Sergey Lavrov reached for one of Europe’s most charged historical analogies as relations between Moscow and Berlin deteriorated further. In an interview released on September 6, the Russian foreign minister described Germany’s accusations and diplomatic measures as, in essence, “the beginning of a real war.” He cited the planned closure of Russia’s consulate general in Bonn and Berlin’s move against the Russian House cultural centre, then recalled the closing of diplomatic missions before the Second World War and said Germans “want war again.”
The historical language is significant because both Germany and Russia build major parts of their political memory around the war, but it does not change the legal condition between the two states. Russia has not formally declared war on Germany. Berlin says just as explicitly that Germany is not at war. The German government instead describes itself as a daily target of hybrid warfare: sabotage, espionage, cyber operations, disinformation and other hostile activity that remains below the threshold of a conventional armed attack.
The immediate dispute arose from an incident at Leipzig/Halle Airport on August 4. German authorities say an explosive-laden drone was intended for use near a Ukrainian transport aircraft and attribute the operation to Russia. Moscow rejects that accusation. Berlin has not published every piece of investigative evidence; officials say names, travel routes, video and DNA traces are being withheld to protect the inquiry. That leaves a familiar problem in cases involving covert action: governments make public attribution while some of the evidentiary chain remains inside security and judicial institutions.
Germany’s response nevertheless has tangible consequences. The Russian consulate general in Bonn is due to close on September 18, and the agreement underpinning the Russian House in Berlin has been terminated. Berlin also plans tighter entry controls for Russian nationals, additional EU sanctions listings and more pressure on Russia’s so-called shadow fleet. German officials describe the package as proportionate and designed to avoid escalation, while insisting that support for Ukraine will continue.
Moscow has answered with retaliation of its own. Russia announced the closure of Goethe-Institut branches in Moscow, St Petersburg and Yekaterinburg, while rejecting responsibility for the Leipzig incident. Yet the Kremlin has also said it wants diplomatic relations with Germany to continue. That tension is revealing: cultural and consular ties are being narrowed while neither government is treating the relationship as one of formal belligerency.
Lavrov’s comparison with the years before the Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union therefore belongs to the politics of memory as much as to present-day diplomacy. It places current German policy inside a narrative of recurring German aggression, even as Berlin frames its own actions as defensive measures against hybrid threats and as part of its support for Ukraine. What follows will depend on the Leipzig investigation, further European sanctions and Moscow’s response. The historical analogy may endure in political speeches, but the practical contest remains over evidence, diplomacy, security policy and the boundaries of confrontation short of open war.