A British engineering firm’s plan to export advanced manufacturing machinery to Armenia has triggered mounting concern among sanctions experts and senior MPs, amid fears that the deal could indirectly bolster Russia’s war effort in Ukraine. According to an investigation by the Guardian UK, the contract exposes potential weaknesses in Britain’s export control system at a time when Moscow is actively seeking ways to bypass western sanctions.
At the center of the controversy is Cygnet Texkimp, a Cheshire-based company that manufactures high-tech machines used to produce carbon fibre “prepreg,” a lightweight and exceptionally strong material with both civilian and military applications. The machines, worth more than £4 million, are reportedly in the final stages of assembly at Cygnet’s warehouse in Northwich and are expected to be exported within weeks to a newly established Armenian firm, Rydena LLC.
While the transaction has been approved by the UK government and complies on paper with export licensing rules, experts say the identity and background of the Armenian buyer raise serious red flags. Rydena was founded in Yerevan two years into Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine by former senior executives of Umatex, a Russian carbon fibre producer sanctioned by both the United States and the UK for its central role in supplying the Kremlin’s military-industrial complex.
Carbon fibre is not an obscure industrial material. In February 2023, the US Treasury singled it out as “critical” to Russia’s war machine, noting its use in aircraft, missiles, armored vehicles and military drones. Umatex, a subsidiary of Russia’s state-owned nuclear giant Rosatom, was identified as the country’s largest producer of the material and a linchpin of numerous defense programs. Britain followed Washington’s lead by imposing sanctions on Umatex later that year.
Olena Yurchenko, a senior analyst at the Economic Security Council of Ukraine, described Umatex’s output as “indispensable” to modern Russian weapons, particularly drones, where reducing weight and increasing heat resistance can determine battlefield effectiveness. Any effort to maintain or expand Russia’s carbon fibre capacity, she warned, is strategically significant.
Rydena’s leadership team reads like a roll call of Umatex alumni. Its founder, Dmitry Kogan, served as deputy CEO at Umatex until early 2023, during the first year of the invasion of Ukraine. He was joined by Alexander Shleynikov, Umatex’s former director of business development, and later by Aleksandr Ilichev, an award-winning composites scientist who once headed Umatex’s testing laboratory. Corporate records show that some of these executives continue to list Moscow addresses in filings for a related holding company registered in Cyprus.
Armenia’s role adds another layer of complexity. Sandwiched between Russia, Iran and Turkey, the country has been identified in UK government reports as a potential hub for indirect procurement of “critical” military goods by Moscow. While Armenia has not joined western sanctions against Russia, its growing trade links have drawn scrutiny from regulators concerned about diversion risks.
Rydena insists it is a civilian enterprise. Its website highlights applications in aerospace, automotive manufacturing and unmanned aerial vehicles, even advertising futuristic ambitions. The company has stated that the British machinery will be used solely for civilian industrial production and that it does not do business with Russian clients or any sanctioned entities.
Cygnet, for its part, says it followed all required procedures. The company told the Guardian UK that it undertook detailed end-user checks, received full export approval from the government and obtained a signed undertaking from Rydena pledging that the machines would not be used for military purposes or for weapons of mass destruction. Government officials reportedly told Cygnet they had “no specific concerns” about the contract.
Yet sanctions specialists argue that such assurances may offer little real protection. Anna Bradshaw, an expert on export controls, warned that end-user undertakings are a weak safeguard when dealing with high-risk regions and individuals with deep ties to sanctioned industries. Once sensitive equipment or technical knowledge leaves the UK, she said, enforcement becomes nearly impossible.
“There is a clear diversion risk,” Bradshaw cautioned. “If the response is simply that an end-user statement mitigates this, that is deeply worrying. If it’s breached, the damage is already done.”
According to the Guardian’s reporting, Cygnet has already shared technical drawings with Rydena and agreed to provide operational manuals translated into Russian, a language commonly used in Armenian industry but also the lingua franca of Russia’s defense sector. Even if the machines themselves never cross into Russia, experts say the transfer of know-how alone could strengthen sanctioned supply chains.
The case has now drawn political attention. Liam Byrne, chair of the House of Commons business select committee, said the deal is riddled with warning signs and that the government must explain how it assessed the risks. He is expected to formally question the Department for Business and Trade about what officials knew regarding Rydena’s connections to Umatex when the export licence was granted.
While there is no suggestion that Cygnet violated export rules, the episode highlights the growing difficulty of enforcing sanctions in a globalized economy where goods, expertise and corporate structures can be rerouted through third countries. Russia’s war has accelerated this cat-and-mouse game, with western governments racing to close loopholes as Moscow adapts.
A spokesperson for the Department for Business and Trade defended the system, saying the UK operates one of the most robust export control regimes in the world and has banned thousands of products from being sent directly to Russia. The government insists that all licensing decisions are made against strict criteria and in coordination with international partners.
Still, for Ukraine and its allies, the stakes are painfully clear. Each drone, missile or armored vehicle built with advanced materials prolongs a war that has already cost tens of thousands of lives. As the Guardian UK’s investigation underscores, preventing that outcome increasingly depends not just on headline sanctions, but on the fine print of export licences, corporate histories and the global pathways of modern industry.
