EDITORIAL: China Is Secretly Training Russian Soldiers for CBRN Warfare — The West Must Respond

Muradov: The Deputy Commander-in-Chief Leading the Delegation

The presence of Colonel General Rustam Muradov at the head of the Russian delegation is the strongest indication of the importance attached to this cooperation. Muradov is not a military bureaucrat—he is the deputy commander-in-chief of the Russian ground forces, a man directly involved in the planning and execution of operations in Ukraine. His presence in Beijing to oversee a CBRN training exercise means that this cooperation is considered strategically relevant to the ongoing war effort—not to some hypothetical future war.

Russian Major General Vitaly Gerasimov (not to be confused with General Valery Gerasimov, the Chief of the General Staff) also participated in a course in Bengbu, Anhui Province. These training sessions in the provinces, far from the diplomatic spotlight, illustrate the depth of the cooperation: this is not a diplomatic showcase program, but rather an operational training program spread across several Chinese military facilities.

Li Jinsun: Director of the PLA’s CBRN Academy

On the Chinese side, the presence of Major General Li Jinsun—director of the PLA’s Military Academy of Radiological, Chemical, and Biological Defense—at the opening of one of the courses is particularly telling. This academy is China’s leading institution for training in CBRN warfare. The fact that a general of this stature presided over the opening of the training program for Russian soldiers demonstrates that the decision to cooperate did not come from mid-level commanders—it was approved at the very top of the military hierarchy.

These generals do not act on their own initiative. In China, where the Communist Party controls the People’s Liberation Army directly under the authority of President Xi Jinping, cooperation of this nature can only exist with the approval of the highest level of power. The question of Beijing’s responsibility in this cooperation is therefore beyond any doubt.

Xi Jinping says: China is neutral. Xi Jinping does: his generals are training Putin’s soldiers in chemical and radiological warfare. The gap between words and deeds is now documented, signed, and dated.

The Confirmation from Brussels and Its Implications

On June 15, 2026, the European Union’s foreign policy chief, Kaja Kallas, stated that Brussels had confirmed through its own channels that the training had indeed taken place. This statement is significant for several reasons. First, it indicates that European intelligence agencies—working both individually and collectively—had access to independent information corroborating Reuters’ findings. Second, Kallas’s decision to publicly confirm this information is a deliberate political move: it signals to Beijing that the EU is aware of what is happening and will act accordingly.

Kallas added that the EU is now assessing the implications of these revelations. As of this writing, that assessment is still ongoing. But a Brussels official quoted by Reuters was particularly blunt: the EU must stop viewing China primarily through an economic lens and recognize its role as a “decisive enabler” of the war in Ukraine. This marks a major conceptual shift in how Brussels has traditionally framed its relations with Beijing—as a trade partner, systemic competitor, and rival.

The EU and Chinese Sanctions Already in Place

Even before these revelations, the European Union had already imposed sanctions on Chinese companies suspected of supporting Russia’s war effort—notably manufacturers of dual-use electronic components used in Russian missiles and drones. These sanctions had sparked diplomatic protests from China but had little concrete impact on trade flows. The revelation of direct military training adds a qualitatively different dimension: this is no longer about electronic components; it is about soldiers.

The question now facing Brussels is how to calibrate the response. Massive economic sanctions against China would entail considerable economic costs for European economies—China remains the EU’s second-largest trading partner. But failing to respond substantially would amount to sending the signal that Sino-Russian military cooperation can continue with impunity, in defiance of the rules of the international order.

Europe faces a major choice. It can continue to treat China primarily as a trading partner while it trains the soldiers who are killing Ukrainians—or it can have the courage to call a spade a spade and act accordingly. That courage is still lacking.

“Completely baseless”—China’s official denial

Beijing’s official response to the revelations by Reuters and Kallas followed a well-rehearsed script. The Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs stated that the allegations were “completely baseless” and that China’s position on the Ukrainian crisis “had remained consistent.” Beijing dismissed Kallas’s remarks as “pure slander.” This is the language of systematic denial that characterizes Chinese public diplomacy in the face of accusations—neither a documented denial nor an implicit confirmation, but a categorical refutation accompanied by a counter-accusation of bad faith.

This denial is all the more untenable given that Reuters has published documents, names, dates, and signatures. This is not an anonymous allegation—it is a dossier. Faced with a dossier, political denial may work in the short term in diplomatic forums, but it does not stand up to scrutiny by international security experts, who now have documentary evidence of the cooperation.

China, the Self-Proclaimed Peace Mediator

Beijing continues to officially present itself as a potential peace mediator in the Ukrainian conflict. This stance—maintained in particular by a 12-point “peace plan” published in 2023 that neither Ukraine nor the West took seriously—has become difficult to sustain in the face of evidence of direct military cooperation. A credible mediator does not secretly train soldiers from one of the parties to the conflict, taking care not to leave any media trail.

This contradiction between diplomatic rhetoric and military actions is precisely what Western capitals must insistently highlight. Beijing cannot simultaneously be a mediator in good faith and a military facilitator for Russia. The choice is its own. But the consequences of that choice must also be its own—and they must be made visible, tangible, and costly.

China presents itself as a mediator while its generals train Russian soldiers. This is mediation with double standards—it supports the aggressor while claiming to want peace. This deception deserves to be systematically exposed in every international forum.

Kartapolov: “Complete nonsense”

On the Russian side, the reaction was even more inept than China’s denial. Deputy Andrei Kartapolov, chairman of the Russian parliament’s defense committee, told RTVI that the report on the training was “complete nonsense” and that the Russian military had “nothing to learn from China.” This statement is revealing in two ways: first, it bears the mark of the wounded pride of a power that does not like to admit dependence on another. Second, it does not formally deny that the training took place—it merely asserts that it would be useless.

This nuance has not escaped analysts. If the training had not taken place, the obvious response would have been to deny the facts. Instead, Kartapolov denies its usefulness. It is a semantic shift that resembles an implicit confirmation more than a firm denial. The Russian and Chinese defense ministries, for their part, declined to comment—a telling silence that completes the picture.

The Russian Logic: Necessary Partners Despite the Humiliation

Russia’s position in this cooperation is paradoxical. Moscow, which sees itself as a major military power, must agree to receive training from China—a country with which it has a relationship historically marked by mistrust, even hostility. Kartapolov’s assertion that Russia has “nothing to learn” from China precisely betrays this unease. But the pressures of war, the deterioration of Russian forces after four years of high-intensity conflict, and capability gaps in the CBRN domain have made this cooperation necessary in the eyes of Belousov’s ministry.

This is a silent humiliation that Putin must manage domestically. A regime that has based its legitimacy on Russian military might and national pride—insisting that Russia has the world’s second-strongest military—finds itself in an uncomfortable position when it must send its officers abroad to be trained by an Asian power in basic protective skills.

Kartapolov says Russia has nothing to learn from China. And yet, the generals were there in Beijing, taking notes in front of models of nuclear reactors. Russian pride remains intact. The operational shortcomings, however, were just as evident.

A Beijing-Moscow Axis That Extends Beyond Ukraine

CBRN training is just the tip of the iceberg of military cooperation between China and Russia, which has accelerated since 2022. The two countries have intensified their joint military exercises—notably strategic air patrols involving nuclear bombers in the western Pacific and over the Sea of Japan. They have deepened their cooperation in the fields of reconnaissance satellites, GPS navigation (alternating between GLONASS and BeiDou), and certain areas of missile defense.

This strategic convergence is not a formal alliance—both countries officially maintain that they are not allies. But it is producing concrete effects that increasingly resemble a functional alliance: coordination of diplomatic operations in international forums, synchronized rhetoric on “multipolarity” and the decline of U.S. hegemony, and now direct military cooperation on combat capabilities.

North Korea and Iran Round Out the Picture

Sino-Russian cooperation is part of a broader dynamic that some analysts describe as the “axis of autocrats.” North Korea has supplied Russia with artillery shells and, according to Western assessments, soldiers to fight in Ukraine—and in exchange receives oil, technology, and diplomatic protection in international forums. Iran has provided the designs for the Shahed drones and essential components for Russian drone production.

These four actors—Russia, China, Iran, and North Korea—collectively represent a structural challenge to the liberal international order established since the end of World War II. Ukraine is the primary battleground of this systemic confrontation. How the West responds to this revelation from China will partly determine whether other confrontations will follow elsewhere in the world.

Russia, China, Iran, and North Korea—four regimes that have nothing in common except their hatred of the world order the West has built. This is no coincidence. It is a coalition. And we must treat it as such.

Russian Soldiers with Better CBRN Training: A Real Threat

The direct military value of the CBRN training provided by China for operations in Ukraine is real but must be qualified. In Ukraine, the war is being fought primarily through infantry combat, artillery, drones, and air defense—not large-scale chemical or biological warfare. CBRN defense training nevertheless enables Russian forces to better protect themselves in contaminated environments, to be more effective during operations in industrial areas affected by explosions releasing chemicals, and to be theoretically better prepared should the conflict escalate to the use of unconventional weapons.

This last point is the most concerning. Putin’s nuclear rhetoric, the chemical capabilities Russia has historically employed—notably against Alexei Navalny and other opponents—and the CBRN training received from China combine to paint a picture of potential escalation that NATO planners cannot ignore.

Beijing’s Military Aid: Below the “Lethal” Threshold—For Now

Until this Reuters report, China had carefully kept its support for Russia below a so-called “lethal” threshold—that is, it was not supplying weapons directly used to kill Ukrainians. It supplied dual-use electronic components, dual-use technologies, financing through unsanctioned banks, and trade flows that offset the effects of Western sanctions. CBRN training is dangerously approaching this threshold: training soldiers who will fight in Ukraine directly contributes to Russia’s combat capability even without supplying weapons.

This line that Beijing is striving to maintain—to avoid massive economic sanctions from the West—is becoming increasingly difficult to uphold. And if China continues to move along this continuum of military support without suffering economic consequences, the temptation to cross the lethal threshold will increase over time.

Below the lethal threshold—for now. Those four words, “for now,” are the most important in this analysis. The West must ensure that the cost of crossing that threshold is clearly communicated to Beijing—before it crosses it.

Imposing Sanctions on Entities Involved in Military Training

The West’s response to this revelation must be commensurate with the gravity of the situation. Sanctions targeting the Chinese military entities directly involved—notably the Military Academy of Radiological, Chemical, and Biological Defense and its leaders—would send a clear initial signal. While these sanctions would certainly have a limited impact, since these entities have no assets in the West, they would set an important precedent and send a message to entities with economic ties to the West that might be tempted to participate in similar military cooperation.

The second essential measure is to strengthen export control mechanisms on dual-use technologies that could benefit Sino-Russian military cooperation. The United States has already established a comprehensive framework, but European allies still have loopholes that Beijing continues to exploit through third countries and front companies.

Publicly Redefining Beijing’s Neutrality as a Political Lie

Perhaps the most important measure is symbolic but politically crucial: Western leaders must stop perpetuating the myth of Chinese neutrality in their public communications. Every time a Western leader says “we hope China will play a constructive role” or “we call on China to use its influence,” they implicitly validate the image of a mediator that Beijing seeks to project. Following the revelations of July 1, 2026, this rhetoric is no longer tenable. Kaja Kallas has led the way by calling China a “decisive enabler.” This terminology must be adopted by all NATO and EU leaders.

This shift in language is not insignificant. In international diplomacy, words define the frameworks for action. By perpetuating the myth of Chinese neutrality, the West has offered Beijing diplomatic cover, which it has taken full advantage of to deepen its cooperation with Moscow. It is time to withdraw that cover.

Kaja Kallas referred to it as a “decisive enabler.” This terminology must permeate all communications from the 32 NATO nations. Chinese neutrality died on July 2, 2025—the day its officers signed the training agreement with Moscow. It is time to officially bury it.

What China-Russia Cooperation Tells Washington’s Asian Allies

Sino-Russian military cooperation has implications that extend far beyond the European theater. For the United States’ Asian allies—Japan, South Korea, Australia, the Philippines, and, of course, Taiwan—it illustrates that China is willing to violate international norms by supporting a war of aggression, as long as the cost is bearable. This lesson directly informs Beijing’s calculations regarding Taiwan: if the West tolerates Sino-Russian military cooperation on Ukraine without a substantial response, why would it expect a different response to Chinese military action against Taiwan?

Asian allies have taken careful note of the Reuters report. Japan, which shares with Ukraine the vulnerability of being a potential target of an authoritarian neighbor with irredentist ambitions, has reacted with particular concern. South Korea, which must simultaneously manage North Korean provocations and the Sino-Russian rapprochement, has also intensified its consultations with its American and European allies.

The G7 and Aligning Positions

The G7 summit in France, held in late June 2026, provided the major democracies with a prime opportunity to align their positions on China’s role in the war in Ukraine. The NATO summit in Ankara, scheduled for July 7 and 8, 2026, must go further: it must adopt a common language regarding China as a facilitator of Russian aggression and define coordination mechanisms for a collective response. This is not a declaration of war against Beijing. It is clarity—and clarity is the beginning of deterrence.

The revelation on July 1, 2026, marks a turning point. It offers democracies the opportunity to adjust their assessment of China before the situation deteriorates further. Missing this opportunity would be a strategic mistake whose consequences will be felt far beyond Ukraine and far beyond this decade.

The G7 summit was one such opportunity. The NATO summit in Ankara will be another. If the West fails to agree on a common narrative regarding China after July 1, 2026, I fear we will realize—only too late—what it means to allow a decisive enabler to operate with impunity.

Trade versus Security: A False Dilemma

The argument used to justify not imposing severe sanctions on China is economic: China is the European Union’s second-largest trading partner, and massive sanctions would cost European economies—already weakened—hundreds of billions of euros. This argument is valid but incomplete. It compares the certain short-term cost of sanctions to the uncertain long-term cost of inaction—an asymmetry in the calculation that consistently works in favor of risk-averse decision-makers.

The cost of inaction, however, is considerable: if China bolsters Russia’s military capabilities to the point where Russia wins a victory in Ukraine, the economic consequences for Europe—massive rearmament, destabilization of its eastern borders, refugee flows, and humanitarian costs—will far exceed the cost of trade sanctions against Beijing. This is a strategic calculation that European economists struggle to grasp because it requires thinking in terms of decades, not quarters.

Targeted and Gradual Sanctions: The Realistic Path

The realistic approach is not to choose between trade and security, but to design targeted and gradual sanctions that raise the cost of Sino-Russian military cooperation without triggering a catastrophic economic decoupling. This involves precise sanctions on entities and individuals involved in military cooperation, strengthened restrictions on dual-use technologies, and international coordination to ensure that these sanctions are not circumvented via third countries.

China, which has considerable economic interests to protect with the West, is sensitive to this targeted pressure. It is not immune to economic costs. But it will only bear them if the West imposes them consistently and with unity—not if each member country makes individual, short-term calculations that protect its own specific trade interests.

Trade with China is not free. It now includes a hidden cost: indirectly financing the training of soldiers fighting in Ukraine. No one accounts for this cost in trade balances. It is time to start.

Constant Criticism, Little Heed

President Zelensky has been denouncing China’s support for Russia for months. He has repeatedly called on Beijing to stop supplying Moscow with the electronic components and technologies that fuel the production of drones and missiles. These calls have found little echo in the official statements of European governments, which have preferred to nurture their trade relations with China rather than follow the head of state of a country at war into uncomfortable diplomatic confrontations.

The revelation of the CBRN training—documented, signed, and dated—changes the game. It no longer leaves Europe and its allies any room to claim that China’s support for Russia is ambiguous, indirect, or below the threshold of what is unacceptable. It is now direct, military, approved at the highest levels of the hierarchy, and linked to the war raging just a few hundred kilometers from the European Union’s eastern borders.

Solidarity with Kyiv as a Strategic Act

Supporting Zelenskyy and Ukraine in this context is not just a moral act—it is a strategic one. It serves as a reminder to China, North Korea, Iran, and all authoritarian regimes watching closely that military aggression comes at a cost, that democracies will resist, and that the rules-based international order can survive attempts to destroy it. If this lesson is embedded in Beijing’s calculations before it makes an irreversible decision regarding Taiwan, it may have saved lives far beyond the European continent.

The revelation of July 1, 2026, is a test. A test of the West’s political will to clearly name its enemies, to defend its values consistently, and to act accordingly. Zelensky and Ukraine have done their part. For more than four years, they have held their ground against a military aggression backed by three powers that wish them no good. It is now time for the West to rise to the occasion.

Zelensky has said this from the start. China is not neutral. It took a decree signed by Belousov and photos of generals in Beijing for some in Europe to deign to listen. This selective deafness comes at a cost—paid by Ukrainian soldiers, not by diplomats.

Complacency Is No Longer an Option

I am writing this editorial on July 1, 2026, the very day Reuters publishes its investigation. I am writing it because I believe that Western complacency in the face of the rising power of the Sino-Russian axis has already cost Ukraine dearly. Every month that the West hesitated to call out China clearly was another month in which Beijing was able to deepen its cooperation with Moscow without facing any consequences. This complacency is not diplomatic wisdom. It is cowardice disguised as pragmatism.

The facts revealed today by Reuters deserve a response commensurate with their gravity. Not statements of concern, not discreet bilateral consultations, not internally assessed reports—but visible actions, clear public positions, and tangible costs for the parties involved. That is what the situation demands. This is what history will remember if the West decides to rise to the occasion.

What I ask of those who read this editorial

To you who are reading these lines—citizens, elected officials, civil servants, journalists—I ask this: do not let this revelation get lost in the flood of July news. Do not treat it as just another geopolitical footnote in an already saturated news cycle. Understand what it means: China is actively training Putin’s soldiers. This is not some abstract geopolitical concept. These are men who will return to the battlefields of Ukraine better prepared to operate in contaminated environments, better prepared for the war that Putin continues to wage against a people who simply want to live freely.

Ukraine is resisting. It intercepts 130 drones every night, strikes the hangars in Saky, and holds the front lines in the Donbas. It deserves for the West to be as courageous, as clear, and as determined in its boardrooms as Ukrainian soldiers are in their trenches.

I am a columnist, not a general. But I know this: writing without conviction at a pivotal moment is also a form of collaboration. This editorial is my refusal to engage in that kind of collaboration.

Diplomacy of Truth Versus Diplomacy of Lies

The most urgent response that Western democracies must provide to the Reuters revelation is not a military one. It is a response based on transparency. Publishing intelligence assessments, sharing documents with allies, and naming the entities involved—this is how we undo the cover-up that China and Russia have invested in this agreement. Every bit of light shed on this cooperation comes at a cost to the two regimes that wanted to keep it secret.

This strategic transparency must be coordinated. If each country releases its information in a scattered manner, the impact is diluted. If the 27 EU member states, NATO allies, and Pacific partners—Japan, Australia, and South Korea—align their communications around a common narrative, the message sent to Beijing will have a far greater impact. This is the kind of coordination that distinguishes a functional alliance from a collection of individual foreign policies.

Strengthening Support for Ukraine as a Direct Response

The most direct response to Sino-Russian cooperation is to increase military and economic support for Ukraine. If China bolsters Russia’s military capabilities, the logical response is to strengthen Ukraine’s capabilities accordingly. In June 2026, the United Kingdom announced a 752-million-pound package including 150,000 drones and more than 350 missiles and radar systems. This is a step in the right direction. Now, other major allies—notably Germany, France, and the United States—must follow suit with comparable commitments.

This escalation in support is not a military escalation toward Russia. It is a proportionate response to the escalation in support that China is providing to Moscow. If the West refuses to increase its aid when China increases its own, the balance will inevitably tip in Russia’s favor—not because Russia is stronger, but because the West will have chosen to lose.

Every time China deepens its military cooperation with Russia, the West must deepen its support for Ukraine in kind. This is the only logical response that is at once proportionate, just, and strategically coherent.

What Reuters Changed

The publication of the Reuters investigation on July 1, 2026, marks a turning point in the public’s understanding of China’s role in the war in Ukraine. Before: We knew that China was providing economic aid to Russia, supplying components, and absorbing Russian exports that the West had sanctioned. After: We know that China is providing military training to Russian soldiers, that this training was approved by a dated ministerial decree, and that high-ranking generals from both countries participated directly in it.

This difference in degree is a difference in nature. And it calls for a different kind of response from the West—not the usual “we express our concerns,” but a response that carries real weight for those behind this cooperation, for Ukrainian soldiers, and for regimes watching to see whether the West still has the will to defend the order it has built.

The war is not lost. Cowardice, however, can be.

Ukraine is not losing this war. On the battlefields of the Donbas, in the night sky over Kyiv, in the hangars of Saky, in the Russian refineries struck by drones—everywhere, the signs point to a resistance that is holding firm. The Russian advance has slowed by 77% in less than a year. Air defenses are intercepting more than 86% of nighttime attacks. And Zelenskyy continues to act, to strike, to propose.

What could cause the West to lose this war is not Russia or China. It is cowardice. The cowardice of not calling things by their proper names. The cowardice of prioritizing good trade relations over the truth. The cowardice of letting Ukrainian soldiers die while diplomats debate the right tone to adopt with Beijing. That kind of cowardice is a choice we can make. But if we choose it, we cannot say we didn’t know.

July 1, 2026, is a point of no return. China has chosen its side. It is now time for the West to choose its own—clearly, unambiguously, and without further delay. History will judge those who have chosen silence.

Signed, Maxime Marquette, columnist