Putin’s War of Mutually-Assured Depression, From a Russian’s Own Perspective
Photo taken by Eric Pu at New York demonstrations
By Eric Pu, Alexandra Azarova
The following op-ed was written alongside fellow NYU student Alexandra Azarova, who hails from Moscow, Russia. We graciously thank the team at EDG for providing us with the outlet for such a story to be told.
I never thought that a war between Russia and Ukraine would ever actually materialize; I, like many others, foolishly believed that Putin’s threats of aggression were nothing more than an attempt to invoke fear—something that had become commonplace throughout his reign, such as with the Kerch Strait incident in 2018. Unfortunately, if recent times have taught us anything, it is that the world surely does not always operate by reason, and it is for making that mistake that we must now shoulder part of the blame.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve felt like my entire world has fallen apart. It’s not that I feel at all ashamed about being Russian—as I will explain later, the pride I hold over my heritage endures—but at the same time, I am obligated to carry a degree of responsibility for the actions of the Russian regime. Surely we should have spoken up more to prevent this from ever happening in the first place, and to spread awareness about what is happening in our incomprehensible part of the world. The onus is on us for our passivity.
And yet, the harsh reality is that I, as with all the other Russians that support democracy and peace, have no say in the matter. The civil rights and freedoms that those in the west may take for granted simply do not exist in Russia; most Americans who witnessed the widespread protests following the arrest of Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny fail to recognize the true grandeur in that moment, and the fact that no comparable degree of dissent had ever occurred previously under the Putin regime. On the contrary, not only are these sorts of demonstrations commonplace throughout the west, but participants generally do not have to contemplate the risks of being beaten and arrested.
Thus I feel obligated to make use of the privileges granted to me as a student in America, and that I cannot take this freedom of speech for granted—the least I can do is organize my thoughts onto a medium that can be shared. I dedicate this piece both for my peers in America, who seek to learn more about these immensely complicated issues, and the people back in Russia, many of whom have been hopelessly deluded by the lies of Vladimir Putin.
I think it would be best to begin by providing a foundation as to why this war is even happening in the first place, matters which have been sorely misreported throughout both American and Russian media. Firstly, I must emphasize the fact that 49% of Ukrainians have relatives in Russia, and vice versa; the peoples of these countries are interconnected, so any conflict between the two states will inevitably result in the loss of loved ones on both sides. That is what’s made this conflict so deeply depressing for me, and for many of my fellow Russians at NYU.
Following its post-Soviet depression, Ukraine had been set on a path of prosperity and liberty, partly attributed to its civil liberties—things like freedom of speech and democracy, not even a sliver of which exist in Russia. Thus, in that regard Ukraine is a nation that is fundamentally different to that of Russia. That is a truth that must be recognized: that Russia and Ukraine are two distinct, sovereign nations. The reason why I must make this point clear is because much of the Russian rhetoric, which has been used to justify this fallacious conflict, is predicated on the myth that these two nations are somehow the same. Putin’s regime has continued to perpetuate this dangerous rhetoric, that “Russians and Ukrainians were one people – a single whole,” and that they must be forcibly reintegrated. Of course, ask any Ukrainian if they believe in this, and they will understandably be appalled. The entirety of this war has been predicated on deception, and the notion that any form of armed conflict could ever have the potential of being mutually beneficial is absurd.
This brings us to current affairs, where war in Ukraine has been rationalized by the Russian state for two main reasons, both of which are founded upon vile falsehoods spread by the Putin regime. The first is that both Russians and Ukrainians in Donbas and Luhansk are being oppressed by the Ukrainian government (which is supposedly dominated by “Nazi influences”), and that this Russian aggression is somehow a form of liberation. This has been continuously illustrated throughout Russian state propaganda, which promotes the false narrative that the people of these regions are “happy” to bear witness to the arrival of foreign armed forces in their territory, misleading the Russian public into believing that this conflict comes as a blessing for the Ukrainian people. Again, I must highlight how it is fundamentally impossible for any form of warfare to benefit both parties.
The second reason is Putin’s fear that Ukraine’s intentions of joining NATO would, by some means, present an existential threat to the security of Russia, a proposition that is possibly even more baseless than the previous. Following the fall of the Soviet Union, the nations of Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania all joined this organization, each of whom share a border with Russia. In the two decades since these nations first joined NATO, they still have yet to pose any real threat to Russia, especially not to the extent that warrants invasion. As a sovereign nation, Ukraine has the right to associate with whichever foreign alliances that it so chooses. If that means allying with the west, then so be it—Russia should have absolutely no say in these matters.
This brings us to the harsh reality of this war, and the truly daft justification behind it: that if Ukraine were to join NATO, and America were to fire nuclear missiles directed towards Moscow from Ukrainian military bases rather than from its own, that Vladimir Putin would theoretically have 15 less minutes to retreat to a nuclear shelter. Those hypothetical 15 minutes serve as the sole rationalization for this war.
Unfortunately, it is profoundly difficult for any member of the Russian public to access any such truths, not only because Putin’s propaganda machine continues to proliferate its harmful narratives, but also because of the government’s intense suppression of political dissent and opposition throughout all mediums. And of course, those in the west also know strikingly little about this conflict, given that it lies so far away from their own sphere of influence.
Something that makes this conflict especially complicated for outsiders is the fact that while these two opposing governments have been framed as vehement enemies, the reality is that the Russian and Ukrainian people share so much culturally. For one, Ukraine is the leading destination for Russian emigrants, and vice versa—I, like many, many other Russians, have an abundance of friends and family who reside in Ukraine, and the same can be said for Ukrainians with relatives in Russia. That is perhaps one of the worst aspects of this conflict, the fact that so many of us have loved ones on the opposing side; as Russians, we are forced to bear witness to our government laying waste on the territory of our supposed “enemies,” where many of our closest relatives reside. Regarding my own family, my grandpa is from Kharkiv, my cousins live in Crimea, and my mom’s parents and grandparents have spent an extensive amount of time in Mariupol. As a Russian with such deep ties to the nation of Ukraine, it is downright impossible for me to be sympathetic with this farce of a war.
Recently, the Russian regime has committed several unbelievable atrocities against Ukraine, including many, many war crimes; the government said that Russia would not attack any Ukrainian civilians, and yet there are countless examples of the contrary, including attacks against residential buildings, hospitals, and even nuclear power plants. At the very least, I am quite grateful to see the extensive outpour of support for the Ukrainian people and their forces across the world, as well as the near universal condemnation from western powers. Unfortunately, this glimmer of hope has been soured by the relative inaction of these governments; rather than supporting the Ukrainian forces militarily, their responses have mostly been limited to severe economic sanctions. Although these efforts do work, as suffocating Putin’s cash flow is a definite means of limiting the strength of their attack, they simultaneously inflict adverse effects of inconceivable proportions on the Russian people.
Over the past few weeks, news headlines have been bombarded with global mega-corporations pulling out of Russia, from tech giants like Netflix and Apple to American icons like McDonald’s and Coca-Cola. At this point, it seems virtually impossible to name a single famous western brand that has yet to sever its ties to the Russian market. Although the departure of these companies may seem benign at first, the harsh reality is that millions of jobs will be directly adversely affected by these political matters. In addition, the loss of access to essential foreign goods, including airplanes and medicine, will have drastic effects on the quality of life of all Russians, possibly even leading the country towards a humanitarian crisis down the line—those who witnessed the recent deprivation of vital medical supplies in Iran should be well aware of the devastation that economic sanctions can bring to civilians.
Beyond the sale of foreign goods, the sanctions that have proven to have the most devastating impact are those pertaining to Russia’s removal from the global financial system—the infrastructure through which the entirety of the world conducts its business transactions. With the departure of SWIFT, Visa, and MasterCard, there now exists a power vacuum in the Russian financial system, an opportunity that Putin will surely capitalize upon. By introducing their own system to fill in the void, the Russian government will gain a profound degree of control over the finances of its citizens, and by extension their civil liberties. A precedent for this has already been achieved in China, and it is evident that Russia is heading towards the same path of economic despotism.
Another lesson from the Chinese government’s playbook, which the Kremlin has already employed, is the suppression of foreign-controlled social media, including banning Facebook and designating its parent company as an “extremist organization.” These acts of censorship, when coupled with the departure of entertainment services like Netflix, will play a significant role in re-kindling the cultural dichotomy between the west and Russia, installing a new Iron Curtain (ironically during an era in which digital technologies were meant to heal these divides). Severing Russians’ access to these portals to western culture will only result in people consuming more and more propaganda—the only thing that will remain on Putin’s internet in a moment’s time. Thus, the suppression of foreign digital influences will only further radicalize the Russian public, intensifying their resentment towards the rest of the world.
Stepping out of Russia for a minute, it is evident that a “cancel culture” against anything even remotely Russian has already emerged in America. Campaigns to rename the “Moscow mule” serve as nothing more than unproductive forms of virtue signaling—removing anything with even a semblance of Russian affiliation (the origins of this drink lie in Manhattan, not Russia) symbolizes the same war-time hysteria that brought us McCarthyism during the Cold War. Americans are woefully unaware that removing these miniscule links to Russian culture does nothing except harm Russians in America, many of whom vehemently oppose the Putin regime, further intensifying the cultural rift between Russia and the west.
What makes these matters especially complicated for me is the fact that I am a Russian student residing in New York, a city where supposedly all immigrants are welcome. At this moment, I must remind you all that the Russian government does not represent all of the Russian people, and that I, like many of my Russian peers at NYU, have been amongst those most vocally against this incomprehensibly brutal conflict. It was none other than the NYU Russian Culture Club that organized protests in Washington Square Park, raising funds and increasing awareness about the situation in Ukraine. And yet, it was at these same protests that I observed an alarming degree of anti-Russian rhetoric, particularly from Americans who sought to forcibly remove all Russians from their country, showing not even an ounce of remorse for the lives of those who orchestrated these events in the first place.
It is utterly depressing to hear that my family and I, who have never and will never support the disastrous rhetoric of Vladimir Putin, are burdened with the consequences of a war with which we have vehemently disagreed with from the very beginning. My heart wrenches whenever I read harsh words about how all Russian citizens are wholly deserving of all the vitriol they are receiving online, solely because they have failed in the past to revolt against their ruthless dictator. What they fail to recognize is that whenever my family went to the ballots, they would passionately tear their ballots to shreds in an effort to void them, just so that they wouldn’t be counted towards Putin. Regardless, we, the 20% of the nation that supports fair elections and freedom of speech, must still suffer the harshest of consequences, accepting the blame for a government that fails to represent us in any real capacity.
Recently, I’ve observed that many of my fellow Russians here have not only felt threatened solely because of our ethnicity, but that some have even begun to feel ashamed over their cultural origins. I wholeheartedly reject that sentiment, because it only strengthens the preposterous association between the Russian people and the heinous crimes of Vladimir Putin, something that must be destroyed. The Russian people have no obligation to accept the burden of the atrocities committed by Putin, especially given that Russians living in America most likely oppose the war to begin with. All that accepting guilt accomplishes is to project these shameless crimes onto our own selves, when in reality we have absolutely nothing to do with them in the first place. Again, I must raise the distinction that the views of the Russian government do not reflect that of all Russian people, and especially not for those who live in America.
I cannot imagine a reality in which I’d be ashamed of being Russian. The culture of my beautiful country is one of my greatest passions—I could give anyone an hour-long lecture on Russian literature—but all of these great things are being desecrated by the vile decision making of Vladimir Putin, a man whose words most definitely don’t reflect the thoughts of many of his citizens. I feel like my home has been stripped away from me; the possibilities of all the horrible things that could happen to me if I were to return to my glorious nation, whether it’s having my privilege of being able to study abroad taken away, the civil liberties that I have grown to appreciate in America vanishing, or even the prospect of being stuck there forever, have all brought me immense despair. To all the Americans reading this, or anyone else who comes from countries with foundations in democracy, I implore you to appreciate the importance of these rights, because they no longer exist in Russia. While students at NYU have the invaluable privilege of being able to criticize their own government to their heart’s content, students in Moscow are facing expulsion from their institutions over their involvement in political demonstrations. While students at NYU have the right to assemble and conduct protests on whatever topic they desire, including these very issues, students in Moscow are being arrested and beaten in the streets, just so they can have a glimmer of hope in speaking out against their atrocious regime.
It hurts deeply to watch your home country sink into an economic, cultural, and reputational depression; to be detached from the rest of the world, and to become a global embarrassment, all because of the acts of one megalomaniac who fails to represent the beliefs of me and many of my fellow Russians. It feels as if I’ve lost my own home and am forced to do nothing but sit back and watch as my beautiful nation descends into a disaster state, through a self-destructive fit of madness that will surely destroy any semblance of an economy or civil liberty. Our government is not only ruining the lives of people in Ukraine—God knows how long it will take them to recover from this—but also their very own country, and the lives of the146 million Russians who live around the world. This brings me to the one question that has kept me up at night: how can Putin possibly justify a war that harms both Russians and Ukrainians, a war of mutually-assured depression?
