A pressing issue in European politics over the past decade has been the increasing activity of radical parties and their connections with Russia. Regardless of the national context in which they operate, certain patterns stand out: these parties often serve as “platforms” for Moscow, facilitating direct or indirect attempts to use financial instruments and media channels to advance Russian interests and strengthen political forces that propagate pro-Russian rhetoric. To be fair, these attempts have often been quite successful. The most illustrative examples can be found in France, Germany, and Italy.
The dubious history of Marine Le Pen’s French party, Rassemblement National (formerly the National Front), began in 2014, when it took out a loan of around €9 million from Russia’s First Czech-Russian Bank. A few years later, the bank went bankrupt, and the debt was transferred to Aviazapchast, another company linked to Russian entities. This episode highlighted the party’s direct financial ties to Moscow, which opponents of Rassemblement National frequently pointed out, emphasizing that the French far-right owed much of its existence to Russian capital.
In 2023, the party announced it had repaid the loan early. Formally, the matter was closed, yet the reputational mark remained. The early repayment allowed Le Pen to claim that her political movement had freed itself from “financial baggage.” However, the record shows that Moscow, by providing the funds, had secured a potent instrument of influence in France—one that was leveraged with varying degrees of success over nearly a decade.
An even more alarming case involved Germany’s Alternative for Germany (AfD). In 2024, German and European media reported possible payments to AfD deputies via the media platform Voice of Europe, which has links to pro-Russian networks. One implicated figure was MEP Peter Bystroń, suspected of receiving cash or cryptocurrency in exchange for promoting pro-Russian positions and participating in propaganda projects.
The investigation quickly escalated into a major scandal. Police conducted raids, and the European Parliament twice lifted Bystroń’s immunity to continue the inquiry. German media reported suspicions of corruption, money laundering, and tax violations. Essentially, the Kremlin appeared to be directly financing politicians willing to transmit its narratives in Germany and Brussels. Even if guilt is never legally confirmed, the process itself dealt a serious blow to AfD’s image, which was already known for its Moscow-friendly stance.
Another case dates back to 2019, when Italian journalists published an audio recording of a secret meeting held at Moscow’s Metropol Hotel. Attendees included associates of the Italian party Lega, notably Matteo Salvini’s advisor Gianluca Savoini. Discussions focused on a scheme for supplying Russian petroleum products at significant discounts via the state company Rosneft. If executed, the price difference could have amounted to tens of millions of dollars, with the “saved” funds intended to covertly finance Lega’s electoral campaigns. Essentially, the economic deal could have served as a hidden channel for political financing, strengthening the party domestically while bringing it closer to Moscow.
The scandal generated enormous public attention, as Lega was part of the ruling coalition and Salvini held posts as Deputy Prime Minister and Interior Minister. Journalists and opposition figures asked whether a party aspiring to national leadership could act in the interests of a foreign state. Although a Milan court closed the investigation in 2023, noting the deal never actually materialized, the recording itself was symbolic. Prosecutors highlighted that the parties’ actions clearly indicated an intent to organize illegal financial inflows for Lega.
Even an unexecuted scheme revealed Russia’s intention to intervene covertly in European politics through trade deals. Experts still cite this case as evidence that Moscow is willing to exploit energy resources not only for geopolitical leverage but as a direct instrument of political corruption within the EU.
In summary, the French loan, German media payments, and the Italian “oil scheme” may appear as separate stories, yet together they form a broader picture. Russia employs a variety of mechanisms—from formal loans to opaque trade deals and media platforms—to support political forces that oppose sanctions, weaken EU unity, and promote pro-Russian rhetoric.
The dangers of such connections are multilayered, affecting not just individual parties but the European political system as a whole. Moscow’s support nudges radical forces toward softer stances on Russia, undermining the EU’s foreign policy cohesion and its capacity to coordinate responses. Public trust also suffers: even minor rumors of “Russian money” erode party legitimacy and fuel broader skepticism toward democratic institutions. Each revealed or suspected incident sets a precedent, signaling to other actors that such schemes are feasible and that accountability is uncertain, creating fertile ground for repetition.
For years, Moscow has built an influence network in Europe, using radical parties as conduits for its policies. Sometimes this leads to real financial dependencies, sometimes to unrealized projects—but the result is consistent: public perception increasingly associates segments of the political spectrum with foreign interests.
For Europe, this is a systemic challenge. Countering it requires not only legal investigations and financial oversight but also political will. Russian interference is not a series of isolated incidents—it is a strategy that demands a strategic response.