About the author(s):
Ara Marcén Naval is a Spanish human rights advocate and policy expert specialising in arms control, international human rights law, and security sector governance. She has over 20 years of experience working at the intersection of conflict, human rights, corruption, and accountability, including senior roles at Amnesty International and Transparency International. Her work focuses on the regulation of arms transfers, anti-corruption in the defence sector, and the legal frameworks governing the use of force. She has advised governments, UN agencies, and civil society organisations, and recently contributed to international efforts to regulate private military and security companies.
This post forms part of the Wagner Symposium hosted by the Armed Groups and International Law blog. The introductory post can be found here. The symposium seeks to foster deeper discussion on how best to address the Wagner Group and its affiliated entities.
Introduction
From the gold mines of Sudan to the battlefields of Ukraine, the Wagner Group has become a symbol of the new face of warfare, a hybrid actor, unaccountable and ever-adaptable, thriving in the shadows of conflict. Wagner has long established itself as a fighting force, it is now also understood as a facilitator of transnational arms flows. Its operations are sustained by opaque networks that exploit forged documentation, permissive enforcement environments, and transactional alliances with state and non-state actors.
At the heart of Wagner’s operations lies a dangerous shift in global security governance, one where legal norms are strategically bypassed with plausible deniability. Violence is outsourced to private actors, and the fingerprints of atrocity are deliberately smudged. If left unchecked, this model may become the blueprint for future wars: unaccountable violence backed by state power, concealed behind commercial proxies and arms dealers operating in the shadows.
This blog examines Wagner’s role in arms trafficking in Ukraine, Mali and Sudan. It explores how gaps in international law and enforcement are not accidental, but engineered, exploited by actors like Wagner who thrive in legal ambiguity. It argues that preventing the spread of this model requires coordinated legal action, sustained political pressure, and stronger regulation of arms flows. While Wagner’s weapons may appear untraceable, they leave behind a trail of civilian harm and war crimes. And those who enable that violence, through supply, finance, or silence, must also be held accountable.
Mali: diversion, massacres, and denial
Mali’s shift from international counterterrorism partner to Wagner client marked a turning point in Sahelian security governance. Following the 2021 coup and the withdrawal of French and UN Peacekeeping forces, Mali’s military junta brought Wagner into the country under obscure terms. Their deployment altered not only the operational dynamics of the conflict, but also introduced a parallel economy of arms trafficking, impunity, and repression.
In 2023, the U.S. State Department alleged that Wagner was procuring foreign military equipment and routing it through Mali to circumvent international sanctions targeting Russia’s war in Ukraine. One tactic involved the use of falsified end-user certificates, a classic diversion method explicitly prohibited under the Arms Trade Treaty, to which Mali is a State Party.
Wagner’s presence in Mali has also been tied to serious violations of international humanitarian law and human rights law. In March 2022, Malian forces and Wagner personnel allegedly executed over 500 civilians in the town of Moura. According to a report by the UN Independent Expert on the situation of human rights in Mali, victims were subjected to arbitrary detention, torture, and summary executions. The government denied responsibility and refused to investigate.
From a legal perspective, the deliberate targeting of civilians constitutes a war crime under IHL. Those who facilitate such acts, by supplying arms, air support, or operational planning, may be complicit if they knew abuse was likely. Under the Articles on State Responsibility, a State may be liable for acts committed by non-state actors when they act under its direction or control (Art. 8). Yet in practice, weak governance, blurred command chains, and corrupt networks create legal ambiguity and shield accountability.
These dynamics not only flout Mali’s obligations under the Arms Trade Treaty and Common Article 1 of the Geneva Conventions, but they also foster a broader pattern of impunity. By outsourcing violence to Wagner, Mali’s junta has insulated itself from international scrutiny, while contributing to the destabilization of the broader region.
Sudan: Guns-for-Gold and regional smuggling
In Sudan, Wagner’s involvement illustrates how arms trafficking intersects with resource exploitation, foreign influence, and entrenched impunity.
Wagner first entered in Sudan around 2017, under former dictator Omar al-Bashir. In exchange for access to Sudan’s lucrative gold mines (notably through the Prigozhin-linked company Meroe Gold), Wagner provided military training, propaganda support, and weapons? to the regime. Even after Bashir’s fall in 2019, Wagner maintained close ties with Sudan’s security apparatus.
Investigations reveal a “guns for gold” scheme in which Wagner helped Sudan’s military junta smuggle billions of dollars in gold out of the country, via shell companies, in exchange for weapons and mercenaries used to crack down on pro-democracy protesters. This trade helped Russia offset the impact of sanctions, while bolstering Sudan’s authoritarian elites.
The eruption of full-scale conflict in April 2023 between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) cast renewed light on Wagner’s role in arms transfers. Wagner reportedly supported the RSF with supplies of weapons including man-portable air defence systems (MANPADS), anti-aircraft guns, and heavy vehicles. In September 2023, over 100 Wagner-linked vehicles were reportedly transporting weapons across the Chad–Sudan border to RSF-controlled areas. In January 2024, a convoy of military equipment intended for the RSF was intercepted near the border. This influx of firepower, including surface-to air missiles that neutralized SAF’s airstrikes, bolstered the RSF’s battlefield. Empowered by this support, RSF leader Mohamed “Hemedti” Dagalo pursued total military victory, derailing efforts at democratic transition.
The humanitarian consequences have been catastrophic. Over 150,000 people and displaced over 14 million, making Sudan the world’s worst internal displacement crisis. Wagner’s arms transfers not only escalated the conflict but shattered any prospect of political compromise.
The “guns-for-gold” model violates the UN Firearms Protocol, which prohibits cross-border transfers of firearms without proper state authorisation, traceability, and record-keeping. More broadly, it threatens regional peace and sets a dangerous precedent in fragile contexts where natural resources and authoritarianism collide.
Ukraine: proxy violence and global procurement
Wagner’s deployment in Ukraine during Russia’s full-scale invasion (2022–2023) marked a new level of scale, brutality, and legal complexity. At the height of the Battle of Bakhmut, an estimated 50,000 Wagner fighters, many of them convicts recruited from Russian prisons, fought alongside regular Russian forces. These units were armed with tanks, heavy artillery, armoured vehicles, and small arms identical to those used by the Russian military. Much of Wagner’s arsenal was provided directly by the Russian state, which also provided over $1 billion in state funding between May 2022 and May 2023. Wagner’s access to advanced weaponry such as T-90M tanks and military infrastructure, including airbases, further underscore its operational integration into Russia’s war machinery.
From a legal perspective, Wagner’s role in Ukraine blurs the line between private military contractor and de facto state actor. Given its dependence on the Russian Ministry of Defence, Wagner likely qualify as an organ or agent of the Russian state for the purposes of international law. If so, Russia bears responsibility for Wagner’s conduct under the law of state responsibility and IHL. Even if Wagner is viewed as a non-state actor, its members remain bound by IHL, including Common Article 3 of the Geneva Conventions and relevant customary norms.
Wagner forces in Ukraine have been credibly accused of grave violations of IHL. These include summary executions, indiscriminate shelling of civilian areas, and the use of banned weapons. One video showing the execution of a deserter with a sledgehammer starkly illustrated the group’s disregard for humanitarian law.
Facing supply constraints, Wagner also turned to illicit global procurement. In late 2022, U.S. intelligence reported that Wagner had procured rockets and missiles from North Korea, an illicit transaction that violated multiple UN Security Council resolutions banning North Korean arms exports.
These arms transfers implicate multiple legal regimes. Any individuals or companies involved in brokering, transporting, or facilitating the North Korean shipment may have violated international sanctions, domestic export laws, and the UN Firearms Protocol, which criminalises cross-border arms transfers without state authorisation. If these weapons were used in war crimes, those facilitating their shipment may be liable under international criminal law for aiding and abetting such crimes.
By outsourcing violence to Wagner, Russia gained plausible deniability while maintaining control. This hybrid warfare model frustrates traditional IHL frameworks, which rely on clearer divisions between state and non-state actors. It also highlights the limits of arms control norms in contexts where the transferring and receiving parties are the same state, or where actors operate clandestinely outside regulatory structures.
Impunity is a strategic choice, so is accountability
The Wagner Group’s operations cut across the boundaries of international law: from arms control and humanitarian law to state responsibility and corporate liability. While the international legal toolbox is well-stocked, enforcement remains fragmented and underused.
The Arms Trade Treaty prohibits transfers when weapons are likely to be used in war crimes (Art. 6) or when there is an overriding risk of serious IHL or human rights violations (Art. 7). The UN Firearms Protocol adds layers of protection, requiring verification of import and transit authorisations (Art. 10), firearm marking (Art. 8), and record-keeping (Art. 13). These safeguards are designed to detect forged end-user certificates and illicit diversions, tactics Wagner has routinely exploited.
Wagner’s operations also implicate state responsibility. Under Common Article 1 of the Geneva Conventions, states must ensure respect for IHL, including by halting arms transfers likely to fuel violations. Where private actors operate under a state’s direction or control, as Wagner often does for Russia, the state may be legally responsible for their conduct.
Wagner thrives in legal grey zones. As a nominally private entity with covert state backing, it exploits the gaps between mercenary law, state attribution, and enforcement. The 1989 UN Mercenary Convention has limited utility, Russia is not a party, and Wagner operatives often fall outside the narrow definition of “mercenary.” Host states like Mali and Sudan frequently deny Wagner’s presence, shielding the group from scrutiny. Russia, meanwhile, maintains plausible deniability while enabling Wagner’s access to arms and logistics.
But Wagner’s network of impunity is not sustained by states alone. Arms manufacturers, brokers, financiers, and shipping firms also enable this system, supplying weapons, arranging logistics, or financing deals through opaque structures. For many, the profits outweigh the risks. Regulatory enforcement is weak, especially in jurisdictions with limited oversight or political will.
This web of enablers contributes to global insecurity. Surplus weapons from Wagner-linked operations in Ukraine, Sudan or Mali can easily flow into regional conflicts or criminal markets. The fallout of impunity is rarely contained.
Legal precedents from the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (Prosecutor v. Tihomir Blaškic aiding and abetting includes acts of assistance, encouragement, or moral support that have a substantial effect on the commission of the crime; Prosecutor v. Vasiljevic, affirming that even non-physical acts may constitute aiding and abetting if they have a substantial effect and are committed with the requisite mens rea) and International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda both found that individuals and entities who knowingly contributed to crimes, whether through arms, logistics, or approval, could be convicted of aiding and abetting. The ICTR Trial Chamber made a direct connection between the supply of weapons and the crime of genocide, holding that an individual can be complicit in genocide “by procuring means, such as weapons, instruments or any other means, used to commit genocide, with the accomplice knowing that such means would be used for such a purpose.”
Yet few prosecutions of arms traffickers have followed.
The International Criminal Court has jurisdiction over war crimes in Ukraine and Mali, but arms trafficking has not been prioritised. Universal jurisdiction could fill the gap, but political sensitivities and lack of access often prevent progress.
Sanctions imposed by the European Union, United Kingdom, and United States have targeted Wagner figures, but remain fragmented and reactive. They have done little to dismantle the broader enabling ecosystem.
Accountability is not just a legal obligation, it is a strategic deterrent. Allowing Wagner and its enablers to operate without consequence invites replication. A recent Council of Europe Resolution has urged the UN Human Rights Council to establish an independent international commission of inquiry into Wagner’s abuses across Ukraine and Africa is a welcome step, but much more is needed.
Dismantling Wagner’s network requires coordinated legal action, international cooperation, and political will. Because while Wagner’s weapons may seem untraceable, they leave behind a trail of devastation. And those who supply, facilitate, and profit from them must no longer walk free.