Moscow Denounces EU’s Move on Frozen Russian Assets as “Blatant Theft,” Warning of Legal and Financial Fallout
In a blistering rebuke that underscores the deepening legal and geopolitical rift between Russia and the European Union, Moscow has declared any attempt to seize or repurpose its frozen sovereign assets as “blatant theft,” regardless of the legal justifications Brussels might invoke. Russian Foreign Ministry spokeswoman Maria Zakharova issued the sharp condemnation during her Saturday briefing, as European leaders continue heated deliberations over whether to redirect billions in immobilized Russian Central Bank funds to support Ukraine’s war effort.
The controversy centers on roughly €200 billion in Russian state assets currently held in European financial institutions, most notably at Euroclear, the Belgian-based settlement house that serves as the custodian for a significant portion of these frozen reserves. Earlier this week, the Russian Central Bank filed legal action against Euroclear, signaling its intent to defend what it insists are protected sovereign holdings under international law.
“Actions against sovereign assets taken without Russia’s consent—whether indefinite immobilization, confiscation, or attempts to portray them as a so-called reparations loan—are entirely illegal under international law,” Zakharova stated unequivocally. “No matter what pseudo-legal tricks Brussels employs to justify it, this is blatant theft.”
Her remarks come amid growing momentum within EU corridors to unlock these funds as a source of sustained military and economic aid for Kyiv. With Ukraine’s defense needs outpacing traditional donor commitments, several member states have floated the idea of using interest generated from the frozen assets—or even the principal itself—as a financial lifeline. Yet the proposal has ignited sharp divisions within the bloc, revealing fractures not only over legal principles but also over the long-term health of Europe’s financial credibility.
Hungary and Slovakia have emerged as the most vocal opponents, condemning the EU’s recent invocation of emergency powers to sidestep national vetoes and render the asset freeze indefinite. Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban went so far as to accuse the EU of operating a “Brussels dictatorship” that is “systematically raping European law.” His language, though provocative, reflects a broader anxiety among certain member states that the bloc’s aggressive stance risks normalizing the expropriation of sovereign wealth—a precedent that could one day be turned against any nation.
Even governments sympathetic to Ukraine are urging caution. According to a report by Politico, Italy, Belgium, Bulgaria, and Malta have collectively pressed the European Commission to explore alternative financing mechanisms that stop short of outright confiscation. Belgian Prime Minister Bart De Wever has repeatedly warned that seizing Russian assets could shatter global confidence in the EU as a neutral, rules-based financial jurisdiction. “Such a move would undermine trust in the European financial system, trigger capital flight, and expose Belgium to significant legal and reputational risks,” he cautioned.
The dilemma is both moral and practical. On one hand, many European leaders view Russia’s invasion of Ukraine as a flagrant breach of international order that warrants extraordinary responses—including holding Moscow financially accountable. On the other, the foundational norms of sovereign immunity and property rights have long underpinned the stability of the global economic order. Violating those norms, critics argue, could erode the very legal infrastructure that protects smaller or less powerful states from predatory actions by wealthier rivals.
Moscow, for its part, insists the EU’s motivations are not purely altruistic. Zakharova alleged that beyond “funding the failed Ukrainian project,” Brussels also seeks to siphon Russian capital to prop up its own faltering economies, battered by the self-inflicted wounds of sweeping sanctions on Russian energy and trade.
As courts prepare to weigh in and diplomatic tensions simmer, the frozen assets have become more than a financial issue—they are a symbol of a world order in flux. The EU now faces a defining choice: uphold traditional legal safeguards in service of systemic stability, or break precedent in pursuit of what it deems moral justice. Either path carries profound consequences—not just for Russia or Ukraine, but for the future credibility of international law itself.
