Twenty fresh carnations are leaning against a memorial plaque at the Russian military cemetery not far from the city of Dalian in northern China. It is the final resting place for a number of Soviet pilots, their tombstones crowned with sculptures of aircraft.

The day before, says a woman who runs a small store nearby, soldiers from the Chinese military suddenly showed up, cordoning off the entire cemetery so a Russian delegation could honor their fallen from the Korean War. In that conflict, the Russians and the Chinese fought side-by-side against the United States and its allies.

More than 70 years have passed since then, but the joint commemoration in Dalian provides a clear demonstration that Moscow and Beijing continue to hold their former military alliance in high regard.

Russia's war against Ukraine has done nothing to change that. Since the invasion began a year and a half ago, Beijing and Moscow have further intensified their already close ties in a number of areas, including military cooperation, business and trade and in the area of societal exchanges. Contrary to China's assertion that the country is taking a neutral stance in the "Ukraine conflict," as Beijing officialese refers to the war, the two nations appear to be forging a united front.

Putin and Xi Meet for Third Time Since Start of War

Vladimir Putin arrived in Beijing on Tuesday for the meeting of the Silk Road partner countries at the Belt and Road Forum. It is the third time he and Chinese leader Xi Jinping have met since Russia invaded Ukraine.

Moscow, for its part, is making no attempt to play down its close ties with China. On the contrary, having the world's second-largest power on its side is an invaluable asset for Russia. At most, Moscow officials would like to avoid giving the impression of increased dependence on Beijing, even if the facts clearly speak a different language.

Xi and Putin stage their summits to look like meetings of equals. And the two autocrats appear to get on quite well. Putin addresses Xi as his "dear old friend," who in turn has called Putin his "best friend." They have awarded each other honorary doctorates from their respective alma maters and – on the periphery of international summits – celebrated birthdays together on several occasions: in 2013 in Bali over vodka and sausage, and in 2019 in Tajikistan with ice cream.

In June, Putin congratulated Xi on his 70th birthday. The Russian leader himself is only eight months older than his Chinese counterpart. His father fought against Nazi Germany in World War II, and Xi's father fought against Japan as a communist official. They both experienced difficult years during their youth. And both have daughters.

But beyond their similar backgrounds, they share an overarching political goal: that of breaking U.S. dominance. Russia and China see themselves as pushing back against Washington's "pursuit of hegemony," while "the friendship between the two countries has no limits, there are no 'forbidden' areas of cooperation." That's from the text of a joint statement from February 4, 2022, adopted shortly before the Russian invasion of Ukraine, when Xi received his guest of honor Putin for the opening ceremony of the Winter Olympics in Beijing.

Last March, by which time the war had been raging for more than a year, the Chinese leader paid a return visit – one of only two foreign trips Xi has made in 2023. Putin prepared festivities for his visitor that paralyzed half of Moscow for three days. On the last evening, conveniently within range of the camera microphones, Xi bid farewell to his host on the steps of the Kremlin with the words: "Right now, there are changes of the kind we haven't seen in 100 years. And we are the ones driving these changes together." Putin replied: "I agree."

At the tip of the Liaodong Peninsula in northeast China is a sweeping bay, well-protected from the ocean swells by a spit of land. A narrow passage allow ships a convenient entryway. Given its strategic location, the natural deep-water port is the perfect place for a naval base – a fact recognized by the Russian czar way back in 1898, when the Russian Empire seized the harbor, called Port Arthur at the time. It wasn't until 1955, six years after the founding of the People's Republic, that the Soviet Union returned it to China.

Today, the People's Liberation Army has control of Lüshunkou, as the Chinese have named the port. It's a restricted military area, but a lookout tower on a nearby hill offers a decent view of the naval dockyard, fuel tanks painted in camouflage, and at least 20 Chinese warships of various classes lying quietly on the glittering water on this September day.

In August, ships like these turned up in waters far away – off the coast of Alaska. China sent destroyers, frigates and a supply ship to the region in a formation that included Russian warships. Although the flotilla did not enter U.S. territorial waters, American naval experts nevertheless considered its deployment to be "highly provocative" and said it was an "historic first."

Moscow and Beijing began performing joint maritime patrols the year before the war and have continued them ever since. The two countries' air forces have also been conducting patrols together for the past few years. After taking office in March, Chinese Defense Minister Li Shangfu visited Moscow twice before disappearing from the public stage at the end of August, possibly under suspicions of corruption.

Russian-Chinese military cooperation has been actively promoted by the Shanghai Cooperation Organization, an anti-Western security forum whose expansion has been vigorously pursued by Beijing. In addition to patrols, the two countries are also conducting joint military exercises, such as the giant "Vostok" maneuver in September 2022, personally commanded by Russia's chief of general staff, Valery Gerasimov.

The war has in no way led China to scale down the intensity of that cooperation. Zhou Bo, a retired colonel in the People's Liberation Army and now a senior fellow at Beijing Tsinghua University's Center for International Security and Strategy, says the blame lies with Washington. "The Americans are stepping up their efforts in the Indo-Pacific," he says. That worries Beijing, he adds. "Joint patrols signal that China and Russia still share interests."

The West shouldn't make the mistake of assessing Sino-Russian relations solely in the context of the war, Zhou says. As neighbors with a shared border more than 4,000 kilometers (2,485 miles) long, he says, the countries have no choice but to get along. Zhou further insists that China has already made contributions to bringing the war to an and - contributions which are, he says, "almost like the air you breathe. You might not be aware of it, but you would notice immediately if it were missing." Zhou points out that Xi has insisted that nuclear weapons be avoided in the conflict – and notes that, although "China cares deeply about friendship with Russia, we have not provided them with any military support."

"Hunting Rifles," Drones and Satellites

Thus far, that does appear to be true when it comes to large-scale military equipment and lethal weapons. Despite U.S. claims in March 2022 that such deliveries were being prepared, it doesn't appear that any have been made. That does not, however, apply to dual-use goods, items that can be used for both military and civilian purposes. They, too, fall under the comprehensive sanctions regime imposed on Russia by the U.S., the European Union and other countries.

In 2022, for example, Russia imported $900 million worth of semiconductors from mainland China and Hong Kong, more than double the previous year's figure. Also documented are Chinese exports of 1,000 "hunting rifles," 154,000 helmets and a significantly increased quantity of ceramics, such as those used in bulletproof vests. According to a contract seen by the news agency AFP, a Chinese company sold two Earth observation satellites in November 2022 to a Russian company belonging to the empire of Yevgeny Prigozhin, who was head of the Wagner mercenary force at the time.

Through March, $12 million worth of drones and related components had found their way to Russia from China. In addition, Japan's Nikkei Asia magazine looked into Russian customs records, where journalists found that at least 37 of these drones were explicitly "intended for use in the special military operation," as Moscow refers to its war of aggression. In the meantime, China has imposed additional export restrictions on civilian drones.

Sanctions Likely To Remain Inconsequential

Xiao Bin, a Russia expert with the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, insists that China's government has nothing to do with such deliveries. "But if some Central Asian states act as intermediaries, China has no leverage," he says. "When the war started, Russian companies opened offices there."

But vendors in China are likely also providing Russia with goods that it is no longer able to obtain elsewhere, as a conversation with a Russian businesswoman in Beijing would seem to indicate. She works for a company that matches up Russian buyers with Chinese manufacturers. Business is good and continues to grow, she says. Currently, she says, her company is receiving numerous requests from Russia for brand-name clothing from companies like adidas and Louis Vuitton. Some requests, though, have struck her as odd, such as the one for hunting rifle scopes.

Such apparent violations of sanctions designed to cut Moscow off from such equipment are likely to continue to go unpunished. The transactions are too discreet to be easily tracked and too small for the West to risk a confrontation with Beijing. Which has made Chinese companies into beneficiaries from Russia's isolation.

Alexander Mikhalik runs a car dealership on an arterial road in southern Moscow. Hyundai logos are still on display in the parking lot, but the red letters of the Chinese car brand BAIC are now emblazoned on the façade of the showroom.

Mikhalik, an athletically built man with short-cropped hair, opens the door of an SUV and taps the dark paneling inside. "Everything is high quality," he says. "The Chinese know what they're doing." He is asking the equivalent of just over 38,000 euros for this BJ40 from BAIC, a bulky all-terrain vehicle reminiscent of a Jeep Wrangler. Mikhalik says there is still some skepticism among his customers about Chinese brands, but he thinks it will subside over time. "People just want to get from point A to point B, and they want to do so with good, affordable cars that are available."

The "old brands," as Mikhalik calls them, are hard to find these days: Volkswagen, Renault, Mazda, Kia, Hyundai, all the makes from Germany, France, Japan and Korea that he sold before the war. The Russian automobile industry experienced a massive crash in the wake of the invasion of Ukraine. Passenger car production slumped by 67 percent, and leading global manufacturers withdrew from Russia. Before the war, more than 50 foreign car brands were officially represented in the country. But by the beginning of 2023, there were only 11 – the vast majority of them from China. By June, that number had crept up to 17.

Last year, Mikhalik was able to sell off the remaining stock he had on order, but after than, he had to spend a few months reorganizing his operation. "Our present and future lies in China," he says. Instead of going to IAA in Munich, he now attends the Auto Shanghai motor show. In addition to BAIC, he has signed contracts with other Chinese manufacturers such as JAC and Chery, and he has redecorated his car dealerships to reflect the change.

Mikhalik is hoping to sell 70 to 100 BAIC cars per month from this showroom, a goal he believes he will reach within six months. There have been times in the past when he would sell twice as many Hyundais per month, but, he points out, BAIC's marketing offensive is just getting underway. Furthermore, three additional models are to be delivered in the coming months. They are assembled in a Kaliningrad plant that used to put together BMWs – vehicles from "unfriendly states," as Russian state television would have it.

"Even if sanctions are eventually lifted, and that will take years, the Chinese will stay," says Mikhalik. "The Koreans, Germans, Japanese and French gave them this market," he says. "They're not going to give it back anytime soon."

Bilateral Trade at Record Levels

The data reflects as much. In 2022, Sino-Russian trade reached the record level of $190 billion, an increase of 30 percent compared to the prewar year. In 2023, that figure is likely to be significantly more, with trade already totaling $155 billion in the first eight months alone. If that trend continues, the volume could reach $230 billion by the end of the year.

As Chinese goods increasingly replace those of Western origin in Russia, a growing amount of energy raw materials are flowing in the opposite direction. In August, Russia supplied 2.5 million barrels of crude oil per day to China – more than Saudi Arabia and 26 percent more than in the same month last year. As a supplier of natural gas, Russia has so far held a less dominant position, but is nevertheless gaining ground. Although China consumed 1.2 percent less gas in 2022 than in 2021, imports of Russian pipeline gas increased by 54 percent.

And all that trade is filling Moscow's war chest. Ukraine is so alarmed by the development that Kyiv, on October 3, officially listed three Chinese oil giants as "international sponsors of war."

Moscow Forced To Sell at Heavy Discount

The extent to which the balance of power is tipping in favor of Beijing can be seen in the price rebates that Moscow has been forced to swallow. Russia calculates that through 2026, it will be able to sell its gas to Europe and Turkey for an average of $481.70 per 1,000 cubic meters. For customers in China, by contrast, the price will average just $271.60 - a discount of 44 percent. Those estimates come from forecasts presented to Russian Prime Minister Mikhail Mishustin in September.

Nonetheless, the Russians still intend to expand supply volumes. To that end, they are promoting the construction of a second gas pipeline from Siberia. So far, China has been stalling, probably in order to dictate better terms. Time seems to be on Beijing's side.

Russia's alternative is liquefied natural gas (LNG). Cooled to minus 163 degrees Celsius and shipped by train to Vladivostok, the Siberian gas can be pumped into tankers and shipped to China or India. Several Chinese companies have the necessary gas liquefaction plants in their portfolio.

"Our foreign business used to be quite modest," says an executive from one of these companies. "There were only a few cases where I had to travel before placing an order." This time, she says, "the project is very big, and the customer wants a face-to-face meeting." First the Russians came to China, and then she traveled to Moscow, her first visit to Russia. The plane was packed with businesspeople.

She also found herself addressing a question with her Russian clients that, not too long ago, would have been considered trivial: How were they going to pay? To which accounts? Do wire transfers valued in dollars violate the sanctions imposed by Washington on some major Russian banks? Should a different currency be used? Or in-kind payments? An agreement hasn't yet been reached.

In many other cases, though, this question was decided long ago – in favor of the Chinese currency. Before the war began, 0.4 percent of Russian exports had been paid for in yuan. But in the first half of 2023, that share was 25 percent of Russia's total foreign trade – and 75 percent of its trade with China. Since February, the yuan has replaced the dollar as the most traded foreign currency in Russia.

But how deep is the push for increasing interdependence? Is it coming primarily from politicians and business executives, or does it stretch into Russian and Chinese societies? Reliable public opinion polls don't exist in China. To be sure, the tone on the Chinese internet is extremely pro-Russian, as prescribed in Beijing's propaganda, but voices critical of Russia are censored.

Among Chinese intellectuals, though, an increasing distance to Russia can be heard. Beijing has certainly been cooperating more closely and in more areas with Moscow since the beginning of the war, allows Russia expert Xiao Bin. "But this has been done at Russia's request." Former Colonel Zhou Bo also stresses: "We do not believe this war is justifiable." But those aren't the kind of statements you hear from the official Chinese side. For Beijing, power-political considerations are the primary factor.

In Russia, 85 Percent View China Favorably

On the side of the weaker partner in this unequal relationship, the picture is somewhat clearer. A survey by the Levada Center, the only independent pollster left in Russia, found that 85 percent of respondents recently said they have a positive view of China. Some 58 percent recognized the country as Russia's closest friend and ally. China came in second in the poll, following only Belarus.

Led Gudkov, the center's academic supervisor, says these sentiments began shifting before the war. The sociologist watched closely as Russia gradually warmed to China, a bit like the adage: "the enemy of my enemy is my friend." He says that Putin's anti-Western speech at the 2007 Munich Security Conference, the Russian annexation of Crimea in 2014 and the initial sanctions that followed are all milestones that sparked an intensification of the Kremlin's rhetoric against the West.