Dmytro Yagunov: The Anatomy of the ‘Russian World’: When Illusion Becomes Vital

The most dangerous mistake is to believe that Russia’s aggression against Ukraine has a rational explanation. That it is solely a struggle for territory, resources or geopolitical influence, although, of course, all this is accompanied by territorial invasion of Ukraine, colonial advances in Africa and a constant military presence in Europe in the form of sabotage and intelligence gathering.

In reality, everything is much darker and at the same time simpler, because this is a war to escape the mirror. The ‘Russian world’ is not just an ideological doctrine. It is existential anaesthesia for millions of people who cannot objectively analyse their own lives and apply a rational assessment of the situation both in Russia and beyond its borders.

The Russian state has turned into a totally corrupt vertical structure, where each level of power is just a mechanism for extracting rent. The Russian state is governed by the laws of a ‘prison and carceral state.’ Russian culture has become a propaganda tool, and, by the way, a highly effective and efficient one.

In such a situation, people need a drug. A powerful, fast-acting drug capable of drowning out the pain of awareness. And this drug has become an aggressive war against Ukraine.

Today, we can observe a strange symbiosis between the Russian regime, the Russian elites and the Russian population. The regime and the elites lead the crowd, cemented by ‘traditional values’ and false memories of “grandfathers” who ‘protected ungrateful Europe from fascism.’ However, the Russian crowd desperately clings to the regime, because without it, they will have to face the truth.

Every missile fired at a peaceful Ukrainian city is not only murder. It is also an opportunity not to think about one’s own emptiness. Every occupied territory is not only a crime. It is also a way to convince oneself that ‘we still mean something in this world’ and ‘they still fear us.’ Every piece of fake news on a TV channel censored by the authorities is not just propaganda. It is a defence mechanism against awareness of the realities both in Russia and beyond its borders, given that probably 95 per cent of Russians have never been outside Russia, and if they have, it was only to Egypt and Turkey.

However, the price of truth is rising every day. At first, it was possible to say, ‘We were deceived.’ A year later, ‘We were wrong.’ Two years later, ‘It was a disaster, but we didn’t know.’ However, with each new crime, each new grave, each destroyed city, the price of recognition becomes unbearable.

To acknowledge the truth now means to accept that you supported genocide, that your silence killed, that your indifference was complicity, that your life was spent in a moral coma.

This is a psychologically insurmountable wall.

And only a few can express their position in the words of the song ‘You are a soldier. And no matter what war you fight in, I’m sorry, I’ll be on the other side.’

The Russian non-imperial narrative is not about strength. It is about weakness wrapped in aggression, although this does not exclude tens of thousands of innocent victims in Ukraine.

When a person cannot realise their potential on their own, they seek greatness in belonging. ‘We are a great power’ compensates for ‘I am worthless.’ ‘We have nuclear weapons’ replaces ‘I have no future.’ ‘We will defeat everyone’ drowns out ‘I have lost my life.’ This is not patriotism. It is collective neurosis, where outward aggression is a way of not looking inward.

This war cannot end with a simple military defeat of the regime. Because it is not only a project of the Kremlin — it is a psychological support for millions. As before, we repeat: “The Russian world” is not about today or yesterday. It is about five centuries of colonialism and imperialism, mixed with a prison as a model of the state. And that is why they are ready to go to the end. Not out of heroism, but out of despair. Not out of strength, but out of weakness. Not for the sake of victory, but for the sake of postponing the moment when they have to look in the mirror.

But you can be absolutely sure that after the war, in the corridors of the tribunal over Russian war criminals, there will inevitably be a replay of the dialogue from the film ‘The Nuremberg Trial of 1961’:

• ‘So you think that we all… that we all knew about it? That we wanted to kill women and children?
• ’It’s hard to believe. I don’t know what to believe anymore. You’re sitting here with me…
• “How can you assume that? That we… We knew nothing!
• I have come to the conclusion that no one in this country knew anything.
• Your husband held a high position in the army, and he knew nothing?
• He knew nothing, I assure you! It was all Himmler, Goebbels, the work of the FSB, FSK and Rosgvardia. We knew nothing.