Yevgeny Prigozhin only lives twice

Like his James Bond movie doppelgänger Ernst Stavro Blofeld, Yevgeny Prigozhin is the man who will not go away.

Just when you think he is dead, marginalized or put out to pasture in the potato fields of Belarus, he comes roaring back to life when least expected for a diabolical second act.

Prigozhin has indeed returned, this time reappearing in a video filmed at dusk at one of the Wagner Group’s new military camps in Belarus. His silhouette and voice are unmistakable, as are his criticisms of Russian President Vladimir Putin’s “special military operation” in Ukraine. He is as harsh as ever, characterizing the Kremlin’s war effort on the front lines as a “disgrace.”

The specter (SPECTRE?) of Prigozhin rising once again is surely a discomfiting one for Putin, who has been left badly weakened in the aftermath of the Wagner Group’s short-lived uprising on June 24. Even more deeply troubling to Putin is that Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko, himself under immense pressure, appears to be coyly trying to weaponize Prigozhin against the Russian president.

On the surface, Lukashenko, during his meeting with Putin on Sunday in St. Petersburg, Russia, appeared to be aiming Prigozhin as a dagger against Poland. To that end, albeit jokingly, Lukashenko teased Putin, “The Wagner guys have started to stress us. They want to go west. ‘Let’s go on a trip to Warsaw and Rzeszow.'”

Yet the not so subtle below-the-surface hint to Putin, who likely did not fail to grasp it, was that a “stressed” Prigozhin could just as easily move east toward Moscow if he so chose — or was so directed. As the Institute for War noted in its July 23 update, the bulk of Prigozhin’s Wagner Group forces in Belarus are now positioned far closer to Moscow (about 447 miles “along an excellent military highway”) than they were from their previous main base in Krasnodar Krai (851 miles) during their abortive mutiny against the Russian Defense Ministry.

Lukashenko fully understands that Prigozhin’s military forces, publicly neutered of their heavy weaponry and supplies after Prigozhin’s rebellion — including T-90 tanks, artillery, surface-to-air missile systems, armored vehicles and ammunition — pose no real threat to Poland or to NATO as currently armed. Bringing a map of Poland, in this regard, was simply the excuse for Lukashenko to visually remind Putin that Minsk now believes it holds a strategic wild card in the form of Prigozhin, which he can play at any time against the Kremlin.

To paraphrase a ubiquitous saying: With friends like Lukashenko and Prigozhin, Putin does not need enemies. 

Lukashenko, since day one, despite characterizing Putin’s war in Ukraine as “our” war, has tried to avoid at all costs getting dragged into the actual fighting. Minsk is solely in it for the spoils of war, if and when they come, unwilling the shoulder the actual economic and military cost. 

Prigozhin, however, is another matter.

Lukashenko, wily as he may be, likely overplays his hand when it comes to controlling the man once known as “Putin’s chef.” Undoubtedly, Lukashenko views Prigozhin as a useful and multifaceted tool, whether for rattling his saber to unsettle Warsaw, protecting against any domestic Belarusian uprising, keeping Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky off-balance or keeping Putin at bay.

But Prigozhin likely sees his future far differently. Like his fictional alter ego Blofeld, who first made his appearance in Ian Fleming’s 1964 novel “You Only Live Twice,” Prigozhin is learning, as Blofeld did from James Bond, the useful art of rising from the dead. 

Bond first pulled off that feat in Japan in the 1967 movie of the same name. Prigozhin is well along the process of doing the same in Belarus. 

Lukashenko, in coming to Prigozhin’s rescue after his failed mutiny in Russia, is giving the Wagner Group chief the chance to prove that yes, you can live twice. Yet in doing so, Lukashenko is playing with fire. 

Prigozhin is a mercurial psychopath, useful but deadly. Even Putin has struggled to control him over time. Putin has decided for now that Prigozhin is better alive than dead. Even Sir Richard Moore, who heads up the real-life MI6, is perplexed by Putin’s decision.

Moore, who is referred to as “C” in British intelligence circles (the equivalent of “M” in the 007 movies”), noted, “If you look at Putin’s behaviors on that day, Prigozhin started off I think, as a traitor at breakfast. He had been pardoned by supper and then a few days later, he was invited for tea.”

Now, Prigozhin is having tea in Belarus.

Slippery as Prigozhin has been to date, it is best to prepare for a variety of plot twists that are likely yet to come. Lukashenko appears to believe Prigozhin is a check on Putin, but Putin might offer Prigozhin a chance to redeem himself by serving as a check on Lukashenko. Villains, after all, are infamous for turning against each other.

Or Prigozhin could turn out to be what he has always been: his own man. He could go rogue, deciding to go out in a blaze of glory and attack Poland and NATO forces as his ultimate revenge against Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu and the Russian Ministry of Defense. He could wait and plot to topple Lukashenko himself. 

Prigozhin could also turn south, attempting to drag Belarus into a hot war with Ukraine. Kyiv would be forced to respond to any threat coming from its north. Or, perhaps in the most Blofeld-like storyline of all, Prigozhin could seek revenge against Putin by marching yet again on Moscow — or detour to take St. Petersburg. 

Regardless of what choice Prigozhin ultimately makes, “Putin’s chef” has proven he has indeed found a way to live twice. Only he knows where that second life is headed and who will come to regret it. When it does, and the closing credits roll after the end of whatever his next act turns out to be, wait until the very end to see whether, as in the Bond movie style, they read: “Prigozhin will return.”

Mark Toth is an economist, entrepreneur, and former board member of the World Trade Center, St. Louis. Jonathan Sweet, a retired Army Colonel and 30-year military intelligence officer, led the U.S. European Command Intelligence Engagement Division from 2012 to 2014.