The shadow merchants of war: Private arms traders and the exploitation of Ukraine
By Matthew Parish
Thursday 29 October 2026
There is a particularly unpleasant category of individual who flourishes in wartime. He is neither a soldier nor a humanitarian volunteer, neither a diplomat nor a representative of a legitimate defence manufacturer. He is the private arms broker, the intermediary who claims to have access to quantities of weapons and ammunition, who offers to arrange their delivery to a country fighting for its survival and who expects to make a handsome profit from the desperation of the people to whom he proposes to sell them. His business is conducted in the shadows of international commerce, amidst obscure companies, improbable personal contacts and promises that are frequently difficult to verify.
Ukraine, fighting a war against a vastly larger aggressor since February 2022, has inevitably attracted such people. Some are apparently respectable businessmen, dressed in expensive suits and carrying business cards describing their positions as international security consultants. Others are former soldiers, adventurers or individuals with vaguely defined connections to intelligence services, international logistics companies or government officials in distant countries. What unites the more questionable members of this fraternity is their willingness to turn the emergency requirements of a nation at war into a commercial opportunity while attempting to evade the institutional safeguards that ordinarily regulate the international trade in instruments of death.
It is important from the outset to distinguish legitimate commercial activity from the phenomenon we are describing. Ukraine desperately needs weapons and ammunition, and her defence depends upon a combination of government assistance, private industrial production and commercially negotiated procurement contracts. There is nothing inherently improper about private companies manufacturing weapons for Ukraine or licensed intermediaries facilitating transactions authorised by the relevant governments. Indeed, much of Ukraine’s extraordinary innovation in drone warfare has been made possible by private enterprise operating in cooperation with the Ukrainian Armed Forces.
The objection arises when individuals seek to operate outside accountable procurement arrangements, promising weapons to private purchasers, volunteers or military contacts without establishing the necessary legal authorisations, credible sources of supply or reliable arrangements for delivery. Such activity may range from foolish commercial adventurism to fraud, sanctions violations or outright arms trafficking. In every case the fundamental question is the same: why should a nation fighting for its existence entrust the acquisition of lethal military equipment to someone who cannot demonstrate the legitimacy of his role?
The economics of desperation
War creates extraordinary distortions in markets. The price of an ordinary commodity reflects the relationship between supply and demand, with buyers generally possessing some freedom to negotiate, substitute alternatives or delay their purchases. Weapons in a major war are different because the consequences of non-delivery are not merely financial. An artillery unit without shells may be unable to defend its positions, an infantry formation without ammunition may suffer catastrophic losses and a delayed delivery of air defence equipment may leave civilians exposed to Russian missiles.
The unscrupulous arms broker understands this imbalance. He recognises that the buyer may have little time to investigate his credentials, that the scarcity of particular weapons permits extraordinary prices and that national security restrictions provide a convenient excuse for withholding information. He may insist that the identity of his supplier is confidential, that the paperwork cannot be produced until a substantial deposit has been paid or that the entire transaction must be completed urgently because another purchaser is waiting.
These are classic features of transactions in which the buyer bears disproportionately greater risk than the seller. They are particularly dangerous when combined with the emotional pressure of supporting Ukraine, because people who might ordinarily exercise considerable financial prudence may suspend their scepticism when told that a Ukrainian brigade urgently needs a shipment of ammunition. Patriotism, humanitarian sympathy and the desire to save lives become instruments of commercial persuasion.
The resulting market may contain several layers of intermediaries, none of whom necessarily owns the weapons being offered. One businessman claims to know a supplier, another claims to have access to export authorisations and a third claims to enjoy the confidence of a Ukrainian military commander. Each expects a commission, yet none may be capable of ensuring that a single weapon reaches the intended recipient. The more complicated the chain becomes, the more difficult it is to determine who is legally responsible when the promised merchandise fails to arrive.
These dangers are not merely theoretical. Investigations into Ukraine’s wartime procurement have documented enormous sums paid in advance for weapons that were not delivered as promised, with disputes subsequently becoming entangled in international arbitration and litigation. A Financial Times investigation published in May 2025 reported approximately US$770 million in advance payments associated with foreign arms contracts involving undelivered, incomplete or unusable supplies. These cases concerned transactions involving Ukrainian state procurement and demonstrate that even formal government channels can be vulnerable to unreliable intermediaries.
They also illustrate an important distinction between contractual failure and criminal dishonesty. Not every undelivered shipment establishes fraud, because war disrupts transportation, export permissions, supply chains and manufacturing schedules. Nevertheless, the scale of the problem reveals the opportunities available to those who promise more than they can deliver. If the government itself can experience such difficulties despite possessing professional procurement officials and legal advisers, the potential vulnerability of private volunteers or individual military units dealing with unverified brokers is greater still.
The dangers of circumventing the Ukrainian state
The most troubling aspect of private arms dealing in wartime Ukraine is the attempt to establish alternative channels of military procurement outside effective government supervision. This is not merely a matter of bureaucratic propriety. A sovereign state must know what weapons are entering its territory, who is acquiring them, where they are being delivered and which persons or military formations will ultimately possess them. These requirements are indispensable to military discipline, national security and the prevention of criminal violence.
Ukraine has spent several years attempting to modernise her defence procurement institutions. Since 1 January 2026, procurement under the Ministry of Defence has been centralised through the Defence Procurement Agency, which is intended to provide a coherent framework for identifying military requirements, verifying suppliers and supervising contracts. The system incorporates competitive procurement, direct contracting and digital mechanisms through which authorised military units can select equipment appropriate to their needs.
This arrangement is not intended to exclude private enterprise. On the contrary, it provides an institutional framework through which manufacturers and commercial suppliers can offer their products to Ukraine while remaining subject to appropriate scrutiny. Nor does it mean that every lawful military purchase or charitable donation must follow an identical procedure. What matters is that the relevant transaction possesses the necessary legal authority and that the weapons ultimately enter an accountable military or governmental chain of custody.
There is also the question of military necessity. Individual commanders understandably know what their units require, often with greater precision than procurement officials far from the front. Nevertheless, military requirements must be reconciled with wider operational priorities, logistical compatibility, training, maintenance and ammunition availability. A weapon acquired through an informal commercial arrangement may appear attractive to a particular unit while imposing burdens upon the Armed Forces as a whole.
Corruption beneath the language of patriotism
The language employed by questionable arms brokers frequently borrows from the vocabulary of humanitarian assistance. They insist that their objective is to help Ukraine, that their commercial arrangements are motivated by solidarity and that ordinary legal requirements are inappropriate in the circumstances of an existential war. Sometimes these statements may be sincere. Sincerity, however, is no substitute for evidence that a transaction is lawful, commercially credible and beneficial to the Ukrainian people.
The moral difficulty is that patriotism can become a form of commercial camouflage. A person who presents himself as a benefactor may in fact be seeking commissions that bear little relationship to the value of the services he provides. He may claim friendships with Ukrainian officers, government officials or representatives of foreign intelligence agencies, using these supposed connections to impress potential customers and discourage searching questions. The very sensitivity of military affairs can then be invoked to justify the absence of documentation.
Ukraine’s own experience demonstrates how damaging opacity can be. In August 2026, the Ukrainian Accounting Chamber published the results of an audit of weapons procurement and development covering primarily 2025. It identified regulatory non-compliance involving nearly 350 billion hryvnias and found serious weaknesses in procurement planning, advance payments, contract performance and protection of the state’s financial interests. This figure represented the value of transactions affected by identified non-compliance, not a finding that the entire amount had been stolen or lost.
Such findings are disturbing precisely because Ukraine cannot afford the luxury of waste. Every hryvnia diverted into an inflated commission, every shipment delayed by an incompetent intermediary and every procurement contract awarded without adequate investigation potentially diminishes the resources available to Ukrainian soldiers. Corruption in ordinary commercial life is reprehensible, but corruption in wartime defence procurement acquires an additional moral dimension because the consequences may be measured in human lives.
It would nevertheless be unjust to suggest that all arms traders are corrupt, just as it would be absurd to imagine that the exclusion of private intermediaries could eliminate corruption within government institutions. The correct distinction is between commercial participants who provide demonstrable value within an accountable legal framework and those who exploit opacity to extract profit without accepting responsibility. Private ownership is not the problem. Unaccountable power over the supply of lethal equipment is.
The international dimensions of the problem
The international arms trade has always occupied an uneasy position between legitimate commerce and the darker activities of governments, intelligence agencies and organised criminal groups. Weapons are unusual commodities because their value is inseparable from their capacity to inflict violence. The same rifle may serve the legitimate defence of a democratic state, become an instrument of criminal intimidation or find its way into the hands of a terrorist organisation. International regulations therefore seek not merely to control the commercial exchange of weapons but also to establish responsibility for their eventual use.
The Arms Trade Treaty embodies this principle by establishing standards intended to reduce irresponsible arms transfers and the diversion of conventional weapons. Its provisions address international transfers, brokering and the responsibilities of participating states to control relevant activities. Research published by the United Nations Institute for Disarmament Research in February 2025 emphasised both the legitimate role of professional arms brokers and the dangers posed by intermediaries facilitating transfers to unauthorised recipients.
The precise legal requirements vary according to the countries involved, the categories of weapons and the relevant national legislation. A commercially negotiated transaction is not necessarily illegal merely because the seller is privately owned, while a transaction involving state officials is not necessarily legitimate merely because those officials claim to possess governmental authority. The essential questions concern export permissions, import permissions, sanctions, ownership, authorised recipients and the arrangements governing delivery and subsequent control.
For Ukraine there is an additional consideration. Russia has every incentive to discover weaknesses in Ukrainian military supply chains, identify procurement personnel and acquire information about weapons deliveries. An opaque commercial network in which individuals exchange sensitive military information without reliable verification creates opportunities for deception, espionage and hostile interference. It would be irresponsible to suggest that every dubious arms broker is a Russian agent, but it would be equally irresponsible to ignore the intelligence risks created by unaccountable transactions.
These risks extend beyond Ukraine’s borders. An improperly documented weapons transfer can damage relations with allied governments, undermine public confidence in military assistance programmes and generate concern about the ultimate destination of weapons supplied by Ukraine’s international partners. Russia has repeatedly sought to exploit doubts about the integrity of Western military assistance to Ukraine, and every genuine procurement scandal provides additional material for such narratives.
It is therefore important to distinguish documented criminal activity from exaggerated allegations about Ukrainian arms trafficking. A United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime study published in July 2025 found relatively limited evidence of international trafficking of weapons out of Ukraine since the full-scale invasion, while identifying longer-term risks arising from the proliferation of weapons and ammunition. The study’s conclusions should not be confused with the separate problem of dubious private brokers attempting to sell weapons into Ukraine.
The temptation of the volunteer community
A further vulnerability arises from the extraordinary international volunteer community that has developed around Ukraine’s war effort. Since 2022, people from across the world have raised money, purchased equipment, driven vehicles, delivered medical supplies and assisted Ukrainian soldiers and civilians in innumerable ways. Their contribution has frequently been admirable, not least because many have undertaken substantial personal risks without any prospect of financial reward.
Yet the informal networks upon which volunteer organisations depend can also attract opportunists. A volunteer who successfully raises funds for medical supplies may suddenly be approached by somebody claiming access to ammunition, military drones or sophisticated weapons systems. The trader may propose that the volunteer use his contacts to identify a Ukrainian military purchaser, arrange financing or introduce wealthy donors who might be persuaded to support the transaction.
At this point the distinction between humanitarian assistance and arms procurement becomes critically important. Purchasing medical equipment, winter clothing or ordinary vehicles does not present the same legal and security questions as purchasing military explosives or firearms. Even where charitable organisations can lawfully facilitate the acquisition of particular military or dual-use equipment, their activities must respect the applicable authorisations and the legitimate authority of the intended recipients.
An individual volunteer may possess impeccable humanitarian credentials while having virtually no expertise in international arms control. He may know Ukrainian soldiers personally and have visited the front on numerous occasions, but neither circumstance necessarily qualifies him to verify a foreign export licence, investigate the ultimate beneficial ownership of an arms trading company or establish whether a proposed shipment complies with international sanctions.
This is where the private arms trader’s activities become particularly insidious. He may exploit the volunteer’s credibility to secure introductions and funds, while the volunteer mistakenly assumes that the trader’s apparent familiarity with military affairs establishes his legitimacy. The reputational consequences may subsequently fall upon the volunteer organisation rather than the businessman who initiated the transaction.
There is a moral obligation upon those who participate in Ukraine’s international support networks to recognise the limits of their competence. Supporting soldiers does not require adopting every commercial proposal presented in the language of military necessity. Sometimes the most valuable assistance a volunteer can provide is to decline involvement in a questionable transaction and direct the proposed supplier towards an authorised procurement institution.
The curious psychology of the arms broker
There is something psychologically distinctive about the private individual who seeks to profit from the supply of weapons to a country where civilians are being killed and soldiers are dying in enormous numbers. He may sincerely believe that he is performing an essential service, and sometimes he may indeed facilitate the delivery of equipment that would otherwise be difficult to obtain. Nevertheless, the relationship between his financial incentives and the suffering of others deserves examination.
In ordinary commercial markets, a businessman prospers by identifying demand and supplying goods or services efficiently. In the questionable end of the arms market, the most profitable opportunities may arise from desperation, scarcity and a buyer’s inability to exercise ordinary commercial judgement. The worse the war becomes, the greater the demand for weapons, and the more valuable the broker’s alleged connections may appear.
There is an obvious moral tension here. The businessman claims to wish for Ukraine’s victory, yet the commercial conditions that favour his activities may depend upon the continuation of the conflict. This does not establish that he desires the war to continue, but it creates a conflict between the humanitarian purpose he professes and the economic incentives under which he operates.
The problem becomes more acute where the broker has no manufacturing capacity, no stock of weapons and no demonstrable contribution to their transportation or technical support. His principal asset may be the relationships he claims to possess, and his profit may derive from controlling access to information rather than producing anything of value. Such arrangements can amount to little more than the monetisation of personal influence.
We should be particularly sceptical of individuals who describe themselves in grandiose terms while remaining evasive about the basic details of their commercial activities. Titles such as international defence adviser, strategic procurement consultant or military logistics facilitator may describe genuine professions, but they can also be adopted without any meaningful qualification. A business card is not an export licence, a photograph with a senior military officer is not a procurement authorisation and an impressive acquaintance is not evidence of an available weapons stockpile.
What responsible oversight should entail
The answer to these problems cannot be the elimination of private commercial involvement in Ukraine’s defence. That would be both impractical and counterproductive. Ukraine’s military requirements are too substantial, its technological innovation too dynamic and the international arms market too complex for the state to manufacture or acquire everything without private sector participation.
Instead, the appropriate objective is to ensure that private enterprise operates within an accountable system in which the identities of suppliers, their legal authorisations and their contractual responsibilities can be verified. Where confidentiality is necessary for national security, scrutiny must be conducted through appropriately cleared officials rather than abandoned altogether. Commercial secrecy should never become a convenient justification for the absence of accountability.
The development of Ukraine’s digital procurement infrastructure is a constructive step in this direction. Systems such as DOT-Chain Defence allow authorised military units to identify equipment appropriate to their requirements while retaining institutional responsibility for contracting and payment. Such arrangements recognise that battlefield requirements must be communicated quickly without surrendering the safeguards associated with public expenditure and military command.
International governments also bear responsibility. States that permit private companies to export military equipment must ensure that their licensing, monitoring and enforcement arrangements remain effective even when the destination is a country whose defence they strongly support. Sympathy for Ukraine’s legitimate struggle against Russian aggression cannot justify permitting irresponsible or unlicensed weapons transfers.
Nor should journalists allow themselves to become informal intermediaries in this trade. Reporting on the supply of weapons is a legitimate and important journalistic activity, but introducing purchasers to sellers, soliciting investors in arms transactions or facilitating the movement of military equipment would compromise the independence required to scrutinise the participants. The proper role of the press is to investigate claims, establish facts and expose wrongdoing where there is sufficient evidence to justify doing so.
This distinction is particularly important in the Ukrainian context, where journalists may develop extensive personal relationships with soldiers, volunteers, aid organisations and government officials. Such relationships provide valuable opportunities to understand the realities of the war, but they should not be transformed into commercial assets for private individuals seeking military procurement contracts. A journalist who becomes an arms broker can no longer credibly claim to be an independent observer of the trade.
A question of national sovereignty
Ultimately, the issue is not principally about the moral character of people who earn their living selling weapons. It is about the authority of the Ukrainian state over the means by which its Armed Forces defend the country. A nation at war must retain control over its military procurement, its weapons inventories and the conditions under which foreign commercial interests participate in its national defence.
The temptation to circumvent institutional arrangements is understandable when the country is under attack. Soldiers require equipment immediately, procurement officials may be overwhelmed and volunteers are naturally impatient with procedures that appear to obstruct the delivery of urgently needed supplies. Yet institutions exist precisely because individual good intentions cannot provide an adequate substitute for legal responsibility.
A state that permits its military requirements to become the subject of unregulated personal transactions risks surrendering part of its sovereignty to people whose interests may have little in common with those of the nation. It may also create a class of commercial intermediaries who acquire influence over military officers, charitable organisations and foreign donors without accepting any corresponding public accountability. Such arrangements are inimical to the democratic principles for which Ukraine is fighting.
There is an additional historical irony. Ukraine’s struggle against Russian aggression is, at its heart, a struggle to establish the sovereignty of the Ukrainian people over their own territory, political institutions and national future. The emergence of private networks seeking to profit from the country’s military vulnerability without proper governmental supervision represents a smaller but nevertheless troubling challenge to that same principle of sovereignty.
The international community should therefore encourage Ukraine to acquire all the weapons it legitimately needs, from every lawful and reliable source capable of supplying them. It should support Ukrainian manufacturers, encourage responsible private investment in defence technologies and facilitate efficient procurement through transparent and properly supervised institutions. But equally, it should regard with considerable suspicion those individuals who seek to exploit the war by offering weapons through channels that cannot withstand elementary scrutiny.
War inevitably creates profiteers, just as it creates heroes, opportunists and people of extraordinary generosity. Ukraine has witnessed all these categories since the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion, and it would be naive to suppose that a country exposed to such overwhelming violence could somehow remain immune from the darker aspects of human commercial behaviour.
The task is not to condemn commerce but to distinguish commerce that contributes to Ukraine’s survival from commerce that parasitically feeds upon her suffering. Those who manufacture and deliver reliable equipment through legitimate channels may make an honourable contribution to Ukraine’s defence, even while earning a commercial profit. Those who offer dubious weapons through unaccountable personal networks, exploiting the desperation of soldiers and volunteers, deserve the closest possible scrutiny.
Ukraine does not need self-appointed merchants of war cultivating private networks of influence over her military requirements. She needs reliable weapons, delivered promptly, legally and at defensible prices, under the authority of the institutions responsible for its national defence. The distinction is fundamental because the ultimate purpose of military procurement is not to enrich those who trade in the instruments of warfare, but to preserve the lives and liberty of the people who must endure it.
And in a country where every delayed shipment may have consequences on the battlefield, the distinction between a genuine supplier and an opportunistic intermediary is not merely a matter of commercial ethics. It is a question of life and death.
