By Xhabir Deralla

A political earthquake is unfolding in Slovakia over the alleged secretive sale of state military assets. Former Defense Minister Jaroslav Naď (Demokrati party) has accused the current Defense Minister, Robert Kaliňák (Smer-SD), of quietly selling off Slovak air defense systems to an African nation for massive private profit, despite years of criticizing Naď for “disarming” the country, Aktuality.sk reported on June 1.

Beyond the fierce war of words between the two political rivals, this scandal exposes a shadowy network involving private companies in both Slovakia and Romania, and the naive geographic corridor of North Macedonia.

Jaroslav Naď (screenshot, Startitup.sk, press conference, October 2025)

The Alleged “Scrap to Millions” Scheme

At the center of the controversy are two batteries of the 2K12 Kub (NATO reporting name SA-6 “Gainful”), a Soviet-era mobile surface-to-air missile system.

According to Naď, who presented purchase agreements, photos, and an End-User Certificate (EUC) at his press conference, the transfer followed a highly suspicious multi-step route. The first step was the initial sale. The Slovak Ministry of Defense allegedly sold the systems to a private Slovak company named Robus for an unknown amount—though estimates suggest it was sold for a mere €42,000.

Robert Kaliňák (photo source: Wikipedia)

Then, the real story begins. In 2025, Robus resold the equipment to a Romanian defense company (SC Romanian Allied International Defense) for a staggering €10 million (excluding VAT). The weapons were reportedly moved from Slovakia to Romania, and then transported through North Macedonia.

According to an EUC issued by the Romanian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the ultimate buyer was the Ministry of Defense of Uganda, with the total value reaching around €11 million by the time it reached the final customer.

The core of Naď’s accusation is that state military property was funneled to a private firm for practically nothing, only to be instantly flipped on the international arms market for millions of euros.

(The €42,000 Calculation: The exact price the private company Robus paid the Slovak Ministry of Defense remains classified. However, former Defense Minister Jaroslav Naď revealed that available state contracts only show Robus purchasing “military scrap metal” at €150 per ton. Based on the known weight of the Kub systems, Naď calculated the state received a mere €42,000. Shortly after, Robus flipped the equipment to a Romanian firm for €10 million (excluding VAT). This staggering discrepancy – buying for pennies and selling for millions – is exactly why the opposition is now demanding the immediate declassification of the original contracts. Source: Týždeň)

The irony and the unanswered questions

When Jaroslav Naď was Defense Minister (2020–2023), he authorized the donation of Slovakia’s retired MiG-29 fighter jets and some of its Kub air defense systems to Ukraine to aid in its defense against Russia. Current Prime Minister Robert Fico and Defense Minister Robert Kaliňák weaponized this politically, heavily campaigning on the narrative that Naď had “committed treason,” given away all of Slovakia’s defenses, and left the country “naked and barefoot.” They even pushed for a police investigation into Naď, which ultimately found that no crime was committed.

Robert Fico (photo: Michael McGrath / Wikipedia)

Naď is now using this leak to highlight what he sees as extreme hypocrisy – the very politicians who claimed he gave away Slovakia’s air defenses are now allegedly selling off the remaining stock to Uganda via private middlemen, Startitup.sk reported.  

Robert Kaliňák has forcefully pushed back against the accusations, though he confirmed the systems were sold. His defense relies on his own claims that the systems sold were non-combat-capable, decommissioned “scrap” property, and that the state sold them for only tens of thousands of euros because they were virtually worthless to the military. He argues that the legal framework and initial decisions to categorize this equipment as surplus or scrap were actually put in place during Naď’s own tenure. Furthermore, Kaliňák insists that the Slovak Air Force currently possesses the exact same number of operational, combat-ready Kub batteries as it did the day he took office.

While Kaliňák claims the state only sold “scrap,” critics and the opposition are asking the obvious question: How does scrap metal sold for tens of thousands of euros suddenly become worth €10–11 million to a foreign government?

If the systems were truly broken, the private company Robus would have had to source highly specialized, and heavily sanctioned, Russian-made spare parts to make them operational for Uganda. The opposition argues that it is highly unlikely a private firm could achieve this without state assistance, raising deep suspicions of corruption, state asset stripping, and the misuse of export licenses.

More than a “questionable procurement”: Why does Uganda need anti-aircraft systems?

In standard military procurement, a state purchases weapons systems based on a threat analysis to meet specific operational needs. What is Uganda’s Conflict Profile?

The Ugandan People’s Defense Force (UPDF) is primarily structured for counter-insurgency (COIN) and asymmetric warfare. The 2K12 Kub (SA-6) is a medium-range, anti-aircraft missile system designed to defend fixed targets against fighter jets and bombers. It is entirely nonfunctional in the scenarios Uganda operates in.

Uganda’s armed forces cannot use medium-range surface-to-air missiles to control crowds in Kampala, police opposition rallies, or conduct counter-terrorism operations against domestic cells. Domestic unrest is handled by police, intelligence services, and light infantry, using tear gas, armored APCs, and small arms. Buying sophisticated anti-air systems for internal policing is akin to buying a sledgehammer to crack an egg—it is not only excessive, it is physically impossible to use.

Uganda’s primary external engagement is in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), targeting rebel groups like the Allied Democratic Forces (ADF). These are jungle-based counter-insurgency operations against irregular guerrillas.

The ADF has zero airpower. They do not possess helicopters, fighter jets, or bombers. Therefore, an anti-aircraft system like the Kub has absolutely no targets in the DRC theater. It would be a massive, expensive, and immobile logistical burden in a dense jungle environment where mobility and infantry are key.

When a government spends roughly $11 million (the resale price from the Romanian firm) on military hardware that offers zero operational utility, the standard conclusion is that the purchase has a covert political or financial purpose rather than a military one.

This reinforces the suspicions that Uganda is a conduit. A third party (likely Russia, or a Russian proxy) needed these specific Soviet-era systems but could not purchase them openly from NATO members due to sanctions or political friction. Uganda, as a pro-Russian proxy in Africa with “clean” paperwork, acted as the “cut-out” to receive the hardware before quietly shipping it to the actual end-user.

What we see is a financial facade for shadow operations. The “convoluted route” itself (Slovakia – Romania – North Macedonia – Uganda) suggests an operation designed to obfuscate the final destination of the money and the goods. The Ugandan purchase provides plausible deniability.

In short, the Ugandan government bought weapons it cannot use in any of its current or anticipated conflicts – we are witnessing something more than a “questionable procurement” here. This is a clear case of sanctions evasion and international arms laundering.

2K12 Kub SAM of Serbian Army 250th Air Defense Brigade on display at “Partner 2013” military fair (Photo source: WIkipedia)

North Macedonia’s transit role – legally speaking 

In the context of this specific scandal, North Macedonia’s role was strictly as a transit country. There are no allegations that the North Macedonian government or its Ministry of Defense (MoD) brokered the deal, purchased the equipment, or acted as a financial intermediary.

Based on the documents presented by Jaroslav Naď, North Macedonia fits into the picture as a logistical checkpoint, not a buyer. The documented route shows the Kub systems moving from Slovakia to Romania, and then crossing into North Macedonia before finally being routed to Uganda.

Under international and domestic law, moving heavy surface-to-air missile systems through sovereign territory requires explicit authorization. The North Macedonian government – involving the MoD, the Ministry of Interior, and Customs – would have been responsible for approving transit permits, granting legal permission for the weapons to cross the border and traverse the country.

Furthermore, the transit country has the obligation to review the End-User Certificate (EUC), ensuring the ultimate destination is legal and not under international embargo. In this case, North Macedonian authorities would have reviewed the EUC, which Naď explicitly noted was processed by the Romanian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, verifying that the official buyer was the Ugandan Ministry of Defense. North Macedonia is also obliged to provide armed escorts to ensure the safe and secure transit of heavy military equipment through domestic highways or rail networks.

In short, North Macedonia acted as a geographical corridor. At least on paper, legally, official Skopje is playing no role in this scandal.

But to understand the true risk of this transit route, we have to look at where the weapons actually went.

(Editorial Note: As an organization that was part of the international Control Arms coalition, which actively advocated for the United Nations Arms Trade Treaty (ATT) in the 2010s, CIVIL possesses deep institutional memory of these regulations. Under the ATT, transit countries are encouraged to rigorously assess and regulate the flow of arms through their territory to prevent diversion. However, a common gray-market loophole is that transit countries often defer entirely to the exporting state’s paperwork to avoid geopolitical friction, turning a blind eye to obvious red flags.)

The Buyer: Uganda – conflict profile

Uganda is currently involved in significant conflicts on both internal and regional fronts. While it is not engaged in a conventional state-versus-state war, its military and internal security forces are highly active.

Its most significant military engagement is taking place outside its borders in the neighboring Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC). Since late 2021, the Uganda Peoples’ Defence Forces (UPDF) have been conducting joint military operations with the Congolese army in the dense eastern forests. Their primary target is the Allied Democratic Forces (ADF), a brutal rebel group originally formed in Uganda but now based in the DRC, which has pledged allegiance to the Islamic State (ISIS).

As of mid-2026, this conflict zone has been further complicated by a severe outbreak of the Bundibugyo strain of the Ebola virus. Despite appeals from the World Health Organization for a ceasefire to allow health workers to contain the emergency, the Ugandan military confirmed it will not halt its operations, citing the ADF’s continued killings and abductions.

Domestically, Uganda is currently recovering from a severe period of internal unrest and state-sponsored violence following the January 2026 general elections. President Yoweri Kaguta Museveni, who has been in power for four decades, secured another term in an election that opposition groups and international observers heavily criticized for alleged fraud, media blackouts, and militarization.

Following the election, massive youth-led protests erupted. The Ugandan government deployed heavily armed police and military forces to crush the demonstrations, resulting in fatalities, mass arrests, and accusations of torture and abductions. While the acute street protests were crushed by February, the underlying political conflict remains volatile, characterized by rising authoritarianism, suppressed civil society, and the targeting of human rights defenders.

So, while Uganda’s borders are not under conventional military threat, the state is actively fighting an insurgency in a neighboring country while maintaining an iron grip on its own population through heavy-handed security measures.

The “neutral” Uganda and the Russian links

Officially, Uganda claims to be strictly “neutral” and non-aligned. In practice, however, President Museveni’s government maintains close relations with the Russian President Vladimir Putin. The country is heavily reliant on Russian military hardware, and serves as a reliable amplifier for Russian geopolitical narratives in Africa.

Diplomatically, Uganda practices strategic abstention. Official Kampala has abstained from all major United Nations General Assembly resolutions condemning Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, demanding withdrawal, or seeking reparations. Museveni frequently invokes a Cold War-era see-saw policy, claiming he is “pro-Uganda” rather than pro-East or pro-West.

Yet, Uganda’s state-aligned media and leadership heavily echo the Kremlin’s talking points regarding Ukrainian sovereignty. Instead of acknowledging the invasion as an unprovoked attack on an independent nation, Museveni and his officials frequently frame the war as Russia defending itself against Western “imperialists.” This fits perfectly into Russia’s hybrid warfare and disinformation operations across the African continent – exploiting legitimate, historical anti-colonial grievances and redirecting them to launder Moscow’s own contemporary aggression.

Yoweri Kaguta Museveni with Vladimir Putin (photo source: website of Russia’s president / TASS)

The relationship between Kampala and Moscow is fundamentally anchored in defense, which contextualizes exactly why Uganda would be purchasing systems like the Kub batteries from Slovakia.

General Muhoozi Kainerugaba, Uganda’s army chief and Museveni’s son, has been explicitly pro-Russian. In 2023, he publicly declared that Uganda would send soldiers to defend Moscow if it were ever threatened by “imperialists.” This geopolitical alignment is having real-world impacts on the battlefield in Ukraine. As recently as early 2026, investigative reports revealed that deceptive human trafficking and recruitment networks have been luring Ugandan military veterans to Russia under the guise of security or civilian jobs, only to force them to fight for the Russian army on the Ukrainian front lines.

Ultimately, while Uganda does not formally endorse the invasion on paper, its leadership actively provides diplomatic cover and narrative support for Russia’s actions, and maintains a strong military partnership.

Russia’s desperate hunt for Soviet gear and the “straw buyer” proxy risk

There is a very real and widely discussed possibility that these weapons, or their parts, could ultimately end up in Russian hands. In fact, the fear that this deal is a sanctions-evasion scheme is exactly why the scandal has triggered such severe national security alarms in Slovakia.

Defense analysts and the Slovak opposition are deeply concerned about this specific risk. Because Russia is currently under strict Western sanctions, it cannot legally buy military hardware from NATO countries like Slovakia. To bypass these embargoes, Moscow frequently relies on friendly third-party nations to act as “straw buyers” or transit hubs.

Given Uganda’s deep military ties to Russia and its explicit political support for Moscow, the country is perfectly positioned to act as a proxy. Once the weapons are legally transferred to Ugandan ownership and are outside of NATO jurisdiction, Kampala is under no obligation to adhere to EU sanctions and could quietly re-export the systems to Russia.

While the 2K12 Kub is an older Soviet-era system, Russia has suffered catastrophic losses of its air defense networks in Ukraine. To replenish its front lines, Moscow has been actively scouring the globe – approaching countries in Africa, Asia, and the Middle East – to buy back exported Soviet-era tanks, missiles, and air defense systems.

Slovak Defense Minister Kaliňák defended the sale by claiming the systems were non-functional “scrap.” Ironically, if this is true, it actually increases the likelihood of a Russian destination.

If the systems are heavily degraded, a country like Uganda would struggle to repair them. However, Russia desperately needs spare parts—radar components, launcher hydraulics, and targeting arrays – to cannibalize and keep its own older systems running. Furthermore, the Russian military frequently deploys older, even non-functional air defense systems as decoys on the battlefield to absorb expensive Ukrainian anti-radiation missiles (like the US-supplied HARM) and drone strikes.

The highly convoluted route of the sale – moving from the Slovak state to a private firm, flipped to a Romanian company, transited through North Macedonia, and finally destined for Uganda – is a classic hallmark of international gray-market arms trading. The Slovak opposition, led by Jaroslav Naď, has pointed to this lack of transparency as evidence that the €11 million price tag does not reflect a simple scrap sale to an African nation, but rather a lucrative shadow deal where the true final customer is being hidden.

While there is no definitive public proof yet that these specific Kub systems are bound for Russia, the geopolitical reality leaves no room for alternative explanations. The complete lack of operational utility for medium-range air defenses in Uganda’s domestic conflicts effectively strips away any veneer of legitimate procurement. Combined with Kampala’s deep alignment with Moscow and the highly secretive, multi-nation route of the sale, the evidence strongly points to a classic gray-market mechanism. What began as a questionable bureaucratic transfer now bears all the undeniable hallmarks of a sophisticated international arms laundering scheme designed to feed Russia’s frontline attrition. 

When the paperwork is clean, and yet the operation is suspicious

When military hardware moves through a country’s territory on its way to a highly suspicious destination, it naturally looks like complicity. However, legally and operationally, being a transit corridor is very different from being a knowing participant in a sanctions evasion scheme. In this scenario, North Macedonia appears to have been caught in what is essentially a bureaucratic “paperwork trap.”

North Macedonia’s Ministry of Defense likely didn’t have the legal grounds – or the specific intelligence – to stop it. The paperwork was likely technically clean. For a transit country, the approval process is strict but purely administrative. North Macedonia’s MoD, Ministry of Interior, and customs officials do not interrogate the deep geopolitical motives of a sale; they evaluate the official documents presented to them.

In this case, the weapons were entering from Romania, a fellow NATO and EU member. The official End-User Certificate (EUC) stated the final buyer was the Ministry of Defense of Uganda. Crucially, Uganda is not under any United Nations or European Union arms embargo.

On paper, this was a perfectly legal, documented transfer of military equipment from an allied European nation to a recognized African government.

However, in the international arms trade, the responsibility for vetting the final buyer falls almost entirely on the exporting countries—in this case, Slovakia (where the initial sale originated) and Romania (which issued the final export license).

A transit country like North Macedonia generally trusts the export controls and vetting processes of its NATO allies. If Romania explicitly guarantees that the shipment is legally cleared for Uganda, North Macedonia has very little legal justification to block an ally’s cargo at the border based on mere geopolitical suspicion.

The nature of “straw buyers” and why North Macedonia is (not) entirely clean

The entire point of a “straw buyer” proxy scheme is to make the paperwork look flawless so that transit countries and customs officials wave it through without a second thought. If Uganda is secretly planning to strip the systems for parts and ship them to Russia, they aren’t going to declare that on the customs transit forms. And on a purely administrative level, North Macedonia’s authorities have nothing to investigate there.

Unless Western intelligence agencies specifically tipped off Skopje and provided hard evidence that the shipment was bound for the Russian front lines, the North Macedonian MoD would have had no actionable legal reason to halt it. So, while North Macedonia’s highway or airspace was utilized to facilitate the route, accusing the MoD of being “part of” a sanctions evasion operation implies a level of active, knowing conspiracy that standard international transit laws just do not support.

On paper, the real scrutiny for this deal belongs to the officials in Bratislava and Bucharest who approved the export in the first place. The story should actually end here, with the attention remaining firmly in the political backyard of the Slovak and Romanian governments.

But a deeper geopolitical reading of the situation, the timeline of events, and recent diplomatic interactions certainly widens the circle of suspects.

While the paperwork might have been technically “clean,” the political reality is that governments choose exactly how closely they want to scrutinize that paperwork. If we look at the ideological alignment and recent interactions of North Macedonia’s Prime Minister Hristijan Mickoski with Fico’s government, the idea of North Macedonia acting as an intentionally compliant “geographic corridor” becomes highly plausible.

The red flag and “the willful blind eye”

Here is why.

There has been a drastic shift in North Macedonia’s defense policy since VMRO-DPMNE took office in mid-2024. The previous administration practically emptied its Soviet-era reserves – including Sukhoi fighter jets and T-72 tanks – to arm Ukraine.

Under Prime Minister Hristijan Mickoski and Defense Minister Vlado Misajlovski, the rhetoric remains officially supportive of Ukraine’s sovereignty (as seen at the Munich Security Conference and the Crimea Platform), but the actual flow of lethal military aid has entirely dried up. Misajlovski has publicly expressed skepticism about continuing to send weapons, leaning heavily into the rhetoric of pushing for “peace talks” instead.

Vlado Misajlovski (second from right), Slovak Defense Minister Robert Kaliňák (third from right) and other officials at the opening ceremony of the IDEB Defence & Security exhibition in Bratislava, Slovakia. May 12, 2026. The backdrop displays logos for “ID EB INCHEBA DEFENCE SECURITY” and “MINISTERSTVO OBRANY SLOVENSKEJ REPUBLIKY” (Ministry of Defense of the Slovak Republic). Ref: Misajlovski – Kalinak, visit to Slovakia, May 12, 2026.jpg. (Source: Vlado Misajlovski, Facebook)

This mirrors Robert Fico’s exact playbook in Slovakia: maintaining NATO and EU minimums on paper while halting state military aid to Kyiv.

Defense Minister Misajlovski has cultivated direct ties with his Slovak counterpart, Robert Kaliňák, including bilateral meetings at defense expos in Bratislava. In the international arms trade, a transit request involving heavy surface-to-air missiles isn’t just an automated email—it requires high-level sign-offs. When a request comes from a closely aligned regional ally like Kaliňák, a politically sympathetic MoD in Skopje is highly likely to wave it through as a professional courtesy.

That is exactly why this is not a bedtime story, and why one needs to distinguish between being a full financial accomplice and a political facilitator. And it is exactly where a small country punches above its weight.

The North Macedonian MoD almost certainly did not broker the financial terms or profit from the €11 million markup. However, transit countries still possess sovereign intelligence and risk-assessment capabilities. According to security and defense experts consulted by CIVIL, who preferred to remain anonymous, an arms shipment of Soviet-era anti-aircraft missiles taking a bizarre, winding route from Slovakia through Romania, down into North Macedonia, and then off to Uganda – a country with deep military ties to Russia – is a massive red flag.

The editorial board of CIVIL MEDIA reached out to the Cabinet of Prime Minister Hristijan Mickoski seeking an answer to an important detail of this story: which company was hired to physically transport the Kub systems across Macedonian territory? The formal transit permit for military equipment is issued by the Ministry of Economy, but only after receiving strict consent from the Ministries of Defense, Interior, and Foreign Affairs.

Furthermore, the editorial board asked whether the competent institutions conducted a security and geopolitical risk assessment before granting this mandatory consent, given the end-user’s (Uganda) deep military ties with the Russian Federation. It is also of public interest to know exactly when this transit took place across Macedonian territory and whether the Ministry of Interior provided the appropriate armed escort for the convoy, in accordance with legal obligations.

Viewed in a broader context, on paper, everything looks fine, and even NATO seems perfectly okay with all of it. Despite widespread international condemnation of Uganda’s “democratic” conduct, no global actor is questioning this specific arms transfer or the NATO members involved. Ultimately, two lethal Soviet-era weapon systems that started as “scrap metal” have become an €11 million deal in Uganda, with a real chance of ending up back in Europe, in Russian hands, on the battlefield.

Meanwhile, Kyiv’s calls for boosting its air defenses meet slow European bureaucratic scrutiny, while hundreds of drones and missiles destroy civilian infrastructure and take civilian lives in Ukrainian cities.

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