The Blazing Theater of the Puppet Masters: How They are Trying to Save Putin's Face

A recent example is an air strike in Zelenograd, at a plant that is part of the Elma Group, managed by private and corporate investors.

This is no longer just a "hello" to oilmen; it is a direct blow to the scientific and technical interests of Mikhail Kovalchuk himself, the chief consigliere of the Putin regime on matters of "unparalleled" science.

When drones start turning off the lights in the cradle of Russian microelectronics, the oil-industry Puppet Masters completely begin to lose their nerve. And although they aren't rushing to storm the Kremlin with pitchforks, their quiet internal shriek is perfectly transmitted through indirect but highly telling signs.

First, the international information field detonated instantly. As soon as the oil magnates felt the heat, articles about the "EU's terrible fatigue with Zelensky" poured out of top Western media outlets as if on cue, while Yulia Mendel's interview with the odious Tucker Carlson was sent wandering through the American media space. The goal of this choir is obvious—to convince the Western public that "all is lost" and to stop Ukrainian drones at all costs using the hands of Europeans and Americans themselves.

Second, they began to gently but persistently rock Putin from inside his own terrarium. When Academician Robert Nigmatulin openly declares that the Russian economy is confidently marching toward degradation and that the standard of living for the majority of the population is a path into poverty, this is not just a "scientific discussion." This is a leak of the real state of affairs, sanctioned by the Puppet Masters.

Meanwhile, on the right flank, the public is being conditioned by professional Z-skinners like Ilya Remeslo, while from the left, the glamorous Victoria Bonya suddenly finds her voice. When a Monaco-based socialite publicly begins to "open Putin's eyes" to poverty and the problems of ordinary people, it means the oligarchs are activating the most unexpected channels of influence to show the leader: your "stability" rests on our money, which is currently going up in smoke.

The Kremlin got the hint and responded in its usual repertoire. Putin urgently gathered a stern meeting of industrialists and entrepreneurs (RSPP), where instead of air defense, he promised them the right to... buy machine guns with their own money to protect their pipelines, while simultaneously demanding absolute loyalty. Dmitry Peskov, as if following an anti-crisis management textbook, rushed to publicly appease Bonya, demonstrating that the Kremlin hears the "voice of the people."

However, the real response comes from the aging Chekists in uniform. Since they are incapable of protecting the refineries, they routinely tighten digital screws—subjugating the remaining independence of Telegram and the internet, while escalating bloody terror against the civilian population of Ukraine. They continue to threaten the world with nuclear "Sarmats" and an offensive against Ukraine from the territory of Belarus. This is a classic compensation for military impotence in the rear.

The funniest part is that at this very moment, "peace-dove" bloggers are throwing tantrums on social media, suddenly singing the same old song: "We need to negotiate urgently, we must understand the rapist, otherwise the Russian Federation will kill all Ukrainians." The educated public in Ukraine is used to the old canon: "the Russian liberal-intellectual is an ally against Putin." But this canon is obsolete. Today, these people (often unconsciously, but following talking points beneficial to the magnates) use their "intellectuality" as an anesthesia. They say, "We are for humanism," "Human life is the highest value." But the subtext is different: "Surrender now so that our factories in the Russian Federation stop burning."

To an educated Ukrainian wearing rose-colored glasses, this sounds like a moral dilemma, but in reality, it is just a marketing ploy by the Puppet Masters, wrapped in a philosophical package. In fact, these characters are running the oilmen's cheap talking points, trying under the guise of humanism to save Putin's face and, most importantly, preserve the distillation columns, which are impossible to source anywhere else in a market blocked by sanctions.

Where is this parade of panic and simulated control leading? Old man Zyuganov is already routinely scaring the Kremlin with a new 1917, but the reality will be much more prosaic and without red flags. Russian oligarchs are far too cowardly for a classic coup, but they are masters of quiet, creeping sabotage. Moreover, Putin himself has been looking, to put it mildly, poorly lately—like a wax mannequin reheated in a microwave.

Instead of a snuffbox to the temple, the Puppet Masters are highly likely to start spinning a "transit due to health reasons" scenario. They will try to quietly push the fading dictator into retirement, sliding a conventional "systemic technocrat" in his place, who will approach the West with a white flag and a proposal: "We withdraw our troops, and you return our factories and accounts."

However, until this elite consensus fully matures, they will continue by inertia to rock Ukraine with information waves about "capitulation under the guise of peace." It seems to them that breaking our unity and forcing us to stop the drones is much easier than explaining to their own bunker-dwelling old man that his empire is already braking with a screech on the very edge of the historical abyss.

— Global Brent crude prices are breaking records, hitting $105–$109 per barrel due to the Middle East crisis. Russia's Puppet Masters should be ecstatic with billions in extra revenue flowing. Is everything really that perfect for them?

"This is a classic paradox that has actually become a source of sheer panic for Russian magnates," comments Timur Temirov, PhD in Economics, for Hromada. "The thing is, these people are kings of refining, not just extraction. The real money is made on gasoline, jet fuel, and diesel. But Ukrainian drones are hitting the refineries. As a result, magnates are forced to export raw crude with massive 'war discounts' to China and India. So while global oil is expensive, a specific Russian oligarch gets only crumbs from this pie.

Moreover, they don't even get to hold these windfall profits. At the March RSPP meeting, Putin made it clear: the budget deficit is skyrocketing, so this entire 'oil rain' is immediately redirected into Putin's military black hole. And let's not forget: the more expensive the oil, the more painful each new strike becomes. Russia has already lost hundreds of thousands of barrels in daily refining capacity, and the recent sixteenth strike on the Ryazan refinery proves this perfectly."

— Then how do you explain such a frantic intensification of Russian information attacks in the West and demands for 'peace now' right here in May 2026?

"The connection is direct. Expensive oil is their ultimate historical chance to lock in profits and save their skins. They understand perfectly well: if now, at the peak of global prices, they can use paid articles in Western media, Mendel's interviews, or Bonya's tantrums to force Ukraine into a 'freeze'—the oligarchs will instantly become fabulously rich. Drones will stop flying, factories will be secured, and a $100+ price tag will allow them to recoup all losses within a year. This is their window of opportunity. The oil barons believe that the West, facing expensive gasoline at its own pumps, will crawl to negotiate and force Kyiv to stop. Therefore, behind the scenes of this 'peacekeeping' choir stands pure, naked oligarchic calculation."