October 30, 2025
By S.M. Sayem
The world’s northernmost frontier has become a stage of transformation. Previously perceived as a frozen fixed point, the Arctic is now becoming dynamic, its evolving physics altering world politics in a manner that few people could have envisioned two decades ago.
The warming rate in the region is almost 4 times as high as the global average, forcing thinning, younger sea ice, and more opening windows. The Arctic sea-ice minimum in September 2024 was the 7th-lowest since records began, and the past 18 years were the 18 lowest in the satellite record trends which enable seasonal access to be progressively easier for navies, surveyors, and commercial vessels alike.
That climate shock is banging against the geography of the old and new economies. The Northern Sea Route (NSR) along the Siberian coast of Russia is able to reduce the Asia-Europe distance by a third compared to the Suez Canal. However, the reality test: the NSR is a luxury road, not an international trunk road, in spite of the hype. In 2023, the number of NSR transit voyages was approximately 75, with around 2.1 million tons on board, a recovery compared to the collapse in 2022, but still a drop in the ocean compared to the Suez Canal, 26000+ ship crossings, and approximately 1.57 million tons in 2023. In 2024, despite disruptions in the Red Sea, Suez was managing approximately 20,000 vessels and is considered the lifeline. Costs (ice-class vessels, insurance), sanctions, and politics all limit NSR uptake, as does ice, and sparse ports.
Why do the superpowers keep pushing north? The solution can be summed up in three words: access, resources, leverage.
The domination of sea routes and sea space has turned into a confrontation point. Russia exercises close control over the NSR, taking advantage of UNCLOS Article 234, which is applied to ice-covered waters, to demand permits, pilotage, and fees. According to the US and its allies, Moscow is pushing the limits of the law, particularly in international straits, and even to vessels that are entitled to sovereign immunity. This is no mere technical footnote, but the legal pivot as to who is the determiner of the rules of passage. Washington has already protested its so-called excessive maritime claims, and Russia continues to extend its laws to include more vessels, including warships. With the shortening of the ice seasons and an increase in traffic, there is a potential for escalating tensions.
What is beneath the sea bottom in the Arctic makes it irresistible. An illustrative U.S. Geological Survey study approximates approximately 90 billion barrels of the undiscovered oil, 1,670 trillion cubic feet of natural gas, and 44 billion barrels of natural gas liquids, an estimated 13 percent of the world’s undiscovered oil and 30 percent of the gas. In the case of Moscow, it is their budgetary lifelines and geopolitical leverage. In the case of Beijing, it would guarantee energy security. To others, it is too important not to pay attention to it. Tapping these reserves is, however, expensive, technically crippling, and more limited by sanctions. In addition to hydrocarbons, Greenland has long-term prospects of rare earths. However, domestic politics also play a key role: a 2021 uranium embargo essentially closed down the China-linked Kvanefjeld project, serving as a reminder of how local policy can cascade into international resource policies.
The Arctic Council had long been the cornerstone of rule-setting and signaling in the Arctic, and had long been promoted as the symbol of the High North, low tension. The image failed with the full-scale invasion of Ukraine by Russia in 2022. The other seven members reciprocated this by halting Council activities with Moscow in March 2022, and resumed only some projects without Russian engagement. Nowadays, the majority of collaboration exists in virtual meetings, and work is full of concentration. The institution survives, but the basis of strategic trust it used to have has been shattered.
The Arctic equation is never too distant from hard power. Russia has anchored its nuclear deterrent on the Kola Peninsula, home to its Northern Fleet SSBNs and an ever-growing range of anti-access or area-denial capabilities. The Fleet has been tested with Tsirkon hypersonic missiles and Bastion coastal defense batteries, which are placed on Arctic islands. Meanwhile, Sino-Russian naval escorts have been sailing around the Aleutians, provoking American destroyers, and NORAD has consistently been monitoring Russian airliners surveying the Alaskan air defense zone. Even when the seas of the High North are frozen, the temperature there is rising.
The NATO map has flipped, too. The entry of Finland (2023) and Sweden (2024) into the Alliance changes Baltic-to-Arctic geometry, making Western air and maritime coordination harder and making Russian planning difficult. Anticipate greater interventions in allied cold-weather (Nordic response, U.S. Marines training in Norway, etc.) and more ISR and undersea-infrastructure defense, a mounting concern with seabed cables or pipelines weaving through the High North.
Greenland is another geographical location that is a battleground. The U.S. domain awareness is anchored by Washington with its missile-warning or space surveillance node, which is called Pituffik Space Base (formerly Thule). Simultaneously, U.S. coercion contributed to a Chinese SOE bid on Greenland airport projects failing in 2018–19, an incident that foreshadowed the degree to which Washington expects to police the strategic investment on the Arctic rim. The Trump-era flirtation with purchasing Greenland had only served to make Copenhagen and Nuuk highly sensitive.
The Arctic game of China is a blend of science, shipping, energy, and narrative. Beijing presents itself as a near-Arctic state, popularizing a Polar Silk Road as one of the products of BRI, which is supported by increasing polar capacity (two Xue Long icebreakers) and observer status of the Arctic Council. Chinese companies are invested in Yamal LNG and have operated tests on the NSR (e.g., the 2023 voyages of NewNew Shipping), but scale has been constrained by sanctions on Russia and insurance/ice risks. Distances between China and the Arctic do not give rights, but they are not a denial of interests, and Beijing is educating them gradually.
India, South Korea, among others, are not observers either. India has an Arctic Policy (2022) and has a research station in Himadri, Svalbard; Seoul, Tokyo, and Singapore are observers at the Arctic Council, and monitor energy, shipping, and standards. Scientific presence is a buffer of commercial and regulatory seats at the table in the future because the ice margin moves.
So, is the NSR the next Suez? Not next decade, and maybe not even the following. The size of cargo, transit windows are seasonal, icebreakers are limited, shore-based SAR, bunkering, and ports are minimal, and the legal and political risk premium is high. Even with a 2023-25 bump (Chinese and Russian experiment with NSR), NSR totals are still tiny compared to Suez. The improved version is selective regionalization: energy flows between Russia and Asia, project cargos, small numbers of niche container loops, not a global re-wiring of shipping.
The actual catalyst is the security externalities. The Arctic edge now boasts of additional NATO coastline, additional Russian standoff armaments, and additional Sino-Russian signaling. In the meantime, governance has devolved, with the Arctic Council still operating though politicized, and with deep law-of-the-sea disputes continuing over straits, Article 234 range, and overlapping continental shelf claims. That increases the danger of an incident, a naval patrol that takes a wrong turn, a surveillance flight that has been intercepted unnecessarily violently, or a freedom-of-navigating-the-ocean provocative, and Moscow decides to respond.
Once called High North, low tension, the region now faces mounting strains rooted in structural changes. The weather is opening up sooner than institutions can revise regulations; the law is disputed, but the economic reward exists and is unequal; and the game has become fixed in opposing camps. To the U.S. and its allies, that would argue against overestimating their ability to operate in cold weather (icebreakers, SAR, under-ice ASW, cable protection), against leaning too heavily on lawfare and seamanship while pressurising excess claims without inflaming tensions, against assuming supply chains can fully shift away from weak points or rely on an NSR replacement, and against letting the Arctic Council collapse, since it still serves as a floor under contention even if it lacks fireworks. In the case of Russia and China, the motivations are closer energy and logistics integration through the NSR, and subtle military cues short of an open conflict. That is, it is a race to the top but less of a race to a new Suez and more of a protracted, slow-mover of a campaign to mould rules, rhythms, and realities at the summit of the world.
S.M. Sayem is a Dhaka-based foreign policy analyst, contributing to The Geopolitics, Modern Diplomacy, and The Daily Observer. His work covers global affairs, power dynamics, and economic issues shaping the contemporary world.
By S.M. Sayem
The world’s northernmost frontier has become a stage of transformation. Previously perceived as a frozen fixed point, the Arctic is now becoming dynamic, its evolving physics altering world politics in a manner that few people could have envisioned two decades ago.
The warming rate in the region is almost 4 times as high as the global average, forcing thinning, younger sea ice, and more opening windows. The Arctic sea-ice minimum in September 2024 was the 7th-lowest since records began, and the past 18 years were the 18 lowest in the satellite record trends which enable seasonal access to be progressively easier for navies, surveyors, and commercial vessels alike.
That climate shock is banging against the geography of the old and new economies. The Northern Sea Route (NSR) along the Siberian coast of Russia is able to reduce the Asia-Europe distance by a third compared to the Suez Canal. However, the reality test: the NSR is a luxury road, not an international trunk road, in spite of the hype. In 2023, the number of NSR transit voyages was approximately 75, with around 2.1 million tons on board, a recovery compared to the collapse in 2022, but still a drop in the ocean compared to the Suez Canal, 26000+ ship crossings, and approximately 1.57 million tons in 2023. In 2024, despite disruptions in the Red Sea, Suez was managing approximately 20,000 vessels and is considered the lifeline. Costs (ice-class vessels, insurance), sanctions, and politics all limit NSR uptake, as does ice, and sparse ports.
Why do the superpowers keep pushing north? The solution can be summed up in three words: access, resources, leverage.
The domination of sea routes and sea space has turned into a confrontation point. Russia exercises close control over the NSR, taking advantage of UNCLOS Article 234, which is applied to ice-covered waters, to demand permits, pilotage, and fees. According to the US and its allies, Moscow is pushing the limits of the law, particularly in international straits, and even to vessels that are entitled to sovereign immunity. This is no mere technical footnote, but the legal pivot as to who is the determiner of the rules of passage. Washington has already protested its so-called excessive maritime claims, and Russia continues to extend its laws to include more vessels, including warships. With the shortening of the ice seasons and an increase in traffic, there is a potential for escalating tensions.
What is beneath the sea bottom in the Arctic makes it irresistible. An illustrative U.S. Geological Survey study approximates approximately 90 billion barrels of the undiscovered oil, 1,670 trillion cubic feet of natural gas, and 44 billion barrels of natural gas liquids, an estimated 13 percent of the world’s undiscovered oil and 30 percent of the gas. In the case of Moscow, it is their budgetary lifelines and geopolitical leverage. In the case of Beijing, it would guarantee energy security. To others, it is too important not to pay attention to it. Tapping these reserves is, however, expensive, technically crippling, and more limited by sanctions. In addition to hydrocarbons, Greenland has long-term prospects of rare earths. However, domestic politics also play a key role: a 2021 uranium embargo essentially closed down the China-linked Kvanefjeld project, serving as a reminder of how local policy can cascade into international resource policies.
The Arctic Council had long been the cornerstone of rule-setting and signaling in the Arctic, and had long been promoted as the symbol of the High North, low tension. The image failed with the full-scale invasion of Ukraine by Russia in 2022. The other seven members reciprocated this by halting Council activities with Moscow in March 2022, and resumed only some projects without Russian engagement. Nowadays, the majority of collaboration exists in virtual meetings, and work is full of concentration. The institution survives, but the basis of strategic trust it used to have has been shattered.
The Arctic equation is never too distant from hard power. Russia has anchored its nuclear deterrent on the Kola Peninsula, home to its Northern Fleet SSBNs and an ever-growing range of anti-access or area-denial capabilities. The Fleet has been tested with Tsirkon hypersonic missiles and Bastion coastal defense batteries, which are placed on Arctic islands. Meanwhile, Sino-Russian naval escorts have been sailing around the Aleutians, provoking American destroyers, and NORAD has consistently been monitoring Russian airliners surveying the Alaskan air defense zone. Even when the seas of the High North are frozen, the temperature there is rising.
The NATO map has flipped, too. The entry of Finland (2023) and Sweden (2024) into the Alliance changes Baltic-to-Arctic geometry, making Western air and maritime coordination harder and making Russian planning difficult. Anticipate greater interventions in allied cold-weather (Nordic response, U.S. Marines training in Norway, etc.) and more ISR and undersea-infrastructure defense, a mounting concern with seabed cables or pipelines weaving through the High North.
Greenland is another geographical location that is a battleground. The U.S. domain awareness is anchored by Washington with its missile-warning or space surveillance node, which is called Pituffik Space Base (formerly Thule). Simultaneously, U.S. coercion contributed to a Chinese SOE bid on Greenland airport projects failing in 2018–19, an incident that foreshadowed the degree to which Washington expects to police the strategic investment on the Arctic rim. The Trump-era flirtation with purchasing Greenland had only served to make Copenhagen and Nuuk highly sensitive.
The Arctic game of China is a blend of science, shipping, energy, and narrative. Beijing presents itself as a near-Arctic state, popularizing a Polar Silk Road as one of the products of BRI, which is supported by increasing polar capacity (two Xue Long icebreakers) and observer status of the Arctic Council. Chinese companies are invested in Yamal LNG and have operated tests on the NSR (e.g., the 2023 voyages of NewNew Shipping), but scale has been constrained by sanctions on Russia and insurance/ice risks. Distances between China and the Arctic do not give rights, but they are not a denial of interests, and Beijing is educating them gradually.
India, South Korea, among others, are not observers either. India has an Arctic Policy (2022) and has a research station in Himadri, Svalbard; Seoul, Tokyo, and Singapore are observers at the Arctic Council, and monitor energy, shipping, and standards. Scientific presence is a buffer of commercial and regulatory seats at the table in the future because the ice margin moves.
So, is the NSR the next Suez? Not next decade, and maybe not even the following. The size of cargo, transit windows are seasonal, icebreakers are limited, shore-based SAR, bunkering, and ports are minimal, and the legal and political risk premium is high. Even with a 2023-25 bump (Chinese and Russian experiment with NSR), NSR totals are still tiny compared to Suez. The improved version is selective regionalization: energy flows between Russia and Asia, project cargos, small numbers of niche container loops, not a global re-wiring of shipping.
The actual catalyst is the security externalities. The Arctic edge now boasts of additional NATO coastline, additional Russian standoff armaments, and additional Sino-Russian signaling. In the meantime, governance has devolved, with the Arctic Council still operating though politicized, and with deep law-of-the-sea disputes continuing over straits, Article 234 range, and overlapping continental shelf claims. That increases the danger of an incident, a naval patrol that takes a wrong turn, a surveillance flight that has been intercepted unnecessarily violently, or a freedom-of-navigating-the-ocean provocative, and Moscow decides to respond.
Once called High North, low tension, the region now faces mounting strains rooted in structural changes. The weather is opening up sooner than institutions can revise regulations; the law is disputed, but the economic reward exists and is unequal; and the game has become fixed in opposing camps. To the U.S. and its allies, that would argue against overestimating their ability to operate in cold weather (icebreakers, SAR, under-ice ASW, cable protection), against leaning too heavily on lawfare and seamanship while pressurising excess claims without inflaming tensions, against assuming supply chains can fully shift away from weak points or rely on an NSR replacement, and against letting the Arctic Council collapse, since it still serves as a floor under contention even if it lacks fireworks. In the case of Russia and China, the motivations are closer energy and logistics integration through the NSR, and subtle military cues short of an open conflict. That is, it is a race to the top but less of a race to a new Suez and more of a protracted, slow-mover of a campaign to mould rules, rhythms, and realities at the summit of the world.
S.M. Sayem is a Dhaka-based foreign policy analyst, contributing to The Geopolitics, Modern Diplomacy, and The Daily Observer. His work covers global affairs, power dynamics, and economic issues shaping the contemporary world.
