More evidence that London is the divorce capital of the world

Another Russian divorce case.

London’s status as the divorce capital of the world was enhanced by the news in July this year that Alexei Golubovich and Olga Mirimskaya have apparently issued proceedings in London’s High Court to deal with their English property, following their divorce in Russia last year. 

They are reported to be the first foreign dynasty in which two consecutive generations have sought the aid of the English courts. Their son, in fact, tried to avoid the English courts and initially succeeded by winning the "race’" to issue divorce proceedings outside England and Wales. The Court of Appeal subsequently held that his wife was entitled to commence financial proceedings here because there was a connection to England (she was living here).  

She succeeded in winning an award of just over £2.8m following a marriage of just 18 months. Commentators were critical that the decision would encourage people to move here to take advantage of the more generous divorce legislation.   

At the centre of this latest row is a mansion on Upper Mall in Chiswick alleged to be worth £6.4m. Both claim it is theirs, although it is currently registered in Mr Golubovich’s name.

In English divorce cases, it does not normally matter in whose name a property is registered. The court has the power to transfer assets from one to the other and the recent Prest case confirmed that if a third party owns property on trust for one spouse, a transfer to the other can be ordered. 

In smaller money cases a court will not normally order a transfer to a spouse if it would financially prejudice the other (e.g. an order that means one party remains liable under the other’s mortgage indefinitely, since this affects their mortgage capacity and prejudices their own ability to rehouse!).  

In cases where the matrimonial home is the largest asset and it is required to meet the needs of the spouse caring for the children, it is common to have a "Mesher" Order so that the property is sold upon specified triggering events, such as when the children attain the age of 18 years or cease full-time education. Where both parties want to retain the matrimonial home and there is sufficient money for one of them to do so, emotions inevitably run high.  

In a divorce case, the judge has the option to order a sale of property and other assets. When a couple are arguing about contents, being told that they face receiving just half the proceeds of sale of their second-hand goods and then having to replace them often leads to a pragmatic approach being adopted by both.

With property, if a sale is ordered potentially either or both of the couple can make an offer. In some cases, the issue can go to sealed bids with both (and any interested third parties) having to make offers by a certain time deadline. This can, in practice, mean one pays significantly over the odds for a property he or she particularly wants. Arguably, if the other wanted it as well, it may make losing out less of a bitter pill to swallow.  

According to press reports, the arguments being run by Mr Golubovich and Mrs Mirimskaya are that each says that it was the intention that the property would be beneficially theirs.  

Documentation will apparently show that initially the house was bought by an offshore company in 2004 and then transferred to Mrs Mirimskaya’s name in 2005.  In 2008 the house was transferred into her husband’s name, but she says it remained the common intention of both of them that she would continue to be the 100 per cent beneficial owner of the property. 

The court will no doubt want to hear the circumstances in which this 2008 transfer took place. It may become relevant that in the latter years, according to media reports, the property was occupied by Mr Golubovich, the couple’s two younger children, niece and mother-in-law, while Mrs Mirimskaya spent most of her time outside the United Kingdom.  

He will apparently insist the 2008 transfer was part of the agreed division of their assets and if the documentation confirms this, it is hard to see on what basis the court would order a transfer back, particularly given the developments with prenuptial and postnuptial agreements.  

Until more information is available about both their cases, it is impossible to predict how this one will develop. In choosing to resolve matters through court as opposed to trying mediation or collaboration, what is certain is that both will spend significant sums on legal costs. Unlike most people, they can afford to do so.  

This piece first appeared on Spear's magazine.

Kirstie Law is a partner at Thomson Snell & Passmore

Another Russian divorce in London. Photograph: Getty Images

This is a story from the team at Spears magazine.

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In the 1980s, I went to a rally where Labour Party speakers shared the stage with men in balaclavas

The links between the Labour left and Irish republicanism are worth investigating.

A spat between Jeremy Corbyn’s henchfolk and Conor McGinn, the MP for St Helens North, caught my ear the other evening. McGinn was a guest on BBC Radio 4’s Westminster Hour, and he obligingly revisited the brouhaha for the listeners at home. Apparently, following an interview in May, in which McGinn called for Corbyn to “reach out beyond his comfort zone”, he was first threatened obliquely with the sack, then asked for a retraction (which he refused to give) and finally learned – from someone in the whips’ office – that his party leader was considering phoning up McGinn’s father to whip the errant whipper-in into line. On the programme, McGinn said: “The modus operandi that he [Corbyn] and the people around him were trying to do [sic], involving my family, was to isolate and ostracise me from them and from the community I am very proud to come from – which is an Irish nationalist community in south Armagh.”

Needless to say, the Labour leader’s office has continued to deny any such thing, but while we may nurture some suspicions about his behaviour, McGinn was also indulging in a little airbrushing when he described south Armagh as an “Irish ­nationalist community”. In the most recent elections, Newry and Armagh returned three Sinn Fein members to the Northern Ireland Assembly (as against one Social Democratic and Labour Party member) and one Sinn Fein MP to Westminster. When I last looked, Sinn Fein was still a republican, rather than a nationalist, party – something that McGinn should only be too well aware of, as the paternal hand that was putatively to have been lain on him belongs to Pat McGinn, the former Sinn Fein mayor of Newry and Armagh.

According to the Irish News, a “close friend” of the McGinns poured this cold water on the mini-conflagration: “Anybody who knows the McGinn family knows that Pat is very proud of Conor and that they remain very close.” The friend went on to opine: “He [Pat McGinn] found the whole notion of Corbyn phoning him totally ridiculous – as if Pat is going to criticise his son to save Jeremy Corbyn’s face. They would laugh about it were it not so sinister.”

“Sinister” does seem the mot juste. McGinn, Jr grew up in Bessbrook during the Troubles. I visited the village in the early 1990s on assignment. The skies were full of the chattering of British army Chinooks, and there were fake road signs in the hedgerows bearing pictograms of rifles and captioned: “Sniper at work”. South Armagh had been known for years as “bandit country”. There were army watchtowers standing sentinel in the dinky, green fields and checkpoints everywhere, manned by some of the thousands of the troops who had been deployed to fight what was, in effect, a low-level counter-insurgency war. Nationalist community, my foot.

What lies beneath the Corbyn-McGinn spat is the queered problematics of the ­relationship between the far left wing of the Labour Party and physical-force Irish republicanism. I also recall, during the hunger strikes of the early 1980s, going to a “Smash the H-Blocks” rally in Kilburn, north London, at which Labour Party speakers shared the stage with representatives from Sinn Fein, some of whom wore balaclavas and dark glasses to evade the telephoto lenses of the Met’s anti-terrorist squad.

The shape-shifting relationship between the “political wing” of the IRA and the men with sniper rifles in the south Armagh bocage was always of the essence of the conflict, allowing both sides a convenient fiction around which to posture publicly and privately negotiate. In choosing to appear on platforms with people who might or might not be terrorists, Labour leftists also sprinkled a little of their stardust on themselves: the “stardust” being the implication that they, too, under the right circumstances, might be capable of violence in pursuit of their political ends.

On the far right of British politics, Her Majesty’s Government and its apparatus are referred to derisively as “state”. There were various attempts in the 1970s and 1980s by far-right groupuscules to link up with the Ulster Freedom Fighters and other loyalist paramilitary organisations in their battle against “state”. All foundered on the obvious incompetence of the fascists. The situation on the far left was different. The socialist credentials of Sinn Fein/IRA were too threadbare for genuine expressions of solidarity, but there was a sort of tacit confidence-and-supply arrangement between these factions. The Labour far left provided the republicans with the confidence that, should an appropriately radical government be elected to Westminster, “state” would withdraw from Northern Ireland. What the republicans did for the mainland militants was to cloak them in their penumbra of darkness: without needing to call down on themselves the armed might of “state”, they could imply that they were willing to take it on, should the opportunity arise.

I don’t for a second believe that Corbyn was summoning up these ghosts of the insurrectionary dead when he either did or did not threaten to phone McGinn, Sr. But his supporters need to ask themselves what they’re getting into. Their leader, if he was to have remained true to the positions that he has espoused over many years, should have refused to sit as privy counsellor upon assuming his party office, and refused all the other mummery associated with the monarchical “state”. That he didn’t do so was surely a strategic decision. Such a position would make him utterly unelectable.

The snipers may not be at work in south Armagh just now – but there are rifles out there that could yet be dug up. I wouldn’t be surprised if some in Sinn Fein knew where they are, but one thing’s for certain: Corbyn hasn’t got a clue, bloody or otherwise. 

Will Self is an author and journalist. His books include Umbrella, Shark, The Book of Dave and The Butt. He writes the Madness of Crowds and Real Meals columns for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 25 August 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Cameron: the legacy of a loser