The events of the last few days have brought to mind a couple of quotes from Winston Churchill about the Russian political world. “Two dogs fighting under a carpet” and “a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma”. If Churchill were alive today, perhaps he would apply the same phrases to the political world of FC Barcelona.

In the same way that experts in Kremlinology try to decipher what goes on in the mind of Vladimir Putin, experts in Barçaology do not stop speculating about Joan Laporta’s intentions. Just as Putin lives in a state of alert, threatened by former KGB rivals, Laporta wages a permanent low-intensity, covert war against the clan represented by Sandro Rosell and the intelligence chief Joseph Maria Bartomeu.

The future is uncertain. The Russian economy is suffering the consequences of state mismanagement and the fiasco of the war in Ukraine, which raises doubts in a nation whose legendary capacity for resistance may have limits. Barça’s calamitous economy, also a victim of management errors, added to the aftermath of the war against covid, calls into question the stability of the club. In both cases, there are suspicions of corruption in the air.

Today the crisis is more intense in Russia, but it cannot be ruled out that Rosell will find the opportunity to lead a “march of justice” from the enclave of Empordà in the direction of the capital. Rosell has not killed anyone with a hammer, as far as is known, despite the fact that there is always the possibility that his nemesis, judge Carmen Lamela, will accuse him. But, apart from that, Rosell does have things in common with Yevgeny Prigozhin, the head of the Wagner Group who has just revolted against Putin. Both spent time in prison. Both have reason to resent an establishment whose members they despise.

The parallels extend to geopolitics. Putin has turned to the Turks to avoid the ruin of his country. Laporta has turned to a Turkish company to rebuild the crooked Camp Nou. On the battlefield, Russia has drones of Turkish origin; on the playing field, Barça has the brand new signing of Ilkay Gündogan, a German player with roots in Turkey.

Another parallel, this one more subtle: Putin is besieged by NATO; the English Premier League is the NATO that threatens Barça. Putin has had an ally against NATO and the West in general: China. Laporta has had as an ally against the Premier the Spanish Xi Jinping, the president for life of Real Madrid Florentino Pérez. But none is an alliance of love; they are alliances of convenience. The fragility of the Madrid-Barça relationship has already been demonstrated. The Chinese today are beginning to question the viability of the relationship with the shaky Russian Tsar.

Both Can Barça and the Putin cartel have more questions than answers. We can only speculate on what the outcomes will be. One possibility is that Saudi Arabia will come to the rescue.

It is important that Putin has the option of a more or less dignified exit. If he feels cornered, who knows what a guy who might be clinically insane and has 6,000 nuclear missiles at his command might do. The Saudi sheikhs, who are so well off today, who enjoy their growing hegemony in the sporting world, have more reason than most to prevent planet Earth from being reduced to ashes, so they could offer Putin the welcome opportunity to live the rest of his days in exile in a palace in Riyadh, safe and sound from Prigojin’s hammer blows or polonium in vodka.

The departure for Barça could follow a similar path. There are a couple of options. One, to leave “Spain” and join the Saudi football league, a destination that is increasingly desirable for European players. Real Madrid could do the same and, therefore, in one fell swoop, Xi Jin Pérez’s dream of creating a Super League that would compete with the Premier League could be fulfilled. Or, option two, sell the “more than a club” to the Saudi sovereign fund. Laporta might have to go into exile along with Putin, of course, but neither would lack comfort and compensation.