The board meeting begins at 10 p.m. in a glass tower overlooking a rain-slicked Frankfurt. The mood is one of managed crisis. For months, the company, a massive German industrial conglomerate called "Verbund AG," has been bleeding reputationally. Activists have been protesting at their gates, ESG funds have been putting them "on review," and a leaked internal email showing sales forecasts for their Russian division has been circulating on social media, captioned simply, "Business as usual."
The first presentation, led by the Head of Public Relations, is titled "Project Values." It is a symphony of corporate virtue. He unveils the press release, headline: "Verbund AG Begins Orderly and Responsible Exit from Russia, Stands with Ukraine." He plays the promotional video: somber piano music over images of Ukrainian flags and weeping families, ending with the Verbund AG logo bathed in a soft, hopeful light. "The messaging, you will see, is unequivocal," he says. "We are doing the right thing. Full stop." The CEO, a man renowned in the business press for his visionary leadership, nods his slow, deliberate approval. "Excellent, Klaus. Exactly the tone we need to strike."
Then, Klaus and his team are excused from the room. The real meeting begins. The screen changes. The title is no longer "Project Values"; it is "Asset Protection Strategy – RF." The CFO, a man with a reputation for ruthless efficiency, takes the floor. "As discussed," he begins, "the 'exit' is a temporary de-risking maneuver. We will be executing a management buyout. The 'purchaser' of our entire Russian operation—the Volgograd plant, the St. Petersburg distribution hub, everything—will be its current director, Viktor Orlov." He pauses. "The sale price will be a symbolic one euro."
The company's General Counsel, a severe-looking woman, cuts in. "And the most critical component," she says, her voice sharp, "is the Buy-Back Clause. The contract has been drafted by our team in Zurich. It gives us the unilateral, legally enforceable option to re-acquire one hundred percent of 'Verbund-Rus' at any point in the next ten years. The repurchase price is fixed at one euro, plus a two-percent management fee to Mr. Orlov’s holding company for the intervening years. Viktor is one of our most loyal men; he understands completely. Legally, our assets are protected."
The Head of Supply Chain, a quiet, meticulous man, projects a new slide: "Continuity of Operations." "Our primary challenge," he explains, "is that the Volgograd plant cannot function without our patented chemical precursors. We will no longer ship these directly from Hamburg. The entire flow will now be rerouted. The components will be sold from our German entity to our Turkish subsidiary in Istanbul. From there, they will be sold again to a newly established trading house in Dubai, and from Dubai, they will be shipped to a third-party logistics firm operating out of Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, for final overland transport to Volgograd. Each step is a clean, arms-length transaction."
"And payment?" the CFO asks.
"Orlov's new entity will settle its invoices with the Bishkek firm via a bank in the UAE," the supply chain head replies. "It’s a longer chain, more expensive, but the increased cost is still far outweighed by the profit margins on the end product. And it is entirely clean. There is no direct link back to us."
The CEO stands, walking to the vast window overlooking the city lights. He is silent for a full minute. "We get the ESG plaudits. We stop the protests. Our name is off the Yale list," he says, almost to himself. "The physical assets are protected by a loyal proxy. Market share is preserved. And we open a new, deniable, and highly profitable supply line." He turns back to the room. "We are all agreed," he says, his voice now filled with the gravitas for which he is famous. "Our conscience is clear. We must stand with Ukraine."
83.1 The Great Exodus that Never Was
In the months following Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the world witnessed a seemingly unprecedented wave of corporate activism. A parade of press releases from Western multinational corporations announced their "orderly and responsible exit" from the Russian market. This narrative of a mass corporate exodus, a unified and principled stand by global business against aggression, was a powerful and reassuring tool of public relations. It was also, in large part, a fiction. Forensic audits of corporate activity, conducted by institutions like the Kyiv School of Economics (KSE) and the Yale School of Management, reveal a far grayer and more cynical reality. By the start of 2024, more than half of the nearly 1,400 multinational firms with subsidiaries in Russia prior to the invasion were still conducting some form of business there. See [citation 1], [citation 4]. These companies had engaged in a sophisticated charade, an exercise in "reputation management" designed to preserve assets and future profits while feigning a moral stance for their Western customers and investors.
83.2 The Playbook: "Sham Exits" and Plausible Deniability
For many of the companies that did claim to leave, the exit was a carefully constructed legal fiction, a corporate sleight of hand designed for maximum reputational benefit and minimum financial pain. The most common tactic has been the "management buy-out with buy-back option." In this model, the Western parent company "sells" its valuable Russian subsidiary—factories, distribution networks, intellectual property—to its local Russian management for a nominal fee, sometimes a single ruble or euro. See [citation 2]. This sale generates the positive headline that the company has "left Russia." Critically, however, this sale is accompanied by a secret, legally binding clause, often registered in a neutral third-party jurisdiction, that gives the original parent company the right to repurchase its assets for a similarly trivial price within a set period, often five to ten years. This strategy represents a form of "malicious compliance," adhering to the technical letter of sanctions or public pressure while systematically violating its spirit.
83.3 The Enablers: An Ecosystem of Professional Complicity
This charade is not executed in a vacuum. It is made possible by a high-priced ecosystem of enablers within the Western professional services industry. Elite international law firms deploy their top minds to find loopholes in sanctions legislation and to draft the labyrinthine buy-back contracts. Major accounting and consulting firms advise on how to structure these sham exits to remain technically compliant while ensuring balance sheets are protected. This professional class, operating under the cover of client privilege and complex legal jargon, provides the intellectual architecture for moral failure. Academic research into corporate responses to sanctions has long noted the pivotal role of these legal and financial intermediaries in facilitating continued market access, often transforming a clear moral and political imperative into a mere problem of legal engineering to be solved. See [citation 3].
83.4 Direct Complicity: The "Stay and Pay" Doctrine
An even more significant group of companies has engaged in no subterfuge at all, choosing simply to remain in Russia, absorb the initial reputational damage, and continue with business as usual. While often justifying their continued presence with humanitarian arguments—claiming they are providing "essential goods" to ordinary Russians—these companies have become a critical, direct financial pillar of the Kremlin's war machine. Their complicity is not indirect; it is a matter of public record and basic accounting. A 2023 analysis showed that the foreign companies that remained in Russia generated over $300 billion in revenue and contributed an estimated $3.5 billion in profit taxes directly to the Russian state budget in 2022 alone. See [citation 5]. This tax revenue is not an abstract number; it is the fungible cash that pays for the Kalibr cruise missiles that hit Ukrainian cities, the salaries of the soldiers who commit atrocities in occupied territories, and the production of the tanks that grind across the Ukrainian plains.
83.5 A Failure of Imagination: Shareholder Primacy vs. Moral Duty
The collective behavior of these corporations represents a catastrophic failure of moral and financial imagination, driven by a deeply ingrained business ideology. For decades, the dominant corporate doctrine in the West has been the theory of shareholder primacy, famously articulated by Milton Friedman, which holds that the sole social responsibility of a business is to increase its profits for its shareholders. See [citation 6]. This ideology effectively absolves corporate executives of any broader duty to international law, human rights, or global security, reframing all decisions through the narrow lens of fiduciary duty. By refusing to take a genuine, significant financial loss—the very definition of a meaningful sacrifice—the executives in these boardrooms made a cold, dispassionate calculation: that the long-term profit potential of the Russian market outweighed the reputational risk of staying. They unequivocally placed their legal duty to their shareholders above any perceived moral duty to the victims of the war they are indirectly funding.