While attending the NATO summit last week in Ankara, U.S. President Donald Trump announced his intent to reopen the possibility of selling F-35s to Turkey. But first, to do this, he had to contend with the Countering America’s Adversaries Through Sanctions Act (CAATSA). Turkey was already under CAATSA sanctions for its purchase of Russia’s S-400 air defense system and needed Trump to lift these restrictions if it was to receive the F-35. He decided to do so—and that decision has implications far beyond Turkey.
Passed by the U.S. Congress with overwhelming bipartisan support and signed into law by Trump during his first term in 2017, CAATSA creates what is effectively a secondary sanctions regime. It allows the president to punish foreign governments, companies, banks, and individuals engaging in “significant transactions” with Russia’s defense or intelligence sectors. The U.S. State Department maintains a list of entities in these sectors, including Rosoboronexport, Moscow’s principal state arms exporter. Although the law does not define “significant,” major purchases of Russian missile systems, combat aircraft, and other sophisticated weapons are obvious candidates.
While attending the NATO summit last week in Ankara, U.S. President Donald Trump announced his intent to reopen the possibility of selling F-35s to Turkey. But first, to do this, he had to contend with the Countering America’s Adversaries Through Sanctions Act (CAATSA). Turkey was already under CAATSA sanctions for its purchase of Russia’s S-400 air defense system and needed Trump to lift these restrictions if it was to receive the F-35. He decided to do so—and that decision has implications far beyond Turkey.
Passed by the U.S. Congress with overwhelming bipartisan support and signed into law by Trump during his first term in 2017, CAATSA creates what is effectively a secondary sanctions regime. It allows the president to punish foreign governments, companies, banks, and individuals engaging in “significant transactions” with Russia’s defense or intelligence sectors. The U.S. State Department maintains a list of entities in these sectors, including Rosoboronexport, Moscow’s principal state arms exporter. Although the law does not define “significant,” major purchases of Russian missile systems, combat aircraft, and other sophisticated weapons are obvious candidates.
Once an administration determines that such a transaction has occurred, CAATSA calls for at least five penalties from a menu of options, including U.S. defense export embargoes, asset freezes, and visa restrictions on foreign officials. The target is not necessarily an entire country; Washington can instead sanction the defense ministry, procurement agency, company, or individuals responsible for buying Russian arms. Invoking CAATSA can thus jeopardize a government’s access to U.S. weapons, technology, and financing. Enforcement is not automatic but determined by the executive branch.
The first concrete test came in 2018, when the Trump administration sanctioned China’s Equipment Development Department and its director, Li Shangfu, over the acquisition of Russian Su-35 fighter aircraft and S-400 air defense equipment purchased from Rosoboronexport. Two years later, the administration sanctioned Turkey’s Presidency of Defense Industries (now a secretariat) over Ankara’s S-400 acquisition. Both of these cases demonstrated that CAATSA could directly penalize government organizations responsible for purchasing Russian arms.
Trump’s recent decision to lift CAATSA sanctions on Turkey will have wider consequences for Moscow’s strategic partners across the Indo-Pacific region. This primarily means India, which continues to purchase S-400 units and other Russian arms despite CAATSA. (Although Russia’s arms exports have collapsed since the start of its war against Ukraine, the country is still shipping arms, primarily to its long-standing partners India, China, and Belarus.) To be sure, neither the first Trump administration nor the Biden administration ever formally exempted India from CAATSA. Instead, they both deprioritized CAATSA enforcement in the interest of maintaining a strong strategic partnership with India in hopes that the latter would help the United States counter China.
But India isn’t fully comfortable with its current position. New Delhi erroneously thought that Trump’s return to the White House would usher in a golden era of bilateral relations, especially considering the close relationship Prime Minister Narendra Modi had established with Trump during the latter’s first term. Trump, however, has proved far more capricious this time around, not least by forging closer relations with India’s neighbor and rival Pakistan.
In practice, the second Trump administration has looked the other way on CAATSA enforcement, such as when India received another S-400 regiment last month. For New Delhi, Trump’s decision to lift CAATSA restrictions on Turkey is indeed encouraging. But with Trump, one can never rule out another temper tantrum against India—or for him to simply change his mind about CAATSA enforcement. Following India-Pakistan fighting last year, New Delhi ordered five new S-400 regiments and deepened negotiations over procuring the Su-57, a Russian-built fifth-generation fighter aircraft. Trump could easily home in on these deals in order to coerce India to align with U.S. policies on other topics, such as the reignited U.S.-Iran war or another issue entirely. After all, he already punished India once by levying tariffs for the ostensible reason that the country was importing Russian oil.
In Southeast Asia, two governments must be breathing sighs of relief following Trump’s Turkey decision. One of them is Indonesia. Under President Prabowo Subianto, Jakarta has been pursuing a sweeping military modernization and professionalization drive that has involved diversifying arms imports, including from Russia. In 2018, Jakarta was negotiating the possible purchase of 11 Su-35 fighters, but by 2020, it had nixed the deal. It became clear that Indonesian concern about U.S. punishment under CAATSA was the primary reason.
It would not have been the first time Indonesia has faced the U.S. government’s wrath. During the Clinton administration in 1999, the Indonesian military and pro-Indonesian militias engaged in widespread violence in East Timor, triggering the White House to suspend all military ties and weapons sales. U.S.-Indonesia tensions lingered for years, only ending in 2010 when the Obama administration lifted sanctions on Kopassus, Indonesia’s elite special forces that were implicated in the violence. While Trump’s CAATSA exemption for Turkey should instill some confidence, Jakarta would be wise to remain cautious: Although the Trump administration has shown a willingness to ignore ties to Russia, its policies can change quickly and unpredictably.
Vietnam, too, must be happy about Trump’s CAATSA reversal. Since the Cold War, Hanoi’s military has become heavily dependent first on Soviet and then Russian arms. In recent years, it has sought to build a more diversified defense, including arms purchases from Washington. Some of this diversification away from Russia may have been fueled by CAATSA concerns. Nonetheless, Hanoi has tried to maintain defense procurement from the Kremlin and even devised schemes to circumvent potential CAATSA restrictions: In 2025, The Associated Press reported that Hanoi and Moscow had devised a backdoor payment scheme that would use profits from joint oil and gas ventures to pay off defense contracts, effectively shielding these transactions from the reach of Western financial institutions and their sanctions mechanisms. CAATSA enforcement has evidently been a concern, and Trump’s recent Turkey precedent should provide a sense of relief.
Other countries across the Indo-Pacific that continue to depend on Russian weapons could also face CAATSA exposure. Malaysia, for example, operates Su-30 fighters and other Russian-built systems, while Bangladesh and Sri Lanka field a range of Russian MiG-29 jets, Mi-17 helicopters, armored vehicles, and other equipment. Trump’s decision to back away from imposing CAATSA on Turkey gives these countries even more confidence to continue business as usual with the Kremlin—and, once Russia returns to full export capacity, possibly elevate it.
Then, of course, there are countries that already openly flout CAATSA. Beijing largely absorbed the CAATSA penalties imposed in 2018 and subsequently deepened its strategic and defense relationship with Moscow. North Korea likely finds CAATSA irrelevant to its newfound strategic partnership with Russia, probably because Pyongyang is already heavily sanctioned by other means. The same goes for Myanmar, where the military junta has continued purchasing Russian arms throughout the country’s civil war. Likewise, Laos’s military remains heavily reliant on Soviet- and Russian-origin platforms, with Vientiane showing no intention to shift away from Moscow.
For now, Moscow’s arms exports have fallen sharply as the Kremlin diverts production to the battlefield and some of its weapons factories are struck by Ukrainian drones. Yet by signaling a more permissive approach to CAATSA enforcement, Trump has inadvertently reduced one of the few remaining political obstacles to future Russian arms sales in the Indo-Pacific. Whether Moscow can capitalize on that opening is another question entirely.
CAATSA was intended to force countries to choose between Russian arms and closer security ties with the United States. Trump’s reversal on Turkey suggests that choice may no longer be so stark. Indo-Pacific governments will increasingly conclude that CAATSA is not a fixed rule but a policy tool for applying selective leverage according to Washington’s political priorities. That may release some of the pressure on U.S. allies and partners today, but it also risks weakening one of Washington’s most potent instruments for constraining Russia’s global military relationships.
