By Shawn Rostker
The recent fall of Syria’s Assad regime offers a stark lesson for North Korea: relying on Russia is a gamble that Pyongyang cannot afford to take lightly. Bashar al-Assad’s downfall was, in large part, the result of Moscow’s inability to provide the decisive support needed to save its partner. While the fall of Assad will likely reinforce the North’s guiding principal of self-reliance, it is growing increasingly vulnerable due to its alignment with Russia. Kim Jong Un must come to understand that neither this partnership, nor a nuclear arsenal, will save his regime. The job for the United States is to turn Pyongyang’s reliance on Russia into a dead weight — one that drags down Kim’s ambitions and limits his options.
Vladimir Putin’s Russia finds itself stretched thin. The war in Ukraine has siphoned off Russia’s military, economic and diplomatic bandwidth. When Syria’s regime began crumbling, Moscow simply lacked the capacity to intervene decisively. The Kremlin’s inability to save Assad — who once appeared untouchable under Russian patronage — serves as a cautionary tale for Kim Jong Un.
If conflict broke out on the Korean Peninsula, Russia would be in no position to come to Kim’s rescue. Its forces are entrenched in Ukraine and its resources are depleting. Russia has a long road ahead until it will be able to recapitalize and rebuild its conventional forces. The Syria episode demonstrates what happens when a patron state cannot — or will not — deliver in a time of need. Russia’s support may come in the form of arms deals, fuel shipments, or commitments on paper, but it does not take priority over its own grand ambitions of territorial expansion.
If North Korea’s leadership were operating pragmatically, it might conclude that an end to the war in Ukraine is in its best interest. A prolonged conflict weakens Russia further and diminishes its ability to support Pyongyang. Yet, Kim seems to have no intention of pulling back from his adventurism in Europe. North Korea’s support for Russia in Ukraine is not solely a transaction. It is a calculated move to deepen the partnership at a time when Putin is vulnerable. North Korea understands that a dependent Russia is a compliant Russia. The Kremlin cannot afford to alienate Pyongyang while it fights on multiple fronts.
Kim likely harbors no illusions about the limits of Russian support. He knew what he was getting when he aligned with Putin: fuel to sustain the economy, food aid to mitigate domestic hardship, technical expertise for North Korea’s nuclear and missile programs, and diplomatic cover at the UN. Perhaps he even considers Russia a last-resort safe haven should his regime face collapse.
But Kim should also think carefully before trusting Russia to guarantee his survival in a worst-case scenario. Putin may have publicly offered Assad and his family asylum after the collapse of his regime, but this does not guarantee him a secure or prosperous future. For Putin, Assad was useful so long as he could hold Syria together, ensuring Moscow’s foothold in the Middle East and strategic access to North Africa. Now that Assad has failed, he has little to no value to Russia, and history suggests his fate may not be secure for long.
History is littered with examples of figures who outlived their usefulness to Moscow, only to meet suspicious or untimely ends. Kim should consider that if he were ever forced to flee North Korea, his chances of a comfortable exile in Moscow might be slim. After all, the Kremlin has only so much room for discarded dictators, and even less patience for those who are no longer worth the trouble.
Assad’s fall highlights the fragility of alliances built on transactional needs rather than shared ideology or long-term strategic interests. Pyongyang may believe that its nuclear deterrent sets it apart from Assad’s Syria, but no number of weapons can guarantee the regime’s survival. Neither can nuclear weapons erase the vulnerabilities of relying on an overstretched Russia.
At the same time, Kim’s support for Putin ensures some degree of reciprocity. By sending artillery shells, weapons, and troops, Kim secures vital resources while guaranteeing, for a time, Putin’s dependence on Pyongyang. Yet this leverage is born of desperation on both sides. North Korea provides what Russia needs to sustain its war, but a weakened and distracted Russia is a precarious partner. Kim surely understands that Russia’s ability to back him in a real crisis would be limited at best.
The cracks in the Russia-North Korea relationship exposed by Assad’s collapse present an opportunity for U.S. policymakers. If North Korea is truly hedging its bets, there may be room to exploit Pyongyang’s fears of abandonment. Reaffirming the strength of U.S. alliances with South Korea and Japan can further isolate North Korea and reinforce its strategic predicament.
Assad fell because he was a brutal dictator who abused and murdered his own people for more than two decades, but also because he misjudged the depth of Russian support. North Korea cannot afford to make the same mistake, yet its actions risk repeating it. The question is whether Kim will internalize this lesson or double down on the very adventurism that risks exposing his regime’s vulnerabilities.
Self-reliance may remain Pyongyang’s guiding principle, but its vulnerability is increasingly exposed by its dependence on a partner consumed by its own struggles. The lesson for Kim should be clear: neither nuclear weapons nor Russia can guarantee his regime’s survival. The challenge for the United States and its allies is to ensure that North Korea’s reliance on an unreliable Russia becomes a liability — one that weakens its nuclear ambitions and undermines its ability to destabilize the region.
