Why Southeast Asian Youth Are Becoming Russian Mercenaries

On January 26, a young Filipino man died in Donetsk, fighting for Russia against Ukraine. John Patrick had received just one week of training, spoke no Russian, and when wounded, was left to die without assistance or evacuation—another odnarazki (disposable) casualty in Russia's meat grinder.

Less than two weeks before Patrick's death, Philippine authorities intercepted two Filipino men at Manila's airport. They'd been recruited through social media with promises of legitimate work in Russia paying ₱100,000 to ₱150,000 ($1,698 to $2,546) monthly—far more than they could earn at home. Immigration officials immediately classified them as trafficking victims, not criminals.

Meanwhile, in Indonesia, former police officer Muhammad Rio and ex-marine Satria Arta Kumbara went viral on TikTok, showcasing their combat footage alongside Russian forces. Rio boasted about joining the Wagner Group and his substantial ruble salary. Unlike Patrick, these men made clear their participation was financially motivated and entirely voluntary.

The Evolution of Russian Recruitment

These cases reveal how Russia's foreign recruitment strategy has evolved. Initially, Yevgeny Prigozhin's Wagner Group cultivated a "mercenary mystique" through social media. Their TikTok videos earned 1 billion views at peak, lionizing battlefield exploits and attracting young men worldwide with promises of glory and money.

But voluntary recruitment couldn't meet demand. What emerged was something more sinister: systematic deception. Employment agencies and social media recruiters began offering legitimate work abroad, only to deploy recruits to the front lines. The interception of two Filipinos just days before Patrick's death, recruited under false employment promises, suggests these networks have extended operations across Southeast Asia.

This isn't isolated to the region. In April 2024, Ukrainian forces captured Chinese nationals fighting for Russia. Interviews revealed they'd been lured by salaries substantially higher than domestic opportunities, only to encounter poor battlefield conditions and inadequate preparation that left many desperate to return home.

China's Foreign Ministry discouraged citizen involvement in armed conflicts, but Russian recruitment ads and combat livestreams from Chinese fighters proliferated on platforms like Douyin. Official messaging proved no match for digital recruitment infrastructure.

Mercenary or Victim?

Media coverage has been loose with terminology, framing these individuals as mercenaries without regard for recruitment context. But legal scholars argue that fighters misled into combat should be classified as victims of servitude and human trafficking under international human rights law.

The distinction is profound. It shapes government diplomatic responses—determining whether they engage in quiet repatriation negotiations or public denunciations and citizenship revocations. Legal frameworks hinge on this categorization. Mercenary activity typically violates domestic law and invites prosecution, while trafficking victims may warrant consular assistance and rehabilitative support.

Ukraine has established Hochu Zhit ("I Want to Live"), a program encouraging foreign fighters to surrender voluntarily in exchange for repatriation assistance. This reflects Kyiv's recognition that many combatants may be deceived into deployment rather than willing soldiers of fortune.

Moscow, meanwhile, displays little inclination to negotiate their release, treating foreign fighters as expendable regardless of whether they enlisted willingly or were coerced.

Divergent Regional Responses

Regional responses have varied dramatically. Indonesia swiftly revoked Rio and Kumbara's citizenship—a clear message about participating in foreign wars without presidential approval. But citizenship revocation only matters if fighters decide to return, and does little to deter wannabe combatants or dismantle recruitment networks.

The Philippines' response stands out. Manila immediately recognized the two intercepted men as trafficking victims rather than criminals, allowing them to receive assistance rather than prosecution. This reflects institutional learning from recent experience repatriating victims from Myanmar scam centers, where Filipinos recruited for legitimate jobs found themselves trapped in exploitative conditions.

Manila's whole-of-government approach to those Myanmar cases—providing psychosocial services, legal aid, and financial assistance instead of punishment—appears to have informed authorities' handling of potential Ukraine-bound victims.

The Broader Pattern

Sadly, Patrick's case likely won't be the last. Another Filipino, 52-year-oldRaymon Santos Gumangan, found work in Russia online in 2024, only to find himself deployed as a rifleman for Russia's airborne division. He's been held as a Ukrainian POW since September 2025.

These cases suggest systematic and deceptive recruitment operations targeting economically vulnerable populations. By late 2024, reports emerged of increasingly nefarious operations: men deceived into combat roles and women duped into forced labor at drone factories under promises of European pathways, only to find themselves assembling weapons destined for the front.

The majority were drawn from Africa, South Asia, and South America—regions where economic precarity could be most easily exploited. Many were pressured to sign documents in Russian they couldn't understand.