Businessman Tymur Mindich, a long-time close personal associate of Zelensky’s, has also been implicated, along with several former cabinet level ministers from different Ukrainian governments. The court ordered that Yermak be held in custody for two months, with the possibility of release on bail set at 140 million hryvnias (approximately $3.2 million). The former head of the presidential office said he did not have that kind of money, and that his lawyers would seek the funds “among friends and acquaintances.”

Dynasty: key details of the Yermak case

An organized group that allegedly included the former head of the Presidential Office has been uncovered, Ukraine’s Specialized Anti-Corruption Prosecutor’s Office (SAPO) claims. According to the allegations, these people were involved in laundering 460 million hryvnias (€8.9 million) through financing the construction of the elite “Dynasty” cottage complex outside Kyiv.

Members of the scheme allegedly agreed to build four private residences for personal use and one shared residence — with a spa area, swimming pool, gym — the National Anti-Corruption Bureau (NABU) said. The estimated construction cost of a single residence was around $2 million. According to the anti-corruption agencies, one of the houses belonged to Yermak.

According to investigators, the construction was financed using illegally obtained funds funneled through controlled entities, cooperatives, and companies believed to be fictitious entities. Part of the money was disguised, and the real owners of the properties were concealed.

During a hearing earlier this week, it emerged that Yermak consulted a fortune teller about appointments to government posts. She was listed in his contacts as “Veronika Feng Shui Office” and was unlikely to have had official access to government information. Yermak sent her candidates’ dates of birth and asked for advice. Veronika, meanwhile, allegedly turned him against NABU and SAPO.

Yermak consulted a fortune teller about appointments to government posts, and she was listed in his contacts as “Veronika Feng Shui Office”

According to investigators, on Dec. 24, 2025, during a search of Yermak’s driver, a contact saved as “Andriy 2025” (presumably Yermak) sent Veronika the message: “Klymenko, Kryvonos.” Veronika replied that the attacks against him were intensifying and urged him to show resolve and take active countermeasures: “The situation is such that either you [act], or they get you.”

Yermak denies any involvement in the “Dynasty” scheme. Answering journalists’ questions after being served with notices of suspicion, he said that he owned “only one apartment and one car.” He claims that law enforcement agencies were subjected to “unprecedented public pressure” demanding that charges be brought against him. “The investigation must remain independent from political statements, media campaigns, or any other forms of influence,” the former head of the Presidential Office wrote on Telegram.

Ukraine’s anti-corruption agencies have also spoken of pressure — this time on potential witnesses involved in the “Dynasty” case. According to NABU Director Semen Kryvonos, investigators are examining the possible involvement of officers from the Security Service of Ukraine (SBU) in the alleged influence plot.

In addition to the former head of the Presidential Office, six other alleged members of the organized group were also served with notices of suspicion on May 12: businessman Tymur Mindich (once again), former Ukrainian Deputy Prime Minister Oleksiy Chernyshov (whom investigators describe as the organizer of the scheme), as well as four people allegedly subordinate to the former deputy prime minister. All of them stand accused of large-scale misappropriation and the laundering of criminal proceeds. NABU has denied any evidence of personal involvement by Volodymyr Zelensky in the case.

NABU denied any involvement by Volodymyr Zelensky in the case

Oleksiy Chernyshov, whom NABU recordings refer to as “Che Guevara,” was formally charged back in November with abuse of office and receiving unlawful benefits.

The court placed him in custody, though he was later released from pretrial detention after posting bail. According to investigators, in June 2020 “Che Guevara” brought a certain “Carlson” — allegedly the aforementioned Mindich — into the construction of the “Dynasty” complex. The businessman himself left Ukraine just hours before the searches began.

It was during the “Midas” investigation that detectives established that one of the conversations between suspects concerned the construction of a cooperative housing complex outside Kyiv. Amid the public outcry surrounding the case, on Nov. 28, 2025, Yermak was forced to submit his resignation.

As reported by Ukrainska Pravda, Yermak did not believe until the very last moment that he would be dismissed. According to the outlet, when he was asked to write a resignation letter, he reportedly launched into a half-hour tirade in front of the Ukrainian president, one “filled with insults, reproaches, and accusations.”

Commenting on the decision to reshuffle his office, Zelensky said: “I want there to be no questions whatsoever about Ukraine.” After his dismissal, Yermak promised to go to the front, though he never made it into the Armed Forces. Instead, he met with the Secretary of Ukraine’s National Security and Defense Council (NSDC), Rustem Umerov, who has witness status in the “Midas” case, and also with Ukraine’s ambassador to Israel, Yevhen Korniychuk. Mindich is currently living in Israel.

Many expected charges to be brought immediately after Yermak’s resignation, and media outlets were reporting that NABU was already preparing them. But the process dragged on.

The Insider asked SAPO why the charges were brought only now, and spokeswoman Olha Postoliuk explained that Yermak was formally notified of the suspicion regarding his activities as soon as sufficient evidence had been gathered: “At this point, sufficient evidence has been collected to notify the individual in question that he is under suspicion.”

According to Yermak’s lawyer, Ihor Fomin, the case file consists of 16 volumes averaging 250 pages each. NABU insists that the delay was unrelated to any pressure on the bureau.

When preparing to formally notify Yermak that he was under suspicion, the anti-corruption agencies tried to calculate every possible scenario as carefully as possible. “They moved deliberately so that the case would not collapse even at the stage of bail hearings,” says Ihor Reiterovych, head of political and legal programs at the Ukrainian Center for Social Development. Reiterovych agrees that external pressure played no role, and that NABU and SAPO have already demonstrated that “it makes no difference to them what position a person held or currently holds.” He also does not consider the possibility of international pressure to have been significant in the Yermak case: if anything other than the facts and the law influenced the investigation, he says, it was public demand.

Who was swept up by “Midas”

The detectives working on “Midas” began their investigation in the summer of 2024, though the operation itself only became public in the fall of 2025. During that time, NABU collected more than 1,000 hours of recorded conversations involving participants in the scheme and conducted dozens of searches.

According to investigators, Tymur Mindich organized a large-scale embezzlement scheme in the energy sector. His trusted associates allegedly skimmed 10–15% from the value of contracts awarded by Energoatom — Ukraine’s largest electricity producer and the operator of all active nuclear power plants in the country.

Six people were initially charged: former Energy Ministry adviser Ihor Myroniuk (“Rocket”), former Energoatom security director Dmytro Basov (“Tenor”), as well as four employees of the so-called “laundromat” allegedly responsible for concealing the money trail — businessman Oleksandr Tsukerman (“Sugarman”), Ihor Fursenko (“Ryoshik”), Lesya Ustymenko (“Lesya Kyiv financier of the brothers”), and Liudmyla Zorina (“Electronic”). Later, the case expanded to include Herman Halushchenko (“Sigismund”), a former Energy Minister who, at the time of his detention, was heading Ukraine’s Ministry of Justice.

Halushchenko was detained while attempting to cross the border and was accused of creating a criminal organization and “laundering illegally obtained assets.” Ukraine’s High Anti-Corruption Court ordered his arrest with the possibility of release on bail.

According to investigators, the group received more than $112 million in cash from schemes in the energy sector after it was allegedly laundered through cryptocurrency and an offshore fund managed by members of Halushchenko’s family. NABU recordings reveal that while heading the Energy Ministry (2021-2025), Halushchenko wanted to leave his post and “go somewhere as an ambassador.”

NABU wiretaps revealed that while heading the Energy Ministry, Herman Halushchenko wanted to leave his post and “go somewhere as an ambassador”

The former minister explained his acquaintance with Tymur Mindich simply by saying that their children had been in the same class at school. “Since then, we stayed in touch, but I wouldn’t say we were close friends... The last time I spoke to and saw Mindich was in the summer of 2025 at an apartment on Hrushevsky Street. It was just a personal meeting. We talked about various things, nothing special was discussed, no issues,” he said, adding that Oleksandr Tsukerman was also present at the meeting.

Halushchenko denies all of the accusations against him. He remains in pretrial detention, as does Ihor Myroniuk. An attempt was made to post bail for the latter, but Ukraine’s financial monitoring service blocked the funds based on the suspicion that they originated from illegal sources.

Four other suspects were released on bail, including “Tenor” — Dmytro Basov from Energoatom, whom investigators consider one of the key participants in the alleged “laundromat” — and the “laundromat’s” suspected accountant, Ihor Fursenko.

The main figures in Operation “Midas,” however — businessmen Oleksandr Tsukerman and Tymur Mindich — left Ukraine before the searches began and have remained in Israel ever since. They were placed on a wanted list in November and arrested in absentia in December. Tsukerman said that he would “gladly return to Ukraine when the time comes.” Needless to say, he has not done so.

Mindich commented publicly on the scandal for the first time at the end of December, when journalists from Ukrainska Pravda managed to track him down in Israel. The businessman said he believed he had been made a “scapegoat” and that he was being accused of “a million things” that he knew nothing about. However, he was unable to refute the allegations made by NABU and SAPO.

The “Midas” leak: top figures may have known about the investigation

At the end of April, Ukrainska Pravda began publishing transcripts of intercepted conversations involving suspects in the case — the so-called “Mindich tapes.” The recordings were made by NABU and SAPO in the Kyiv apartment of businessman Tymur Mindich and were added to the criminal case file. More than ten volumes of materials have already been sent to Israel as part of a request for the extradition of Mindich and Tsukerman.

As it turned out, senior officials speak Russian among themselves and refer to one another by nicknames or first names. The recordings mention “Vova,” “Andriy,” “Lyosha,” “Oleg,” and “Surgeon.” Journalists had to separately explain who was who. “Lyosha” is believed to refer to former Deputy Prime Minister Oleksiy Chernyshov. “Vova” is thought to be Volodymyr Zelensky. “Andriy” and “Surgeon,” according to Ukrainska Pravda, are two designations for Andriy Yermak. “Oleg,” who allegedly “solves problems and became much more intense during the war,” is believed to be Deputy Head of the Presidential Office Oleh Tatarov.

As it turned out, senior Ukrainian officials speak Russian among themselves

In the first batch of recordings, Mindich and former presidential adviser Serhiy Shefir discuss raising bail money for the arrested Oleksiy Chernyshov – with part of the money to be provided “officially” and part “unofficially.” In the second recording, Mindich and then-Defense Minister Rustem Umerov talk about the defense company Fire Point and contracts with the ministry.

According to Ukrainska Pravda, Mindich may have been one of the beneficiaries of the company, which receives more defense contracts than any other firm in Ukraine. According to lawmaker Yaroslav Zhelezniak, 311 billion hryvnias (nearly €6 billion) passed through the company, while Mindich’s personal profit amounted to roughly €1.3 billion. The businessman himself denies any connection to Fire Point. After the publication of the recordings, the public anti-corruption council under the Defense Ministry called for Umerov to be suspended from his duties as Secretary of the National Security and Defence Council; however, he remains in that post. At a May 12 briefing, SAPO head Oleksandr Klymenko said that Umerov had been questioned and that he held witness status in the case.

The second batch of transcripts added new figures to the story. Brothers Andriy Veselyi and Vasyl Veselyi allegedly gained control of the state-owned Sense Bank and the chemical plant Karpatnaftokhim with the assistance of Mindich and Yermak. According to the recordings, six members of the bank’s supervisory board “were supposed to be under the control” of the suspects.

The conversations about construction at the “Dynasty” complex also revealed a curious detail: the fence between Mindich’s plot and “Vova’s” plot had almost already been in place. “There were ten meters left. Everyone dropped everything and left,” Mindich says in the recording. Following the publications, NABU opened criminal proceedings, and the houses in the “Dynasty” complex were placed under arrest.

But the most explosive material was revealed in the third batch of “tapes,” published on May 8. These recordings suggest that the suspects may have been warned about the operation from inside the system. In a September 2025 recording, Ihor Myroniuk and Dmytro Basov discuss then-deputy head of SAPO Andriy Syniuk as “a good contact” who was “ready to help and provide warnings,” though they allegedly said he should only be used in critical situations.

About a month after that conversation, Andriy Syniuk accessed the internal database of Ukraine’s anti-corruption agencies and reviewed files on Oleksandr Tsukerman, Ihor Myroniuk, and Dmytro Basov. Notably, they did this one month before Operation “Midas” was publicly announced.

Ten days later, an aide to Tsukerman allegedly told associates: “The boss called ten minutes ago. He says ‘pack up, we’re going to Palanca.’” Tsukerman crossed the Moldovan border and ended up in Israel. Tymur Mindich left the country four hours before investigators arrived with search warrants.

Syniuk resigned from SAPO of his own accord back in November, immediately after NABU’s first publications. SAPO head Oleksandr Klymenko confirmed that there were at least two separate leaks during the operation, and criminal investigations were opened into each of them. Active investigative measures were not pursued at the time in order not to jeopardize the main operation.

Brussels is watching closely

“Midas” triggered a chain reaction. In January 2026, NABU detained Yulia Tymoshenko, leader of the Batkivshchyna parliamentary faction, on the suspicion that she had bribed lawmakers in order to secure their votes in parliament (she says the case was fabricated). Money seized during the searches has already been returned to her.

That same month, former deputy head of the Presidential Office Oleksandr Shurma was arrested in absentia in connection with a case involving the embezzlement of funds allocated under the “green tariff” program affecting Ukraine’s Russian-occupied territories. He said he was prepared to cooperate with investigators from his current whereabouts in Germany. In April, another former Yermak deputy — Andriy Smyrnov — was formally notified that he was under suspicion of bribery.

In total, in 2025, NABU and SAPO opened 737 cases (compared with 669 the previous year), sent more than 750 indictments to court, and secured over 400 convictions. April polling showed rising public trust in the country’s anti-corruption agencies. Researchers link this to the summer 2025 protests, when civil society thwarted the Zelensky administration’s attempts to limit the independence of NABU and SAPO, as well as to the high-profile cases that followed.

In Brussels, the developments have been viewed as a signal. “This demonstrates that Ukraine’s anti-corruption bodies are functioning and carrying out their work,” European Commission spokesman Guillaume Mercier said while commenting on the suspicions against Yermak. Effective anti-corruption efforts, he added, remain a key condition for Ukraine’s progress toward EU membership.

But has Ukraine’s anti-corruption system truly become independent? Skeptics point out that the agencies’ growing effectiveness has been accompanied by tighter personal control by leadership. Former prosecutor Stanislav Bronevytskyi claims that under Oleksandr Klymenko, SAPO prosecutors have turned into “pens” signing documents at the direction of their superior.

For the first time in the history of NABU and SAPO, Ukraine’s anti-corruption apparatus has systematically reached people from the president’s inner circle. But putting the alleged malefactors behind bars will still be no easy task: the main figures in the “Midas” case remain in Israel, leaks risk compromising the process, and former prosecutor Andriy Syniuk can no longer be held accountable after resigning. The system’s ability to see high-profile cases through to actual convictions will become the real test for the institutions that Ukrainian civil society defended in the streets last summer.

“Today, RIA Novosti reported, based on information from law enforcement agencies, that our sister Nina Litvinova took her own life. [...]

Of course, neither RIA nor Gazeta.ru, which reported this, will publish the note. It lays bare the reasons for her passing all too clearly, so we have decided to reveal the real reasons:

Putin killed her! [...] Here is what she wrote about the reasons for taking her own life:

‘I love you all and think of you. But I must go; I can no longer bear to live. Ever since Putin attacked Ukraine and has been killing innocent people, and here at home he has been endlessly imprisoning thousands of people who are suffering and dying there simply because, like me, they are against war and against killing. There is nothing I can do to help them. Zhenya [Evgeniya] Berkovich, Svetlana Petriychuk, Karina Tsurkan, and thousands of others are suffering and dying behind bars. I tried to help them, but my strength has run out, and I am tormented day and night by my powerlessness.

I am ashamed, but I have given up. Please forgive me.’”

Nina Litvinova’s death was confirmed on May 13. She was found unconscious beneath the windows of a residential building on Frunzenskaya Street. Medics who arrived at the scene were unable to save her.

Litvinova was born in 1945 to mathematician Mikhail Litvinov and physiologist Flora Yasinovskaya (Litvinova). She was the granddaughter of Maxim Litvinov, the Soviet people’s commissar for foreign affairs from 1930 to 1939. Her brother, Pavel Litvinov, is a physicist, teacher and dissident who took part in the 1968 “Demonstration of the Seven” on Red Square against the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia.

For more than 40 years, Nina Litvinova worked at the Russian Academy of Sciences’ Institute of Oceanology, where she studied the biology of brittle stars, a class of bottom-dwelling echinoderms. She published several scientific papers and described several new species of the animals.

Litvinova had helped political prisoners since the 1960s. The Nobel Peace Prize-winning human rights organization Memorial wrote that in the past eight years, she attended the trials of Yury Dmitriev, a Karelian researcher of Stalin-era repression, veteran rights activist Oleg Orlov, and theater director Evgeniya Berkovich. She also helped lesser-known political prisoners who received little media attention. Russian literary critic Anna Narinskaya said Litvinova brought books to the women in the “New Greatness” case who were under house arrest and cared for them.

According to the journalists, the central role in the network belongs to Moscow-based company Instratech (formerly known as “Vertical”), which is linked to the Hüter and Resanta brands. Through the firm Tekhnoinvest, Instratech is connected to Kreuss, which sells products under the Vikhr brand. The same network, according to Systema, is also linked to the production association Globus, which holds the trademark for Groza and a patent for a drone jamming system.

The investigation names businessman Viktor Podchufarov, his sons Ivan and Grigory Podchufarov, and his presumed daughter, Anna Sukhareva. Systema reported that members of the Podchufarov family have owned companies at various times that were linked to both tool sales and the production of drones and military software, including Vertical, Tekhnoinvest, Kreuss, Globus, Media Effect, Novotekh and Vysota.

The Groza brand is used for FPV drones, the Zanoza heavy strike UAV, the Sova reconnaissance drone, the Slon cargo copter, and the Night Witch hexacopter. The latter is commonly described as a Russian analogue of the Ukrainian “Baba Yaga” drones. The Zanoza, according to its developers, can carry up to 10 kg of payload, while the Night Witch can carry up to four mines and is also equipped with a thermal imaging camera.

Two more companies linked to military development are also mentioned in the investigation: Media Effect holds patents for the Glaz and Groza software systems used for drone control and artillery targeting, while Vysota, owned by Ivan Podchufarov, has registered the Sova trademark — the name of a reconnaissance UAV which, according to Systema, is supplied to the Russian armed forces.

Russian pro-government media and Telegram channels regularly report the use of Groza systems in Ukraine, while Glaz/Groza software is taught at Russian military universities. Most companies in the network are now registered as non-public joint-stock companies, making their ultimate owners impossible to identify. Viktor Podchufarov and representatives of affiliated companies did not respond to Systema’s questions.

According to the group, local authorities in the northeastern German town of Burg bei Magdeburg issued the order requiring Rudnev to leave the country. He went to the immigration office May 7 to extend his documents but was given a departure order instead of a temporary residence permit.

Germany’s Federal Office for Migration and Refugees (BAMF) is currently reviewing Rudnev’s renewed asylum application. On May 5, two days prior to being handed the departure order, Rudnev attended a personal interview with BAMF, presenting new evidence in support of his case.

Rudnev told the Ochevidcy (“Eyewitnesses”) project that his previous lawyer “ruined his case.” In Germany, he learned German and joined the local Red Cross. Before leaving Russia, he worked as an environmental and civic activist and helped fight wildfires through Greenpeace’s Russian branch.

The Anti-War Committee of Russia said Rudnev and his lawyer consider the migration authorities’ actions unlawful. Lawyers for the project told The Insider that the issue is largely bureaucratic:

“The agencies do not communicate with each other, and often, when issuing a deportation order, they are unaware that the person is in the status of an asylum seeker. It is difficult to assess [the number of such cases], but the incidents are alarming.”

Germany adopted a much tougher migration policy after a change of government in May 2025. Chancellor Friedrich Merz’s administration has pursued a highly visible crackdown on migrants that has often been compared with the Trump administration’s policies in the United States. In 2025, Germany forcibly deported 22,787 people, including 126 Russian nationals, a 14% increase from the previous year.

According to Budrys, he had previously denied the existence of such pressure, but now “additional activity has ⁠appeared, from the U.S.” The Lithuanian foreign minister stressed that Vilnius supports EU sanctions on Belarusian potash and does not intend to negotiate resuming transit while the restrictions remain in force.

The issue concerns shipments by Belaruskali, one of the world’s largest producers of potash fertilizers. Until 2022, Belarus exported potash through the Lithuanian port of Klaipėda to India, China, and Brazil. The transit was halted after the U.S. imposed sanctions on Belaruskali over the crackdown on public protests that followed the 2020 presidential election, whose results Western countries did not recognize.

The European Union imposed sanctions on Belarusian potash in 2022 following the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine and support in Minsk for the Kremlin’s war effort. The restrictions are set to remain in force at least until February 2027.

U.S. sanctions on Belarusian potash were lifted in March 2026 after a Washington-brokered deal under which Minsk released 250 political prisoners. John Coale, the U.S. president’s special envoy for Belarus, later told Lithuanian broadcaster LRT that resuming exports through Lithuania “would be beneficial to the United States.”

In March 2025, the Belarusian Investigative Center reported that Belaruskali continued supplying products to the EU in circumvention of sanctions. The investigation found that industrial halite salt produced by the sanctioned company was entering the EU through other firms under the label of Norta de-icing agent. Belaruskali confirmed to journalists that the agent is made from its halite, but said it is formally distributed by third parties.

At least three children were among the 24 people killed and another two among the 48 injured, according to a report by Ukrainian Interior Minister Ihor Klymenko.

Kyiv declared May 15 a day of mourning for the victims, Mayor Vitali Klitschko wrote. In his post, he called the attack the largest strike on the city to date.

Rescue operations lasted about 28 hours.

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky said Thursday that Russia had launched more than 1,560 drones at Ukrainian population centers since Wednesday, damaging about 180 sites across the country, including more than 50 residential buildings.

Previously, the biggest Russian drone attack was registered from the evening of March 23 to the evening of March 24, when Russian forces launched nearly 1,000 drones and missiles at Ukraine.

Zelensky said the Kh-101 cruise missile that hit the apartment building had been produced in the second quarter of this year, pointing to a Ukrainian analysis of the wreckage.

“This means Russia is still importing the components, resources, and equipment necessary for missile production in circumvention of global sanctions," Zelensky wrote on X late Thursday. "Stopping Russia's sanctions evasion schemes must be a genuine priority for all our partners."

The fake videos and images are being posted on X and TikTok. Bots are placing them in comments under posts by well-known fact-checkers, demanding that the information be verified, and are even sending them to journalists’ personal email addresses. Views, reposts, and likes on X are being artificially inflated.

In one video that uses the logo of the media outlet France 24, Matryoshka paints a truly apocalyptic picture, claiming hantavirus has already been detected in 210 people across 60 French cities. It also claims France’s healthcare system and economy have been so weakened by support for Ukraine that the country will be unable to cope with a new epidemic, which it says could have more severe consequences than the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020.

In reality, as of May 14, French Health Minister Stéphanie Rist said only one hantavirus case had been recorded among French citizens — a female passenger from the affected ship. Another 26 people who had contact with the passenger tested negative, and their health continues to be monitored.

Another video disguised as content from the German outlet Deutsche Welle accuses Ukrainian refugees of phone fraud. They allegedly call residents of Germany and France, offering to sell hantavirus medications. To add credibility, the first part of the video describes the evacuation of passengers from the ship where the outbreak occurred fairly accurately.

The bots are also spreading images disguised as scans from the French newspaper Libération. The photos show building walls with graffiti in French reading “Hantavirus ici,” or “Hantavirus here.” The posts claim unknown people marked several dozen homes where infected people live.

In a recent video on her YouTube channel, biologist and science journalist Irina Yakutenko said that hantavirus, unlike COVID-19, is not transmitted from person to person through coughing or sneezing. Humans are not its main host, as the virus reproduces in rodents. The specific strain that infected passengers aboard the MV Hondius is carried by the long-tailed rice rat, whose main habitat is in South America.

Human-to-human transmission is possible only through large droplets of saliva and other bodily fluids, for example, among members of the same family or in cramped conditions, such as on a cruise ship. An analysis of the virus genome cited by Yakutenko shows that it “has not adapted and has not even begun to adapt to reproduce more efficiently in humans or to transmit more effectively.” For that reason, epidemiologists consider an epidemic or pandemic on the scale of COVID-19 unlikely in the case of hantavirus.

In Kenya, the cases of men who supposedly left for jobs in Russia only to end up in the ranks of the Russian army were discussed for months. On Feb. 18, the country’s parliamentary majority leader Kimani Ichung’wah stated during debates that his fellow citizens were being deceived through promises of civilian employment into serving as cannon fodder in a foreign war.

Later, in comments to local media, he stressed that recruits were being sent into combat with virtually no training: “Some were trained for only nine days. They are simply handed weapons and sent off to die.” The remarks came after the release of a report by Kenya’s National Intelligence Service (NIS), excerpts of which were published by Reuters. According to the document, more than 1,000 Kenyan men had been recruited — at the time, at least 39 had been hospitalized with injuries, 28 were missing in action, and 89 were still on the front line.

On the day the information became public – Feb. 19, 2026 – dozens of relatives of recruited Kenyans staged their first organized protest in Nairobi. As reported by Al Jazeera, one of the demonstrators, Winnie Rose Wambui, was trying to obtain information from the authorities about her brother, Samuel Maina, who had told her he was going to Russia to work as a security guard. The last time he contacted her was in October 2025, when he sent a distressing voice message “from the forest” asking her to pray for him.

According to Wambui, Kenya’s Foreign Ministry has provided neither assistance nor any information about her brother. The Russian Embassy either failed to respond to inquiries or denied the allegations of illegal recruitment, albeit while acknowledging that foreigners may voluntarily join the Russian armed forces.

Kenyan men were not the only victims of fraudulent recruitment schemes. This past February, Ukraine’s Foreign Ministry stated that at least 1,700 Africans from dozens of countries were fighting on the Russian side. South African authorities managed to repatriate several illegally recruited citizens, though their investigation remains ongoing. Ghana’s foreign minister confirmed the deaths of 55 Ghanaian citizens who had also been lured to Russia with promises of employment, only to be sent to the front lines. Reports of recruitment carried out through the same deceptive scheme also emerged from Uganda.

In February 2026, the Geneva-based investigative group IMPACT, which tracks Russian recruitment networks, reported that it had obtained several files containing lists of recruited Africans, including a more comprehensive database with information on 1,417 citizens from 35 countries. Journalists verified the file through the digital footprints of the alleged recruits and concluded that, despite containing some inaccuracies in categories such as citizenship data, the list was authentic. The largest number of recruits came from Egypt (361 people), Cameroon (335), and Ghana (234).

A separate IMPACT list contains the names of 316 African recruits who were killed in combat. The highest number of deaths was recorded among citizens of Cameroon, Ghana, and Egypt. In Gambia, Nigeria, Somalia, Uganda, Tanzania, and Zimbabwe, dozens of cases of recruited individuals returning home have also been documented. 

Details have also emerged of how the recruitment network in Kenya actually operated. A report by the NIS alleged that the scheme involved Kenyan intermediaries connected to recruitment agencies and human traffickers, as well as employees of diplomatic missions.

Kenyans traveled on tourist visas using routes passing through Turkey and the United Arab Emirates. However, after security checks were tightened at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi, recruiters began rerouting people through neighboring countries, including Uganda, South Africa, and other states in the region, in order to avoid heightened scrutiny from Kenyan border authorities.

Mercenaries wanted

Any African using social media can come across direct appeals to join the Armed Forces of the Russian Federation. Such ads are presented without references to “security companies,” “civilian jobs,” or other euphemisms. The Insider found one such advertisement in the comments under a post about 22-year-old Kenyan David Kuloba. According to the post, the young man was deceived, recruited, and likely killed in combat.

Kuloba’s mother says that David believed he was traveling to Russia to work as a security guard – that was what the “recruitment agency” had told him. Among comments asking “how to join” and “where recruitment is taking place,” there was also an advertisement presented as an official offer to serve in the Russian army. It featured a prominent English-language headline that read: “Join the Russian Armed Forces – now open to foreign citizens.”

Potential recruits are required to be between the ages of 18 and 55. They are promised access to an “official state program” offering financial and social support. Recruiters assist them with visa applications and arrange and pay for flights to Russia, often to the city of Ufa.

The training period before deployment is said to last between seven and 10 days. The advertisement also guarantees Russian-language courses. However, it does not specify when exactly Kenyan recruits are expected to study the language – before, during, or after combat assaults.

Recruiters also promise free uniforms, housing, food, and medical care. The financial terms are written in small print at the bottom: a one-time payment of 1.4–1.7 million rubles ($19,000-$23,000) upon signing a contract, plus a recruitment bonus of up to $2,600 for bringing in a friend. The advertisement appeared twice in the discussion thread under the news post, published by two different users.

Contact information was also listed at the bottom, including a Telegram account and a phone number. The Insider identified the owners of the listed contact details. The Telegram account, @Za_SVOih102, was displayed under the name “Contract Service, CIS Countries Iran Turkey South Africa,” with the description “We accept foreign citizens.”

No additional information was found about the Telegram username itself, but the phone number +7-962-539-40-21 was saved by different users under the names “Matveeva Olga,” “Bikkuzina Gyuzel,” “LLC Peshkom,” “Bashkir Telecommunications Systems,” as well as “Contract Service” and “Russian Army.”

In the profile of a 2GIS account registered to the number, the “Company” section read: “Central Headquarters for the Formation of Volunteer Battalions of the Republic of Bashkortostan, company for the recruitment of foreign citizens into military service, center for Russian-language instruction and combat training.” According to a CRM database export, the contact was labeled: “GCC CONTACT FOR PROJECT BTEL WEBSITE CONTRACT MOD.”

The recruitment of foreigners into the ranks of the Russian Armed Forces was also carried out through the website workinrussia2025.ru. The domain was registered in August 2025 to a private individual and was paid for one year. Indexed references to the site are relatively scarce, but it does appear on social media.

For example, on Threads, users posted links to the site in the comments section under a post by a young woman who said she was tired of being an Indonesian citizen and wanted to move to Russia. On X, a user named Stepan shared the link to the site, writing in English that it was a contract service for foreign citizens in Russia.

Even AI chatbots appear to know how foreigners can join the Russian army. Grok quoted the recruiters’ website while responding to a user named SirMoyi18480. The potential recruit asked about salary levels and, apparently satisfied with the information, replied: “Good money, I wanna join!” – only to receive another link to the recruitment website.

A potential recruit asked about salary levels in Kenyan shillings and, apparently satisfied with the answer, replied: “Good money, I wanna join!”

SirMoyi18480 posed the question to the chatbot directly in a thread discussing Kenyan officer Peter Kimani, who had sent his mother 1 million Kenyan shillings ($7,700) before being killed in the war against Ukraine. News of his death appeared in the Kenyan press in late February 2026. Kimani had been serving in the military in Embu and decided to travel to Russia during his leave in order to fight. After arriving, he did indeed send money to his mother “to buy land for him.”

He remained in contact with his family online for three months before disappearing. On Jan. 28, the family learned that Peter had been shot dead. His mother is now seeking assistance in repatriating her son’s body.

It remains unclear how this story may have motivated the user SirMoyi18480 to consider joining the Russian Armed Forces or whether he ever contacted recruiters. He did not respond to questions for comment from The Insider.

References to the recruitment website also appear on Facebook, often posted by the same user. Jimmy Åkerlund, whose profile picture features a Russian flag, shared the advertisement in the community “The Knights Templar UK,” which is dedicated to a pseudo-Templar “brotherhood” featuring Christian and militarized symbolism. It also appeared in the group “The People’s Resistance Ireland.”

There are also recommendations from identifiable “real accounts.” For example, a user named Kingscouncil01 – who describes himself as a web designer, a brand influencer, and the CEO of The King Council perfume – advises those interested in joining the Russian Armed Forces to visit the recruitment website. In a follow-up comment, he laments that Nigerians are unable to take part.

The website workinrussia2025 does not resemble an official government resource but rather a landing page – a one-page site designed for a single purpose: to entice potential recruits with financial and social promises and motivate them to contact recruiters. On the homepage, military service is described as “contract work” that does not require knowledge of Russian. Foreign recruits are promised a one-time payment of up to 3.1 million rubles ($43,000) and a monthly salary of 260,000 rubles ($3,500).

The site has six versions: in Russian, English, Arabic, Indonesian, and Burmese, as well as a separate version for citizens of Russia and CIS countries. The terms are identical across all language versions — except that recruits from post-Soviet countries are offered a lower one-time payment of 2.1 million rubles ($28,500), along with assistance in “assignment placement.”

According to information published on the website, the recruitment of foreign citizens for contract military service is handled by the already mentioned Central Headquarters for the Formation of Volunteer Battalions of the Republic of Bashkortostan. The site’s authors specifically address citizens of several countries and regions: “We accept citizens from Africa, Zimbabwe, Iraq, Indonesia, Panama, Colombia, the Philippines, Myanmar, and CIS countries.”

The contract-signing process is described step by step, with recruiters promising support “at every stage, 24/7.” Nothing is said about health requirements, physical fitness, or even the age of prospective “applicants.” For communication, recruits are primarily encouraged to use messaging apps: a WhatsApp account under the name “Work RF” and a Telegram account called workinrussia2025ru, which bears the description “Contract service in Russian Army.”

The phone number listed at the bottom of the website differs from the one used to register the messaging accounts. In various contact directories, it appears under the names “Russian Army,” as well as “Russia” in Arabic and “Peace Throughout the World” and “Russian Army” in Bengali. Addresses linked to the number are located in Ufa.

The recruiters’ contact details also lead to an advertisement posted on the VKontakte page of a woman identified as Darya Artyomovna. Her profile description states: “Information support and coordination center for the volunteer movement of the Republic of Bashkortostan. Current programs, guarantees, payments.”

In August 2025, her page featured a post showing a photograph of dark-skinned men with suitcases alongside the message: “We invite you to sign a contract with the Russian Ministry of Defense in the city of Ufa! We also accept citizens from countries beyond the near abroad: China, Colombia, Africa, Iraq, Iran, Egypt, the CIS, etc. Foreign military personnel WITHOUT knowledge of the Russian language!” The post promises tickets and visas, although the payments offered are more modest: a one-time payment of 1.4–1.7 million rubles ($19,000-$23,000)  and a monthly salary of 230,000–260,000 rubles ($3,100-3,500)

In one of her posts, Darya explains why foreigners choose to serve in what Russia calls the “special military operation.” One of the factors she cites is “historical memory,” writing that “People from the countries of the former Yugoslavia, Latin America, and Africa believe that Russia has always helped in the fight against external aggression.”

According to her, citizens of 30 countries are currently serving in the Russian Armed Forces: “These are not mercenaries, not random people. These are contract servicemen who made a conscious decision.” The style and formatting resemble AI-generated text. The post concludes with the slogan: “Your country is not always geography. Sometimes it is a choice of the heart. Russia awaits the strong. Russia awaits the honest. Russia awaits you.”

Darya Artyomovna is also listed among the contacts for the community “Volunteer Headquarters of the Republic of Bashkortostan,” which is dedicated to service in the Russian Armed Forces. The headquarters has an official address in Ufa, and its photo albums feature images of servicemen. A post pinned to the top of the community page calls on foreigners to sign contracts with the Ministry of Defense, and the list of regions from which recruits are being sought includes Africa.

The last publication in the community appeared in January 2025, but the recruitment website is clearly still active. It now has a “twin” site, “workinrussia2026.ru,” that was created on Feb. 9. It has nine language versions: Russian, English, Kazakh, Uzbek, Indonesian, Burmese, Filipino, and Arabic.

The promises have expanded as well, with the one-time payment now said to reach up to 4 million rubles ($54,500), the monthly salary listed at 250,000 rubles ($3,400), and total annual earnings advertised at up to 14 million rubles ($19,000). Recruits are also offered the possibility of obtaining Russian citizenship through a fast-track procedure.

The 2026 version also introduces basic eligibility requirements for candidates — only men between the ages of 18 and 60 with a valid passport, general education, and no serious illnesses or disabilities. Knowledge of Russian and prior military experience remain unnecessary, although the site states that professional skills can increase monthly payments.

Candidates are promised “preparatory courses,” though no duration is specified. Recruits are also assigned a “personal supervisor at every stage.” The terms and contact details are identical across all language versions of the website. No references to the new site have been found on social media or other online resources, suggesting that its active promotion may not yet have begun.

Through deception, willingly, or out of necessity

Africa is experiencing economic growth, but it has not been accompanied by a reduction in poverty or an increase in employment opportunities. According to the International Labour Organization, while the average unemployment rate stands at 6.3%, the measure of inadequate access to decent work reaches 17.4%. Youth unemployment in sub-Saharan Africa remains at 8.9%, and the region accounts for 71% of the world’s population living in extreme poverty.

Nominal economic growth has not resolved the problem. In Kenya, for example, GDP per capita grew by 43% between 2005 and 2022, while the share of the population living below the national poverty line declined from 46.8% to 39.8% over. Nevertheless, according to World Bank forecasts, more than 43% of Kenyans will still be living in poverty in 2026.

Kenyan human rights activist Otieno N. told The Insider that poverty is the main factor driving Africans to fight for the Russian army:

“I don’t think young Kenyans would voluntarily fight for Russia. There are no ideological ties that could encourage this. But I would not rule out that someone, desperate to find work or hoping to escape poverty at home, might take the risk of signing a contract.”

Otieno says that before the start of the full-scale war against Ukraine, former Kenyan servicemen sometimes found work in Russia in spheres connected to the private security industry. However, after 2022, numerous agencies luring young, unemployed Kenyans with promises of jobs abroad emerged. According to Otieno, corrupt local officials may have received payments from agencies that profited from the “fees” charged to men seeking employment opportunities.

In the comments under a Facebook post about Kenyan men recruited into the Russian army, users write that they, too, would like to contact recruiters and go to war. Many of these users, according to their profiles, live in Kenya and other African countries.

In one of the first comments, a woman from Zimbabwe expresses the view that participation in the war is a conscious choice, while another woman from Ghana asked, “Why would you fight in someone else’s conflict? Don’t they have their own citizens in that country? If they cannot get all their own citizens to fight, why should you risk your life?” However, the comment that received the most likes came from an empty profile claiming that Kenyans needed combat experience in order to “become a superpower nation in the future.”

Other comments include statements such as: “the unemployment situation in Kenya is deadly,” “better to die in battle than die poor, drowning in poverty, I need a job, help me,” and “better to die for a purpose in life than to live uselessly with empty hope here in Kenya… I wish West Africans dying in deserts and at sea trying to reach Europe would also take advantage of this opportunity.”

The Insider contacted several Facebook users who had commented on the issue, and one of them, a Nigerian man named Nwosu, said that he himself had “almost given in to the temptation” to go to the front. However, after thinking it over, he decided against it, seeing no reason to “go and die for the glory of another country.” Nwosu believes that Black men, after only three weeks of firearms training, are being asked to risk their lives in a war in which even well-trained Russian soldiers have been unable to secure victory for several years.

“These people do not love us,” Nwosu says. “Otherwise, why has participation in a deadly war become the only way to come to Russia?” The Nigerian describes the recruitment of African men in financial hardship as fundamentally unjust. “Why not open schools for us with affordable tuition so that we could study and assimilate into their way of life and culture? Then we would come to love them and, guided by love rather than poverty, desperation, or hopelessness, decide to leave our mothers behind in another country in search of a better life.”

His compatriot Ib was more radical in comments to The Insider: “We believe it is better to die earning money than to sit at home and be killed for nothing. Everyone knows that the offer from Russia is a golden opportunity to build a better life back home in the future.”

Ib is convinced that “80% of young people” in Nigeria — and across the continent — would embrace such an opportunity “with open arms.” Among his friends are several Nigerian soldiers who want to defect to the Russian army.

As an example, Ib points to Nigerian serviceman Obiora Okechukwu, who fought alongside Russia against Ukraine and said in his videos that Africans were going to the front voluntarily. According to Ib, their signing bonus amounted to $5,000 – an enormous sum in Nigeria, where the average monthly salary ranged from $60 to $130. According to Ib, Obiora had helped Africans join the Russian Armed Forces but later stopped because they “started twisting their stories once things went bad.”

Ukrainian-American journalist and political analyst Peter Zalmayev, who regularly visits African countries, questioned whether soldiers in Africa are recruited solely through deception. As he told The Insider, “It’s like a conveyor belt: one person goes, then your friend from the village or the neighborhood hears something, then your cousin follows, then you go after your brother, and so on.”

Some Kenyans interviewed by The Insider are convinced that “security work” is simply the explanation recruits themselves invent “so as not to worry their mothers, wives, and children.” Zalmayev considers that possibility plausible: “Perhaps this formula helps them save face with their families and gives the fighters a chance to legalize their status later and avoid prosecution. People can come up with different explanations to justify their choices.”

“Security work” may simply be the explanation recruits themselves invent “so as not to worry their mothers, wives, and children”

Speaking to The Insider, political scientist and African studies specialist Irina Filatova recalled how, in South Africa, Duduzile Zuma-Sambudla, one of the daughters of former President Jacob Zuma, was accused of recruiting men to participate in Russia’s war against Ukraine: “They thought they were going to security training courses, but instead ended up at the front. The government did everything it could to get them out because the situation became public. But some had already been killed or maimed.” Following the accusations, Zuma-Sambudla voluntarily resigned her parliamentary seat.

Filatova also notes that in South Africa and in some West African countries where Wagner mercenaries previously trained local armed forces, some people may indeed travel to Russia voluntarily, including to the front line, out of political sympathy alone: “Several factors come together here: Russia is popular, I’m going to do a good thing, and I’ll also be well paid – so everything seems wonderful.”

The propaganda of nostalgia and hope

Attitudes toward Russia across the African continent vary significantly from country to country. In 2024–2025, the research service Afrobarometer conducted a survey involving more than 50,000 respondents from 38 African countries. Participants were asked to assess Russia’s political and economic influence.

The results showed that 36% of respondents viewed Russia’s influence as “somewhat/very positive,” while 23% described it as “somewhat/very negative.” Around 42% were unable to give a definite answer. In Central Africa, roughly half of respondents expressed sympathy toward Russia, with 43% in West Africa, 27% in Southern Africa, and 26% in East Africa expressing similar sentiments.

At the country level, the most positive attitudes toward Russia were recorded in Mali (80% of respondents) and Cameroon (60%). The war in Ukraine did not significantly worsen perceptions of Russia: in 24 countries, researchers recorded an increase of around three percentage points in positive assessments compared with the 2019–2021 period.

Code for Africa (CfA), the continent’s largest network of civic technology laboratories and data centers, confirmed in comments to The Insider that Russian influence in African countries is built through different models taking into account the local context.

In Mali, for example, the central narrative is security: pro-Russian campaigns emphasize military cooperation with Moscow and the effectiveness of Russian forces while simultaneously downplaying the achievements of the Western presence. In Kenya, emphasis is placed primarily on soft-power tools, including the network of Russian Orthodox Church parishes – 37 in total across the country – which researchers describe as one of the channels of Russian influence. In Nigeria, the Russian Orthodox Church also operates several parishes that CfA suspects of cooperating with influencers. There, the operation also includes planting material in local newspapers and countering anti-government protests. According to the researchers, the overall effect of these activities has been to protect the interests of coup leaders in the Sahel, fuel anti-Western sentiment, and increase sympathy for Russia’s military actions in Ukraine.

Irina Filatova notes that after the start of the full-scale war in Ukraine, Russian propaganda activity on the continent intensified sharply, diplomatic engagement increased, official visits became more frequent, and cooperation expanded across multiple sectors. She describes West Africa – particularly the Central African Republic – as the region most friendly toward Russia, while South Africa also remains relatively close. Kenya, in her view, is more distant: “At the UN, it did not always vote with Russia, and it did not even always abstain.”

Ukrainian-American political analyst Peter Zalmayev believes that Russia currently exerts its strongest influence in Francophone Africa – including Niger, Burkina Faso, Côte d’Ivoire, the Central African Republic, and parts of Libya. He says that Africans are increasingly being presented with the image of Burkina Faso’s military leader Ibrahim Traoré as a role model:

“It’s the image of the kind of personalist, authoritarian power that now exists in Russia. On both the western and eastern coasts of Africa, I’ve seen these kinds of iconostases displayed in the rear windows of buses – for example, in Burundi there was one with the local president, Putin, and Gaddafi. Gaddafi, as we know, also promoted a pan-African vision and wanted to unite the continent. In other countries, if it’s not Gaddafi, then it’s the local president, Putin, and Traoré. I’ve seen this in Zimbabwe, Tanzania, and elsewhere.”

Zalmayev’s observations are echoed by investigators at Code for Africa, who say that propaganda campaigns supporting Burkina Faso’s leader Ibrahim Traoré are aimed in part at audiences in Nigeria, Ghana, South Africa, and Kenya. They also note that some of this content consists of AI-generated videos designed to project an image of economic growth and overall stability.

In this way, propaganda attempts to capitalize on young people’s frustration – their anger over unemployment, corruption, and weak democratic institutions. More importantly, it seeks to normalize the idea that military regimes can serve as an acceptable alternative. Assessing which groups are most vulnerable to recruitment, CfAresearchers point to several target demographics: soldiers in Cameroon, taxi drivers in South Africa, and craftsmen in Nigeria.

According to Zalmayev, even countries that were not previously known for pro-Russian positions have shifted in recent years because of worsening attitudes toward the United States: “With Donald Trump returning to power, with aid to Africa being cut – including through USAID – a vacuum has emerged, and nature abhors a vacuum. Many countries understand that they need to attach themselves to some kind of harbor.”

Against the backdrop of China’s growing appetite – Beijing has long since strengthened its presence on the continent – the number of countries sympathetic to Russia is also increasing. On March 16, 2026, for example, Namibia began considering prospects for cooperation with Rosatom.

“Russia is also expanding its influence through propaganda built around a continent-wide narrative: ‘This is about the Soviet Union’s assistance in anti-colonial struggles, in the fight against apartheid and imperialism. Russia presents itself as the defender of the Global South, fighting oppression and advocating for a multipolar world,’” Irina Filatova explains.

The continent-wide narrative promoted by Russian propaganda centers on the Soviet Union’s support for anti-colonial struggles and the fight against apartheid and imperialism

Filatova believes the specific reasons for sympathy toward Russia vary from country to country. In South Africa, narratives of Soviet assistance remain especially influential: the USSR is still regarded as a friend of both South Africa and the ruling African National Congress, as well as “those who are still in power or only recently left office.” When it comes to West Africa, Filatova agrees with Zalmayev that there is a strong anti-French element in Russian propaganda and that Moscow’s influence is particularly strong in former French colonies.

Another narrative, more widespread in Southern and Central Africa, revolves around the promotion of traditional values, which many on the continent perceive as being similar to Russia’s own: “There is an emphasis on the religious values of Africans, resistance to the dominance of Western mentality, and opposition to the imposition of Western norms and rules. And in all of this, Russia presents itself as helping Africa.”

Peter Zalmayev also points to strong nostalgia across the continent for Soviet-African ties, especially in South Africa. According to him, that past is associated primarily with Russia, even though Ukraine, in his words, “played second fiddle in this alliance.” As he explains it: “More than half of the doctors, engineers, and other members of the intelligentsia in Mozambique during the 1970s were from Ukraine.” He argues that this history needs to be discussed more openly in order to counter anti-Ukrainian narratives promoted by Russian propaganda and Moscow’s attempts to appropriate the Soviet legacy.

For many pro-Russian Africans, the image of Russia as a defender against colonialism coexists with support for the invasion of Ukraine – something Zalmayev also attributes to propaganda. Having spoken repeatedly in countries across the continent, he says he has developed his own approach to promoting the Ukrainian narrative: “For Africans, it can be difficult to understand the difference between Russians and Ukrainians – to them, we all ‘look the same,’ just as they sometimes do to us. You have to explain to them that just as they fought against their colonial rulers, Ukraine is now fighting what is, in a sense, a colonial relationship with Russia.”

Zalmayev notes that Ukraine faces greater difficulty promoting its narratives because Kyiv’s diplomatic presence on the continent is objectively much weaker than Moscow’s: Ukraine has only 17 embassies in Africa, while Russia has 54, having inherited the Soviet diplomatic network.

According to his observations, in nearly every country the Russian Embassy resembles “a small city with a skyscraper, shops, and a cultural center.” He adds that “after the start of the full-scale war, Russia seriously stepped up its brainwashing efforts, including against Ukraine.”

In Mali, Zalmayev says, anti-Western sentiment is particularly intense: “Even for someone arriving from the West, it would be unsafe there.” Tanzania, meanwhile, has an authoritarian regime that maintains close ties with both Russia and China. Kenya, by contrast, remains “an island of democracy” with a large and active media landscape.

Irina Filatova describes the situation in many of the countries where Russia has expanded its influence and where Wagner forces have operated – a list that includes the Central African Republic, Mali, Chad, and Niger – as catastrophic: “These are extremely underdeveloped and impoverished regions, marked by deep tensions between local populations and Islamist groups that regularly attack villagers, kill those they dislike, and fight governments for control over enormous natural resources. Russian military personnel apparently receive some share of those resources in exchange for protecting these regimes.”

According to Filatova, propaganda in Africa is spread using almost exactly the same language as in Russia itself. It generally consists of narratives about Russia’s “invincible strength” and supposed battlefield “successes,” along with hostile statements about Volodymyr Zelensky and other demonstrably false information. As a result, in countries where Russian influence is strong, many people develop pro-Russian attitudes, especially regarding the causes of the war against Ukraine.

The Insider spoke with Africans who had expressed support for Russia on social media and who said they wanted to help Russia at the front for ideological reasons. Joe Sergeant, from Namibia, has no military experience, but says he “loves the army with all his heart” and wants “to fight evil and the deceivers in NATO.” He believes that Russia, North Korea, China, and Iran are fighting for truth and justice.

A Nigerian man named Wilfred Father said that all countries except Ethiopia had been colonized, but that Russia had never been among the colonial powers: “Fighting for Russia would mean fighting for freedom from neocolonialism. Why should Africans today depend on Western aid in order to develop? Why is Africa a dumping ground for Western goods? Why do they take our mineral resources and give us pieces of paper in the form of dollars, which they print in enormous quantities?” Wilfred says he knows many people who share these views.

Notably, his comments about Ukraine closely mirror Russian propaganda narratives: “The war was not started by Russia, but by America through Ukraine. Russia will not lose – it has the military power to continue fighting for the right cause.” He describes opposing views as the result either of ignorance or of an unwillingness to seek out “reliable information.”

A Kenyan man named David shared with The Insider his dream of fighting for Russia:

“I want to fight the terrorists from the United States, but my health does not allow it. The people who joined the Russian army have been given a great honor – to stand against true evil, depravity, and slavery. Two of my friends are still there. They call and write to their families and do not want to return until victory. Long live Putin!”

David refused to provide any further details about his friends serving in the Russian military, adding only that the work is well paid and that “nobody mistreats them because Russians are like brothers.”

Russians living in Kenya have noticed the effects of the Kremlin’s efforts. An entrepreneur named Alexander told The Insider that Kenyans are aware of the presence of “recruiters urging people to join the special military operation,” but that speaking openly about those who have been recruited is uncommon. He believes that the people who appear in the news are “the ones who ran into problems,” while those serving without incident prefer not to publicize their experience. According to Alexander’s observations, local media coverage tends to revolve around “what can be gained from Russia.” In particular, there was extensive coverage of the Russia–Africa summit and Russian wheat imports to Kenya.

Empire of propaganda: media, culture, and the African MAX

After the death of Yevgeny Prigozhin and the dismantling of his media structures, Russia began rebuilding its system of informational influence in Africa. A key element of this new propaganda architecture is the “African Initiative” (AI), a media project established in Moscow in September 2023.

According to a joint investigation by the European anti-disinformation bodies VIGINUM, the EEAS, and the FCDO, the organization presents itself as “an information bridge between Russia and Africa.” In practice, however, it functions as part of Russia’s public diplomacy strategy, serving as a major instrument of informational influence on the continent.

The report’s authors suspect that the activities of AI are directed by the Russian state, particularly its intelligence services. The organization allegedly exploits existing instability and anti-Western sentiment across Africa in order “to shape the information environment in favor of pro-Kremlin ideology” using both online and offline tools.

According to the investigators, manipulative schemes are concealed behind the façade of public diplomacy. An investigation by the French media outlet Forbidden Stories states directly: “African Initiative is a new springboard for Russian interference in African affairs.”

According to findings published by investigators in May 2025, the organization also promotes the “Africa Corps,” the successor to Wagner, and several figures involved in African Initiative’s operations were affiliated with Prigozhin’s “Lakhta Center.” Among them are editor-in-chief Artyom Kureyev (accused of participating in disinformation campaigns in Europe and Africa and linked to the FSB), liaison officer and contributor Viktor Lukovenko (a.k.a. Vasilyev, who is linked to the GRU and was convicted in Russia of racially motivated murder before later being arrested in Kyrgyzstan on suspicion of recruiting mercenaries), and deputy editor-in-chief Anna Zamaraeva (the former head of the press service for the Wagner Center PMC).

The deputy editor-in-chief of the African Initiative news agency is Maxim Solopov, formerly a special correspondent for Meduza and a reporter for RBC. He became widely known after publishing, together with Kristina Safonova, an article about a double murder that suggested possible involvement by defendants in the Penza “Network” case.

Following the publication, Solopov was granted witness status and testified during the trial. Within the Russian journalistic community, the article was described as “raw and unverified” and “resembling a leak,” while The Insider pointed out a number of inconsistencies and other questionable aspects of the investigation.

African Initiative operates as a full-fledged media outlet, with versions in English, French, Spanish, and Arabic, as well as a Telegram channel. Articles published on the website are reposted to the Telegram channel and then distributed across dozens of affiliated groups and communities.

One of the outlet’s most widely circulated posts, published on Jan. 24, 2023, concerned the arrival of one hundred Russian servicemen in Burkina Faso, along with military equipment and weapons. According to an investigation by DisinfoAfrica, the post was shared across 87 public groups and channels, generating approximately 1.5 million views and 537 interactions. The outlet’s content ranges from neutral topics such as culture and sports to political material promoting anti-European and anti-Western narratives.

The Insider found similar material on Russian social media platforms. For example, the VKontakte community “Empire News” posted a “news item” claiming that “Africans burned an effigy of Zelensky.” Attached to the post was a video in which a rag doll bearing a photograph of Zelensky was first hanged from a gallows and then set on fire. One of the children in the video repeatedly struck the burning “body” in the head with a stone. According to information published on a pro-Russian website, the “event” took place in Mali in October 2024.

However, the role of African Initiative extends beyond publishing propaganda materials – the organization is also preparing potential future collaborators. In July 2026, a content school titled “From Kilimanjaro to the Desna” opened in Bryansk. African Initiative organized the project in cooperation with the “African Bloggers Union,” the “Union of Bloggers of Russia,” and Bryansk State Engineering and Technology University.

Thirty African bloggers with “professional experience” have already been selected to participate. The educational program includes “lectures on the traditional values of Russia and Africa,” a “discussion on interfaith dialogue,” master classes on “fact-checking” and video production, as well as a “seminar on viral marketing.”

Another increasingly popular avenue of influence is video games. In comments to The Insider, the organization Code for Africa pointed to the propagandistic influence of the online video game Africa Dawn, which portrays the September 2022 coup in Burkina Faso. The game was created by African Initiative and is aimed directly at young people in the country. An information report by the French National Defense and Armed Forces Committee states that the game contributes to distrust of France in the Sahel while portraying Russia as a savior and ally.

In the game, a pro-Western imperialist bloc confronts a pro-Russian pan-African bloc. Missions on the “Russian side” revolve around Yevgeny Prigozhin and culminate in the “liberation of the African people” and the “death of Western imperialism.” The final mission, French television channel TF1 describes it, is “a Russian veni vidi vici glorifying the former Wagner leader as an emperor crowned with a laurel wreath.”

African Initiative also placed considerable hopes in its mobile application Afree – a messaging platform developed specifically for the African market and intended to “unite everyone in Africa and free them from total censorship by giving everyone a voice.”

The launch of the app was announced in Kenya in September 2024. CEO Bakhtibek Batyrkanov stated that “the platform was designed to function in regions with limited internet access, features an intuitive interface for people with low literacy levels, and offers numerous functions for internet-savvy youth.”

The application’s official website is itself an example of crude propaganda. Its developers claim that Chinese and American social media platforms “often have a negative impact on national cultural values,” while Afree’s “mission” is “to protect the African population from the harmful influence of foreign cultures.”

Afree declares its mission to be the protection of African populations from the harmful influence of foreign cultures

Afree is also promoted as “an excellent source of income and a business with high capitalization potential.” Its creators say they plan to build an ecosystem around the platform that will include a payment system, marketplaces for goods and services, hotel-booking tools, and “much more.” Among the technical features highlighted are the ability to watch “long-form videos” similar to Netflix and short videos similar toTikTok, to create and follow channels in the style of Reddit and Telegram, and to use livestreaming functions designed for monetization. The platform also claims it will incorporate features resembling services ranging from PayPal to Alibaba.

The application can only be downloaded through the App Store and third-party services hosting Android installation files. The African messaging app has already been removed from Google Play, although the page remains available in the Yandex cache. According to the listing, the application was uploaded by developer Zhyldyz Moldogaziyeva, was downloaded more than 100,000 times, and held a rating of 3.3 based on 428 reviews. However, only a handful of written comments were left by users. Two were positive, while a third complained about a violation of platform rules: “This application…does not provide the ability to delete my account.” That complaint may have been the reason Afree was removed.

However, another possible factor was information about the app’s links to the Russian Federation, which was explicitly mentioned in the privacy policy published on another website associated with the application. The current version contains no references to Russia and states that users’ facial data is neither downloaded nor stored on servers. However, as can be seen using the Wayback Machine, the version of the page saved on Nov. 14, 2025 contained six references to the Russian Federation. Up until November 13, no edits had been made. But beginning with the version saved on Dec. 15, 2025, the policy instead referred to the laws of the Kyrgyz Republic and stated that personal data was stored on servers located in Kyrgyzstan.

The above-mentioned Moldogaziyeva is listed as the director of LLC Kaganat, according to official records. Investigators also report that Afree head Bakhtibek Batyrkanov studied at the Russian Diplomatic Academy in a field related to international security.

Peter Zalmayev believes Afree is clearly part of an influence operation: “It has a nice façade and a clever name – A-free, not Afri – meaning ‘Africa will be free.’ But it is not a neutral messenger app, because Russian narratives are clearly being pushed through it.” According to him, comments containing false information or pro-Russian opinions on the app and other social media platforms may be written both by bots and by people who are paid to post them.

At the same time, Zalmayev doubts that the application ever gained real popularity or that it is capable of influencing large numbers of people. Kenya alone has a population of roughly 57 million, meaning that even if the figure of more than 100,000 downloads is “organic,” it still represents too small a share of users to be significant for a continent as large as Africa. Residents of African countries interviewed by The Insider said they had never heard of the app.

“I think the whole thing was still in the development stage as an operation, but after the investigation came out, they toned it down. There is not even the slightest chance of Afree replacing WhatsApp. But then again, that was probably the goal they set for themselves. Africa is now highly computerized and smartphone-connected, especially Kenya. But in the end, the money was received, embezzled, and written off in reports,” Zalmayev concludes.

“They’ve got nothing in their heads anyway”

Photographs of African soldiers on the front lines in Ukraine have surfaced not only in foreign media and social networks, but also in pro-Russian VKontakte communities. In February of this year, for example, the “Lyubo-Dorogo” group published a photograph showing three men dressed in military uniforms sitting inside a vehicle. One of the men was Black. His face is uncovered and he is seen smiling at the camera while the other two – apparently Russians – have their appearances concealed. The caption reads: “‘Our Black Russian brothers have already firmly settled into the special military operation zone and are even gradually beginning to speak Russian. They’re kind, cheerful, follow orders, and fight the enemy,’ our servicemen note.”

The nickname “Black Russians” has appeared repeatedly in posts published by Russian servicemen. In October 2024, the group “Patriots of Russia” posted a photograph showing 11 Black men seated at a table with several plates of food in front of them. They are looking at the camera and smiling. The caption reads: “African volunteers. Our Black Russians in the special military operation zone.”

In December 2025, African recruits were given yet another nickname. Under a photograph of a short elderly Black man in military uniform smiling at the camera, the caption reads: “More and more of our Black Russian brothers are taking part in the special operation. Our fighters affectionately call them the Donbas ‘miners.’” One commenter appeared to speculate about the possible motivation behind Africans joining the Russian army: “Russia once helped them, and they remember the favor and are now helping in return.”

According to the community, not all African men who signed up for service were sent to the so-called “special military operation zone.” One video posted in “Lyubo-Dorogo” shows a group of Black men in military uniform standing beside tanks. The caption reads: “Black Russians guarding NATO equipment in Krasnodar” (the reference is to an exhibition of “captured military equipment” held in Krasnodar in October 2024).

One of the videos posted in the VKontakte community, “Overheard POW Search SMO,” reveals the psychological atmosphere surrounding recruits’ first encounters with the Russian army. In the footage, men of different nationalities stand at attention while a voice off camera aggressively demands that they state their “name, age, and citizenship.”

According to the accompanying text, the video shows the “combat coordination” of volunteers from China, Kenya, Colombia, Bangladesh, and Iran (the footage also includes one man from Ghana and several from Russia). The post notes that the events are taking place in the “102nd Motorized Rifle Regiment – Slonim-Pomeranian, Red Banner, Order of Suvorov and Kutuzov regiment, granted Guards status by decree of the President of the Russian Federation on April 16, 2025.”

The battalion is reportedly conducting “intensive training and preparations for deployment to the special military operation zone,” with “drills and live-fire exercises from morning until evening” as recruits are prepared for combat.

The volunteers in the video do not appear enthusiastic. The voice behind the camera refers to recruits with Slavic features by saying, “Alright, Orthodox one,” and at the end mocks the posture of a recruit from Novosibirsk: “If you stand like that, your palms are going to smell like ass.”

Not all users appreciated the cameraman’s tone – some commenters responded by insulting him in return. Most of the other messages in the thread, however, were enthusiastic. There were also expressions of resentment toward those unwilling to fight for Russia, including from two women:

“If that’s the case, then they’ll earn it with blood and sweat, unlike those who come here just for benefits and subsidies, but when it’s time to serve or go to the SMO, they hide in the bushes.”

“Say thank you that they fight shoulder to shoulder instead of running away from the country like some of your own do, even your celebrities like Malakhov, Pugacheva and many others... And then you say only Russians are fighting in the war when most there are not Russians. Thank you guys from the bottom of my heart.”

During training, Africans undergo not only intensive military instruction but also the sacrament of baptism into the Orthodox faith. Priest Alexander Gavrik writes that during one of his trips “to the special military operation zone,” he encountered Africans, and that “our Black Russian brothers were slightly confused when they saw a priest at the deployment point.”

During training, Africans undergo not only intensive military instruction but also the sacrament of baptism into the Orthodox faith

The priest communicated with them “through a Serbian brother” who spoke English and French. The Africans apparently came to the idea of baptism rather quickly: “After a brief introduction about myself and the Orthodox faith, with the help of our Serbian brother, they were baptized.” The text is accompanied by photographs showing several Africans among Russian servicemen as they convert to Orthodoxy.

Some Africans reportedly ended up at the front directly from construction sites. “How do you become a true Black Russian? Ask these guys. Men from Nepal, Africa, and India were building a church near Ryazan. Now they are going as volunteers to the SMO. That’s how steel was forged!” the VKontakte community “Russkost” writes, attaching several photographs of Black men standing near a church.

Searching for the term “Black Russian” produces numerous videos featuring African contract soldiers. In one clip, they say in Russian to the camera: “Wagner Group good, fucking awesome!” In another, they dance to the song “Mother Earth,” while in a third they smile demonstratively and nod as a voice off camera proclaims “Russian world! Victory will be ours!” – apparently without fully understanding what is being said. Meanwhile, one commenter complains: “There’s nothing in their heads anyway, they’re useless.”

It is also possible to get a brief glimpse into the recruits’ training process. One video shows the “instruction” of “Black Russians” unfolding amid the foreigners’ complete inability to understand either the Russian language or the mockery directed at them: “Me, helicopter, tu-tu-tu and go to Sri Lanka, jumping and VDV,” says the “instructor.” He then hands a crushed metal can to a Black recruit and repeats: “Guitar, present.” The man smiles awkwardly and does not know how to respond. “Maybe go to assault? Tu-tu-tu,” the instructor suggests, to which the trainee shakes his head: “No, no.” “Go, go, let’s move!” comes the reply – whether it is said as a joke or deadly seriously is impossible to tell.

Ukraine’s Air Force said 1,362 drones were shot down or radar-lost under the influence of electronic warfare tools. At least 50 drone strikes were recorded, along with falling debris from downed UAVs in 44 locations.

Since the evening of May 13, 41 missiles of various types have also been shot down over Ukraine. Fifteen missiles hit their targets.

The large-scale drone attack mostly targeted western Ukraine. On the evening of May 13, Hungary’s Foreign Ministry summoned the Russian ambassador to protest the attack on the Zakarpattia Region, which is home to a significant ethnic Hungarian population. 

According to Gostev, Russia’s prison population has shrunk from 465,000 inmates at the end of 2021 to 282,000 now. This number includes prisons, penal colonies, and pretrial detention centers, which currently hold approximately 85,000 people across the country.

The penitentiary service director listed several factors behind the decline. TASS quoted him as pointing to the “humanization of criminal punishment,” including the wider use of forced labor, probation, and noncustodial sentences. Gostev also said “effort to recruit contract soldiers for the Armed Forces” has made “a certain impact.”

The independent investigative outlet Important Stories noted that this is likely the first time the Federal Penitentiary Service has acknowledged that the decline in the inmate population is linked to prisoners leaving to fight in Ukraine under contracts with Russia’s Defense Ministry. The Insider was also unable to find any earlier similar statements by representatives of the prison service.

Notably, a report by the state-owned Interfax news agency on Gostev’s remarks cited the same figures but made no mention of the connection between the decline and the military recruitment of prisoners.

Officials had previously attributed the decline in inmate numbers only to the wider use of noncustodial sentences. In March, Russian Supreme Court Deputy Chairman Vladimir Davydov said the trend was the result of efforts to humanize criminal law and law enforcement practices.

The Federal Penitentiary Service also linked the figures to “the broad use of alternative punishments” and “the liberalization of penal policy.” The Justice Ministry first announced a historic record drop in the number of inmates in October 2023 –the first such statement since the penitentiary service stopped publishing inmate population statistics in November 2022, when the Wagner private military company began recruiting mercenaries in penitentiaries across the country.

In late March, lawmakers submitted a bill to the State Duma that would exempt prisoners returning from the war from mandatory supervision. In 2024, the Duma also passed amendments allowing people under investigation, on trial, or already convicted, to sign military contracts.

Cadex President Serge Dextraze told Global News that meetings with representatives of the Canadian Security Intelligence Service, or CSIS, focused on Moscow’s efforts to circumvent the arms embargo. Cadex Defence insists it does not supply its products to Russia. Dextraze said intelligence officers provided the company with specific guidelines. He stressed that authorities had no complaints about the company’s operations.

CSIS, in turn, said the intelligence service is working with arms manufacturers and exporters to prevent sanctioned Canadian goods from reaching Russia. “With increased awareness of this illicit activity, Canadian companies are better enabled to proactively vet customers themselves,” a CSIS spokesperson said.

In its annual report published May 1, CSIS stated Russia is trying to “illicitly procure export-controlled and sanctioned technology from the West, including Canada.” Moscow is particularly interested in Canadian microelectronics, satellite communications, and precision firearms, the report said.

As previously reported by The Insider and Global News, Cadex rifles are used by snipers in at least three Russian army units. Indirect evidence suggests the shipments may be routed through the United States and Kazakhstan.

After the investigation was published, Canadian Foreign Minister Anita Anand promised to thoroughly examine how Canadian rifles ended up with Russian snipers. But six months after publication, Global News hasyet to receive a substantive response from authorities. Instead, Canada’s Foreign Ministry issued a statement saying there had been no “direct-to-Russia exports of arms” from Canada since 2015 and that no components had been supplied since 2020.

The Foreign Ministry reiterated that the Canadian rifles in question could have been supplied to the Armed Forces of Ukraine and could have been captured by Russian troops on the battlefield. However, that version does not explain how Russia is obtaining new barrels in branded cases with intact labels. Similar rifles were displayed at the OrelExpo-2025 arms exhibition in Moscow in early October.

Evgeny Stanislavov is expected to appear before Orbán on May 14. Magyar said Orbán would deliver a protest and ask “when Russia and Vladimir Putin plan to finally end this bloody war, which began more than four years ago.”

Magyar, speaking on behalf of the government, condemned the attack on Zakarpattia, a region that is home to a significant ethnic Hungarian population. The attack hit the cities of Mukachevo and Uzhhorod, as well as other settlements in the region. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky thanked Magyar for his “concern and strong position.”

Telex noted that Péter Szijjártó, foreign minister in Viktor Orbán’s government, frequently summoned foreign ambassadors, including envoys from the United States, Austria, Germany, Finland, Denmark, and Ukraine. The Russian ambassador, however, had never been summoned to the country’s Foreign Ministry.

Myroslav Biletskyi, head of the Zakarpattia regional military administration, said that on May 13 the region came under its heaviest attack since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. At least 11 drones entered the region’s airspace; some were shot down or radar-lost.

According to the analysts, total oil product shipments reached 4.4 million barrels in April. Of that amount, roughly 2.8 million barrels were Russian, the highest figure in the past year.

The figure is still relatively small compared with Russia’s overall energy exports because it includes only products derived from oil refining, such as diesel, fuel oil, and naphtha, mostly intended for India.

Meanwhile, Russia’s oil exports carried by the “shadow fleet” reached approximately 67 million barrels in April — the highest level in three months. The previous peak was observed in January, at 72.7 million barrels, followed by a sharp drop and then a gradual increase to 50.7 million barrels in February and 64.1 million in March.

Similar estimates of rising oil exports were also provided by the International Energy Agency, cited by Reuters. Compared with March, Russia’s crude oil exports rose by 250,000 barrels per day to about 4.9 million barrels per day, despite production cuts forced by Ukrainian drone strikes on refining and loading facilities.

The increase may have been driven by disruptions to energy supplies from Persian Gulf countries after export routes were blocked during the U.S.-Israeli war against Iran. Amid market turmoil, the U.S. Treasury Department allowed Indian refineries to buy Russian oil for 30 days in first week of the war and later lifted sanctions on sales of Russian oil and oil products loaded onto vessels before March 12.

The latter easing was designed to last one month, and the White House initially did not intend to extend it. Later, however, permission to sell Russian oil already loaded onto tankers at sea was issued again, this time until May 16.

U.S. President Donald Trump indicated this week that Washington could extend the permission once more. Asked by reporters whether the United States could do so, he said the White House would “do whatever is necessary” to stabilize oil prices and promised that energy prices would fall as soon as the war ends.

Since the start of the war in the Middle East, media outlets and analysts have repeatedly noted the economic benefits Moscow has gained from the suspension of exports from the region. In early May, Bloomberg reported that revenue from Russian oil exports had risen to its highest level since February 2022, when Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, while Russian fuel oil shipments to Singapore had reached a 10-year high.

Late payments

Delays in payment for goods and services – a chronic illness of Russian business – are now worsening. This spring, overdue payments from clients and customers exceeded 8 trillion rubles for the first time, signaling a broader deterioration in companies’ financial health.

The war has pushed the situation to the point of absurdity. One might assume that window installers would be thriving at least in border regions, where blast waves regularly shatter glass. In reality, the opposite is true.

“Yes, that logic makes sense. But in practice, many no longer take on this kind of work because they don’t get paid,” a window installation specialist from Belgorod told The Insider. According to him, the government theoretically compensates residents for the damage, but in practice the money gets stuck in limbo: “Newcomers arrive, enthusiasts who think they’ll make good money from this. But they don’t last long – they run into the fact that payments never come through, and they leave.”

The fate of TransYuzhStroy (TUS) – the largest construction company in Belgorod Region, affiliated with the regional authorities – is revealing. Such structures have traditionally benefited from state contracts. But an entrepreneur connected to the regional government, who requested anonymity, sees it differently: “TUS doesn’t pay many of my people, saying that it itself hasn’t been paid.”

“Working with the state is very difficult and dangerous,” the businessman adds. “The scandal over the fortification lines are proof of that.” He is referring to fraud charges related to the construction of defensive fortifications brought against former First Deputy Director of the Russian National Guard Viktor Strigunov and former Deputy Governor of Belgorod Region Rustem Zainullin. A court ordered them to pay nearly 1 billion rubles.

Labor shortages

The shortage of workers is a problem that major enterprises had been complaining about even before the full-scale war. In recent years, it has worsened because of the outflow of specialists abroad, people leaving for the front, tighter migration laws, and the natural demographic decline. The stagnating economy has slightly eased the severity of the situation – companies unable to invest in development and expansion simply do not need more employees. But for those still operating, the problem remains.

The labor shortage is particularly acute in construction. Roman, from Belgorod, says that previously 40–50% of the region’s skilled specialists came from Ukraine. Overall, more than 80,000 working-age specialists have left Belgorod Region over the past four years.

The owner of a large industrial enterprise in the region describes the state of his business as “catastrophic”: “All of 2025 was a year of anxious expectation and survival. The forecasts for 2026 are bleak. Before 2022, there was a streak of good years. Overall, this is Drinkins’s nosedive – every year is worse than the previous one.” Those trying to keep their teams together are paying employees at a loss. “But it doesn’t help. Workers leave anyway, businesses shut down anyway.”

“Construction has collapsed, logistics have slumped, commercial property rentals have fallen. The first companies to close are those tied to major investments. The last are liquor stores,” the industrial business owner says, describing the situation. If measured not in inflation-swollen rubles but in physical indicators – how much has been built, transported, or rented out – he estimates the decline across industries at 30–40%, and in some sectors at 50–60%.

Expensive credit and rising prices

The Central Bank’s high interest rate – and, consequently, the high lending rates charged by commercial banks – is a nationwide problem in Russia. But it hits agriculture especially hard: machinery is constantly needed, it is expensive, and farming without it is impossible. Loans at 25–30% interest are taken only in cases of urgent necessity: with the profitability of a small farm at around 10%, repayments amount to three times what the business earns. Average profitability in Russia’s agricultural sector fell from 23% before the war to 15% in 2025.

The year 2025 proved unprecedented: the sector produced goods worth 10.63 trillion rubles – and suffered record losses of more than 100 billion rubles. Costs rose faster than revenue: fertilizers, spare parts, fuel, and credit all became more expensive, while grain purchase prices remained low. Every year, around 6,000–7,000 farms leave the market. Experts predict that their number will shrink by another 20–30% within the next two to three years.

Every year, around 6,000–7,000 farms leave the market

At the very start of the war, a sprayer belonging to someone else burned down in a field owned by Denis (name changed), a farmer from Voronezh Region. The large machine with long booms was struck after being mistaken for military equipment. “The owners had bought it on credit, traveled around regions – Voronezh, Lipetsk – and lived off that work. They came to my place to do a job, and it got destroyed. I don’t know how they’re surviving now.” Buying new machinery has since become a problem: imported equipment has become more expensive because of sanctions, while loans for domestic machinery are unaffordable because of interest rates.

In January, Denis returned from Thailand, where he had gone for the New Year holidays, and noticed a sharp jump in prices: “During the vacation, everything became noticeably more expensive. Before, I hardly paid attention to how much things cost in stores, but now I’ve started comparing prices.”

Builder Roman complains about the same thing: “Aerobel, the block manufacturer, raised prices, concrete and brick became more expensive.” The market for private homes (individual housing construction, or IHC) in his region has “dried up” over the four years of war. One of the market’s main drivers –the Belgorod Mortgage Corporation – has run out of steam: it cut staff, moved into a more modest office, and now mainly deals with lawsuits against unscrupulous developers. “The price of land plots has risen to market levels – there’s no point in the program anymore,” Roman adds, citing another reason.

Under such conditions, many find it more profitable to put their assets to use elsewhere and change occupations. Farmer Denis spent six years growing sunflowers, barley, and wheat. This spring, he leased his land for three years to a large agricultural holding: “At the end of 2025, I simply earned nothing.” He did not own machinery himself and rented it instead, but because of the rising cost of spare parts and everything else, it became unprofitable. Three out of four neighboring farms did the same. The freed-up land is being taken over by Prodimpex and similar large business entities.

Denis believes he was lucky with the lease deal: previously, land rented for 8,000 rubles per hectare, while he managed to lease it out for 14,000. Those who signed contracts earlier remain stuck with old terms – without inflation indexation. Hence a new grassroots practice: lease agreements now include “indexation based on prices at Pyaterochka.” “They take any three products – eggs, milk, and something else –and fix the prices. If milk goes up, the rent goes up. That’s how people protect themselves,” Denis explains. In this system, there is no place for Rosstat: official inflation figures are not trusted.

“It feels like everything will end in total ruin. Sometimes you think: let the collapse happen faster so we can start over. Living like this means constant stress, and there isn’t even a hint of improvement,” Denis concludes.

Rising prices are hurting even industries where death itself would seem to guarantee demand. Among entrepreneurs, a grim mantra is circulating: the only people with money now are funeral directors. At first glance, that appears true. Russia’s five largest funeral companies generated nearly 15 billion rubles in revenue in 2024 – 24% more than a year earlier.

However, if the market is viewed as a whole, growth has been slowing for two consecutive years: in 2025, revenue rose by only 3.3% – twice as weak as the 2024 figure and below inflation. The reason is the same as everywhere else: rising prices are eroding real demand. More and more families are choosing only the minimum set of services and relying on state subsidies. The nominal revenue growth has instead been driven by the cost of goods and services: during the war, the price of a coffin rose by 90%, while grave digging became 56% more expensive.

The tax squeeze

Tax reform has created a trap for small businesses: as soon as turnover exceeds 15 million rubles, VAT kicks in – wiping out already thin profit margins. Since 2026, the conditions of the patent taxation system have also become stricter: previously, the regime was available to businesses with annual revenue of up to 60 million rubles, but now the threshold has been cut to 20 million. Entrepreneurs have found their own solution: splitting up operations. Registering sole proprietorships in relatives’ names, opening second bank accounts, asking clients to transfer money directly – in other words, moving into the shadow economy.

According to Russia’s Federal Tax Service (FNS), the number of companies established in Russia fell by 20% in 2025. A study by the Public Opinion Foundation and the Higher School of Economics, titled “Small Business Longitudinal Study,” showed that nearly one-third of small businesses are considering closure or sale, while entrepreneurs’ expectations for the first quarter of 2026 were the worst recorded over the entire observation period. Some 52% believe their business conditions will deteriorate. According to the Center for Strategic Research, 75% of SMEs have no profit left for development.

Nearly one-third of small businesses are considering closure or sale – expectations for the start of 2026 were the worst over the entire observation period

Alexander (name changed), the owner of a tire repair shop in one of the regions of Russia’s Central Federal District, is struggling to figure out how to avoid falling under the new law. His business margin is 15–20%. If turnover crosses the threshold, “then it’s simply over.” “I honestly wonder what the government is trying to achieve with this. Because it still won’t get more money – people will start hiding their legal income,” he says. “Nobody is growing. Everyone is trying desperately not to fall under the new VAT law.”

At the same time, expensive credit is weighing on him just as heavily as on everyone else. With profitability at 20%, loans carrying annual interest rates of 25–30% mean having to pay back more than the business earns. Investing in expansion makes no sense – it is more profitable to put the money in a bank deposit. This is how small business in Russia is freezing in place: not collapsing all at once, but ceasing to grow, shrinking, and splitting into smaller entities.

In addition, Alexander gauges the state of the industry through his suppliers. They are connected to major tire plants that plan budgets based on projected demand. The picture is bleak: “Last year – production down 20%, this year – down another 10%.” Factories are cutting capacity because declines are being recorded everywhere.

The government breaks things – IT fixes them

There is one sector where the war, sanctions, and government policy are producing a completely different effect: Western software is being replaced with Russian alternatives, website blocks and censorship are disrupting familiar services, and every new restriction imposed by Roskomnadzor creates demand for circumvention tools.

The IT sector is making money from everything at once –from import substitution, from fixing what the government itself has broken, from creating new tools to replace banned services and to bypass restrictions. Over five years, Russia’s IT market has doubled, reaching 4 trillion rubles by the end of 2025. The cybersecurity market nearly doubled as well – from 193 billion rubles in 2022 to 374 billion in 2025. The number of new IT businesses has risen by 17% since the beginning of 2025 alone.

The mechanism behind this growth is government-created chaos: every block, every forced transition from Western software to domestic alternatives, every new Roskomnadzor requirement – all of it becomes someone’s revenue stream. In July 2025, Russia recorded 2,099 internet shutdowns in a single month – more than the entire world combined throughout all of 2024. In February 2026, Roskomnadzor began slowing down Telegram across the country, and by March the messenger had stopped working for many users without a VPN. According to Rostelecom, mobile service malfunctioned or disappeared entirely in 90% of Russia’s regions in March 2026. In Moscow, demand rose for paper maps, pagers, and landline telephones.

The mechanism behind the growth is government-created chaos: every block and every new Roskomnadzor requirement becomes someone’s revenue stream

“The government is doing all sorts of strange things with digital systems right now. And because of that, we’re constantly fixing something. All my clients are endlessly updating things, reintegrating systems, turning something back on after it shut off and won’t restart,” says the commercial director of a St. Petersburg IT company specializing in custom software development and warehouse logistics optimization.

When Telegram came under pressure, his company started making money by creating bots for MAX. When tax rules changed, he spent two months restructuring the company’s entire contract base in order to qualify for preferential tax treatment for IT firms. “You could sit around saying Putin, the Digital Development Ministry, or Roskomnadzor were to blame. Or you could stop whining,” the businessman says, trying to sound upbeat.

But even in his voice there is confusion when the conversation turns to “white lists” – lists of websites accessible during a complete mobile internet shutdown. “I still don’t really understand how this mechanism works. Sometimes it feels to me as though there are Ukrainian spies sitting in the State Duma. In that sense, yes, the prospects are worrying. Personally, I don’t see anyone at the government level offering any genuinely workable solutions.” But he quickly regains his composure: “And from a business point of view –so what? Is this the first time? You grab a bigger shovel and throw the dirt farther away. That’s the whole business.”

“All that may be left of your workers are burning sneakers”

Shelling deep inside Russia primarily affects large businesses: ports, oil refiners, and defense industry enterprises. Flight delays caused by drone threats are not only a problem for airlines, but also for tour operators and the hotel industry. But in border regions, nationwide problems are compounded by something found nowhere else: even work at non-strategic facilities has become physically dangerous.

Roman (name changed), the owner of a Belgorod company that builds private homes, refuses on principle to take government contracts for housing reconstruction in Shebekinoand other affected districts: “They promise three or four times the normal rates there, but it’s dangerous – tomorrow all that may be left of your workers are burning sneakers. And there’s also the risk of becoming the scapegoat, because wherever government money is involved, there are immediately kickbacks, the FSB, and problems.”

“Wherever government money is involved, there are immediately kickbacks, the FSB, and problems”

According to city authorities, half of the 22 multi-story residential construction sites in Belgorod have effectively been frozen – over three years, active projects have utilized only 9% of their potential capacity. Investment in the regional economy fell by 14.6% in 2025, while investment in fixed capital dropped by 17.7%.

The few who are still making money operate differently: they buy a plot of land, put up a simple one-story shell of a house, and post an ad on Avito. People who received compensation certificates from the Construction Ministry for lost housing buy even these properties. The market is literally being sustained by destruction.

Who profits from the war

When asked whether there are businesses in Russia that have benefited from the war, the business community responds evasively, but in remarkably similar terms.

“There are none in Belgorod Region. And there won’t be any. All of that is idle speculation,” says the owner of an industrial manufacturing business. According to him, there are no companies “close to the feeding trough” – “rather, there are a number of unfortunate people burdened with assets who would gladly leave if they could.”

“The winners are the ones sitting in the hall at meetings of the Russian Union of Industrialists and Entrepreneurs,” says one businessman who asked not to be named. “The people from Rosneft, Gazprom, Kerimov's circle and the rest. Everyone who ‘chipped in for daddy’s birthday party.’ Plus the banks. And those working on Defense Ministry contracts. You won’t find anyone else.”

True, even large businesses are hardly enthusiastic about having to “chip in.” VTB Chairman Andrei Kostin said that “neither the government nor the Central Bank supports” the idea of introducing a windfall tax on banks’ excess profits –and Kostin believes the sector will manage to fend it off.

“Russia is run by large state-run corporations. And the task of small business is not to make money, but to provide employment. If they manage to earn anything, that’s their personal achievement,” a Russian businessman concludes.

Trump, who by then had served roughly half of his first presidential term, broke a rule that all of his predecessors had strictly followed since the days of Franklin Roosevelt: he began asking what Washington could receive from Riyadh in exchange for its provision of military assistance.

The Carter Doctrine

Since the historic meeting between President Roosevelt and Saudi King Abdulaziz Ibn Saud in February 1945, no consequential figure in America had asked such questions. Back then, the two leaders agreed that Saudi Arabia would ensure uninterrupted oil supplies to the West — first and foremost to the United States, of course — while the Americans, in return, would take responsibility for the security of their new Middle Eastern ally.

By the 1980s, the “oil for security” arrangement, also known as the Carter Doctrine,  had become the standard model for U.S. relations with the oil- and gas-rich countries of the Persian Gulf. The concept envisaged active U.S. involvement, including the use of force, to protect its interests in the Middle East — and Washington’s main interest was, of course, the uninterrupted flow of hydrocarbons.

The doctrine worked so well that the U.S. Navy was able to keep the Strait of Hormuz open to shipping even during the Iran–Iraq War of 1980-1988. The Carter Doctrine also played a significant role in the 1991 U.S. intervention in Iraq, as Operation Desert Storm was largely motivated by fears that Baghdad’s occupation of neighboring Kuwait — and a possible further advance by Saddam Hussein’s forces into parts of Saudi Arabia — would lead to an oil shortage.

Overdue response

In 2019, when Saudi Arabia’s critical oil facilities were hit by an unprecedented missile and drone attack, Riyadh had every reason to expect an immediate and powerful U.S. response. In line with the spirit of the doctrine, Washington viewed threats to the oil industry of its Middle Eastern allies as a threat to its own security.

The expected response to the attack would have been American strikes against the Houthis — Iranian proxies in Yemen who were immediately suspected of carrying out the attack — or even against Iran itself. After all, without Tehran’s technologies and weapons, the Houthis would not have been able to pull off such a large-scale operation — as a result of the attack, global oil production fell by as much as 5% for several months.

Instead, Trump asked the Saudis what they could offer him in exchange for U.S. intervention. Later, the United States did send additional radars to the Persian Gulf and increased its troop presence there, but this response was delayed and far less powerful than Riyadh had expected. Observers even began speaking of the demise of the Carter Doctrine — in other words, the breakdown of Washington’s model of interaction with its Middle Eastern allies.

These were not just empty words. Without rupturing their alliance with the United States, Middle Eastern countries focused on building up their capacity for self-defense, albeit without overly jeopardizing relations with Washington, as Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and several other Gulf states are critically dependent on the United States for the maintenance and repair of their air defense systems, aircraft, and armored vehicles, since practically their entire stock of weapons is produced in America.

Saudi Arabia and Kuwait are critically dependent on the U.S. for the maintenance and repair of their American-made air defense systems, aircraft, and armored vehicles

Probably the most notable of these “additional” alliances is the Saudi–Pakistani partnership. In September 2025, the two states signed a Strategic Mutual Defense Treaty. Its full text has never been published, but it is known that under its auspices several thousand Pakistani troops are permanently stationed in Saudi Arabia. Their official objective is to train Saudi soldiers and integrate the two national military command-and-control systems.

Furthermore, an attack on either country of the alliance would be considered an attack on both, requiring an immediate response from the other ally. In other words, Saudi Arabia has come under the nuclear “umbrella” of Pakistan, which has officially maintained a nuclear arsenal since the 1990s, along with a significant fleet of delivery systems.

In the meantime, without much publicity, Saudi Arabia and other Gulf states have been forging new security alliances with a range of other states, most notably Turkey and China. This effort noticeably accelerated after the U.S. attack on Iran, a move all the more disruptive due to the fact that Washington decided not to announce it in advance to any of its regional allies, leaving them exceptionally vulnerable to Iranian counterattacks.

Alliances with China: from human shield to cloud services

After the outbreak of hostilities, China presented its Arab partners with a reliable option for the vital transport of oil through the Strait of Hormuz, which had been blocked by Iran. Beijing reached a behind-the-scenes agreement with Tehran that tankers with Chinese crews, along with those carrying oil to China, would be provided with a green corridor, through which China is known to be receiving Iraqi and Saudi oil.

Kuwait, meanwhile, went as far as to use Chinese citizens as a human shield against Iranian attacks. In March, the authorities in Kuwait City requested emergency assistance from Chinese companies to complete the construction of a port in the Persian Gulf. Officially, of course, Kuwait does not acknowledge that inviting Chinese nationals is a security measure, but it remains the most plausible explanation for its sudden desire to urgently complete a port that is not scheduled for completion until the mid-2030s.

Saudi Arabia and the UAE supported China’s peace plan despite the fact that it clearly contradicts Trump’s goals. Beijing calls for respect of Iran’s sovereignty and an end to forcible regime change attempts, and also urges active involvement of the United Nations in resolving the region’s problems. The latter is essentially a diplomatically phrased call to strip the United States of its status as the main enforcer in the Middle East.

The last item of the Chinese peace plan is a diplomatically phrased call to strip the U. S. of its status as the main enforcer in the Middle East

In some sectors, Washington is already beginning to lose its position as the region’s go-to partner. By the end of 2026, trade turnover between the Gulf countries and China is expected to exceed that with the United States and the European Union combined. Despite its role as the dominant currency for energy supply settlements, the dollar is facing increasing competition from Arab currencies and the yuan. And China is demonstrating readiness for increasingly deep cooperation.

The U.S. cannot be happy about these trends. Even more infuriating for Washington is the increasingly close technical cooperation between Arab states and Beijing. Following Iranian missile and drone strikes on American data centers in the UAE and Bahrain, China began promoting its capacities as a safer, more reliable alternative. The Chinese corporation Huawei, which is under U.S. sanctions, has even started using the phrase “regional disruptions” in advertising its cloud services, pointing out that its infrastructure is unaffected by such disruptions.

Huawei, which Washington regards almost as a high-tech arm of Chinese military intelligence, has affected American relations with its Arab partners on several occasions. In 2021, negotiations on the supply of American F-35 fighter jets to the UAE were frozen due to Abu Dhabi’s reluctance to abandon cooperation with the Chinese corporation, which had secured a contract to build mobile phone networks in the UAE. Then, in 2025, negotiations on the supply of F-35s to Saudi Arabia stalled for the same reason. The Americans fear that a Huawei mobile network covering the territory of both Gulf states could be used to identify and steal sensitive technologies used in the production of the aircraft.

Nevertheless, against the backdrop of the war in Iran, several Arab states are expanding their cooperation with Huawei. In addition, for several years Saudi Arabia has been purchasing Chinese laser air-defense systems, and the U.S. ban on selling strike drones to the Middle East has led several Gulf states to acquire Chinese alternatives instead.

The unexpected war has also accelerated the integration of Chinese AI solutions within Arab states’ armed forces for use in analyzing battlefield conditions and processing intelligence data. This trend undermines the Trump administration’s efforts to promote American AI for military and dual-use applications.

The Americans are trying to counter the evident tilt of its Middle Eastern partners toward China by offering F-35s in exchange for the abandonment of cooperation with Huawei.

It has been argued that China could begin supplying Iran with modern radar systems and man-portable air-defense systems, and American officials caution that such a move would trigger harsh sanctions against Beijing. “China is going to have big problems,” Trump promised — and in his formulation, such threats usually translate into new financial sanctions against both the source of concern and its active trading partners. It would be reasonable to assume that one of the first targets of Trump’s sanctions strike would be the electronic platform mBridge, where Middle Eastern oil is traded in yuan.

Turkey: drones and intelligence

The war has also given a new impetus to cooperation between Arab countries and Turkey, which boasts one of the largest armies in the region, a powerful defense industry, and breakthrough unmanned aviation technologies.

Military-technical cooperation with Turkey can allow Gulf states to close the security gaps revealed by the war against Iran by adding a Turkish drone component to their American-made air-defense networks. Moreover, they would gain the ability to compare limited intelligence data provided by the United States with information coming from Ankara. In addition, with Turkish assistance, Gulf countries would establish their own production lines of drone and missile interception systems.

Several years before the start of the current war, Saudi Arabia signed a $3 billion contract to purchase Turkish Bayraktar drones. Last year, several additional contracts with companies producing weapons and military vehicles were added to this agreement.

Just before the bombing campaign against Iran began on Feb. 28, it was revealed that the Saudis are among the investors in the development of the Turkish KAAN fighter jet. Since the beginning of the conflict, the Turkish Ministry of Foreign Affairs has intensified its cooperation with Gulf states, both as a diplomatic mediator and as an arms exporter. Several other Middle Eastern countries are considering Ankara’s offering of the “Steel Dome” integrated air-defense system, which is being marketed as a more affordable alternative to the American Patriot system.

The growing rapprochement between Washington’s partners and Turkey is unlikely to please the Americans, as Ankara is effectively challenging the U.S. monopoly as the protector of the Persian Gulf states. However, Washington is unlikely to react by threatening “problems” or hinting at sanctions, as it did with China. After all, NATO member Turkey is a long-standing and reliable ally.

Indeed, the parties have every chance of reaching an amicable agreement: Turkey could undertake not to supply the Gulf with intelligence data that could pose a threat to the United States’ own security, and in return, America could agree not to obstruct the Gulf states’ purchase of Turkish radar systems and drones.

Ukraine: trading weapons for investment

Drones will also flow to the Middle East from Ukraine. Arab states are particularly interested in interceptor UAVs capable of destroying heavy kamikaze drones such as Shahed — actively used by both Russia and Iran.

Ukraine has already reached strategic partnership agreements with the UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Qatar to support the production of drones and other military equipment in exchange for investment. This cooperation is clearly not to the liking of the Trump administration, since Ukraine is acting as an independent player and securing additional sources of funding, making Kyiv less vulnerable to pressure from Washington.

In fact, Trump has gradually stripped himself of leverage over Ukraine all on his own. When Kyiv signed the “defense pact” with Gulf states, Ukraine had already been left without direct financial, military, and even diplomatic support from Washington, which had effectively sided with the Kremlin. As a result, the U.S. no longer has any real mechanisms at its disposal to prevent Zelensky from pursuing an independent Middle Eastern policy.

The United States no longer has any real mechanisms to prevent Kyiv from pursuing an independent Middle Eastern policy

Arab states are all the more inclined to increase their cooperation with Ukraine given that Russia has clearly supported Iran in this war. While making loud statements about its readiness to deepen security cooperation with the Arab world, Moscow is maintaining demonstratively warm relations with the very regime responsible for shelling Doha, Riyadh, and other regional centers.

The issue at hand could have other dimensions as well. Iran is reportedly using Russian intelligence data when selecting targets. So far, this concerns only American and Israeli objects “highlighted” by Russians for Iranian missiles. But the satellites that transmit the coordinates of U.S. Navy ships or Israeli military bases to the Iranians could in theory also be used to guide strikes against military or civilian infrastructure in Arab countries.

In addition, Iran — which for several years supplied strike drones for Russia’s daily attacks on Ukrainian cities — is now itself importing Russian drones, according to Western intelligence reports. Meanwhile, the only country in the world with real experience in countering these kamikaze UAVs is Ukraine, one of the key factors behind Kyiv’s growing rapprochement with the Gulf states.

South Korea and India

The war in Iran, which Trump likely hoped would be a brilliant, lightning-fast operation to achieve regime change, has already resulted in the United States losing part of its influence in a region that Americans had long regarded almost as their own backyard. Now even South Korea has committed to supplying the UAE with tens of billions of dollars’ worth of weapons and military vehicles — in addition to the localization of production of its missile systems, air-defense systems, and radars in the UAE and Saudi Arabia as part of an agreement reached prior to the current war. Additionally, France has increased its military presence in the region and may also be prepared to offer its own weapons systems to interested Gulf states.

India, too, is unlikely to remain idle as its adversary Pakistan gains new allies and increases its geopolitical weight. And Israel, with its advanced air-defense systems and highly sophisticated data analysis capabilities, is also becoming an increasingly attractive security partner for Arab states — even those that are yet to recognize the Jewish state.

In short, without realizing it, when Trump launched his war against Iran, he set in motion a cascade of events that will significantly weaken American influence in the Middle East.

Under the bill, Vladimir Putin is given the authority to deploy the army on his own decision to “protect” Russian citizens. Commenting on the law, State Duma Speaker Vyacheslav Volodin said that “Western justice has effectively become a tool of repression against those deemed undesirable.”

As follows from the language of the bill, the amendments will apply to Russians who have been arrested or subjected to criminal or other prosecution pursuant to decisions by courts of foreign states, as well as international judicial bodies “whose jurisdiction is not based on an international treaty of the Russian Federation or a UN Security Council resolution adopted in the exercise of the powers provided for under Chapter VII of the United Nations Charter.”

The amendments will be proposed for the second reading of a bill tightening the requirements for obtaining citizenship. The initiative was introduced to the State Duma in early March. In its original version, the draft stipulated that foreigners would be denied citizenship or a residence permit if they had an unexpunged or outstanding conviction. On May 13, the lower house of parliament passed the bill in its first reading.

The bill had been expected to apply to convictions for any crime. Under the new amendments, foreigners with outstanding convictions could still obtain temporary stay permits, residence permits and citizenship if they were “illegally convicted in other countries for supporting Russia’s policy of countering neo-Nazism and supporting the special military operation” — meaning the full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

“We are confident that, ahead of the second reading, we will have to additionally consider cases of people being unlawfully prosecuted in other countries for supporting the Russian Federation,” Yarovaya said.

The State Duma is considering several other amendments that would tighten migration laws. In early April, State Duma Speaker Vyacheslav Volodin said that MPs planned to double the number of grounds for expelling migrants from Russia, including violations of public order and failure to comply with the demands of police officers and National Guard personnel. 

On the demand side, Ukraine continues to endure relentless Russian missile strikes. This persistent threat runs counter to some of the initial expectations from the early days of the full-scale war. Shortly after the invasion, many expected that sanctions, export controls, and the Russian economy’s inability to replace certain key components like semiconductors would significantly reduce Russia's ability to sustain ballistic missile strikes at a high volume due to the collapse of its domestic missile industry. In October 2022, as sanctions and export controls began to bite, the U.S. State Department announced that “Russian hypersonic ballistic missile production has nearly ceased due to the lack of necessary semiconductors.” And indeed, Russian missile strikes of all kinds declined throughout 2023, perhaps reflecting the depletion of the Russian stockpile, coupled with production challenges.

Shortly after the invasion, many expected that sanctions would significantly reduce Russia's ability to sustain ballistic missile strikes at a high volume

However, this was not to last, as the Russians manoeuvred to circumvent these new constraints. In the fall of 2023, Russia began importing Hwasong-11 missiles, called the KN-23 and -24 by the U.S. intelligence community, from North Korea. Pyongyang even expanded the factory that manufactures and assembles the Hwasong-11 series. While part of that expansion was likely to fill domestic production, the Russian demand signal likely played a role as well.

In addition to importing whole missiles, Russia has succeeded in building networks to evade export controls and acquire key components. They are still able to acquire U.S.-made components for their ballistic missiles, likely through unsanctioned secondary countries like Turkey or China. China appears to have been a big help beyond providing an unsanctioned import path, letting the Russians maintain access to electronics and many other dual-use goods.

Finally, the Russians have recapitalized their domestic missile industry, expanding solid propellant production plants and factories for ballistic missiles like the Iskander. In combination, these measures have allowed the Russians to rebound from the 2023 nadir in their strike volume against Ukraine.

Since then, the number and size of strikes have picked up. In April 2026, the Russians launched more drones and missiles than in any other month of the war. Just a few days before Zelensky’s comments on ABMs, Russia conducted one of its largest drone and missile attacks yet, launching at least 19 ballistic missiles into Ukraine. Not only is there still demand for missile defenses in Ukraine, but that demand is growing significantly as the Russian missile industry rebounds from the effects of sanctions and export controls.

Unreliable partners and a shortage of missiles

Despite these redoubled attacks, the supply side for missile defenses and missile defense interceptors is the likely source of the uncertainty driving Zelensky’s comments about a European ABM solution. Ukraine currently relies on the U.S.-made Patriot Advanced Capability-2 and -3 (PAC-2/3) systems. Patriot batteries have been donated or sold to Ukraine by a number of countries, including the U.S. and Germany. The Patriots are complemented by two SAMP/T batteries made by the Eurosam Consortium, donated by Italy and France.

Unfortunately, the U.S. has shown itself to be a fickle ally and, therefore, an unreliable source of interceptors for Ukraine for two reasons. The first involves U.S. domestic politics, with elements of the Republican Party having revealed themselves to be uninterested in aiding Ukraine in its fight against the Russian invasion. As the Trump administration took over last year, the Pentagon froze aid to Ukraine, and there still is not a solid base of support for Ukraine in the ruling party in Washington, leaving Ukraine dependent on the whims of American domestic politics for its supply of interceptors.

The U.S. has shown itself to be a fickle ally and, therefore, an unreliable source of interceptors for Ukraine

Second is the Trump administration’s appetite for military adventurism. Military operations in the Middle East have cut deeply into Patriot stockpiles, reducing the number available to go to Ukraine. In the wake of Operation Midnight Hammer last June (the U.S. strikes against the Iranian nuclear program that came on the heels of the Israeli-launched 12-Day War), U.S. Patriot batteries in Qatar were drawn into what was then the largest Patriot engagement in history, defending against retaliatory Iranian missile attacks. Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff General Dan Caine didn’t specify how many interceptors were fired during the defense, remarking only that “it was a bunch.” Yet it was enough that some figures among the Pentagon leadership were able to worry about whether there was enough slack in the interceptor stockpile to justify halting shipments to Ukraine.

Operation Epic Fury earlier this year has only compounded this problem. While the 12-Day War was mainly a regional-range missile engagement, with longer-range Iranian missiles launched at Israel being intercepted by regional-range American missile defenses like the SM-3 and THAAD, this new Persian Gulf War has been a much shorter-range affair. The deep reservoir of Iranian short-range ballistic missiles aimed at the Gulf states has consumed vast quantities of American Patriot interceptors. Estimates vary, but an analysis by CSIS suggests that somewhere in the ballpark of 1,060-1,430 were used. It doesn’t help that the U.S. has been using Patriots to intercept Iranian drones like the Shahed-136, which have been fired in very large numbers. The mismatch in cost between the two provoked Representative Ted Lieu to compare those intercepts to “throwing Ferraris at frisbees.” It seems imprudent for Ukraine to rely on key munitions from an ally that has demonstrated a liability to start wars of choice, which are a huge drain on the supply of those essential interceptors.

The deep reservoir of Iranian short-range ballistic missiles aimed at the Gulf states has consumed vast quantities of American Patriot interceptors

The rapid consumption of Patriots during the rounds of fighting between the U.S. and Iran has also underscored the anaemic state of Patriot interceptor production. Lockheed Martin plans to expand throughput to around 2000 PAC-3 interceptors per year by 2030. Annual production rates currently sit at around 600 interceptors, and given that 18 other countries rely on PAC for air and missile defense, Ukraine finds itself bumping elbows with many potential competitors for a rather small production pool.

A similar throughput problem afflicts Ukraine’s other source of ABMs, the SAMP/T. Accounting for serious expansions in the production base for that interceptor, annual deliveries of the ABM-capable versions of the Aster 30 used by the SAMP/T are likely around 190-270. However, as fewer countries rely on that system, there is less competition for deliveries, meaning Ukraine could benefit from much of the expanded production. Ukraine will also be part of the operational testing for the upgraded SAMP/T NG system, which is being developed by Eurosam.

Steps taken to develop a pan-European ABM solution

In the meantime, given these supply-side challenges, it is not surprising that Zelensky is floating a European ABM solution. There is already a proto-European ABM solution, but Ukraine isn’t part of it. German Chancellor Olaf Scholz proposed the European Sky Shield Initiative in 2022 to coordinate air and missile defense procurement on the continent. The Initiative has been controversial, drawing criticism from French President Macron, for instance, for failing to prioritize European-made systems like SAMP/T over American-made Patriots or Israeli-made Arrows. Macron complained that by buying American, the Germans were “preparing the problems of tomorrow!”

Marcon’s issue with Sky Shield comports with long-standing French concerns about the U.S. having a monopoly on key defense technologies, and ABM in particular, dating back to even before Reagan’s Strategic Defense Initiative. Despite French frustrations, the ESSI has expanded to include 24 countries, including non-NATO members Austria and Switzerland.

The growth of ESSI reflects a clear-eyed assessment by many European countries of the threat posed by Russia's missile arsenal. The invasion of Ukraine, which Scholz characterized as a “Zeitenwende,” or historic turning point, demonstrated the inadequacy of continental defenses against a mature missile force. While the NATO Integrated Air Defense System and the Aegis Ashore installations in Poland and Romania, in particular, represent good foundations, they were not commensurate with the threat. The initial deficit in the face of the Zeitenwende has become more acute as Germany and others have transferred large numbers of air defense systems and missile defense interceptors, drawing down national stocks. This is not to say they should not have sent those systems to Ukraine — quite the opposite. But there is now a clear space for ESSI to help replenish air and missile defenses in Europe in a consistent and coordinated fashion to address the gap between the enduring Russian missile industry and European interceptor stockpiles. 

The growth of ESSI reflects a clear-eyed assessment by many European countries of the threat posed by Russia's missile arsenal

The fundamental economics of missile defense, the simple fact that offensive missiles will almost always be much cheaper than defensive interceptors, means expanded defenses must be complemented by capable offensive forces. As the 12-Day War and Operation Epic Fury demonstrated, perhaps the best missile defense is a strong anti-missile offense. Nevertheless, ESSI is a good first step toward redressing this divergence.

Causes for optimism

While the initiative will provide some level of coordination for procurement, it is not an industrial policy focused on expanding interceptor production, nor have there been reports that Ukraine will join soon. While ESSI helps coordinate air and missile defense projects across the continent, it does not finance new production lines. Though that might be a knock-on effect of coordinated purchasing, it is not a direct investment in ABM production. This reality means ESSI is not a solution to the near- and medium-term Russian missile problem Zelensky and the Ukrainians face, even if Ukraine were to join — hence the Ukrainian President’s call for a European ABM system.

Returning to that call, the paucity of details in the proposal (if it can even be called that) makes it hard to tell whether it will produce a meaningful initiative. ESSI demonstrates that Europe is paying more attention to missile defense in the wake of the invasion, and I’m sure states are feeling even more pressure as the U.S. burns through interceptors at an astonishing clip in the Middle East. Yet it is still unclear what exactly Zelensky is asking for. Is it an integrated missile defense architecture for Europe? A large-volume production ABM akin to Patriot? I believe it is probably the latter, but we won’t know until more details emerge. The level of detail in any proposal that comes out of this conversation will be the best gauge of whether Zelenzky’s call to action has momentum and could translate into policy and programming. If some sort of framework or roadmap emerges with specifics, that would be a positive sign.

The good news is that investment is already happening, and it is happening with Ukraine. Eurosam is expanding its production lines for SAMP/T to increase throughput, and the Ukrainians will have the chance to test the upgraded SAMP/T NG against Russian missiles. This collaboration isn’t only altruistic; it will help strengthen the next generation of ABMs, which seem to be Europe’s best bet for building a continental ABM system. While other European states can offer hardware, the Ukrainians can offer experience, operational testing, and hard performance data to improve current and future ABMs. In an ideal world, this would be the start of a sustained effort to grapple with the supply side problems that Ukraine — and Europe more broadly — faces in their effort to defend against Russian ballistic missiles in a world where the U.S. is a less reliable partner.

Averin signed a contract with Russia’s Defense Ministry in early January and trained as a drone operator. His foster mother, Oksana Afanasyeva, said his training ended in late March. On April 2, he called her for the last time and said he was going somewhere with “no network coverage.” On April 8, she was told her son had been killed by mortar fire.

“The boy spent three months training how to fly drones, and then they sent him into an assault, into the worst meat grinder — someone who had never served in the army,” Afanasyeva said. She said Averin had wanted to serve in the military but had not been accepted: “They said he was mentally unstable or something. He deceived me, said he had gone to earn money at [retail platform] Wildberries. And when I found out he had signed a [military] contract, I nearly lost my mind.”

Valery Averin was raised in an orphanage until age 11, then placed with a foster family. At the time he signed the contract with the Russian armed forces, he was in his final year at the Buryat Republican Technical Vocational School of Construction and Industrial Technologies.

Russia’s Defense Ministry announced the creation of the Unmanned Systems Forces in mid-2025, establishing a counterpart to the military branch created in Ukraine in early 2024. A campaign to recruit students from educational institutions across the country soon followed.

The Insider has reported that Russian college students are being drawn into service with promises of large payments or tuition-free places, while also facing threats of expulsion or being barred from exams.

This version is reportedly contained in the case files of the Spanish probe into the incident. Investigators suggested that the 50-by-50-centimeter breach in the cargo ship’s hull was likely caused by a Barracuda-type torpedo. Such torpedoes are possessed by Russia, Iran, the United States, and several NATO allies.

Meanwhile, analysts interviewed by the outlet suggested that the incident may have been caused by a magnetic mine planted on the ship’s hull.

Barracuda is a high-speed torpedo that generates an air bubble in front of itself, reducing drag resistance. According to CNN, it could have struck the vessel silently: the Russian captain reportedly told investigators that he heard neither an impact nor an explosion on Dec. 22, when the ship first began to slow down. Only a day later did the crew hear three explosions in the engine room, which killed two crew members. Their bodies were never recovered. 

Ursa Major departed from the port of Ust-Luga on Dec. 11, 2024. On board were two large hatch covers, 129 empty containers, and two large Liebherr cranes. Shortly before the voyage, the vessel’s owner, state-owned transport operator Oboronlogistika, had obtained a license to transport nuclear materials.

The vessel was sailing along the coasts of France and Spain. After sharply reducing the speed on Dec. 22, Ursa Major abruptly veered off course about 24 hours later and issued a distress signal. Three explosions occurred on its starboard side, causing the ship to list. Fourteen surviving crew members evacuated in a lifeboat and were rescued by a Spanish salvage vessel.

One of the accompanying Russian vessels, Ivan Gren, reportedly demanded that all ships keep their distance from Ursa Major and return the rescued crew members. Spanish rescue services, however, insisted on continuing the operation: at that point, the vessel appeared stable and was unlikely to sink anytime soon, a source familiar with the investigation told CNN.

However, by the evening of Dec. 23, Ursa Major had completely sunk beneath the water. Earlier that evening, Ivan Gren reportedly fired a series of red signal flares over the site of the incident, after which four explosions followed, and the vessel went down. Seismologists recorded seismic signals consistent with underwater mines or quarry-style explosions.

The crew members were questioned by Spanish police and investigators. The ship’s captain, Igor Anisimov, reportedly admitted that the vessel was carrying components for two nuclear reactors similar to nuclear naval propulsion units. He believed the ship was ultimately bound for the North Korean port of Rason, although Vladivostok had originally been declared as the destination.

Spanish investigators also pointed to North Korea’s status as the Kremlin’s strategic ally. One of the theories explored during the investigation was that the cargo may have included VM-4SG reactors, which are commonly used in Russian Project 667 nuclear submarines equipped with ballistic missiles. However, there is insufficient evidence to conclusively support this claim.

The Spanish investigation also suggested that a lengthy sea voyage would have been unlikely if the goal had simply been to deliver two cranes, hundreds of empty containers, and two large hatch covers to Vladivostok. Investigators speculated that the cranes may have been on board to assist in unloading a secret cargo upon arrival in Rason.

The ship’s crew returned to Russia a few days later. About a week afterward, Russian military vessels reportedly returned to the site of the incident: the research vessel Yantar, which has been accused of espionage activities, spent five days over the wreck of the cargo ship. During that same period, four more explosions were detected in the area, allegedly targeting the wreckage of the vessel on the seabed.

AI is no longer the future of war. Instead, it is part and parcel of any modern conflict. Certainly, the companies building these AI platforms view their growth as unescapable. As Palantir, one of the leading AI providers to the U.S. Department of Defense, asserted, “The question is not whether A.I. weapons will be built; it is who will build them and for what purpose.”

The question is not whether A.I. weapons will be built; it is who will build them and for what purpose

U.S. Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth and Claude LLM developer Anthropic are currently involved in discussions that will have wide-ranging consequences. Decisions made by militaries — about what developers they use, the algorithms they rely on, and how their military personnel integrate the systems — will determine whether AI leads to more or less instability. AI can create remarkable advantages on the battlefield, enable logistics and mobilization, and augment early warning. It may also help make war more discriminate and decrease the danger of emotions like fear, anger, or even fatigue, all of which can lead to violations of the laws of armed conflict. In short, the choices made by militaries and AI developers today will shape whether states can harness the power of AI for deterrence and stability or whether the technology will end up driving states to war.

Confidence and overconfidence, technology, and war

Perhaps the greatest danger of any emerging technology is that new technologies shift the balance of power so profoundly that states believe they either have an advantage or are so inherently vulnerable that they must attack. While technologies rarely create immediate, enduring advantages that fundamentally change who can take and hold territory, the lure of the possibility is devastatingly powerful. Confidence, and overconfidence, in what an emerging technology can do on the battlefield can make states more likely to launch preemptive strikes, undertake offensive campaigns, or fail to anticipate how a technology might go awry. Indeed, in research I conducted on cyber vulnerabilities and conflict, I found that players’ routine overestimation of offensive cyber capabilities in wargames led to a greater chance of first strikes on nuclear arsenals.

While technologies rarely create immediate, enduring advantages that fundamentally change who can take and hold territory, the lure of the possibility is devastatingly powerful

The overconfidence technology can inspire when it comes to deciding whether it is worth going on the attack is also exacerbated under certain psychological conditions. The Dunning-Kruger effect, for example, describes a phenomenon in which individuals with less skills or abilities tend to overestimate their capabilities. They don’t know what they don’t know, making them overconfident in tasks in which they have little expertise. As the authors explain, “people who are unskilled in these domains suffer a dual burden: not only do these people reach erroneous conclusions and make unfortunate choices, but their incompetence robs them of the metacognitive ability to realize it.” 

This tendency to overestimate a technology’s capability can likewise come to the fore when decision-makers are faced with situations that have no easy solution, and also when the technology seems to support decisions they already wanted to make. For example, in the cyber wargame I referenced earlier, players were faced with a no-win situation: put on the brink of nuclear conflict, with no clear way of either de-escalating or defeating the enemy. When given a new cyber capability to attack the enemy’s nuclear command, control, and communications, players were willing to suspend disbelief about the technology’s feasibility. Even though the game told players that it wasn’t clear what the scope and duration of the effects of the cyber exploit could be, players wished away the uncertainty and leaned into the technology in the hopes of getting out of the tricky situation. This phenomenon was most powerful with players who had limited knowledge or training with nuclear strategy, and we found that those with limited nuclear expertise had a greater tendency to resort to use of the cyber exploit and attacks on enemy nuclear arsenals.

The AI bubble: Are we overconfident in AI?

Does AI imbue overconfidence? Emerging research suggests this is a possibility, and experiments with young teachers and inexperienced investors suggest that the Dunning-Kruger effect is particularly powerful with AI. Further, many AI agents are designed specifically to engender confidence in their users, leading AI agents to both underestimate the uncertainty of their own recommendations and to intentionally obfuscate that uncertainty to users. This leads to overconfident AI models and agents that then overconfidently present information to users who may — based on experience, beliefs, or personality — already be primed to put more faith in the technology than they perhaps should.

This confidence in the power of technology is concerning because, despite extraordinary progress with AI, there are fundamental concerns about the safety and reliability of existing AI systems. Research has found that AI itself can be overconfident when faced with uncertainty — when placed in a game of Go, the AI agent took risky offensive plays with sometimes catastrophic results. Further, wargames played with AI agents (as compared with to human players) demonstrated not only a pattern of escalation, but also the fragility of the models and tendency to hallucination when asked to iterate over time.

Despite extraordinary progress with AI, there are fundamental concerns about the safety and reliability of existing AI systems

The limitations of AI in lab and non-conflict environments will become dangerous vulnerabilities in war when models, training data, and users will be targeted, manipulated, and deceived. Users, inexperienced with interrogating AI, may find themselves in a scenario of binary trust in the AI tools they rely on to fight war. Trusting everything the machine is telling a user may lead to overconfidence, accidents, and inadvertent pathways to war. On the other hand, however, trusting nothing will leave militaries dead in the water, unable to respond when they don’t know what they can believe from AI tools.

This will be especially dangerous for young military personnel — new to combat, primed for the Dunning-Kruger Effect, and less likely to push back against AI errors in complicated military systems. Similarly, new decision-makers without significant military experience will be vulnerable to the Dunning-Kruger Effect and therefore may be more confident in AI assessments that present optimistic beliefs about the ease of victory. The applicability of the Dunning-Kruger Effect to these important populations demonstrate how even with the inclusion of “human control” in the most dangerous and violent weapons decisions — like the choice to go nuclear — young missile silo operators or new commanders-in-chief may fail to properly understand the uncertainty of AI.

Overconfidence, the machine, and authoritarian regimes

Is this overconfidence in AI more likely to occur in some types of regimes than others?  And how might that manifest on the battlefield? Scholarship on the impact of regime type on military effectiveness finds that authoritarian regimes are less likely to trust their militaries and, therefore, they build less capable militaries. This occurs for a variety of reasons but much of the phenomenon stems back to trust and how a lack of trust in military subordinates leads authoritarian regimes to consolidate control at the highest level, making their forces less resilient and adaptive.

The tendency for authoritarian regimes to distrust their military leaders has significant implications for AI. If a political leader does not believe their subordinates will comply with orders, they may be more likely to use loyal AI agents as a substitute for humans. Those AI agents, designed to defer and support the regime, will likely exaggerate sycophantic tendencies and buttress authoritarian leaders’ desired policies. Further, regimes can invest in AI agents developed to optimize regime goals without ethical concerns, engineering out human emotions like empathy, disgust, or horror and thereby remove some of the most important factors limiting the use of violence. Imagine, for example, a deadhand AI developed not just as a response to an adversary’s first strike, but also as a way for leaders to ensure that human subordinates will push the button in situations when all minimum conditions doing so are present.

The biggest danger of AI is humans

Like many technologies, the danger of AI is inherently human: how we use and develop machines as agents of our worst tendencies. After the horrors of World War I, scholars tried to make sense of how a war that made no sense could have killed millions. One of the early explanations was technology — that railroads, telegraphs, and steam had built arsenals that necessitated a war no one wanted. However, despite the desire to defer guilt to the machines, it was humans who made the choices to build those arsenals. It was great men like Kaiser Wilhelm who believed they could use those technologies to win a war, the costs of which they significantly underestimated. 

The danger of AI is inherently human: how we use and develop machines as agents of our worst tendencies

Today, humans will make decisions about how we build AI arsenals, how we use those arsenals in war, and what role they play in the most important decisions — including the decision to embark on nuclear war. Teaching decision-makers about the limitations of the technology and training users to interrogate AI will decrease the dangers of overconfidence, while prioritizing safety within development will decrease the possibility of accidental failures. Together, human agency over the inevitability of the technology can steer its adoption to safer integration of that technology in war.

Efimov’s laboratory at Northwestern University studies the mechanisms of cardiovascular diseases and develops new diagnostic and therapeutic methods, including implantable, interventional, and wearable bioelectronic devices for treating heart disease.

In 2025, Efimov co-led a Northwestern University study focused on developing the world’s smallest pacemaker. The device is smaller than a grain of rice and can be injected into the body with a syringe. It is activated by light pulses from a soft wearable sensor placed on the patient’s chest and dissolves inside the body once temporary cardiac pacing is no longer needed. The study was published in the journal Nature, and the device was tested on animal models and on human hearts obtained from deceased organ donors.

The pacemaker is intended primarily for newborns with congenital heart defects, who often require temporary cardiac pacing after surgery. “Our main motivation was children,” Efimov said in a Northwestern University release. According to him, about 1% of children are born with congenital heart defects, and many of them need pacing after surgery – only for a few days, but that period is critically important.

TIME included the millimeter-sized pacemaker developed by the scientists in its list of the best inventions of 2025, noting that the wireless dissolvable device could change the treatment of congenital heart defects in children, as conventional temporary pacemakers with wires are associated with risks of tissue scarring and other complications.

In an interview with the independent Russian outlet T-invariant, Efimov explained that in conventional temporary pacemakers used after heart surgery, the electrodes are attached to the heart, with wires brought outside the body and removed about a week later. In some cases, this procedure damages the heart muscle. “Our goal was to create a miniature device that would not have to be removed from the chest cavity. It would dissolve on its own once it was no longer needed,” Efimov said.

According to Efimov, the device has not yet entered clinical practice: in order to begin human trials, researchers must submit an application to the U.S. Food and Drug Administration and gather additional safety and reliability data. Efimov said that an optimistic timeline for the wide adoption of the new technology is about five years.

In the same interview, he said that 99% of members of the Russian-American Science Association (RASA) oppose the war and stand with Ukraine, and that the association is helping scientists and students who left Russia after the start of the full-scale invasion.

In a conversation with The Insider, Igor Efimov linked the Justice Ministry’s decision to his work with the Russian-American Science Association, which had previously been designated an “undesirable organization”:

“It was expected. Quite recently, the Russian-American Science Association was declared an ‘undesirable organization.’ I was one of its founders and its first president. In addition, I have never concealed the fact that I do not consider the current Russian government legitimate. So none of this comes as a surprise to me.

It will not affect my life in any way. I have practically nothing left in Russia: no property or other ties. I had an honorary affiliation with the Moscow Institute of Physics and Technology, my alma mater, but when the full-scale war began, I wrote to Rector Dmitry Livanov the very next day saying that I was severing all ties with MIPT because my relatives were being bombed. I have family living in Ukraine – in Poltava and Kyiv. They were literally being bombed that day.

It reminds me of what happened a hundred years ago. Chicago, where I now live, was once home to Academician Vladimir Ipatieff. After the revolution, he stayed in Russia, despite being a monarchist, a lieutenant general in the tsarist army, and a member of the Imperial Academy of Sciences, because he considered himself a patriot. He helped build the chemical industry, but in 1930 he realized he would soon be arrested, and so he had to leave. In 1937 he was publicly expelled from the Academy of Sciences and stripped of Soviet citizenship. There is nothing new about this.”

Efimov’s case is not the first involving a Russian scientist working abroad. This past April, Russia’s Ministry of Justice designated chemist Alexander Kabanov a “foreign agent.” For many years, Kabanov has worked on methods for targeted drug delivery in cancer treatment and is considered to be one of the pioneers in the field of nanotechnology-based drug delivery. He participated in Russia’s “megagrant” program and now heads the Center for Nanotechnology in Drug Delivery at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. The scientist himself also linked the ministry’s decision to his anti-war stance and his role as co-head of the Russian-American Science Association.

Polls in the spring and fall of 2025 recorded record levels of trust among Europeans in the European Union and its institutions. Seventy-four percent of EU citizens believe their individual country has benefited from membership in the bloc, while 52% continent-wide say they trust the EU and the European Commission. Ensuring peace and strengthening security rank first among the benefits of EU membership, with respondents describing the EU as a point of stability in today’s troubled world.

However, with the war in Ukraine showing no sign of ending, 78% of respondents are concerned about the state of EU defense and security, and in almost every European country, Russia is named as the main threat.

At the same time, Europeans no longer view America as a reliable ally and support rearming their own militaries. There are also calls for creating a single European army, but that is an idea that could gain momentum only if relations with the United States deteriorate further. For now, France is negotiating with Germany on the joint development of a nuclear shield, while Poland has even threatened to develop its own nuclear weapons.

These moves may have been influenced by Trump’s actions. The U.S. president demanded that NATO countries raise defense spending from 2% to 5% of GDP while effectively casting doubt on America’s willingness to live up to its obligations under Article 5 of the North Atlantic Treaty, which provides for collective defense. Although the sides reached an interim agreement, a debate began over Europe’s ability to defend itself without U.S. help. The crisis over Greenland and the war against Iran have deepened that debate.

The EU’s strategic autonomy rests on several flagship projects, including a “drone wall” and the creation of a unified air defense network. These systems will be integrated into NATO, but the trend is clear: the EU is standardizing its procurement efforts and plans to produce and buy key weapons inside Europe rather than from third countries. In this way, the European Union is trying to close gaps in its defenses.

For the first time, the EU is introducing a common regulation for the defense industry: the European Defence Industry Programme, or EDIP. The project is expected to establish a joint procurement system and localize the purchase of components. More than half of the products must be of European origin, a necessary condition for access to preferential loans from the new SAFE defense fund. All these initiatives are being discussed against the backdrop of a reassessment of relations with the United States.

The EU is also trying to reduce its dependence on U.S. arms supplies. However, as NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte said shortly after the situation over Greenland was resolved, Europe will not be able to build its defense without U.S. involvement.

The possibility of war with Russia also matters, as it is seen as the most likely short-term threat. Rutte, for example, has previously said Moscow will be ready to attack NATO countries within the next five years. Collective defense will therefore need to make a “quantum leap,” which would require a significant increase in spending.

But Europeans are not giving up on the idea of defending itself. Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen, for example, said Europe’s rearmament and a reduced dependence on the United States should be top priorities for European leaders. Supporters of strategic autonomy also include Emmanuel Macron, Friedrich Merz, Donald Tusk, and even Giorgia Meloni.

Meloni summed up the prevailing mood most vividly:

“Trump has said most emphatically that the US intends to disengage and Europeans must organise to defend themselves: hello Europe. For eighty years we outsourced our security to the U.S. pretending it was free, but there was a price to pay and that price is called conditioning. Freedom has a price. We have spoken in unsuspected times of the need to strengthen our defence and security capacity and claimed when no one else did the need to finally create a European NATO norm of equal strength and respect to the American one.”

Unexpected allies

“Canada is the most European of the non-European countries,” Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney said during his first foreign trip, visiting France and the UK. In doing so, Carney sought to show that the country was returning to its roots and looking for allies where the foundations of Canadian statehood were born.

During the visit, the prime minister made clear that Canada had no intention of becoming “America’s 51st state,” as Trump had proposed. “Canada will never, under any circumstances and in any form, become part of the United States,” he said.

44% of Canadians believe the government should consider the possibility of Canada joining the EU

In a Davos speech that was widely quoted, Carney urged middle powers to stick together: “The strong have their strength. But we also have something — the ability to stop pretending, name reality, strengthen ourselves at home, and act together. That is Canada’s path.”

In practice, this is already taking shape through Canada’s participation in joint defense procurement under SAFE and a series of trade and investment projects with the European Union. Polls show that 44% of Canadians believe the government should consider the possibility of Canada joining the EU.

German politician Joachim Streit has even launched a campaign for Canada’s EU membership, arguing that Canada could become the bloc’s fourth-largest economy by GDP, while its energy resources would help Europe reduce dependence on Russian gas. Aware that he may not succeed, Streit hopes the EU will use the moment to build ties with Canada as deep as those it previously developed with Norway and Switzerland.

However, under Article 49 of the Treaty on European Union, only a “European state” may apply for membership. Canada is not considered one, and the European Parliament clearly has no plans to revise that provision for Canada’s sake, even though EU documents do not provide a clear definition of a “European state.”

The line of candidate countries is long enough without Canada, with nine currently seeking EU membership. The last to join the bloc was Croatia in 2013, and under the European Commission’s latest “enlargement package,” admitting new members is again a priority — one that is expected to show results by 2030, with Montenegro and Albania considered to be the most likely candidates.

The European Union expects Montenegro to close the remaining negotiating chapters by the end of 2026 and join the bloc in 2028. Its accession is expected to serve as a showcase, demonstrating that the EU’s doors remain open to new members. Montenegro’s example is meant to encourage reforms in other countries, especially Moldova and Ukraine. For Ukraine, EU membership is closely tied to security guarantees, President Volodymyr Zelensky has said. Zelensky expects Ukraine to join the EU as early as 2027.

Polls show that more than half of EU citizens support the accession of Montenegro and Ukraine. A comparable level of support exists only for the highly unlikely “Breturn” — Britain’s return to the EU.

Countries that are not at the front of the accession line are also expressing a desire to join the EU. Serbia has held candidate status for 14 years but clearly has not lost hope of moving negotiations forward and recently created a task force to speed up the progress.

For years, the main obstacle has been the normalization of relations between Belgrade and Pristina and the possible recognition of Kosovo’s independence. President Aleksandar Vucic is regularly criticized for trying to maneuver between the EU and Russia, but after the crisis over the sale of Russia’s stake in the Serbian oil company NIS, Belgrade began drifting toward the European Union. Now even Vucic is talking about the possibility of joining the bloc without veto power over its decisions.

Commenting on Vucic’s meeting with EU Enlargement Commissioner Marta Kos, U.S. presidential envoy Richard Grenell wrote on X that Brussels is suffocating European economies and that Serbia’s president should steer the country toward the United States, not the EU. In response, Vucic said Serbia wants a strategic partnership with America but is located on the European continent.

For years, the main obstacle has been the normalization of relations between Belgrade and Pristina and the possible recognition of Kosovo’s independence. President Aleksandar Vucic is regularly criticized for trying to maneuver between the EU and Russia, but after the crisis over the sale of Russia’s stake in the Serbian oil company NIS, Belgrade began drifting toward the European Union. Now even Vucic is talking about the possibility of joining the bloc without veto power over its decisions.

Commenting on Vucic’s meeting with EU Enlargement Commissioner Marta Kos, U.S. presidential envoy Richard Grenell wrote on X that Brussels is suffocating European economies and that Serbia’s president should steer the country toward the United States, not the EU. In response, Vucic said Serbia wants a strategic partnership with America but is located on the European continent.

Friends on the right

A separate issue is Europe’s far right, with which Trump and his team have long sought to build ties. Elon Musk marked the start of his brief but high-profile campaign in support of Germany’s far-right party, the Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), with a post reading “Only the AfD can save Germany.” At the time an ally of Trump and one of the largest donors to his presidential campaign, Musk not only publicly backed the AfD but also took part in one of its rallies.

The German government accused him of trying to influence the election, and Friedrich Merz, then the leader of the conservative opposition, said in February 2025 that Musk’s interference would not go unanswered. Germany did not respond directly, but in late 2025 the social network X was fined 125 million euros in the EU for violating European transparency requirements. Trump responded by again saying that Europe was moving in the wrong direction and should be careful.

Similar ideas appeared in the new U.S. National Security Strategy. According to the document, Europe suppresses political opposition, restricts freedom of speech, and is moving toward “civilizational erasure” due to high immigration and low birthrates.

But the document also notes a positive trend: the growing influence of so-called “patriotic parties.” According to the strategy’s authors, the United States should help them resist what Washington characterizes as Europe’s false course from within. An expanded version of the strategy (the existence of which the White House denies), reportedly contained even more radical statements.

“In the first drafts, it said the United States should do everything possible to persuade Poland and Italy that they do not need to be in the European Union, that they should carry out some kind of Polexit, Italexit, Hunexit. It said they should continue working to effectively divide society by explaining how harmful an actor the European Union is,” commented Petar Tanev, an expert on EU policy.

European right-wing parties, however, no longer always return Trump’s support. The conflict over Greenland, along with various tariff wars, prompted some to distance themselves and others to openly criticize U.S. policy. Among the latter were Alice Weidel of the AfD, whom Musk had previously supported, and Giorgia Meloni, whom the press had described as one of the European leaders closest to Trump.

The conflict over Greenland and Trump’s tariff wars prompted some European right-wing politicians to distance themselves from Washington, while others openly criticized U.S. policy

Any support that exists is highly conditional. Polish President Karol Nawrocki and the prime ministers of Hungary and the Czech Republic said the question of Greenland should be resolved by Denmark and the United States. Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico also distanced himself. Experts say it is easy for the right to align with Trump on ideological issues like migration, climate, and anti-elitism, but difficult on foreign policy, because the national interests of European countries and the United States really do diverge.

No one is rushing to leave

As for the recommendation to leave the EU, various “exits” are used rhetorically by the right but do not have significant public support, even in countries where Euroskeptics effectively hold parliamentary majorities, such as Slovakia, Austria and, until recently, Hungary.

“Hungary will not leave the EU; it will fall apart on its own,” Viktor Orban said in January. However, on April 12, Orban himself fell apart — or, more precisely, his party suffered a crushing defeat.

Orban appears to have succeeded in flattering the Americans, but such statements do not resonate with Hungarians: 82% of those surveyed by Eurobarometer consider EU membership beneficial for the country, and 52% trust the bloc. In fact, Hungarians’ trust in the EU showed more growth in 2025 than that in any other EU country. In addition, 72% of Hungarians support adopting the euro, the highest figure among states outside the eurozone.

The only country to leave the EU so far — the UK via Brexit — is coming to regret the move six years on. More than half of Britons consider Brexit a mistake, and only 11% see it more as a success than a failure. Moreover, 53% would support a “Breturn” — Britain’s return to the European Union.

Within the bloc, such an idea is most popular in Denmark, Germany, Spain, and France, but with one condition: no more special terms. Any future accession could be granted to the UK only as a new membership on standard terms. At the same time, EU citizens support closer cooperation with the UK regardless of its status.

Despite a significant level of Euroskepticism in the UK, Brexit has shown that leaving the EU costs far more than was promised by supporters of the exit. Many now acknowledge that the divorce from the European Union only weakened the country, especially critical given the threat posed by Trump.

Many in the UK now acknowledge that the divorce from the EU has only weakened the country, especially in the face of the threat posed by Trump

Although there is no serious discussion of Breturn underway — as Keir Starmer himself and other officials have stressed — Trump has clearly brought the EU and Britain closer together. In 2025, their defense talks led to the signing of a framework agreement on Britain’s participation in defense initiatives, particularly joint procurement through SAFE.

Together for the long term

Sharp criticism of Europe and attempts by the United States to challenge its autonomy have instead led to stronger collective defense and closer ties — both within the EU and between the bloc and its neighbors. By 2030, Montenegro, Albania, and Ukraine are quite likely to join the EU, while relations with the UK may reach, if not the point of its return, then at least the highest possible level of policy coordination.

Commenting on the U.S. National Security Strategy, former Swedish Prime Minister Carl Bildt noted that, despite all the challenges, no region on Earth provides such a high standard of living to such a large share of its population as the EU. The firmness with which European politicians are pushing back against the United States has moved far beyond the once-memed expression of “concern.” It may all still be more word than deed, but Europeans are slow to get moving — and once they do, the process of change becomes irreversible. Especially now, when they must not only get through Trump’s second term, but also prepare for whoever succeeds him, however unpredictable that person may be.

From OPEC to OPEC+: the history of two partnerships

Abu Dhabi joined OPEC in 1967, four years before the emirates achieved statehood. Oil diplomacy preceded sovereignty. The primary goal of the early members was not a quota system, but sovereignty over natural resources: OPEC gave the smaller Gulf states a collective voice against the “Seven Sisters” — the Western majors that controlled production and pricing. The UAE participated in the 1973 oil embargo, which pushed the price of a barrel from $3 to $12 within a few months. In 1971, the Abu Dhabi National Oil Company (ADNOC) was established, and between 1974 and 1976, Western concessions were replaced with equity participation structures featuring a majority state stake.

In the first 40 years of existence, OPEC enjoyed unrestrained growth. UAE production alone increased from 300,000 barrels per day in the first half of the 1970s to 2.5 million barrels by the turn of the century. Membership in the organization provided price stability, international recognition, and access to a major platform for dialogue with consumers.

Created in 1976, the Abu Dhabi Investment Authority (ADIA) is now one of the world’s largest sovereign wealth funds, with assets exceeding $1 trillion, accumulated over decades of steady oil revenues.

The UAE’s relationship with Saudi Arabia has historically been built on close alliance. When the price of Brent sank below $9 per barrel in 1986 due to oversupply, coordination between Riyadh and Abu Dhabi helped the cartel formulate a unified response. During the 2000s supercycle, both states increased production in sync. In 2006–2008, the UAE produced around 2.9 million barrels per day.

The UAE and Saudi Arabia were long-standing allies within OPEC and expanded production in sync during the 2000s

A turning point in the oil cartel’s history was the creation of OPEC+ in December 2016. After Brent once again collapsed below $28 per barrel, OPEC for the first time concluded an agreement with Russia and nine other producers. The total production cut amounted to 1.8 million barrels per day, with the UAE quota set at around 2.87 million barrels per day. For Abu Dhabi, this opened a pragmatic framework for engagement with Moscow: both countries regularly coordinated positions within the Joint Ministerial Monitoring Committee (JMMC). The Saudi Arabia – Russia – UAE trio formed the core of the alliance, while other participants played largely symbolic roles.

A key test for OPEC+ came with the April 2020 deal. When negotiations collapsed in March and Saudi Arabia launched a price war against Russia, the UAE initially backed Riyadh by increasing supply. Oil prices dipped below $20 per barrel, and in April, WTI futures dropped into negative territory for the first time in history.

The price collapse forced the recent partners back to the negotiating table, this time to agree on unprecedented production cuts of nearly 10 million barrels per day across the alliance. Consensus among the three key players was an imperative for overcoming the crisis. The precedent effectively cemented the UAE’s indispensable role in any major oil agreement.

In 2021–2023, ADNOC invested more than $150 billion in production capacity. Output potential soared from 3.5 million to 4.85 million barrels per day, while the daily quota remained stuck at 3.2 million barrels. In June 2023, OPEC+ raised the UAE’s baseline production level to 3.22 million barrels per day, acknowledging the accumulated investments, but this concession only partially eased tensions. By February 2026, the UAE was already producing 3.42 million barrels per day, or 12% of total OPEC output. A situation in which a country that had poured massive funds into infrastructure was forced to keep it underutilized could not continue for long.

The rationale behind Abu Dhabi’s decision

The gap between capacity and quota is not just an accounting issue. At oil prices above $100 per barrel, every 1 million barrels per day of idle capacity translates into more than $36 billion in lost annual revenue. For a country with production costs below $10 per barrel and a fiscal breakeven point of around $50 per barrel — nearly twice as low as Saudi Arabia’s $90 — this effectively amounts to a real tax on its own infrastructure.

ADNOC's 150-billion-dollar investment came with the expectation of reaching full capacity by 2027. On one hand, remaining within the quota system meant effectively financing competitors through its own idle capacity. On the other hand, the International Energy Agency forecasts that global oil demand will peak before 2030. For the UAE, with the world’s sixth-largest oil reserves (113 billion barrels), this is a direct source of concern. Continuing to constrain production within rigid quota limits means leaving money on the table.

However, a purely economic explanation does not fully account for the timing or the tone of the exit. Another factor is a growing political strain that has accumulated over the years. At first, Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman and the UAE’s de facto ruler and future president Mohamed bin Zayed, acted in tandem, launching joint military operations in Yemen, the blockade of Qatar, and coordinated opposition to Iran. From 2019 onward, however, their trajectories began to diverge. In December 2025, the UAE-backed Southern Transitional Council seized territories in Yemen that were under the control of Saudi-aligned groups. After Saudi Arabia carried out airstrikes on an Emirati weapons convoy, the UAE withdrew its troops from the country.

The economics alone do not explain either the timing or the tone of the exit; another factor is a growing political strain accumulated over the years

Sudan opened a new front of discord. While Abu Dhabi was arming the Rapid Support Forces, Riyadh backed the regular army fighting them. The two countries found themselves on opposite sides of the world’s largest humanitarian crisis. The UAE’s normalization of relations with Israel under the Abraham Accords — a step Saudi Arabia has yet to take — was perceived in Riyadh as further evidence that Abu Dhabi is steadily moving out of its orbit.

The Iranian crisis became a catalyst for an already emerging rift. Tehran’s missile and drone strikes on Emirati infrastructure unexpectedly called into question the UAE’s membership in OPEC and OPEC+, where Iran is an equally full-fledged participant.

On April 27, UAE presidential adviser Anwar Gargash publicly accused the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC), which includes both Saudi Arabia and the UAE, as well as Bahrain, Qatar, Kuwait, and Oman, of a “weakest in history” stance. Unlike its GCC partners, which limited themselves to statements of support, Israel provided the Emirates with air defense systems.

Finally, behind all the accumulated contradictions lies the direct rivalry of two OPEC leaders. Over time, the future Saudi king began to view Abu Dhabi as a threat to Saudi hegemony, while the UAE leader, no longer his mentor, turned into an antagonist. Mohammed bin Salman’s Vision 2030 is a direct challenge to the Emirati development model.

Riyadh has long been trying to lure the headquarters of transnational corporations away from Dubai by creating competing projects in tourism and aviation and claiming the role of a regional financial hub. The UAE, which is ahead of Saudi Arabia in economic development by roughly two decades, has no intention of ceding ground. An exit from OPEC/OPEC+ is not only, or even primarily, about oil. It is a symbolic statement of sovereignty.

The end of managed uncertainty: What OPEC stands to lose

As long as the Strait of Hormuz remains closed, the UAE’s exit from both structures will not make much of an impact on the market. According to the International Energy Agency, regional oil production had shrunk by 10 million barrels per day by mid-March. The UAE’s output nearly halved — from 3.47 million barrels per day in February to 1.89 million by the end of March. Meanwhile, oil exports through the strait dropped from 20 million barrels per day to just over 2 million.

Alternative routes — such as the Saudi East-West Pipeline to the port of Yanbu on the Red Sea and the Emirati pipeline to Fujairah — have compensated for only a small portion of the lost volumes. According to Rystad Energy, even under an optimistic scenario, it will take until the end of the year to return to 3.5 million barrels per day. Paradoxically, the very crisis that triggered Abu Dhabi’s demarche is temporarily nullifying its market impact.

OPEC has seen departures before. Indonesia has twice suspended its membership. Ecuador left in 1992 and again in 2020. Gabon exited back in 1995 but returned 21 years later. Qatar withdrew in 2019, officially citing a desire to focus on its core gas sector, though the move also reflected tensions with Riyadh. Angola left in 2024 over a reduced quota. But none of these departures involved the cartel’s third-largest producer, with capacity approaching 5 million barrels per day and accounting for roughly a quarter of OPEC+’s spare capacity. The UAE is a fundamentally different case.

Kazakhstan (a member of OPEC+) and Iraq are being named among the possible candidates to exit next. Kazakhstan has chronically exceeded its quota due to obligations to international oil companies at the Tengiz field. However, the country’s Energy Ministry has stated that it has no plans to change its format of participation in OPEC+.

With the UAE’s departure, Kazakhstan’s influence as a major oil producer within the alliance could even increase. Iraq, the second-largest OPEC producer with a daily output of 4.33 million barrels, has also breached its quotas. However, Baghdad quickly dismissed any speculation, telling Reuters that it has no plans to leave the organization. The remaining OPEC members either fall short of their production quotas or are too dependent on price support to risk an exit.

Saudi Arabia will seek to preserve unity at any cost. At the May OPEC+ meeting, the group agreed on another quota increase — a clear attempt to maintain a sense of normality regardless of the circumstances. The question is not whether Riyadh wants to preserve the alliance, but whether it has enough tools to keep the skeptics on board.

The question is not whether Riyadh wants to preserve the alliance, but whether it has enough tools to keep the skeptics on board

Under the IEA’s baseline scenario, once shipments through the Strait of Hormuz resume by mid-year, supply is expected to recover at a monthly pace of 1–2 million barrels per day. The UAE’s exit is a new factor in this recovery. Abu Dhabi was quick to reassure markets that production increases will be gradual and aligned with market conditions. However, if the UAE ramps up output without quota constraints, Rystad Energy estimates that it could add up to 1 million barrels per day of additional supply over 6–12 months. In a normalization scenario, Brent could move into the $85–100 per barrel range.

If Saudi Arabia responds by increasing production to defend its own market share, and Kazakhstan and Iraq further loosen discipline, the lower bound of that range risks becoming entrenched for an extended period. The UAE’s withdrawal has not dismantled OPEC overnight, but it has forced the organization to give up managed uncertainty for a new setup in which the rules of the game still need to be written.

What should Russia expect?

Moscow reacted to the UAE’s exit from OPEC and OPEC+ in a markedly restrained — and notably swift — manner. Kremlin spokesperson Dmitry Peskov acknowledged that Russia had not been informed in advance, but stressed that Moscow respects Abu Dhabi’s decision. Deputy Prime Minister Alexander Novak also described the UAE’s withdrawal as a “sovereign decision” and ruled out the risk of a price war: “In the current situation, what kind of price war can there be when the market is in deficit?” Russia, Novak added, does not intend to leave OPEC+.

The UAE’s exit from OPEC objectively weakens Saudi Arabia as the cartel’s single dominant leader, while putting Russia in the seat of an indispensable co-chair of OPEC+, now without any potential competition from Abu Dhabi. Notably, throughout 2021–2023, the UAE watched with growing frustration as Russia turned a blind eye to Kazakhstan’s overproduction, while dismissing the UAE’s own claims and grievances.

Moscow views OPEC+ in part as a diplomatic platform that provides regular contact with Riyadh at a time when most channels for international dialogue remain closed for the Kremlin. Relations with the Saudi crown prince, despite periodic tensions, provide a pragmatic working foundation, given the shared interest in keeping oil prices above the fiscal breakeven levels of both countries.

At the same time, since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the UAE has become the largest transport, logistics, and financial hub for the Russian economy. Bilateral trade surged from $5.4 billion in 2021 to $12 billion by the end of 2025. Direct Russian investment in the UAE has exceeded $25 billion.

The UAE has become indispensable for Russia for multiple reasons: from parallel imports of sanctioned goods and components to the transit of gold and diamonds, re-export of petroleum products, and international settlements. Dubai remains one of the few major financial hubs where Russian companies, under sanctions pressure, can still open accounts and conduct payments. Abu Dhabi’s gradual pivot toward the United States, which is interested in weakening OPEC, and toward Israel introduces additional risks for existing channels.

For Russia, any potential concerns still ultimately come down to the state budget. Oil and gas revenues in the first quarter of 2026 fell by 45.4% year-on-year, while the deficit for January–March reached 4.58 trillion rubles, exceeding the planned full-year figure. The Iranian crisis will temporarily reverse the downward trend, and price-cap sanctions will not prevent Russia from securing a war-related price premium.

First, because the price cap is a poorly enforced mechanism that can be bypassed using a “shadow fleet.” (According to the Centre for Research on Energy and Clean Air (CREA), sanctioned tankers already transport about 68% of Russian oil.) Second, the system has become further fragmented once the EU and the UK lowered the cap to $44.1 per barrel, while the United States kept it at $60.

At the same time, structural problems have not gone away: Russia’s Ministry of Economic Development forecasts a budget deficit through 2042. The pain threshold — a sustained price for Urals below $50 per barrel — could again come into play in the event of a global recession or de-escalation in the Middle East.

The pain threshold for Russia’s budget — a Urals price below $50 per barrel — could again come into play in the event of a global recession or de-escalation in the Middle East

Therefore, the prospect of a rapid increase in UAE oil production after the reopening of the Strait of Hormuz is more concerning for Moscow than the UAE’s actual exit from OPEC and OPEC+. An additional 1 million barrels per day of Emirati oil on the market is, in effect, a direct subtraction from Russia’s budget, which is already grasping at straws. The UAE’s new sovereign strategy in the Middle East adds another variable to the geopolitical and geoeconomic equation that will ultimately determine Russia’s ability to finance the war and maintain the current regime.

At the beginning of 2026, the Russian economy shifted from slowing growth to outright contraction. In January, GDP fell by 1.8% year-on-year, and by 1.1% in February. Even Vladimir Putin, during meetings on economic issues, consistently spoke of the deterioration of macroeconomic indicators, noting that “for two consecutive months now, economic momentum has unfortunately been declining.”

But in March, the trajectory changed. According to the Ministry of Economic Development, GDP grew by 1.8% year-on-year, thereby recouping almost all of the previous decline. As a result, first-quarter GDP fell by only 0.3%.

The decline is partly explained by a calendar effect: January 2026 had two fewer working days than January 2025, while February had one fewer day. But the reasons go far beyond the calendar. Naturally, the list of causes should begin with massive military spending and, as a consequence, higher taxes — especially VAT, which at the start of the year was expanded to a wider range of payers, with rate hikes for many. Such explanations are conspicuously absent from Putin’s official statements.

If one looks at the data for individual sectors, it becomes clear that most non-military industries remain under pressure. Industrial production is slightly positive, up 0.3%. However, manufacturing output declined by 0.7%, with production of metals, automobiles, construction materials, paper, printed products, and clothing falling by more than 10%. In these sectors, both demand and production capacity are declining as companies suffer from higher taxes, the diversion of resources into the military sphere, internet restrictions, worsening expectations, and the loss of access to foreign technologies.

Companies are suffering from higher taxes, the diversion of resources into the military sphere, internet restrictions, worsening expectations, and the loss of access to foreign technologies

Among the relatively stable indicators are the unemployment rate (which remains low), consumer spending (which is rising in line with inflation), and real incomes (which still outpace inflation).

Forecasts for the year as a whole remain conservative. The September forecast from the Ministry of Economic Development projected GDP growth of 1.3%, but minister Maxim Reshetnikov said that the estimate would be revised downward in May. Meanwhile, the Central Bank insists that the economy will return to growth in the range of 0.5–1.5%.

“In the first quarter, economic activity slowed. This was partly connected to the economy’s adjustment to tax changes. The calendar factor also played a role,” Central Bank chair Elvira Nabiullina said. “In the second quarter, this factor will work in the opposite direction. In May–June of this year, there will be three more working days than a year earlier. All of this means that a more accurate assessment of output trends can only be made on the basis of statistics for the first half of the year.”

Record budget deficit

The way the state is spending money has also changed. Over the first four months of the year, the federal budget deficit reached 5.9 trillion rubles, already exceeding the planned annual figure of 3.8 trillion. To be fair, the deficit after the first quarter of 2025 was also significant, but at that time the Finance Ministry announced that March had ended with a surplus and that the annual structural balance targets would be maintained. In its commentary on the results of the first quarter of 2026, there is no mention of either point — only a reference to accelerated financing of expenditures.

In January–April, spending rose by 16% year-on-year, and the pattern within the quarter is also notable: in 2026, March spending exceeded February spending for the first time, whereas in 2023–2025 March had been a month of relative budget restraint. In the previous three years, March expenditures amounted to 79–90% of February levels, while in 2026, they reached 110%.

Actual spending in the quarter amounted to 29.2% of the annual plan, although under an even distribution of expenditures it should have been 25%. A direct extrapolation of this proportion to the full year would imply spending of 50 trillion rubles – 13–14% above the planned 44.1 trillion rubles. However, historical data show that overspending at the beginning of the year is generally offset in subsequent quarters: in 2025, the final overshoot amounted to only 3.5%.

If a similar pattern emerges in 2026, annual spending will end up in the range of 45.6–45.8 trillion rubles — still in excess of the planned level, and that’s if, over the remaining nine months, monthly spending does not exceed an average of 3.65 trillion rubles.

The monthly budget balance figures are also telling. Over the past three years, March posted a surplus: revenues in that month are traditionally high because of the schedule for payments of the additional income tax on hydrocarbon extraction, while expenditures are lower. In 2026, however, even March closed with a deficit. Moreover, in 2025 only three months posted surpluses: March, August, and September. The loss of the March surplus this year means that reducing the accumulated deficit in 2026 will be even more difficult.

Russia even ended March with a budget deficit, meaning that reducing the accumulated deficit in 2026 will be even more difficult

If one assumes that the 8.3 trillion rubles received in the first quarter represent exactly one quarter of total annual revenues, then the full-year figure would amount to 33.2 trillion rubles. And even when using a fairly optimistic estimate of expenditures of 45.7 trillion rubles, this points to a federal deficit of 12.5 trillion ruble, which would be 2.2 times larger than last year’s and nearly 3.3 times larger than the current year’s budget projection. Such a deficit would amount to more than 5% of GDP.

If financed through borrowing, this would mean that domestic government debt would increase by one and a half times over the year – from 30.7 trillion to 43.5 trillion rubles (in 2025 it grew by almost 30%, from 23.7 trillion to 30.7 trillion rubles). And that is only at the federal level, without taking into account regional deficits and debts.

The Finance Ministry has not yet disclosed the sources used to finance the federal deficit in January–March, but they can be inferred from the movement of domestic debt, which rose by 0.8 trillion rubles to 31.5 trillion rubles, and from the liquid assets of the National Wealth Fund, which declined from 4.08 trillion to 3.89 trillion rubles by April 1 and to 3.6 trillion rubles by May 1.

“The deficit shows that the source of financing for expenditures was not taxes, but something else,” says economist and NEST Center expert Sergei Aleksashenko. “In the first quarter, the federal Finance Ministry made very active use of both domestic borrowing and National Wealth Fund money. But most importantly, it sharply reduced the balances in Treasury accounts — a less well-known piggy bank than the National Wealth Fund, but no less substantial. At the beginning of the year, these accounts held more than 9 trillion rubles; by the end of the first quarter, that amount had fallen by 2 trillion. The reduction in account balances is precisely what financed the deficit.”

The government had even prepared to make cuts of 10% to non-priority budget expenditures, but Finance Minister Anton Siluanov later clarified that this was not a cut, but a redistribution. “We never spoke about sequestration at all. The word ‘sequestration’ is the wrong word — we are talking about budget consolidation,” he said in April. “Right now, we are working with the budget through prioritization — increasing funding for the most important items while secondary, less important expenditures are being ‘pushed to the right,’ or perhaps reduced. This is routine work on prioritizing expenditures.”

Aleksashenko explains the shift this way: “Even if a sequestration were carried out, the government could cut roughly one trillion rubles, meaning it still would not cover the deficit. It’s like shearing a pig — lots of squealing, little wool. And it would damage Putin’s image. So according to my sources, when Siluanov came to Putin with the proposal for sequestration, Putin said: ‘Listen, let’s hold off on sequestration for now — things aren’t that bad yet.’”

The problem is that oil badly let the budget down at the beginning of the year. Oil-and-gas revenues in January–March were 45.4% lower than a year earlier, although the Finance Ministry can find consolation in the fact that other revenues are growing. “With regard to key non-oil-and-gas revenues, positive growth is being observed both in the federal budget (+7.1% year-on-year) and in the budget system as a whole (+6.7% year-on-year),” officials reported. But what does rising tax collection from the non-commodity sector amid shrinking taxable value added indicate? The answer: an increase in the effective tax burden, which is further slowing the economy.

Expensive oil will not save the economy

After the escalation in the Persian Gulf, oil prices surged to four-year highs, and in March Russia’s Urals crude actually traded above Brent, a rarity. The average monthly price of Russian oil used by the Ministry of Economic Development for tax calculations rose to $77 per barrel in March, and this was reflected in April budget revenues, which are calculated using March data.

However, oil-and-gas revenues from more expensive oil did not rise as much as expected. In April, oil companies received 207.5 billion rubles in fuel-damper subsidies from the budget. Before that, when prices were very low, they themselves had paid money into the budget under the same mechanism for two consecutive months, albeit in much smaller amounts: 15 billion rubles in March and 19 billion in February.

Revenues in May will be higher, since they are calculated on the basis of April’s price of $94.87 per barrel. For Russia, this obviously means some increase in oil-and-gas revenues. The budget will receive an additional 200 billion rubles because of higher oil prices, Siluanov said. But it is unclear whether he took into account payments to oil companies, or whether they — rather than the budget — will once again receive most of the premium generated by the spike in prices triggered by the conflict with Iran. Even if the entire additional 200 billion rubles goes to the treasury, it would only partially offset the shortfall, which in March amounted to 234.3 billion rubles.

The budget will receive an additional 200 billion rubles in revenue because of higher oil prices

Overall, March could be split into two completely different periods for Russia’s oil sector. Until March 23, export volumes and prices were both rising sharply. Then Ukrainian attacks on the ports of Primorsk and Ust-Luga reduced hydrocarbon shipments, even as prices remained high. As a result, seaborne exports rose by 29% in volume compared with February and by 115% in monetary terms, and it is already clear that April’s high prices will affect budget revenues in May, with the prospect that such market conditions could persist for quite some time.

Even so, this windfall pales in comparison with the “normal” situation in March–April of last year, when at an Urals price of $55–60 per barrel the budget was receiving more than one trillion rubles a month in oil-and-gas revenues. High prices alone are not enough — export volumes also have to be maintained, and here problems have emerged on two levels at once.

First, it is unclear how long the drone-affected ports will remain out of operation, and if successful Ukrainian attacks continue, Russia will be unable to export oil. That would lead to lower production and, consequently, to a reduction in budget revenues, which are calculated on the basis of output.

Second, even oil loaded onto tankers may fail to reach foreign buyers. Ship seizures, physical attacks on vessels, and accidents are becoming increasingly common, all of which raise insurance costs and freight rates.

The optimistic scenario for the Russian treasury would involve receiving just under one trillion rubles in oil-and-gas revenues per month through the end of 2026. In that event, the budget would collect slightly less than 9 trillion rubles over the remainder of the year, even higher than the annual 8.9 trillion rubles projected in the budget (though it still would not reach the record levels of 2022, when oil-and-gas revenues totaled 11.6 trillion rubles).

Under a more pessimistic, albeit rather ordinary scenario, oil-and-gas revenues would remain roughly at March levels: around 600–700 billion rubles per month. That could happen if the Strait of Hormuz is reopened on normal terms. If that happens, full-year oil-and-gas revenues would amount to only around 7.4 trillion rubles.

In any case, the entire difference between the favorable and unfavorable scenarios amounts to about 3 trillion rubles – less than 1.3% of GDP. That is insufficient either to offset the trend toward industrial decline or to fully close the budget “hole.” The share of oil-and-gas revenues in the budget’s income structure fell from 41.6% in 2022 to 17.4% in the first quarter of 2026. This means that rising oil prices alone will not be enough to compensate for the budget’s losses.

Caught in a structural trap

The first quarter exposed a contradiction that cannot be resolved by favorable oil-market conditions. The civilian economy is contracting for deeper reasons: the tax burden is rising, credit is expensive, investment activity is suppressed, and access to technology is limited.

High oil prices may temporarily improve Russia’s budget arithmetic, but they do not change the underlying logic. Even under an optimistic scenario of around one trillion rubles in oil-and-gas revenues per month, the deficit will remain record-high, while expenditures will require either cuts or increased borrowing. Government debt is growing faster than GDP, and Russia is gradually losing what for the past 20 years had been considered its main macroeconomic advantage: the lowest debt burden among major economies.

At the same time, monetary and fiscal policy are both working against growth. The high key interest rate is restraining lending, while higher taxes are eroding business margins. Escaping this combination without structural changes — in the tax system, the allocation of resources between the military and civilian sectors, or in access to foreign markets — will be difficult.

Monetary and fiscal policy are simultaneously working against growth

Nabiullina is right that the calendar factor will work in the opposite direction in the second quarter. But if no recovery follows even with oil at $90 per barrel and three additional working days, that will mean the economy has not merely run into a temporary slowdown, but a structural growth ceiling.

Under the circumstances, the latter would be an entirely natural reality, one far from a worst case scenario. An economic decline of 1–2% a year is actually a fairly mild scenario — wars are usually far more destructive. Annual inflation of 5–6% would seem unusually low for Russia even in peacetime, and after five years of such conditions, Russia’s government debt could reach 60% of GDP and still remain lower than that of each of Ukraine’s key sponsors. In purely financial terms, the country’s margin of stability has not yet been exhausted.

What is absent, however, are any positive prospects for Russia, which will continue to grow poorer slowly and steadily, to fall further behind in development, and to sink deeper into debt once again. The bleakness of this new stagnation will gradually become obvious to everyone. But how that understanding will affect the mood in society and the political situation in Moscow and beyone is not a question for the economists to answer.

When the European Political Community (EPC) summit and the first-ever EU–Armenia summit were first announced, only experts in Armenian affairs actually understood the scale and significance of the events, but Yerevan prepared its hosting duties so diligently that even people far removed from politics soon understood that something big was coming. At the Armenian capital’s Zvartnots airport, planes carrying heads of state began arriving one after another. Until the very last moment, intrigue surrounded whether Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky would attend the EPC summit, with the hosts hoping he would not.

However, Zelensky did arrive, and even made several high-profile statements. Among them was this one:

“Russia has announced its May 9 parade, but there will be no military equipment there. This will be the first time in many years that they cannot afford to display weapons at the parade. And Ukrainian drones may also fly over that parade. That is telling.”

After this statement, it became completely clear that a reaction from Russia would follow (and it did follow). After all, Zelensky spoke these words in a capital that many Russian figures had characterized as an outpost that would “never go anywhere.” But today, Armenia’s leadership openly states that it is not Russia’s ally in the conflict with Ukraine. Yerevan has even sent humanitarian aid to Kyiv. Yet more than Zelensky, Yerevan was awaiting the leaders of the countries with which it planned to sign declarations on strategic partnership.

What Yerevan gained from the summits

Alongside heads of state, dozens of journalists from the world’s leading media outlets flew into Yerevan, and Armenia became one of the top stories in the news cycle. Much of the attention came thanks to French President Emmanuel Macron, who not only took an evening stroll through the city accompanied by Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan, but also went for a morning run with members of his delegation…and several stray dogs. The following day, Macron sang songs by Charles Aznavour while Pashinyan accompanied him on the drums.

France is becoming Armenia’s gateway to Europe. In Yerevan, the sides signed a declaration on strategic partnership, along with agreements on the purchase of transport helicopters and aircraft.

Emmanuel Macron also found time to receive Armenia’s Order of Glory from President Vahagn Khachaturyan and to visit Armenia’s second-largest city, Gyumri. And once again, the visit was accompanied by controversial statements about Russia:

“For a long time, it was believed that Armenia’s security was possible only under Russia’s protection. The 2020 war, the ordeal you endured, the tragedy experienced by many families, showed that this protection was not what many had imagined it to be.

We saw that Russia left Armenia to fend for itself, and we realized that these expectations did not correspond to reality, even though everyone seemed accustomed to believing that Russia was supposed to be the guarantor in the region, because the South Caucasus was supposedly always meant to remain under someone’s protection.

Armenia has proven that another path is possible — a democratic path, launched in 2018 — a path of peace and independent development without external domination.”

Macron also stated that 4,000 Russian troops, including more than 1,000 border guards, are still stationed on Armenian territory. Therefore, he said, Europe must commit itself to helping the country establish more independent border security.

During the EU–Armenia summit, the European agency Frontex and the Armenian Interior Ministry agreed on the text of a new cooperation agreement in the field of border management and migration. The deal provides for strengthening bilateral cooperation in the area of law enforcement, including through interaction with Europol, Eurojust, and the European Multidisciplinary Platform Against Criminal Threats.

In Gyumri, just a few kilometers from the places visited by the French president, stands Russia’s 102nd military base, home to the aforementioned several thousand soldiers. Armenia’s leadership has no plans to remove them — at least not for now, as repeated high-level statements attest. However, given the shifts underway in the South Caucasus, the status quo is prone to change. 

President of the European Council António Costa stated in Yerevan that the EU must help Armenia adequately cope with present and future challenges:

“Today’s EPC Summit is truly historic. It is historic because for the first time the EPC meets here, in the South Caucasus; and because it places Armenia in the heart of Europe, which is exactly where it belongs – in light of its long and rich history… And I am glad that again, like in previous Summits, the EPC will be a catalyst for action. Action in support of Ukraine, Moldova, and Armenia.”

A turning point

Armenia has long looked toward Brussels. Back in 2009, during the presidency of Serzh Sargsyan, Armenia and five other former Soviet states – Azerbaijan, Georgia, Moldova, Belarus, and Ukraine – became part of the EU’s Eastern Partnership initiative. Its goal was to deepen political association and economic integration with the European Union. However, 2013 proved to be a turning point.

After several years of negotiations with Brussels, Yerevan was preparing to sign an Association Agreement that envisaged deeper political and economic ties with the EU, as well as the creation of a free trade area. But in September of that year, Sargsyan unexpectedly announced that Armenia would refuse to sign the document and would instead join the Russia-led Customs Union, which later became the Eurasian Economic Union.

The decision marked a major shift in the country’s foreign policy and provoked mixed reactions both within Armenia and among its European partners. In Yerevan, the move was explained by security concerns and close military-political ties with Moscow, which at the time remained Armenia’s main ally.

Even after the change of power in Armenia in 2018, this foreign policy course changed only slightly. Nikol Pashinyan still visited Moscow more often than Brussels, and that status quo could have continued for a long time had it not been for the war with Azerbaijan in 2020. As a result of the 44-day conflict, Armenia effectively lost control over Nagorno-Karabakh.

On November 9 of that year, a trilateral ceasefire agreement was signed, with Russian mediation, and Moscow’s peacekeepers entered the unrecognized republic. It seemed that the Kremlin had further strengthened its position in the region. However, Azerbaijan had other ideas on the matter.

When Baku launched further military operations on Armenia’s sovereign and internationally recognized territory, Yerevan appealed for help to its allies in the Collective Security Treaty Organization — first on May 13, 2021, when Azerbaijani armed forces entered Armenia’s Syunik Province, and then in September 2022, when the city of Jermuk came under attack. But in neither the first nor the second case did Yerevan receive so much as diplomatic backing. This was another turning point.

The Collective Security Treaty Organization failed to provide Armenia with even diplomatic backing, and this became a turning point for the country

Events unfolded rapidly after that. The negotiation process shifted from Russia to Europe, meaning Nikol Pashinyan and Ilham Aliyev no longer traveled to the Kremlin for meetings with Vladimir Putin. Instead, they were received in Prague or Brussels.

European mediators asked Yerevan to soften its demands, and some time later Armenia officially recognized Nagorno-Karabakh as part of Azerbaijan. Then, in September 2023, Baku launched what it called an anti-terrorist operation in the region, causing both the Armenian population and the Russian peacekeepers to leave. Moscow thus lost its main lever of influence over Armenia and Azerbaijan.

The EU as a civilizational alternative

The loss of Nagorno-Karabakh was a painful blow, but it also opened up European prospects for Armenia.

Against the backdrop of the inaction of the Collective Security Treaty Organization and Russia, public opinion began to change rapidly. For many Armenians, the loss of Nagorno-Karabakh became the moment of final disillusionment with the previous system of alliances. Increasingly, people in the country began to view the European Union not merely as an economic partner, but as a possible political and civilizational alternative.

Recent sociological studies confirm the shift. According to a survey by the International Republican Institute (IRI) conducted in February 2026, 72% of Armenia’s residents support the country’s possible accession to the European Union. If a referendum were held “next Sunday,” 51% would vote in favor of EU membership, while only 13% would oppose it. Another 32% said they would not participate in the vote.

If a referendum were held “next Sunday,” 51% would vote in favor of EU membership, while only 13% would oppose it

At the same time, the European vector is increasingly linked not only to issues of democracy, but also to security. The authors of the study note that Armenians see closer ties with the EU as a chance to strengthen the country’s economy, reduce its dependence on Russia, and obtain new guarantees of stability.

In 2024, 66% of respondents described relations with Russia as negative — the highest figure in the entire history of IRI observations. At the same time, when asked about the main drawbacks or dangers of joining the EU, those who are not ready to support European integration responded that the EU would be an unreliable partner (22%), that membership would lead to the loss of national values (15%), and that it would undermine Armenian family traditions (12%).

What the EU promises and delivers

One of the European Union’s most visible steps in Armenia was the deployment of European observers on the Armenian-Azerbaijani border. The mission was established after the escalation in the fall of 2022, when Azerbaijani troops advanced into Armenian territory. Just a few months later, the EU sent the civilian European Union Mission in Armenia (EUMA) to the country. Its personnel patrol border regions, monitor the situation along the line of contact, and prepare reports for Brussels.

For Armenia, the significance of this mission turned out to be far broader than its formal mandate. For the first time in decades, a Western security-monitoring mechanism appeared in the South Caucasus without Russia’s participation. In Yerevan, this was perceived as a political signal: Europe was prepared not only to talk about reforms and democracy, but also to maintain a presence in the region during a crisis. Armenian authorities have repeatedly stated that the presence of European observers helps reduce tensions on the border and makes developments there more visible to the international community.

With the EU Mission in Armenia, a Western security-monitoring mechanism appeared in the South Caucasus for the first time — without Russia’s participation

At the same time, the European Union began providing economic backing to Armenia. After the loss of Nagorno-Karabakh and the sharp deterioration in Yerevan’s relations with Moscow, Brussels effectively offered the country a new partnership framework. In April 2024, at a joint EU–US–Armenia meeting in Brussels, Ursula von der Leyen announced a four-year assistance package worth €270 million.

The funds are intended for infrastructure development, support for small and medium-sized businesses, energy projects, digitalization, and assistance for displaced people from Karabakh. Later, the EU clarified that the total volume of European investment in the Armenian economy under the Global Gateway program could reach €2.5 billion.

In Brussels, officials openly say they want to make the Armenian economy more resilient, reduce its dependence on Russia, and gradually bring the country closer to European standards in areas ranging from market regulation to visa liberalization. The latter process is already well underway: at the EU–Armenia summit, European Union leaders presented Armenian authorities with the first report on the progress of its implementation and noted Yerevan’s significant achievements along this path.

How to minimize the risks on the road to the EU

Speaking before the European Parliament in October 2023, Nikol Pashinyan stated that “the Republic of Armenia is ready to be as close to the European Union as the European Union considers possible.” In essence, this statement means that Yerevan is prepared to do so as soon as tomorrow. But for countries such as Armenia, Georgia, Ukraine, and Moldova, EU membership is a long and difficult process. Yerevan has not yet received an official offer to become an EU candidate country, so European integration is generally seen more as a civilizational choice than as a real political prospect for the coming years.

The main question is how to minimize the risks, the most significant of which is posed by Moscow. The Kremlin is already stating that Yerevan must make a choice: either Europe or Russia. The first option would mean leaving the military bloc of the Collective Security Treaty Organization and the Eurasian Economic Union, as well as an effective rupture in trade relations with Russia.

Moscow is already stating that Yerevan must make a choice: either Europe or Russia

Troubling signals emerged a week before the two summits in Yerevan. Russia’s consumer protection agency, Rospotrebnadzor, closed the Russian market to one of Armenia’s most recognizable brands — Jermuk mineral water. Armenia also imports gas from the north, and at some point the Kremlin will inevitably make use of that lever as well. Much will therefore depend on how interested Brussels truly proves to be in supporting Yerevan with more than just diplomatic goodwill.

Pope Leo XIV has creatively developed the tradition of his predecessor: like the Argentine-born Pope Francis who preceded him, Chicago native Leo XIV also speaks out actively on political issues. Moreover, he does so more frequently and more sharply than Pope Francis.

During the Easter prayer vigil for peace, the pontiff called for people to “sit at the table of dialogue and mediation, not at the table where rearmament is planned and deadly actions are decided!”

“Enough of the display of power! Enough of war! True strength,” the pontiff said, “is shown in serving life.” He also condemned the use of religious imagery to justify war, thereby indirectly rebuking Pete Hegseth, the United States Secretary of Defense, who has said that America and Israel’s struggle with Iran is a sacred war of Christians against Islamists.

Leo XIV also did not miss the opportunity to recall that, in 2003, the Holy See under Pope John Paul II condemned the American invasion of Iraq. However, he chose not to remind readers that Pope Francis had also consistently criticized the United States — likely because that fact remains so fresh in the public memory that it does not bear repeating.

Donald Trump predictably saw Leo XIV’s remarks as a reproach directed at him. The president of the United States is a self-absorbed egocentric, prone to lashing out at anyone who fails to please him, and unsurprisingly, he lashed out at the American-born pope, calling him “terrible” on foreign policy and “weak” on fighting crime — apparently a reference to the pontiff’s statements in defense of migrants.

An American pope

The clash between the first American pope and his “own” president has, unsurprisingly, sparked a flood of commentary in the United States. “Only a mad politician would quarrel with the pontiff,” one American acquaintance of mine, a longtime donor to the Republican Party, remarked. “We have millions of Catholic voters. They love the pope simply because he’s from Chicago. Why spit in their faces on the eve of the November midterm elections to the U.S. Congress?”

The question is far from rhetorical. By various estimates, the number of Catholics in America ranges from 57 million to 73 million. This is not only the largest Christian denomination in the country, but the largest religious group in the country.

Since the late 19th century, Catholics have typically voted for the Democratic Party. In recent decades, however, they are increasingly casting their ballots for Republicans. The main reason is that Democrats — especially in the eyes of the more traditional segment of believers — increasingly come off as a party of aggressive secularism, if not atheism, hostile to any religion, and especially to Christianity.

According to polls, this view is particularly common among white Catholics. Among Latino (or “Hispanic”) Catholics, there are more supporters of the Democrats, but even among them Republican influence is growing. In the 2024 election, Catholic voters played a significant role in Donald Trump’s victory. That is precisely why his remarks have alarmed many within the party — including Vice President J. D. Vance, who converted to Catholicism in 2019.

At first, Vance urged the pontiff to focus on moral issues and leave politics to the professionals. However, he soon softened his remarks. Many saw this not only as a form of apology, but even as a public distancing from Donald Trump.

Vance himself, along with many American analysts, considers himself the leading candidate for the Republican presidential nomination in 2028. For him, as a Catholic (and moreover, a convert), the support of his own community is almost an essential condition for a successful presidential campaign — especially since another potential candidate, current Secretary of State Marco Rubio, is also a traditional Catholic.

Interestingly, Pope Leo XIV likewise sought to smooth over the impression left by the spat with Trump, saying that his speech about tyrants had been written two weeks before Trump’s attacks and had no direct connection to them. The explanation is not especially convincing, but the attempt to avoid escalating the conflict is evident.

The sparring between the pontiff and the president is a clear illustration of the long-standing ideological confrontation between the Holy See and the United States. Today, the Roman Catholic Church is, above all, a church of the Global South, rather than the Global West, which has to a significant extent lost the Christian faith.

Church of the Global South

There are now 1.4 billion Catholics worldwide, meaning they make up nearly 18% of the global population. The majority live in South and Central America, but Africa is rapidly catching up: it is now home to one-fifth of all Catholics. Asia, especially India and South Korea, is also a region of growth for the Roman Catholic Church.

Hundreds of thousands of priests and bishops come from these regions, often from poor families. For many of them, the seminary was virtually their only opportunity to receive an education. Those who continue their studies at non-church universities — in departments of sociology, anthropology, and history — often fall under the influence of professors who are adherents of the Frankfurt School, or simply Marxists. For these professors, the world is divided into the oppressed (Muslims, along with the indigenous peoples of the Americas, Asia, and Africa) and the oppressors (the United States and Europe). Christianity, in their view, is the religion of colonizers and slave traders, imposed on Africans or the Maya. In their interpretation, the Catholic Church must now repent and seek to compensate the Global South for past sins.

Liberation theology, which emerged in Latin America in the second half of the 20th century, offered a radical example of a synthesis between Marxism and Christianity, calling for a kind of evangelical mission of social assistance to the poor. Despite repeated criticism — and even bans from the hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church — liberation theology remains a widespread phenomenon, especially in Spanish-speaking countries.

For a significant portion of the rank-and-file Catholic clergy, along with the Church’s upper hierarchy, the United States is an imperial power that dispenses justice and punishment at will against the “undesirable” states of the Global South. Americans and their allies, according to this view, must be constantly checked and restrained through an abstractly understood framework of international law. In this picture of the world, Washington is almost always wrong, while America’s opponents deserve, if not support, then at least an attempt to understand their position.

Pope Leo XIV has undoubtedly been influenced by such ideas. He is a U.S. citizen, yet he spent twenty years serving in the Peruvian province of Lambayeque, where 30% of the population lives below the poverty line. He even obtained a Peruvian passport.

Judging by some of the pontiff’s statements, in his worldview a U.S. strike on Iran is unequivocally wrong, “selfish” Europeans are unwilling to admit migrants, and Islam is something that should either be spoken of positively or not discussed at all.

Pacifism or support for authoritarian regimes?

Here a paradox is evident. Most of America’s conflicts over the past fifty years have been with dictatorial regimes — communist ones (such as North Vietnam or Cuba), Islamist ones (the Taliban and Iran today), and outright dictatorships (Iraq under Saddam Hussein, Venezuela under Nicolás Maduro). Each time, calls from the Holy See for peace and adherence to international law have, in practice, worked in favor of authoritarian regimes, prolonging their existence.

Today, aggression is increasingly not about crossing a state border with armored and infantry units, but about conducting drone warfare, carrying out acts of terrorism, waging cyberattacks, and making use of proxy organizations.

The example of Iran is particularly illustrative. On the one hand, the recent attack by the United States and Israel did indeed formally violate international law. On the other, the effective transformation of Lebanon into an Iranian semi-colony through the Tehran-backed Hezbollah is itself a form of aggression, as is the creation in Yemen of an international base for Islamist terrorism via cooperation with the Houthis.

For some reason, Pope Leo XIV chose Lebanon as an example of a state where Muslims and Christians coexist peacefully. Yet a few short decades ago the country was devastated by the Lebanese Civil War. By various estimates, it claimed between 120,000 and 170,000 lives and led to the emigration of many thousands of Maronite Catholics, who in the 1940s had helped establish Lebanon as an independent state. The Iranian regime played an active role in that war, supporting the Shiite group Hezbollah, just as it backs the Sunni Hamas movement in the Gaza Strip. The Holy See condemns Iran for the public executions of regime opponents (as Pope Francis had done), yet Leo XIV is calling for peace precisely at a moment when the Islamist dictatorship in Tehran is facing the most difficult period in its nearly half-century of existence.

The idea that the pope is, in a sense, a “pacifist by office” is broadly correct. But there are exceptions. In Catholic philosophy, there is a concept of the “just war.” At the same time, the final judgment on whether a given war is just depends on specific circumstances. Unlike Pope Francis, who was unable or unwilling to speak unequivocally about Russia’s aggression against Ukraine, the current pontiff, to his credit, has clearly described the Kremlin’s actions as imperialist.

The idea that the pope is, in a sense, a “pacifist by office” is, on the whole, correct.

However, it seems that when it comes to the situation surrounding Iran, he could have adopted a more nuanced approach, proceeding from the assumption that the Iranian regime cannot be influenced by any means other than military force.

The pontificate of Pope Leo XIV has only just begun. Will the Catholic Church’s approach to the Global West soften under the “Chicago pope”? That cannot be ruled out — he is vigorous, intellectual, and energetic. In 2029, Donald Trump will leave the White House, while Europe and the United States, with all their shortcomings and problems, will remain the planet’s principal defenders of democracy, and thus of peace.

Court statistics show that Yakovlev’s problems go beyond certification and postponed serial production. According to the SPARK database, 363 lawsuits totaling more than 21.2 billion rubles were filed against the company as a defendant between 2024 and 2026. Most of the disputes are tied to contractual obligations within the production chain, including supplies, contracting work, services and energy. Aviation experts who spoke to The Insider on condition of anonymity said these disputes point to payment problems within the aviation and defense production networks.

The largest plaintiffs include suppliers of titanium, engines, metals, components and avionics, all key parts of the aircraft production chain. According to SPARK, TD VSMPO-AVISMA Corp. filed claims worth 5.7 billion rubles, UEC-UMPO 1.8 billion rubles, Gidromash 1.1 billion rubles, KUMZ 825 million rubles, AMR 395 million rubles and UKBP 278 million rubles. The companies that most often sued Yakovlev were Gidromash, with 30 cases; KUMZ, with 15; Izhstal, with 11; AMR, with 10; Strela Production Association, with eight; and UKBP and ELARA, with six each.

An industry source told The Insider that the wave of supplier lawsuits is linked to the company’s shortage of funds.

“PJSC Yakovlev does not have the money to pay suppliers for services provided and components delivered. Money is allocated from the budget for the most urgent needs, but the situation with contractors arose because no new aircraft are being produced, meaning there is no revenue. Debts have accumulated over previous years and apparently will now be covered from the state budget,” the source said.

An aviation expert who spoke to The Insider on condition of anonymity said the lawsuits against Yakovlev cannot be clearly linked only to the civilian MC-21 and SJ-100 programs. A significant share of the claims, the expert said, may be connected to military production.

“Yakovlev’s main real product, not its project-stage product, is Sukhoi Design Bureau fighter jets. They are literally produced at the same plants in Irkutsk and Komsomolsk-on-Amur where the MC-21 and SJ-100 are assembled, in neighboring workshops and, broadly speaking, by the same people. Fighter jets break down and crash. They need parts, repairs and new aircraft, which means money is needed from the Defense Ministry. But the Defense Ministry is not allocating enough money. It has even stopped giving money to shipbuilders. I am sure a significant share of the lawsuits is connected to this, not to civilian aircraft.

At the same time, the list of plaintiffs shows the lawsuits are mixed. The UEC-UMPO lawsuit is definitely about civilian aviation: it is the developer of the PD-14, the engine for the MC-21. But that claim is within a single structure: both Yakovlev and UEC are part of Rostec. The Gidromash lawsuit is military: at least one ruling concerned spare parts for Indian fighter jets. KUMZ, Izhstal, AMR and VSMPO-AVISMA deal in metals, alloys and titanium, which are used everywhere. With suppliers like that, it is impossible to say whether the cooperation is civilian or military.

These are definitely mixed claims, but the proportion cannot be determined from open data. Aircraft contracts in Russia are a gray area, and that was true even before the war. Even in the civilian sector, the Defense Ministry often appeared around the financial side. For the past two years of the Russian economy, this has been the normal backdrop for enterprises involved in the state defense order: payment problems are widespread there, and contractors are actively complaining about them. Of course, this is not normal, and it is not normal for the aviation industry in particular.

If you set aside the separate Aeroflot story, I would explain this group of lawsuits as payment delays under contracts: there is no money because customers for military aircraft are not making payments, because loans are expensive and because the civilian aviation program has failed. Aircraft deliveries were supposed to have begun already, but they have not. There is no money for them, and the gaps are being covered with loans. Chemezov has already complained about this, without singling out United Aircraft Corp., but UAC looks like the weakest link in this arrangement.”

The court data therefore do not make it possible to clearly attribute all the lawsuits either to the civilian MC-21 and SJ-100 programs or to military production. Some claims are tied to clearly civilian cooperation, some to military contracts, and a significant share concerns suppliers of materials and components that serve both sectors.

PJSC Yakovlev is part of Rostec’s United Aircraft Corp. The company produces the SJ-100 and MC-21 passenger aircraft, as well as military aircraft including the Su-30SM fighter jet and Yak-130 advanced jet trainer. After Western suppliers left Russia, Yakovlev became one of the key contractors in the civilian aviation import-substitution program.

Despite the latest delay in serial manufacturing, Rostec is maintaining ambitious plans for  producing civilian aircraft. At the meeting with Putin, Chemezov said the corporation plans to produce 36 MC-21 aircraft, 20 SJ-100s and 12 Il-114s a year by 2030.

The next tranche for Ukraine is estimated at €1.4 billion and is due to be transferred in July 2026. In the first quarter of this year, Euroclear set aside €744 million for payment as a “windfall contribution,” a sum drawn from the net profit the depository earns by investing cash balances from blocked accounts belonging to Russia’s central bank.

Euroclear’s interest income from sanctioned Russian assets totaled €1.1 billion in the first quarter of 2026, down 23% from the same period a year earlier. The company attributed the decline to lower interest rates and warned that the income would continue to depend on monetary policy. The depository estimated its direct expenses related to sanctions and Russian countermeasures at €38 million, with lost revenue totaling another €9 million.

As of the end of March 2026, Euroclear Bank’s balance sheet stood at €237 billion, of which €200 billion related to sanctioned Russian assets. The depository continues to be involved in court proceedings in Russia, including cases initiated by Russia’s central bank, and says the risk of unfavorable rulings is high as Moscow does not recognize international sanctions. Proceeds from sanctioned assets remain the main source of funds the EU has directed to support Ukraine since 2024.

In December 2025, EU countries agreed to indefinitely freeze €210 billion in Russian state assets. Previously, the freeze had to be extended every six months and could have been blocked at any time by Hungary or Slovakia. The decision was also aimed at persuading Belgium to support an EU plan to issue Ukraine a loan of up to 165 billion euros backed by the frozen assets.. Kyiv would repay the loan only if Russia pays reparations for war damage. Russia’s central bank at the time called the EU plans “illegal” and filed a lawsuit against Euroclear in a Moscow arbitration court.

The ceremony came to light after a memorial museum opened in Pyongyang on April 27 with photographs from the event on display. The images show Putin personally presenting Russian state awards to North Korean military personnel.

A caption under the photographs reads: “Ceremony for presenting state awards of the Russian Federation to the chief commanders and soldiers of the Korean People’s Army’s overseas operational unit who took part in the operation to liberate the Kursk Region, Dec. 3, 2025.” The medals themselves are also on display at the museum.

According to NK News, at least five senior North Korean military officers received awards. Their identities have not been officially disclosed, but the outlet suggests they may be the generals Putin greeted at the Victory Day military parade in Moscow on May 9, 2025.

The ceremony had not previously been reported publicly and did not appear on the Kremlin’s official schedule. Chris Monday, a Russia expert at Dongseo University, said the Kremlin likely concealed the event deliberately. In his view, Moscow wants to highlight its alliance with North Korea while avoiding the appearance of being too dependent on Pyongyang.

Monday also suggested the awards may have been an attempt to ease tensions between Russian and North Korean military personnel. He said North Korean officials were dissatisfied with how their units were used in the Kursk region and had criticized Russia’s command.

The museum exhibit also shows footage from visits by State Duma Speaker Vyacheslav Volodin and Russian Defense Minister Andrei Belousov, who were guided through the museum by Kim Jong Un.

Independent Russian outlets Politzek-Info and SotaVision reported that Yarotsky committed suicide during the night of May 6 to 7 at the IK-7 penal colony in Khadyzhensk, a city in Russia’s Krasnodar Krai. His death was disclosed in a letter from Alexander Nozdrinov, another political prisoner held at the same colony.

According to Nozdrinov, Yarotsky repeatedly complained of pressure from the prison administration, with SotaVision adding that he was forced to work at night despite having health issues.

Yarotsky was first tried in December 2023, when a court sentenced him to 1.5 years in a general-security penal colony for “desecrating a symbol of military glory.” The charge stemmed from a political cartoon he posted on social media depicting Putin, a penis, and a St. George ribbon, which has become a symbol of Victory Day commemorations in modern Russia. The sentence was later overturned, and the case was sent back for retrial.

In the spring of 2025, the artist was sentenced again, this time to 5.5 years in a penal colony. He was convicted of spreading “false information” about the Russian army and “desecrating a symbol of military glory” over a post about Russian battlefield losses in Ukraine.

SotaVision noted that Yarotsky was at least the seventh Russian political prisoner to die behind bars this year. 

The drones in question are those of the Geran (“Geranium”) series — localized Russian versions of the Iranian Shahed. These represent the most widely employed deep-strike loitering munitions used by the Russian military to target Ukrainian infrastructure.

Geran drones are primarily divided into autonomous and manually controlled variants, but the majority fall into the autonomous category, functioning as slow-moving cruise missiles and navigate toward pre-programmed coordinates without human control. However, newer variants featuring direct manual control have emerged, utilizing mesh modems and cameras to maintain a link with ground operators. These variants have been adapted for specialized roles, with some even observed carrying air-to-air missiles or man-portable air-defense systems for engaging Ukrainian aircraft.

To counter the sustained Russian drone campaign, Ukraine has employed a range of measures, from kinetic air defenses to electronic warfare (EW), which targets the satellite navigation systems of Russian drones by jamming and spoofing legitimate satellite signals, causing the navigation of the drone to deviate.

To survive these efforts, Russian drones rely on Controlled Reception Pattern Antennas (CRPAs) for navigation. Unlike standard antennas, CRPAs contain an array of elements, each of which functions as an individual antenna patch. In this manner, a CRPA can identify the direction of incoming jamming and create a blind spot to block the interference while sharpening actual satellite signals, ensuring the drone maintains its course even when targeted by EW systems.

The effectiveness of a CRPA is directly tied to its element count. For instance, a 16 element CRPA can resist jamming from 15 different sources. In Geran UAVs, CRPAs work in tandem with inertial navigation units, which serve as backup systems if the antenna is completely jammed. However, drones cannot rely on inertial measurement alone, as these systems are prone to cumulative drift over hours of flight, requiring correction from the CRPA’s satellite navigation to maintain accuracy. Without these antennas, the Geran is essentially unable to strike targets precisely.

How Chinese companies supply Alabuga with antennas

Harxon Corporation is a large Chinese business specializing in the sale of navigation antennas. By its own count, the company has “over 400 employees and more than 200 partners worldwide.” The firm presents itself as a subsidiary of the U.S. sanctioned BDStar.

Harxon’s online product catalog, aimed at the civilian market, indicates that the product codes for the company’s antennas all begin with HX. Nordsint has documented antennas with the same prefix in the debris of Shahed drones. In particular, these models were labeled for use in "grain combine harvesters.” This tactic is likely used to bypass Chinese export customs, as Chinese law prohibits the export of dual use goods to military users. A model of this name does not appear in Harxon’s public catalog, possibly indicating a hidden model for military clients.

Posing as a supplier for Russian military drone production, Nordsint contacted Harxon asking to purchase CRPAs. Nordsint reached out to Harxon’s official sales email, but received a reply from the personal email of a representative named Masha Wu. Wu expressed a willingness to sell antennas but emphasized that the transaction would be handled under a different company name. “We will use other company for communication and contract signature (not Harxon) because it's sensitive,” wrote Wu. She is identified on LinkedIn as an overseas sales manager at Harxon. 

When asked about the availability of the HXTX9050A, Wu said that the company did not stock the model, but said similar ones were available. Wu subsequently transferred the sale to a representative named Anthony, later identified on an invoice to Nordsint as Anthony Zheng, from a company called NavX Technology Co., Ltd. Due to the restricted nature of anti-jamming solutions, Zheng asked to move the conversation from WeChat to Telegram. Little information exists about NavX as a company. It does not have an online presence, and no official mentions of the company name can be found online apart from business registries, which indicate the company was incorporated in July 2025.

Zheng offered antennas with seven, eight, and 16 channels, designated as models GI004, GI005, and GI006, and provided technical documents for each antenna. A discrepancy appeared in the documentation for the GI006 16-channel antenna, which was internally labeled as the GI015 within the technical specifications. Despite this labeling, the filename of the document remained GI006, and the GI006 designation appears on a final invoice of these antennas.

None of these models exist in online records, and they appear to be manufactured exclusively for military clients. “We will have the normal civilian antennas in the near future. I will share more information when we build up the cooperation” said Zheng. When asked if NavX stocked the HXTX9050A, Zheng said that the “GI005 is smaller and better than HXTX9050A,” indirectly acknowledging the existence of the latter model. According to Zheng, Harxon/NavX CRPAs use almost entirely Chinese made components, with the only foreign components in the system being a cheap Samsung capacitor. Additionally, he mentioned the company was in the process of developing a 32-channel antenna. 

Nordsint placed a bulk order for 200 units, consisting of 100 7-channel antennas, 50 8-channel antennas, and 50 16-channel antennas. The invoice for the antennas identified the seller as Shenzhen NavX Technology Co., Ltd., and the company requested that payment be directed to a VTB Bank account.

Previously, The Insider revealed that this bank serves as a key processing hub for Chinese firms supplying the Russian defence industry. The total cost for this hardware amounted to 5,443,200¥ ($797,188). The cost of each individual antenna was 49,030¥ ($7176) for the 7-channel variant, 55,200¥ ($8,079) for the 8-channel model, and 108,864¥ ($15,934) for the 16-channel version.

The company’s name indicated on the seal appears to be authentic, while the registration number provided does not.

Nordsint cross-referenced the images provided by NavX with photos from Ukrainian auctions featuring captured drone components. In several instances, antennas captured in Ukraine still retained product stickers in Chinese specifically designating the antennas as GI004 and GI006 respectively, the same models sold by Navx. In the case of the 7-channel GI004 antenna, the sticker found in the field is identical to the sticker featured in photos sent by NavX. These stickers indicate in Chinese that the units are “agricultural machinery navigation antenna,” a false label presumably used to bypass Chinese export restrictions, as it is unlikely Russian customs services would understand the associated Chinese text. 

Zheng confirmed the company’s direct involvement with the Russian military. “We are working with Alabuga, so we have to make it confidential,” he said when questioned on the lack of public information regarding NavX.

The Alabuga plant, located inside the Alabuga Special Economic Zone in Tatarstan, is the primary production facility for Russian drones of the Geran and Gerbera varieties. The Gerbera is a simplified version of the Geran and uses a similar radar signature to overwhelm air defenses during attacks, though certain variants are also used in strike and reconnaissance roles. Additionally, markings on antennas contain the prefix ALB, which possibly corresponds to the Alabuga plant. At the time of writing, the GI-006 is the most common 16-channel CRPA found in Russian drones, judging from the relative amount of online listings.

The GI-006 is the most common 16-channel CRPA found in Russian drones

Beyond specifically labeled antennas, numerous other instances of antennas manufactured by the company are found in online listings. The identification of these antennas can be done by comparing internal layouts, case materials, and design elements to known examples.

Harxon’s shell company

Nordsint’s buyer persona questioned Zheng on the relationship between Harxon and NavX. Zheng claimed the two operate as “separate, independent companies.” However, when pressed on whether NavX serves as a rebrand to protect Harxon from sanctions, Zheng wrote that “this angle is correct,” while adding, “but I don’t belong to Harxon anymore.” 

He explained that Harxon was not allowed to sell to military clients, explaining that Harxon would refer to NavX for these cases. “If Harxon has some military project they can't make, [they] will recommend to us.”

When pressed on whether NavX serves as a rebrand to protect Harxon from sanctions, Zheng wrote that “this angle is correct”

Despite Zheng’s claims that NavX and Harxon work as independent companies, online evidence points to NavX acting as a shell company for Harxon’s military sales. Zheng, who signed NavX’s invoice, is identified as the overseas sales manager for Harxon on the e-commerce marketplace made-in-china.com.

Additionally, a facial recognition search of Zheng’s profile pictures on WeChat show that he appears several times on Harxon’s website, as well as at the Intergeo 2023 exhibition with a nametag identifying himself as Anthony Zheng. Furthermore, a Linkedin post made by a Turkish civilian surveying company specifically identifies Anthony Zheng and Masha Wu as representatives of Harxon who visited the company. In 2022, Zheng visited Russia and took part in the Agrosalon exhibition. His Linkedin profile indicates that he has worked for Harxon since 2019.

There are no official mentions of NavX antennas in Russian trade data, nor are there any official instances of the company NavX trading with Russian counterparts. Previously, The Insider reported that between August and September 2024, an Alabuga-based company, Morgan LLC, imported more than $1 million worth of Harxon antennas. The trade data indicate that Chinese and Turkish shell companies as well as Harxon itself acted as exporters. Trade data shows that antennas shipped directly by Harxon had dimensions of 33.4mm x 33.4mm x 7.7mm, which are significantly smaller than CRPA models and close to the size of individual antenna patches. Other shipments from Harxon were specified as “not for military use.” 

Nonetheless, trade data is not a perfect indication of supply, as shipments of sensitive goods are often obfuscated from Russian customs databases or concealed as other components. Additionally, Harxon does sell to legitimate civilian markets in Russia. However, when comparing the indicated value and weight of shipments from Harxon to Alabuga to the value and known weight of invoiced antennas, the figures are more consistent with CRPAs than civilian antennas manufactured by the company.

Harxon continues to participate in the global market. The company took part in the XPONENTIAL Europe 2026 trade fair held in Dusseldorf, Germany in March 2026. The company’s website shows it has authorized distributors in 27 countries, including the United States, France, the United Kingdom, Australia, Brazil, and Japan. Harxon’s parent company BDStar has been under American sanctions since 2024, albeit for reasons unrelated to support for the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Instead, the firm was added to the list “for their support to the [Chinese] High Altitude Balloon that overflew the United States in February 2023.” 

At the time of writing no countries apart from the United States have sanctioned BDStar, and Harxon is not subject to the restrictive measures of any country, allowing it to continue doing business as usual. Sanctions on the company, of course, would impact the markets in which it can sell its products.

The Insider sent comment requests to Harxon Corporation, VTB Bank, and the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs through the Chinese Embassy in Latvia. The Insider did not receive an immediate reply from Harxon. However, Zheng cleared all Telegram chats with Nordsint’s buyer account after comment requests to Harxon were sent.

The Chinese Embassy stated that it “would like to highlight that China’s position on the Ukraine issue remains consistent and clear. We have worked actively for a ceasefire and to promote peace talks. We never provide lethal weapons to any party to the conflict, and strictly control the exports of dual-use items.”

VTB Bank requested information of the full company name on the invoice, which The Insider provided by email. VTB did not respond further.

With the participation of Andrey Zayakin.

A few months before Canada’s parliamentary elections, the Liberal Party was trailing the Conservatives by 20 percentage points. Virtually no one doubted what the result of the April 2025 vote would be. However, at the very start of his second term that January, Donald Trump launched an attack on Canada’s sovereignty, repeatedly suggesting that the vast country of 41.5 million should become America’s 51st state. Trump imposed 25% tariffs and threatened annexation.

Against this backdrop, Conservative Party leader Pierre Poilievre, whom the media had dubbed “the Canadian Trump,” saw his campaign falter. The similarities were real — Poilievre frequently criticized the media and proposed ending funding for public broadcasting. He promoted conspiracy theories claiming that Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was involved in a plot with the World Economic Forum, and he presented himself as a defender of “ordinary people” against the elites.

Liberal Party leader Mark Carney built his entire election campaign around confronting Trump, speaking about the man in the White House nearly as often as he brought up his Conservative rival.

In the end, the Trump factor proved decisive in the election. Although both candidates criticized the U.S. president, the Liberal Party’s commitment to maintaining Canada’s independence — both figuratively and literally — helped the incumbents secure victory in a fourth consecutive election. The Liberal Party won 168 seats in parliament. The Conservatives took 144. All other parties combined received 30.

“The United States wants our land, our resources, our water, our country. That will never happen!” Carney declared after the election victory.

A year later, Carney further strengthened his position via by-elections in three regions, after which his party held 174 seats. The Liberals can now pass legislation unimpeded by  the opposition until 2029.

Australia, May 2025

Australia’s election followed a strikingly similar script to Canada’s. The two main contenders were incumbent Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and opposition populist Peter Dutton, who to a significant extent was imitating the U.S. president.

Dutton entered politics from the business world, naming his party Trumpet of Patriots (with the first five letters clearly intended to be capitalized). During the campaign, the candidate promised to make Australia great again while speaking out against migrants, LGBTQ+ people, and, more broadly, policies of diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI).

Dutton named his party Trumpet of Patriots and promised to make Australia great again

All of this, for a time, boosted his political standing. Polls conducted three months before the election predicted that Dutton was destined for the prime minister’s office. However, as in Canada, everything was turned upside down with the start of the tariff wars, and the question of whether the new leader would be able to stand up to Trump became the key issue of the campaign. In the end, despite Dutton’s attempts to distance himself from enthusiasm for Trump’s ideas, Australian voters preferred incumbent Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and the Australian Labor Party he leads.

Romania, May 2025

In Romania’s 2025 presidential election, the contenders were Bucharest mayor Nicușor Dan and nationalist George Simion, who presented himself as part of the global MAGA camp.

It was the second attempt to hold the election after the results of the first round in 2024 were annulled by Romania’s Constitutional Court over suspicions of Russian interference through the creation of a bot network on TikTok. At that time, far-right populist Călin Georgescu had led after the first round. U.S. Vice President J. D. Vance, in his speech at the 2025 Munich Security Conference, criticized the Romanian court’s decision, giving an additional boost to the right-wing camp in Romanian politics.

Simion said that he “fully agrees with the MAGA ideology,” opposes LGBTQ+ rights and climate policy, and also spoke in favor of the “unification” of Romania with Moldova. Speaking on the War Room podcast hosted by former Trump adviser Steve Bannon, the Romanian populist sent greetings to “all our MAGA friends” and portrayed his campaign as part of a global anti-globalist movement.

Simion sent greetings to “all our MAGA friends”

In addition, Simion called for an end to financial and military support for Ukraine and criticized the European Union. Even after the Trump administration introduced new tariffs — which negatively affected Romania — Simion endorsed the move, calling it a “predictable response to the reckless decisions of the European Union.” Although Donald Trump never directly declared support for Simion, this kind of anti-European rhetoric was clearly advantageous to his administration, which has sought to portray the EU as a weak and useless alliance.

However, Simion was defeated at the ballot box. Nicușor Dan won 53.7% at the polls, and the gap between the two candidates was nearly one million votes.

Denmark, March 2026

There were no candidates in Denmark’s parliamentary election who were closely aligned with Trump. Nevertheless, the vote took place against the backdrop of the American president’s renewed threats at the start of 2026 to seize Greenland, which led to rising support for incumbent Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen and her Social Democrats, whose support rose overnight from 16% to 21%. Frederiksen decided to seize the opportunity and call an election several months early.

Clashes with Trump lifted support for the party led by Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen from 16% to 21% overnight

In the end, the Social Democrats won 21.9% of the vote. It was the party’s worst result since 1903, but it proved enough to form a coalition (the center-left bloc secured 84 of 179 seats) and keep Frederiksen in office as prime minister.

Hungary, April 2026

The defeat of Viktor Orbán in Hungary’s election was perhaps the most painful setback for the MAGA movement, as Trump had directly declared his support for Orbán several times. Just days before the vote, Vice President J. D. Vance traveled to Budapest specifically to back Orbán, speaking at a rally of his supporters. Before his speech, Vance called Trump, who said he was “a big fan of Viktor” and fully supported him.

In addition, two days before the election, Trump promised to “use the full economic might of the United States” to help the Hungarian economy — provided that Orbán won.

Such direct interference did not help the incumbent, who had been in power since 2010. On the contrary, it sharpened the choice between a European future and continued isolation — after all, Vance explicitly criticized “Brussels bureaucrats” in his speech. This led to record turnout that saw the opposition Tisza Party of Péter Magyar win 138 out of 199 seats in parliament.

The defeat was painful for Trump in part because Orbán had been an important figure for shaping the global MAGA agenda, a kind of model for Europe’s right-wing leaders. In addition, the Trump White House benefited from Orbán’s frequent conflicts with the European Union and from the possibility of using Hungary’s veto power in votes to divide and weaken Europe.

New York, November 2025

In addition to foreign elections, Trump has also tried to influence domestic voters. His confrontation with New York City mayoral candidate Zohran Mamdani became especially intense.

Ahead of the election, the U.S. president backed Andrew Cuomo, who was running as an independent candidate. Trump took to Truth Social, openly urging voters to support Cuomo. He called Mamdani a “communist,” questioned his citizenship, and hinted at his possible looming arrest. In addition, he threatened to cut federal funding for the city if Mamdani won.

Trump called Mamdani a “communist” and questioned his citizenship

“Whether you personally like Andrew Cuomo or not, you really have no choice. You must vote for him,” Trump wrote on his social media platform, adding that if Mamdani won, New York would experience a complete economic and social collapse.

In the end, Mamdani won 50.4% of the vote against 41.6% for Cuomo. Commenting on the result, Trump said that it had happened only because he himself was not on the ballot.

Scary disapproval ratings

The United States has always been an important ally of Australia and Canada, with trust levels remaining high even during Trump’s first term. However, in 2025 this changed dramatically. According to a poll conducted in March 2025 by the Lowy Institute, the share of Australians who trusted the United States to act responsibly in the world fell to 36% — a full 20 percentage points lower than in 2024 and the lowest level in the past 20 years.

At the same time, Trump was also setting personal records for low trust levels among Australians. In March, 72% of respondents said they were not confident in his ability to do the right thing on major global issues, placing him at roughly the same level as Xi Jinping (though still comfortably better than Vladimir Putin).

A Politico poll conducted at the end of 2025 showed that the American president was unpopular in Europe even among supporters of the same right-wing populist parties that he considers to be his allies. In France and Germany, only one-third of supporters of right-wing parties viewed Trump’s performance positively.

With rare exceptions, Trump’s numbers were poor elsewhere as well. A survey conducted by The Guardian in spring 2025 found low levels of confidence in Trump’s foreign policy among Canadians, Argentines, Brazilians, Mexicans, and a wide range of Europeans.

Different outcomes

Despite the numerous cases recounted above, Trump’s endorsement of a candidate is not always a “kiss of death.” In countries where society traditionally supports conservative ideas — and where Trump’s chaotic foreign policy does not seriously affect national interests — the prospect of closer ties with such a powerful ally as the United States can still work to a candidate’s advantage.

In June 2025, conservative Karol Nawrocki won the second round of Poland’s presidential election after officials in Washington had urged voters to support him. A month before the election, Trump hosted Nawrocki at the White House, and a week before the vote then-Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem visited Poland to stump for the conservative candidate.

In October 2025, Trump actively backed Argentina’s incumbent leader Javier Milei ahead of parliamentary elections. During a meeting, Trump called the Argentine president a supporter of MAGA (an abbreviation that also works for Argentina). He also hinted that the United States would halt $20 billion in financial assistance if Milei’s party failed to win a majority.

“If he loses, we are not going to be generous with Argentina,” Trump said openly. In the end, Milei’s La Libertad Avanza won with 39% of the vote.

In December 2025, conservative Honduran presidential candidate Nasry Asfura also won with Trump’s backing. Several days before the vote, Trump said that Asfura was the only Honduran candidate with whom the U.S. administration was prepared to work.

In February 2026, Trump also publicly endorsed Japanese prime minister Sanae Takaichi ahead of parliamentary elections, calling her a “strong, influential, and wise leader.” He expressed full support for her Liberal Democratic party, which won 316 of 465 seats in the lower house.

America can wait

One of the central ideas of the MAGA movement is “America First.” Under this slogan, Trump imposes trade tariffs and repeatedly promises “great deals” and a “golden age” for the United States. However, such priorities can clearly be a liability when it comes to building an alliance of right-wing politicians around the world. Nationalists, whom Trump often chooses as his allies, find it difficult to publicly befriend someone who threatens their country with higher tariffs or uses economic aid as leverage.

As a result, voters often conclude that they do not care to vote for a Trump-like candidate, but rather for a prospective national leader who is prepared to stand up to him — even if that person is also a populist, albeit of the left-wing variety.

Whether more foreign politicians will distance themselves from Trump in the future will depend on national interests. In countries where U.S. interference in domestic politics is a sensitive issue (as in Europe), an alliance with Trump will clearly be a liability. Nevertheless, where economic or military partnership with the United States is more of an asset (as in Honduras), Trump’s backing may become the key to victory.

According to the report, 37-year-old Alexander Okunev arrived at the memorial, which has a permanently burning gas torch in front of it — the so-called “Eternal Flame” — at around 5 a.m. on Feb. 24, 2025. The date marked the third anniversary of the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Okunev wrote “No to war” on the snow and set himself on fire. His body was discovered by a passerby only at around 6:40 a.m., even though the monument is supposedly under CCTV surveillance.

Alexander Okunev was not a public activist. He worked as a systems administrator for a company that sold retail equipment, avoided discussing politics, lived alone, and rarely interacted with his colleagues. Acquaintances described him as a withdrawn but kind and helpful person. Several months before the incident, he quit his job and almost completely stopped communicating with others.

After Okunev’s body was discovered, officers from Russia’s Investigative Committee arrived at the scene. The incident was listed in the daily police report, but no details were made public.  According to the reports, the authorities quickly took control of the situation and did everything possible to prevent any publicity. The outlets’ sources said the main priority was to remove the body quickly and erase the message written in the snow. Within a couple of hours, all traces of what had happened had reportedly been eliminated. The officials' main concern appeared to be that the media might learn about the incident.

Who covered up Okunev’s death:

• Elena Dyatlova, the head of the city administration, was informed about the incident and immediately took personal control of the situation.
• She was assisted by Yevgeny Maslov, the head of the local cultural heritage protection service.
• Andrei Yermak, Minister of Culture and Tourism of the Kaliningrad Region, was particularly concerned that the self-immolation took place near a World War II memorial, which he deemed an “excessive symbolic” choice.

Maria Zholobova, a journalist for IStories, noted that she initially could not find any traces of the incident.

“I tried to find out more about this incident, but quickly realized I couldn’t find a single news report. I looked through local communities, searched by keywords — nothing. I even checked court decisions. It seemed strange. An event of this scale seems impossible to cover up. As it turned out, it absolutely can be covered up. The Kaliningrad authorities did everything to make that happen.”

No local media outlets reported on the self-immolation. The information did not appear in Telegram channels or on social media. Okunev’s relatives also did not seek publicity. “What’s the point of publicizing it and talking about it? For what?” one of them said. According to his relatives, in a farewell note, Okunev wrote about wanting to live in a world without war. “He wrote that there is another way. Apparently, he meant a world with peace. And he didn't want to live in the world we have, so he made this decision....” “But we are all aware that world peace is a utopia,” a close friend of Okunev recounted to IStories. The note also suggested that Okunev understood that “most likely, it will not be in the news anywhere, it will not be widely covered.” “But now we know about him,” Zholobova added.

According to the investigation, forensic examinations carried out after the incident found no evidence of external pressure on Okunev. His relatives and colleagues were questioned, but none could explain his decision. “Even if Alexander Okunev’s death had not gone unnoticed, it would hardly have sparked mass protests. Still, it undermines the idea of universal consent to the war [in Russia],” Zholobova noted.

The Kaliningrad city administration, as well as other Russian government agencies, did not respond to the journalists’ requests. The regional Minister of Culture said he was not familiar with the details of the investigation.

Orbán is difficult to compare to other leaders who have also caused considerable irritation in Brussels. These include Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico, who shifted from a “model” social democrat to a populist, and Poland’s former conservative leaders Beata Szydło and Mateusz Morawiecki of the Law and Justice (PiS) party, known for anti-migration policies and nation-first rhetoric.

Orbán became a symbol of undermining European unity, elevated to the core of his political strategy. He repeatedly crossed both formal and informal “red lines,” building ties with Vladimir Putin, adopting anti-democratic laws, curbing freedom of speech and the judiciary, and effectively accepting — largely in pursuit of personal ambitions — multibillion-euro losses for Hungary through frozen EU funds, reduced investment and reputational damage.

Orbán’s actions at times looked irrational but proved politically effective, forcing major European powers into concessions and scoring points with domestic audiences. His departure marks a turning point, ending a period in which a single politician could exploit veto power to block progress in a union of more than 450 million people, especially during crises.

His defeat also symbolically weakens right-wing Euroskepticism, for which he served as a leading figure. Bloomberg may have moved too quickly in linking Hungary’s election outcome with Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni’s referendum setback on judicial reform and declaring a left-wing resurgence in Europe. But Merz also called it a “serious blow to right-wing populism,” while European People’s Party (EPP) leader Manfred Weber said the far-right had lost a “role model.”

Orbán was not a classic far-right figure but readily used radical right rhetoric. In 2021, his party Fidesz left the EPP and later co-founded the “Patriots for Europe” group in the current European Parliament.

However, a key difference separated Fidesz from its allies — France’s National Rally, Austria’s Freedom Party and Spain’s Vox: only Orbán led a national government. That made him an informal symbol of the success of an anti-European project from within Europe itself.

There is little doubt that Orbán’s defeat is a setback for both Putin and Donald Trump. At the first post-election EU leaders’ meeting in Cyprus, Tusk remarked: “For the first time in years, there are no Russians left in the room,” a thinly veiled reference to Orbán’s pro-Russian stance and leaks of confidential information to Moscow. Putin has lost a “Trojan horse” in the EU, and neither Fico nor anyone else can fully replace him.

Orbán’s defeat is a setback for both Putin and Trump

For a Europe currently in open conflict with Washington, Orbán’s defeat is not merely a jab at Trump. The White House had strongly backed the Fidesz leader ahead of the vote, with Trump praising him and Vice President JD Vance making a last-minute trip to Budapest.

Following the defeat of what U.S. ultraconservatives called an “illiberal democrat,” MAGA ideologues appear genuinely unsettled. Support from across the Atlantic failed to help their preferred “traditionalist European,” highlighting the limits of U.S. influence over European politics — a lesson Trump will have to absorb.

The practical effects of removing what German media dubbed “Europe’s chief blocker” are already visible. Hungary lifted its veto on both the EU’s 20th sanctions package against Moscow and a two-year €90 billion loan to Ukraine.

Although this formally followed the resumption of the Druzhba pipeline — a key demand of Budapest and Bratislava — the timing suggests a link to the expected change in power. It ended months of uncertainty that exposed the weakness of EU institutions and complicated planning for both Brussels and Kyiv.

It is also notable that despite having strong backing from Moscow and Washington, Orbán did not attempt to influence the election outcome through undemocratic means. His reaction resembled that of a democratic leader.

By the night of April 12-13, he had publicly conceded defeat, congratulated Magyar on his victory and called for a sweeping renewal of Fidesz. A few days later, he gave an emotional interview describing feelings of “fatigue, pain and emptiness” and his readiness to organize the transfer of power. It was a sign of the European democratic project’s resilience: even its “chief troublemaker” played by the rules at the defining moment of his career.

The Euroskeptics are still around

The end of Orban’s rule weakened nationalists and strengthened the European Union. Euroskeptics did not hide their disappointment. Philipp Turek, the controversial millionaire and honorary chairman of the right-wing Motorists party, which is part of the current Czech government, was blunt: “I fear we have lost a very strong ally in Europe.”

There is little doubt that Czech Prime Minister Andrej Babiš, like Fico in neighboring Slovakia, understands that the right-wing trend is time-limited, sensitive to changing circumstances, and that populists can lose power just as quickly as they gain it. But Orban and his allies are better understood as a symptom, a reaction to internal developments within the European bloc. EU leadership risks making a serious mistake if it focuses on fighting the symptoms rather than the disease.

In recent years, the idea of a “multi-speed Europe” has gained traction in the EU. The concept was that economically and politically stronger states, like France, Germany, and Italy, would deepen integration more rapidly than weaker states, or those unwilling to speed up their cooperation for various reasons. In principle such a model was meant to enable more efficient consensus-building, without losing time to endless coordination. To paraphrase the idea, a multi-speed Europe already exists, albeit in another form. Even after Orban’s departure, forces that are fundamentally at odds with the current Brussels mainstream remain in power in several European capitals.

The Euroskeptics’ primary tool remains the veto, which any EU member state can use on almost all fundamental decisions, from foreign policy and defense to the budget and EU enlargement. There are only two ways to move from unanimity to majority voting: changing the Treaty on European Union or changing the voting rules in a specific policy area by decision of the European Council. Both require unanimous approval.

Orban made the veto the hallmark of his political style, but he is far from the only leader to have used it. A week after a majority of Hungarians showed Orban the “red card”, a majority of Bulgarians voted in parliamentary elections in a way that allowed Rumen Radev, a retired general and former president, to form a single-party government in the near future. Radev, who supports “dialogue with Russia” and opposes “Eurobureaucrats,” anti-Russian sanctions, arms supplies to Ukraine, and EU enlargement, sees the veto as an important part of Bulgarian sovereignty.

Moreover, the tool is supported not only by Euroskeptics. For pro-European governments in Austria, the Baltic states, and Malta, it is a way to preserve the ability to defend national interests and oppose larger political players. Finding a compromise here will be much harder than agreeing with Magyar on Hungary’s new foreign policy course.

Orban’s defeat was not a knockout blow to Europe’s right-wing populists. Alternative for Germany has only strengthened its position and leads national polls with a record result, several percentage points ahead of Merz’s conservatives. France will hold a presidential election in a year. Emmanuel Macron has already said he will leave politics after his second term ends. The National Rally and its likely presidential candidate, Jordan Bardella, are leading in the polls. Belgian and Austrian far-right parties also lead in their countries.

Orban’s defeat was not a knockout blow to Europe’s right-wing populists

It would be premature to assume that the change of power in Budapest will guarantee effective, substantial, and most importantly, long-term support for Ukraine. Magyar is unlikely to block financial aid to Kyiv in the near future. Hungary may, however, refuse to participate in it. That would, however, allow for clearer and more predictable planning. Still, Germany’s formula of “support for as long as it takes,” which Berlin has used since 2022, does not appeal to everyone. By 2029 at the latest, Brussels will once again have to revisit the issue of multibillion-euro aid for Kyiv.

It may happen even sooner. According to The Wall Street Journal, the 90 billion euros allocated to Ukraine may not be enough, and Kyiv may need an additional 19 billion euros. Against the backdrop of a chain of crises in Europe, the world, and individual European states, as well as tightening national budgets and painful reforms, the number of disgruntled voters will only grow.

It will be even harder to achieve unity on Ukraine’s EU membership. In some ways, Orban’s departure has played a cruel trick on Brussels. Previously, the Hungarian prime minister’s consistent and public “no” served as a kind of alibi for EU leaders. Now Kyiv will likely press its partners with uncomfortable questions more insistently. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky has rejected the idea of “symbolic” or “partial” membership for his country.

Morally, there is little to say against the president’s argument: Ukraine is paying a huge price for the right to be part of the European family of nations and is defending Europe. Yet even the boldest observer will struggle to imagine Ukraine’s swift and successful accession to the EU, from the work of negotiating teams to ratification of the final treaty by national parliaments. A forced “neither yes nor no” will inevitably create friction between Kyiv and Brussels.

The farther from Ukraine, the greater the disagreements

Functionally, Orbán’s departure is a victory for a united Europe. Other European leaders close to him in spirit are unlikely to obstruct the majority of initiatives so irrationally and consistently. But the change of power in Budapest does not resolve Europe’s five main challenges.

First, what should be done with Euroskeptics, who represent the interests of at least a quarter of all European voters? There are three strategies: more active preventive EU work inside member states to persuade voters not to give opponents of European unity a mandate to govern, fighting Euroskeptic movements, or trying to integrate them. None of these strategies offers a definitive solution, and each carries drawbacks.

Second, it remains unclear how mainstream European politicians should communicate with voters about continuing increases in spending. Europe is under strain. In Germany, the government is discussing health insurance reform that could significantly raise contributions while cutting services.

Belgium is planning sharp cuts to social spending. France is facing new budget restrictions, while Poland is expected to raise the retirement age. In such circumstances, it is difficult to find the right political language to justify the need for multibillion-euro investments in defense and security, as well as aid to Ukraine.

Third, Merz’s statements that Ukraine will not join the EU quickly are telling, let alone the possible territorial concessions. After Orbán’s defeat, Europe will have to create a new framework for relations with Kyiv and provide more specific answers about the prospect of full membership. This is not merely a dialogue between the 27 EU states and Ukraine.

At least two EU membership candidates, Montenegro and Albania, have held that status since 2010 and 2014, respectively. These countries have diligently fulfilled political, economic, and monetary requirements, carried out numerous reforms, and already advanced far along the path. They should be full participants in the discussion about the order of EU accession.

After Orbán’s defeat, Europe will have to create a new format for relations with Ukraine

Fourth, not everyone in the EU agrees with the bloc’s transformation — in practice, though not acknowledged openly — from a political and economic union into a political and military one. In the fifth year of a major European war, geography still matters: the farther a country is from the battlefield in Ukraine and from Russia, the lower its sense of threat from Moscow. Confrontation with Russia and the necessary rearmament are long-term projects, just like support for Ukraine, if not longer. They require maximum will and resolve from Europeans.

Fifth, the loss of the premiership by Europe’s leading Trump ally was a rebuke to the U.S. administration and a signal to the American president’s circle, but in practice it does nothing to shape the EU’s strategy toward the United States. Trump starts military conflicts without consulting European allies and does not account for the risks they face. Washington has once again questioned the value of U.S. membership in NATO and threatened Spain with expulsion from the alliance over its refusal to cooperate in the war against Iran.

Although NATO’s founding documents do not provide for expelling members, the risk of the American “umbrella” collapsing before Europe can ensure its own security is not so small. The EU has learned to push back firmly against the United States, as the conflict over Greenland showed, but in the second year of Trump’s presidency it still appears to lack a clear strategy for relations with the White House and for confronting Trumpism as a phenomenon.

Europe’s main “bad guy” is gone, giving the EU a chance to increase its consolidation, effectiveness, and ultimately, agency. But the challenges facing the largest democratic union of states in world history remain very much in place.

The slim young man with short darkish blond hair appears harmless in his FBI “Most Wanted” photo. But Vladislav Borovkov, a member of Russia’s most notorious black ops unit, stands accused of "criminal cyber activities," specifically using malicious software to disable critical infrastructure in more than a dozen Western countries.

GRU Unit 29155, the Russian military intelligence grouping to which Borovkov belongs, is behind some of the boldest kinetic operations carried out against NATO interests over the past decade and a half. It has poisoned defectors and arms dealers, bombed ammunition and weapons depots, suborned the Taliban to kill U.S. and coalition forces in Afghanistan, and likely deployed directed energy attacks against U.S. spies and diplomats, causing them to experience Anomalous Health Incidents, or “Havana Syndrome.”

Borovkov doesn’t have much of a biography beyond what the U.S. Department of Justice included in his indictment, only that he started his professional career as a cyberoperative immediately after finishing university. (The Insider reported on 29155’s hacking unit in 2025.)  In Borovkov’s case, however, higher education was itself a revealing bullet point on his c.v. — the school he attended, Moscow’s Bauman University, is a kind of Hogwarts for Russian spooks.

Located about four kilometers from Red Square, Bauman’s monumental main building stretches for hundreds of meters along the bank of the Yauza, a small tributary of the Moskva River.

The Insider, together with Le Monde, Der Spiegel, The Guardian, Delfi, and VSquare, has analyzed more than 2,000 internal documents from Bauman University. They provide deep new insight into one of Russia’s many spy schools. The trove includes curricula, contracts, propaganda material, presentations, photos from classes, and lists of students, graduates, and teachers  from the years 2022 to 2024.

According to one Western intelligence official, the collection, leaked by an anonymous source, amounts to a “yearbook directory for incoming GRU operatives.”

Since its founding in 1830, Bauman University has been one of Russia's most renowned technical universities, the equivalent of MIT — with an emphasis on computer science and an enrollment upwards of 30,000. "Courage, will, work, persistence" is its motto.

But the university has a function beyond just training Russia’s next generation of coders. Nestled within the transparent degree programs, from mechanical engineering to aerospace technology, is a secret faculty with the deliberately meaningless title of Department 4, also known as “Special Training.” Here students are prepared to become officers, hackers, saboteurs for the GRU.

The spy school is divided into three “military specializations.” One of them, bearing the code 093400 and the name “Special Service for Intelligence,” is where undergraduates are taught information warfare, electronic reconnaissance, and IT-related special competencies. The GRU directly influences the course curriculum by  defining qualification requirements, approving candidates, and signing off on academic expenses.

Some of the highest-ranking hackers from Russian military intelligence are also on staff as lecturers, and much of the curriculum reads as if it were written by the intelligence officers themselves. “It is fair to say that companies, universities, and educational staff involved in this process are complicit in developing and supporting Russia’s hybrid warfare capabilities, and therefore, could also be subject to countermeasures, such as sanctions,” an analyst at the European Centre of Excellence for Countering Hybrid Threats told The Insider.

Some of the highest-ranking hackers from Russian military intelligence are on staff as lecturers, and much of the curriculum reads as if it were written by the intelligence officers themselves

For instance, anyone taking the course “Defense Against Technical Reconnaissance” learns — in a total of 144 hours over the course of two semesters — the complete toolkit of modern hackers. This includes all digital burglary tools for breaking into foreign servers, from simple spearphishing attempts to exploiting known IT vulnerabilities to more sophisticated Trojan horse viruses. There are also “penetration testing with viruses,” i.e. hacking exercises. Module 6 is dedicated entirely to computer viruses, and the final assignment is to program one’s own bespoke malware.

Tools and techniques for waging Distributed Denial of Service (DDoS) attacks are also part of the curriculum. Customers of the Deutsche Bahn, Germany’s national rail operator, recently had to contend with such an attack, in which countless computers organized in botnets automatically access online providers, crippling the app for several hours. In 2007, a Russian-linked DDoS swarm hobbled Estonia’s government and banking sectors, leading to the Baltic country’s reinvention as one of NATO’s main hubs for cybersecurity.

The worst cyberattack in history was also perpetrated by a GRU team whose ranks are filled with notable Department 4 graduates. In 2017 “NotPetya” (aka “Sandworm”), launched by Unit 74455, affected more than 160 countries and shut down operations by Danish shipping company Maersk and U.S. pharmaceutical giant Merck, not to mention mission-critical hospital computers in Pennsylvania, at a cost of almost a billion dollars. Other victims of Sandworm have included Ukraine’s power grid, state treasury, and finance ministry, a host of Georgian government and privately-run websites and television stations, the Organisation for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons, the 2018 Winter Olympics in South Korea, and French President Emmanuel Macron’s political campaign.

The worst cyberattack in history, “NotPetya” in 2017, was also perpetrated by a GRU team whose ranks are filled with notable Department 4 graduates

One of the hacking unit’s newest and youngest recruits is Alexei Kondrashov, who graduated from Bauman’s Department 4 in 2024 with the rank of lieutenant. In photos on the Russian social network VK, he is shown sporting a Justin Bieber hairstyle and beanie hat. “The end of the school year - let's burn the textbooks!" he posted in Russian. Only one image hints at what’s to come: Kondrashov is running through a forest with a rifle at what looks like a military summer camp. Sandworm was his first job out of school.

Kondrashov did not reply to The Insider’s request for comment.

In 2024, a total of 1,563 reservists and 429 prospective contract officers studied at the department, specializing in 14 military areas. They all underwent basic training, and photos from the training camps show several camouflage-clad young men — some of them overweight —  in combat gear struggling on climbing poles and doing shooting exercises with a pistol.

A three-page document contains strict rules for basic training: all participants must have neat haircuts, be clean-shaven, and remain substance-free for a full calendar month, "including beer and many other things of the good life." Fraternization and sex are strictly forbidden.

Anyone who survives basic training moves on to a course in espionage technology taught by Department 4’s deputy head, Lieutenant Colonel Kirill Stupakov. In a 34-page PowerPoint presentation for one of his lectures, various methods are depicted for how telephones can be tapped or conversations in opposite buildings can be eavesdropped on using directional microphones. One slide shows a smoke detector in which a small camera is hidden. For spying over long distances, Stupakov recommends a high-quality spotting scope from Nikon.

In another three-hour teaching unit, Stupakov instructs trainees in countersurveillance, and how to detect bugs and other listening devices.

Stupakov, born in 1982, isn’t just a peddler of theory; he’s an experienced practitioner. Records show he studied radio technology at a military university in Cherepovets, about 186 miles north of Moscow. Between 2004 and 2008, he was registered at an address attributed to GRU Unit 61230, which specializes in signals intelligence. In the following years, he worked at several military academies and has been working at the Military Training Center since at least 2018. In 2022, according to another document, that he signed a three-year contract with GRU Unit 45807.

Internal evaluations paint the picture of a model officer: Stupakov is "purposeful," "disciplined," and "energetic," with "excellent physical fitness," "pronounced leadership quality," and "high professionalism."

Be that as it may, in private Telegram chats that The Insider and Der Spiegel were able to analyze, he is quite garrulous about what he sees as the severe shortcomings of his own leadership. He mocks ex-President Dmitry Medvedev as an alcoholic, calls Vladimir Putin an “old man" and insults the Chief of General Staff Valery Gerasimov as a "stupid cunt." Stupakov looks upon the war against Ukraine with pessimism, complaining about high losses and prophesying that the conflict will "end badly for us."

Stupakov and his colleagues hammer completely different messages into their students, of course. The "special [military] operation" in Ukraine, as Moscow euphemistically calls its war of aggression, was "inevitable" due to the “nationalists and neo-Nazis” ruling in Kyiv, the teaching materials insist. A daily newsletter circulating at the university spreads slogans of perseverance: "Strike our enemies as our fathers, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers did."

Bauman’s GRU hackers

Stupakov brought several of the GRU’s highest-ranking hackers onto his teaching team. An exam session preparation letter dated February 16, 2024 is initialed and signed by "V. Netyksho” — Viktor Netyksho, the GRU general who was in charge of Unit 26165, or “Fancy Bear,” back in 2016, when it was busy stealing emails from the Democratic National Committee. In July 2018, Netyksho was indicted, along with 11 other GRU operatives, by U.S. Special Counsel Robert Mueller for “committing federal crimes that were intended to interfere with the 2016 U.S. presidential election.” 

Another letter bears the signature of Yuri Shikolenko, a high-ranking GRU officer who has been sanctioned by the UK since July 2025 for his role in numerous cyberattacks.

Stupakov, Netyksho and Shikolenko did not answer The Insider’s request for comment on this story.

Department 4 has a particular interest in the United States, especially when it comes to countermanding America’s military and intelligence capabilities. Its lecturers teach young cadres how the CIA, FBI, and NSA work. One lecture is devoted entirely to the field equipment in use by the U.S. Army.

Department 4 has a particular interest in the United States, especially when it comes to countermanding America’s military and intelligence capabilities

The department also keeps up to date with military technology and the changing landscape of war in the 21st century. On a 54-page PowerPoint slide, different drone types are listed, including the U.S. “Switchblade 300,” the British “Black Hornet” reconnaissance drone, and the vertically-launching German “Vector.” All, not coincidentally, are now in use by the Armed Forces of Ukraine.

Students also do coursework on the protected computer networks of the United States Department of Defense, namely on how to "exploit vulnerabilities" using Metasploit, an open-source cybersecurity platform identified in recent cyberattacks against Ukrainian government sites.

How systematically the Russian leadership is working to undermine Western societies with fake news and propaganda can be seen from a 31-page Department 4 seminar overview. For advanced students, the group seminar "Developing a Propaganda Campaign" is mandatory. The task description for the practical exercise: "Create a social video for any topic using manipulation, pressure, and hidden propaganda to promote or refute 'hot' topic." The title of another lecture is: "Propaganda, Agitation, Manipulation, and Persuasion."

Internships at sanctioned state companies

Like any tech-oriented Western university, Bauman acts as a clearinghouse for new talent to the private and public sectors. Department 4 students undertake internships in GRU units within Russian state-owned enterprises. One of these,"Granit," a specialist in the rehabilitation of air defense systems, was sanctioned by the European Union in February 2024 for its support of Russia’s Black Sea Fleet. "Malakhit," a St. Petersburg-based marine engineering company involved in Russia’s submarine industry, has also taken on Department 4 interns. The company was sanctioned by both the EU and United States for its role in the full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

Somehow, other entities fielding Department 4 students, such as the "Gamma" research center on information systems protection, or the "Dolomit" hydrocarbon concern in Dagestan, have gone unsanctioned.

Last April, the Russian head of state paid a visit to Bauman’s campus, gladhanding its undergraduates and discussing the nation’s developments in quantum technologies and space exploration. No mention was made of Department 4 or its unique curriculum. “You have everything it takes to be competitive,” Vladimir Putin told the students.

The economic burden of population outflows lies primarily with the countries of origin. According to an IMF analysis, the departure of 20 million people from Eastern Europe (roughly 5.5% of the total population) between 1995 and 2013 led to an 8-percentage-point decline in population growth, a 6-percentage-point drop in labor productivity, and a slowdown in economic growth of 0.6–0.9 percentage points per year. Social spending consumed 6.2 percentage points more of the GDP than it would have if healthy, working-age citizens had remained in the country. A 1-percentage-point increase in emigration led to a 4.4% rise in the tax burden on those who remained.

India's experience demonstrates how the emigration of highly skilled workers can result in an estimated 2.5% annual loss in tax revenue. In the IT sector alone, these losses are estimated at $15–20 billion per year, while the country’s total losses from “brain drain” may reach $160 billion annually.

The outflow of talent from India reduces the country’s tax revenues by about 2.5% annually. In the IT sector alone, losses amount to $15–20 billion per year

More than 7% of India’s IT graduates move abroad. For the most prestigious colleges, this number is much higher. 31% from the Indian Institute of Technology’s Bombay branch, and nearly 50% from its Kharagpur campus.

The most educated and successful individuals are more likely to emigrate. While only 5.2% of Russia’s scientists are internationally mobile, they account for 28% of citations — a metric commonly used to measure research productivity. Until 2008, Russia’s emigration was composed primarily of these specialists. Although some returned after completing their studies abroad, the most productive scientists left permanently. Many specialists return home after encountering significant professional or social barriers to establishing themselves in the West; however, even they have a higher citation rate than those who never attempted to emigrate.

Highly educated migrants often experience 'brain waste,' filling roles that do not utilise their full professional capacity and generating less economic value for the destination country than they would have at home. According to 2021 data from the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), this applies to about one-third of highly skilled migrants worldwide — roughly twice the rate among native-born populations. The highest levels of this mismatch are recorded in South Korea (73%), Canada (57%), and Costa Rica (56%).

Amid the global trend for population ageing, the outflow of skilled workers hits the healthcare sector hardest in poorer countries. According to the World Health Organisation, in 2021–2023, approximately 89,000 doctors and 257,000 nurses from countries already facing critical healthcare staff shortages were working in OECD countries.

Amid the global trend for population ageing, the outflow of skilled workers hits the healthcare sector hardest in poorer countries

From 2010 to 2020, the share of foreign medical professionals in eight OECD countries with an already high density of doctors per capita grew from 32% to 36%. Universal health coverage requires a minimum of 20.7 doctors per 10,000 people. While Europe has 43 doctors per 10,000 people, Africa only has two.

Official statistics from Nigeria’s Federal Ministry of Health show that over the past five years, the country has lost at least 16,000 medical professionals due to emigration. At the same time, Nigeria itself has only 55,000 licensed doctors for a population of more than 200 million — roughly one doctor per 4,000 patients.

In some African and Latin American countries, more than half the healthcare professionals have emigrated: 77% in Liberia and 54% in Guyana. In 2020, 12% of all nurses worldwide were working outside their countries of origin.

As a result, researchers estimate that developing countries collectively lose about $16 billion a year due to the migration of doctors to developed countries. Kenya, for one, loses roughly $500,000 per year for each emigrating doctor and $339,000 for each nurse.

Positive impact

Emigrants do not abandon the lives they led in their home countries after leaving. Roughly 30% of them return within 20 years, bringing back contacts, skills, knowledge, and money for investment. As such, emigrants from the former Yugoslavia who returned in the first half of the 2000s contributed about 6% to the growth of exports from their countries, thanks to connections and experience gained abroad. The rapid growth of India’s IT sector in the 1990s and 2000s was driven in part by members of the diaspora, who had founded major IT companies and venture capital funds and had the contacts and expertise to build these businesses and bring them to the global market.

Those living abroad transfer knowledge and technology, attract or make investments, and stimulate international trade. In India, the startup ecosystem continues to receive a significant share of funding from the diaspora abroad. Additionally, emigrants offer access to advanced technologies for their compatriots, helping accelerate the country’s development.

Emigrants transfer knowledge and technology to their home countries, attract or make investments themselves, and stimulate international trade

According to research, a 10% increase in immigration boosts trade volume between the destination country and the country of origin by 1–2%. In the case of the United States, a 1% increase in immigrants from a given country raises U.S. investment in that country by 0.35–0.42%. For highly educated immigrants, this rate can reach 0.41–0.52%.

Those who move abroad increase the visibility and productivity of their compatriots at home. Chinese scientists who emigrated made a major contribution to China’s rise as a global science leader between 2000 and 2015 by collaborating on research with colleagues who stayed in the country.

69% of all papers involving Chinese researchers included at least one member of the diaspora as a co-author, which doubled their citation rate. As a result of the increased citation rate, within a single generation, Chinese science moved away from the periphery and came closer to the level seen in the United States.

A similar situation is observed among European scientists in the United States. After moving to the global hub of science, they begin to file patents 42% more often than their counterparts in Europe. At the same time, if one co-author leaves, the productivity of those who remain increases by about 18%.

Overall, if the European Union tried to rein in emigration by lowering taxes for returnees, it would gain about 5% growth in the short term, but lose 6% after 25 years. By contrast, doubling the number of migrants from the EU to the United States would increase productivity in both economies by about 9%.

Doubling the number of migrants from the EU to the United States would increase productivity in both economies by about 9%

Some researchers argue that even authoritarian regimes could benefit from leaders who were educated in Western countries. Upon coming to power at home, such leaders could temporarily improve the country’s democracy index. Even North Korea’s Kim Jong Un, who studied in Switzerland, has promoted women to senior positions within the party apparatus. He is also rumored to be preparing his daughter as his potential successor.

Emigrants from Moldova send substantial remittances back home, accounting for about 12–16% of the country’s GDP (over the 30 years since the collapse of the USSR, 40% of the population has left the country). They also actively vote in elections, significantly contributing to the country’s pro-European orientation. Political emigration can directly support domestic opposition through resources and advocacy efforts.

At the same time, evidence is also emerging that migrants living in countries experiencing a rise in right-wing populism may contribute to democratic erosion in their home countries by voting for such politicians from abroad. Similar examples can be found among Latin American diasporas in the United States, as well as among migrants from Sweden and Romania, who tend to vote for right-wing populist candidates in their home countries more actively than their compatriots who remain there.

Money sent back home

Remittances — money transfers sent home by diaspora communities — remain the most important channel through which migrants influence their countries of origin. According to the World Bank, in 2023 these reached $740 billion, of which $656 billion were sent to developing countries — an amount that exceeded both foreign direct investment flowing into these countries and international aid, the latter by a factor of three.

Migrants send 20–50% of their income back to their home countries, and remittances are received by around 800 million people. The most active senders are women, those who have family members in their home country, and those planning to return. Highly educated migrants tend to send remittances less frequently, and after about 10 years in the host country, the amount sent per person begins to decline.

India, which loses up to $160 billion a year due to the emigration of skilled workers, receives about $120 billion back in remittances — the largest flow of such transfers in the world. A similar situation exists in Latin America: the IMF estimates that a 1-percentage-point increase in emigration leads to a 0.29% decline in GDP, but remittances from the diaspora offset this by an amount equivalent to 0.19% of GDP.

However, the effect can vary by region, and some countries tend to lose more than they gain. In Bosnia and Herzegovina, a 1% increase in remittances leads to a 0.53% loss in GDP. Researchers suggest that the effect depends on whether a country’s financial institutions allow diaspora money to be channeled into investment and production, rather than being used solely for consumption.

India, which loses up to $160 billion a year due to the emigration of skilled workers, receives about $120 billion back in remittances — the largest flow of such transfers in the world

On average, roughly 75% of remittances are spent on consumption (food, clothing, and other immediate needs). The remaining funds are invested in education and health (that is, human capital), housing, and business. Remittances can even improve school attendance rates and reduce child mortality. Those who have emigrated also serve as role models, encouraging those who remain to work and study harder and for longer periods.

This effect primarily concerns close relatives. As data on families of Filipino migrants show, children whose fathers have emigrated are 24% more likely to go to college. In other words, migration indirectly improves the quality of human capital in countries of origin, since not all those who prepare for international employment actually emigrate.

Remittances can also be non-monetary. Migrants send back technologies, political culture, and social norms from their host countries to their native societies. A study in Burkina Faso found that returning migrants and members of the diaspora introduced new public health practices into rural communities (such as handwashing and waste management) and worked to improve housing conditions and local infrastructure.

The most notable outcome was the development of prenatal and postnatal care and malaria prevention. In Armenia, during the COVID-19 pandemic, families of migrants who had moved to the Czech Republic actively promoted Western sanitary practices at home and encouraged elderly relatives to follow safety measures, despite the government's policy of downplaying the threat. They demonstrated significantly greater caution than their neighbors who had no relatives abroad.

For many countries, diaspora remittances make up a significant share of national income. Tajikistan ranks second by the share of remittances as a percentage of GDP (39%), receiving $4.6 billion — an amount comparable to half of its state budget revenue. About a quarter of the country’s citizens work abroad, with 95–98% of them in Russia. However, Moscow’s anti-immigrant campaign could threaten regional stability given that frustrated, unemployed populations are an easy target for recruitment by terrorist organizations.

For many countries, diaspora remittances make up a significant share of national income

Ukraine is also a major recipient of remittances, ranking among the top 15 countries globally by total inflows. In 2023, it received about $15 billion from its diaspora, equivalent to 8.5% of the country’s GDP. In 2022, remittances reached $16.8 billion. For comparison, Russia received just over $10 billion in remittances in 2020, or about 0.7% of its GDP. More recent estimates for Russia are unavailable, as bank transfers from the European Union have been blocked and cash flows are difficult to track.

Some advanced economies, such as France and Germany, are also major recipients of remittances. A significant share of these funds likely comes from their citizens working in an even more developed country — Switzerland, for instance — while living and spending their income in their home countries.

Why people leave and why they return

Research suggests that migrants bring the greatest benefit to their home country when they maintain ties to it and return, or plan to return — they contribute more money, knowledge, and skills. But what influences one's decision to leave or to come back?

In the past decade, some Eastern European countries have welcomed back a significant share of citizens who left after the collapse of the socialist bloc. In particular, Poland and the Baltic states have experienced either increasing remigration or even a situation in which the number of people returning is more than those who left. In 2016, about 2.5 million Poles were living abroad, but by 2025, around one million had returned to their homeland.

Citizens of Eastern European countries largely emigrated due to poverty and a lack of jobs. Data from Lithuania show that the pace of emigration directly correlates with unemployment rates. At the same time, the departure of surplus labor eased pressure on the labor market, pushing wages upward. A 1-percentage-point increase in emigration led to a 0.67% rise in wages, with the effect being more pronounced in groups that accounted for the largest share of outflows — most notably young workers.

Some researchers believe that rising labor costs reduced the competitiveness of Eastern European economies. Nevertheless, improvements in economic conditions, lower unemployment, and rising wages have led people to return. This trend was also supported by Brexit, which triggered economic difficulties in the United Kingdom. The UK’s economic difficulties were also caused by the energy crisis at the start of Russia’s full-scale war in Ukraine, which, in turn, contributed to a recession in Germany.

Since emigration is often driven by unemployment caused by insufficient capital investment, some countries deliberately design their education systems with the expectation that “surplus” labor will work abroad and send back remittances that can be invested in development. The Philippines is often cited as an example: some 238,000 Filipino nurses work overseas — more than from India, Poland, and the United Kingdom combined, generating around $8 billion in remittances, which accounts for roughly 2% of the country’s GDP. 

Some countries deliberately design their education systems with the expectation that “surplus” labor will work abroad and send back remittances that can be invested in development

China also trains more healthcare workers than it can employ domestically, partly due to underinvestment in its healthcare system. In some cases, the state assists these professionals in finding jobs abroad, taking a commission of about 10–15% of their salaries in return.

Faced with the departure of a significant share of the population, governments could become concerned with demographic decline, a shrinking tax base, and the need to improve domestic institutions in an effort to attract citizens back. 

Researchers have concluded that this effect increases as emigration rises, up to the point where about 20% of the population has left. After that, it begins to decline, becoming negative as soon as 47.4% of residents have emigrated, at which point institutions tend to deteriorate. When too many people leave, the preferences of the median voter shift, politicians lose incentives to pursue reforms, and the influence of emigrants, as well as the government’s desire to attract them back, becomes insufficient to drive institutional improvement.

What Russia has lost and gained

Throughout its history, Russia has experienced at least five major waves of emigration. For many years, it has been both among the leading host countries and countries of origin. According to UN estimates, 7.6 million immigrants were living in Russia in 2024 (compared with 11.2 million in 2020), while 11 million Russians were living abroad. However, data after 2020 lack precision since the latest censuses were conducted during the pandemic and later in wartime. The total number of Russian emigrants and their descendants may reach 25–30 million people. Most of them live in post-Soviet countries, the U. S., Israel, and Germany.

The migration wave that began after the full-scale invasion of Ukraine is often described as one of the largest in the country’s history. According to various estimates, between 500,000 and 1.3 million people left Russia in the first year of the war alone. However, this surge aligns with the peak of a broader wave that had begun in the first half of the 2010s amid election fraud, protests, and economic stagnation. In the decade preceding the full-scale war, more than 3 million people left Russia.

The country has been losing mostly young, educated, economically active people. According to OutRush, a project studying the current migration wave, Russians who left after the full-scale invasion have an average age of 33. Roughly 86% of emigrants are under 45, and nearly half are between 25 and 34. Around 80% of those who left have higher education, 43% work in IT, and another 21% in culture and science. For comparison, the median age in Russia is 40.5 years, and only 27% of the population has a degree.

Economists warned even before the war that emigration harms the already unbalanced demographics of a rapidly aging country, reduces the tax base, and slows technological progress due to “brain drain.” The IT sector alone lost about 10% of its employees in 2022.

At the same time, many of those who left after the start of the war continue to work for Russian companies and follow domestic news. Three-quarters of the recent emigrants are ready to consider returning if the war ends and the political situation improves.

Russian migrants could transfer money, experience, and technology back to their home country; however, Moscow’s isolationist policies and Western sanctions have largely limited these opportunities. At the same time, this has also slowed further losses of human capital in Russia.

The longer the conflict continues, the greater the gap between migrants and their homeland will become, and the likelihood of their return will become lower. However, an end to the war — and especially a change in the ruling regime — could play a significant role in restoring Russia’s international ties, rebuilding trade, and transferring knowledge and technology.

The March 5 incident involved currency and precious metals that were being transported from Austria to Ukraine. At the time, two armored cash-in-transit vehicles and seven bank employees were detained on Hungarian territory. The vehicles were later returned, but the cash and gold remained in Hungary. Ukrainian authorities said Hungary was holding around $40 million, €35 million (over $41 million), and 9 kilograms of bank gold.

Hungarian authorities said they suspected possible money laundering and launched an investigation. Oschadbank said that the transport was a routine operation carried out under a contract with Austria’s Raiffeisen Bank International.

Ukraine’s Foreign Ministry said that the shipment had been processed in full compliance with all international regulations and that the Hungarian side had been notified about the procedure in advance. Despite that, Kyiv said the cash-in-transit staff, who were listed aswitnesses, were held for more than a day in handcuffs and blindfolds. Ukraine also reported problems with the detainees’ access to medical care.

On March 6, Hungary deported all the bank employees and banned them from entering the Schengen Area for three years.

Hungarian authorities had earlier said that the seized currency and gold would remain in the country during an investigation into their origin and intended use.

According to the Hungarian outlet Telex, Minister of Construction and Transport János Lázár linked the situation to tensions between Budapest and Kyiv over the suspension of oil deliveries via the Druzhba pipeline. He said that Hungary did not intend to return the funds until the situation was resolved and described the transport of large sums of cash as “suspicious.”

Now, according to Zelensky, the seized assets have been returned to Ukraine. The terms of the return have not been disclosed.

In Miftakhov’s account, IK-18 employee Mikhail Sobolev appears as one of the main perpetrators of the torture. Miftakhov said Sobolev summoned two inmates who knocked him to the floor, tied him up with tape, and began beating him. Miftakhov says Sobolev personally sat on his back, causing him to suffocate and lose consciousness, hit him on the head, pinched his nose and mouth shut, and took part in threats to rape him and dunk him into a sewer manhole.

According to Miftakhov, Pavel Kiselev was on the second floor of the operations department, where the political prisoner was taken after the first round of torture. There, wires were attached to the prisoner’s toes, and he was tortured with electric shocks while loud music was played to drown out his screams. Miftakhov named Kiselev among the officers present in the room during the torture.

Mikhail Sobolev

The Insider independently confirmed that 40-year-old Mikhail Sobolev from Tyumen works at IK-18, the Polar Owl prison colony in Kharp. According to leaked online databases, Sobolev has served as a FSIN officer at the colony since at least 2022, when his yearly income from IK-18 totaled 1,176,092 rubles (approximately $16,000 at current exchange rates).

Sobolev likely first joined the Federal Penitentiary Service in the summer of 2016, at IK-2 in Tyumen. Traces of his work at that colony appear through at least 2019. Before that, in 2015, Sobolev worked for the private security company Strazh. In 2020, he apparently moved to Kharp: that was when his first links to addresses in the village appeared, while links to addresses in Tyumen ended.

Sobolev’s profile on the Russian social network VK lists the Tyumen Institute for Advanced Training of Interior Ministry Employees under the “Education” section, while the status on his page reads: “Life is beautiful!!!” Among his subscriptions are his employer, the Federal Penitentiary Service directorate for the Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous District, and the communities “Corporation of Evil” and “Moonshiners.”

Mikhail Sobolev’s wife, Viktoria Soboleva, also works in the penitentiary system. In 2022, she served at IK-3, known as Polar Wolf, a prison colony in Kharp where Alexei Navalny was killed in 2024. However, in 2024, Viktoria Soboleva was already listed on the official VK page of the Federal Penitentiary Service directorate for the Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous District as an employee of IK-18 Polar Owl.

The Sobolevs have two children: a 10-year-old son and a 4-year-old daughter. Their son has taken part in Federal Penitentiary Service departmental competitions from an early age. In 2024, he was named best reciter in the “Artistic Word” talent contest for the children of penitentiary system employees. The contest, according to the Federal Penitentiary Service directorate for the Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous District, was held in part “to foster patriotism and civic consciousness, strengthen the authority of the family and traditional family values, and build interest in service at institutions and bodies of the penitentiary system.” At the time, the Sobolevs’ 8-year-old son performed the poem “Shield of the Russian State.”

Pavel Kiselev

The Insider was also able to identify the second man in Miftakhov’s account as Pavel Pavlovich Kiselev, a 35-year-old native of the city of Tavda in the Sverdlovsk Region.

Kiselev has long worked in the Federal Penitentiary Service. According to leaked databases, in 2016-2017 he was linked to IK-5 Metallostroy in St. Petersburg, then worked in institutions under FSIN’s directorate in the Sverdlovsk Region. From 2018 to 2020, he received income from IK-19 in his native Tavda, and from 2020 to 2022 from IK-24 in the village of Azanka in the Tavda District. At IK-24, Kiselev held the post of senior operative officer. In 2022, his income at that colony totaled 754,966 rubles (just over $10,000 at current exchange rates).

Kiselev has been linked to Kharp since 2023. He and his daughter, born in 2016, are mentioned on the VK page of the local elementary school. In February 2026, Kiselev attended a school event wearing the uniform of a Federal Penitentiary Service captain. In the school’s post, he was called “an example of a worthy man and caring father raising two wonderful daughters.” The post was later reposted by the official page of the Federal Penitentiary Service directorate for the Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous District.

Kiselev’s wife,42-year-old Yana Zachinyayeva, is a native of the eastern German city of Dresden. Unlike Mikhail Sobolev’s spouse, she does not work for the Federal Penitentiary Service. Leaked databases also reveal that Zachinyayeva was placed on Russia’s federal wanted list in 2005 after allegedly fleeing investigation and trial in a drug trafficking case.

Zachinyayeva now works in beauty services in Kharp. Her page describes her as a “certified specialist in manicures, pedicures and polymer wax depilation” with five years of experience, and lists her workplace in Kharp’s Molodezhny quarter. Kiselev and Zachinyayeva have two daughters, aged 8 and 9.

A torture colony

Headed by 49-year-old Lt. Col. Alexander Tsybulsky, IK-18 “Polar Owl” in Kharp has long been regarded as one of Russia’s most brutal penal colonies. It primarily holds prisoners serving life sentences, but also has a maximum-security section, where Miftakhov was transferred. Over the years, reports from Polar Owl have described “torture cells,” where prisoners are subjected to abuse at the hands of other inmates on orders from the prison administration as a means of pressure or intimidation.

One of the most high-profile cases involved the mass coercion of confessions. In 2014, a court in the Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous District found former senior operative Yuri Sandrkin of IK-18 and convict Vadim Zhuravlev guilty in a case involving coercion of confessions from prisoners. Under their pressure, Polar Owl inmates confessed to involvement in 190 high-profile crimes, including the killings of journalists Anna Politkovskaya and Paul Klebnikov, as well as Akhmad Kadyrov, the father of Chechnya’s current leader Ramzan Kadyrov. It later emerged that the confessions were false self-incriminations.

Independent outlet Novaya Gazeta reported that IK-18 had created a “conveyor belt” for producing false confessions. Prisoners were forced to write confessions under threats that they would be transferred to cells with “lower-status” inmates or to the aforementioned “torture cells.” Some prisoners said they were beaten and tortured. The court found Sandrkin guilty of abuse of office involving violence or threats of violence and sentenced him to 3.5 years in a general-security penal colony. Zhuravlev received four years, but the sentence did not affect his actual term, as he was already serving life.

Another well-known episode involved the case of neo-Nazi Alexei Voevodin, known by the nickname “SVR” (the acronym for Russia’s foreign intelligence agency), who was sentenced to life in prison for a series of killings motivated by racism and xenophobia. In 2021, Voevodin, inmate Alexander Ageyev, and IK-18 operative Igor Nesterenko went on trial in the Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous District. Voevodin and Ageyev were accused of murdering a cellmate with particular cruelty, causing serious bodily harm to other prisoners, and torture. Nesterenko was charged with abuse of office and organizing prisoner torture.

According to case materials, Voevodin said that after arriving at Polar Owl, an operative offered him to “help the administration manage prisoners” — meaning inmates who complained about the administration or violated internal rules. In exchange, Voevodin said, he was promised everyday privileges. According to his testimony, the “help” involved him and Ageyev beating prisoners placed in their cell, sometimes with a bar of laundry soap wrapped in a towel.

One prisoner, Vladimir Zakharkin, died after such a beating. He had previously complained about incarceration conditions and won a ruling from the European Court of Human Rights, which awarded him 21,000 euros in compensation. After that, Zakharkin hired lawyers and continued filing complaints. According to the version set out in the case materials, he was placed in a cell with Voevodin and Ageyev, where he was beaten and died the same day.

According to FIRMS fire-monitoring data reviewed by The Insider, the fire at the refinery was still burning as of this morning. Satellites detected at least two fire hotspots, one of them on the territory of the refinery’s flare system – a critical safety system used to dispose of flammable gases and vapors.

The refinery had previously come under drone attack in late March, when about 25 drones struck the facility, sparking fires, damaging primary oil processing units, and destroying a 5,000-cubic-meter storage tank. Reuters reported that Kirishinefteorgsintez halted operations after the strikes. According to the agency, the plant processed about 17.5 million tons of oil in 2024, amounting to 6.6% of Russia’s total refining capacity.

The city of Kirishi is about 100 kilometers, or 62 miles, from St. Petersburg and Veliky Novgorod.

Since late March, Ukraine has also regularly attacked Russia’s key oil ports in the Leningrad Region: Ust-Luga and Primorsk. Both ports have temporarily suspended the loading of crude oil amid the strikes.

The proceedings in Zvegintsev and Galkin’s case had been held behind closed doors since the fall of 2024.

Valery Zvegintsev, a researcher at the Khristianovich Institute of Theoretical and Applied Mechanics of the Siberian Branch of the Russian Academy of Sciences and founder of the High-Speed Aerogasdynamics Laboratory, was detained in Novosibirsk in 2023. His colleague and co-author from Tomsk, Vladislav Galkin, was detained later. Both were charged with treason, reportedly over a paper on gas dynamics they had published in a foreign journal.

In 2024, courts sentenced two other scientists from the Institute of Theoretical and Applied Mechanics on treason charges. Former institute director Alexander Shiplyuk received 15 years in prison, while former chief researcher Anatoly Maslov was sentenced to 14 years.

In the spring of 2023, researchers at the institute wrote an open letter in defense of their arrested colleagues, warning of an “impending collapse” of Russian aerodynamics science:

“The materials of all three criminal cases are closed to the public; however, we know from open sources that the actions for which our colleagues may spend the rest of their lives behind bars amount to what is considered worldwide, including in Russia, to be essential to research integrity and quality: presenting at international seminars and conferences, publishing papers in top-tier journals, and participating in international research projects.”

According to the scientists, they do not see how one can continue working in an environment where “any article or presentation could become grounds for charges of treason.”

Rumen Radev was first elected president of Bulgaria in January 2017. Since then, the country has held nine parliamentary elections — eight of them in the past five years. A range of parties has emerged victorious: the systemically pro-European but corruption-tainted GERB party; the staunchly liberal, pro-Western “We Continue the Change”; and the loosely defined protest party “There Is Such a People,” led by entertainer Slavi Trifonov, which failed to form a ruling coalition. During periods when Bulgaria lacked a parliamentary majority, President Radev appointed “caretaker” governments, effectively consolidating power in what is formally a parliamentary republic. But this did not prevent him from remaining the country’s most popular politician.

Radev had been labeled “pro-Russian” even before taking office. He dismissed the claim, saying: “I am a NATO general and have devoted my entire life to ensuring Bulgaria is a strong and active member of the alliance.” In 2026, Radev’s Progressive Bulgaria party claimed much of the former electorate of the Bulgarian Socialist Party (BSP), the successor to the country’s communist party.

A “last hope” candidate

Voters expect a miracle from the former general and president — much as they once did from Bulgaria’s last monarch, Simeon II, who was deposed by communists in 1946 before making a sensational political comeback by winning parliamentary elections in 2001. A quarter-century later, Progressive Bulgaria is set to secure about 130 seats in parliament, compared with 120 for Simeon’s movement in 2001.

Simeon’s “miracle” faded when the monarch-turned-democrat lost public trust. Radev, by contrast, is seen as a “last hope” candidate. Many Bulgarians believe previous governments either failed to tackle organized crime or were themselves part of it. For nearly a decade, Radev remained above the fray, maintaining strong approval ratings. Now, in his new role as prime minister, he will have to confront the issue directly.

Radev is seen as a “last hope” candidate that will have to confront the issue of organized crime

One of Progressive Bulgaria’s key campaign promises involves judicial reform, but implementing such measures requires a constitutional majority — three-quarters of parliament, meaning 180 out of the body’s 240 seats. Radev’s party secured an impressive 130, but even that figure is still well short of the needed mark.A “softer” option exists — two-thirds, or 160 votes — but it involves a more complex and lengthy process and cannot be used for the most fundamental issues. Again though, even that threshold is out of reach for the three-party coalition led by Radev.

Besides Progressive Bulgaria, four other parties entered parliament. Two of them — GERB and the Movement for Rights and Freedoms — are widely seen as representing entrenched oligarchic interests and have been opposed to judicial reform. Radev said before the election that cooperation with them would be impossible.

Another party, the hardline Euroskeptic and pro-Russian Revival, is too toxic for Radev, who has reaffirmed Bulgaria’s European course. In any case, Revival holds only 12 seats — not enough to make a difference. That leaves the liberals: a complex alliance between “We Continue the Change” and the smaller, diverse Democratic Bulgaria coalition. Although Radev criticized both during the campaign, he has not ruled out cooperation with either now that the election is over.

Business over ideology

However cooperation between Progressive Bulgaria and the liberal bloc is structured — whether through a formal coalition or issue-based voting — the liberals are unlikely to allow the new prime minister to abandon support for Ukraine or move significantly closer to Russia.

At the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Bulgaria was governed by Kiril Petkov’s “We Continue the Change,” and support from Sofia proved crucial to Kyiv in the early months of the war, helping to cover a significant diesel fuel shortage after Russian strikes on Ukrainian refineries and depots. It also supplied large numbers of 152 mm artillery shells and Soviet-standard small arms ammunition, as Bulgaria is the largest producer of such munitions outside Russia.

These arms shipments had been taking place quietly since 2014, becoming public mainly through incidents such as the poisoning of Bulgarian arms dealer Emilian Gebrev with Novichok or explosions at weapons depots in the Czech village of Vrbětice, where Bulgarian munitions were reportedly stored.

In 2022, there were also discussions about transferring Bulgaria’s MiG-29 fighter jets to Ukraine. The move is widely believed to have been blocked by then-President Radev. While Poland and Slovakia later sent their jets, Bulgaria did not.

In practice, decisions on Bulgarian arms transfers are made by the government, which largely ignored Radev’s warnings about being drawn into the war. Still, the MiGs were not sent, in part because, as a former air force commander, Radev was seen as an authoritative voice on the issue. He argued that Bulgaria had no “spare” aircraft.

As prime minister, Radev is likely to adopt a position similar to that of Slovakia’s Robert Fico: no free military aid to Ukraine, but existing commercial contracts will be fulfilled, and new ones may be signed.

For Kyiv, such a stance is acceptable. Larger European powers provide financial support, defense manufacturers fulfill paid orders, and Bulgaria’s surplus Soviet-era stockpiles have largely been depleted.

Radev is also unlikely to pursue any anti-Ukrainian actions along the lines of Hungary’s Orban-era use of vetoes on EU decisions.  First, Bulgaria is highly dependent on EU funding — more so than Hungary. Second, potential coalition partners from the liberal bloc would exert pressure.

Russia, meanwhile, is unlikely to mobilize significant domestic pressure against Radev, as his political movement has already absorbed much of the Euroskeptic electorate. Nor is he likely to align himself with Europe’s pro-Kremlin, Trump-friendly forces. Direct appeals to the United States would also be difficult, given that Trump has shown little affinity for center-left politicians like Radev.

More reliable with Europe

Radev is pragmatic. His statements about the need to build relations with Russia based on mutual respect and equality, and about the desirability of restoring full Russian oil and gas supplies to Europe, are worth noting. Without taking Viktor Orban’s radical position, Bulgaria’s incoming PM would like to receive material benefits in exchange for a willingness to gently promote Moscow’s interests in the European Union.

Bulgaria’s incoming PM would like to receive material benefits in exchange for a willingness to gently promote Moscow’s interests in the EU

But here, too, his room for maneuver is sharply limited. Bulgaria’s economic contacts with Russia have seriously deteriorated. Sofia abandoned construction of the South Stream gas pipeline in 2014 under pressure from the European Commission. Gazprom Neft is present mainly through a small Gazprom-branded network of gas stations registered through a European jurisdiction. Lukoil’s petrochemical plant in Burgas, the largest refinery in the Balkans, has fallen under U.S. sanctions — it is being prepared for sale and cannot be “saved” from that fate by the national government. Meanwhile, resuming construction of the Belene nuclear power plant with Rosatom’s involvement is unlikely, both for economic reasons and because of the positions of the United States and the EU.

Bulgaria has also received substantial compensation from the EU over the past 12 years in order to help counteract the negative economic effects of joining sanctions against Russia, particularly in the energy and agricultural sectors. The country has learned that it is easier and safer to seek additional European funds than to try to revive risky business with Russia.

That means the main audience for the future prime minister’s rhetoric about rapprochement with Russia may not be the Kremlin at all. Ideologically, such rhetoric is likely aimed at domestic voters who shifted their support from Euroskeptic parties over to Radev. Pragmatically, the incoming prime minister’s words are being indirectly aimed at Brussels, which may be expected to offer new incentives to keep Bulgaria in its orbit.

On April 21 — likely the day after he arrived in Kharp — Miftakhov was taken at about 1 p.m. to the administration building, where the operational department is located. Polar Owl prisoners call the place the “Lubyanka,” a reference to the Moscow headquarters of the Soviet Union’s KGB and its successor agency, Russia’s FSB. Miftakhov said he was met there by two convicts: one with the surname Bulanov and another named Mikhail. They brought him to a toilet and ordered him to clean it, but he refused.

Miftakhov was then taken into an office where prison employee Mikhail Sobolev was present. Miftakhov said the conversation lasted about one and a half hours. At first, Sobolev seemed to him like a “calm, reasonable person,” but he kept saying that Miftakhov had to do everything the administration told him to do, including cleaning the toilet in the operational department.

“Then, when I refused again, he either pressed some button or made a call, after which those two convicts ran into the office. They knocked me to the floor. Bulanov sat on my torso. ... Mikhail sat on my legs and began wrapping them with tape. ... Mikhail hit me several times in the groin with his fist to make me stop resisting,” Miftakhov said.

According to Miftakhov, the attackers also tied his hands with tape. After that, they turned him onto his stomach, and Sobolev sat on top of him. At that point, Bulanov began hitting his heels with a wooden hammer.

“I started screaming in pain. ... It hurt, and at the same time I could hardly breathe. I began choking and losing consciousness. When my screams grew quieter, Bulanov stopped hitting my heels. They waited until I came to, and then they started hitting my heels again and pressing down on my back, and it was hard for me to breathe.”

The Insider has independently confirmed that 40-year-old Mikhail Sobolev from Tyumen works at IK-18 “Polar Owl.” Data from leaked online databases suggests that his monthly income in 2022 amounted to roughly 100,000 rubles a month (just over $1,300 at current rates). Sobolev’s status on the social network VK reads “life is beautiful!!!”, and his subscriptions include his employer, the official account of FSIN in the Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous District, and the communities called “Corporation of Evil,” and “Moonshiners.”

“They threatened to take turns penetrating me”

When Miftakhov again began losing consciousness, Sobolev and the convicts stopped the beating but immediately began threatening to rape him.

“They pulled down my pants and underwear. ... Mikhail began spreading cream on my anus with his fingers. At some point he stopped, but they continued threatening to take turns penetrating me.”

At that moment, a staff member whom others called “Alexei Viktorovich” entered the office. Miftakhov said the man saw him lying there with his pants down.

“Alexei Viktorovich” and the sewer hatch

“Alexei Viktorovich” spoke briefly with Sobolev. A few minutes later, Miftakhov was carried from the office into a hallway, where he said he was threatened with being dipped into a sewage hatch.

“They [Bulanov and Mikhail] brought my face close to the waste, and when my face was two centimeters away, they pulled me back and carried me back into the office.”

Miftakhov said the abuse then continued, and he was slapped, stepped on, and again threatened with rape. He said Bulanov, Mikhail, and Sobolev all took part in the beating in the office.

Miftakhov said Sobolev then struck him about 100 times on the head with his palm, before pinching his nose and covering his mouth until he began to suffocate.

Loud music drowns out screams during electric shocks

After that, Miftakhov, still bound with tape, was carried to the second floor of the operational department, where operatives Pavel Kiselev and Yevgeny (last name unknown) joined the torturers. Miftakhov was placed on his stomach, and wires were attached to his toes.

“Then Bulanov turned on the current. I screamed. He said: ‘Ah, the bitch squealed.’ After that, they turned on the current for even longer. The pain was so terrible that I began screaming at the top of my lungs.”

To drown out his screams, Bulanov and Mikhail turned on pop music at full volume. The electric shock torture then continued.

“As soon as I started screaming, Mikhail pressed a towel to my mouth. It was very painful and frightening. When I began losing consciousness, they turned off the current. Half a minute later, they turned it on again, and this continued for some time,” Miftakhov said.

He said he was then turned over and placed on the floor, leaning against a couch. The wires were still attached to his feet. The operatives began trying to convince him that he was required to follow all administration orders, but Miftakhov refused. The current was then switched on again, and the torture was repeated after each refusal.

After that, Yevgeny ordered the wires removed from Miftakhov and the tape binding him cut off. He was allowed to put on his underwear and pants. Then, he said, two more prison guards entered the office. They also demanded that he obey any orders from the administration. Miftakhov continued to refuse.

By the end of the workday, the political prisoner was taken back to the quarantine room. Yevgeny, according to Miftakhov, promised to speak with him again the next day. After returning to quarantine, Miftakhov felt the effects of the torture: his heels, groin, and calves hurt badly.

A new case, pressure, and a transfer to Kharp

Azat Miftakhov, a graduate student at Moscow State University, was first arrested in 2019. In January 2021, he was sentenced to six years in a general-security penal colony on hooliganism charges. Investigators said that in January 2018, Miftakhov and a group of anarchists broke a window at an office of the ruling United Russia party in Moscow and threw a smoke bomb inside. He denied any wrongdoing.

In September 2023, Miftakhov was released, but was detained again as he left the colony — this time in a case involving the alleged “justification of terrorism.” The case was based on an alleged conversation between Miftakhov and another prisoner, who later served as the prosecution’s main witness and was subsequently killed in the war in Ukraine.

In the second case, Miftakhov was sentenced to four years in prison. He was to spend the first two and a half years in prison and the rest in a maximum-security penal colony. After completing the prison portion of his sentence, Miftakhov was transferred from a prison in Yelets to Penal Colony No. 18 (IK-18), known as Polar Owl, in the remote settlement of Kharp, nearly 40 miles north of the Arctic Circle.

While in custody, Miftakhov has regularly faced pressure and threats. In 2023, he said that after his 2019 arrest, the FSB used his intimate photographs to discredit him in the eyes of other prisoners and demote him to the lowest prison caste, known as the “offended.” His wife, Elena Gorban, said this worsened his position in the colony and led to additional difficulties and conflicts. In November 2024, Miftakhov’s support group said his safety in a prison in Dimitrovgrad was under threat because of a cellmate with a severe mental condition. Miftakhov spent almost all of 2025 in solitary confinement.

IK-18 “Polar Owl” is considered one of Russia’s most remote and harshest colonies. It is primarily intended for convicts serving life sentences, though it also has a maximum-security section, where Miftakhov was sent. Former political prisoner and human rights expert Ivan Astashin has reported that Polar Owl, along with Black Dolphin and White Swan, has a reputation as a torture prison. Prisoner Vladimir Zakharkin, who had complained to the European Court of Human Rights about the incarceration conditions, was killed in the colony: other prisoners beat him to death on orders from the administration. Opposition politician Alexei Navalny was murdered in the nearby Kharp Penal Colony No. 3 (IK-3), known as “Polar Wolf.”

As Alexandra Zapolskaya, a member of Solidarité FreeAzat — an association created  in France in 2023 by Russian and French trade union and political activists — told The Insider, French lawmakers and activists are concerned about Miftakhov’s transfer:

“The news of Azat’s transfer to Kharp came as a shock for us. On April 25, we held an emergency meeting in Paris, bringing together everyone who cares to join our fight for his freedom. Many people attended, including members of the French parliament. We are now structuring the solidarity campaign. We understand that only international publicity and frequent lawyer visits can protect Azat. The latter requires money. We urge everyone to contribute to the fight for him.

Azat’s case alone shows the full darkness of Russian repression. But darkness is not eternal, and solidarity is stronger than repression.”

Funds to support Miftakhov’s lawyers and legal defense team can be transferred:

• through the Solidarité FreeAzat form for euro transfers;
• via PayPal at firesoffreedom@protonmail.com with the note “for Azat”;

to the Russian Sberbank card 5469 3800 5929 3380, registered to Elena Anatolyevna Gorban (Горбань Елена Анатольевна). Those sending money to the Russian card are asked to list the purpose of the transfer as “gift” («дарение»).

Vienna suspects Moscow is using numerous satellite dishes installed on diplomatic buildings for surveillance. Reuters reported that the antennas have long attracted the attention of Austria’s domestic intelligence service, which has warned that the equipment may be used to intercept communications.

The Financial Times previously reported that Russian diplomatic sites in Vienna had become Russia’s largest signals intelligence platform in the West. As the key site, the outlet names the so-called “Russencity,” a nine-hectare complex on the eastern bank of the Danube with the multistory building of Russia’s Permanent Mission to the United Nations at its center.

The Insider also previously found that Russia’s Embassy in Vienna is effectively used as an intelligence hub. The Reisnerstrasse complex employs dozens of staff with diplomatic passports linked to the SVR, GRU, and FSB, and the site is used, among other things, to coordinate operations in other European countries. In October 2025, The Insider revealed the identities of so-called “journalists under cover” after they arrived in Austria following the expulsion of Russian consular staff from Munich.

Viennese engineer enthusiasts from the group NomenNescio spent two years photographing the complex’s roofs in high resolution and found that most of the dishes were aimed at four geostationary satellites: Eutelsat 3B, Eutelsat 10B, SES-5, and Rascom QAF1. The satellites provide communications between Africa and Europe. Special attachments installed in front of the receivers allow signals to be “probed” across a much wider range than standard equipment.

This past March, Chayko was added to the European Union’s sanctions list among nine people held responsible for the Bucha massacre — the mass killing of civilians and prisoners of war in the city of Bucha just outside Kyiv in March 2022. The Council of the EU’s press release said Chayko was “the most senior Russian military officer on the ground in Ukraine at the outset of the full-scale invasion” who was the “lead commander in Ukraine when Russian troops entered Bucha.”

Chayko commanded the Vostok (lit. “East”) group of forces and, in that role, oversaw the Russian offensive on Kyiv from Belarus. At the time, he was commander of Russia’s Eastern Military District.

After the start of the war in Donbas in 2014, Chayko oversaw the covert transfer of troops across the Russian-Ukrainian border. In 2016, Vladimir Putin appointed him commander of all airborne troops. In 2017, he was among the first Russian officials to be sanctioned by Ukraine.

Chayko also took part in Russia’s military operations in Syria in 2020-2022. Under his command, Russian and Syrian forces captured the city of Kobani, a Russian air base was established in Qamishli, and the Damascus-Aleppo highway was reopened in early 2020. After a brief stint as commander of Russia’s Eastern Military District in November 2021 - July 2022, Chayko returned to Syria. After the overthrow of Bashar Assad in December 2024, he continued to be listed as commander of the Russian grouping in Syria.

Russian pro-war circles reacted negatively to Chayko’s appointment. Andrei Filatov, a “war correspondent” for the propaganda channel RT, shared a link to the news on his Telegram channel with the comment: “Want a total clusterf**k? Here it comes.” Filatov’s comment was reposted by military expert Maxim Klimov and war blogger Rostislav Mokrenko.

Most defendants — 156 — were sentenced to 10 to 15 years in prison. Thirty-one received 15 to 20 years, 29 received 5 to 10 years, and two were sentenced to life.  Nearly 90% of those convicted are men. A quarter of the cases involve people ages 18 to 24, and 12 defendants are teenagers ages 14 to 17. Among those sentenced are five civil servants and 12 military personnel.

The Insider calculated that convictions rose by more than 460% over two years. According to the Supreme Court’s Judicial Department, 145 people were convicted of treason in 2024, compared with 39 in 2023. Ivan Pavlov, a lawyer and founder of the human rights project Pervy Otdel (lit. “Department One”), told The Insider that the official figures are consistently understated:

“It seems to me that at some point someone in the presidential administration realized that these figures — such large numbers of convictions for serious crimes against the state — were compromising the state itself. And so they decided to slightly understate them. ‘Slightly’ meaning by half. I have no other explanation.”

According to Pervy Otdel, 2025 has become a record year for convictions on “spying” charges, including treason, espionage, confidential cooperation with foreigners, and assisting an adversary. As many as 468 people were convicted, including not only political activists, but also students, IT workers, teachers, entrepreneurs, and residents of occupied Ukrainian territories. The youngest person charged with treason was 17 at the time of arrest, the oldest was 80, and at least four people were sentenced to life in prison in 2025.

Russia’s Supreme Court said 14 people were sentenced on espionage charges last year, up 55% over two years but down 39% from 2024. Another 29 were convicted in cases involving cooperation with foreigners, up 38% from 2024.

The Judicial Department earlier removed from public access court statistics on cases heard in courts of general jurisdiction, commercial courts, and by justices of the peace. According to a notice on the agency’s website, this information is “temporarily unavailable.”

Peru’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs said another citizen is scheduled to return on May 3, with six more expected on May 4. They departed Moscow with help from embassy staff. The return of two others has not yet been finalized, but authorities expect to arrange it in the coming days.

Peru’s Prosecutor’s Office earlier launched a preliminary investigation into suspected human trafficking. According to the investigation, Peruvian citizens may have been lured to Russia with promises of jobs in security and other sectors, and after arrival were allegedly coerced into taking part in combat operations against Ukraine. The Prosecutor’s Office requested information from Peru’s Foreign Ministry and immigration authorities, and has also begun interviewing witnesses as part of the probe.

Peruvian media reported that relatives of missing people had appealed to authorities for their return. RPP cited the account of Lila Abarca Pimentel, wife of 27-year-old Alberto Ayala Eguren, who said her husband was promised a security job in Russia and a $25,000 bonus but was later held at military bases, beaten, and threatened with prison after signing a contract in Russian.

La República reported, citing family lawyer Marcelo Tataje Pecol, that relatives have informed authorities about 135 missing Peruvians and another 250 potential cases. According to Pecol, people were recruited via social media with promises of jobs as security guards, cooks, drivers, or engineers, with salaries of up to $4,000 per month and bonuses of up to $20,000. Once they arrived in Russia, their passports were allegedly confiscated, and they were sent to fight in Ukraine.

The devices receive signals from multiple satellites and allow users to watch Ukrainian television channels. The report’s authors said one-third of Crimea’s residents use such receivers, while only 17% of residents have licensed satellite receivers and 49% do not have access to satellite television.

“The more access respondents have to alternative content, the more often their opinions differ from the ‘average,’ grow more negative, and become less stable,” the report warns.

Following the meeting, Russia’s Ministry of Digital Development was instructed to assess the scale of use of these devices and address their prevalence. The ministry noted that bans on the sale and use of similar equipment had previously been introduced in Russian-occupied parts of the Donetsk, Luhansk, Zaporizhzhia, and Kherson regions of Ukraine. No such restrictions are currently in place in Crimea.

The bans were accompanied by equipment replacement programs. Under the “Russian World” project, residents receive free satellite dishes carrying Russian TV channels in exchange for giving up “Gorynych” devices. Occupation-controlled media said tens of thousands of such antennas have been installed in the Luhansk Region alone, while more than 25,000 equipment sets were replaced in the Donetsk region in 2024.

Media market sources cited by Kommersant link the prevalence of “Gorynych” devices in Crimea to the absence of similar replacement programs, a shortage of legitimate satellite services, and user habits formed before 2014. Some residents were also unwilling to pay for subscriptions.

At the end of April, Russia banned the import of foreign satellite communications equipment, including Starlink terminals, for six months, citing national security concerns.

When Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, one consequence was a mass exodus of Russians who opposed the war or feared mobilization. Later, among those fleeing the country were veterans who had managed to desert the military. Some of them did not have passports, which sharply limited the list of countries they could enter.

Legalizing their status in other countries was never easy for anti-war Russians, and over the past year the situation has deteriorated significantly. Media outlets and social media increasingly carry reports of Russians being denied asylum, deported and even detained for possible extradition. In most cases, however, this is not specifically about persecution of Russian citizens — attitudes toward migrants in general have changed.

In the United States, about 1,000 asylum seekers with Russian citizenship have faced the threat of deportation, and the first flights to Russia — routed through third countries — took place last summer. In Croatia, applicants from the Russian North Caucasus are being denied protection in large numbers, while in Germany courts have issued negative rulings even in military desertion cases that rights advocates describe as “ironclad.” Kazakhstan, too, has already expelled people who clearly faced criminal liability in Russia. And Moscow is trying to use Interpol databases and lists of “terrorists and extremists” to pursue disfavored citizens, creating problems even for those who hold another country’s passport.

In the United States, about 1,000 asylum seekers with Russian citizenship have faced the threat of deportation

The Russian authorities have also helped fuel panicked rumors about the threat of mass deportations of anti-war émigrés. However, rights advocates stress, the situation is not actually as bad as the Russian government says it is. The alarming picture that had emerged by 2026 is made up of many unrelated factors, not a single coordinated campaign. At the same time, in some countries the authorities’ attitude toward Russians who fled war and repression has indeed changed. According to rights advocates, the situation has worsened most noticeably in Kazakhstan and the United States, but Russian émigrés in Germany, Croatia, the Netherlands, Sweden, Bulgaria, and some other countries are also encountering new problems.

Germany

Russians are increasingly facing difficulties in Europe. This shift is especially visible in Germany, which, while still remaining a “safe haven” for many, has taken a much tougher stance on migration since the change of government in May 2025. The policies pursued under Chancellor Friedrich Merz and his team in an attempt to appeal to right-wing populist sentiment in the country are even frequently compared with what took place in the United States under Donald Trump. And although the scale of the process in Germany still does not match that across the Atlantic, it is hard to miss the indiscriminate approach of the German government.

For example, Germany has now effectively halted its humanitarian visa program for Russians. The authorities cite the need to ease pressure on the budget and the social system. Yet fewer than 3,000 Russians arrived in the country through the humanitarian visa program over four years of war, far fewer than the number of migrants in other categories.

In Germany, people who had previously received approval for humanitarian visas still have not been able to have them placed in their passports.

“We fought for a long time to secure humanitarian visas for the Moskalyovs in an exceptional case. I know that Germany’s Foreign Ministry made every effort to get the visas issued, but the Interior Ministry blocked the decision, and the interior minister did not sign the approval, so we applied for French humanitarian visas for them and brought them to France. The authorities say humanitarian admission will remain only for absolutely exceptional cases. But the Moskalyovs’ case is exceptional, and they still were not given visas. A group of opposition figures — Ilya Yashin, Andrei Pivovarov, and representatives of Free Russia — specifically went to the CDU/CSU party congress to discuss the possibility of resuming the humanitarian program, but they also got a negative response,” the inTransit staff member said.

In January 2026, the story of Russian army deserter Georgy Avaliani spread widely in the media. The Moscow construction engineer had ended up in the war in Ukraine against his will, was subjected to torture, and deserted three times. He managed to get to Europe, eventually reached Germany, and applied for asylum there. The Federal Office for Migration and Refugees, known as BAMF, examined the case on its merits but rejected Avaliani and his family, concluding that he faced no danger in Russia. To justify its decision, BAMF cited a statement by former Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu that mobilization in Russia had ended in October 2022.

In addition, an official at the agency cast doubt on the existence of “torture basements” in the Russian military. Rights advocates say Avaliani’s case is not unique and that BAMF is issuing template denials without examining the details of each case, changing only the applicants’ personal data in its decisions. European bureaucratic bodies have repeatedly cited statements by Russian authorities that mobilization has ended, Aleksandr Solovyov, coordinator of the Anti-War Committee project Consuls, told The Insider: “The decisions regularly say that applicants face nothing in Russia, so they should go back.”

In March, Russian-language media widely reported a story by the independent exiled outlet Echo saying Germany had begun deporting anti-war Russians through third countries, in some cases explaining its decisions by the “absence” of mobilization in Russia.

Previously, local authorities had not used such a practice, as there are no direct flights between the two countries. However, Russians are now sometimes being expelled under escort through Belgrade or Yerevan. Among those deported are LGBTQ+ activists, anti-war Russians, and people who donated money to organizations that Russia considers “banned” or “terrorist.”

The situation is partly the result of the peculiarities of German bureaucracy. Until the end of 2023, Berlin made an exception by allowing people to apply for freelancer visas. That meant a person with a credible fear of returning to Russia could come to Germany even on a standard tourist Schengen visa issued by any country and then legally prolong their stay without much trouble, inTransit said. Many Russians took advantage of that option. But local authorities later abandoned the practice.

As a result, instead of residence permits, Berlin’s migration office began issuing applicants “Duldung,” a status granting a temporary suspension of deportation. If a person found permanent work, they could legalize their stay. In addition, Duldung documents were routinely extended. But in August 2025 their issuance also stopped, and people began receiving deportation orders. Usually, a person was given time — about four months — to leave Germany voluntarily. However, deportation police began showing up just a couple of weeks later and escorting them to Russia through third countries.

Even so, rights advocates stress that it is still not accurate to speak of mass deportations. Maria Krasova, a lawyer for the inTransit project, told The Insider that the process is better described as “random”:

“There are no signs of a systematic pattern — the deportations are not linked, for example, to antisocial behavior, offenses, gender, or length of stay. In Germany the situation is complicated by several factors: public fatigue and the high social burden on society, as reflected in the election results; the sluggishness of the law enforcement apparatus; an opaque decision-making process on asylum; and the inaccessibility and often ineffectiveness of legal protection systems for asylum seekers. In Berlin, for example, the situation is made worse by an obvious lack of cooperation and any sensible division of responsibilities between BAMF and LEA, the Berlin foreigners’ authority.”

That said, the relatively small number of the deportations is unlikely to make life easier for those unlucky enough to become candidates for a growing list of “individual” cases. In mid-March, police detained 26-year-old Ilya Shkolny and placed him in pretrial detention in Hof, Bavaria.

In Russia, the young man had taken part in protests, volunteered in Alexei Navalny’s political campaigns, donated money to Navalny’s Anti-Corruption Foundation (ACF), and served on the committee of the Moscow branch of the Libertarian Party of Russia. He arrived in Germany in June 2022 on a tourist visa.

Ilya, who speaks German at a C1 level, enrolled in a master’s program at the University of Bayreuth, married German citizen Ansuela, with whom he had been in a relationship since 2019, and applied for asylum. He was denied on the grounds that there was no mobilization in Russia. He then applied for a residence permit based on marriage and was denied again.

“The migration office said that because Ilya had not been granted asylum, his risks were ‘irrelevant’ and he should return to Russia and apply for a marriage visa from there. Returning to Russia was impossible for Ilya — he faced a clear danger there,” inTransit said.

In March 2025, German authorities prepared to deport the Russian, accusing him of crossing the border on the “wrong visa.” At the same time, the university was ready to offer Ilya a job. In addition to rights advocates, local politicians also joined efforts to prevent Shkolny’s deportation to Russia. Krasova said this case clearly appears to be an administrative error.

The inTransit coordinator, in turn, stressed that defending people already being held in deportation detention is extremely difficult, and that a person cannot cope alone, or even with the help of German lawyers:

“We gathered new circumstances confirming the risks and a new body of evidence based on our experience. A year ago, we defended a person in Denmark whose entry in the Khimera database was marked ‘extremist, ACF.’ We argued that he would face danger in Russia, relying on letters from organizations such as Transparency International, letters from Russian investigative journalists specializing in Khimera and, most importantly, academic publications by the Russian Interior Ministry Academy. Those publications describe in detail how the database is used in operational work to collect information and identify oppositionists, extremists, political activists, and so on. Eighty percent of operational departments are connected to it. This is an extremely important corroboration that no applicant could collect on their own. On that basis, we filed an urgent request with the court to halt the deportation — and another asylum application. The court decided that the risks were indeed high and ordered BAMF to review his case again.”

According to Echo, Germany forcibly deported 126 Russians in 2025, while another 1,748 Russian citizens are listed in statistics as having “left voluntarily.” At the same time, rights advocates stress that this is not about the targeted presecution of Russians — the new approach of the German authorities affects almost all migrants with uncertain status.

Other European countries

The number of deportations is likely to rise in the near future — and not only in Germany. In February, the European Parliament approved a unified list of “safe third countries,” a measure intended to simplify procedures for denying refugee status and carrying out deportations. How that will work in practice, however, remains unclear. As The Insider’s sources note, there are a number of European countries where Russians are not advised to seek asylum. They include Croatia, the Netherlands, Sweden, and Bulgaria.

In the Netherlands and Sweden, asylum seekers often have to wait for decisions in refugee camps under psychologically and physically harsh conditions, while Bulgaria and Croatia have openly shown that they do not want to grant asylum to Russians.

Rights advocates are aware of a case in which a person won in court in Bulgaria, but the migration authorities still refused to legalize his status. Croatia, for its part, has not approved a single asylum request from Russian deserters during the entire war in Ukraine. If an applicant is also from the North Caucasus, he may even face detention and extradition to Russia.

Croatia is not a lone case. On March 20, for example, Estonia deported a Chechen asylum seeker to Russia even though he faced danger there. The young man, whose name has not been disclosed for security reasons, was deprived of adequate legal assistance and was unable to defend his rights, advocates say.

In addition, deserters who signed contracts with the Russian military are treated with particular suspicion in Europe. “The main problem for people applying for refugee status is that often even those who genuinely deserve it put together their documents incorrectly or describe their case improperly. Many come to us only after their first rejection. That makes the process harder. That is why we strongly advise contacting rights advocates before applying,” Solovyov said.

Deserters who signed contracts with the Russian military are treated with particular suspicion in Europe

Margarita Kuchusheva, a consul with the Anti-War Committee, told The Insider that it would be inaccurate to speak of a tightening of European policy specifically toward Russian asylum seekers. There is now a large backlog in the EU of people who arrived in 2022-2023 and, by 2026, have gone through all the bureaucratic stages: a first rejection, a first appeal, a second appeal, and so on. Technically, the time has simply come for final decisions in their cases, which may create the impression that the situation has worsened.

Even so, the statistics are troubling. The outlet Verstka pointed to Eurostat data showing that in 2025 EU states issued 10,415 orders for Russian citizens to leave their territory — the highest figure in the past five years. That was nearly double the level seen in 2021, just before the start of the war. In 2025, the EU deported 38% more Russians than in 2024. The data, however, do not make it possible to determine how many of the deportees had cases similar to Avaliani or Shkolny.

In short, despite a sufficient number of examples in which Russians facing serious danger at home were threatened with deportation, the situation in the EU is, perhaps, still one of the most favorable overall. Deportations of people who would face serious danger in Russia, if they do occur, remain isolated cases for now. In addition, European authorities often give potential deportees sufficient time to leave the country on their own. Still, such allowances do not change the fact that, overall, the situation of Russians who left the country for political reasons after 2022 is becoming objectively more difficult.

United States: Detained, deported, sent back to Russia

In the United States, the decline of the refugee reception system was helped along by the arrival in power of the Republican administration led by Donald Trump. Anti-war Russians also became victims of Washington’s declared crusade against migrants. At the same time, Aleksandr Solovyov, coordinator of the Anti-War Committee’s Consuls project, told The Insider that although there are indeed many deportations from the United States, “not every flight is full of Russians, and those being deported are far from always political activists who face danger in Russia.”

“Unfortunately, there are many people who, it seems, came in search of a better life. They filed documents that either contained falsehoods or did not provide sufficient grounds for asylum. Another matter is that there really are activists among those being deported who should under no circumstances be sent back. But it would also be wrong to say that the United States is deporting hundreds of anti-war Russians,” Solovyov said.

Sergei Vlasov, head of the U.S.-based nonprofit Russian Refugee Foundation and a former Moscow municipal deputy, also told The Insider that among Russians seeking asylum in the United States there are quite a few who “came for a better life.”

According to him, attitudes toward Russians seeking asylum began to worsen even under Joe Biden. After all, it was in June 2024 when American authorities decided to more closely screen Russian citizens crossing the border from Mexico. In practice, almost all asylum seekers with Russian passports began to be sent to immigration jails, or “detentions,” although previously most had been released pending a decision in their case. After Trump returned to power, immigration judges at those facilities began, in Vlasov’s words, “denying everyone and sending everyone home.”

“Judges in detention facilities are usually former prosecutors or ICE employees who are used to working within the system and carrying out orders. They are obviously biased,” the head of the Russian Refugee Foundation said. “Let’s say there are 10 cases, and only a couple have real grounds. But now even those cases may be cut down. A person has no criminal record and has been checked against all international databases. So why not release him so he can fight his case in his own state, where judges are less biased? Instead, they are kept for a year or even longer in immigration jails, where the attitude is completely different.”

In the rights advocate’s view, obtaining asylum in the United States under current conditions requires “a very strong case with real documents and a clear story.” As Vlasov continued, “The old way — arriving with a single administrative offense on your record and sitting around waiting — no longer works. And I absolutely would not recommend trying to enter through the Mexican border right now, because that means a 100% chance of ending up in jail and before a biased court.”

Obtaining asylum in the United States under current conditions requires “a very strong case with real documents and a clear story”

Even so, even Russia’s asylum seekers with “strong cases” have fallen victim to the U.S. administration’s chaotic campaign against migrants. One of the most shocking cases involved Perm activist Leonid Melekhin, who was deported from the United States and then placed in pretrial detention in Russia on charges of “justifying terrorism” based on his ties to Alexei Navalny’s organization. Melekhin crossed the Mexican border in August 2024, essentially right after the Biden administration introduced the practice of placing Russian asylum seekers in immigration detention centers.

Another drama is unfolding right now for spouses Elizaveta and Dmitry. She had openly opposed Russia’s repressive laws targeting LGBTQ+ people, while he is a Ukrainian from the currently occupied territories. According to Elizaveta, they applied for asylum in the United States within the required time limits and submitted all necessary evidence, documents, and letters of support. At one hearing, the judge said she had no further questions about the case. But later, at the prosecution’s request, the hearing was postponed so the couple could provide original internal passports, a military ID, and documents showing past employment. Before the next hearing, the prosecution filed a motion to dismiss the case without consideration, and the court granted it. Rights advocates say Elizaveta and Dmitry now need to file an appeal or face deportation to Russia.

Three stories of people deported from the U.S.

The Insider spoke with three Russians who, like Melekhin, ended up in U.S. immigration jails and were then deported to Russia. All three managed to avoid arrest once back home.

Anti-war activist Andrei Sakharov left Russia for Georgia in 2022, spent eight months in Mexico in 2024, and from there finally managed to enter the United States legally with his wife after getting a slot in the CBP One app. After arriving on American soil, however, they were immediately handcuffed and forced to sign documents saying they had crossed the border illegally.

“My wife was held at the border for 17 days, me for 10, even though they have posters up there saying the maximum period for that kind of detention is three days,” Sakharov said. According to him, some staff in immigration jails enjoy humiliating people: “On the day I was leaving, I asked the officer on duty if I could say goodbye to my wife — she could see me, she was standing there crying. He just smiled and said, ‘No.’ I started arguing, and they told me I was nobody here and should shut up.”

Andrei had evidence of his opposition activity going back to the 2010s, but his lawyers did not submit the required documents in time. The judge agreed to wait, but postponed the hearing on his case for three months. During that time, U.S. immigration policy became much harsher. Andrei was denied protection.

Fearing forced deportation, he asked to be deported himself, hoping to avoid ending up in Russia. And in fact, during a layover, a Moroccan officer helped the couple buy tickets to Istanbul. In the end, they found themselves back in Mexico, where their dog had been waiting for them the whole time. Andrei now plans to legalize his status there, turning down offers to apply for humanitarian visas in Europe.

Two other people The Insider spoke with, Pavel and Yelena, flew to Mexico in September 2024 and waited about five months for a CBP One slot to cross the border legally. But after Trump returned to power in January 2025, everything changed abruptly: the app was shut down, already approved appointments were canceled, and the National Guard was deployed to the border.

“We were in shock, but in early February we still decided to go the old way — by car,” Pavel said. “There were nine of us in the vehicle. On Feb. 8, we crossed the border on the first try. Police ran up, put handcuffs on us and took us in for processing.”

In the United States, they were sent to different detention facilities — Pavel to one in California, Yelena to one in Louisiana. At first, they were told that everyone arriving after Jan. 20, 2025, would be deported. Later, Pavel underwent an interview under the Convention Against Torture screening process, which he passed successfully: he had previously been detained at protests, had donated to FBK, and had even been reported to police by his own father because of his anti-war stance. Yelena, however, was denied, and despite the judge’s promise to give the couple a “second chance,” she was soon being prepared for deportation. Pavel asked that they be sent out together.

The couple ended up back in Russia, but managed to avoid detention and leave again — this time for Europe. Pavel and Yelena are now in France, studying the language and hoping to fully legalize their status. “Here they don’t put you in any jail, they give you social housing, a little money, and food packages,” Pavel said of their new country.

Another of The Insider’s interviewees, Yevgeny, had taken part in opposition protests since 2017, had been detained once, and joined protests in 2022 during the first days of the war in Ukraine. In May 2023, Yevgeny and his wife flew to Mexico to apply for political asylum in the United States. At the border crossing they were separated: his wife was released, while Yevgeny was sent to an immigration detention center in California.

During his confinement, he was moved through seven detention facilities, two of which, he said, were real prisons. People from former Soviet countries, unlike citizens of other states, went months without receiving any information about their status, Yevgeny recalled. It later emerged that his case would be heard by a judge known for having a minimal rate of approval in cases involving asylum claims. On top of that, Yevgeny himself made a mistake by deciding to file the paperwork on his own. The documents were delivered to the court one day late, meaning he lost the chance to wait for a decision in freedom.

At Yevgeny’s final hearing, the judge said he saw no threats to the asylum seeker if he were to return to Russia. Yevgeny tried to challenge the ruling, but soon faced a choice: remain in jail for another year or two while waiting for a decision in his wife’s case, or agree to removal and return later if her case succeeded. Yevgeny chose deportation, and his flight was set for May 1, 2025. During a layover in Morocco, the Russian caused a commotion, flatly refusing to fly to Moscow and demanding that his passport be returned so he could leave for another country. Despite threats from airport staff and even police involvement, he managed to fly to Istanbul and then to Astana, where he stayed with relatives.

At the final hearing, the judge said he saw no threats to the asylum seeker if he were to return to Russia

“I’m in Kazakhstan now, and my wife is in the United States,” Yevgeny said. “I have no doubt everything will be fine. We have a good lawyer, a good judge. But it’s frightening to stay in Kazakhstan for long. The situation here is changing for the worse, and I’ll probably have to move somewhere else.”

In late March, it became known that another deportation flight carrying dozens of Russians had left the United States for Moscow via Cairo.

The persecution of Russians in Kazakhstan

The second country where rights advocates say conditions have worsened for anti-war Russians is Kazakhstan. At the start of the war in Ukraine, President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev publicly criticized the Kremlin’s actions. In September 2022, amid the flight of hundreds of thousands of Russians escaping mobilization, he instructed the government to “show concern for them and ensure their safety,” as “most of them are forced to leave because of the hopeless situation they face.” At that time, Tokayev called the situation a “political and humanitarian crisis.”

Thanks to Tokayev’s rhetoric, Kazakhstan gained a reputation as a relatively safe country for a quick move. But it soon became clear that the republic was unlikely to remain a “quiet haven” for anti-war Russians. By the end of 2022, the first reports had already appeared of deserters being deported. One of them was Federal Protective Service officer Mikhail Zhilin, who fled Russia during mobilization and was sent back home. He was later sentenced by the Barnaul garrison military court to 6.5 years in a maximum-security penal colony.

At the start of the war in Ukraine, President Tokayev publicly criticized the Kremlin’s actions, so Kazakhstan gained a reputation as a relatively safe country for a quick move

In 2023, Kazakhstan continued detaining and deporting military personnel who did not want to take part in what Russia calls its “special military operation.” Moreover, Russian security officers began operating inside the country: in Astana, they detained former contract serviceman Kamil Kasimov.

Some anti-war Russians tried to obtain asylum in Kazakhstan, but rights advocates say doing so is virtually impossible. Since the republic declared independence, there has been almost only one known case of refugee status being approved — and that was back in the 1990s. Instead, authorities drag out the process of denying asylum, giving the person time, with the help of rights advocates, to leave for a third country.

In recent months, however, that arrangement has begun to break down badly, and Kazakh security services have shown increased interest in Russian migrants. In January 2026, Crimea native Aleksandr Kachkurkin, who worked as an IT developer, was sent from Kazakhstan to Russia.

The formal grounds for his deportation were two administrative citations — for jaywalking and for smoking hookah indoors. An extradition process that usually drags on for weeks or even months took only a few hours in his case. In Russia, Kachkurkin was immediately detained and taken to Moscow’s Meshchansky District Court, which ordered him jailed on charges of “high treason.”

At the end of January 2026, at Russia’s request, Kazakhstan’s Prosecutor General’s Office approved the expulsion of Chechen opposition activist Mansur Movlayev, who had been tortured in his homeland. The authorities issued that decision in violation of their own law — Movlayev had a hearing scheduled for Feb. 11 to appeal the denial of refugee status.

Thanks to the efforts of rights advocates, the activist has not yet been sent to Russia, but he has been denied protection. His lawyers plan to appeal. At the same time, Movlayev is being held in pretrial detention, which means he cannot leave for a third country. A serious threat hangs over him: in Chechnya he would almost certainly face torture and possibly extrajudicial execution.

In yet another case, in February Kazakhstan granted Russia’s request to extradite Yulia Yemelyanova, a former employee of Alexei Navalny’s headquarters, who was detained Aug. 31, 2025 at Almaty airport while changing planes for a flight to Vietnam. To avoid extradition, she tried to obtain asylum in Kazakhstan. The country’s Prosecutor General’s Office had guaranteed that the question of handing her over would not be considered until all procedures related to her asylum application were completed. Rights advocates managed to slow her extradition, but on Feb. 27 a court denied her asylum.

Commenting on Yemelyanova’s case, the Anti-War Committee’s Margarita Kuchusheva said that Kazakhstan had not actually approved the extradition request under the article Russia had cited in requesting her surrender. “Legally, it is absolute nonsense. That alone is a monstrous procedural error,” she said. Kuchusheva also told The Insider that the court announced the extradition ruling at a closed session without the lawyers present: “The court refused to provide us with either a written or oral decision. All of this shows that such cases are handled very poorly. Political decisions are being made, and the process itself goes far beyond any bounds of jurisprudence.”

Rights advocates stress that the risks for opposition-minded Russians in Kazakhstan have grown so significant that it should not be considered even as a transit country. “Many people think transit is safe. No — now you shouldn’t go anywhere near Kazakhstan at all,” Kuchusheva said. For those already in the republic, rights advocates advise relocating elsewhere, if possible.

In March, Kazakhstan’s National Security Committee opened an investigation into forged temporary residence permits in the country. Reports appeared in the media citing anonymous rights advocates claiming this portended the “mass deportations” of anti-war Russians; however, lawyers interviewed by The Insider explained that buyers of fake documents are treated in as witnesses in such cases and do not actually bear criminal liability, even if other factors may in fact lead to their expulsion, particularly if they have lived in the country illegally for more than a year. In any case, rights advocates advise anyone who used such schemes to leave Kazakhstan, especially if they face persecution in Russia.

Difficulties of travel

It is all but impossible to draw up a single map of safe and unsafe countries for Russian citizens given the nuances in each individual case. Still, the rights advocates The Insider spoke with identified several states where even transit carries serious risks: Azerbaijan, Belarus, Venezuela, Vietnam, Egypt, India, Indonesia, Kazakhstan, Cambodia, China, Cuba, Kyrgyzstan, the United Arab Emirates, the United States, Tajikistan, Thailand, Turkey, and Uzbekistan.

Overall, no country in the former Soviet space can be considered safe for Russian opposition figures, but Armenia and Georgia are still often the best option for those who cannot get to Europe. Armenian Parliament Speaker Alen Simonyan has said his country will not hand over Russians persecuted for political reasons. At the same time, the republic remains closely tied to Russia in legal terms, meaning there is always a risk that a person listed in the unified wanted database could be detained. There have also been known cases of deserters being abducted by Russian security forces, and it is especially dangerous for Russians on the run to appear near the Russian military base in Gyumri.

Overall, no country in the former Soviet space can be considered safe for Russian opposition figures, but Armenia and Georgia are still often the best option

At the same time, since the start of the war in Ukraine, Armenia has not extradited a single Russian citizen for political reasons. The greater risk is becoming stuck in the republic for an extended period while proceedings drag on. In that event, a person is left in limbo and forced to rely on the goodwill of Armenian officials. One example is that of activist Ilfat Gareyev, from Tatarstan, who has been stranded in Armenia because of a Russian extradition request.

Even so, in the words of Kuchusheva: “So far Armenia is holding up well. There have been no systemic violations on their part.”

Georgia has not openly extradited Russian political activists so far, but there have been known cases of abductions and unlawful removals. The domestic political situation there is also having a negative effect, as the authorities have leaned toward a more pro-Russian course and rhetoric in recent years. There have been incidents in which anti-war Russians who took part in local protests or were “simply active” were barred from entering the country.

“Sometimes people leave for personal reasons and then are not allowed back in. We haven’t yet seen extraditions, but we do not advise staying there for the long term,” Kuchusheva said.

In March, Georgia expelled Russian artist Konstantin Rachkovsky, who had tried to obtain asylum, even as his wife remains in the country. And now Mikhail Timofeyev, a former aide to ex-Khabarovsk region governor Sergei Furgal, has been detained in Tbilisi. He has already been denied political asylum, and local authorities are expected to make a decision regarding extradition soon.

How the power balance has shifted

A major problem is that, given how the Americans and the Israelis have kept targeting military and political leaders throughout the war, the power map of the Islamic Republic is far from clear — often, even to senior Iranian officials.

The appointment of Mojtaba Khamenei to succeed his father raised more questions than it answered. Mojtaba has a reputation for holding more radical views than his father, although distinguishing personal persuasions from the institutional role of mediator among factions and personalities in Ali Khamenei’s decision-making is not easy.

The real issue, in any case, is what role Mojtaba is really playing. While it is understandable that he might never appear in public, he has made no appearance on video or audio either. While sources within the regime all agree that he was seriously wounded in the same strike that killed his father, as well as his wife and daughter, many started believing that he is not able to function at all. 

While sources within the regime all agree that he was seriously wounded in the same strike that killed his father, many started believing that he is not able to function at all

Very few individuals have had access to Mojtaba, and for almost two months the only policymaker among them was Ahmad Wahidi, the head of the Revolutionary Guards. Among those who questioned Wahidi’s account of Mojtaba’s thinking were also leading Iranian government figures, such as President Pezeshkian himself. According to sources within the Revolutionary Guards, Pezeshkian repeatedly questioned Wahidi’s account and requested direct access to Mojtaba or, failing that, at least video or audio messages from the new Supreme Leader, stating his views on specific issues. After much resistance, a regime source said he and several other senior officials were finally able to meet Mojtaba face to face in late April to discuss policy.

The fact that Pezeshkian has to beg Wahidi for access to the Supreme Leader says a lot about the expanded power and role of the Revolutionary Guards, who manage the entire war effort through the Military Council. The growing dominance of the Revolutionary Guards is also boosted by their ability to operate in a decentralised way. The moment the air campaign against Iran was launched on February 28, the Revolutionary Guards switched to a decentralised command and control system that allowed them to continue operating much more effectively than other military agencies, especially the Iranian army and air force. Their relatively strong performance has legitimized the Guards’ leadership role in the war.

None of this means, however, that the Revolutionary Guards are in full control. Despite the public bravado, the Guards’ leadership and rank-and-file know full well that there is widespread opposition to the regime within Iran, even if U.S.-Israeli attacks on targets including hospitals, civilian infrastructure, and even historical monuments quickly made it clear that the air campaign was not aimed at “liberating” Iran from the Islamic Republic, but at weakening the Iranian state and its economic and military potential, perhaps up to the point of causing its implosion.

Sources within the Revolutionary Guards are all well aware that any rise in patriotic sentiments will not last much beyond the end of the war, especially if Iran’s economic degradation continues. This seems to be a recurrent theme even at internal Guards briefings: the stress is on the need to ensure that the Islamic Republic finishes the conflict while it still has the resources to rebuild, otherwise the regime might not survive the resulting peace.

The IRGC’s leadership and rank-and-file know full well that there is widespread opposition to the regime within Iran, and any rise in patriotic sentiments will not last much beyond the end of the war

Iranian government sources put the damage inflicted on Iran so far at $260 billion, and when it comes to the need to find the resources to rebuild, everybody in Teheran agrees. However, the government believes that taking a softer approach in negotiations could isolate the Americans, avoid additional damage to infrastructure, and deliver a deal faster. By contrast, the Guards believe that in order to convince Trump and Netanyahu to end the war on terms acceptable to Tehran, Iran has to show that it can keep going regardless of the mounting costs.

Negotiations between factions and agencies

The Guards believe that the regime must show a united front to its enemies, even if the hardliners’ criticism of reformist politicians at home hints at the existence of internal divisions. Araghchi's occasional tweets, diverging from the line agreed behind closed doors, always draw the worst reactions from the Revolutionary Guards, such as when, immediately after the ceasefire was agreed, the president announced the opening of the Strait of Hormuz without clearly stating the conditions attached to the move — namely the screening measures and fees that the Guards had lobbied for.

And yet, the sometimes bitter internal debates between decision-makers at the top of the regime still seem to be accepted as a fact of life, even by the Guards. Aside from Wahidi — probably the most powerful man in Iran at the moment, given Mojtaba’s unclear status — other key players aligned with the Guards include Mohsen Rezaee (currently an adviser to Mojtaba) and Mohammad Bagher Zolghadr (the new Head of the Supreme National Security Council). While these men lobby for hardline outcomes, often what is finally decided is a compromise between their positions and those of the Pezeshkian camp, who is keener to keep the negotiations channel open in order to secure some way out of the conflict. 

The sometimes bitter internal debates between decision-makers at the top of the regime still seem to be accepted as a fact of life

While Pezeshkian and Minister of Foreign Affairs Abbas Araghchi position themselves as doves, the regime’s positions mostly reflect the views of conservative politicians, such as Ali Larijani (until his killing on 17 March) and Mohammed Bagher Qalibaf, the Speaker of the Islamic Consultative Assembly. While these two are often described as completely aligned with the Revolutionary Guards, sources within the latter describe how Larijani and Qalibaf often advocated policies very different from what the Guards pushed for. Larijani reportedly mediated between the Guards and the government in an effort to secure agreement on a radical offer concerning a “zero stockpile” uranium enrichment program, which was made to the U.S. just before the start of the war during the negotiations in Oman. Later, it was Qalibaf who mediated between hardliners and doves to get the ceasefire approved.

The Guards know it is all quite shaky

The reason why the Guards consent to negotiating with the Pezeshkian government is something deeper than mere respect for the institutions of the Islamic Republic. Their awareness of the shaky foundations of the Islamic Republic makes it clear to them that they need to have Pezeshkian’s moderate reformists on board, despite the hardliners’ misgivings about politicians of all stripes. When President Trump alleged that diplomatic exchanges were going on in the run-up to the ceasefire agreement, the Guards ridiculed those claims, not only in public but also in internal meetings. “There is no way somebody within the government might be talking to the Americans without us knowing,” insisted a source within the Guards. Later, however, the Guards’ intelligence department figured out that Qalibaf had indeed been communicating with the Americans via the Iranian Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Pakistani mediators. However upset and even humiliated they may have been, the Guards ended up accepting the fait accompli and giving up their opposition to the ceasefire.

The IRGC is making compromises with more moderate factions, as it is aware of the shaky foundations of the Islamic Republic

If the Guards do not have total control today, what should outsiders make of their imposition of Mojtaba as the new Supreme Leader? Sources within the Guards acknowledge that they spared no effort to push their candidate — Mojtaba — to the top. When the selection of the recently deceased Supreme Leader’s son encountered resistance within the ranks of the Experts Council, the Guards did not hesitate to aggressively lobby for him, going so far as to distribute financial incentives to the members of the Council. Sources within the Guards argue that for them it was essential to have Mojataba in charge in order to make sure that the Supreme Leader leaned towards the Guards rather than towards those softies in the government. Critics of the Guards argued that Mojtaba was unfit for the role and possibly sidelined, and that the Guards were fabricating statements and orders in his name. They eventually forced the Guards to give at least the most senior civilian officials some access to him — though as long as the war continues, the Guards may still get away with manipulating the situation..

The big question is what will happen if the war ends. At that point, the flaws in Mojtaba’s selection to the top job will become apparent — all the more so if it turns out he really is physically unable to perform his role.

The contours of a possible deal

Despite the American violations, Israel’s bombings of Lebanon, and misunderstandings over the re-opening of Hormuz, the Revolutionary Guards’ leadership reluctantly accepted the ceasefire — and even its extensions. They have also warmed up to some possible concessions concerning Iran’s 400+ kg of uranium enriched to 60%, with sources saying that they would be ready to accept handing over half of the amount to a third country for safekeeping. The Guards have so far refused concessions concerning the status of Hormuz, seeking to retain control over the waterway in order to raise funds for the reconstruction of Iran and, quite possibly, to assert Iranian dominance in the Gulf. They also seek to retain control over uranium enrichment for civilian purposes, support for the Axis of Resistance, and Iran’s ballistic missile arsenal.

Judging from what one can infer from the snippets of the internal discussions that sources within the regime are able to provide, the status of Hormuz might be negotiable, with the Guards emphasizing that the aim is to raise cash for reconstruction. Of course, the abolition of the international sanctions regime and the return of Iran’s frozen funds abroad could work just as well in this regard, with the added benefit of being at least somewhat more acceptable internationally. 

Sources within the regime say the IRGC is ready to discuss the status of the Strait of Hormuz if it helps secure funding for the country’s reconstruction

While the Guards seemingly did not stop Larijani and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs from offering “zero stockpiling” of fissile material before the war started, they now argue that Iran’s negotiating position has considerably strengthened, and they therefore oppose this concession. On the other hand, the U.S. still demands the dismantling of the entire nuclear programme, so the Guards might be aiming for a trade-off.

Agreeing on Iran’s ballistic missiles, whose range and number the Americans want to see curtailed, is going to be one of the toughest hurdles. The Guards know full well that the missiles are Iran’s only real deterrent left — and if anything, they want more of them, with better capabilities and longer range. The range of the missiles is really only an Israeli concern, but while Trump managed to get Israel to implement a ceasefire in Lebanon, forcing Netanyahu to swallow the status quo concerning the missiles might be too much, especially given the advances in precision and penetration capacity that the Iranians have been making.

Iranian support for the Axis of Resistance is perhaps somewhat easier to discuss. The Guards will never agree to reducing support, but given the weakening of the Axis in recent years and the logistical problems caused by the fall of the Assad regime in Syria, perhaps some ambiguous formula can be worked out even here.