The Economist May 28th 2022 International 57
wrongdoing. Someone who works in Rus
sia for a company based in Paris recently
sent Bellingcat internal documents that
suggest a shipment of supposedly hu
manitarian goods actually contains garb
for Russian soldiers. To protect the em
ployee’s identity, Bellingcat is working to
prove the wrongdoing through other
means. It has obtained phone records
showing calls between Russia’s Ministry of
Defence and an organisation connected to
the Paris firm.
Bellingcat’s new informants are taking
greater risks than once was customary,
probably because Russia’s war is generat
ing such disgust. As Mr Grozev puts it, “Job
security is taking a back seat.” If the fight
ing grinds on, he expects the good tips
from within Russia to multiply.
Oil leaks
One outfit that saw the opportunity to cul
tivate new sources of information early on
is the Russian Tanker Tracking Group
(rttg). Hastily put together by Ukraine’s
government after the invasion, therttg
serves as a clearinghouse for tips from
people knowledgeable about trade in Rus
sian oil, from crew members to foreign of
ficials, says Oleg Ustenko, one of rttg’s
leaders. Mr Ustenko, who is also econom
ics adviser to Volodymyr Zelensky,
Ukraine’s president, says the rttg’s net
work of unpaid informants has grown with
revelations of Russian war crimes.
Though cagey about rttg’s informants,
Mr Ustenko describes many as “ordinary
people”. Legions of Ukrainians, he notes,
work on ships. (The International Cham
ber of Shipping, an industry body, recently
tallied 76,442 Ukrainian mariners.) “They
might be a good source,” he observes. Mr
Ustenko, who works from an undisclosed
location in Ukraine, boasts that the rttg
has such detailed information that it often
knows the breakdown of nationalities of
the crew on a given run by an oil tanker.
The rttgshares tips with Ukrainian
and foreign authorities. But because so
much of Russia’s oil trade remains legal,
the rttg also publicises information about
shipments in hopes of generating political
and consumer pressure. The stench of as
sociation with Russia has led some insur
ers and Western energy companies to limit
involvement with what Louis Wilson of
Global Witness, a pressure group that
works with the rttg, calls “blood oil”. Sim
ilarly, stories about multinationals still do
ing business with Russia are multiplying
in the Ukrainian press and then being
blasted out by Ukrainian publicrelations
firms to publications worldwide.
Russia has stopped publishing monthly
trade numbers. But The Economisthas esti
mated that Russia’s imports have fallen by
about 44% since it invaded Ukraine, while
its exports have risen by roughly 8%, in
part because Russia is earning about $1bn a
day from the sale of oil and gas. Although it
is not known how much banned trade may
be under way, it is thought that Russians
are particularly keen to import industrial
machinery; advanced semiconductors;
parts for aircraft, rockets and spacecraft;
components for radio communications;
and luxury goods such as cars and jewelle
ry. Russian businesses are believed to be
eager to illicitly export wood products, sea
food and liquor.
Because trade is so decentralised and
diffuse, conducted via closed shipping
containers or in the form of fungible com
modities, an informal, global network of
lowcost or volunteer spies can be of par
ticular value in spotting smugglers. Samir
Madani is a cofounder of TankerTrackers,
a firm with analysts in London and Stock
holm. Much of the information his team
parses comes from people paid to snap
photos of tankers in and near ports (the
hull’s draught reveals how much oil is on
board). But TankerTrackers also receives
tips free from workers. The information
sometimes includes pictures of falsified
shipping documents. The scoops are typi
cally sent to a “burner” smartphone that
TankerTrackers keeps in its Stockholm of
fices, where Mr Madani works.
In the past, such tips have tended to
come from sailors and port workers fed up
with the dictatorships they live under. Tips
about Iran’s cheating on sanctions—Mr
Madani calls it “wholesale obfuscation”—
multiplied after Ebrahim Raisi, a hard
liner, was elected president last June. As
Venezuela’s economy fell to new lows sev
eral years ago, disclosures about the re
gime’s illicit shipments of oil to prop up
Cuba’s government began to increase. Mr
Madani expects more messages from Rus
sian workers now that Mr Putin has gone
“into full dictator mode”.
The experience of a Ukrainian intelli
gence firm called Molfar, which has rough
ly 35 analysts in Kyiv and Dnipro, is illus
trative. Since late February, it has been con
tacted by about ten employees of Russian
payments companies who betrayed their
employers’ efforts to dodge sanctions.
Molfar gave the information to a news or
ganisation, ain.Capital, which on May 3rd
released on Facebook a list of 47 outfits
suspected of illicitly moving money in and
out of Russia. After the details were posted,
one of the firms named as a “cheat service”,
Bankoff, a payments company, announced
to its users that Visa and Stripe had noti
fied it that “Bankoff Card services have
been suspended due to the high volume of
active users and transactions from Russia.”
Some tipsters are motivated by anger at
Russia over rising prices on staples like
petrol and grains, says Ian Ralby, ceo of ir
Consilium, a consultancy that focuses on
maritime security and crime. irConsilium
advocates a “whole of society” approach to
gathering maritime intelligence; its clients
have included nato, America’s Depart
ment of Defence and the Oceania Customs
Organisation, a body based in Fiji that
helps 23 member countries and territories
improve customs operations.
The rewards for cheating can be big. A
London chartering manager who request
ed anonymity says outfits illicitly buying
Russian goods are scoring discounts of up
to 30%. Perhaps it’s little wonder, then,
that the manager’s vessel brokerage sees
more ships turning off their transpon
ders—devices that broadcast a vessel’s po
sition, course and speed—long enough to
duck in and out of Russian ports. Another
sign of mischief is that fewer details are re
leased about many transactions. In recent
weeks a Russian shipping agent in St Pet
ersburg began to send the London broker
age information about vessels breaking
Western sanctions, including by turning
off their transponders to reach St Peters
burg. In exchange, the informant may be
hoping for sweetheart deals when the bro
kerage resumes business with Russia.
The London brokerage keeps the infor
mation to itself, leaving its competitors to
risk fines. For its part, TankerTrackers sells
its information to clients that include
banks and insurers, which sometimes sev
er a suspected wrongdoer’s financing or in
surance. Lawyers for such outfits regularly
contact TankerTrackers to proclaim their
innocence. It shows them the evidence, Mr
Madani says, “and then they go quiet.”
The potential of this ad hoc intelligence
network has not gone unnoticed by Amer
ica’s Central Intelligence Agency. Early this
month it took to Facebook, Instagram and
YouTube to publish instructions in Rus
sian for securely sending in tips.Russia’s
regime and its companies, in theend,may
prove leakier than the sanctions.n