Mark Galeotti

There has never been any doubt that Ukraine was the focus of an intelligence war as much as a physical one. But the extent of Western assistance, as well as growing concern at some Ukrainian tactics, is only now becoming clear. On Monday, the Washington Post ran a lengthy examination of the level of CIA assistance for the Ukrainian Security Service (SBU) and military intelligence (HUR) that bore all the hallmarks of being facilitated by the US government. It acknowledged that since the annexation of Crimea in 2014, the Americans has invested ‘tens of millions’ of dollars in training and technical assistance for their Ukrainian counterparts, even building new headquarters for HUR’s special forces, for fear that the old ones were compromised.

America’s ATACMS long-range missiles were a potential ‘game changer’ to the war in Ukraine to some, a potential source of escalation to others. Now, with no real sense that either has proved true following Zelensky's confirmation this week they were used for the first time, what does that tell us? The MGM-140 Army Tactical Missile System (ATACMS) undoubtedly offers Kyiv new capabilities. It can deliver a 500-pound warhead or hundreds of cluster bomblets very accurately to a range of up to 190 miles. Unlike the Anglo-French Storm Shadows already in use, the two-ton missile is fired from a tracked HIMARS launcher rather than an aircraft and thus can respond very quickly to strike even mobile targets.

Such is the globalisation of the modern underworld, that the fate of a gangster you may never have heard of, in a country of which you may know little, may actually matter to you. I’d suggest this is true of the Kyrgyz godfather Kamchy Kolbayev, who was killed on Wednesday by a bullet in the head, during a police operation to arrest him in the capital, Bishkek. Kolbaev was widely recognised as the most powerful gangster in the Central Asian nation of Kyrgyzstan. Born in 1974, he took fullest advantage of the political and economic disruption that followed the collapse of the Soviet Union in the 1990s to establish a criminal empire that spanned smuggling drugs (notably heroin from Afghanistan), protection racketeering and money laundering.

Admiral Viktor Sokolov, commander of Russia’s Black Sea Fleet, appears to be Schrodinger’s admiral, alive according to Moscow, dead according to Kyiv, with no clarity as to who may be right. The real significance of the missile strike on his headquarters, though, is not so much whether it did kill him, but what it says about Ukrainian goals and capabilities. On Friday, Su-24M bombers of Ukraine’s 7th Tactical Aviation Brigade launched British-supplied storm shadow cruise missiles at the headquarters of the Black Sea Fleet in the Crimean port city of Sevastopol. Some were apparently jammed or shot down, but two slammed into the building, leaving it in flames.

If a little tyrant theatre is your goal, then rumbling across the border in an armoured train decked out like a palace (if your palace was decorated in the 1970s) is hard to beat. As North Korea's Kim Jong Un and Russia's Vladimir Putin met at the Vostochny spaceport, the Bond villain vibes were strong – and one might suspect that was the point.  As of writing, we don’t yet know the precise terms of whatever deal has been thrashed out. Even though his factories are running 24/7, Putin clearly wants more munitions for his war in Ukraine. North Korea's are reportedly of stunningly poor quality, but something is better than nothing, and at least they are built to Russian calibres.

Perfidious Albion is, we are told, at it again. In the course of a wide-ranging and often quite surreal speech at the Eastern Economic Forum in Vladivostok, Vladimir Putin accused Britain of being behind attempted nuclear terrorism, rhetorically asking whether the government was ‘trying to provoke us into retaliating against Ukrainian atomic power stations’ or whether the British Prime Minister even ‘knows what his secret services are doing in Ukraine?’ Needless to say, no evidence is forthcoming to support Putin’s claims that a number of Ukrainian ‘saboteurs’ had been intercepted and detailed by Russia’s Federal Security Service on their way to break the power lines at an unnamed Russian nuclear power station.

So much is still unclear about the fate of Wagner group head Yevgeny Prigozhin, from whether he really did die in the private jet that plummeted to the ground in Russia's Tver region to what caused the crash. In today's Russia, after all, 'mechanical problems' could be anything from maintenance issues to the difficulty in flying when a bomb has blown a hole in your fuselage. The odds are, though, that he is indeed dead. Putin himself offered lukewarm praise to the ‘talented businessman’ who nonetheless ‘made serious mistakes in his life’ (one of which may have been reassuring Putin’s guarantees). Three things would follow from this. First of all, that Wagner's fate is sealed.

When personal sanctions on Russian oligarchs and officials were imposed by the UK, US and EU after Putin’s invasion, the rationale was that this would undermine the Kremlin. In the main, this has failed – and there is still no coherent strategy to encourage those Russians willing to turn against the regime. Wider economic sanctions are slowly grinding away at the economic base of Putin's regime and its war machine. The case for personal sanctions is much less clear. It is absolutely right and proper that those directly involved in the war, conducting repressions or justifying aggression ought to be punished.

Perfidious Albion is at it again. The Kremlin’s increasingly unhinged obsession with seeing a British hand behind its various upsets has now manifested itself in a claim that the UK is behind the establishment of a death squad operating in Africa. The claim, trumpeted across Russia's state-run media, is that MI6 is behind a ‘punitive saboteur unit consisting of Ukrainian nationalists and neo-Nazis’ being trained for operations in Africa. According to an unnamed ‘military-diplomatic source,’ London requested in July that the Ukrainian government help it recruit this force.

The hacking of the Electoral Commission’s databases highlights the way that in the interconnected modern world, ‘warfare’ can be as much about undermining faith in a country’s institutions and disrupting its political processes as anything else. The Electoral Commission has admitted that ‘hostile actors’ penetrated their systems in August 2021, in a ‘complex cyberattack’ that was only detected in October 2022. In those 14 months, the hackers accessed the details (most, admittedly, openly available) of up to 40 million voters, as well as the commission’s email system. One former Russian spook from the SVR once admitted to me that ‘MI6, CIA and the rest are the opposition: it’s the FSB who are the enemy’ Was it the Russians?

Sir Richard Moore, head of the Secret Intelligence Service – MI6 – follows the tradition of only giving one public address a year, so it is inevitably scrutinised carefully for signs and portents. His speech at the UK embassy in Prague, inviting Russians to spy for Britain, required no particular reading between the lines. After a suitable preamble noting Britain’s strong relationship with the Czech Republic, he pivoted from Moscow’s brutal suppression of the liberal Prague Spring in 1968 to Soviets, the bravest of whom, seeing ‘the moral travesty of what was being done...acted on their convictions by throwing in their lot with us, as partners for freedom.

Despite the inevitable and performative expressions of anger, regret and dismay following this week’s Nato summit, Moscow feels it has reason to be moderately content with its outcome. It has seen Ukraine frustrated in its failure to secure Nato membership – and fractures emerge between Kyiv and the West. Moscow’s contentment, however, may well be misplaced. In fact, the summit’s inconclusiveness when it comes to Ukrainian membership has ensured a range of other initiatives which are rather less comfortable for the Kremlin.  The notion ahead of the summit that Ukraine would be invited to join the alliance before peace had been concluded – essentially forcing the rest of Nato into war – was always a non-starter.

When corrupt Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovych was toppled in 2014, his private estate at Mezhyhirya turned out to contain an ostrich farm, chandeliers worth thousands and and a two-kilo gold loaf of bread. When Wagner mercenary chief Yevgeny Prigozhin’s St Petersburg estate was raided, investigators found cash, guns – and a bizarre collection of wigs. But what does the eager ‘through the keyhole’ leak of footage from the raid tell us about the state of play in the Putin-Prigozhin grudge match? A giant sledgehammer in one room was inscribed, ‘For use in important negotiations’  Prigozhin himself is still at large.