Elon Musk was no stranger to headlines. He built rockets, launched electric cars, and made wild bets on brain chips and social media. But in 2022, as war exploded between Russia and Ukraine, Musk found himself in the middle of something darker—a game of secrets, power, and international intrigue that seemed pulled from the pages of a thriller.
When Russian troops stormed into Ukraine, one of their first moves was to knock out the country’s internet and phone lines. Communication collapsed. Ukraine’s leaders, desperate for help, reached out to Musk. They needed Starlink, his satellite internet service, to get the country back online.
Musk answered. Within days, Starlink terminals arrived in Ukraine. Suddenly, the Ukrainian army, hospitals, and even ordinary families could talk to each other again. The world called Musk a hero. His satellites helped keep Ukraine’s military moving and its people connected (NYT, 2022).
But acts of heroism come with a price. As the war dragged on, Musk started to worry about the cost. SpaceX, his company, had donated about 20,000 Starlink terminals, but keeping the service running was expensive. Musk wrote on social media that he couldn’t fund it “indefinitely.” He asked the U.S. government to help pay the bill. The Pentagon eventually agreed, but the back-and-forth made Ukraine nervous. Would Musk pull the plug just when they needed him most? (WaPo, 2022)
Things got even more complicated in September 2023. Ukraine’s military wanted to use Starlink to launch a surprise attack on Russian forces in Crimea, a region Russia had taken by force years earlier. But Musk refused to extend Starlink’s coverage to Crimea. He worried that if Ukraine struck too hard, Russia might use nuclear weapons. “If I had agreed to their request, then SpaceX would be explicitly complicit in a major act of war and conflict escalation,” Musk said (NYT, 2024).
That decision sent shockwaves through Ukraine and Washington. Suddenly, one billionaire’s choice could change the course of a war. Was Musk protecting lives—or playing politics?
While Musk was making these high-stakes decisions, Russian intelligence was watching. According to former FBI counterintelligence agent Jonathan Buma, Russian spies saw Musk’s wild lifestyle—his parties, his rumored drug use—as a weakness. They called it “kompromat,” a Russian word for gathering compromising material to use as blackmail.
Buma told a German documentary that Russian agents were “actively seeking compromising information” on Musk, targeting his “known indulgences in sex and drugs—specifically ketamine—and a lavish party scene.” Buma claimed that the operation had approval from Vladimir Putin himself: “The agents would not have gotten involved in the blackmail plot had the Russian president not known about the action and approved it” (ZDF, 2024).
Musk wasn’t alone. Peter Thiel, another tech billionaire, was also targeted. Russian spies wanted leverage over people who controlled technology that could change the outcome of the war.
Russia didn’t just use spies. They fought back against Starlink with technology. Russian military units started using electronic warfare systems, like “Tobol,” to jam Starlink signals in eastern Ukraine. They even developed a new system, “Kalinka,” which they called the “Starlink killer,” to disrupt Ukrainian drones and military communications (NYT, 2024).
The battlefield was changing. It wasn’t just tanks and missiles anymore. It was satellites, hacking, and information warfare. Musk’s technology was now a weapon—and a target.
In the middle of all this, Musk bought Twitter and renamed it X. He wanted to make it the “everything app”—a place for messaging, payments, and sharing news. But critics said Musk was using X to shape the world’s view of the war. Some claimed he was suppressing Ukrainian voices and allowing Russian propaganda to spread. The U.S. Justice Department even found Russian “bot farms”—fake accounts powered by artificial intelligence—using X to spread disinformation about the war (Justice Dept., 2024).
Musk’s control over X gave him enormous influence. He could decide what news people saw, what voices were amplified, and what stories were buried. In the age of social media, that kind of power could sway public opinion—or even elections.
There were also questions about money. A U.S. trust called Heritage Trust, linked to Russian billionaire Suleiman Kerimov, once owned a 1% stake in SpaceX, worth billions. The trust reportedly sold its shares before U.S. sanctions hit, but the connection raised eyebrows (NYT, 2024).
Another big investor in Musk’s world was Vy Capital, a Dubai-based firm with Russian roots. Vy Capital helped bankroll Musk’s Twitter takeover, and its founder once worked with Russian-Israeli billionaire Yuri Milner. These financial ties made people wonder: Was Russian money helping Musk? And if so, what did they want in return?
This story isn’t just about Elon Musk. It’s about how much power one person—or one company—can have in today’s world. Musk could help a country at war, or hurt it, just by flipping a switch. He could shape what billions of people see online. And if spies could find his secrets, they might use them to make him act in ways he never intended.
The line between business and politics was blurring. Billionaires who controlled technology weren’t just rich—they were powerful. And in a world where secrets could be stolen and used as weapons, everyone was vulnerable.
Musk and the Russian government haven’t said much about these rumors. Some of the claims, especially from Buma, are hard to prove. But the questions remain: Should one person have this much power? How do we protect critical technology from foreign influence? And what happens when the world’s most important secrets are just a click away?
As the war in Ukraine continues, and as technology becomes even more important, these questions will only get bigger. In the shadows, the spies are still watching. And somewhere, Elon Musk is making decisions that could change the world.
Citations:
No posts
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.