Why tensions with the West are driving Russians to get revaccinated

People stand in line for a COVID-19 vaccine in Yerevan, Armenia, July 14, 2021. Armenia is one of just a few countries where Russians can get access to Western vaccines: a critical need for anyone hoping to travel outside Russia, since most countries don't recognize Russia's Sputnik V vaccine.

Vahram Baghdasaryan/PHOTOLURE/AP/File

January 21, 2022

While Russian tourists have always had a multitude of reasons to visit Armenia, a new and unexpected attraction has been drawing them here lately.

Instead of coming to see the natural sights or enjoy the cuisine, globe-trotting Russians are here in increasing numbers to get vaccinated – not for medical reasons, but for bureaucratic ones.

Because of the general lack of recognition of Russia’s Sputnik V COVID-19 vaccine outside Russia’s borders and the unavailability of foreign vaccines within them, Russians who need regular access to the rest of the world are making treks to countries like Armenia to get Western-approved vaccines – and more importantly, their associated paperwork.

Why We Wrote This

The squabbles between Russia and the West over whether to recognize each other’s vaccines are undermining a critical bridge between the two: Russians who travel between East and West.

Far more than an inconvenience, it’s a hurdle that appears less rooted in scientific evidence than in political and diplomatic sparring – and one that could have significant implications at a time of deep and ongoing tensions between Moscow and the West. The Russians who would be cut off from Europe and the United States without such certification represent a critical bridge of communication between the two sides. And a rift between Russia and the West caused by vaccines could magnify an already tense situation.

The vaccinated getting vaccinated

The vast majority of Russians making the trip to Armenia or other vaccine havens like Croatia, Serbia, and Turkey have already gotten vaccinated back home with Russia’s own Sputnik V, which became available last year. But while Sputnik appears to be effective, it’s an international bureaucratic quagmire.

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Only Russia and a few other countries recognize Sputnik, whatever its scientific merits. But foreign vaccines are also, for no good scientific reason, unavailable in Russia. That’s a real problem for the very large numbers of Russians who have family, business, studies, or other connections in the West, and want to travel without facing constant and expensive PCR tests, lengthy quarantines, and, sometimes, inability to even board a plane.

That’s where countries like Armenia come in. Armenia not only admits Russians visa-free and recognizes Sputnik vaccinations, but also provides Russians (and Russian residents, like this correspondent) with access to Western vaccines. Tens of thousands of Russians have already made the trek to vaccine havens, say travel agents. Organized tours that include transportation, accommodation, and a clinic appointment are doing a roaring business.

“Tours to get a European vaccine are tremendously popular right now,” says Ivetta Verdiyan of the BSI Group, a leading travel operator. “A lot of people were used to being able to travel around the world, and when this pandemic hit they found very many countries unavailable for them. If you don’t have an EU or WHO approved vaccination, you can’t go. Or you must isolate for a long time, have to do frequent tests, and can’t get the QR code that enables you even to visit a coffee shop sometimes. The situation can change at any time. So, serious people with travel plans want to make sure they have the right papers, because no one knows when the Russian vaccine will be recognized” in the West, she says.

Maria Podolskaya is a Russian journalist who lives in Britain, but travels often to Moscow to see her mother. She says she endured a gauntlet of obstacles, including mandatory isolation and expensive tests, until she hit upon the obvious solution: She got double-vaccinated, and now has valid documents from both sides.

“I got Pfizer in Britain, and Sputnik-lite in Moscow,” she says. “Now there are very few problems. Basically, I present my QR codes when registering for a flight, and that’s it. I’m good in both places.”

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Andrei Kolesnikov, an analyst with the Carnegie Moscow Center, says it’s a widely shared problem among his colleagues. “We are think-tankers, and we need to travel. We have invitations to attend conferences and other exchanges.” Mr. Kolesnikov is a top expert on Russian politics, and the obstacles he faces in conducting dialogue with his international counterparts can’t be a good thing in these vexed times. “But regulations are different everywhere, and difficult everywhere,” he says.

An “absurd” situation?

The mutual refusal between Russia and the West to recognize each other’s vaccines does not seem to have its roots in scientific judgment on either side. And there seems to be at least some political sniping involved. Russian officials have repeatedly accused the West of blocking Sputnik in an effort to protect Western vaccine-makers’ profit margins.

But Michael Favorov, a former Soviet scientist who immigrated to the U.S. three decades ago, and then worked as an epidemiologist for the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention for 25 years, says that different regulatory systems and perceptions, not bad vaccines, have led to the current problems.

“Sputnik is OK. It’s a good vaccine,” says Mr. Favorov, who is now president of DiaPrep System Inc., a public health consultancy based in Atlanta, Georgia. He says he has studied a lot of Russian data about the uptake of Sputnik over the past year, and is satisfied that the vaccine is at least as effective as most others.

The issue, he says, is that Russian institutes and industry use different standards than Western ones – creating a kind of scientific cultural gap – and discrepancies have appeared in Russian production facilities.

“It’s not about the design of the vaccine, which is fine,” he says. “It’s a matter of regulation and certification, which is different in every country. ... The Russians, of course, say the [refusal to recognize Sputnik in the West] is due to commercial competition. That’s not true. But people take from these problems the conclusion that Sputnik is a bad vaccine. That’s not true either.”

Experts say some progress has been made toward registering outside vaccines in Russia, including a Chinese one and the British-Swedish AstraZeneca. Russia’s Ministry of Health recently said it might start accepting antibody tests from foreign residents and travelers, but not their Western vaccine credentials.

“This is classic Putin-style whataboutism,” says Mr. Kolesnikov. “It’s ‘they don’t recognize our vaccine, and until they do we won’t recognize theirs.’ It’s a big political race.”

Larisa Popovich, a public health expert with the Higher School of Economics in Moscow, says the situation is “absurd,” and it causes unnecessary hardships for many Russians.

“Both sides should have gotten over themselves and found a way to recognize each other’s vaccines a long time ago. We have been trying to find out what is the matter for quite a while. Foreign agencies say it’s about discrepancies in regulatory documentation, while the Russian side says it’s inspired by political and competitive motives.”

According to the Russian Direct Investment Fund, which controls the international rights for Sputnik, the vaccine is now registered in 71 countries and over 100 million people have received it worldwide.

“Probably if the general climate between our countries were better, these problems would have been solved by now. Let’s hope the adults will take over and deal with this,” says Ms. Popovich.

Editor's note: The story has been updated to correct the spelling of Ivetta Verdiyan's surname.