Yet despite ample evidence, the German government for months was cautious in publicly attributing responsibility for the attack. Even when it finally blamed the Russian government on Dec. 4, the only retaliation it took was to expel two Russian diplomats stationed in Berlin. This minimalist approach stands in stark contrast to the prolonged international pressure campaign that the United Kingdom spearheaded after the attempted assassination of a former Russian double agent, Sergei Skripal, in England last year. Germany’s quieter response is apparently based on a desire not to exacerbate existing tensions with Russia, but it may well only worsen the situation by emboldening the Kremlin in the future.

The victim of the killing in Berlin, Zelimkhan Khangoshvili, was a Georgian citizen of Chechen descent with a long track record of fighting against the Russians and the Kremlin-backed strongman ruler of Chechnya, Ramzan Kadyrov. Moscow has claimed that Khangoshvili was involved in multiple terrorist attacks. According to the investigative journalism outlet Bellingcat, his killer turned out to have false documents issued by the same department of the Russian government that had also provided fake identities for the men accused of trying to assassinate Skripal using a powerful nerve agent. In custody, Khangoshvili’s killer, named as Vadim Sokolov in his fake passport, refused to speak to anyone but a representative of the Russian Embassy.

His true identity appears to be Vadim Krasikov, a Russian gangster—not a surprise given his distinctive tattoos. He was wanted by Russian authorities for the 2013 murder of a businessman in Moscow, but his international warrant was mysteriously dropped in 2015, at the same time that all records of his existence were even more mysteriously purged from government databases. Now, the only real question is who he was working for. The most likely possibility is the Russian Federal Security Service, or FSB, which has its own track record of hiring gangsters to murder Chechens. He also could have been hired by the Russian military intelligence agency known as the GRU, which was blamed for the Skripal operation, or by Kadyrov’s henchmen, though they tend to use fellow Chechens for their dirty work.

The German authorities investigating the case were characteristically cautious. At first, they appeared very keen to connect the killing to organized crime. As a hub of the Chechen diaspora, Berlin is also a stronghold of Chechen gangs. But these local groups do not need to hire a hitman all the way from Russia, and don’t have the ability to get government-issued fake papers.

For months, Germany refused to say much beyond acknowledging the facts of the case. Finally, the federal prosecutor’s office announced that there were “sufficient factual grounds to suggest that the killing... was carried out either on behalf of state agencies of the Russian Federation or those of the Autonomous Chechen Republic, as part of the Russian Federation.” The two Russian diplomats, thought to be undercover GRU officers, were then expelled. The Kremlin has steadfastly denied any Russian involvement.

When questioned by reporters, Chancellor Angela Merkel only said that the Russians were expelled “because we did not see Russia helping us to solve this murder.” She did not suggest that Moscow was in any way involved—a distinction that has been noticed in Russia. The conservative Tsargrad TV channel, for example, backhandedly complimented her for “showing some decency” by not blaming Russia.

The length of time it took Germany to respond so meekly has surprised and dismayed many inside and outside the country. After Skripal’s attempted murder in Salisbury, the U.K. conducted a massive behind-the-scenes diplomatic campaign that led 29 countries, from Albania to Ukraine, to expel over 150 Russian diplomats, many of whom were thought to be spies.

On one level, this may reflect a difference in British and German political cultures and legal processes. Yet it is also the result of Berlin’s conscious decision not to risk a further worsening of relations with Moscow. According to a German diplomatic source who requested anonymity to speak candidly, the controversial Nord Stream 2 gas pipeline, which is nearing completion and will substantially increase Germany’s imports of Russian natural gas, was a factor in the response to Khangoshvili’s killing. This month’s summit in Paris to discuss the war in eastern Ukraine, which Merkel attended along with Putin, was also hanging in the balance, so Berlin saw little to gain from a tougher line.

However, the impact of Germany’s lackluster response may be much more negative, serious and wide-ranging than Berlin anticipates. First of all, it undermines the strong message sent by the international outcry over Skripal’s poisoning, which came as a shocking and humiliating surprise for Moscow. As one European diplomat based there told me at the time, “This is something they can’t shrug off, and can’t retaliate in kind.”

After all, Russia’s intelligence activities, from political meddling to outright assassination, had never triggered such solidarity in the past. The result of that backlash was a frenzied internal debate in Moscow: Was this a one-off setback—the result of able British diplomacy and a bandwagon effect—or the new normal? A much less permissive environment would inevitably raise the costs of Russian operations in the West.

While it is highly unlikely that the Khangoshvili operation was launched specifically to gauge the degree of Western—and above all, European—resolve, it has nonetheless been viewed in Moscow as a test case. For now, the Russians appear cautiously optimistic that Salisbury was a specific situation, and they can return to business as usual.

This matters to Moscow. Angered by perceived dismissals of its claims to global leadership and fearful of potential attempts to undermine it, Putin’s Kremlin has turned to waging a kind of “political war”—a mix of pushy diplomacy, covert subversion and military posturing aimed at dividing and demoralizing the West.

Having missed the initial opportunity to rebuke Moscow in a way that might deter it, Berlin now has few credible options. It could expel more and higher-ranking diplomats, but this probably would not have a serious impact. It would essentially be a symbolic move, and while symbolism has power in politics, in this case it would be more likely to communicate a failure of imagination and lack of alternatives.

The only meaningful unilateral economic punishment it could impose would be on Nord Stream 2. Not only would this damage powerful German business interests, it would represent a serious loss of face. The project has become a strong symbol of Germany’s refusal to submit to U.S. pressure, as Merkel has steadfastly rejected President Donald Trump’s admonishments that the pipeline would turn Germany into a “hostage” of Russia. Holding up Nord Stream 2 now, particularly after the U.S. Congress just approved new sanctions on companies involved in its construction, would effectively be an admission that the Americans had been right all along.

The only truly effective option would be, as the British did, to seek to internationalize the response. There is no evidence, however, that Berlin has the intention or the appetite to make such a move. Thus, from the Kremlin’s point of view, Khangoshvili’s killing seems to have been a successful operation—one that may presage more breaches of international norms in the future.

****Mark Galeotti is a senior associate fellow at the Royal United Services Institute and a non-resident senior fellow with the Institute of International Affairs in Prague. His most recent books are “The Vory: Russia’s Super Mafia,” “Russian Political War,” and “We Need to Talk About Putin: Why the West Gets Him Wrong, and how to Get Him Right.” You can follow him on Twitter @MarkGaleotti.