Ukraine’s grain exports are not just trade statistics – they are the nerve center of national security and currency stability in a country at war, and a crucial component of global food security.
That is why the actions taken by Ukrainian law-enforcement bodies against Monaco-based entrepreneur Alekszej Fedoricsev and his private TIS terminals in the Odessa region have gone far beyond a routine dispute. The case illustrates how strategic logistics infrastructure can become an object of political control, and how criminal-law instruments may be repurposed into levers of pressure on business.
Recently, Ukrainian law-enforcement agencies once again froze Alekszej Fedoricsev’s assets – this time at the initiative of the National Police. Previously, charges had been brought by NABU, the National Anti-Corruption Bureau, yet the businessman managed to prove the investigative claims groundless before Ukraine’s High Anti-Corruption Court (HACC).
This “second round” of prosecution therefore looks like a blend of politics, corporate raiding and coercion.
To distinguish legitimate asset preservation from predatory asset grabbing, it is worth unpacking the case through four dimensions – China, the raiding component, the mechanics of dispossession, and the war factor – and comparing them against Ukrainian criminal-procedural standards, the practice of managing seized assets, and the expectations of European partners.
The China Factor and the Export Bottleneck
The grain-supply agreement between Ukraine and China became a stress test for the country’s port infrastructure – and a key politico-economic link in bilateral relations.
On 11 September, Ukraine’s Cabinet of Ministers confirmed a state guarantee for a loan granted to the State Food and Grain Corporation of Ukraine by the Export-Import Bank of China.
It is important to recognize that most Ukrainian terminals, both then and now, have been unable to provide the required trans-shipment capacity. TIS is a rare exception – a private world-class operator distinguished by scale, depth and process control.
When a systemic bottleneck coincides with the capability of one company to handle a critical share of export volumes, TIS inevitably ends up in the spotlight.
For politicians and security services, that combination represents both vulnerability and temptation: whoever controls the bottleneck gains leverage over exports and budget revenues.
Thus emerges the first hypothesis of motivation – to turn TIS into a “political target” in order to redistribute control, or at least impose conditions.
A “Commercial Hit”: The Old School of Eastern European Raiding
According to the defense, the initial pressure came from former partners and employees attempting to seize control of Fedoricsev’s key assets. The businessman reported this to the Ukrainian police. The scheme is a familiar one — and it is described in official court documents: financing of “operational support”, fabrication of “evidence”, the planting of loyal “witnesses” or documents, and informal payments to law-enforcement officers (the cited amount is USD 2.4 million) for opening a criminal case and providing “technical assistance” under falsified papers.
It is precisely this fusion of private interest and administrative resource that is typically referred to as corporate raiding in Eastern Europe.
For European readers, the key point is not “who is against whom,” but the conflict of interest itself: the same individuals claiming rights to the assets are also “helping” the investigators build the evidentiary base later used in court. This undermines the presumption of investigative integrity and drastically diminishes the evidential value of the case files.
“Asset Deprivation” as an End in Itself
What we see is a widespread Ukrainian practice of asset grabbing disguised as “anti-corruption enforcement.” The pattern is familiar: a case is opened with a loud public narrative and disproportionate alleged damage; then follows a broad freeze of assets — not for securing the claim, but for paralysing the business itself.
When ARMA (the Asset Recovery and Management Agency) enters the picture, the risk of conceptual substitution arises: an institution created to temporarily and neutrally manage seized property becomes, in practice, a gateway for transferring assets to “friendly” actors at “market” prices — where the market has been artificially restricted by administrative limits.
In a properly functioning legal system, strict filters of proportionality and appealability would kick in at this stage. But in Ukraine’s recent reality, the process appears to be tailored to the desired outcome: expanding the “corridor” for seizures and narrowing the space for appeals, turning the courts into a conveyor belt for provisional measures.
War as an Accelerator of Temptations
The full-scale war has made Ukraine’s budget deficit an existential issue — and any “additional source of revenue” a temptation. Mounting pressure on the anti-corruption vertical, visible political attacks on the autonomy of NABU and SAP, and the transfer of sensitive cases to courts with questionable reputations have all created a backdrop against which the renewed pursuit of Fedoricsev looks like a search for quick spoils.
When a tough court decision is “announced in advance” — an unthinkable situation in Western Europe, yet common in Ukraine — when the same assets are seized repeatedly on the same grounds, and debates about proportionality are replaced by “wartime necessity” rhetoric, legitimate questions arise: Where is the line between lawful asset preservation and predatory seizure? Who guarantees that an arrest is a bridge to trial, not a club for extortion through coercion?
From “Anti-Corruption Tracks” to the Pechersk Conveyor Belt
The first “anti-corruption track” lasted years. NABU and SAP initiated key procedural actions, accusing Fedoricsev of participating in a scheme to embezzle state-owned grain. Yet both the HACC and its appeals chamber repeatedly rejected the toughest motions. In August 2025, the HACC appeals chamber effectively vindicated the businessman’s position and denied NABU’s request to confiscate his property. Then the pendulum swung. The case was picked up by the National Police, and the venue shifted to the Pechersk Court — notorious for politically charged and high-profile rulings. A new series of precautionary measures began, focusing on the freezing of assets, including foreign holdings and corporate rights. What unfolded was a vivid illustration of institutional inconsistency — or rather, its absence. When identical facts migrate from one jurisdiction to another until a “desired” outcome is reached, it ceases to be justice and turns into manipulation by venue.9.
What This Means for the EU and Investors
The line between lawful confiscation and blackmail lies in the procedure. A transparent asset freeze must be based on a narrow, well-motivated case; a proportional link between the seized assets and the alleged harm; a clear connection between the property and the charges; and mandatory avenues for appeal and publication of procedural documents. When instead we see blanket seizures, efforts to remove appeal rights, leaks about “future” court decisions, and overlapping interests between private beneficiaries and law enforcement, this looks like pressure politics, not justice. For European regulators and banks, such practices are a red flag under KYC/AML standards. For IFIs — a signal of heightened risk premium. For private investors — a warning that the rules of the game do not protect capital once it intersects with strategic assets or political agendas. The story of Alekszej Fedoricsev and TIS is not about one businessman; it is about the architecture of trust. When the state uses criminal procedure as an instrument for redistributing control over critical logistics, it gains today but pays tomorrow — through higher capital costs, investment outflows, and sceptical partners. War does not abolish the rule of law; it makes it indispensable. The only genuinely European way out is to return to strict, verifiable procedures — where asset freezes are bridges to due process, not bargaining chips. Otherwise, Ukraine’s “grain geopolitics” will remain a cover for old habits, leaving the country hostage to its own temptations.
