In the center of Barentsburg, a settlement on the Svalbard archipelago in Norway, a bust of Lenin watches over the square. Public signs are in Cyrillic, and murals and posters praise Russian scientists and artists. The Russian tricolor flies from buildings, including those of Arktikugol — a Russian mining company. Telephone service is provided by a Russian firm, and shops sell Russian cucumbers, canned fish, and soft drinks. Nearby are scientific institutes from Russia. Two geologists from Saint Petersburg explain that they are there for their annual research visit.

At first glance, Barentsburg looks like part of Russia, but it is not. The settlement is a geopolitical paradox — a Russian-operated town on Norwegian territory in the Arctic. The Svalbard archipelago belongs to Norway, which exercises undisputed control thanks to a treaty from 1925. At the time of publication, Norwegian Prime Minister Jonas Gahr Støre was hosting a ceremony in Longyearbyen — the archipelago’s capital — to mark the 100th anniversary. Still, the treaty grants citizens and companies from other countries, including Russia, the right to extract resources, especially coal, since the 1930s.

Some Western intelligence agencies fear this creates opportunities for Russian interference and provocations. The head of Norwegian intelligence, Admiral Nils Andreas Stensønes, warned in June that the Arctic has recently attracted increased attention from Russia, since the Baltic Sea has become a hostile zone for Moscow after its invasion of Ukraine. Three years ago, Russian fishing vessels sabotaged a communication cable connecting the archipelago to the Norwegian mainland. The following year, Putin declared Norway a “hostile country,” and in March Russia accused Norway of violating the treaty with military activities in Svalbard.

For the residents of Barentsburg and the even smaller mining town of Pyramiden, proximity to Russia means increasing isolation. A young woman who arrived from Moscow a month ago admits she desperately wants to leave. Barentsburg’s population has declined from nearly 2,000 in the last century to around 340. There is no economic benefit from a mine that extracts low-quality sulfurous coal, which is burned on site — the power plant’s chimneys spew dirty clouds over the nearby glaciers.

Ukrainians who used to work in the mines have already left. Liberal Russians have also fled, some settling in the thriving Longyearbyen, 40 km away by boat, snowmobile, or helicopter. One Russian woman says it became “too complicated” to stay in Barentsburg after she openly opposed the war in Ukraine. Another says he is stranded on the island without a passport and vows never to return to Russia. Even a short visit to Barentsburg carries risks — Russians traveling to vote in last year’s presidential election were searched and monitored.

The Norwegian governor of Svalbard, Lars Fause, oversees the Russian settlements and reports no tension, but authorities no longer recommend Norwegians or foreign tourists visit them. Some still come to ski, watch wildlife like polar bears, walruses, and whales, and to view the aging Soviet architecture. The iconic four-story “Stella” — a bright orange-and-white block — is promoted as “the world’s northernmost skyscraper.”

The era of better relations between the towns is over. Longyearbyen’s mayor, Terje Aunevik, notes there are no longer mutual visits on national holidays. The Russian parade is more militant and includes symbols of cultural difference, such as a wooden Orthodox cross. Several Soviet flags are painted on buildings in Barentsburg. Russians can visit the archipelago visa-free if traveling by boat from Murmansk. A pro-Putin clergyman has repeatedly visited the town, photographed alongside Orthodox religious symbols.

One of the Saint Petersburg geologists says he spent decades exploring territories in Svalbard for rare earth and other minerals alongside Polish, German, and Norwegian colleagues, but now works only with Russians. A Norwegian marine biologist in Longyearbyen says her joint research with Russian scientists on the sea and ice in a nearby fjord has been discontinued.

Russia will not close the gradually decaying settlement. It has offered to create a research center for scientists from the Global South, but Norwegians are unlikely to allow it. Barentsburg remains a place of propaganda and probably intelligence value for Vladimir Putin. The coal in the mine may not be worth extracting, but it gives Russia a justification to stay anchored there. |BGNES
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Analysis by The Economist