In a display of performative indignation that could only be described as ‘peak Brussels,’ the German government has finally noticed that the Russian diplomatic corps isn’t just there for the cheap schnitzel and tax-free Riesling. Having recently arrested a suspect in an espionage case linked to the ongoing meat-grinder in Ukraine, Berlin has responded with its most lethal weapon: the strongly worded expulsion. A single Russian diplomat has been told to pack his bags, presumably because Germany’s security apparatus needed to do something that looked like work without actually interrupting the flow of whatever back-channel energy deals are currently being whispered about in the dark corners of the Reichstag.

Let’s pause to appreciate the sheer, unadulterated shock radiating from Berlin. To hear the German authorities tell it, the discovery that a Russian official might be engaged in espionage is as surprising as finding out that a toddler in a mud pit is dirty. For decades, the German political elite—across the entire spectrum of uselessness—has operated under the delusion that if you just invite the bear to enough chamber music concerts and buy enough of its gas, it will eventually stop acting like a bear. Now, as they scramble to look 'tough' on security, we are treated to the spectacle of a government that spent years dismantling its own intelligence capabilities suddenly acting like they’re the protagonists of a John le Carré novel. It’s not a spy thriller; it’s a puppet show where the strings are made of frayed Nord Stream pipeline.

The Russian side, of course, plays its role with the weary boredom of a professional liar. Their ‘diplomats’ are essentially KGB agents in better-fitting suits, and the expulsion of one is merely a logistical inconvenience—a minor disruption in a well-oiled machine of subversion. Moscow’s inevitable ‘symmetrical response’ will involve booting some German cultural attaché who was probably just there to teach Tolstoy to indifferent students, and the cycle of diplomatic theater will remain unbroken. Both sides understand the script: one side pretends to be outraged, the other pretends to be insulted, and the actual spies—the ones not dumb enough to get caught—continue their work over lunch. It’s a pantomime of statecraft designed to satisfy a public that still believes national borders mean something in an era of globalized grift.

And what of the espionage itself? The summary suggests it’s tied to the war in Ukraine, which is the current flavor of the month for every bored intelligence officer looking to justify their budget. We are led to believe that this single arrest and subsequent expulsion represents a significant blow to the Kremlin’s reach. In reality, it’s a drop of ink in the ocean. The German security services are perpetually playing catch-up, hindered by a bureaucracy that treats a digital password change with the same gravitas as a constitutional amendment. They catch one low-level operative and act as if they’ve dismantled the entire SVR. It’s the equivalent of a mall security guard catching a shoplifter and claiming he’s ended global poverty.

On the Left, the usual suspects will decry this as an unnecessary escalation, clutching their pearls at the thought of ‘damaging dialogue’ with a regime that has clearly stopped listening. On the Right, the chest-thumping nationalists will complain that Germany didn’t expel twenty more, ignoring the fact that their own parties are often funded by the very interests they claim to oppose. Both sides are equally nauseating, using a serious breach of national sovereignty as a springboard for their own pathetic talking points. They aren't interested in security; they are interested in the appearance of security. They want the voters to believe that the house is locked while the front door is currently being used as a communal frisbee by every foreign intelligence agency with a functioning internet connection.

The tragedy here—if one can muster the energy to feel anything other than contempt—is the sheer predictability of it all. Germany expels a man, Russia expels a man, the media writes a thousand breathless words about a ‘chilling in relations,’ and tomorrow the sun rises on a world that is no safer, no smarter, and significantly more annoying. The war in Ukraine continues to serve as a convenient backdrop for these hollow gestures of geopolitical relevance. This isn't diplomacy; it's housekeeping. It’s cleaning the lint off a suit while the wearer is falling off a cliff. Berlin can pat itself on the back for its ‘decisive action,’ but we all know the truth: the spies are still there, the bureaucrats are still incompetent, and the rest of us are still stuck watching this tedious, multi-billion-dollar comedy of errors play out in real-time.