the times | Saturday April 9 2022 saturday review 15the way of the Putin regime: from the poli-
tician Boris Nemtsov, gunned down yards
from the Kremlin (local CCTV had been
switched off for “maintenance”) to the
whistleblower Alexander Perepilichnyy
(collapsed, green foam emerging from
his mouth).
Browder is something of a media dar-
ling. His first memoir, Red Notice, was a
bestseller. If the early publicity for Freezing
Order is indicative — and even Browder’s
most murderous detractors would con-
cede he is an adept self-publicist — this
sequel will be just as influential. Certainly,
Freezing Order could not have come at a
better time. It is among a crop of excellent
recent books about Russia, including
Catherine Belton’s Putin’s People, and
books about the mechanics of inter-
national money laundering: see Kleptopia
by Tom Burgis and Oliver Bullough’s
Butler to the World.
If its subject matter weren’t so grave, the
book could be said to have all the elements
of a high-octane drama. Murder. Conspir-
acy. Piles of dirty money. Sexual intrigue.
Freezing Order shudders with the constant
threat of assassination, abduction or
sudden, extreme violence. It is a tense and
gripping read.B
ill Browder — hedge-fund man-
ager, “five-foot-nine”, “middle-
aged”, “bald” and bespectacled —
is not an obvious leading man. Yet
his latest book, Freezing Order, is
a Hollywood popcorn thriller disguised as
a memoir.
It tells the story of Browder’s quest to
establish a global regime for sanctioning
Russians involved in corruption and crim-
inality. But it reads like an international
spy thriller. Shuttling between Moscow,
Madrid, Helsinki, New York, Paris, Wash-
ington DC and London, it could have been
titled “The Browder Identity” or “Tinker,
Tailor, Soldier, Browder”. Written and
directed by Bill Browder, produced by
Browder Studios, with Bill Browder star-
ring in the title role of Bill Browder.
Since 2009 Browder has waged a cam-
paign to avenge the death of the 37-year-
old lawyer Sergei Magnitsky, who died in
Russian state custody while working for
Browder’s firm Hermitage Capital Man-
agement. Before his arrest, Magnitsky had
alleged that interior ministry officials had
stolen Hermitage corporate records, com-
pany seals and tax certificates, and
(through a shady network of organised
crime and corrupt officials) used them
to fraudulently claim a $230 million (£144
million) tax refund.
Browder says that, after Magnitsky’s
death, he “put aside everything else in my
life” and devoted “all of my time, all of my
resources, and all of my energy to making
sure that anyone involved in Sergei’s
false arrest, torture, and murder... would
face justice”. He fairly describes this as
an “obsession”.
A decade on, Browder has receipts to
show for his — and many others’ — dedi-
cation. There are now tens of so-called
Magnitsky laws around the world, which
give governments power to sanction for-
eigners involved in human rights abuses or
corruption. Some of these laws have been
invoked in response to Russia’s invasion
of Ukraine.
Browder’s central thesis can be stated
shortly. He believes that a trillion dollars of
dirty money — the proceeds of crime and
corruption — has been, or will be, laun-
dered out of Russia for the benefit of high-
ranking Russian officials, up to and includ-
ing Vladimir Putin himself.Moreover, he believes that the Russian
authorities will stop at nothing to protect
their ill-gotten wealth and power: bribery,
blackmail, kidnap, bogus criminal charges,
disinformation campaigns, interference in
foreign elections and, of course, murder.
Freezing Order is filled with the mangled
bodies of those who have tried to stand inMurder, revenge and
Putin’s dirty money
An exposé of Kremlin criminality is a tense and gripping read
— with all the ingredients of a thriller, says Jamie Susskind
The supporting cast is large and colour-
ful (“Browder’s Eleven”?). There’s Vadim,
the quirky but brilliant analyst. Bill, the
rumpled, dogged investigative reporter.
“Valium”, the lethal Chechen assassin.
Viktor, the Russian lawyer who allegedly
prosecutes a corpse. Svetlana, the “six-
foot, busty blonde model” whose tenacious
efforts at seduction are stoutly resisted by
our hero (“This couldn’t have been a more
blatant honey trap”). There’s even a satis-
fying cameo from the Trump consigliere
Anthony Scaramucci, who cups his hands
over a pair of vast imaginary testicles and
tells Browder he had “some brass f***ing
balls” for “taking on Putin”.
The central villain of the piece, other
than Putin, is the unimprovably named
John Moscow: a fabled New York litigator
who, Browder alleges, starts as an ally but
turns to the dark side. (As an aside, the
book is a kind of waking nightmare for
lawyers. It lurches from detailed exposi-
tion of privileged legal advice to sweeping
accusations against powerful individuals,
to damning — and largely justified —
commentary on the profession.)
For all its razzmatazz, Freezing Order
shows what it is like to resist an authoritar-
ian regime, year in, year out. The work is
difficult, tedious, sometimes fruitless and
often thankless. In the early days of the
Magnitsky campaign, Browder was the
kind of guy who would turn up at legal
conferences waving greasy sheaves of evi-
dence at weary delegates who were trying
to enjoy the buffet.
Now, even though Browder is a rich and
influential man, his life is permanently
stained by fear, paranoia and danger. If he
fell into the hands of Russian authorities,
the best-case scenario would be decades of
hard labour in a prison camp. The worst
case does not bear contemplation.
The book has a conspiratorial edge,
which can be alienating as well as intoxica-
ting. The cautious reader will be on guard,
not least where Browder presents plausi-
ble speculation with the same confidence
that he presents established facts.
Yet Browder writes with fastidious at-
tention to detail, like a witness trying
to impress a jury with the precision and
extent of his recollection. This is under-
standable. He is on the front line of an
information war. Any errors, omissions or
inconsistencies will be ammunition for his
foes. In truth, not every detail in the book
adds to the reading experience. Even the
most devoted reader does not need to
know the quality of the pasta he ate for
lunch at a Cambridge college in 2010.
Freezing Order leaves its reader with
three lasting impressions. The first is of a
brave, sometimes reckless, man in pursuit
of a noble cause. Yes, Browder’s occasional
self-importance and monomania can be
grating. But who cares? He is standing up
to a global bully at considerable personal
risk. You will admire him. You will worry
about him. You will fear for his family.
The second is of a monstrously degener-
ate Russian regime. “There’s now no dif-
ference,” Browder says, “between the
Russian government and organised
crime.” Freezing Order will convince you of
the truth of this proposition, if the head-
lines of 2022 have not done so already.
The third is the power of storytelling. If
Freezing Order sometimes reads like a
lengthy witness statement, that’s because
it is a work of testimony. Good stories cut
through, and this is one of them. Bearing
witness to wrongdoing is a necessary step
in reversing it. A book can be a kind of
justice in itself.
Jamie Susskind is a barrister and the
author of The Digital Republic
(Bloomsbury) and Future Politics
(OUP)Bill Browder
is a brave,
sometimes
reckless man
in pursuit of
a noble cause
TIMES PHOTOGRAPHER RICHARD POHLEBill Browder.
Below: the funeral
of Sergei Magnitsky,
whose death
prompted Browder
to actionFreezing Order
A True Story of
Russian Money
Laundering, Murder
and Surviving
Vladimir Putin’s Wrath
by Bill BrowderSimon & Schuster,
314pp; £20