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Welcome to ICoCA’s podcast series, Future Security Trends: Implications for Human Rights. Today, we are excited to have with us Dr. Alessandro Arduino, an affiliate lecturer at the Lau China Institute at King’s College London and a trusted advisor to ICoCA. Dr. Arduino is a renowned expert on security dynamics linked to China’s Belt & Road Initiative. He is known for his work on the evolving role of private military companie and emerging technologies in conflict settings.

In this episode, Dr. Arduino discusses his latest book, Money for Mayhem: Mercenaries, Private Military Companies, Drones, and the Future of War, where he explores how profit-driven PMCs are reshaping modern warfare, managing rather than resolving conflicts. Through firsthand accounts and field research, he traces the rise of PMCs from Russia, China and the Middle East, highlighting the implications of their growing influence on the future of conflict.

Join us as we explore the ethical and strategic implications of outsourcing security, how does it impact human rights and international security, and what the future may hold for military practices worldwide.


What inspired you to write your book, Money For Mayhem ?

The book took a while to complete because the landscape of mercenaries, private military and security was changing very rapidly. In the book, Yevgeny Prigozhin—essentially the CEO of the Wagner Group—is still alive. With the recent plane crash, there’s been a lot of discussion and focus on Wagner, as well as on the broader world of private military companies and mercenaries. This has brought considerable attention during the publication.  

When I began my research, Russian mercenaries and PMCs were already part of the conversation. The book explores trends in the private military sector and the mercenary industry, looking at historical references, such as the evolution of mercenaries in Africa and considering what this could mean for the future of warfare. Specifically, I examine the implications of heavily armed private military and mercenary groups that will use drones and cyber capabilities. 

My background in this sector began somewhat unexpectedly, through my work in China. I’ve been based there for over 20 years. When the Belt and Road Initiative, President Xi Jinping’s flagship international relations project, was launched, I had one key question in mind: Would China’s private security sector evolve similarly to the American one, transitioning into private military companies? Would China develop something like Blackwater? Now, more than 10 years later, I’m asking whether China will have its own Wagner Group. 

This is one of the main focus of the book. It’s an ongoing discussion, as new actors—local mercenary groups, international private military companies and groups with Islamist affiliations, such as Turkey’s Sadat—continue to emerge. The central question the book raises is how PMCs and mercenaries will shape the future of warfare, and ultimately, the future of global security and peace. 

You’re mentioning different trends surrounding the rise of private security and military actors, and your book also examines the shifting nature of the privatization of the monopoly of violence. Could you tell us more about the history of this phenomenon? 

The privatization of the state’s monopoly on violence is nothing new. Especially after the First and Second World Wars, military theorists and security analysts have focused more on the State’s role in conflicts that are relatively short compared to those in the past, where wars could last 20, 30, or even 100 years. It’s not by chance that mercenary work is often referred to as the second-oldest profession in the world. There’s a long historical trend of States—and even before the modern State, kingdoms, empires, and princes—privatizing the monopoly of force or violence, relying on private security, private military forces, and what we traditionally call mercenaries throughout history. 

If we look at more recent times, the trend is linked to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. In these conflicts, the United States privatized the monopoly of force, turning to the private sector because it was seen as more efficient and effective. But now we are seeing new actors—not just Russia and China, but also, as I mentioned earlier, Turkey—who are approaching privatization from a different angle. These states may not prioritize efficiency, but instead use private actors closely connected to the state, giving them what I believe is one of the most important aspects of this privatization: plausible deniability. 

So how has this evolved after Iraq and Afghanistan, if you could get into details ?

In Iraq and Afghanistan, the main debate at the time was whether the private sector was more efficient than the State. From a Western, and particularly a U.S. perspective, the answer was often “yes”—  PMCs were seen as more efficient and effective. However, incidents like the Nisour Square massacre in Iraq, where contractors from the U.S. PMC Blackwater opened fire and killed several civilians, shifted the focus to ethical questions about transparency and accountability. 

These concerns are still relevant today—not just for Western countries, but for any nation that contracts these companies. How can they ensure these firms operate ethically and responsibly? How do they avoid violence against local populations, gender-based violence, or even fostering insecurity and impunity? These are ongoing discussions that have persisted since the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan. Despite the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan after 19 years of war, these issues are far from resolved. 

In the West, there is still debate about whether PMCs are more efficient than regular armies. But in my opinion—and this is a key focus of my book—it’s not just about PMCs boosting a country’s warfighting capacity. The more critical question is how to ensure they are accountable and transparent to both international and local stakeholders. 

Looking ahead, we will see different trends. Even the U.S. Army, according to reports from the Government Accountability Office (GAO), has pointed out that PMCs have not always been economically efficient. But, as I explore in my book, the larger issue is not just accountability, but also how to distinguish between mercenaries, PMCs and private security firms. It’s a complex topic, and the book doesn’t offer a straightforward answer because it exists in a gray area. 

In essence, private security firms usually take on passive roles, like protecting people, equipment, and infrastructure. PMCs, on the other hand, augment state forces—not just in combat, but also through tasks like maintaining weapons platforms and providing logistics. Mercenaries, by contrast, are often directly involved in active combat, the “tip of the spear” in warfare. While these distinctions seem clear, the lines between them often blur. 

This blurring can result from legal ambiguities. What kind of law governs these companies—international law, local law or national law? If local laws are functioning well, there’s less need for mercenaries. However, the real challenge is how to enforce these laws. That’s one of the key open questions that the book continues to explore. 

In your book, you discuss this new breed of mercenaries and quasi-private military companies acting as state proxies. Could you elaborate on how Chinese, Russian and Turkish private security and military actors are setting a precedent for emerging trends in the industry ?

The book explores the shift from the Western model, often associated with Blackwater, to new actors in the field. 

Starting with China, I was particularly interested in how Chinese security experts and commentators view the evolution of their private security sector. It’s important to note that we are mainly looking at private security, not private military or mercenaries, tasked with protecting Chinese interests abroad—such as personnel and infrastructure related to the Belt and Road Initiative. It’s a complex challenge because, although China has over 10,000 private security firms, fewer than 20 are equipped to operate effectively in high-risk, complex environments. To date, there are fewer than 60 Chinese-registered private security companies operating abroad, and only around 20 provide services in such environments. 

The key difference between these firms and other players is that Chinese security companies are typically unarmed. They mostly function as security managers, acting as intermediaries between Chinese workers in secure compounds and local armed militias or international contractors hired to provide armed protection. In this way, China is trying to adhere to its long-standing non-interference policy, avoiding the use of the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) or the People’s Armed Police in foreign security operations. Instead, private security companies fill the gap when security issues arise. 

However, as the Belt and Road Initiative crosses regions from Pakistan to Africa, it intersects with various actors—including terrorists and other geopolitical interests, particularly Russia in Africa. Chinese private security firms, with their passive role, sometimes clash with local security needs in these volatile regions. 

Moving to Russia, the Wagner Group represents a different model. Wagner began as mercenaries providing plausible deniability for the Russian state. I remember when the government of Mali invited Wagner, referring to them as a PMC, and Wagner itself uses this term. However, Wagner is not a typical PMC; it’s a quasi-private military entity. It’s not formally incorporated, and its mercenary activities are closely tied to the Russian state. 

Wagner first gained prominence in Syria, where it demonstrated how its “toolbox” could benefit Russia. By this, I mean Wagner provided plausible deniability, efficient boots on the ground, and operated with minimal logistical costs. They also helped generate funding, by tapping into local resources like oil fields in Syria and natural resources such as diamonds and gold in Mali. This dual role—both military and economic—has allowed Wagner to support Russian operations while helping Russia bypass some international sanctions. 

What sets Wagner apart, and what makes it different from the Chinese model, is that Wagner thrives in chaos. Historically, mercenaries have profited from instability. The more violence and uncertainty, the more they benefit. If they lose a battle, they lose their lives. But in times of peace, they also lose their jobs, as they’re no longer needed. For example, in Africa, where Wagner has a strong presence across West Africa and the Sahel, they need to maintain high levels of violence and instability to continue profiting. This approach is the complete opposite of Chinese private security, which seeks stability for economic growth. 

Lastly, Turkey offers yet another distinct model. Turkey’s use of private military actors, particularly in regions like Libya and Nagorno-Karabakh, serves to advance state interests. A key player here is Sadat, a private military company briefly mentioned in the book. Sadat openly promotes Turkey’s neo-Ottoman vision, especially that of President Erdogan. It provides advanced military training to Islamic countries, marking a departure from the models of both Russia and China. 

In my view, Turkey’s approach is an important trend to watch if we want to understand how the global security architecture is shifting. We are moving from a unipolar world, where the U.S. acted as a global sheriff, to a multipolar one, with regional powers exerting influence in high-risk areas like the Middle East, Africa, Central Asia, Afghanistan, and Pakistan. 

If these companies usually thrive in chaos, could you provide an example from your book that illustrates the impact of PMCs and PSCs in a specific conflict zone or region?  

One example from the book highlights the contrast between China and Russia in Africa, particularly in the Sahel region. While China and Russia publicly maintain what they call an “unlimited friendship”—often showcased during meetings between Presidents Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin—their interests on the ground can conflict. In Central Asia, for instance, the two countries have managed to strike a balance, with China focusing on economic influence and Russia providing security without too much overlap. However, Africa, especially the Sahel region, presents a different story where both nations are keen on exploiting local mineral resources, which has led to some friction. 

A case in point is the Central African Republic (CAR). In one incident, nine Chinese miners were killed near the capital, Bangui. The rebels in the CAR accused the Wagner Group, a Russian mercenary group, of being responsible for the attack. Interestingly, just weeks later, Wagner posted online, claiming they had helped free Chinese miners from local rebel groups. This incident highlights the tension between Chinese and Russian operations in the region. 

The Wagner Group thrives in chaos. For them, maintaining instability is essential to justifying their presence—they are hired to quell the very unrest they benefit from. On the other hand, Chinese private security firms need stability to protect their investments and ensure economic growth. Unlike Wagner, they do not currently have the capability, nor the inclination, to provide heavily armed security services. They operate more passively, focusing on safeguarding Chinese personnel and assets in foreign countries. 

This difference in approach is not only evident in the Central African Republic but also in other African regions such as Mali, Niger, Chad, and Cameroon, and even in countries like Tanzania, Kenya, and Ethiopia. In all these areas, Chinese interests are expanding, but so are Russian ones, often through actors like Wagner. As a result, these two fundamentally different approaches to security—Wagner’s chaos-driven mercenary model versus China’s stability-seeking private security—are bound to collide, creating further friction as both nations vie for influence in these high-stakes regions. 

Looking now at current and future trends, could you tell us more about the market for unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs), and what implications there are for both military and private security companies? 

When looking at the market for UAVs, commonly known as combat drones, many assume that the United States dominates the field due to its technological advancements with drones like the Reaper. However, this isn’t entirely the case if we examine the global market landscape. 

While the U.S. may have the most advanced and sought-after drones—comparable to the “Rolls-Royce” of UAVs—there are significant barriers, primarily cost and strict export controls. U.S. drones are not only incredibly expensive, but the U.S. is also highly selective about which countries can acquire them. This has created an opening for other nations, especially Turkey and China, to step into the market. 

China, for instance, has taken advantage of these restrictions by offering more affordable drones with fewer regulatory hurdles. Even wealthier nations like Saudi Arabia, who couldn’t secure U.S. drones, have turned to Chinese drones as leverage, essentially using them as bargaining chips to pressure the U.S. into selling more advanced models. 

Turkey, on the other hand, has also made significant strides with its Bayraktar drones, which gained global attention during the Nagorno-Karabakh war. Turkish drones became highly desirable, and according to President Erdogan, foreign leaders began requesting them on his visits abroad. As a result, we now see competition between Turkey and China for dominance in the drone market, particularly in regions like Africa and Central Asia, where many countries are eager to acquire affordable and effective military technology for battlefield use. 

This competition has broader implications for the private sector as well. In my view, private companies, especially in the security field, are increasingly offering drone-related capabilities. For example, Chinese private security firms, both domestically and internationally, are promoting counter-drone services. These services, which include electronic jammers that disable drones by cutting off their signals, are being used to protect VIPs, convoys and fixed locations from drone threats. This is a trend that is already seeing practical applications, especially as we see attacks involving homemade or Iranian-supplied drones targeting maritime routes. Chinese firms are pushing hard to provide these countermeasures as part of their service offerings. 

What significant changes do you foresee in the future of private military and security operations, particularly with the rise of new technologies and geopolitical dynamics? 

There are two key trends shaping the future of private military and security operations. The first involves a fundamental shift in the global security architecture. As I mentioned earlier, the United States is stepping back from its role as the “world’s sheriff” and returning to a posture more akin to its pre-World War I stance, where it acted as an offshore balancer. In this new role, the U.S. will intervene abroad only when its direct interests are at stake, with a much lighter footprint—something we’re already seeing in places like Africa and the Middle East. 

This creates more room for regional players to step in, along with an increasing role for PMCs, PSCs and mercenary groups. In the future, technology will play an even bigger role in these industries. Drones are certainly part of the equation, but the transition into cyberspace is perhaps even more significant. Many private security and military companies are now expanding their services into cyber operations, offering protection from ransomware and other digital threats, much like they have historically offered protection from physical threats such as kidnapping. 

Some companies are already adapting to this shift. For instance, Chinese private security firms are leveraging their expertise in areas like crowd control and AI-driven facial recognition, which are integral to their services. These firms are expanding their cybersecurity offerings, especially in regions like the Middle East and Africa, where local governments lack the technological capabilities but can acquire them through Chinese-backed loans. 

In summary, the rise of artificial intelligence, drones, and cyberspace operations will have profound implications for PMCs and PSCs. These companies will not only operate in the digital realm but will also continue to have tangible effects in real-world settings, offering a blend of online and on-the-ground services. 

How can organizations like ICoCA contribute to regulating and overseeing private military and security companies now and in the future? 

Regulation is crucial for these industries, and organizations like ICoCA are key in providing guidelines, transparency and accountability. With support from like-minded countries and companies, ICoCA helps ensure that these companies provide security for their clients while also fostering stable and sustainable environments for local communities. 

However, achieving this balance is challenging. For instance, if we look at the broader geopolitical picture, U.S. competition with China has intensified, and diplomatic channels have narrowed, especially between the People’s Liberation Army PLA and the U.S. military. Yet, in the private security sector, Chinese companies are still interested in maintaining open lines of communication with the West, and ICoCA remains one of the few platforms where such dialogue can occur. 

We thank Dr. Alessandro Arduino for sharing insights from his book Money for Mayhem: Mercenaries, Private Military Companies, Drones, and the Future of War.  As highlighted in our discussion, ICoCA serves as a vital bridge among various stakeholders, promoting dialogue and cooperation to ensure accountability and respect for human rights in the private security sector. Stay tuned for more interviews as we continue to explore the complex challenges and opportunities within the realm of security and human rights.

 

The views and opinions presented in this article belong solely to the author(s) and do not necessarily represent the stance of the International Code of Conduct Association (ICoCA).