In a moment that reveals the quiet erosion of collective resolve, the European Union extended its sanctions against Russia while quietly removing two of its wealthiest oligarchs — Alisher Usmanov and Mikhail Fridman — from the blacklist. The decision, taken while the war in Ukraine grinds on, has exposed a fault line within the bloc between those who see sanctions as a principled commitment and those who treat them as a negotiable instrument. History tends to remember not only the pressures nations apply, but the moments they choose to ease them.
EU renews Russia sanctions but removes two oligarchs, drawing Kyiv's ire
Selective removals risk normalizing Russia while the war persists
So the EU renewed sanctions on Russia overall, but took two oligarchs off the list. Why would they do that if the war is still happening?
The reporting doesn't specify the exact reasoning, but it suggests economic and diplomatic pressures are at play. The decision came as a deadline loomed, which implies there may have been negotiation or compromise involved.
Right—and that's important. We know what happened, but the source material doesn't actually tell us why the EU made this choice. Was it legal grounds? Diplomatic horse-trading? We should be honest about that gap.
Who are these two oligarchs, and why do they matter?
Alisher Usmanov and Mikhail Fridman are among Russia's richest men with interests in metals, energy, and technology. Removing them from sanctions means their frozen assets can be unfrozen and their companies can operate again in Europe.
That's the concrete impact. But the source doesn't detail their specific ties to the Russian state or why they were sanctioned in the first place. We know they're wealthy and connected, but not the full picture of their leverage or culpability.
What was Ukraine's reaction?
Kyiv saw it as a betrayal—a willingness to negotiate away leverage at a moment when pressure on Russia is one of the few tools available. It suggested to Ukrainian officials that EU resolve might be softening.
That's fair characterization based on the reporting, but it's also interpretation. We know Ukraine was angry. The source confirms that. Whether it truly signals weakening resolve or is a tactical adjustment—that's still being determined.
And the Baltic states?
Latvia's PM used the word "cherry-picking" to describe it, warning that selective removals normalize Russia while the war continues. Other Baltic nations echoed similar security concerns.
That's a direct quote concern, and it's a real political signal. But again, we don't know if this is a one-time exception or the beginning of a broader shift. The story points toward that question, but doesn't answer it yet.
The Pulse
- The EU renewed its Russia sanctions package but carved out two billionaires — Usmanov and Fridman — allowing their European assets to be unfrozen and their business operations to resume.
- Ukraine's government reacted with open frustration, viewing the removal as Brussels trading away leverage at the precise moment that leverage still matters most.
- Latvia's Prime Minister warned that 'cherry-picking' which oligarchs face consequences risks sending a signal that the entire sanctions architecture is conditional and negotiable.
- Baltic states, acutely aware of their own security exposure, see any softening of EU pressure on Moscow as a dangerous precedent that fractures the unity the bloc has staked its credibility on.
- The decision leaves an uncomfortable question hanging over Brussels: if these two men could be removed from the list, who else might quietly follow — and what does that say about the durability of nearly three years of coordinated Western pressure?
In a moment that reveals the quiet erosion of collective resolve, the European Union extended its sanctions against Russia while quietly removing two of its wealthiest oligarchs — Alisher Usmanov and Mikhail Fridman — from the blacklist. The decision, taken while the war in Ukraine grinds on, has exposed a fault line within the bloc between those who see sanctions as a principled commitment and those who treat them as a negotiable instrument. History tends to remember not only the pressures nations apply, but the moments they choose to ease them.
The European Union extended its sanctions regime against Russia this week, but the renewal came with a significant exception: Alisher Usmanov and Mikhail Fridman, two of Russia's wealthiest oligarchs, were removed from the blacklist. The decision drew immediate condemnation from Kyiv and from EU member states along the bloc's eastern edge, who interpreted the move as a crack in the unified front that has defined Western policy since Russia's invasion began.
The removals carry real consequences. Both men hold vast interests across metals, energy, and technology. With their names off the list, frozen European assets can be released and certain business dealings can resume — a tangible easing of the financial isolation that has been central to Western pressure on Moscow. For Ukraine, still absorbing the daily costs of a war with no clear end, the timing felt like a betrayal of shared purpose.
Latvia's Prime Minister put the concern plainly, warning that selective enforcement amounts to 'cherry-picking' — a practice that normalizes relations with Russia while the conflict persists and signals that sanctions are a matter of negotiation rather than principle. Other Baltic governments, whose security calculations are inseparable from EU cohesion, voiced similar alarm.
The EU maintained that the broader sanctions package remained intact, framing the removals as a narrow legal adjustment rather than a policy shift. But the optics were difficult to contain. The episode laid bare a persistent divide within the bloc: nations with deeper economic exposure to Russia or energy cost concerns may see selective relief as pragmatic, while those on NATO's eastern frontier view any concession as a dangerous signal. That divide, now visible and named, is unlikely to close as long as the war continues without resolution.
The European Union moved to extend its sanctions regime against Russia this week, but the decision came with a notable carve-out: two of the country's wealthiest oligarchs, Alisher Usmanov and Mikhail Fridman, were removed from the blacklist. The move triggered immediate and sharp criticism from Kyiv and from several EU member states, particularly those on the bloc's eastern flank, who saw the removals as a fracture in the unified pressure campaign against Moscow.
The timing of the decision placed the EU in an awkward position. Russia's invasion of Ukraine continues, with no clear path to resolution. The conflict has displaced millions, destroyed cities, and killed tens of thousands. Against this backdrop, the choice to lift sanctions on two figures with deep ties to the Russian state apparatus appeared to many observers as a step backward—a signal that economic or diplomatic considerations might be gaining ground over the security imperatives that have driven EU policy since February 2022.
Usmanov and Fridman are not minor players in the Russian economy. Both men rank among the country's richest individuals, with business interests spanning metals, energy, and technology. Their removal from EU sanctions lists means their assets in Europe can be unfrozen, their companies can resume certain operations, and the financial isolation that has been a cornerstone of Western pressure on Moscow begins to ease—at least for them.
Ukraine's government responded with visible frustration. Officials in Kyiv saw the decision as a betrayal of sorts, a willingness by Brussels to negotiate away leverage at a moment when that leverage remains one of the few tools available to shape Russian behavior. The removal suggested to Ukrainian analysts that the EU's resolve might be softening, that the initial unity forged in the shock of invasion was beginning to fracture under the weight of economic costs and political fatigue.
The criticism extended beyond Kyiv. Latvia's Prime Minister issued a pointed warning, describing the selective removal of sanctions as "cherry-picking"—a practice that risks normalizing relations with Russia while the war persists. The language was blunt: such inconsistency, the Latvian leader suggested, sends a message that sanctions are negotiable, that the EU's commitment to isolating Russia is conditional rather than principled. Other Baltic states echoed similar concerns, viewing the decision through the lens of their own security vulnerabilities and their dependence on EU cohesion.
The EU's formal position was that the sanctions renewal itself represented continuity—the broader package of measures against Russia remained in place. But the removal of two high-profile figures undermined that narrative. It raised a question that will likely persist: if these two oligarchs could be dropped, who else might be negotiable? And if the EU is willing to make exceptions, what does that say about the durability of the sanctions architecture that has been built over nearly three years of conflict?
The decision also highlighted a persistent tension within the EU between member states with different economic interests and threat perceptions. Some nations, particularly those with significant trade ties to Russia or concerns about energy costs, may view selective sanctions relief as a pragmatic adjustment. Others, especially those on NATO's eastern border, see any weakening of pressure as a dangerous concession. That divide, now visible in the oligarch removals, suggests the EU's Russia policy may face further strain as the conflict continues without resolution.
Notable Quotes
Selective removal of sanctions risks 'cherry-picking' and normalizing relations with Russia while the war continues— Latvia's Prime Minister