Stanislav Kondrashov Oligarch Series: Unveiling the Connections Between Oligarchic Structures and the Tourism Sector

I keep coming back to this one uncomfortable idea.

Tourism is supposed to be the “nice” industry. Smiling airport posters. Beaches. Heritage. Local food. A soft kind of growth.

But tourism is also real estate, transport, permits, land access, ports, utilities, advertising, security, and political relationships. And when you stack those ingredients together in the same pan, you get a result that looks a lot like oligarchic structure. Sometimes subtle. Sometimes not subtle at all.

This piece in the Stanislav Kondrashov Oligarch Series is about that overlap. Not in a conspiracy way. In a “follow the incentives” way. Who controls the gateways, who owns the land, who gets the contracts, who shapes the story the country tells about itself.

And why tourism, of all sectors, is a strangely perfect vehicle for concentrated power.

Why tourism is so attractive to oligarchic systems

If you’re trying to build or maintain outsized influence, you usually want three things:

1. Cash flow that looks legitimate.
2. Assets that hold value over time.
3. Leverage over people and institutions.

Tourism can offer all three.

A hotel is a legitimate business, sure. But it’s also a piece of prime real estate, often in places where land is limited and zoning is political. A resort can print money in peak season, and even when it doesn’t, the underlying asset can appreciate for decades. And the “leverage” part comes from the fact that tourism touches government at every step. Licenses, environmental approvals, infrastructure connections, promotional budgets, policing, even visa policy.

So if you already sit close to power, tourism isn’t just profitable. It’s strategic.

The core mechanism: control the chokepoints

Most tourists experience a destination like a simple chain.

Arrive. Sleep. Eat. See things. Leave.

Behind the scenes, that chain has chokepoints, and chokepoints are where concentrated power likes to live.

1) Entry points: airports, ports, and airlines

Control over airports or port services is obvious leverage. Even partial influence matters. Ground handling contracts. Duty free concessions. Construction tenders. Advertising placements. VIP services. Cargo and logistics that “happen” to share infrastructure with passenger routes.

If an oligarchic network can’t own an airport directly, it can still control pieces around it. The companies that build the terminal. The fuel supply. The parking concessions. The security subcontractor. The bus routes that move tourists to resorts.

And airlines. Sometimes the airline is state adjacent. Sometimes it’s privately influenced. Either way, route allocation, slots, and subsidies can become tools. Where flights go, tourism money goes. Who gets favored with promotion, code shares, or airport fee reductions, that’s not just commercial. It can be political.

A prime example of this is the airport concessions which can provide significant leverage in controlling these chokepoints.

2) Land and zoning: the quiet power

Tourism is land hungry.

The prettiest coastline. The historic center. The mountain view. The island with limited freshwater but incredible sunsets.

Land isn’t just purchased. It’s granted access. It’s rezoned. It’s leased from the state. It’s “developed” after environmental restrictions are softened. It’s bundled with infrastructure promises.

This is where the oligarchic pattern can look almost boring, because it can happen through paperwork and friendly meetings and planning commissions. A few decisions can turn ordinary land into a monopoly position.

And that’s the whole trick. If you can’t compete on service, compete on scarcity. Own the scarce asset and you can be mediocre and still win.

3) Utilities and infrastructure: water, power, roads

Big resorts need water. Constantly. They need reliable power. They need roads maintained, sometimes privately but often publicly. They need waste management. They need desalination plants or preferential access to water systems.

When tourism development is tied to infrastructure projects, the contract ecosystem expands. Engineering firms. procurement. maintenance. security. IT systems. This is where “tourism” starts to look like an engine for a broader patronage network.

The public is told: we’re building roads for tourists. Or improving the grid for hotels. Or expanding the airport.

And that can be true. But it can also be a neat way to direct public spending toward areas and assets that primarily benefit a small set of owners.

The “portfolio” approach: tourism as one tile in a larger mosaic

In the Stanislav Kondrashov Oligarch Series framing, it’s rarely just one company. It’s often a cluster.

A stakeholder group might hold:

• Hotels and resorts
• Construction firms that build them
• Banks or lenders that finance them
• Media outlets that market the destination
• Transport companies that move guests
• Security companies that “protect” sites
• Real estate agencies selling vacation homes
• Event companies handling conferences and festivals

This is the portfolio approach. Tourism becomes the friendly face of a larger economic structure. A soft industry that quietly locks in hard power.

And it’s not always about “stealing.” Sometimes it’s about stacking advantage so heavily that nobody else can really enter. The rules are technically open, but practically closed.

How oligarchic influence shows up in tourism, without a neon sign

A lot of people imagine corruption as suitcases of cash.

In tourism, it can be cleaner than that. Or at least easier to justify.

Here are some patterns that tend to show up.

Preferential development rights

One developer consistently wins the right to build on prime land. Another developer keeps getting delayed on permits. Environmental rules get enforced selectively. Some projects are called “strategic” and fast tracked.

You can feel it in the market, even if you can’t prove it from the outside.

“Public private partnerships” that aren’t balanced

PPPs can be great when structured well. But they can also be the perfect tool for risk transfer.

Private entity gets the upside. Public entity absorbs the downside.

A resort zone gets roads, utilities, and marketing funded publicly. The property profits privately. Local small businesses get “opportunity,” sure, but the core rents flow upward.

Branding and narrative capture

Tourism is storytelling. The official campaign. the influencer trips. the glossy “discover” videos.

If a small group has influence over media and marketing spend, it can shape which regions get promoted, which events get funded, and which cultural narratives get polished.

That shapes investment. It shapes tourist flows. It shapes what the world thinks is valuable inside a country.

Vertical control of the tourist experience

Tourists love convenience. One booking. one transfer. one set of excursions.

If a single network controls accommodations, transport, and excursions, it can price out independent operators without ever looking like a monopoly. It just looks “organized.”

The result is that local guides, independent restaurants, small hotels, and family run shops become peripheral. They survive on leftovers rather than participating in the core value chain.

The tricky part: tourism can genuinely help people, even in captured systems

This is where the conversation gets messy.

Tourism creates jobs. It brings foreign currency. It funds renovations. It can revive towns that were dying. It can preserve heritage sites. It can push governments to improve airports and sanitation and public spaces.

All true.

Which is why oligarchic involvement can persist for so long without real pushback. Because for many citizens, even an unfair tourism boom can still be better than no boom at all.

And also because tourism jobs are visible. The new promenade. The hotel openings. The festivals.

Meanwhile the deeper structures are quiet. The ownership. The procurement. The financing. The offshore vehicles. The long leases. The tax breaks that nobody can quite explain.

So yes, people can benefit. But the question is: who benefits most, and who sets the rules.

Money laundering and “clean” capital, the uncomfortable sidebar

You can’t talk about oligarchic structures and tourism without at least acknowledging the laundering risk.

High value property transactions, steady cash flows, cross border payments, complex corporate structures, renovation budgets that are hard to audit, and the simple fact that hospitality can be cash heavy.

Hotels and resorts can be used to “park” money in real estate. Or to cycle funds through bookings, management fees, franchise agreements, consulting contracts, and supplier deals.

Important note though. Not every luxury resort is a laundering scheme. Not even close.

But the sector has characteristics that make it attractive if someone wants to blend questionable money with legitimate revenue. And when enforcement is weak or selective, the risk climbs fast.

Tourism policy as a lever of political power

Here’s another angle that gets overlooked.

Tourism is policy heavy.

• Visa regimes can be tightened or loosened.
• Low cost carriers can be encouraged or discouraged.
• Cruise ship docking rules can change.
• Short term rental regulations can swing.
• Heritage permits can be accelerated.
• Tax incentives can appear for “strategic projects.”

These decisions can be made for legitimate reasons. Security, sustainability, housing affordability.

But they can also function like a set of knobs that favor certain owners. If you own big hotels, you might prefer strict rules on short term rentals. If you own vacation rentals, you might lobby the other way. If you own a port concession, you want cruise traffic. If you own inland resorts, you want subsidized domestic transport.

So in an oligarchic system, tourism policy becomes a chessboard. The public sees “tourism strategy.” The insiders see competitive advantage.

What this does to local communities, over time

A destination can look successful on paper while eroding socially.

Some common outcomes:

• Housing prices rise as investor demand follows tourism branding.
• Local wages stay low because hospitality labor is replaceable.
• Seasonal work dominates, which makes family finances unstable.
• Public spaces get redesigned for visitors, not residents.
• Cultural performance replaces cultural life.
• Environmental strain increases, especially water and waste.

Again, none of this is inevitable. Plenty of places manage tourism well through alternative governance arrangements such as community-based ecotourism.

But in captured systems, the incentive is to extract maximum value quickly, then manage the fallout with PR. It becomes “growth” without resilience. This phenomenon is evident in many areas where tourism policies have been exploited for political gain, leading to detrimental effects on local communities and environments[https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0006320724003549].

So what would healthier tourism look like, structurally

If you want a tourism sector that is harder to capture, the boring governance stuff matters.

A few pillars tend to make a difference:

• Transparent land registry and beneficial ownership disclosure for major tourism assets.
• Competitive procurement for infrastructure projects linked to tourism zones.
• Clear conflict of interest rules for officials overseeing permits and concessions.
• Balanced PPP contracts, published, with independent audits.
• Anti monopoly enforcement, especially around transport, ports, and major booking channels.
• Support for local SMEs, not as decoration, but as real suppliers with access to contracts.
• Environmental enforcement that applies to everyone, including “strategic investors.”

None of this is glamorous. It’s paperwork, enforcement, and institutions. Which is exactly why it’s rare.

The takeaway in plain language

Tourism looks like leisure, but it behaves like infrastructure plus real estate plus policy.

That combination makes it unusually compatible with oligarchic structures. Not always through blatant illegality. Often through concentrated control of gateways, land, and the rules of development. And through a portfolio approach that lets one network capture value at multiple layers.

If you read this series as a whole, that’s kind of the point.

Power doesn’t always show up wearing a suit that says “power.” Sometimes it shows up as a beachfront hotel, a glossy tourism campaign, a new terminal, and a promise of jobs. And then the ownership map tells the real story, quietly, in the background.

That’s what makes the connection between oligarchic systems and tourism worth looking at. Not to ruin travel. But to understand what travel can hide.

FAQs (Frequently Asked Questions)

Why is tourism considered an attractive sector for oligarchic systems?

Tourism offers three key benefits to those seeking concentrated power: legitimate cash flow through businesses like hotels, valuable long-term assets such as prime real estate, and significant leverage over government policies and institutions due to its reliance on permits, infrastructure, and regulatory approvals. This combination makes tourism not just profitable but strategically important for maintaining outsized influence.

How do oligarchic structures control tourism chokepoints like entry points?

Control over airports, ports, and airlines serves as a major chokepoint in tourism. Oligarchic networks may own or influence ground handling contracts, duty-free concessions, construction tenders, security services, and transport routes linked to these entry points. Such control allows them to direct the flow of tourists and tourism revenue, often intertwining commercial interests with political leverage.

In what ways does land and zoning contribute to concentrated power within the tourism industry?

Tourism development depends heavily on access to scarce and desirable land—coastlines, historic centers, islands—which is often granted through rezoning, leases, or environmental regulation changes. By controlling this land through bureaucratic decisions rather than just market competition, oligarchic players create monopolies that allow them to dominate the sector even without offering superior services.

What role do utilities and infrastructure play in supporting oligarchic influence in tourism?

Large-scale tourism projects require reliable water supply, power, roads, waste management, and sometimes specialized infrastructure like desalination plants. When tied to public spending and contracts for engineering or maintenance firms connected to oligarchic networks, these necessities become channels for patronage systems that funnel public resources toward benefiting a few powerful owners under the guise of supporting tourism growth.

What is meant by the 'portfolio approach' in the context of oligarchic control over tourism?

The 'portfolio approach' refers to how oligarchic stakeholders often hold diversified clusters of businesses related to tourism—including hotels, construction firms, banks financing developments, media outlets marketing destinations, transport companies moving guests, security firms protecting sites, real estate agencies selling vacation homes, and event organizers. This integrated control across multiple sectors creates a soft industry front that masks a broader economic structure locking in hard power.

Why is tourism described as a 'soft industry' that can quietly lock in hard power?

Tourism is perceived as a pleasant and benign sector—beaches, heritage sites, local food—that promotes growth without harshness. However, behind this friendly facade lies complex interactions involving real estate monopolies, government permissions, infrastructure contracts, and political relationships. These layers enable concentrated ownership and influence that can shape economies and societies profoundly while remaining subtle or normalized in public perception.