Syria: From Regime Preservation to Position Preservation 

By November 1, 2026
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Syria: From Regime Preservation to Position Preservation 

Summer 2026 

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY:  Russia’s war in Ukraine has narrowed, rather than ended, Moscow’s role in the Middle East. Across Syria, Iran, and Gaza, Russia has shifted from costly power projection toward protecting existing assets, supporting partners without major new commitments, and maintaining diplomatic relevance at relatively low cost. Syria illustrates the clearest change: after once intervening to preserve the Assad regime, Moscow now focuses primarily on preserving its bases and regional access. Its restrained responses in Iran and limited influence in Gaza reveal the same pattern. Russia therefore remains an important regional actor, but the growing gap between its continued presence and its ability to shape outcomes reflects the priority Moscow now gives to the war in Ukraine. 

 

When Russia launched its military intervention in September 2015, the Assad government was under severe pressure. Rebel forces had made significant territorial gains, while the Syrian army struggled to maintain control over key areas of the country. Russian airpower, military advisers, intelligence support, and diplomatic backing fundamentally altered the balance of the conflict. Although Iran and Hezbollah also played crucial roles, Russia’s intervention transformed Moscow into the most visible external guarantor of the Syrian regime’s survival. Before 2022, no other case tied Russia so directly and visibly to the survival of a regional ally.1 

Beyond preserving an ally, the intervention carried considerable geopolitical significance. It demonstrated Russia’s renewed willingness to project military power beyond the former Soviet Union and reinforced the Kremlin’s claim that Moscow had returned as a global actor capable of influencing conflicts. Russian officials repeatedly contrasted their policy in Syria with the NATO intervention in Libya, arguing that Moscow protected state institutions instead of contributing to state collapse. The Syrian campaign quickly became one of the most visible examples of Russia’s return to the Middle East. It secured long-term military access through the naval facility in Tartus and the Khmeimim Air Base. This strengthened Moscow’s diplomatic standing and allowed Russia to position itself as an actor capable of communicating simultaneously with Iran, Israel, Turkey, and several Arab governments. By the end of the 2010s, Syria had become the cornerstone of Russia’s regional strategy and an important symbol of its broader great-power ambitions.2 

This success depended on Russia’s continued willingness and ability to invest military and political resources in sustaining the Assad government. The full-scale invasion of Ukraine did not end Moscow’s presence in Syria, but it changed the hierarchy of Russian priorities. The Ukrainian front increasingly absorbed political attention, military resources, and logistical capacity. Assad’s fall in late 2024 therefore tested what remained of Russia’s commitment. Unlike in 2015, Moscow did not launch a major military effort to prevent the collapse of one of its closest regional allies. Russian forces continued operating from their existing bases, but there was no large-scale intervention comparable to the one that had saved the regime nearly a decade earlier. The speed of the collapse surprised many observers and exposed a question that had been easier to avoid before 2022: was Russia still able, or willing, to intervene decisively in Syria when doing so competed with its main military campaign? 

Assad did not fall simply because Russia was preoccupied with Ukraine. The Syrian state had been weakened by corruption, economic decline, ineffective institutions, and the poor condition of its armed forces. The actions of other regional actors also shaped the outcome. Treating Ukraine as the sole cause would obscure the domestic and regional roots of the collapse. The war mattered more clearly in Moscow’s response once the offensive began. Russia did not try to reverse the military situation through another large-scale intervention. Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov instead described Ukraine as Russia’s “absolute priority” and said that the immediate concern in Syria was the security of Russian bases and diplomatic missions.3 

Russia adjusted quickly after Assad’s fall. Rather than trying to restore the previous political order, Moscow entered negotiations with the new Syrian authorities over the future of its military bases and its broader economic presence. The immediate objective was no longer the preservation of Assad’s rule, but the preservation of Russia’s own strategic position.4 This was more than a tactical response: it changed what Moscow was trying to protect in Syria. 

For nearly a decade, Syria had represented Russia’s ability to rescue an ally and alter a regional conflict. Its present goals are narrower: retaining access to Tartus and Khmeimim, protecting logistical routes into the Mediterranean and Africa, and salvaging part of the influence accumulated since 2015.5 Moscow’s talks with the new leadership show that it has not abandoned Syria. They also show how far the purpose of its policy has changed. Russia was prepared to deal with authorities that had overthrown the government it once protected because access and presence now mattered more than the political order itself. That flexibility may help Moscow preserve a regional foothold, but it cannot erase the contrast with 2015. Then, Russia intervened to save the regime. After 2024, it sought primarily to save its position. 

Syria shows how Moscow responded when an established position came under threat. The relationship with Iran raises a different question: how far is Russia prepared to go for a partner that became more important after 2022? 

Iran became significantly more important to Russia after 2022. Military cooperation expanded rapidly, particularly through Iran’s supply of drones and other weapons. Both countries faced extensive Western sanctions, shared an interest in challenging the U.S.-led international order, and strengthened their political coordination in international forums.6 The relationship was not new, but the war changed its weight for Moscow. Iran was no longer only an important regional partner; it had become a valuable partner in Russia’s most important ongoing war. 

Closer cooperation created new expectations. If Russia increasingly depended on Iranian support, would it be prepared to assume greater risks on Tehran’s behalf?7 The 2026 war involving Iran, Israel, the United States, and several Gulf states has provided a practical test. Russia strongly condemned attacks against Iran, emphasized the need for de-escalation, and reaffirmed its political support for Tehran. Russian officials also presented Moscow as a possible mediator in a diplomatic settlement.8 In practice, its role has remained limited. Unlike in Syria in 2015, Moscow has given no clear indication that it is prepared to take serious military risks for its partner. Its overt response has consisted mainly of statements, diplomacy, and political backing, carefully kept below the threshold of direct confrontation.9 

Russia’s restraint reflected both strategic choice and material constraint. Direct involvement would have risked escalation with the United States and Israel while Russia was already committed to a major war in Ukraine. Moscow also had reasons to preserve working relations with Israel and several Gulf states. Yet caution was not the whole explanation. Entering the war directly would have required military and political resources already committed elsewhere, and Moscow had few credible means of changing the course of the war. Iran remained strategically important, but not enough for Russia to put its campaign in Ukraine under risk. 

Russia backed Iran politically and, according to the Associated Press, provided information that could help Iran target U.S. military assets, but avoided direct military intervention, which could draw it into another costly conflict. Moscow denied sharing such intelligence.10 

In Gaza, Russia relied mainly on diplomacy and public messaging. Following the Hamas attack of October 7 and the subsequent Israeli military campaign, Moscow adopted a position that contrasted sharply with Washington’s. Russian officials criticized Israel’s military operations, called for an immediate ceasefire, and accused Western governments of applying double standards by condemning Russia’s actions in Ukraine while supporting Israel. Moscow also used this contrast to justify its own ongoing campaign. At the same time, Moscow continued to engage with Hamas and other Palestinian factions. Russian officials argued that communication with all sides could help secure hostage releases, address humanitarian problems, and facilitate a ceasefire.11 These contacts also supported Russia’s claim that it remained an important diplomatic actor precisely because it was prepared to speak with parties that many Western governments would not engage with directly. 

The practical results were much smaller than the diplomatic presentation suggested. Moscow used its contacts with Hamas to help secure the release of several Russian-Israeli hostages.12 Yet the negotiations that shaped ceasefires and broader hostage releases were led mainly by Qatar, Egypt, and the United States.13 Major talks proceeded outside Russian diplomatic channels, leaving Moscow with little influence over the broader course of the conflict. Russian officials could join the political debate and maintain contacts unavailable to many Western governments, but they remained outside the process where the most important decisions were made. 

Gaza nevertheless gave Russia a useful political platform. Moscow could criticize Western policy, reinforce its claim that it should not be excluded from regional diplomacy, and remain visible even when it was not one of the principal decision-makers.14 

Russia still has a military presence at its two main facilities in Syria, maintains partnerships across the region, and regularly seeks a role in major diplomatic crises. Yet none of the three cases shows Moscow determining the outcome. In Syria, it adjusted to the fall of the government it had once rescued. When Iran came under attack, Russia remained outside direct military confrontation. In Gaza, the main negotiations proceeded through other states. These were different situations and required different instruments, but the direction was similar. Moscow concentrated on protecting what it already had, avoiding new costs, and using regional crises to support its wider political confrontation with the West. The pattern is better described as a narrowing of Russia’s role than as a withdrawal from the region. 

This narrowing can be understood as adaptation to the demands of the war in Ukraine. A lower-cost policy is rational for a state concentrating its resources on a large war in Europe. But adaptation and decline are not mutually exclusive. Russia may preserve bases, relationships, and visibility while losing some of its ability to set the agenda or change events. Presence and influence should therefore not be treated as the same thing. Moscow remains present across the Middle East; the more difficult question is what that presence now allows it to achieve. 

The war in Ukraine has pushed Russia to take a step back in the Middle East, although not in the form of a regional withdrawal. Moscow still possesses military assets, partnerships, and diplomatic channels that regional governments cannot ignore. What has changed is the role it is prepared—and sometimes able—to play. Its policy prioritizes protecting existing positions, supporting partners without open-ended commitments, and staying politically relevant at relatively low cost. Syria, Iran, and Gaza do not present identical stories, but each exposes a limit that was less visible when Russia intervened in Syria in 2015, before the war in Ukraine absorbed much of Moscow’s attention and resources. 

Ukraine has narrowed both the resources available to Russia and the range of risks it is willing to take elsewhere. When Middle Eastern objectives compete with the war in Europe, Ukraine takes priority. Russia has stepped back from costly power brokerage and adapted through selective engagement, asset preservation, and political opportunism. This strategy may be temporary: a change in the war could free resources or produce another attempt to expand Russian influence. For now, however, Moscow maintains a substantial regional presence, but its ability to shape outcomes remains limited. That gap is the clearest difference between the ambitions that accompanied Russia’s intervention in Syria and the more defensive regional policy visible today. 

 

Ilya Chubenko is an undergraduate at Bar-Ilan University and a Summer 2026 intern at the Begin-Sadat Center for Strategic Studies. 

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