The Kremlin’s Trojan Horse: How the Cult of ‘Afghans’ Works for Russia. Why Preserving the Soviet ‘Day of Glory’ in Ukraine is Not a Tribute to Memory But a Tool of Hybrid Warfare

Russia is methodically destroying Ukrainian cities, killing children, and employing scorched earth tactics. And on this very day, Ukraine officially honours those who participated in combat operations on the territory of other states. That is, they honour those who did exactly what Russia is doing today: invaded foreign territory, killed, burned, and occupied.

Let’s call a spade a spade. ‘Day of Honouring Participants in Combat Operations on the Territory of Other States’ is a euphemism. Let’s translate it from bureaucratic language into human language: it is a day of honouring participants in the colonial wars of the Soviet Union. The same wars that are being continued by the current Russian invasion of Ukraine.

And here is the main question that should concern every Ukrainian: who benefits from the existence of this holiday?

The answer is Moscow. Exclusively Moscow. Preserving the cult of ‘internationalist warriors’ is not harmless nostalgia. It is one of the most effective and at the same time most invisible instruments of Russian influence in Ukraine. A tool that works even now, during a full-scale war.

The mechanism is simple and cynical. As long as Ukraine has an official day to honour Soviet soldiers who fought in Afghanistan, Moscow will maintain the narrative of a ‘shared glorious history’ and a ‘brotherhood of peoples’ sealed with blood. Veterans’ organisations on both sides of the front line find themselves in the same symbolic space. A shared day. A shared memory. Identical medals. This is the almost invisible bridge between Russia and Ukraine — not as two independent states, but as a metropole and a colony that still does not dare to finally sever the umbilical cord.

Russian propaganda actively exploits this date. Every year on 15 February, the Kremlin media broadcasts reports about the ‘shared sacrifice of the Soviet peoples,’ reminding us of the ‘comradeship in arms’ that supposedly transcends political boundaries. This is a classic soft power technique: not tanks, but symbols; not missiles, but shared dates on the calendar.

For those who still have doubts, let’s ask the question directly: what was the ‘limited contingent’ doing in Afghanistan? Answer: it was waging a colonial war for spheres of influence. Period. It was not ‘fulfilling an international duty.’ It was not ‘protecting the civilian population.’ It was not ‘fighting terrorism.’ It invaded a sovereign state, overthrew its government, installed puppets, and killed those who resisted.

But 1979 is far from the beginning of the story. Soviet aggression against Afghanistan began half a century before the ‘official’ invasion — and this fact has been deliberately erased from collective memory.

April 1929. A 2,000-strong Red Army detachment under the command of Vitaly Primakov changes into Afghan uniforms, takes on fake Asian names, and invades the territory of sovereign Afghanistan. The goal was to restore a king loyal to Moscow to the throne. Recognise the pattern? The ‘little green men’ of 1929. The same methods that Russia used in Crimea in 2014: camouflage, denial, lies. The operation failed and was kept secret for decades. In documents, it was referred to as ‘the elimination of banditry in southern Turkestan’ — just as Putin would call a full-scale invasion a ‘special military operation.’

Summer 1930. A cavalry brigade under the command of Brigade Commander Melkumov crossed the Amu Darya, advanced 50–70 kilometres into Afghanistan and carried out an openly punitive operation: the villages of Ak-Tepe and Ali-Abad were burned, food supplies were destroyed, and livestock was confiscated. According to official – deliberately underestimated – data, 839 people were killed. Once again, complete secrecy.

Thus, there is a direct line of continuity between the secret invasions of 1929–1930 and the large-scale war of 1979–1989: the same methods of deception, the same motivation to control the ‘sphere of influence,’ the same disregard for foreign sovereignty, the same secrecy and lies.

Hungary in 1956. Czechoslovakia in 1968. Afghanistan in 1979. Georgia in 2008. Ukrainian Crimea in 2014. Ukrainian Donbas in 2014. Full-scale invasion in 2022. These are not isolated episodes — they are one and the same algorithm, only with different ideological camouflage. Yesterday — ‘defence of socialist conquests’ and ‘international duty’. Today — ‘defence of the Russian-speaking population’ and ‘denazification’. The essence is the same: the empire needs foreign territory, and it takes it by force.

And here is the key paradox: Ukraine, which today opposes this very imperial algorithm, continues to officially honour those who carried out this algorithm. This is not just illogical — it is dangerous. It feeds the very coordinate system in which Russia remains the ‘liberator’ and its wars ‘sacred.’

Critics will say: what about the people? What about the young men who were drafted into the army and thrown into the meat grinder? They are not to blame. They did not choose this war.

Yes, it is a tragedy. A personal tragedy for every family that has lost a son, father or brother. And no one denies the right to grief. But — and this is fundamental — individual tragedy does not make a colonial war just. Sympathy for the victims of the system does not mean honouring the system itself.

Germany does not celebrate the day the Wehrmacht withdrew from Stalingrad. France does not honour the ‘heroes’ of the Algerian War as national heroes. This does not mean a lack of sympathy for people — it means honesty about the nature of war. Ukraine deserves the same honesty.

To put this day on a par with honouring the liquidators of the Chernobyl disaster — people who sacrificed themselves to save others — is cynical. The liquidators saved lives. The ‘internationalist soldiers’ occupied. There is a gulf between these two categories.

Abolishing this holiday is not a ‘radical step.’ It is basic hygiene for national memory. It is an act of decolonisation, without which the break with imperial Russia will remain incomplete.

As long as Ukraine keeps this day on the calendar, Moscow holds a symbolic rope that ties Ukrainian memory to the Soviet past. This rope must not be untied — it must be cut.

Let’s be clear: the Soviet Union waged a series of colonial wars against Afghanistan from at least 1929 onwards. The Soviet contingent was a colonial foreign corps — no more, no less. Honouring the participants in these wars at the state level is tantamount to supporting the Russian imperial narrative at the expense of Ukrainian taxpayers.

The question ‘why does this day still exist’ is not a question for historians. It is a question for those responsible for the state’s information security. Because every year on 15 February, the Kremlin receives a free gift: Ukraine legitimises the Soviet militaristic myth with its own hands and maintains ties that should have been severed back in 2014.

The year is 2026. It is the third year of full-scale war. It is time to remove the Trojan horses from the Ukrainian calendar.