Published on: 05.11.2026 | Interview with: Dr. Laurențiu Pleșca
Transnistria: an interview with Dr. Laurențiu Pleșca
Dr. Pleșca: Tiraspol now depends on Chișinău’s goodwill and on European rules for its basic survival.
Transnistria is a narrow strip of land on the eastern bank of the Dniester River, between the rest of Moldova and Ukraine. It broke away from Moldova after a short war in 1992 and has since run its own government, currency and security forces, although no UN member state recognises it. Russian troops are still stationed there. For more than three decades the conflict was often described as "frozen," but Russia's war against Ukraine, the end of Russian gas transit and Moldova's path towards the EU have put it back on the agenda. In this interview, Dr. Laurențiu Pleșca explains what Transnistria is, how people live there, and what its future might look like.
1. The basics
For readers who have never heard of Transnistria, how would you describe what it is today, and how does daily life there differ from the rest of Moldova?
Transnistria is best understood as a de facto state in decline. It has all the visible attributes of statehood, a president, a parliament, a currency, an army, border posts and a flag, but none of them rests on international recognition, and most of them have depended for three decades on outside support. Daily life looks very different from the right bank of the Dniester. The public space is overwhelmingly Russian speaking, Soviet symbols are everywhere, and the political system leaves almost no room for opposition, independent media or civil society. The economy is dominated by one conglomerate, Sheriff, which owns everything from supermarkets and petrol stations to telecoms and the region’s main political party.
At the same time, the separation is far less complete than it looks. Most residents hold Moldovan passports, often alongside Russian, Ukrainian or Bulgarian ones, which give them visa-free travel to the EU. Many work, study, receive medical care or do business on the right bank. Transnistria’s companies export mainly to the European Union under Moldovan customs rules. So people live in a closed political system, but in an economy and a daily routine that are increasingly tied to Chișinău and to Europe.
2. Russia's role
Russia still keeps troops in the region and a large Soviet-era ammunition depot at Cobasna. In May 2026, Putin also signed a decree simplifying Russian citizenship for Transnistria's residents. What does Russia gain from Transnistria now, and how has the war in Ukraine changed its ability to support the region?
For Moscow, Transnistria has always been less about the territory itself and more about leverage. It is an instrument to keep Moldova unstable, to slow down its European path, and to maintain a military foothold west of Ukraine. The troops and the Cobasna depot, one of the largest stockpiles of Soviet-era ammunition in Europe, serve mainly a political and symbolic function.
The war in Ukraine has weakened this instrument considerably. Since 2022 Ukraine has closed its border with the region, which means Russia cannot rotate or reinforce its troops by land, and the contingent is now largely made up of locals. The end of gas transit removed the main channel of Russian subsidies. What Moscow has left are softer tools, such as passports, pensions, media and identity politics. The decree simplifying citizenship fits exactly this pattern. When Russia can no longer deliver material support at the old level, it tries to compensate by tying people to it legally and symbolically. Russian officials now justify possible “protection” of Transnistria by pointing to the number of Russian citizens living there. That is a familiar playbook, but Russia’s actual capacity to act on it is much weaker than its rhetoric suggests.
3. Energy and the economy
Transnistria long depended on Russian gas delivered through Ukraine, and that transit ended in January 2025. How did this change the region's economy and its relationship with Chișinău, and who keeps it running today?
The end of Russian gas transit in January 2025 was the most important shock in the region’s history since 1992. For decades Transnistria received gas it effectively never paid for, then burned it in the Cuciurgan power plant and sold the electricity to the right bank. That model financed the budget, pensions and cheap utilities. When the gas stopped, the region went through weeks of blackouts and heating cuts, and industry largely stopped working.
Since February 2025 the region has survived on a fragile arrangement. Gas is bought on the European market by a Hungarian-linked trader, paid for with Russian money through intermediaries, and delivered across Moldova’s territory by Moldovagaz. In other words, Russia still pays, but it no longer controls the route, and every molecule passes through European markets and Moldovan infrastructure. That arrangement already broke down once in March 2026, when payment logistics were disrupted, and Chișinău is openly preparing for a scenario in which supplies stop again.
Politically, this has shifted the balance. Tiraspol now depends on Chișinău’s goodwill and on European rules for its basic survival. Moldova has used this moment to extend its fiscal and customs regime and to offer support conditioned on transparency. Meanwhile the region’s own business elite understands perfectly well where its future lies, since roughly three quarters of its exports already go to the EU.
4. The "Moldovan" language
Transnistria officially uses Russian, Ukrainian, and "Moldovan". What is "Moldovan" and what does it tell us about identity politics in the region?
The “Moldovan” language in Transnistria is simply Romanian written in the Cyrillic alphabet, as it was in Soviet Moldova. Linguistically there is no separate language. Politically, however, it is very important. Insisting on Cyrillic “Moldovan” allows Tiraspol to present the region’s Moldovans as a people distinct from Romanians and culturally closer to the Russian world.
This is part of what I would call the identity pillar of Transnistrian statehood. The regime has tried to build a supra-ethnic “Pridnestrovian” identity, Russian speaking, Soviet in its memory, and defined against Chișinău and Bucharest. Schools that teach Romanian in the Latin script, administered by Chișinău, have faced decades of pressure, from evictions to intimidation. Meanwhile Moldova itself officially recognised in 2023 that its state language is Romanian, which deepened the symbolic gap. Language here is not a cultural detail. It is one of the last lines of defence of the separatist project, precisely because the other pillars are eroding.
5. The Bulgarian community
How many Bulgarians live in Transnistria? How do Bulgarians and other minorities in Transnistria live today, and how do they position themselves between Tiraspol, Chișinău, Moscow and Sofia?
Bulgarians are a small but well-rooted community, around 2 to 3 percent of the population according to the region’s last censuses, which suggests somewhere above ten thousand people, including in Bender. Most of them are concentrated in Parcani, a large village between Tiraspol and Bender founded by Bulgarian settlers in the early nineteenth century, where they form a clear majority. Smaller communities live in Tiraspol and Bender themselves.
Like most minorities in the region, Bulgarians tend to be pragmatic rather than ideological. Many are Russian speaking in daily life, but they have preserved their language, church traditions and cultural ties with Bulgaria. Their strongest asset is the Bulgarian passport, which gives them full EU citizenship and the right to work anywhere in the Union, and many young people have used it to leave. In practice they position themselves with multiple loyalties at once, comfortable with Russian culture, dependent on local authorities for daily matters, holding Moldovan documents for practical reasons and Bulgarian ones for their future. This is typical for the region as a whole. Identity in Transnistria is layered, and people collect passports as insurance policies rather than as political statements.
6. Talks and politics
Do Chișinău and Tiraspol talk? How does the relationship look today, politically speaking?
They do talk, but on narrow terms. The broad international 5+2 format, which included Russia, Ukraine, the OSCE, the EU and the US, has been dead since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. What remains is the 1+1 format, direct meetings between the chief negotiators of the two sides under OSCE facilitation. These meetings resumed in February 2026 after more than a year without face-to-face talks and have continued at a slow pace.
The atmosphere has changed significantly. For the first time in decades Chișinău is negotiating from a position of relative strength. It has adopted a new approach to gradual reintegration, extends its legislation step by step, and links practical support, for example through the new Convergence Fund, to concrete steps such as removing illegal checkpoints and respecting human rights. Tiraspol, in turn, insists on returning to the old formats where Russia had a seat at the table, refuses to meet in Chișinău, and has rejected any joint statement based on Moldova’s territorial integrity. Detentions of Moldovan citizens on the left bank remain a serious irritant.
The December presidential election in Tiraspol is also important. The outgoing leader cannot run again, and his designated successor comes from the same security and business establishment, so no change of course should be expected immediately. But leadership transitions in fragile regimes always create moments of uncertainty and bargaining.
7. EU accession
In October 2026, EU foreign policy chief Kaja Kallas said Transnistria will not block Moldova's entry into the EU. How could Moldova join while part of its territory is outside government control? Is Cyprus a useful comparison, or a misleading one?
The EU’s message is very important, because it removes Tiraspol’s and Moscow’s veto over Moldova’s European future. For years the logic was that the conflict had to be solved before accession. Now the logic is reversed. Accession can become a tool of reintegration.
Technically, there are precedents. Cyprus joined the EU in 2004 with the application of EU law suspended in the north, and Germany extended European integration to the East after reunification. Moldova could join with similar arrangements for the territory not under its control.
The Cyprus comparison is useful, but only partly. It is useful because it shows that the EU can legally absorb a divided state. It is misleading in at least three ways. First, Transnistria is not ethnically divided from the rest of Moldova, and there was no population exchange. Second, its economy is already integrated into Moldovan and European markets to a degree that northern Cyprus never was. Third, the external patron is very different. Turkey is a NATO member and an EU candidate, while Russia is at war with Europe and its capacity to support the region is shrinking. The main lesson from Cyprus is actually a warning. Once the divided country entered the Union, leverage over the separatist side declined sharply. Moldova and the EU should therefore use the pre-accession period to make reintegration attractive and concrete, rather than assuming membership will solve it automatically.
8. Reunification and the future
Could Transnistria realistically be reintegrated into Moldova? What would people in the region gain or lose, what would Chișinău need to offer, and what would have to change in Moscow? Over the next five to ten years, what signs of change should readers watch for?
Yes, I believe reintegration is realistic, probably more realistic now than at any point since 1992, but it will not happen by itself. In our research with Marius Ghincea, we argue that Transnistrian statehood rested on four pillars, Russian patronage, the ability to provide public services, a cohesive elite built around Sheriff and the security apparatus, and a distinct identity. The first three are clearly eroding. Russia cannot deliver as before, public services have deteriorated, and the business elite is increasingly oriented towards European markets. Identity is the last pillar still standing, and it is the hardest to change.
For ordinary people, reintegration would bring stable energy, access to EU funds and markets, better pensions and public services, and the rule of law. What they fear losing are cheap utilities, Russian pensions, the predictability of the current system and, for some, a sense of belonging to the Russian world. Chișinău needs to offer guarantees on language, education, property and social payments, a credible transitional justice framework for the elites, and visible benefits before full obligations. In Moscow, what would need to change is the willingness or the ability to keep the region as an instrument. A Russian defeat or a significantly weakened Russia after the war would accelerate everything.
Over the next five to ten years, I would watch a few signals. The first is the terms of any peace settlement in Ukraine and whether they mention Transnistria or Russian troops. The second is the region’s gas supply after the current arrangement expires at the end of 2026. The third is the behaviour of Sheriff and the new leadership in Tiraspol, especially whether they start negotiating their own future with Chișinău. Further signals include the fate of the Cobasna depot, how many people take Russian passports under the new rules, and whether the Convergence Fund and other practical tools actually change daily life on the left bank. Structural decline alone will not deliver reintegration. Moldova and the EU have a real but limited window, and it will take deliberate policy to turn this moment into a lasting solution.
Laurențiu Pleșca is a Bucharest-based program officer at GMF and a political analyst and researcher focusing on EU enlargement, European security, Russian influence in the Black Sea region, Moldova, hybrid threats, and countering disinformation.
The questions were posed by Dr. Dimitar Keranov.