How long has Russia been preparing for underwater sabotage, and what’s the gain from damaging the Nord Stream pipelines? Who’s behind the recent sabotage in the Baltic Sea, and what’s their goal? The Ukrainian Week spoke with Mykhailo Honchar, an expert in international energy and security relations and president of the Centre for Global Studies “Strategy XXI,” to get his take on these critical issues.
***
— Sabotage targeting communication channels and infrastructure has been happening regularly in the Baltic Sea, with Russia being the obvious suspect. But is there concrete evidence to support this?
— Just because we can’t conclusively prove malicious intent right now doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. There are clear signs of damage to underwater infrastructure—telecom cables, power lines, gas pipelines. The tools of the crime are also telling, like anchors from Chinese container ships or a Russian tanker. So, if we ask the classic question—who benefits? The answer is clear.
If we flip the question, though—would the Swedes or Danes, for example, cut the telecom cable between Finland and Estonia? Or would the Poles do so between Sweden and Lithuania? Clearly not. That leaves us with a very logical suspicion pointing in one direction. Every other country bordering the Baltic Sea is part of the European Union or NATO—except for Russia. And looking at the resources it has at its disposal, Russia has specialized forces specifically trained to carry out these kinds of actions. They can execute them, first, through proxies, and second, by using a new methodology designed not just for sabotage, but for making it almost impossible for others to prove who’s responsible.
This is the art of special operations in the underwater domain—achieving strategic objectives without the need for regular military forces. The real skill lies in making everything look like a simple technical failure. When you’re dealing with complex systems, it’s easy to spin incidents as just accidents. In shallow waters, anchors and fishing trawls often disturb objects on the seabed. We’ve seen cases like this before.
But there’s a big difference between a one-off event—like the rupture of the Balticconnector gas pipeline and the fibre-optic cable between Finland and Estonia on October 7, 2023—and a pattern.
At first, the incident was framed as an accident, with no clear evidence of sabotage. But when similar events occur four times in quick succession, the narrative starts to shift. Once could be an accident. Twice, maybe. But at this point, it’s clear we’re dealing with a pattern. While we haven’t yet definitively proven the deliberate nature of these incidents, it’s only a matter of time before it becomes undeniable.
— Why is Russia doing this? What’s in it for them?
— Russia is trying to send a clear message to the European Union and NATO, aiming to deter specific actions against it in the Baltic Sea—particularly restrictions on Russian oil traffic through the Baltic and the Danish straits. This comes in the context of what’s known as Russia’s “shadow fleet.”
The Baltic is a crucial route for Russia’s oil and petroleum exports. Most of this traffic comes from its Baltic ports. According to Russian data, around 57% of its total oil exports pass through this region, making it incredibly sensitive for Moscow.
Both the 15th and upcoming 16th EU sanctions packages target the tanker fleet that services this oil flow from the Baltic. From Russia’s perspective, the message is clear: if you leave our oil shipments alone, we won’t target your underwater infrastructure. But if you interfere, you might want to think about the potential consequences.
This leads us to a key aspect of Russia’s interests. While the Baltic Sea does have some underwater communication infrastructure, it’s not an extensive network—mostly telecommunication cables, a few power lines, and underwater gas pipelines. For example, the Balticconnector pipeline was damaged but later repaired. Another key pipeline, the Baltic Pipe, connects Norwegian gas fields to Poland and has been operational for a few years now.
However, if we look beyond the Baltic to the North Sea, past the Danish straits, the underwater infrastructure there is far denser. It’s not just telecommunication cables—this area hosts critical energy infrastructure for the EU and its member states, including oil and gas pipelines transporting resources from Norwegian fields in the North Sea to the continent.
Norway is now the EU’s top gas supplier. It was previously second when Russia held the lead, but it wasn’t far behind.
The North Sea seabed is also crisscrossed with a vast network of power cables from offshore wind farms built in the shallow waters of Germany, the Netherlands, Denmark, Sweden, and Norway’s exclusive economic zones. A rupture in one of these connections would be disruptive, but a break in a major gas pipeline—such as the one from Troll, Europe’s most powerful oil and gas field, to the mainland—would be a full-scale catastrophe and a direct blow to Europe’s energy security. This is not the Balticconnector, with its 2.6 billion cubic metres per year capacity, but pipelines like Franpipe, which transports 19.6 billion cubic metres annually from a production platform to Dunkirk in France, or Europipe II, which delivers 24 billion cubic metres to Dornum in Germany.
In this context, Russia seems to be sending a clear warning: while a severed telecoms cable in the Baltic may be an inconvenience that can be fixed, something more serious would have much more severe consequences. And once again, it challenges those pointing fingers: “Prove we did it.” To me, it looks like Russia has used the Baltic states as testing grounds. Everyone has a good idea of who’s behind these incidents, yet the intent remains unproven. And because of this, Moscow feels increasingly emboldened.
— What other actions might Russia take if its warnings are ignored?
— There will likely be more moves. Take, for example, an incident near Norway that surprisingly got little attention. In 2022, a communications cable linking a space station on the Svalbard archipelago to the mainland was severed. Russia had long accused Norway of using the station for military purposes, claiming this violated the 1920 Svalbard Treaty, which designates the archipelago as a demilitarised zone. Of course, these accusations were baseless. But the station, serving both the European Space Agency and NASA—who run both civilian and military programmes—provided Russia with a convenient pretext. And then, suddenly, the cable was cut. “Suddenly” is in quotes, of course.
So, there have been precedents outside the Baltic Sea. This warning in the Baltic about the North Sea should be seen in the context of these past incidents. In the North Sea, it’s not just one or two occurrences, but multiple times that Russian trawlers have mysteriously shown up “fishing” right in the middle of NATO exercises. That’s already telling. Or consider when Finnish authorities detained the Russian tanker Eagle S and found an unusual amount of equipment—out of place for a vessel like that—seemingly designed for technical intelligence gathering.
All of this points to the fact that Russia is fully prepared to carry out large-scale acts of sabotage when the time is right—large-scale, indeed. So far, we’ve seen isolated incidents—disruptive, yes, but not catastrophic.
Most recently, a power cable between Estonia and Finland was severed. It was a significant blow—650 MW of capacity lost just before the Baltic states were set to disconnect from Russia’s power grid. This could be seen as an attempt by Russia to derail the process, given that as long as these countries remained tied to its energy system, they had to remain more aligned with Russian interests. But now, suddenly, they are cutting ties.
These countries have been part of the EU and NATO for years, so it’s remarkable that they remained within Russia’s energy sphere for so long. But now they’ve made the decision to disconnect, and this cable failure seems to serve as a warning. In essence, the damage isn’t severe enough to stop the disconnection—it’s going ahead as planned.
However, as I mentioned earlier, if there were to be a major act of sabotage targeting gas pipelines from the North Sea to continental Europe, the consequences would be much more significant. If, for example, Europipe II were compromised, Germany would lose 24 billion cubic metres of gas. Russia, in turn, would likely offer to bring the remaining operational section of Nord Stream 2—capable of delivering 27.5 billion cubic metres—back online. And this would be presented as a “helping hand.”
My in-depth analysis from late 2022, in which I outlined possible scenarios, can be found on the Centre for Global Studies’ website, Strategy XXI. Russia has been systematically preparing for underwater sabotage warfare for at least a decade. Since 2018, our journal, Black Sea Security, has published several articles on Russia’s underwater activities in the Black Sea and the Baltic. For these operations, Russia relies on a specialised unit within the Ministry of Defence, the Main Directorate of Deep-Sea Research (GUGI). Established in 1963, GUGI received significant funding and underwent extensive technical modernisation about ten years ago.
While GUGI has largely operated under the radar, Western concern began growing towards the end of the last decade. Several respected American and British admirals and generals pointed out the significant expansion of submarine communications between Europe and North America, alongside the construction of gas pipelines and power cables. They noted Russian special-purpose submarines operating in these areas, including the deep-water zones of the North Atlantic.
A rare public glimpse into GUGI’s operations came in 2019, when the Losharik submarine suffered an accident that claimed the lives of 14 crew members. It was later revealed that these were not ordinary sailors but high-ranking officers, all decorated Heroes of Russia. Essentially, Russia has developed a full range of tools for deep-sea operations. In the relatively shallow waters of the Baltic and the North Sea, interventions can be carried out using fairly simple means—an anchor, for example. But in the Atlantic, where depths reach 4 to 6 kilometres, an anchor is useless.
To address this, Russia has created deep-sea submersibles that can be transported to target areas by submarines or even civilian surface vessels. Once deployed, these submersibles can perform a variety of tasks, such as cutting undersea cables with specialised underwater manipulators equipped with cutting tools. At those depths, preventing such operations is nearly impossible.
This threat has been recognised for some time. However, political leaders in key countries—like the United States and the United Kingdom, as well as within the European Union and NATO—largely ignored it. The prevailing assumption was that since Russia does business with Europe, it wouldn’t sabotage its own economic interests. That belief held until the Nord Stream pipeline sabotage. Even now, the crucial question remains: who is responsible? Officially, it remains unanswered.
The situation seems to suggest that Russia is sending a clear message. Essentially, they’re saying, “Have you realised what we’re capable of, and what it could mean for you—especially if something larger than a single incident were to happen?” It’s their way of warning the European Union against taking action to restrict oil traffic.
Russia’s logic goes something like this: The Nord Stream pipelines were “destroyed by the Americans,” or possibly in a joint American-Norwegian effort. This is the narrative that Russia officially pushes—not the Ukrainian version, which they dismiss and mock.
Given this, it’s not hard to see Russia planning operations involving Norwegian gas in Europe. “If something happens, how will you Europeans manage without our gas?” they seem to be suggesting. “And we are ready…”
That’s why, throughout 2024, Putin sent public messages to Scholz four times, urging a reconsideration of Europe’s approach and the launch of the pipeline. He reminded them that when Ukraine halts transit, Europe will be left with only one pipeline—Turkish Stream—and that won’t be enough.
In my view, Russia’s underwater activity in the Baltic is aimed at clearly highlighting the potential consequences for the North Sea. Then, as always, they follow their usual method: create a problem for Europeans and immediately offer a solution. “Look, we’re ready to bring you back to the gas paradise.”
— What’s your take on the Nord Stream pipelines? Who could have been behind it? And wasn’t Russia itself against such sabotage?
— Actually, it was Russia’s doing. There was a clear logic behind it. The aim was to drive up gas prices in Europe by gradually cutting supply. First, Russia shut down deliveries through the Yamal-Europe pipeline. Then it moved to Nord Stream, which was operating beyond its official 55 billion cubic metres per year, actually pumping 60. The idea was to create a severe shortage, profit from skyrocketing prices, and, at the same time, pressure Germany into launching Nord Stream 2.
European companies started accusing Gazprom of playing games—deliberately limiting flows through Nord Stream and using Siemens turbine issues as an excuse. Gazprom claimed force majeure, but it was all lies. These companies threatened to take Gazprom to arbitration, demanding compensation for breach of contract. At that point, a real force majeure event was needed—because without it, Gazprom was facing around $30 billion in penalties.
At the time, Gazprom claimed, “Look, your sanctions are backfiring. We can’t repair the Siemens turbine at the compressor station, so the pipeline can’t run at full capacity. And now it can’t operate at all—there’s nothing we can do. Lift the sanctions, and everything will be fine; otherwise, this is force majeure.”
But the Europeans didn’t buy it. They argued this wasn’t force majeure—it was deception. Turbines don’t just fail one after another. A single breakdown? Fine, things happen. But when it happened again, despite a spare turbine being available at the compressor station specifically for such situations, the excuse fell apart. So, a real force majeure was staged—the sabotage of the pipelines on 26 September 2022. Even that, however, didn’t achieve the intended result.
Gazprom is already facing the consequences. Following an arbitration ruling in a case brought by the German company Uniper, it has been ordered to pay €13 billion in penalties. Seeing Uniper’s success, other companies have also taken Gazprom to court. By 2025, we’ll likely see a wave of rulings. The amounts may not be as high—Uniper was Gazprom’s main European partner—but Austria’s OMV has already won an arbitration case, securing €230 million at the end of 2024. More will follow. In the end, force majeure didn’t work. But that only became clear later.
Western investigators have hit a dead end because they assumed Russia had no reason to sabotage its own pipelines. After all, Moscow built them, invested in them, and was interested in developing its gas business.
But that’s typical European logic—seeing gas and pipelines as business tools for making money. In Russia, the logic is different: gas and its delivery infrastructure are weapons, not just commodities or a source of profit.
As a result, the investigation has stalled. Meanwhile, recent cases involving telecommunications, such as the Balticconnector and the power cable, have shown that Russia’s developed methodology for underwater warfare works. No one can prove its involvement. This was recently echoed by Swedish police in their investigation of the fiber optic cable break between Sweden and Latvia, reportedly caused by an anchor from either a Chinese or Bulgarian tanker flying a Maltese flag: “…we can confidently say that this is not a case of sabotage. <…> It has been established that the cable break was caused by a combination of weather conditions, equipment failures, and maritime craftsmanship issues.”
Right now, it’s a battle of nerves. Who will hold out longer? Will Russia, through its preventive measures, pressure Europe into backing down from restricting its tanker fleet in the Baltic and the Danish Straits? Or will Europe—especially the Baltic Sea states—stand firm in curbing this hazardous oil traffic?
The stakes are high, particularly given the potential consequences of a major tanker accident. Just look at what happened in the Black Sea at the end of 2024, when two Russian tankers broke apart in a storm, spilling oil across the water—traces of that fuel oil are still turning up everywhere. And those were relatively small river-class tankers, each around 7,000 tons. The tankers operating in the Baltic are far bigger, reaching 100,000 tons or more.
The damage could rival the 2002 Prestige disaster in the Bay of Biscay off Spain, where a spill cleanup cost $4 billion. But in the shallow, semi-enclosed Baltic, the bill could be far worse—easily reaching €10 billion.
— Do you think Russia’s blackmail will work? Will Europe back down, or will it push back?
— I think Europe still has the political will to stand firm, especially with the growing threat of American isolationism—the idea that “Europe’s problems are Europe’s to solve.” I see a shift toward tougher action against Russia, and this time, it might actually work.
The recent incidents in the Black Sea and the western Baltic, where tankers carrying large volumes of oil suffered engine failures, have reinforced the European view that waiting is not an option. No one wants another Prestige-style disaster like in 2002—or a repeat of what happened with Russian tankers in the Black Sea. The message is clear: the Baltic needs to be cleared of this risk.
There’s a sense that Europe is ready to act. The question is how soon. And that’s why we’re seeing Russia step up its efforts through other means.
