A Russian proposal to link Eurasia by rail promises energy security for India, but transit through Pakistan makes the route a geopolitical non-starter

In the contested arena of Eurasian energy trade, choke points dictate national destinies. When maritime warfare or political instability threatens narrow maritime passages, landlocked supply lines quickly regain their appeal. Facing western sanctions and volatile maritime corridors in the Middle East, Russian officials have floated a bold plan: an overland transit corridor connecting Russia directly to India.

The proposal, outlined by a Russian deputy prime minister, envisions integrating existing transit infrastructure into a multi-modal transport network linking Eurasia. The scheme is not a continuous passenger line running seamlessly from Moscow to New Delhi. Instead, it expands upon the International North-South Transport Corridor (INSTC), a 7,200-kilometre matrix of rail, road, and maritime routes designed to bypass western-dominated supply chains.

The strategic motivation for both nations is straightforward. For Russia, the conflict in Ukraine shattered its long-standing energy and industrial reliance on European buyers. Moscow has consequently turned its gaze toward Asian consumers, aiming to transform itself into a central trade hub bridging Europe and Asia. For India, the necessity of securing supply routes became painfully obvious during recent disruptions near the Strait of Hormuz, a maritime bottleneck through which roughly twenty percent of the world’s global energy supply flows.

Prior to the war in Ukraine, Russian crude accounted for barely one percent of India’s total oil imports. Today, despite foreign political pressures, Russia supplies roughly forty percent of India’s imported oil. As traditional maritime lanes face escalating threats, the prospect of a secure overland pipeline and rail network for crude, fertilizers, and industrial commodities carries obvious appeal for both buyer and seller.

Yet geography and history present formidable obstacles to Moscow’s vision. Under the eastern and western branches of the proposed network, freight originating in Russia would traverse Azerbaijan or Central Asian states like Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan, pass through Iran, and extend through Afghanistan and Pakistan before reaching the Indian border.

It is precisely the requirement to transit Pakistan that turns a logical logistical concept into a political impossibility. Indian strategists view any vital infrastructure crossing Pakistani territory as inherently vulnerable to hostile state action, sabotage, or militant attack. History offers a sobering lesson. For decades, ambitious plans such as the Turkmenistan-Afghanistan-Pakistan-India (TAPI) gas pipeline and the Iran-Pakistan-India (IPI) energy corridor languished on drawing boards before collapsing under the weight of security risks and political hostility.

Recognizing these vulnerabilities, India has historically focused on maritime alternatives. To bypass Pakistan entirely, New Delhi invested heavily in Iran’s deep-water port at Chabahar. That facility was designed to allow Indian goods to sea-freight to the Gulf of Oman, then move overland through Iran into Afghanistan, Central Asia, and eventually Russia.

However, maritime routes are increasingly subject to regional conflicts. Blockades around the Strait of Hormuz and drone attacks on Red Sea shipping lanes have exposed the limits of maritime trade. Even dedicated infrastructure, such as Saudi Arabia's East-West pipeline to the Red Sea port of Yanbu, has proven vulnerable to regional instability.

Russia’s enthusiasm for infrastructure expansion reflects a familiar global pattern: using transport corridors to extend economic influence. China pioneered this model through its Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), deploying massive loans to construct ports, railways, and highways across Asia, Africa, and Europe.

Yet China’s experience also highlights the perils of overland megaprojects. India steadfastly refused to join the Belt and Road Initiative, objecting to the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) because it runs through Pakistan-administered Kashmir, land New Delhi claims as its own territory. Beijing argued that CPEC was merely an economic transit arrangement that did not prejudice sovereign claims, but India refused to compromise on territorial integrity.

Beyond political obstacles, the Russian plan faces daunting financial and logistical questions. Multi-modal freight transport requires switching cargo between rail cars, container trucks, and cargo ships across multiple borders, each with distinct customs regimes, rail gauges, and security requirements.

Furthermore, the economic viability of complex transit corridors is far from guaranteed. Across developing nations, several Belt and Road projects have struggled to generate enough commercial traffic to service their construction debts, saddling host countries like Sri Lanka and Pakistan with unsustainable financial liabilities. Building and maintaining 7,200 kilometres of high-capacity transport infrastructure across politically unstable regions requires guaranteed freight volumes that current trade flows may not justify.

Trade routes are rarely neutral conduits of commerce; they are shaped by geopolitical realities. When traditional commercial relationships are severed by tariffs, sanctions, or conflict, nations inevitably seek new trade partners and alternative routes. Moscow’s proposal to extend its rail connections toward South Asia reflects a genuine desire to adapt to its economic isolation from the West.

Yet for New Delhi, the imperative to diversify energy supplies cannot override fundamental national security considerations. A supply line that hands Pakistan an operational lever over Indian energy supplies remains an unacceptable risk. Moscow may envision a seamlessly connected Eurasian economy, but until the deep security divide between South Asia's nuclear-armed rivals is resolved, this ambitious railway corridor will remain a blueprint rather than a reality.