When a Russian model emailed Jeffrey Epstein in 2017 to say it had been nice to see him, the exchange initially followed a grimly familiar pattern. Epstein asked her to “send a naughty photo to prove it,” then pressed for a topless image. When she declined, saying she felt uncomfortable, he persisted with a curt “please.” Then, abruptly, the tone shifted. Five minutes later, Epstein wrote that “my Russian ambassador friend that I told you about just died in New York.”
The reference was to Vitaly Churkin, Russia’s ambassador to the United Nations and a senior figure in President Vladimir Putin’s diplomatic circle, who had died suddenly in his Manhattan office earlier that year. As detailed in reporting by The Times UK, the moment captures two defining aspects of the newly released Epstein files: his relentless sexual coercion, and his surprisingly deep entanglement with individuals tied to the Kremlin. Together, they have reignited a question that once seemed implausible but now refuses to fade away. Was Epstein merely a predator who collected powerful acquaintances, or was he operating something closer to a kompromat network with geopolitical implications?
The document cache, released by the US Department of Justice, paints a picture of a man who moved comfortably among Russian ambassadors, oligarchs, politicians, and figures with intelligence backgrounds. Putin’s name appears more than 1,000 times across the files, while Moscow is referenced nearly 10,000 times. There is no evidence that Epstein ever met Putin in person, but the sheer volume of references has drawn renewed scrutiny from investigators, journalists, and intelligence analysts alike.
Churkin appears as one of Epstein’s most prominent Russian connections. Appointed UN ambassador in 2006, Churkin became close to Epstein around 2015, with records suggesting they met frequently for coffee in New York. Epstein even offered discreet help in securing job opportunities in the United States for Churkin’s son, stressing in messages that his involvement “must be confidential.” A diary entry from August 2016 suggests a lunch involving Epstein, Churkin, and Ehud Barak, the former Israeli prime minister, highlighting the unusual convergence of diplomatic, political, and intelligence-linked figures around Epstein.
Even after Churkin’s death, Epstein continued to trade on the relationship. In emails from 2018, he claimed to have helped the ambassador understand Donald Trump during the early days of his presidency. “Churkin was great,” Epstein wrote. “He understood trump after our conversations.” He added that Russia’s foreign minister, Sergei Lavrov, could also gain “insight on talking to me,” a statement that suggests Epstein believed he occupied a role far beyond that of a private financier.
Another key figure in the files is Sergei Belyakov, a deputy minister of economic development and a graduate of the FSB intelligence academy. Epstein described Belyakov as a “very good friend.” Their correspondence, beginning in 2014, is striking in its warmth and strategic tone. After one early meeting, Belyakov wrote that Epstein was unlike anyone he knew, capable of “open[ing] new horizons and prospects.”
By 2018, Belyakov was writing to the Russian consulate in New York requesting a three-year multiple-entry visa for Epstein. He said Epstein was leading projects to attract US investment into Russia, with plans for repeated visits to Moscow for seminars and economic forums. Epstein’s travel expenses, according to the request, would be covered by a Russian organisation. Belyakov also appears to have provided a reference to support a visa application for one of Epstein’s aides.
The files suggest Epstein was not merely cultivating Russian officials but occasionally acting as an intermediary. In 2015 he wrote to Belyakov seeking help with what he described as a Russian woman attempting to blackmail “a group of powerful biznessmen [sic] in New York.” In a later draft email Epstein sent to himself, he appeared to outline a response after speaking to Belyakov, claiming that friends in the FSB had warned the woman her threats would be dealt with “extremely harshly.” The message reads less like bluff than like someone accustomed to invoking state power to intimidate.
Epstein’s reach appears to have extended into Russia’s elite business circles as well. The files indicate contact with Oleg Deripaska, the oligarch who made his fortune in metals and energy and was later sanctioned for his alleged closeness to Putin. In 2009 Epstein contacted Lord Mandelson, then Britain’s business secretary, asking about Deripaska’s views on an Armenian businessman. Mandelson relayed a blunt response attributed to Deripaska: “Don’t have anything to do with that jerk.” When Epstein later needed a last-minute visa to Moscow, there was an unsuccessful attempt to use Deripaska’s local contacts.
The broader pattern that emerges, as The Times UK notes, is one of Epstein positioning himself as a connector between Russia and the West at a time of increasing geopolitical tension. Belyakov invited him to participate in the St Petersburg International Economic Forum, and when attendance dropped after sanctions were imposed following Russia’s annexation of Crimea, Epstein offered to help recruit foreign guests. After Donald Trump’s election in 2016, Belyakov emailed Epstein to congratulate him on “your President.” Epstein replied simply: “fun.”
Perhaps the most extraordinary material in the files concerns Epstein’s apparent ambition to influence Russia’s strategic direction. In a 2013 message, he sought a meeting with Putin to persuade him to “take the lead in finance” and leapfrog Western dominance, likening the opportunity to the shock of Sputnik. Russia, he wrote, could reinvent global finance rather than copying Silicon Valley or competing with American tech giants. “Russia is unique [in] its capability to execute on a grand vision,” Epstein insisted, urging contacts to secure him access to the Kremlin.
Such language has fueled suspicions that Epstein was offering more than ideas. On Tuesday, Poland’s prime minister, Donald Tusk, announced an investigation into whether Epstein had been spying for Russia, citing suspicions that he recruited escorts from Russia and eastern Europe to gather compromising material on influential figures. Tusk suggested it was possible that Epstein’s criminal enterprise had been “co-organised by Russian intelligence services,” a claim that dramatically escalates the implications of the files.
There is, however, no definitive proof that Epstein was a paid agent or controlled asset of Moscow. The Kremlin has dismissed the allegations outright. Dmitry Peskov, Putin’s spokesman, said the idea that Epstein was run by Russian intelligence could be taken “in any way, but not seriously.” US authorities have not publicly accused Epstein of espionage, and much of the evidence remains circumstantial, drawn from emails, diary entries, and third-party testimony.
Still, for investigators and historians, the sheer density of Epstein’s Russian connections is impossible to ignore. At minimum, the files suggest a man who deliberately embedded himself within networks of power where intelligence, money, and influence overlapped. Whether he was exploiting those networks for personal leverage, sexual coercion, and protection, or whether he was serving the interests of a foreign state, remains unresolved.
What is clear is that Epstein’s story now stretches far beyond the confines of a criminal scandal. As reported by The Times UK, the newly released files point toward a shadow world in which sexual predation, political access, and international intrigue may have intersected. The question of whether Epstein was a Kremlin asset may never be conclusively answered, but the evidence ensures it will no longer be dismissed as conspiracy. Instead, it sits uneasily in the grey zone where power operates best, demanding further scrutiny long after Epstein himself is gone.
