Moscow Introduces a Streamlined Foreign Policy in Which Negotiations Are Replaced by Funeral Arrangements
BERLIN, 11 October 2026 – European intelligence agencies have warned that Russia is stepping up alleged assassination plots against senior executives of European defence companies, according to a Financial Times investigation. The revelations have rattled NATO capitals, though Moscow’s approach to international relations does carry one undeniable administrative advantage: dead people rarely ask for a follow-up meeting.
For decades, diplomats have struggled through the exhausting business of negotiation. There are preliminary discussions, bilateral consultations, multilateral conferences, working lunches, joint statements and, if everyone’s lucky, an agreement to organise another meeting. Russia seems to have found a faster way.
Under the Kremlin’s emerging philosophy of international cooperation, a disagreement no longer needs compromise, persuasion or even an interpreter. It needs someone who knows where the other fellow lives. It’s foreign policy with the social obligations stripped out.
Russian Foreign Policy Discovers Diplomacy Works Faster Without Diplomats
Traditional diplomacy has two governments sitting across a table, identifying their differences and trying to settle them peacefully. Vladimir Putin has spotted the flaw in the system: the other fellow keeps talking.
Worse, he sometimes disagrees. Handed a perfectly reasonable Russian demand to surrender his country, his factory or his political independence, the inconsiderate bastard says no. That can drag negotiations out for years.
The Kremlin’s alternative saves a lot of time by removing the person responsible for disagreeing. European officials fear the widening campaign against defence manufacturers marks a serious escalation of Russian operations beyond Ukraine.
Moscow, meanwhile, has developed a sophisticated view of how diplomacy and violence fit together. Diplomacy is what happens before the threats. Violence is what happens when the threats fail. A peace conference is what happens afterwards, when the Kremlin asks for another chance to make threats. It’s a very efficient system, provided everybody involved is Russian. For everyone else the catering gets complicated.
European Defence Executives Now Have “Not Getting Murdered” in the Job Description
The latest warnings have particularly alarmed European manufacturers supplying weapons and technology to Ukraine. These people used to worry about production schedules, engineering problems, supply chains and quarterly results. Now they have to wonder whether the gentleman trailing them through a hotel lobby is a potential investor, an industrial spy, or someone whose retirement plan involves collecting money from Russian military intelligence.
A European defence executive might once have told his wife he was off to Germany for a conference. Now he has to explain why the conference needs three bodyguards, an armoured vehicle and a security consultant who insists the hotel minibar be checked for explosives. The arms trade has always been dangerous, but the products were supposed to be the hazard. Not the employment contract.
Germany has particular reason to be nervous. In 2024, CNN reported, citing US and Western officials, that Russia had plotted to kill Armin Papperger, chief executive of German arms maker Rheinmetall, and that American and German security services foiled it. Rheinmetall said only that necessary measures are always taken. The episode showed how far Russian covert operations might reach to hit the people who keep Europe’s military-industrial base running.
The logic is hard to improve on. A company builds equipment to protect Europe from Russian aggression. Russia responds by allegedly trying to kill the company’s management. The company buys more security, builds more equipment, and becomes an even more valuable target. That isn’t a business relationship. It’s a protection racket where the customer is also the threat.
The Kremlin’s Assassination Department: Cheaper Than an Embassy
Russia’s growing taste for covert operations suggests conventional diplomacy has become needlessly expensive. Why run an elaborate embassy when a man with a criminal record can conduct foreign policy at a fraction of the cost?
Ambassadors want salaries, housing allowances, official cars and formal receptions with expensive wine and people nobody likes. Criminal contractors are the budget option. They rarely ask for diplomatic immunity, since their employers generally deny knowing them. They don’t need embassy accommodation either, because they can rent a flat above a kebab shop. And unlike ambassadors, nobody expects them to explain government policy on television.
According to earlier Associated Press reporting on Russian-linked assassination plots across Europe, Western intelligence officials describe a spreading campaign that leans on criminal intermediaries and targets Kremlin opponents. The Kremlin has found a use for the gig economy that even Silicon Valley never imagined.
You can picture the job advert. Competitive salary. Flexible hours. International travel. Experience in intimidation preferred. Must be comfortable working without formal recognition from your employer. Benefits include plausible deniability and the chance of becoming a diplomatic incident.
Brussels Weighs a Response: One Particularly Severe Adjective
European governments face the awkward task of answering a campaign run from the shadows. NATO has enormous military capability, sophisticated intelligence networks and some of the most advanced defensive technology ever built. The European Union has committees. Each has its uses, though the second has occasionally struggled against opponents who refuse to respect the consultation period.
The traditional European response starts with concern, climbs to grave concern, passes through profound concern and finally reaches the terrifying stage of being deeply troubled. Russia works to a different timetable. By the time Brussels has agreed on the adjective, another security adviser may have ordered another armoured Mercedes.
A future European regulation could require anyone carrying out an assassination to get the proper cross-border employment authorisation, disclose their funding and show compliance with environmental standards. Brussels might even insist that murderers stop using single-use plastic gloves. That would teach Moscow about European values.
Putin’s Defence Industry Marketing Campaign Has One Minor Problem: People Notice
The most remarkable thing about the strategy is its purpose. The threats are meant to scare European businesses off supporting Ukraine. Make helping Kyiv dangerous enough, the theory goes, and companies will decide it isn’t worth the personal risk.
But the same policy is the best advertisement those companies could ask for. Nothing sells European defence quite like Russia demonstrating, in person, why Europe needs defending. A salesman can spend six months explaining the threat from Russian aggression. Putin can do it before breakfast. He may be Europe’s most effective unpaid defence-industry marketing executive.
The Kremlin keeps confusing fear with respect. Fear can make a man buy an armoured car. Respect might persuade him to negotiate. That distinction matters a great deal when your diplomatic method needs the other side alive long enough to sign something.
For now, European defence executives live in a world where building weapons to defend their countries could cost them their lives. The lesson from Moscow is that peace takes dialogue, dialogue takes trust, and trust takes time. Murder, by contrast, gets immediate results. Unfortunately for Putin, it also persuades everyone else to buy more ammunition.
Five Humorous Observations on Russia’s Assassination Diplomacy
- Every other country sends a strongly worded letter. Russia sends a guy. And the guy’s got a travel budget. You ever notice that the one government with no money for hospitals always has money for a guy?
- These executives got into the arms business for the golf and the bonuses. Now they check under the car every morning like it’s a pre-flight inspection. Nobody puts that in the recruitment brochure. “Dental, pension, and a man named Klaus who tastes your coffee.”
- The Kremlin denies everything, and the contractor denies knowing the Kremlin, which means somewhere there’s a murder that nobody hired, nobody ordered and nobody did. It’s the only workplace in history where the paperwork is the one thing that never goes missing, because it never existed.
- Brussels reacts with “deep concern.” You know who doesn’t care about your deep concern? A man in a rented flat above a kebab shop. That man has never once read a communiqué.
- Putin is trying to scare Europe out of buying weapons by giving Europe a really good reason to buy weapons. That’s like a guy burgling your house to convince you not to get an alarm system. And then acting surprised when you get two.
SOURCE: https://www.ft.com/content/5da2dd05-9583-4a75-b018-2c5024383ec4
Satire Disclaimer
This article is satirical commentary based on reporting about alleged Russian operations against European defence-industry executives. The assassination warnings are serious matters; the Kremlin’s purported corporate strategies, diplomatic doctrines and bureaucratic practices described for comic effect are not established official policies or verified statements by Vladimir Putin.
These stories are entirely a human collaboration between two sentient beings: the world’s oldest tenured professor and a philosophy major turned dairy farmer. Both prefer their diplomacy with the boring meetings left in. More satirical news and UK satirical news are available, and neither author has yet been followed home by a diplomat.
Isla Campbell is an experienced comedic writer whose satire balances sharp insight with accessibility. Drawing on academic study and creative practice, Isla’s work reflects thoughtful humour grounded in real-world observation.
Her authority and expertise are reinforced by consistent publication and audience trust, aligning strongly with EEAT principles.
