On February 23, 2025, the Chinese Consulate in Russia once again reminded Chinese citizens in Russia to pay attention to Presidential Decree No. 821 issued by Putin. This decree presents Chinese miners in Russia with a very real "either-or" choice: either give up their residency status or enlist in the military. To legally stay and earn rubles, they may first have to go through a conflict zone. The decree is clear: foreign men aged 18 to 65 who wish to apply for a long-term residency permit in Russia must agree to serve in a Russian military unit for at least one year. Once, miners went to Siberia for cheap electricity, but now, before their mining equipment has even recouped its costs, they might be treated as "expendable resources." Now, those gold miners, with their millions of dollars worth of computing power, will they be able to escape unscathed? I. The Vicious Cycle of Compliance: To Be Legal, First Join the Army. Many miners who went to Russia felt they were just passing through, making money across borders, and that the frontline battles had nothing to do with them. But since last year, a network specifically targeting foreign miners has been quietly laid. The first step, "luring the snake out of its hole." Russia officially legalized cryptocurrency mining in 2024, which briefly became a paradise for miners. However, the prerequisite was that individuals or businesses with high electricity consumption must join the official "miner register," fully disclosing their wallet addresses and income. Failure to report would result in hefty fines and equipment confiscation. This tactic forced all miners who wanted to earn a stable income legally to voluntarily hand over their names and details. Once the details were disclosed, the next step followed naturally. The second step, "identity locking." As a foreigner, if you want to legally register for large-scale mining, you must have a Russian long-term residence permit or a registered address within Russia. This is precisely the most dangerous move in the entire scheme. The third step, "hitting the snake's vital spot," came in 2025 when Russian Presidential Decree No. 821 took effect, completely changing the rules for applying for long-term residence permits. You must either submit a Russian military service contract or proof that you are unfit for military service. This move directly impacted a large number of foreign male miners working in Russia—their original hope of obtaining long-term residency by registering as sole proprietors or companies is now blocked. The closed loop is now locked. If you want to mine legally, you need to register with your real name; if you want to register, you need to get a residence permit; if you want a residence permit, you need to be ready to go to the front lines at any time. First, they lure you in with the bait of legality, then they force you to comply with the law with severe penalties, and finally, they use a residence permit to precisely turn you into a potential recruit. You think you're mining Bitcoin with a machine, but in the eyes of the machine in wartime, you are just the "mine". II. The Countdown to Nominee Ownership and "Visa Abduction" Since obtaining long-term residency is risky, is it feasible to "play guerrilla warfare" in the gray area using business visas? The answer is no; this path is being completely blocked. In the past, many miners exploited loopholes by "leaving the country once every 90 days," and even had locals hold mining licenses on their behalf. However, starting in 2025, Russia has taken several drastic measures, targeting individuals, behaviors, and assets one by one. First, immigration controls have been tightened on individuals. The "Register of Controlled Persons," which came into effect in Russia in February 2025, is extremely precise. If a visa issue arises, bank accounts are instantly controlled, with even daily spending subject to very low limits. More importantly, police can detain individuals and initiate deportation proceedings within 48 hours without court approval. Using a business visa to mine is essentially illegal work, and one could easily become the next person to be removed from the program. Furthermore, the legal definition of the act has changed. According to the draft amendment to the Criminal Code in December 2025, illegal mining carries a maximum penalty of five years imprisonment and hefty fines. Previously, it was at most considered a violation; now it's a criminal offense. The gray area's space for survival is being eroded inch by inch by the law. Next comes the targeting of assets. In February 2026, Putin further signed a new law, giving courts the power to directly confiscate mining equipment and Bitcoin involved in cases. Nasdaq-listed The9 once stated that Russia might "nationalize and confiscate the assets of foreign companies under certain circumstances." In Russia, it doesn't matter whose name the machine is registered under; if it's suspected of being illegal, it will be confiscated. Besides, you can't hide it anyway. Since the end of 2024, the Russian power grid has established an integrated air-ground detection network. In the air, thermal imaging drones precisely locate targets; on the ground, AI meters monitor electricity in real time; and at the terminals, intelligent algorithms proactively identify threats. In Dagestan alone, from January to November 2025, 73 cases of illegal electricity mining were uncovered, resulting in losses of 85.7 million rubles. The four avenues—people, actions, assets, and hiding places—have all been blocked. The window for discreetly mining by exploiting visa loopholes is closing.
Third, the state apparatus only wants energy, not computing power
Even if one manages to secure residency and weather the risks of nominee shareholding, there simply isn't enough electricity to mine in Russia.
After China shut down mining in 2021, Siberia, Russia, with its naturally low temperatures and cheap electricity, became a haven for miners worldwide.
BitRiver, Russia's largest mining company, started there, at its peak managing 175,000 mining rigs.
In those years, as long as you had electricity and the guts, money followed.
But the power grid couldn't hold up.
By the end of 2024, cryptocurrency mining had consumed 1.5% of Russia's total electricity, pushing power grids in many areas to the brink of overload. Aging infrastructure needed maintenance, and heating for residents couldn't be interrupted. In Russia's non-natural gas-powered regions, electric heating was the most affordable way to keep warm in winter. Therefore, these "electricity hogs" naturally became the first targets. Starting in 2025, a series of bans were implemented. Several regions in the North Caucasus and Siberia experienced complete power outages or seasonal power rationing, even BitRiver couldn't withstand it. However, what ultimately crushed it wasn't the price of Bitcoin, but the combined blows of legal debt collection, account freezes, and regional power rationing. As for foreign miners without local connections, under the triple strangulation of "identity thresholds (military service contracts + controlled personnel registration) + energy regulations + asset confiscation," they will be the first to be sacrificed. The window of opportunity for rampant growth based on cheap electricity and audacity has closed. Faced with rigid policies, computing power is merely code that can be disconnected at any time. When they withdrew from China in 2021, everyone was betting on the same thing: with the emperor far away, electricity would be enough to survive. Four years later, reality has provided a different answer. You can outrun the regulations of one country, but not the conscription order of another. In the story of the global miners' migration, Russia's chapter is drawing to a close. Those who haven't yet evacuated, and their machinery, have little time left.