4 April, 20:39
While students at Moscow State University sit through a lecture on the Third Rome and doze in the back rows, their lecturer Konstantin Malofeev — the man explaining to them "why Russians are at war" — is himself the living embodiment of the answer to that question.
But a different answer. Not ideological, not fantastical — vulgarly pragmatic.
The lecture, in fairness, is worth noting. The students described it as watching "a broadcast on REN TV": a declassified Masonic street plan of Washington, Hillary Clinton in a dress sourced from the Epstein files, sundry trash from the repertoire of Russian right-wing conspiracism. At the second session, Malofeev explained the difference between legal systems: "Until Epstein was convicted, everything he was doing was legal. In our system, it's the opposite." If it is the opposite, then the implication is that in Russia, even without a conviction, you are presumed to be acting illegally. A striking thought — which no one had time to fully process, since the girls in the next seats asked someone to watch their crackers and stepped out.
The climax was the Tajiks. While expounding on the federates of Emperor Heraclius, Malofeev sighed: "Imagine, how much better than our country! Here we have Tajiks, Uzbeks arriving and signing contracts. He serves two years, five years, and his family receives everything. But in our country they owe nothing." So that was where the lecture on the Third Rome was heading — to the conclusion that Tajiks are insufficiently obligated.
But this is all prologue. The real answer to "why are we at war" is not delivered from the podium. It is delivered by a biography.
From Raider to Patriot
Malofeev is not a historian. Not a theologian. Not an ideologue with burning eyes fixed on Imperial greatness. He is a comprador of a very specific profile: throughout his entire career, he has converted chaos, war, and state connections into cash. The cross on his chest and the quotations from Justinian — that is the public packaging. Inside, there is only appetite.
His career began with the investment fund Marshall Capital, which competitors and the press christened in simpler terms. The former CEO of Svyazinvest, Yevgeny Yurchenko, called Malofeev "Russia's great raider" — a label that survived every court challenge, though the judgment against the journalists amounted to a symbolic 25,000 rubles. At its peak, Marshall Capital managed $1.5 billion in assets, and in 2013 Malofeev sold his Rostelecom stake to a state subsidiary for 25 billion rubles. Shortly before that, in late 2012, his home and office were searched — the Interior Ministry had opened a criminal case over the alleged theft of more than $200 million from VTB Bank. The case quietly died. The money stayed with Malofeev.
This is a defining trait: scandals do not sink him, they feed him. The system is built so that the right connections — in law enforcement, in the Kremlin, in the security services — function as insurance. The premium is paid in loyalty, in public visibility, and in willingness to do things others prefer to leave undone.
Borodai, Girkin and the First Donbas Business in Blood
When Russia "softly" invaded Ukraine in 2014, among the first faces of the "DNR" were people from Malofeev's inner circle. His former consultant Alexander Borodai became the first "prime minister" of the puppet terrorist entity. The head of security at Marshall Capital, Igor Girkin — known as Strelkov — became its "defense minister." In intercepted communications, Girkin reports to Malofeev on repelled attacks. According to investigators, in the summer of 2014 alone, Malofeev's foundation shipped 576 tonnes of cargo to Russian-occupied Ukrainian territory.
This was not abstract support for the "Russian world." It was direct participation in the organization of armed aggression — with specific people, specific money, and specific logistics.
The Western response was, as usual, formal but painful. The United States and the European Union imposed personal sanctions in December 2014 for "financing separatist activity" and for ties to Borodai, Girkin, and the "DNR." Ukraine opened criminal proceedings in July of the same year on suspicion of creating illegal armed formations, and in November 2017 placed Malofeev on an international wanted list.
Twenty-seven European Union member states imposed sanctions. Then the United Kingdom, Switzerland, Australia, Japan. The assets of Marshall Capital began to dissolve: companies went bankrupt, accounts were frozen, losses over several years ran into hundreds of millions of rubles. But Malofeev did not disappear. He restructured.
Cryptocurrency, the FSB, and $450 Million
The WEX exchange affair is perhaps the most thoroughly documented episode of how Malofeev's business model operates in the sanctions era.
WEX emerged in 2017 as the successor to the notorious BTC-e — the largest Russian-language cryptocurrency exchange, shut down by the FBI. One of BTC-e's founders, Alexei Bilyuchenko, launched a new platform and began looking for a "roof" — operating in Russia without FSB or GRU cover was simply not possible. Malofeev became the patron. According to Bilyuchenko, they met at the Tsargrad office on Novinsky Boulevard, then in Dubai, and agreed to split profits evenly — a third each.
What followed is documented in testimony read into the record at Moscow's Meshchansky District Court. Malofeev, according to Bilyuchenko, offered him connections "in law enforcement, including the GRU and FSB" and his protection. In May 2018, 30,000 bitcoins and 700,000 litecoins — approximately $450 million at the time — left the exchange's known wallets. According to Bilyuchenko, he transferred the cryptocurrency to wallets provided by "Malofeev's team," and subsequently, under FSB pressure, to the "FSB Russia fund." A forensic audio examination conducted by a St. Petersburg laboratory concluded that the voice on recordings of a phone conversation — where the other party is addressed as "Lyosha" — belongs to Malofeev.
The exchange collapsed. Clients lost their money. Structures connected to Malofeev subsequently acquired the Singapore legal entity of WEX through a nominee owner — a former DNR fighter known by the call sign "Moryachok" — and attempted to recover 18 billion rubles from Bilyuchenko, branding him the thief. In 2025, Russia's Supreme Court overturned that ruling. The lawsuit fell apart. The clients' money was never returned.
It also emerged that WEX's assets attracted the attention of multiple agencies simultaneously: the FSB, GRU, and Interior Ministry. A certain retired police lieutenant colonel named Satyukov, after reviewing testimony about Malofeev's role, proposed to Bilyuchenko that he could "solve the problem" — for a $5 million advance in cryptocurrency. A court subsequently seized from Satyukov real estate, watches, cars, and bank accounts totaling 3.5 billion rubles. On their provenance — not a word.
European Media Networks Under Cover
When the U.S. Department of Justice charged Malofeev with sanctions violations, it emerged that he had constructed a scheme allowing his outlets to operate in Europe through intermediaries and shell companies. The U.S. Treasury described the totality of his structures as an "ecosystem of malign influence": media companies, construction projects, affiliated individuals spread across the globe.
In February 2023, former Fox News executive Jack Hannick was arrested in London for working directly for Malofeev on several television projects in violation of sanctions — specifically, for attempts to build pro-Russian media networks in Bulgaria and Greece. Malofeev responded in character: he declared the confiscation of his American assets — more than $5 million, the first precedent for transferring Russian funds to Ukraine — a "crime committed by a group of persons acting in concert."
Orthodoxy as Instrument
The Charitable Foundation of St. Basil the Great, an Orthodox grammar school, holy relics brought from Jerusalem, public professions of faith — all of this runs in parallel in Malofeev's biography alongside raiding, crypto schemes, financing of armed groups, and sanctions evasion. The press has long observed that his "Orthodox business" may serve as a vehicle for money laundering. External piety performs the same function here as the lectures on the Third Rome: it constructs an image of a man with a mission, not an interest.
Meanwhile, the business shows losses on paper, the sanctions formally remain in force, the international arrest warrant has not been lifted, and the money continues to move — through crypto wallets, through nominee owners, through affiliated fighters and friendly officers.
A Question Without Rhetoric
Malofeev never explained to the MGU students "why we are at war." But indirectly — very well. For people of his type, war is not a tragedy and not a mission. It is a market. A market where state connections are converted into assets, chaos into opportunities, and patriotic rhetoric into immunity from criminal prosecution.
Tsargrad preaches. Marshall Capital seizes. WEX launders. The "Donbas humanitarian aid" finances the war. All of this is one man, one business, one logic.
Simply wrapped in an Orthodox church banner.