We need to recap briefly the similarities between Alexander Litvinenko and Sergei Skripal, because they are stark.
Both served in the Russian security services; both faced prosecution in Russia; both found sanctuary in Britain; both co-operated with British intelligence agencies. And both were attacked with rare poisons, of kinds available only to governments. The only important difference is that Litvinenko’s murderers were successful, while Skripal is still fighting for his life.
Suspicion is strong that Litvinenko was killed because he was revealing secrets about the Kremlin’s business interests and the inquiry into his 2006 murder was pretty categorical about the identity of the poisoner. Judge Robert Owen, in his ruling two years ago, concluded there was a “strong probability” that the FSB had sent the two assassins who came from Russia to murder Litvinenko, in an operation “probably approved” by Vladimir Putin.
Considering the similarities between the two poisonings and the two victims, it is not alarmist to ask whether the same man also stands behind this new attempted murder. As Michael McFaul, a Russianist who tried and failed to improve US-Russia relations while President Barack Obama’s ambassador to Moscow, put it: “Is there anyone else, besides the Russian government, who would have a motive for trying to kill Skripal?”
That is the six-billion-rouble question. Poisoning one ex-spy in Britain might be a one-off, an exceptional act of retribution. But if the Kremlin has poisoned a second ex-spy in Britain, that looks like a policy. It was pure good fortune that no bystanders were harmed when Litvinenko was murdered, considering how carelessly his killers splashed polonium-210 around. The residents of Salisbury were not so lucky and no government can tolerate such reckless indifference to the wellbeing of its citizens.
It appears that Britain’s spies told the Tony Blair government the Litvinenko murder had been ordered from the highest levels of the Russian government long before the rest of us had that confirmed. But politicians felt unable to respond robustly because they wanted to retain Moscow’s co-operation in security matters. “They are too important for us to fall out with,” an unnamed minister told the Sunday Times before Litvinenko’s lead-lined coffin had even been buried.
We eventually expelled a handful of diplomats, after Russia refused to extradite the murderers, but Whitehall’s instinct remained to try to smooth things over, like a hostess offering canapes to a fractious party guest. After the coalition came to power in 2010, David Cameron visited Moscow to reset relations, in a policy mirrored by McFaul and Obama. They believed that if they just trusted Putin he would prove trustworthy: offer him enough vol-au-vents and he would calm down. The alternative was too ghastly to contemplate.
In 2014, Putin annexed Crimea and sent his implausibly deniable proxies into eastern Ukraine, where they shot down a civilian airliner, killing 298 people. Then Russian hackers broke into the Democratic party’s servers and in 2016 distributed its emails in an operation transparently aimed at influencing the American people’s democratic choice. The party guest was not mollified, smashed up the living room with a golf club and pushed the vicar into the pool.
It is a sign of how low relations have sunk between Russia and the west that there was an inquiry into the death of Litvinenko at all. As home secretary, Theresa May opposed publicly airing the evidence that Russia had killed a British citizen in the first deliberate nuclear attack since Nagasaki, to try to protect relations with Russia. It was only after Crimea that she gave way; there were no relations left worth saving.
This bad relationship should make sanctioning Putin’s government easier for our politicians to stomach, but in other ways, May’s job now is significantly harder than Blair’s was in 2006. For one thing, we no longer have a reliable ally in Washington. Donald Trump can be counted on to troll Sadiq Khan whenever there’s a terrorist attack in London but he is yet to bother tweeting about Sergei Skripal, his daughter, Yulia, DS Nick Bailey or the 18 other people affected by the nerve agent used last Sunday.
Trump’s indifference extends to his own country’s Russia problem. Last year, Congress asked the White House to study which Kremlin insiders could be targeted by sanctions, so it copied out a list from Forbes magazine. It would, in short, be foolish to rely on Washington for help against Putin. If US assistance is not forthcoming, the government needs to work with our European allies. It is a shame that so much of our diplomatic capital has been squandered on Brexit, instead of being held back for something important.
But acting alone is still possible. South-east England is a favourite playground of rich Russians. They keep their houses here, their children here, they float their companies on our stock exchange and they don’t make a secret of it. You’re not rich in Russia without being friends with Putin – in fact, there is a remarkably close correlation between the two groups – so if May’s government wants to send a message to the Russian president, it could cancel the visas of the members of his inner circle and, perhaps, try out the potency of its new “unexplained wealth orders”, by freezing their property. Then it should dismantle the mechanisms with which they launder their money.
As one MP told me yesterday: “We need to be arseholes, we need to be tough on the aristocrats and we need to kick their kids out.” This is the time to ask the party guest to leave. Putin’s people care most about getting rich and the only way to change their mind is to cost them money.
• Oliver Bullough is a journalist and the author of two nonfiction books about Russian history and politics: The Last Man in Russia and Let Our Fame Be Great