
The story of Admiral Kuznetsov is one of high dreams burdened with cruel realities. Originally planned as the jewel of a revived Russian Navy, she currently languishes in limbo, sullied by malfunctions, budgetary issues, and shifting military priorities. Not simply a vessel, Kuznetsov is now an emblem of the larger challenges confronting Russia’s aspirations to project naval influence.

It all began at the end of the Soviet Union. The vessel was laid down in 1982 at the Black Sea Shipyard in present-day Ukraine as part of a Soviet aspiration to equal U.S. naval power. But rather than being a conventional aircraft carrier, it was classified as a “heavy aircraft-carrying cruiser”—a loophole to allow it to legally navigate through the Turkish Straits. Its conception was a combination: fighter aircraft, helicopters, ski-jump ramp, and arrestor wires. A dash of everything, but not enough of anything.

From the beginning, one major issue stood out—its engines. Powered by mazut, a thick, tar-like fuel, the ship constantly belched black smoke wherever it went. Russian officials blamed improper fuel heating, but it was no secret: the propulsion system was outdated and unreliable. Maintenance was never-ending, and the ship’s exhaust became as well-known as its silhouette.

When Kuznetsov officially entered service in 1991, the Soviet Union was collapsing. That left the ship as the sole carrier of the Russian Navy—and a symbol for what remained of a declining superpower. Its most prominent mission was in 2016, during the Russian campaign in Syria. But far from an exhibition of naval power, the deployment focused on the deficiencies of the ship. Engine issues persisted, and two aircraft were lost on account of malfunctioning landing gear. Western fleets even shadowed the ship in case it didn’t make it back. Behind the scenes, water damage and rust contributed to fears that he ship would sink.

In 2018, Kuznetsov entered its long-overdue refit. What ensued was a disaster. A crane crashed onto the deck during dry docking, resulting in major damage. A year later, a fire on board killed two and injured others. That wasn’t the end of it—the PD-50 floating dock, which was crucial to the repairs, sank.

The ship itself needed to be shifted, further slowing down everything else. On top of that, there were corruption scandals around the project. Directors of the shipyards were arrested, and the prices soared. Some experts claimed that repairing the fire damage alone would cost as much as the entire vessel was worth.

Flash forward to 2025, and Kuznetsov had been in port for more than seven years. This ignited a furious debate within Russia’s military establishment. Some senior officers, such as Admiral Sergei Avakyants, came right out and stated that aircraft carriers are obsolete. With contemporary warfare devolving into drones and long-range missiles, he contended, there is no reason to continue pouring money into a relic. Others countered, citing India’s expanding carrier fleets. They viewed Kuznetsov’s failures as a lesson in constructing something better in the future.

The worst timing for the Russian Navy. A new naval doctrine in 2022 would ensure Russia became a global maritime power, but local changes—such as Finland and Sweden integrating into NATO—increased pressure on Russia’s northern and Baltic strategy. Without a carrier, Russia lost an important component of long-range power projection. Throw in sanctions, economic pressure, and the expense of the Ukraine war, and it was apparent: constructing or even completing a new carrier likely was out of the question.

So what comes next? Some experts recommend a change of tack—carrier-capable drones, autonomous ships, or re-tasking aircraft such as the Su-75 “Checkmate” for naval missions. But there are high barriers to success: obsolete shipyards, a loss of top talent from skilled workers, and restrictive access to key components because of sanctions.

For the time being, Admiral Kuznetsov is still tied up in port, and many of its personnel have reportedly been redirected to work ashore. What was once a symbol of optimism for Russia’s maritime future is now a maritime reminder of miscalculations, lost chances, and the dangers of pursuing military prestige without support infrastructure.

Whether this is the beginning of the end for Russia’s carrier ambitions—or the bumpy start to a new era—depends on what happens next. But this much is certain: grand ambitions only have merit when the foundation below them can support them.