drones. These drones provided key tactical intel for LNA gains near Tripoli in late 2019 while armed versions conducted precision strikes on GNA targets. From a covert influence perspective, Wagner’s objective was to initially strengthen Moscow’s influence with Haftar through the provision of advisers, but as Haftar’s advances stalled in 2019, Russian intelligence began hedging its bets, helping install Qaddafi-era figures around Haftar, who would be more loyal to Russia. In addition, the Russians maintained a relationship with Seif al-Islam al-Qaddafi. From an information operations standpoint, a Yevgeny Prigozhin-linked group was found to have been manipulating the local media environment, buying up state-run TV station Al-Jamahiriya TV, formerly under the control of Qaddafi, and supportive of Seif al-Islam al-Qaddafi. These groups also created a pro-LNA newspaper, Voice of the People, and consulted on Alhadath, a Haftar-aligned TV station. 

Additionally, PMC deployments, such as one by RSB-group, were also responsible for site security of key infrastructure and logistics sites throughout the country, especially oil and gas terminals, oil fields, and petrochemical complexes. 

As always, the key drivers for Moscow’s decisions were geopolitical, military, and economic. On the geopolitical front, its decision to involve itself in Libya was based both on wanting to increase its positions in North Africa and the Mediterrannean as well as to enhance Moscow’s stature as a global player in the region. As with the Geneva Process for Syria and the Minsk Process for Ukraine, intervention gave Russia a seat at the future diplomatic table and a veto over any resolution to the conflict that is inimical to their interests, giving the Kremlin a strong hand in ensuring an acceptable slate of representatives in Libya’s transitional government. 

From a military, as well as economic standpoint, the deployment of PMC forces enabled Russia to project power in the region at a reasonable distance, while retaining some deniability. The Kremlin also viewed the intervention as a way to restore stability in a country where it believed the U.S. had sowed chaos and instability in its operation to overthrow Qaddafi, affecting its existing oil and gas contracts in the country. Further, Russia was concerned with the rise of Madkhali Salafists post-Qaddafi, and saw the provision of PMC forces to Haftar as a way to hedge against their continued rise. In addition, as mentioned above, this military support would, in the Kremlin’s estimation, turn Haftar into a pliable proxy, giving it the access and energy contracts it desired as soon as the war ended. However, as history has shown, this was not to be.

The result of all this intervention has been a revelation of the limits of the PMC-focused, proxy-warfare approach. These limits were exposed for a number of reasons, the first of which was that PMC assistance helped trigger a huge counter-escalation from Turkey, which Moscow was ultimately unable and unwilling to match. Furthermore, PMC troops in Libya lacked the support of conventional Russian troops, and when up against a Russian peer-competitor like Turkey, PMC contractors were no match, resulting in huge casualties. In addition, Russian PMCs were confronted with an imperfect ally in Khalifa Haftar, whose flawed leadership and poor military decisionmaking made Kremlin policy makers lose confidence in him, eventually leading to their cultivation of ties with Seif al-Islam al-Qaddafi. Additionally, in Libya, Russia saw the limits to how covert PMC deployments can be, as U.S. African Command (AFRICOM) regularly published satellite imagery showing how Russia had deployed combat aircraft or violated the UN arms embargo. Finally, Russian PMCs information ops were often clumsy and easily discovered by tech platforms, who removed them, and mocked by locals. 

Still, the results were not entirely bad for Moscow, as its involvement did result in obtaining influence on the new GNA in Tripoli, ensuring their future involvement in unification talks, as well as an end-state in Libya that is agreeable to their interests. A key question going forward will be whether these private military companies will depart the country, as required by the Second Berlin Conference on Libya. 

Case Study – Sub-Saharan Africa

The report then proceeds to a discussion of Russian PMC involvement in sub-Saharan Africa, through the lens of Russian involvement in Sudan, the Central African Republic (CAR), Madagascar, and Mozambique. Throughout the continent, Russian involvement has been more overtly predatory, with their sights set on natural resources contracts and mineral/energy exploitation. 

In Sudan, Wagner was initially deployed in order to support the government of Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir, to suppress protestors and, according to the Jamestown Foundation’s Sergey Sukhankin, “hammer out beneficial conditions for…Russian companies.” In return, Moscow received gold mining concessions as well as the right to establish a naval base on the Red Sea. As part of their involvement in Sudan, Russian PMC contractors have operated as site security at gold mining operations in the country, particularly the now-sanctioned Prigozhin-linked Meroe Gold and its parent company, M-Invest. In addition, in the lead up to the 2018-2019 revolution, Wagner worked with the Sudanese National Intelligence and Security Services to respond to anti-government protests through both physical confrontations with protestors as well as information operations. 

In the Central African Republic, Wagner Group helped facilitate the intake and distribution of weapons and equipment, providing security for mining and extraction sites, as well as providing military training to the presidential guard and the army. Furthermore, in recent months, Russian mercenaries have led government forces in battle to oust rebels from several towns, with the number of contractors on the ground as high as 2,100, according to a recent United Nations report. In addition, Prigozhin-linked operatives such as Valery Zakharov, a former GRU official with ties to the FSB, serves as Faustin-Archange Touadéra’s national security advisor. 

In Madagascar, PMC contractors linked to Prigozhin and Wagner Group supported candidates in the 2018 election, provided military training and assistance, and conducted information operations, all in exchange for access to mining, oil, agriculture, and ports. In addition, the authors argue that this PMC involvement paved the way for the military cooperation agreement that was signed between the two countries in October 2018.

In Mozambique, Wagner has provided equipment and indirect military support in order to counter the ongoing Islamist insurgency in the northern part of the country. In gaining the Mozambique contract, Wagner beat out other regional PMCs, surprising experts, who worried about their lack of regional experience. However, the regional PMCs could not beat the low-costs and political connections that Wagner brought, resulting in their selection. However, Wagner struggled mightily in Mozambique, as they had little experience conducting counterinsurgency operations in the dense bush of Cabo Delgado and difficulty coordinating with locals due to language barriers and mutual distrust. This eventually led the Wagner mercenaries to depart, and the Mozambican government to hire the South African-based Dyck Advisory Group, who were more familiar with local conditions. 

Across sub-Saharan Africa, unlike in Russia’s near-abroad and the Middle East and North Africa, the main driver of Russian interest was purely economic, as a series of shell companies such as Meroe Gold (Sudan), Lobaye Invest (CAR), and Ferrum Mining (Madagascar) acting as stalking horses for Russian mineral interests on the continent. In addition, Russian state-owned nuclear conglomerate Rosatom began outreach in 2017 to dozens of African nations to offer cooperation deals, which Moscow has sought to integrate into its contractor agreements. From a geopolitical standpoint, Russian PMC involvement in Africa sought to revive relationships that had lapsed since the end of the Cold War, as well as to expand Russian power projection through basing rights on the Red Sea through Port Sudan. The authors also argue that through the use of PMCs, Russia attempted to undercut the French relationship with its former colonies such as Madagascar or the CAR. 

Finally, from a military standpoint, the authors contend that Russian motives were to: strengthen relationships, focusing on defense and security relationships, including the first-ever Russia-Africa Summit in 2019, attended by 43 of 54 African countries; establishing Russia as a growing leader in arms sales on the continent, as shown by the fact that Russia commands nearly 38% of the continent’s total arms sales, compared to just 16% for the US and 9% for China; PMC deployments also coincided with the Kremlin’s goal of establishing military bases in key strategic locations, as PMC contractors provide a gateway to further security discussions, which can end up in bases such as Port Sudan. 

In terms of lessons learned, in Africa, PMCs most starkly have shown their limits as a tool to expand Russian power abroad. As the report demonstrates, private military companies tend to win contracts based on their affordability, and in Africa, local partners have gotten what they have paid for, essentially. Overall, though, four things stand out in terms of results in Africa: First, failures in Africa have been a result of either poor preparation or a lack of qualification for the deployment, as seen in Mozambique and Madagascar. Second, in their singular pursuit of Africa’s natural resources, Russian PMCs and their owners had to make use of a network of shell companies, which are vulnerable to U.S. Treasury Department sanctions. Third, PMCs in Africa have faced tensions with either the receiving society due to accusations of crimes against locals or an inability to operate in conjunction with partner military forces. Finally, the relationships between Russia and its African clients are not necessarily ideologically compatible, but more of a true financial transaction, with countries in Africa selecting Russian mercenaries primarily due to their competitive pricing. 

The CSIS report closes with a long discussion of the policy implications for the United States, including what options it has to counter Moscow’s growing usage of such groups. The authors argue that as long as PMCs retain any degree of deniability, Russia will continue their use to avoid real international culpability as well as domestic accountability for its actions abroad. Furthermore, PMCs only serve to elevate the threat posed by Russian disinformation and cyber operations. 

To create an effective campaign to counter their growth and influence, the authors argue for American efforts to be multilateral, especially involving European allies, and include multiple instruments of national power, ranging from diplomatic and intelligence capabilities to financial ones, combatting PMCs through the effective use of security cooperation, foreign internal defenses, and military information support operations. In addition, an effective campaign needs to be informed by proactive and timely intelligence, as the United States, the authors argue, has shown little systematic attention, analysis, coordination, and action regarding Russian PMCs, with the goal being to weaken their efficacy and influence around the world.

To further those goals, the authors advocate for more aggressive open source reporting among the United States and its allies, including more open-source intelligence (OSINT) on private military companies. This open-source information could help combat Russian narratives that PMCs are deployed simply to help friendly countries, so that future nations that consider bringing them in are suitably forewarned. In addition to highlighting Russian predations, such a spotlight on Russian PMCs would illustrate their relative lack of effectiveness in countries that are either far from the Russain homeland, or do not have the same type of partner forces to embed with that would achieve success as in Ukraine or Syria. In countries where these PMCs are already contracted, highlighting their failures, as well as offering to provide Western security and humanitarian assistance may be enough to wean those nations off of PMC usage. 

The authors also argue that there is a need for the United States and partner countries to conduct information operations to expose illicit activity by PMCs, to engage state leaders to act against PMCs that break local laws, and to pursue broader international statutes regulating the use of PMC conduct. 

In addition, the authors argue that there is a need to increase financial pressure on PMCs, as economic interests are the primary driver of their use, and the greater the costs that can be placed on their use, the harder it will be for PMCs to retain skilled contractors, who demand well-paying positions. The authors propose to achieve this goal through the use of anti-money laundering legislation, which has allowed the U.S. Treasury Department’s Financial Crimes Enforcement Network (FinCEN) to close gaps that PMCs currently exploit. In addition, the authors propose imposing sanctions on PMCs as well as their facilitation networks and shell companies to constraint their freedom of movement and operation. 

Finally, the authors propose that to really make a difference, the U.S. and its allies should directly target the operations of Wagner Group specifically, as Moscow relies on Wagner in a dozen countries, as opposed to the more industry-standard one to two. The authors argue that Wagner should be targeted in all of the aforementioned ways, including through OSINT, highlighting the Group’s relative ineffectiveness abroad, and healthengine legal and financial pressure on the groups. They also propose that the U.S. work with its European partners to coordinate multilateral sanctions on Wagner and organizations linked to Prigozhin. 

Conclusion

Overall, the authors propose a reasonable and actionable list of items that could really have an immediate impact on the use of Russian hybrid tactics abroad, netting victories for the United States in its competition with Russia while limiting the damage done by these, mostly unregulated, mercenaries around the world. All of this is needed, as Russian success in Ukraine and Syria has demonstrated the efficacy of PMCs if they are used properly and if they capitalize on their strengths, particularly supplementing already capable, ideologically similar forces in the near-abroad. However, there are a few items that I wish the report’s authors had delved into just a bit more. 

The first of those issues is how Russia’s use of PMCs is merely a part of its overall hybrid-warfare strategy. As stated by CSIS’ own Anthony Cordesman in his analysis, “Chronology of Possible Russian Gray Area and Hybrid Warfare Operations”: “The failure of the new national and military strategies…to adequately address the fact that direct military competition between the world’s three leading military powers—was only part of a broad mix of different forms of global competition—most of which were likely to be dominated by civil, gray area, and hybrid operations involving strategic partner and third countries—and is a critical failure in strategic thinking the U.S. still needs to correct.” It is therefore important to place the use of PMCs on a spectrum of overall Russian hybrid warfare operations, demonstrating how the Kremlin is attempting to increase its influence around the globe through a diversified portfolio that not only is less costly than direct military confrontation, but provides it with a greater degree of deniability. Therefore, as the Biden administration weighs responding to recurring Russian ransomware attacks, it needs to factor in that those incursions are just another element of its gray-zone warfare, and that the United States really needs a holistic response to these provocations if it wishes to deter Putin. 

Another issue that deserved a bit more attention was, when discussing how to tighten legal liability for PMCs, there should have been a greater discussion of the role the United States played in their increasing use around the world. As Dr. Sean McFate of the National Defense University argues in his paper, “Mercenaries and War: Understanding Private Armies Today”, “The United States contracted out it’s wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. For every American Soldier in Iraq or Afghanistan, there was at least one contractor—a 1:1 ratio or greater. At the height of these wars, contractors comprised over 50 percent of the U.S. force structure in Iraq and 70 percent in Afghanistan…about 15 percent were mercenaries, but do not let the small number fool you.” McFate even points to a 2010 U.S. Congressional report which found that, “‘private armies’ fuel warlordism, extortion, corruption, and likely collaboration with the enemy”, and here he was referring to U.S. contracted private security providers in Afghanistan. As Russia’s Corporate Soldiers established, Russian PMCs fuel that same type of corruption in states where they are involved. All of this means that the United States government has a responsibility to do more to combat the use of private military companies throughout the world, and a major step that could be taken to achieve this would be to outlaw their use through legislation. While that idea would probably be none too popular in Congress, or the Defense Department, not only would ending legal protection for U.S. mercenaries send a positive signal throughout the world that the United States was backing up its rhetoric with action, but it would prevent mercenary groups such as Blackwater from perpetrating atrocities in the future.  

Finally, the authors did not touch on the fact that as Russia has shifted away from a conscription model for its armed forces, it runs up against a problem that its forces are frequently overstretched, with its Ground Forces undergoing an undermanning issue, making questionable Russia’s ability to sustain manpower in a protracted conflict. As argued by the Jamestown Foundation’s Roger McDermott, “Russia’s Armed Forces still confront a variety of real challenges, ranging from military manpower issues to military culture…” Therefore, it is easy to see how Russia’s use of PMCs is simply a natural evolution of their desire to project power, while facing limitations. It also demonstrates that domestic drivers such as responding to calls to end conscription, and fears of Russian Army soldier deaths, are still of great concern to Putin, despite his relative popularity at home. 

However U.S. policymakers want to approach the issue, the CSIS report makes clear that PMCs are a continuing problem, with Russia able to deploy them with relative impunity, suffering little domestic or international condemnation, even when they commit atrocities, or suffer massive casualties. Alongside Russia’s ongoing cyber, influence, and disinformation operations in the United States and Europe, these private military companies must be addressed as part of an overarching U.S. response to Russian hybrid activities throughout the world. Otherwise, the Kremlin will simply continue using them to the detriment of host nation societies and human rights worldwide. 

Author’s note: it should also be mentioned that the design team at CSIS’ iLab truly did an outstanding job in putting together the overall look of the document. The slick design and execution made for a much more readable experience than some of these reports provide.