The Litvinenko Inquiry – Clear eyes, cold heart, crossed fingers

There were two aspects of the Litvinenko Inquiry report, released yesterday, that surprised me. First, Sir Robert Owen, the Chairman of the Inquiry, having pulled no punches in stating who he thought had committed the murder in 2006, then went on to link the crime to President Putin in the strongest terms he was able to, given he was not speaking in a court of law.

This I find interesting, not only because I happen to believe it is correct (which you are quite at liberty to write-off as my love of Britannia and Pavlovian defence of the establishment). Apart from that, I find it interesting because of the difficult position it leaves the British Government in, a point I have alluded to in earlier blog posts about this inquiry (Parting Shots, Reading the Signals, Enemy at the Gates, Deeper Issues Deeper Questions, Small Details Big Impact).

If Sir Robert had really been acting as a government stooge he would have reined in his more inflammatory conclusions so as to leave the Prime Minister some wriggle room. David Cameron could then have huffed a few statements here and puffed a couple of asset freezes there, as he retreated behind a smokescreen of Davos-Migrant crisis-EU Referendum headlines, hand-wringing his way out of sight. So we can be reasonably assured of Sir Robert’s independence.

As it is, Mr Cameron has had to confront the issue head-on. And by issue, I mean the realities of global power politics. In his response, he was critical of Russia and then said: “But do we, at some level, go on having some sort of relationship with them because we need a solution to the Syria crisis? Yes we do…with clear eyes and a cold heart”. And that’s the nub of it: right now, there is greater need for a workable relationship with Russia, than there is to be seen to stand as a beacon of justice in the world. It’s called Realpolitik; one of the more enduring ideas Russia has imported from Germany.

Without a court of law, in which evidence could have been challenged and the accused offered a chance to explain their actions, the Inquiry was never going to be able to prove anything or hold any person or state entity to account. So, as expected, Russia has been all but accused of illegal actions, but by having to load the report with ‘probably’ and ‘possibly’ numerous times, they are able to dismiss any accusation of foul play.

They knew this all along, of course. Which led to my second eyebrow-raising moment. I was expecting a more sophisticated and nuanced response to the report from Russian officials and media. In typical fashion there was an immediate attempt to muddy the waters sufficiently to obscure the overwhelmingly compelling evidence.

The Russian Ambassador to the UK, Alexander Yakovenko, dutifully went through the motions of rebutting the report’s accusations in what, were it a Hollywood spy movie, would have been described as a ‘dialled-in’ performance. Andrei Lugovoy, one of the two alleged assassins, suggested Sir Robert Owen had “gone mad”. And Russia Today then waded in by casting aspersions on the Inquiry and its Chairman. They stated:

The report stresses that its conclusions are based on many witness opinions that “would not be admissible as evidence” and that in his report Sir Robert was not bound by strict procedural rules that apply to court hearings.

I won’t play ‘he-said-you said’ over this, all I’d ask is that you follow this link to the Inquiry report and have a look at the relevant passage, paragraph 9.205 on page 242, and make your own mind up. As I said: an unsophisticated response. (In none of the rebuttals will you find an explanation for the trail of polonium-210 linked to Lugovoy and Dmitri Kovtun.)

So where does it all leave us? I think the Inquiry has produced the most accurate findings it could, given the limitations of the proceedings. We can be reasonably sure we now know what happened and why. The reality of the relationship between nation states had been laid bare for all to see, if it was ever in doubt. And a spotlight has been thrown on the regressive, reductionist and brutish state of Russian politics in 2016.

What happens next, I think, is up to Mr Putin. Mr Cameron cannot take any meaningful action, so Russia need not damage international relations further. In a few weeks, disappointingly but realistically, most of the world will move on. But if Russia miscalculates in Ukraine, Estonia (which hosts a sizeable minority of Russian nationals that Mr Putin has talked of ‘needing protection’) or Syria in the near future, the demands for some sort of concerted diplomatic action could become overwhelming.


The Litvinenko Inquiry – Parting shots

So, despite much publicity and expectation, the keenly-sought evidence from Dmitri Kovtun, one of the two alleged murderers of Alexander Litvinenko, did not, after all, materialise.

The Inquiry has been adjourned since the end of public hearings in March. Late in proceedings Kovtun had said he wished to provide evidence via video-link and the Chairman had set aside a few days at the end of July for his testimony.  The day before he was expected to appear Kovtun pulled out, claiming legal difficulties in Russia. Few believed his actions to be anything other than a stunt, aimed either at gaining access to Inquiry materials that would be released to any ‘core’ participant, or simply as a snub to the process. Ben Emmerson, counsel to the Litvinenko family, said Kovtun’s failure to appear was because “he could never have provided a credible answer for [the] overwhelming compelling evidence [against him]”. Regardless, the Inquiry has concluded.  The last two days were taken up with closing testimonies from the Metropolitan police Service and counsel to the Litvinenko family. Neither pulled any punches.

Richard Horwell, counsel for the police, said that Kovtun and Andrei Lugovoy are still wanted for murder, stating they have “no credible answer to the scientific evidence, and to the trail of polonium they left behind”. He poured scorn on alternative theories (largely suggested by Lugovoy and Kovtun) for Litvinenko’s poisoning by polonium-210, the established cause of death. At a press conference Kovtun held in Moscow on April 8th 2015, he claimed Litvinenko’s death was an ‘inadvertent suicide’, “new terminology for all of us, no doubt,” said Mr Horwell, “perhaps his message was lost in translation.”

He also suggested that the Russian state lay behind the assassination. Referring to the tell-tale signs of polonium-210 the pair left in hotels, restaurants, aircraft and offices, Mr Horwell said “Lugovoy and Kovtun were not the bungling assassins as some have suggested. They were simply ignorant of the true qualities of the poison they carried and we suggest that ignorance was essential for those engaged to administer it covertly”. The reason for this? “However important Lugovoy and Kovtun may think they are, to their masters, they were and are quite simply expendable.” Strong stuff.

Mr Emmerson, for the Litvinenko family, suggested Putin’s personal culpability. His award, on March 9th this year, of a medal of honour to Lugovoy for services to the motherland was a “menacing gesture of support [for his] henchman and executioner”. But, “with typical bluster and feigned indifference, the president of the Russian Federation has set about proving the very connection he is trying so hard to conceal”. Mr Emmerson described Putin as a “tinpot despot” and “morally deranged authoritarian”.

Such bluster inevitably appeared in the headlines and I worry that it may obscure the very compelling forensic evidence against the alleged assassins. The appearance of polonium-210 in the streets of London and Germany, on British Airways aircraft, in Arsenal’s Emirates stadium and in numerous hotel rooms with Lugovoy and Kovtun the common links in all cases is damning. The Inquiry’s conclusions as to the wider motive, Russian state involvement and Putin’s approval for such action will be harder to prove beyond reasonable doubt (although as an inquiry, such a legal benchmark will not be used).  It will, anyway, be immediately dismissed by Russia.  But, as I asked in the first post from the inquiry, any suggestion of Russian state involvement will present a diplomatic problem for the British government.

Sir Robert Owen will report his Inquiry’s findings before the end of the year.  Will it change anything? Russia Today is already retaliating, linking the inquiry to the EU sanctions against Russia and dismissing criticism by stating “the Litvinenko Inquiry is part of a package which presents Russia as a bad guy and puts it in the worst possible light”. But given Russia’s recent veto of a UN Security Council resolution to prosecute those responsible for shooting down Malaysian airliner MH17 over Ukraine and repeated probing of NATO defences by Russian forces, I suspect the Inquiry’s conclusions will just become part of the background to the worsening relationship between Russia and the West.

Full details and daily transcripts from the Inquiry can be seen at

The Litvinenko Inquiry – Small details, big impact.

Days 3 and 4 – February 2nd and 3rd 

Small details can easily be muscled aside in big stories. But it is often the little things that provide the human context, especially where the subject matter is otherwise too extraordinary to allow such mundane issues to see much daylight. Marina and Anatoly Litvinenko, widow and son of Alexander, provided many such details in the evidence they gave over the last two days at the public inquiry into the Russian spy’s murder.

Marina described the evening of November 1st 2006 when Alexander first started vomiting, as he reacted to the radioactive polonium-210 he had supposedly ingested earlier that day. At first she thought she had added too much chilli to the chicken dish she had prepared for dinner in their Muswell Hill home.  Alexander moved into the spare room so as to allow Marina some sleep, so often was he dashing to the bathroom.  But within two days he was in Barnet General Hospital.

Having been transferred to University College Hospital and apparently aware he was  going to die, Alexander converted to Islam; an imam brought into the hospital specifically for that purpose. His father, Valter, arrived two days before Alexander died. Entering his hospital room Valter, a religious man, crossed himself. Alexander remarked, “Father, I am now a muslim”. “It doesn’t matter,” Valter replied, “at least you’re not communist.”

Earlier the inquiry had heard from Marina how Alexander had been a member of the Economic Security and Organised Crime unit (URPO), a secret part of the FSB (successor to the KGB) and little known even within the FSB itself.  He decided to speak out against the unit when Alexander Kamyshnikov, URPO’s deputy chief, allegedly told him to murder Boris Berezovsky, then a political advisor to the Russian President Boris Yeltsin, with the words: “you know Berezovsky – you will take him out.” In an ironic twist, after Mr Litvinenko aired these allegations Nikolai Kovalyov, head of the URPO (and a respected friend of Mr Litvinenko) resigned and Vladimir Putin took command. Marina suggested that her husband already knew of Putin’s alleged links to a St Petersburg crime syndicate, and that Mr Litvinenko’s disclosure of both the unit and it’s role in political assassinations immediately made an enemy of Putin. Thus started Mr Litvinenko’s estrangement from the Russian security apparatus, his arrest and imprisonment and eventual flight with his family from the “foul aroma of this political kitchen,” in his father’s words.

Marina’s evidence was impressively composed. On only three occasions did she falter. First, she showed extreme discomfort when discussing her husband’s allegations that Putin is a paedophile (allegedly evidenced by lifting a boy’s shirt to kiss his stomach – picture here). Whether she disagreed with her husband’s accusation or reacted to the subject matter we will not know. The second occasion was when tears came to her as she described the last conversation with her husband, on November 22nd 2006. As she was leaving the hospital he said “I love you so much.” She told the inquiry: “I tried to make a game, just like a joke, I said ‘Oh, finally’, because I haven’t listened this for a long time, because it’s usually, he says this every day, and I say, ‘I’m so happy you say it me’, and just, ‘See you tomorrow’, and ‘Everything will be fine’ “. She never saw him alive again.

The third occasion she appeared particularly animated was when questions were put to her regarding Mr Litvinenko’s relationship with MI6 (Britain’s overseas spy agency).  Among records of congestion charge payments and Tesco shopping, bank records showed a regular monthly payment from MI6 of £2000 (see here). This contradicted statements Marina had made to the Sunday Telegraph in 2007 denying he had ever been an agent for MI6. Technically, in the intelligence jargon, she was correct; Mr Litvinenko was a contractor on a rolling contract, not a salaried employee of MI6 and certainly not a paid informant directed by MI6 to provide information on specific organisations to which they have access (the usual description of an ‘agent’). But the meaning of the question would be clear to most and the paper ran the headline ‘Litvinenko’s widow denies MI6 link’ (see link). Her answer at the time was disingenuous and she appeared uncomfortable when it was raised.

More to follow…

All linked material reproduced here is courtesy of the Litvinenko Inquiry –