Florida drag queen says DeSantis-backed anti-LGBTQ laws are 'exactly what we were taught about in schools about how the Nazis rose to power'

Chris Panella
Mar 17, 2023

Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis. 

Paul Hennessy/SOPA Images/LightRocket via Getty Images


A Florida drag queen compared legislation targeting LGBTQ issues backed by Gov. Ron DeSantis to Nazis.

Other drag queens and local politicians called the administration's efforts "fascism."

The state recently moved to revoke the liquor license of a hotel that hosted a drag show.

Florida drag queens compared recent moves by state Republican lawmakers targeting their performances — including Gov. Ron DeSantis' administration's efforts to revoke the liquor license of a hotel that hosted a drag show — to Nazis in the 1930s.

"It's fascism, it's complete and total, unregulated, fascism. and they're just doing whatever they want and it's so dangerous and so scary," drag performer Mr Ms Adrien — who asked to go by their stage name — told Insider.

DeSantis' administration moved to pull the Hyatt Regency Miami's liquor license after one of its partner facilities hosted a drag queen Christmas show where some children were in attendance.

In a previous statement to Insider, DeSantis' press secretary Bryan Griffin told Insider that the governor "stands up for the innocence of children in the classroom and throughout Florida."

But advocates like Equality Florida say the incident is an example of the DeSantis administration "selectively weaponizing state agencies" to target drag performers and venues that are not harmful for children.

And Chris Caputo, a city commissioner in Wilton Manors, Florida who has spoken in support of LGBTQ issues, said the current situation reminds him of "Nazi Germany."

"This governor and the current Republican administration are succeeding by marginalizing groups and tearing them off."

Florida doesn't feel like home, one drag queen said

Adrien, who was born and raised in South Florida, is now an Orlando-based drag queen and said recent anti-LGBTQ political shifts make the state feel like it's no longer home.

Specifically, Adrien said ongoing narratives about drag shows and minors, like the complaint against the Hyatt Regency Miami on Tuesday, are "trying to paint a picture that just isn't real ... It's a fake narrative."

They also cited recent and proposed legislation — including an education bill dubbed by critics as "Don't Say Gay" that limits how topics like gender are discussed in classrooms — as examples of what they called dangerous power grabs.

"It's exactly what we were taught about in schools about how the Nazis rose to power," Adrien said. "Textbook, bullet point for bullet point."

DeSantis' office did not immediately respond to Insider's request for comment on the criticism.

A drag photoshoot of Mr Ms Adrien. 

Mr Ms Adrien

Adrien said that while they've faced hate and harassment before, there are newer concerns about people attending drag shows undercover to take pictures and videos that, out of context or falsely edited, could be used against queens.

The environment in the state is increasingly hostile, they said.

'Those safe spaces will go away'

Jason DeShazo is president of Rose Dynasty Foundation Inc. and performs as drag queen Momma Ashley Rose.

Rose Dynasty Foundation is a non-profit "whose mission is to provide a safe and family-friendly atmosphere for all people no matter their gender, race, sexual orientation, and/or religion," according to the website.

Their drag brunches, as documented by NBC News, have welcomed children and families.

But after DeSantis' move to revoke liquor licenses at the Hyatt Regency and two other locations, drag performers like DeShazo's group and Adrien could face difficulty finding work.

DeShazo called the efforts "a witch hunt" and fears the legislation and efforts to limit drag could prevent LGBTQ kids from finding communities to support them.

"This could very well change the way our whole organization is ran, if we can even function as an organization," DeShazo said. "Those safe spaces will go away."

Rose Dynasty Foundation Inc. holding performance art drag event. Amy Drefke/Jason DeShazo

According to both DeShazo and Adrien, the economic effects of Florida's rhetoric is already being felt: venues are concerned about their performances' content, shows have been canceled, and queens have dropped out of events out because of fears of public backlash.

Adrien said it's hitting drag queen's wallets.

"They want us to be broke and they want everyone to be afraid of us," they said.

A huge multi-colored flag flies over Ocean Drive as people participate in the Pride Parade, during the Miami Beach Pride Festival, in Lummus Park, South Beach, Florida on September 19, 2021. GIORGIO VIERA/AFP via Getty Images

Despite concerns, advocates are still protesting.

Caputo is currently helping organize "March in Heels," a "protest to address Florida HB 1011 and other anti-LGBTQ+ legislation in Florida," according to the event's Facebook page.

HB 1011 would restrict what types of flags government buildings can fly, preventing the display of LGBTQ+ flags, pride flags, and other flags not specified in the bill.

And both drag queens say they'll still perform. DeShazo said he made a promise to families and children that he would fight against legislation and restrictions. Adrien said they do drag out of love and won't give up on it.

"I don't think it's in my nature to give up," they said. "Because giving up, to me, would be rolling over dead."

BEST DAMN MACHINEGUN EVER
Russia-Ukraine war: Ancient 19th-century machine gun keeps Vladimir Putin’s troops at bay

SO SAID MY FATHER IN LAW

Daily Telegraph UK
By: Dominic Nicholls , Joe Barnes and Verity Bowman
17 Mar, 2023 


A Maxim machine gun at a Ukrainian firing point. Photo / BBC screengrab

Ukrainian troops are using a machine gun first deployed in the 19th century as they fight back “human waves” of Russian troops on the front lines of Bakhmut.

Soldiers in bunkers are firing Maxim machine guns, more usually associated with the colonial era and World War I, amid shortages of modern weaponry.

The Maxim has “120 years of history killing Russians”, a soldier manning a firing position told the BBC, adding: “It’s a weapon from the first World War being used in the third World War.”

The Maxim, a recoil-operated machine gun, was invented in 1884 by Hiram Stevens Maxim. It is credited as being the first fully automatic machine gun in the world.

Firing at a rate of 600 rounds per minute, it has to be water-cooled, adding considerable weight. It is, however, able to sustain its rate of fire far longer than air-cooled guns.

Vladislav, 27, told the Telegraph: “I have seen Maxim machine guns in stationary positions many times. Despite their age, it is a rather formidable weapon - the main thing is not to forget to add some water.

“The only drawback is its weight, but it shows itself stoically in constant firing. The Maxim is a fairly effective weapon in capable hands. It needs care so that it does not wedge, and works as smoothly as a clock.”

On Friday, the British Defence Intelligence department of the Ministry of Defence said that in recent days, Russian troops and fighters with the Wagner mercenary group have obtained footholds west of the Bakhmutka River in the centre of Bakhmut.

In recent weeks, the river has marked the front line as Russian and Ukrainian forces clash over the Donbas city, with Ukrainian forces continuing to defend its west.

Russian sources say the fighting in Bakhmut has reached an industrial estate on the outskirts of the city, close to the final supply route for Ukrainian troops.

“Wagner fighters are pushing the enemy simultaneously in the northern and southern parts of the city,” Rybar, an authoritative Russian military blogger, wrote on the Telegram messaging app. “Street battles are taking place in the industrial zone and near the industrial college.”

The industrial college sits close to the highway between Bakhmut and Chasiv Yar, considered the last Ukrainian-held road in and out of the besieged city.

If Russian forces seize control of the road, the remaining Ukrainian troops inside Bakhmut could become encircled and cut off from crucial supplies or an escape route. The Telegraph could not immediately verify the claims.

More broadly across the front line, Russian attacks have slowed to their lowest levels for weeks, likely to be because of shortages of ammunition, manpower and equipment.

On Wednesday, Colonel Oleksiy Dmytrashkivskyi, a spokesman for Ukrainian forces in the south of the country around Kherson, said daily Russian ground attacks had decreased from around 100 to around 30. In the Bakhmut region, Ukraine estimates that for every soldier it loses, the Russians have seven killed.

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky met top military advisers this week and decided to continue supporting the defence of the city, despite the high casualty rate.

Kyiv is seeking to buy time to build up a “combined arms” force of tanks, infantry and other military capabilities so as to be better able to conduct a counter-offensive once the ground dries out.

Nazar, 29, a soldier in the 10th Separate Mountain Assault Brigade, told the Telegraph: “I am still fighting where I was weeks ago. There are dead and wounded, and everything is as usual. Nothing changes. They attack, we defend ourselves. We are trapped in swamps, shelling, death.

“The fact is that everywhere, everything is according to the book - there are no such heroic feats as there were before. We are on the defensive while people are dying.”

Ukraine's troops fight off 'massive' Russian attacks in Bakhmut with World War I-era machine guns and sniper traps

John Haltiwanger
Mar 17, 2023

A Maxim machine gun in position near Kharkiv, Ukraine. 

Mykhaylo Palinchak

Ukraine has used a WWI-era machine gun on the front line to mow down the enemy.
"It only works when there is a massive attack going on," a Ukrainian soldier told BBC News.

The brutal fighting in Ukraine, filled with trenches and heavy casualties, has frequently been compared to WWI.

Ukrainian forces have used Maxim machine guns, a weapon often associated with World War I, to mow down frontal assaults by Russian troops in the battle for Bakhmut.

"It only works when there is a massive attack going on," a Ukrainian soldier identified as Borys, 48, recently told BBC News of the Maxim gun. "Then it really works."

"We use it every week," Borys added.

Ukrainian forces have found the Maxim M1910 — was first introduced in 1910 (the initial version of the gun emerged in the 1880s) and employed by the Imperial Russian Army during World War I — useful in the fight against the Russians. Ukraine's troops have modified the guns with modern add-ons such as optics and suppressors, according to reporting from Task and Purpose.

Hiram Maxim, a key inventor of portable machine guns in the 19th Century, used the recoil force of a bullet to eject its cartridge and feed the next round in from an ammunition belt.

The fighting in Ukraine has repeatedly garnered parallels to World War I, with both sides locked in a brutal war of attrition featuring trenches, relentless artillery barrages, and heavy casualties. In this environment, even some of the weapons of that era have come in handy as Ukrainian troops face human wave attacks on the front line — tactics common to World War I.

Ukraine has also apparently utilized a type of World War I-era sniper decoy, employing dummies meant to fool enemy snipers.

But while the fight in Ukraine might have similarities to World War I, the modern weaponry and surveillance also prevalent on the battlefield — particularly drones — have made it all the more deadly by giving troops few places to hide.

The Ukraine war has essentially become "World War I with 21st century ISR [Intelligence, Surveillance and Reconnaissance]," Mark Cancian, a retired US Marine Corps colonel and senior adviser at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, told Insider in January.

Ownership and serfdom

Vladislav Inozemtsev on the political passivity of super-rich Russians

Читать на русском
By Vladislav Inozemtsev

10 March 2023

Photo: Scanpix

About fifteen years ago, when President Putin’s geopolitical plans were still at the incubation stage, developments in the Russian market economy were bringing almost unthinkable profits to the ‘shock workers of capitalist labour’. Forbes 2008 ranking of dollar billionaires included 87 Russians (out of the total of 1,125 people), with four of them in the Top 20 of the global ‘table of ranks’. The acquired property—as Western liberals claimed—was expressed through freedom. The press was full of reports about the chateaus, planes, yachts and works of art those billionaires bought, and their the unbridled revelry in Courchevel or parties in London. The ‘New Russians’ were also the youngest cohort of the global business elite: their average age was 46. However, Russia, which ‘has risen from its knees’, tossed its former idols in the mud after a fairly short time: today, the wealthiest Russian comes 87th in the global ranking, and the combined wealth of the 20 wealthiest Russians falls substantially behind the wealth held by Elon Musk alone. However, most importantly, ownership of property has brought serfdom rather than freedom to all the super-rich Russians: they mistakenly considered themselves to be part of the global jet set. Nowadays, in the eyes of the West, they are citizens of a criminal country and accomplices of its fascist leader, which is why they are losing foreign assets en masse and are forced to move back to Russia.

The war in Ukraine and sanctions against the wealthiest Russians have resulted in huge financial losses (according to some estimates, the value of their assets has shrunk by even USD 54bn, while the amount of frozen assets and seized property in foreign jurisdictions stands at USD 30−35bn). (In this context, we can mention, in particular, the loss of such expensive items as the USD 440 million Sailing Yacht A and the $ 300 million Amadea owned by A. Melnichenko and S. Kerimov respectively). More importantly, however, the property that still remains in their hands has acquired a new status.

It should be noted that Russian business has understood the consequences of Putin’s war quickly and correctly. As leading Russian businessmen were respectfully listening to the President in the Kremlin on the evening of 24 February, their private jets were warming their engines up in the Vnukovo‑3 airport. However, the swift exodus was short-lived (according to various sources, almost half of the Forbes Club members left Russia in the first 48 hours after the start of hostilities against Ukraine ): in the months that followed, at least 70 Russian billionaires (including all members of the ill-fated meeting between the President and leading members of the Russian Union of Industrialists and Entrepreneurs) found themselves under EU, US and UK sanctions and some, such as A. Rotenberg, K. Malofeev, A. Miller and A. Akimov, have been on the ‘stop lists’ since 2014−2016. And even though the inclusion on the sanctions lists did not lead to deportation (some Russians are still living in the jurisdictions that put them on those lists, e.g. M. Fridman in the UK), major businessmen quickly realised that their assets in the West did not represent the majority of their wealth, and, on the other hand, very rarely generated steady income. This is why, starting from April and May 2022, the ‘relocated people’, faced with an uninspiring perspective of ‘gulping the dust’ in European courts, have been returning to Russia to sort out their business and to keep competitors out of budgetary streams and public procurement deals.

As a result, one year after the outbreak of war, we can state that Putin has ‘nationalised the elites’ more successfully in the past twelve months than in the preceding eleven years. We can identify three ‘groups of comrades’ by their location and behaviour and cannot but conclude that Russian business has proved to be a no less solid foundation for the regime than, for example, the security forces, with loyalty being based on the ‘feeding hand’ in both cases.

The main (and by far the largest) group comprises those who quickly ‘realised’ the malignancy of their fascination with Europe. If we take the 2021 Forbes list as a reference point, we will see that around 40−50 of the top 100 people are staying within Russia nowadays. They continue to ‘work constructively’ in the country, although many of them have left their posts as managers or board members of their companies since their formal participation in asset management makes the business of their respective companies very difficult (this factor can be ignored only by openly criminalised businesses, such as A. Tkachev’s Agrokomplex; the latter does not even shy away from seizing land in the occupied regions of Ukraine). Some of these entrepreneurs hastily got rid of a significant proportion of their assets by transferring them to their children (like R. Abramovich) or wives (like V. Mordashov, head of Severstal, and D. Melnichenko, head of EuroChem), or by announcing ‘retirement’ (as A. Usmanov did, to observers’ surprise). However, one can confidently assert that Russia’s business elites have been radically ‘nationalised’ now: the share of their assets located in the Russian Federation has gone up, increasing their dependence on the country’s authorities. Many people, with V. Potanin being the leader here, have been actively involved in buying up the assets of foreign companies that have left Russia, while arguing how wretched the confiscation was. Most businessmen, meanwhile, are passively watching the developments, meekly pay the rising taxes, visibly participating in import-substitution programmes and working in all sorts of commissions to support economic sustainability in wartime. Now, the South has become an alternative to the West: wealthy Russians are buying up property in United Arab Emirates, Israel and Turkey, but no longer set their sights on foreign countries as a primary place of residence (even the long-time resident of Switzerland and newly minted UAE citizen D. Melnichenko has recently returned to Moscow).

Nevertheless, some businessmen, even the richest ones, have chosen to leave the country while preserving Russian assets, keeping quiet about the events in their homeland and, most importantly, keeping the public information of their whereabouts at a minimum. Among them is, for example, M. Prokhorov, who departed for an unknown destination after the start of the war, probably managed to obtain an Israeli passport, following which news of him has practically dried up. That said, it is important to note that this former presidential candidate remains Russia’s richest citizen, not subject to any sanctions, and his beautiful yacht, the Palladium, has lately been sailing various between ports on the west coast of Central America. A similar tactic has been applied by many less significant businessmen who have not been put on the European or US sanctions lists and now prefer to spend most of their time abroad, in complete loyalty to the Russian authorities. At the same time, this group of businessmen is constantly at risk of sanctions, as Ukraine has included all Russians from Forbes list into its lists, including not only M. Prokhorov, but also R. Abramovich, who participated in the negotiations with Russia, seizing and confiscating the assets of many businessmen who have not faced any claims from Western countries. For example, the construction materials production facilities have been built from scratch in recent years by the Russian LSR group, controlled by A. Molchanov. Kyiv, on the other hand, constantly urges the West to use the sanctions lists compiled by Ukraine, which are more extensive than any other lists at the moment.

Finally, the third group, very small at that, includes entrepreneurs who have decided not to return to Russia, even though they own large businesses in the country. Among them, not surprisingly, are the owners of Alfa Group, M. Fridman and P. Aven. Several years ago, Forbes called Alfa to be the most ‘internationalised’ Russian financial group, based on the extremely high share of foreign assets in the total wealth of its beneficiaries. For various reasons, some people are quite openly living outside Russia, among them O. Tinkoff, the founder and former owner of Tinkoff Bank, G. Volozh, a major shareholder in Yandex, and A. Mamut, owner of a diversified asset portfolio (we can also add A. Usmanov, who has now settled in Tashkent). Some businessmen, including Yu. Milner and N. Storonsky, have even renounced their Russian citizenship. Many of these businessmen are under Western sanctions, and they are all striving to challenge sanctions decisions and have been involved in ongoing litigation with the European authorities, attempting to prove their non-involvement in Russian aggression (which the Kremlin is unlikely to be enthusiastic about). Notably, even though many oligarchs have returned to Russia, more than 60 people are suing the European authorities over the personal sanctions that have been imposed on them, and, according to European lawyers, many of these lawsuits are not hopeless.

According to rough estimates, entrepreneurs who accounted for less than 10% of the assets cumulatively controlled by Russian billionaires when the war started in Ukraine, have physically left Russia for the long term over the course of 2022. This is because in a country not based on the rule of law, property becomes the foundation of serfdom rather than freedom: having spent years building business empires, people become hostages to them, and are prepared to go to great lengths to preserve what they have accumulated. The Kremlin is now brilliantly using this lever to defeat even the most unshakable tenets of economic liberalism in its policies. Moreover, the sanctions policy pursued by Western countries cannot be neglected as it has helped to ‘squeeze out’ the oligarchs back into Russia, and their assets have been massively re-registered from foreign jurisdictions to their homeland. The sanctions, based on how they were imposed, have helped to consolidate Russian business around the Kremlin and particularly punish those who, for many years, have sought to conform to Western standards of business transparency while they have not affected the ‘autochthonous’ Russian thugs who are also in substantial contradiction with the basic tenets of the Western legal system. The rule of law is based on the assumption that the law must have universal validity, which is why sanctions against individual countries, industries and/or export and import positions are fully acceptable, while restrictive measures against specific individuals cannot be imposed except by court decision, with all the elements of adversarial prosecution and defence (in contrast, sanction measures are introduced by the executive branch of power, i.e. not even by parliaments). In other words, I would venture to say that two voluntaristic systems have collided, oddly enough, in the field of personal sanctions against Russian entrepreneurs and the conflict resulted in the ‘repatriation’ of businesses into their original environment.

The last question that often comes up when assessing the fates of the Russian business elites is whether they might try to regain their long lost political power in Russia (after all, everyone remembers how entrepreneurs often rules to the Kremlin in the ‘turbulent 1990s’). I would say that despite demonstrating full loyalty to Vladimir Putin, large Russian businesses will never forgive him the ordeal that they had to undergo in recent years. Huge efforts undertaken to ensure integration into the international business environment turned out to be in vain. The hopes that Russian assets could be protected by staying in Western jurisdictions have been dashed. At the moment, none of the big businessmen is ready to condemn Putin’s policy actively (it is noteworthy that O. Deripaska, M. Fridman and D. Melnichenko have criticised the war during its first weeks, while only O. Tinkov has spoken out against the aggression more consistently). However, if the regime turns out to be unstable, it is doubtful whether business will be able to consolidate against the security forces (siloviki) and the turbo-patriots, and provide genuine support for politicians who are more tolerant of the outside world (whether Alexei Navalny or others). In other words, the business world could give a push to the pendulum which has been moving Russia between isolationism and openness to the world for almost two centuries by swinging it towards a new collaboration with the West. And, obviously, this will not happen tomorrow.

By Vladislav Inozemtsev
Director, Centre for Post-Industrial Studies (Moscow).

Satellites of stagnation

Pavel Luzin discusses Russia’s military space programme during wartime

Читать на русском
By Pavel Luzin

15 March 2023

Photo: Scanpix

Russia’s full-scale war against Ukraine has been going on for a year now, and the Russian army’s space systems have not been given sufficient attention during this period. At the same time, we see that Ukrainian armed forces are using commercial satellite services from SpaceX, Planet Labs, Maxar and ICEYE for communication and operational target detection. Paradoxically, in doing so, they have a qualitative advantage over Russia, which has more than 160 satellites in orbit, of which more than 100 are military. This new role of commercial systems as well as their architecture has already outlined the prospect for the USA to rethink its approach to space reconnaissance. Meanwhile, both belligerent armies use the commercial GPS signal for navigation, even though the Russian army has its own GLONASS satellites. Hence, it is a good moment to assess the status of the Russian military space programme, with characteristic trends within it, as of early 2023.

Is there growth in financing?

Almost three years ago, I already made an attempt to estimate Russia’s expenditures on military activities in outer space towards the late 2010s. At that time, according to a conservative estimate, the figure exceeded 100bn roubles (about USD 1.6bn) a year. Of these, approximately 30bn roubles (about USD 400−430m) went to GLONASS, 6−10bn roubles (USD 100−150m) to the Plesetsk military space launching site, and over 60bn roubles (about USD 1bn) to other military projects in outer space. We can increase these estimates by adding some amount for the maintenance and development of other ground infrastructure such as space control systems.

One should expect an increase in spending in this sphere taking into account, for example, that Russia has a shortage of intelligence satellites and that it has announced an increase in funding for the GLONASS programme: 480bn roubles for 2021−2030 (approx. USD 6.5bn at the 2021 average exchange rate). In comparison, the GLONASS programme for 2012−2020 cost almost 270bn roubles (USD 5bn). In practice, however, there has not been an increase in funding for military space effort despite major changes in the budget planning structure.

Following a change in the management of state programmes in 2021, the funding for military space activities turned out to be partly embedded into the federal space programme (which had previously funded only civilian space activities), the spaceport development programme, as well as federal projects aiming to modernise the space industry and to sustain GLONASS. In addition, it is likely that part of the funding for the federal Sphere project, dedicated to the comprehensive advancement of space information technology, has been also allocated for military purposes. Otherwise, there is no explanation as to why the Deputy Prime Minister, who is also a minister in the Russian government, says that Sphere involves 7bn roubles of annual spending in 2022−2024, while the amounts allocated to this project during these three years have reached 14 bn, 17.7 bn and 18.6 bn roubles respectively.

All these items, taken together, produce an expenditure figure corresponding to 100bn roubles per year (or slightly higher). The total expenses on the state-operated Russia Space Programme, including all target programmes and projects in this field till 2023, steadily exceeded the initial budgetary plan by 50−60bn roubles, totalling 251−264bn roubles a year. This surplus can also be considered as an indicator of the sums spent on purely military satellite constellations in addition to GLONASS. Starting from this year, they are planned at this level right from the outset (which will continue into 2025). Accordingly, if a serious increase in spending on military space activities does occur in 2023, it will not become apparent until autumn. Assuming, of course, that access to data is not completely barred by that time.

Military satellite constellations

Today, Russian military satellites orbiting the Earth include 25 GLONASS satellites, 47 communications satellites, 6 satellites of the ECS missile warning system, 7 satellites of the Liana marine electronic reconnaissance system, 3 Bars-M topographic satellites, 2 radar-location satellites, 2 Persona optical reconnaissance satellites and several experimental devices or technology demonstrators. However, three attempts to launch a new generation of optical reconnaissance satellites in 2021−2022 were unsuccessful, and each of the launched satellites quickly became unserviceable.

Throughout recent years, Russia has tried to increase its space surveillance capabilities. Thus, compared to the spring of 2020, the number of missile warning satellites has increased by three, and three Liana satellites were added, including one Pion-NCS with active radar, and one Neutron radar-location satellite, in addition to the Condor satellite launched back in 2013. Nevertheless, some obvious overstretching and inertia in goal-setting are visible.

For example, the deployment of the ECS system is still not completed: to achieve global coverage, the entire system must consist of 10 elements, and its full deployment was scheduled for completion by 2022. Against the background of Russia’s network of ground-based, long-range detection radars virtually all along its perimeter, the ECS is redundant as a way to provide nuclear deterrence. In the worst case scenario, purely hypothetical, the available radars should be able to detect missiles and warheads located several thousand kilometres away—this is enough for the so-called ‘retaliatory strike’ and for the operation of a missile defence system around Moscow.

However, such a satellite system is necessary for an advanced missile defence system deployed not only around the capital city. The problem is that Russia does not have such a system today, either. A practical test of an anti-missile interceptor targeting an old Soviet satellite in late 2021 is only part of a large and costly programme that is now hardly feasible for Russia after it has started a full-scale war. Whether or not it was necessary for such a programme to have emerged is a separate question, beyond the scope of this article. However, it turns out that the ECS seems to exist largely because the USSR used to have a similar system.

Almost the same applies to Liana. A separate maritime electronic reconnaissance system only makes sense in the logic of the country getting ready to confront leading maritime powers such as the USA, the UK and China. However, given that Russia is not a major maritime power in terms of conventional forces, and will certainly not become one in the foreseeable future, the objective value of the information supplied by Liana seems dubious. Moreover, even the hypothetical use of Liana to use torpedoes and cruise missiles on submarines to target US aircraft carriers is based on the assumption of a possible war between Russia and NATO. Indeed, such a task seems absurd for an economically, demographically and technologically weak country.

And even if we consider the Kremlin’s military plans regarding Ukraine, we can see that Russia has spent a decade on something that simply has no use and is unlikely to become useful in practice. In addition, it has not addressed the need to create space surveillance systems that would be suitable for the land army. The Ukrainian army can use commercial systems to obtain images of any area in high detail at least twice a day in favourable weather conditions, whereas the Russian army can get an image of the same area approximately once in two weeks. We should also add that the existing Russian satellites provide seriously inferior quality of imagery vis-à-vis American and European commercial satellites.

At the same time, Russia is going to great lengths to preserve the GLONASS system. In 2022, two new-generation GLONASS-K navigation satellites were launched into orbit and the last spare GLONASS‑M satellite from the previous generation was also launched. Meanwhile, three satellites were removed from the system in the same year. All in all, 14 out of 25 satellites are out of date (sometimes serving more than twice their useful life) and this number will only grow in the next few years. According to the officially declared plans, up to 15 GLONASS-K satellites were to be launched during 2022−2030, but this will not replace all the retired satellites anyway. Furthermore, it is not certain whether the architecture of the entire GLONASS system can actually be changed thanks to addition of high-orbit satellites for the sake of navigation in and around Russia using a smaller number of such devices. Similarly unclear are the prospects of a possible transition of GLONASS to small, low-orbit navigation satellites modelled on China’s Beidou, which would make the system cheaper.

One year of war has also shown that the Russian army has serious problems with space communications, despite 47 military satellites (formally 52 in March 2020) and the possibility to use the state civilian satellite systems Gonets and Express, as well as Gazprom’s satellite communications system. The main reason underlying these problems is not clear. Possibly, this is due to the low quality and poor condition of most military satellites, except for the four Blagovest satellites which have been built with European components. There is also more certainty that there are problems with the ground equipment as well as errors in the architecture of the communications and control system of the Russian troops.

Nevertheless, it is worth bearing in mind that the stalemate in the development of civilian satellite communications systems since the beginning of the war will also have a major impact on Russia’s military programme. Even the latest plans to multiply satellite production in the country are unlikely to reverse the situation in any serious way: there is even less certainty here than with the future of GLONASS.

Ultimately, even if spending on the military space programme increases in 2023 (and there are no signs of this yet), there is no reason to believe that it can become more effective without a radical effort to reengineer its entire structure. Moreover, its key idea, i.e. the confrontation with the USA and NATO, has been slowing the programme in recent years, leading to dissipation of resources. And yet, this idea cannot be abandoned before the end of Russia’s war against Ukraine, and before a thorough revision of the entire system of power in the country, together with its priorities in foreign policy and the military sphere.

By Pavel Luzin
Specialist in international relations, expert on the Russian Armed Forces. Political scientist (PhD).

Russia’s leverage in Moldova

Denis Cenusa assesses three main non-military vectors that pose a threat to Moldovan national security

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By Denis Cenusa

21 February 2023

Photo: Scanpix

Since Russia’s Ukraine invasion began in February 2022, Moldova’s security has been under extra strain. There are many vulnerabilities that Russia can exploit there, spanning from energy supplies to guaranteeing public order. And Moldova was all too aware of this before Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky public warned Moldova from Brussels on February 9 about Russia’s intention to carry out subversive actions there.

Zelensky is not the first to see Moldova as a Russian target, a perception that has its grains of truth. However, such views require more nuance. It is not easy to say how much the ongoing tension in Moldova has been the result of direct Russian pressure, or simply collateral damage due to Moldova’s economic interconnectedness with Ukraine. Understanding that balance is of key importance to explain the baseline risks and novel types of threats that Moldova now faces.

The return of old threats

The harsh reality is that Moldova now has multiple crises on its hands. Fuelling its political implosion are a legacy of poor governance and low living standards, compounded by supply chains severed by months of war. Chisinău’s relations with its Russia-backed breakaway region of Transnistria have reached new lows, while its electricity sources are intertwined with Ukraine’s war torn grid and its gas supply requires Russian goodwill. The country has, meanwhile, also been struggling to house and feed tens of thousands of refugees pouring in from Ukraine.

Considering how other countries are feeling a deep impact from this war too, it should come as no surprise that Moldova is easy collateral damage. However, this does not mean that Russia is not interested in exploiting the situation further. To do this, hybrid warfare is being used, much of which is familiar to local observers. Russia is using hybrid warfare to undermine the positions of pro-EU forces in a way that is tailored to the idiosyncrasies of the local Moldovan context. Russian strategy follows three main vectors: 1) internal power struggles and personal-political survival instincts; 2) the impoverishing effects of the energy crisis; and 3) the distorted public perception of Russia’s aggression against Ukraine.

Domestic power dynamics and political-personal survival

First of all, Russia tries to weaponize internal political animosities. Pro-Russian populist forces, made up of fugitive oligarchs and organized criminal groups, are seeking to regain power or simply avoid jail. Their interest in hampering the fight against corruption by pro-EU forces at all costs overlaps with Russian interests in weakening the Western-oriented government.

The most feared pro-Russian political force in Moldova is the Șor Party. The leader of this party, Ilan Șor, is currently hiding in Israel from Moldovan justice. The court had sentenced Ilan Șor to 7 years in prison for his involvement in a 2014 bank fraud where billions of euros went missing; but the final decision is still pending due to judicial and bureaucratic bottlenecks since 2017. Șor’s partner is considered to be the fugitive oligarch Vladimir Plahotniuc, who allegedly found refuge in Northern Cyprus. Then again, the aggressive anti-Russian policy used by Plahotniuc during his political reign in Moldova (2015−2019) makes him quite incompatible with current Russian plans in Moldova.

In October 2022, the US designated sanctions on Șor for his and his own party’s involvement in supporting Russian malign influence in Moldova. The Moldovan authorities did not so far report on the efficiency of preventing the flow of money from offshore jurisdictions or through crypto platforms to facilitators in Moldova. Yet despite US sanctions, Șor manages to be active on social media, where he has more than 100,000 followers. Meta-owned Facebook was slow to block Șor’s political ads inviting people to join the anti-government protest on February 19.

The ruling party is seeking to ban Ilan Șor’s party, which has more than 10% of public approval. This will not solve much of the problem for the government because there are other pro-Russian forces in parliament, such as the Bloc of Socialists and Communists, which have gained popularity in the face of public criticism of the government’s handling of the energy and socioeconomic crises rippling through Moldova.

Impoverishing effects of the energy crisis

The deteriorating living conditions of the population, exacerbated by the energy crisis, is an important ingredient of instability in Moldova. The impact of inflation of approximately 30% on average in 2022 is due to the increase in electricity and gas rates, which oscillate between 5 and 7 times, respectively. These shocks were understood differently by the population depending on their political opinions and the information they consume.

The pro-government segments tolerated the socioeconomic decline; others were galvanized by it and did not accept the geopolitical causes, particularly the destructiveness of the Russian factor invoked by the ruling elites. Moldova managed to remain governable thanks to loans and grants worth up to € 250 million from the EU and other international partners to pay up to half of energy bills. However, the majority of the population is still feeling the socio-economic consequences in 2023.

The optimistic forecasts of the Moldovan Central Banks about the stabilization of prices below 20% annual inflation in 2023 do not help either. This creates a perfect ground for the justified public discontent that is being used by pro-Russian forces to undermine the legitimacy of the central authorities. With a higher incidence of poverty, socially vulnerable people accepted payment from the Șor Party to participate in anti-government protests in the country’s capital. Moldovan intelligence services reported that not more than € 300,000 (in Moldovan lei, euros and dollars) were identified as cash transferred from abroad to Șor Party affiliates in 2022−23. However, the capital’s population consisting of pro-EU voters has been reluctant to join the protest.

The most desperate segment of society outside of Chișinău, the capital, is likely to ignore the Șor Party’s criminal record and the government’s rigid position that any anti-government protest could have imminent links to Russia. The stigmatization of the protest as something that could serve Russian interests pushes the pro-EU opposition parties towards self-censorship and political hibernation.

Distorted public perception of the Russian aggression against Ukraine

It must be admitted that the Moldovan public has its agency and the more disconnected it is from Moldovan or regional reality, the more difficult it is for the ruling party to maintain legitimacy. There is a wide understanding that Russian propaganda still leaves deep marks on collective thinking in Moldova. As explained above, Russian disinformation would be less efficient and impermeable if the pro-Russian opposition could not weaponize local poverty.

Vulnerability to Russian misrepresentation of the war in Ukraine correlates strongly with the purchasing power of Moldovans, who traditionally look to the ruling party for scapegoats. In other words, Russia can reach and/or form a loyal audience much more easily in Moldova than in a Western country due to its low household incomes. This does not mean that Moldova does not have a pocket of pro-Russian communities in the Russian-speaking Gagauz Autonomy or in the Transnistria region.

The key triggers that favor the Russian narratives in Moldova are based on two main tensions: 1) joining NATO versus neutrality; 2) sovereignty versus external control; and 3) entry into the EU versus the strategic association with Russia (CIS). A less prominent clivage exploited by Russia and the pro-Russian opposition is that of religious conservatism versus liberal values that revolve around protecting the LGBTQI+ community.

The latest polls (CBS-Research) show a high presence of Russian narratives in the minds of Moldovans. Thus, 34% believe that Crimea belongs to Russia compared to 42% who recognize the peninsula as Ukrainian territory. The seizure of parts of Luhansk and Donetsk by Russia in 2022 is approved by 23%, while almost 50% argue that it is an illegal act. Only 36% believe that Ukraine is right in the ongoing war and almost 19% of Moldovans are on the side of Russia. An important feature of the surveys is that the Russian worldview is more widespread among Russian-speakers in 30−50% of cases. However, up to 20% of the Romanian-speaking population is also biting Russian propaganda. The fact that the reach of Russian propaganda is high in all language groups shows that the socio-economic situation plays an important role in the predisposition of citizens to become pro-Russian supporters.

Internal vulnerabilities to focus on in 2023 and beyond

Unlike the obvious military component of the aggression against Ukraine, Russia is using other tools and tactics in Moldova. Nor can surgical interventions be ruled out through subversive actions. They can be organized with the participation of the Russian forces in Transnistria and the political elites within the country, without waiting for Russian intelligence from abroad. However, that scenario was more actionable last year in the midst of the energy crisis than it was in 2023.

With external support, Moldova has diversified its energy supply and is less affected by Russian attacks on Ukraine’s critical infrastructure. In addition, the EU has established a security center in Moldova and Frontex is operating on the border with Ukraine.

While keeping a close eye on Russia’s subversive plans in Moldova that have a lower probability, the Moldovan authorities must properly monitor and manage internal socio-economic stability. That is the weakest point exploited by pro-Russian forces, and one that Moscow managed to inflame in 2022. If Russia fails with short-term tactics, it could succeed with longer-term strategies involving democratic means taking into account Moldova’s local elections in 2023, the presidential ones in 2024 and the legislative ones in 2025.

By Denis Cenusa
Political analyst, associated expert at Eastern Europe Studies Centre (Lithuania) and Expert-Grup (Moldova)

UN aviation council votes to hear MH17 case against Russia

A part of the wreckage is seen at the crash site of the Malaysia Airlines Flight MH17 near the village of Hrabove (Grabovo), in the Donetsk region July 21, 2014. (Reuters)

Reuters
Published: 18 March ,2023: 

The United Nations aviation council on Friday voted to hear a case against Russia over the 2014 downing of Malaysia Airlines Flight MH17, the foreign ministers of Australia and the Netherlands said.

Australia and the Netherlands initiated the action over MH17 last year at the International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO). The passenger jet was struck over rebel-held eastern Ukraine by what international investigators and prosecutors say was a Russian-made surface-to-air missile, killing all 298 people on board.

Australia has said Russia was responsible under international law and that taking the matter to ICAO would be a step forward in the fight for victims who included 38 Australians.

The ICAO upheld its jurisdiction to hear the matter during a session on Friday, Australian Foreign Minister Penny Wong said in a written statement.

“This decision is an important step in our collective efforts to hold to account those responsible for this horrific act of violence,” Wong said.

Dutch Foreign Minister Wopke Hoekstra called the decision to hear the case “an important step towards establishing the truth, justice and accountability”.

“Together with Australia, we will continue to do everything in our power to find closure for the loved ones of the 298 victims of flight #MH17,” Hoekstra said on Twitter.

Russia has denied any involvement in the incident, and Russia’s ICAO delegation was not immediately available for comment. While the outcome at ICAO is uncertain, experts said the move may be seen as a further way to force Russia into negotiations over the incident.

The technical talks by ICAO’s 36-member governing council come as Moscow is facing mounting rebukes over aviation-related actions following its invasion of Ukraine.

In October, Russia failed to win enough votes at ICAO’s triennial assembly to keep its council seat. The council also called out Russia for the dual registration of commercial aircraft, which the body argued is at odds with parts of a key agreement that sets out core principles for global aviation.

Montreal-based ICAO lacks regulatory power but holds moral suasion and sets global aviation standards overwhelmingly adopted by its 193-member states, even as it operates across political barriers.

The war in Ukraine has created more refugees than the world has seen since WWII, according to a new UN report
Katherine Tangalakis-Lippert
Mar 17, 2023

Ukraine flag over rubble. Getty Images

The UN has released a new report describing crimes committed during the Russian invasion of Ukraine.
The report details war crimes including torture and rape of civilians, and deportation of children.
The invasion has created more refugees and displaced more people than the world has seen since WWII.

More than a year after Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, a new report released by the United Nations Independent Commission of Inquiry on Ukraine found evidence of war crimes including the systemic rape, torture, and murder of civilians and indiscriminate attacks on infrastructure that have left millions displaced.

More people have fled Ukraine or been displaced within the country since the start of the war than the world has seen since WWII, according to the United Nations.

The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees reports that, as of February 21, about eight million refugees from Ukraine have been displaced across Europe — of which around 90 percent are women and children. In addition, there are about 5.4 million people currently displaced across Ukraine who remain in the country.

"Nearly 18 million people in Ukraine are in need of humanitarian assistance and faced particularly harsh conditions during winter months," the report reads. "The conflict has impacted people's right to health, education, adequate housing, food, and water. Some vulnerable groups, such as older persons, children, persons with disabilities, and persons belonging to minorities, have been particularly affected. No region of the country has been spared by the conflict."

As of February 15, OHCHR had recorded 8,006 civilians killed and 13,287 injured in Ukraine since the invasion began on February 24 last year, though the report indicates officials believe the actual figures are "considerably higher."

To complete its report, members of the United Nations commission visited 56 communities impacted by Russia's invasion of Ukraine and completed interviews with 348 women and 247 men. Investigators reported seeing "sites of destruction, graves, places of detention and torture, as well as weapon remnants," according to a statement from the UN emailed to Insider.

The report noted that two instances of alleged war crimes committed by Ukrainian forces were investigated, but evidence suggests that "Russian authorities have committed a wide range of violations of international human rights law and international humanitarian law in many regions of Ukraine and in the Russian Federation," according to the report, including "willful killings, attacks on civilians, unlawful confinement, torture, rape, and forced transfers and deportations of children."

"They punished innocent people; now those who are guilty, if they are still alive, need to be punished to the fullest extent," A man, whose father was executed by Russian armed forces in the Izium region, told members of the commission, according to a statement from the UN emailed to Insider.

The International Criminal Court, a tribunal based in The Hague, Netherlands, issued an international arrest warrant for Vladimir Putin on Friday, accusing Russia's leader of war crimes and calling for him to stand trial — though it is unlikely he will do so, as Russia, like the US, does not recognize the authority of the ICC.

Due to his failure to control the military members who committed the acts, Putin is allegedly responsible for the war crime of forcibly deporting children from occupied areas of Ukraine to the Russian Federation, the ICC said in a Friday statement.

A State Department spokesperson told Insider "there is no doubt that Russia is committing war crimes and atrocities in Ukraine, and we have been clear that those responsible must be held accountable."

Representatives for the ICC and State Department did not immediately respond to Insider's requests for comment.

A Donbas Diary: Looking Back At The Early Stages Of The Conflict In Ukraine – OpEd

War memorial marking the liberation of the Donbass region from Nazi invaders in the Second World War.

 March 17, 2023  Eurasia Review  

By Fergie Chambers

It is evening in Bucharest, the capital of Romania, one of NATO’s easternmost members. I am waiting at the edge of Izvor Park in the city center to meet with a young friend who has fled Ukraine. In the backdrop of the park is the Palace of the Parliament, the brutalist architectural crown jewel of the Ceaușescu era, and the heaviest building on earth.

When my friend Pyotr arrives, we sit for beers and share our recent stories; it is late March 2022, just one month since Russia’s “special military operation” in Ukraine began. I have been maneuvering a bureaucratic maze as I try to gain entry into the Russian Federation and the separatist republics of the Donbas; I am awaiting a call back from consulates in Romania and Moldova. Pyotr has just arrived from Kiev by train. A number of his comrades in communist, socialist, and union organizations around Ukraine have been detained.

Recently, the Kononovich brothers, notable Ukrainian communists, had been arrested and disappeared (following their imprisonment, they are now under house arrest). Over a few days of conversation, I learn more from Pyotr than I could ever put into writing; he says to me at one point: “if there is one thing to understand, it is that sovereignty in Ukraine and Eastern Europe has been stolen by the West not through any military invasion or political party, but through the infiltration of Ukrainian civil society by Western interests, NGOs, and right-wing nationalists. Everyone in Ukraine knows that Washington directs this process, whether they support it or not.”

After a week in Bucharest, I head for the consulate in neighboring Moldova, where I have just spent nearly a month reporting on the refugee influx from Ukraine. I have been advised that it is my only option for obtaining a visa to Russia. The divide between pro-Western and pro-Russian civilians is palpable where the Moldovan government is led by Maia Sandu, a graduate of Harvard University’s John F. Kennedy School of Government, and former staffer for the World Bank.

Just as in Ukraine, there is a push in Moldova by pro-West factions to limit public use of the Russian language, despite Russian being the native tongue of hundreds of thousands of Moldovans. One man I speak to there, who is the head of a Ukrainian diaspora NGO, and a former candidate for vice mayor of Chișinău, the capital city, happily informs me that Ukrainians are European, while Russians have “Mongol blood.”

At last, the visa materializes. I leave Moldova and travel to Russia, and then I make my way through Russia to Rostov-on-Don, the last stop on Russian Federation turf before the border with the breakaway Donetsk and Lugansk People’s republics (DPR/LPR). There, in the Donbas, a region that became a mining powerhouse in the USSR, war has been raging for eight years. I am questioned for hours at every border crossing, even in Saint Petersburg, because of my U.S. passport and my tattoos (of which I have many). I am never violated or intimidated, just thoroughly questioned and checked. Mostly, it seems to me, the border officials are looking for swastikas, or evidence of Ukrainian nationalist affiliations, the markers of an individual likely to be hostile to Russia’s advances.

My final crossing into DPR happens in the evening. I emerge from a forest into the capital city of Donetsk. I arrived ready to accept any reality that I witnessed. What I saw was a people who had been through hell, and had adjusted to it, all the while unwavering in their commitment to what they see as a fight for self-determination against the reach of the United States and its vassals, especially NATO.

I see Russian, Soviet, and DPR flags everywhere, along with large signs and billboards: “To Victory,” “We Take Care of Our Own,” “We are Russia.” Victory Day, the anniversary of the defeat of Nazi Germany by Soviet forces on May 9, 1945, perhaps still the most significant day on the Russian calendar, is fast approaching.

I am brought by an official escort to the Central Hotel, about 300 meters from an enormous statue of Lenin that overlooks the main square of Donetsk. There is no active plumbing in the city for about 20-22 hours each day, and no hot water at all; Ukrainian armed forces had blown out the water supply. For the first time in my life, I can hear live artillery going off in relative proximity.

The next morning, I walk to the “fancy” hotel in town, where journalists congregate to have coffee and use fast Wi-Fi (that hotel has since been leveled by Ukrainian munitions; a friend of mine was injured in the attack). I strike up a conversation with a Moscow-based Canadian journalist, who sees on a Donetsk Telegram feed that the Sokol market in the Kirovsky District of Donetsk has just been hit by shelling and that there are fatalities. We rush to a cab and head there.

When we pull up to the marketplace, smoke is everywhere, and many stalls have been burned to a crisp. Shelling continues nearby, close enough to shake the earth beneath our feet. We are brought to a member of the neighborhood safety commission, Gennady Andreevich, who walks us through the wreckage, down side alleys into the food market. An old woman’s body is lying on the ground in a pool of blood. “She came to buy vegetables,” he tells us. “There was also a local teacher who came to buy supplies for his mechanics class; his body was not left in recognizable condition. They never target military positions, you know? Always the markets, where the people go to socialize, to work, to get the things they need to live… or the residential buildings. See? Over there? That is where our neighborhood office is. They hit that last month. My colleague was killed.” He points to a large concrete building.

He is steely, but not without emotion. “There is absolutely no military reason to strike places like this,” he tells us. “They do it to strike fear in our hearts, but it does not work.” This is just my first day, and I am already seeing that the things we’ve been hearing about Donbas are anything but the common NATO refrain of “Kremlin fabrications.”

The following night, a residential building behind a school is hit, and we discover an elderly couple arranging some of the wreckage at the entrance to their building. The woman, who will only give her first name, Elena, is eager to speak with a Western reporter. She tells us that their block has been hit almost weekly for eight years, as they live on the outskirts, near the front. Most of the younger people have abandoned the area, she says, but she has had to stay to care for her bedridden father. “He served as a miner in the Ukrainian army in the USSR. He received many distinguished medals,” she tells us. “They attack us, simply because we did not want to follow a government that betrayed our heritage. We in the Donbas did not support Euromaidan. We are Ukrainian, but we are Russian.” I ask if the Minsk accords, which previously negotiated ceasefires between the separatists and Ukraine, had helped at all. “When Minsk was signed, the shelling here on the edge of the city only got worse.” We pass through their apartment, where their grandchildren left just that morning. She credits an Eastern Orthodox icon painting of Mary for protecting them.

“What would you have to say to anyone reading or watching this in the West?” I ask her.

“I want to repeat to America and to Europe: You send weapons to Ukraine. Ukraine kills… I’m not sure who they consider us to be now, but we are Ukrainian. We all have Ukrainian passports. You aggravate and escalate the situation even more. You should sit at the negotiation table, and not try to solve this by sending more arms.”

I spend some of April, all of May, and some of June in the Donbas. I tour front-line cities, alone and with military transports; I meet with people everywhere: there is Alexei Aybu in Lugansk, a member of “Borotba,” (Struggle), a Ukrainian communist party, who fled Odessa after he barely survived the May 2014 Ukrainian nationalist massacre of more than 40 of his comrades in the trade union building. There is “Aurora,” a Donetsk-based Marxist women’s collective comprised of a mix of locals from the Donbas and refugees from western Ukraine, who have especially harsh words for Western “socialists” who are largely backing their attackers in Kiev.

In Mariupol, we see destruction on an inhuman level. Over and over, the locals there tell us that the Ukrainian Azov battalion, who at the time of my visit are still in the Azovstal bunker, has occupied the city for years with an iron fist; they tell us that when the Russians came nearer, Azov laid waste to the city, not allowing civilians any safe escape corridors, and threatening them with death should they attempt to flee.

Everywhere this narrative is repeated, as is the theme of Kiev as an occupier, and Moscow as the liberator. We see the huge influx of reconstruction and humanitarian aid brought in from Russia, while all Western organizations seem to have abandoned Donbas. I tour the peripheral districts at length; everywhere is another memorial for the dead, a list of names, and stuffed animals to remember the children. It is estimated that between 2014-2022, 15,000 people lost their lives in the Donbas, the vast majority in these extremely poor residential areas, forgotten casualties in a war hidden from the view of the West, who seem to believe that Russian President Vladimir Putin awoke one morning in February and decided he wanted some of Ukraine.

On May 9 (the aforementioned Victory Day of the Soviets over Germany in World War II), I join a caravan of reporters (I’m the only U.S. journalist in sight) to Mellitopol, a city in the Zaporozhye region, next to Mariupol. Mellitopol had also been occupied by Kiev-friendly forces until February 2022, but the city was abandoned by Ukraine without a fight. We have come to witness the festivities for Victory Day; for seven years of what the locals we spoke with there called “occupation” by the Kiev regime, any celebrations of the Soviet victory in World War II have been made illegal, so this will be the first one. Most of us assume that given the instability of the political climate, the curfews, and the closeness of the ongoing battles, it will be a fairly subdued affair.

Instead, at least 10,000 people take the streets, in a procession led by a column of Red Army veterans, many of whom fought in the World War II Battle of Stalingrad. The jubilation is contagious; tears stream down the eyes of people of all ages, including both those who lived through World War II, and those who have only lived through this one. It is an experience unlike any other.

A woman sees me capturing footage of the procession, and beckons me over. She says, “You tell them over there, we are Russian, and we have always been Russian. We defeated fascism then, and we will do it again.”

I asked many people there if they had criticisms of the Russian government, or of Putin’s decisions. There is one refrain that I heard, over and over, maybe best articulated by Svetlana Valkovich, of the aforementioned “Aurora” group: “Putin, yes, made many mistakes. Most of all, he waited far too long to come to help us here in Donbas. We begged Russia to come for years, but at least they have come now.” 

This article was produced by Globetrotter.

Fergie Chambers is a freelance writer and Marxist organizer. He can be found on Twitter/Instagram at @jccfergie and at combatliberalism.substack.com.