Transnistria
Based on Transnistria
The Country That Doesn't Exist
Imagine a place with its own government, parliament, army, currency, and flag—but no seat at the United Nations. A place where you can get a passport that no other country will recognize, where the hammer and sickle still adorns official buildings, and where Russian soldiers have been stationed since the early 1990s despite having no legal right to be there. Welcome to Transnistria, a sliver of land wedged between Moldova and Ukraine that has been operating as an independent state for over three decades without a single country on Earth acknowledging its existence.
This isn't a quirky historical footnote. It's a frozen conflict at the heart of Europe that has suddenly thawed into urgent relevance as Russia's 2022 invasion of Ukraine has redrawn the strategic map of the region.
A Strip of Land Between Empires
Transnistria occupies a peculiar geography. It's a narrow ribbon of territory, most of it squeezed between the Dniester River and the Ukrainian border. The name itself—sometimes spelled Transdniestria or rendered in its local form as Pridnestrovie—simply means "beyond the Dniester" in Romanian. From Moldova's perspective, it's the land on the left bank of the river.
The capital, Tiraspol, is the largest city. It sits just forty miles from Chișinău, Moldova's capital, but the two might as well be in different centuries. While Moldova has oriented itself toward the European Union—even achieving candidate status—Tiraspol remains frozen in a Soviet aesthetic, complete with Lenin statues and red stars.
The population is a complicated tapestry. Russians, Moldovans (who are ethnically identical to Romanians), and Ukrainians each comprise roughly a third of the inhabitants. Russian serves as the common tongue for most, regardless of ethnicity. This linguistic reality lies at the heart of how the conflict began.
The Soviet Experiment
To understand Transnistria, you need to understand a peculiar Soviet creation: the Moldavian Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republic, established in 1924. The Soviets carved this entity out of Ukrainian territory—land that had never been part of historical Moldova—partly as a political statement. At the time, Romania controlled Bessarabia, the territory between the Prut and Dniester rivers that forms the heartland of modern Moldova. The Soviets considered this Romanian possession illegitimate. By creating a "Moldavian" republic on their side of the border, they were laying groundwork for a future claim.
That claim was realized in 1940. Under the secret protocols of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact—the notorious non-aggression agreement between Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union that carved up Eastern Europe—the Soviets annexed Bessarabia from Romania. They then combined it with parts of the old autonomous republic to create the Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic. This forced marriage of two territories with different histories and demographic compositions would eventually tear apart.
The Dark Chapter
World War Two brought unimaginable horror to this region. When Axis forces—Germany and its allies, including Romania—invaded the Soviet Union in 1941, Romania took control of the territory between the Dniester River and the Southern Bug, establishing what they called the Transnistria Governorate. The regional capital was Odesa, now Ukraine's major Black Sea port.
What followed was genocide. Between 150,000 and 250,000 Jews, both Ukrainian and Romanian, were deported to this territory. The majority were murdered or died from starvation, disease, and brutal conditions in ghettos and concentration camps. This chapter of the Holocaust is less well-known than the extermination camps of Poland, but it was no less devastating for the communities it destroyed.
When Soviet forces retook the region in 1944, they brought their own brutality. Hundreds of inhabitants were executed, imprisoned, or exiled to Siberia on charges of collaboration with the Romanians. In a single operation in July 1949, over eleven thousand families were deported to Kazakhstan and Siberia—a collective punishment that scattered communities to the winds.
The Unraveling
For four decades, the Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic functioned as a constituent part of the Soviet Union. Then came Mikhail Gorbachev.
His policies of perestroika (restructuring) and glasnost (openness) unleashed forces that would ultimately dissolve the entire Soviet system. In Moldova, this meant a resurgence of Romanian national identity that had been suppressed for decades. The Popular Front of Moldova emerged as the leading nationalist movement, demanding that Moldovan—which is linguistically identical to Romanian—become the sole state language, that the Latin alphabet replace the Cyrillic script the Soviets had imposed, and that the shared ethnic identity of Moldovans and Romanians be officially recognized.
These demands terrified the Russian and Ukrainian minorities concentrated in Transnistria and the Gagauz region in the south. Russian wasn't just their mother tongue; it was the language of interethnic communication, the lingua franca that allowed the mosaic of Soviet peoples to function together. If Moldovan became the only official language, they would become second-class citizens overnight. And if Moldova reunified with Romania—a prospect openly discussed—they would find themselves minorities in a state with which they had no historical connection.
The more radical elements of the Popular Front made things worse. Some openly called for Slavic populations to leave or be expelled. The rhetoric grew ugly and threatening.
The Declaration
On August 31, 1989, Moldova adopted a language law that made Moldovan the official state language, restored the Latin alphabet, and declared the linguistic identity of Moldovan and Romanian. For many Russian-speakers, this was the final straw.
A counter-movement called Yedinstvo—Russian for "Unity"—arose among the Slavic population, demanding equal status for Russian. The following year, as Moldova moved toward independence from the crumbling Soviet Union, Transnistria made its own move. On September 2, 1990, a specially convened congress declared the creation of the Pridnestrovian Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic—a mouthful of a name that essentially claimed Transnistria as a separate Soviet republic that would remain within the USSR even if Moldova left.
Gorbachev, trying desperately to hold the Soviet Union together, declared this proclamation legally null and void. But he took no meaningful action to enforce this judgment. The new Transnistrian authorities gradually consolidated control.
The War Nobody Remembers
What followed was a brief, brutal conflict that has been largely forgotten by the world but which shaped everything that came after.
Armed clashes began in November 1990 around the town of Dubăsari. Volunteers streamed in from Russia to support the separatists, including Cossacks—descendants of the frontier warrior communities that had once served the Russian tsars. By early 1992, the fighting had intensified into open warfare.
Moldova, newly independent, attempted to establish control over its internationally recognized territory. But Transnistria had a powerful ally: the Russian 14th Guards Army, a Soviet military unit that happened to be stationed in the region. In the war's final phase, these Russian forces intervened directly, opening fire on Moldovan troops.
Approximately seven hundred people died. A ceasefire was signed on July 21, 1992. It has held ever since—but so has the division. Moldova has exercised no effective control over Transnistria from that day to this.
The Frozen Conflict
What emerged from the ceasefire was one of Europe's "frozen conflicts"—situations where active fighting has stopped but no political resolution has been achieved. South Ossetia and Abkhazia, both claimed by Georgia but effectively controlled by Russian-backed separatist governments, are the other two post-Soviet examples. These three entities even formed their own mutual recognition club, the Community for Democracy and Rights of Nations, a somewhat ironic name given that none of them are recognized as nations by the international community.
The ceasefire created a Joint Control Commission involving Moldova, Russia, and Transnistria, along with a trilateral peacekeeping force. Russian troops—nominally peacekeepers—have remained on Transnistrian soil ever since. In 2022, the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe formally designated this as a Russian military occupation.
Various diplomatic frameworks have attempted to resolve the situation. The Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe, commonly known as the OSCE, has facilitated negotiations for decades. In 1997, the leaders of Moldova and Transnistria signed a memorandum on normalization of relations—but they interpreted its provisions so differently that it led nowhere.
In 2003, a Russian envoy named Dmitry Kozak proposed what became known as the Kozak Memorandum. It envisioned an asymmetric federation in which Moldova would be the dominant partner but Transnistria would hold veto power over constitutional changes. Moldova's president initially supported it, then backed away under pressure from the OSCE and the United States—particularly after Russia demanded the right to maintain its military presence for another twenty years.
A more elaborate framework called the "5+2" format emerged in 2005, bringing together Moldova, Transnistria, Ukraine, Russia, and the OSCE, with the United States and European Union as observers. It produced nothing of substance. By 2023, Moldova had quietly stopped using the term in diplomatic discussions.
A State Within a Non-State
Transnistria has spent three decades building all the institutions of a sovereign state. It has a constitution, a flag featuring the hammer and sickle, a national anthem, and a coat of arms. It issues its own currency—the Transnistrian ruble—and runs its own postal system. It registers vehicles with its own plates. It has its own police force, its own military.
But none of this is recognized by anyone. Transnistrians who want to travel abroad need a passport from a country that actually exists. Most hold Moldovan citizenship; many have obtained Russian, Romanian, or Ukrainian documents as well.
The economy operates in a gray zone. Since 2005, following an agreement between Moldova and Ukraine, any Transnistrian company wanting to export goods through Ukraine must register with Moldovan authorities. The European Union monitors the Moldova-Ukraine border through a mission that has been operating since that year.
In September 2024, the Transnistrian parliament—the Supreme Council—passed a law banning the use of the word "Transnistria" within the region. Using this internationally common name can now result in a fine or up to fifteen days in jail. The authorities insist on "Pridnestrovie" or the full official title: Pridnestrovian Moldavian Republic.
The War Next Door
For thirty years, Transnistria existed in a kind of suspended animation. The world largely forgot about it. Moldova lacked the power to reintegrate it, Russia found it useful as a pressure point against Moldovan westward orientation, and the residents settled into a peculiar normalcy.
Then, on February 24, 2022, Russia invaded Ukraine.
Suddenly, geography that had seemed academic became urgent. Transnistria shares a 405-kilometer border with Ukraine. In the early days of the invasion, there was open speculation that Russian forces might try to push through southern Ukraine to link up with their troops in Transnistria, creating a land corridor that would cut off Moldova and threaten the entire region.
That didn't happen. Ukrainian resistance was far stiffer than Russia anticipated, and the southern offensive stalled. But Ukraine sealed its border with Transnistria, cutting off what had been the primary route for goods entering the territory. Overnight, Transnistria became entirely dependent on Moldova's willingness to allow imports through its own border.
The tables had turned. For decades, Russia had used Transnistria as leverage over Moldova. Now Moldova held the cards. The separatist authorities found themselves in an impossible position: economically strangled, militarily isolated, and watching their patron state bleed resources in a war that showed no signs of ending.
The Energy Crisis
The situation grew more desperate on January 1, 2025, when an agreement under which Russian gas was delivered via Ukraine expired. The pipeline that had supplied Transnistria with cheap Russian gas—the lifeblood of its economy—went silent. An energy crisis gripped the territory. Only in August 2025 was a temporary deal reached to restore gas supplies through Moldova until March 2026.
Transnistrian politicians have grown increasingly anxious. The Supreme Council has requested economic assistance from Russia and appealed to the OSCE and the European Parliament, claiming that Moldova is destroying Transnistria's economy and violating human rights. Some have called for a referendum on joining Russia—echoing the staged votes in occupied Ukrainian territories that preceded Russia's claimed annexations in 2022.
Whether Russia has the capacity or even the desire to "annex" Transnistria remains unclear. The territory would be a liability in many ways: an enclave with no land connection to Russia, surrounded by hostile or potentially hostile neighbors, with no strategic value that could justify the resources needed to absorb it. But rational calculations don't always drive Moscow's decisions.
The View from Chișinău
For Moldova, the question of reintegration has suddenly become real in a way it hasn't been for decades. The country's pro-European government, led by President Maia Sandu, has consistently stated that it seeks a peaceful resolution—but it has also made clear that Moldova will not accept permanent division or tolerate Transnistria being used as a Russian military platform.
The situation creates both opportunity and risk. If Russia's position continues to weaken, Transnistria's authorities may eventually conclude that they have no choice but to negotiate seriously. The population, facing economic hardship and the reality that their protector is bogged down in an unwinnable war, might pressure their leaders toward pragmatism.
But there's also the danger of desperation. A cornered Russia might try to create problems for Moldova, perhaps by fomenting instability or making moves that force Chișinău into difficult choices. The approximately 1,500 Russian troops in Transnistria, though not a formidable military force, represent a tripwire that could complicate any scenario.
What Comes Next
Transnistria exists in a kind of purgatory. It is not quite a country, not quite a province. Its people live in a legal fiction sustained by Russian backing and Moldovan inability—or unwillingness—to resolve the situation by force.
The question now is whether the shocks of the past few years have finally unfrozen this frozen conflict. Moldova is moving toward European Union membership. Ukraine, though devastated by war, has made clear it wants the same future. Russia's ability to project power into its former Soviet periphery has been dramatically diminished.
The residents of Transnistria—the Russians, Ukrainians, and Moldovans who have built lives in this strange statelet—face an uncertain future. Some are true believers in the separatist cause. Others simply want stability and economic opportunity, whatever flag flies overhead. Many have already obtained alternative passports, hedging their bets.
The Lenin statues still stand in Tiraspol. The hammer and sickle still adorns the flag. But the Soviet Union whose memory Transnistria clings to has been dead for over three decades. The question is how much longer its ghost can sustain a country that doesn't exist.