Russia, a land renowned for its well-oiled bureaucratic machine and completely incorruptible border control

Kirill Viktorovich, a man of profound wisdom and limitless strategic acumen, had stumbled upon a revelation so shocking, so groundbreaking, that it nearly made the entire Russian security apparatus spit out their tea. The problem, he declared with great solemnity, lay not in the meticulousness of Russian intelligence but in the unfortunate fact that they simply had no way of knowing what was happening beyond the sacred borders of the Motherland. That intelligence work on radicalized foreign groups was hard, and—brace yourself—Russia had not yet mastered the mystical art of omniscience.

Indeed, Russia, a land renowned for its well-oiled bureaucratic machine and completely incorruptible border control, had somehow found itself infested with foreign undesirables. Where did they come from? Central Asia, of course! A region teeming with shadowy figures hell-bent on undermining the great and infallible Russian state. And what had the security services done? Well, they had tried. Oh, they had tried! But, alas, they had tragically discovered that they were not infinite beings with omnipotent control over all human movement. A shame, truly.

But fear not, for Kabanov, a border guard of unparalleled insight, had sounded the alarm on an even greater calamity. The situation, dear comrades, was far graver than anyone had imagined! The security forces, while undoubtedly brave and noble, were entirely incapable of stopping war criminals at the border. Why? Because—minor detail—there were no criminal cases to justify their arrest! The great Russian legal system, always on the cutting edge of justice, had simply forgotten to press any charges against the perpetrators of Syrian massacres.

Picture the scene: a border guard at Sheremetyevo Airport squinting at a disheveled traveler whose phone contains irrefutable evidence of participation in mass murder. “Ah,” he sighs, stroking his well-earned belly. “If only we had some sort of legal framework to hold you accountable. But, alas, you are free to go, friend.” A tear rolls down his cheek as the terrorist strolls into the duty-free shop, looking for a good deal on vodka.

Kabanov, ever the hero, refused to stand for such injustice. He resolved to detain the miscreant anyway, summoning his colleagues from the anti-extremism unit. They, too, would nod sagely, murmur about the lack of legal authority, and then solemnly agree to deny entry. And just like that, the threat would be neutralized—by sending the criminal right back into the chaos from whence he came. A brilliant maneuver! Let no one say that Russian security forces lack creativity.

But what truly separated Russia from those dreadful “gay Europeans”? The moral superiority, of course! While the West showered praise upon radicals, Russia did the noble thing: it scowled at them disapprovingly. No need for actual prosecution, no need for legal mechanisms—just a good, hearty expression of national disgust. Surely, that was enough. Surely, the country’s fearless warriors, armed with nothing but grimaces and passport stamps, would hold back the tides of terror.

And thus, the Russian state continued its valiant battle against extremism with a strategy so flawless, so intricately designed, that not even the sharpest minds of the FSB could make sense of it. The borders remained porous, the security forces remained baffled, and the terrorists? Well, they got to enjoy a free, anxiety-inducing round trip through Russian customs. A masterclass in statecraft, indeed.