Victory Day 2025

Sergei Podgorkov, Outside the Obukhov Factory (St. Petersburg), 9 May 2025

Source: Sergei Podgorkov (Facebook), 9 May 2025

On Friday, May ninth, Treptow Park was perhaps the most heavily guarded place in Berlin. Hundreds of police officers kept the peace at Germany’s most famous memorial to Soviet soldiers on the day Russia marked the eightieth anniversary of the end of the Second World War in Europe, known as the Great Patriotic War in the Soviet tradition. Because Russia has employed symbols of that earlier war in its current war against Ukraine, visitors were banned from displaying or wearing Soviet and Russian flags, military uniforms, and St George’s ribbons at the Berlin memorial this year. An exception was made for veterans and diplomats.

Soviet May ninth traditions and German pacifists

At about half past ten in the morning, a wreath was laid at the monument to the Soviet soldier by Russia’s ambassador to Germany, Sergei Nechayev. The day before, when Germany remembered the Wehrmacht’s surrender and the end of the war, Nechayev and the Belarusian ambassador were not invited to the memorial event at the Bundestag. In his speech, German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier thanked the Allies for liberating his country and recalled the Red Army’s sacrifices, but harshly criticized Russian attempts to justify the war in Ukraine in terms of the fight against the Nazis in the Second World War.

The flood of people in Treptow Park seemed endless: hundreds were there at any one time, and thousands came and went over the course of the day. Many brought scarlet carnations, while some bore wreaths. Russian and German were heard. Most of the visitors were elderly—immigrants from the former USSR living in Germany and Germans. There were also many leftist and ultra-leftist German political activists brandishing placards opposing NATO and calling for “peace with Russia.”

German ultra-leftists rally for “peace with Russia” and Germany’s exit from NATO, 9 May 2025.
Photo: Roman Goncharenko/Deutsche Welle

Against this backdrop, the scene resembled a mixture of a traditional Russian May ninth celebration and a political protest by German pacifists, many of whom had clearly lived most of their lives in the GDR.

“I was a policeman in the GDR,” said a man in his sixties who held a placard that read “Thank you” in Russian. The policemen asked him to doff his Soviet cap, which sported a red star and a St. George’s ribbon.

“All people want peace, so the politicians should don their own military uniforms and crawl into the trenches,’ the man said.

Soviet wartime songs sounded from loudspeakers and were played live. One man, aged forty-five, climbed atop a mound to get a better view, but a policeman asked him to get off the lawn, explaining, “This is a grave.” The man cursed in Russian but climbed off the mound.

Another man played played “Arise, Great Country” on his clarinet. When he began quietly playing the melody of the Soviet and Russian national anthem, the police literally took him aside, after which he returned to the group of people who had gathered. They were outraged at the restrictions that had been adopted. From time to time, someone chanted “Russia, Russia!” and many other people would join in.

An ex-East German police office (holding a sign that says “Thanks!” in Russian): “All people want peace.”
Photo: Roman Goncharenko/Deutsche Welle

Bikers in Treptow Park

Your correspondent saw men and a woman in leather jackets who looked like bikers from the Russian motorcycle gang Night Wolves. They were in small groups and were escorted by a large number of police officers. They posed for pictures in front of the wreaths and left. They could have been someone from a local “support group.” The Berlin press had written that only a small group of bikers made the trip to Berlin to visit the Soviet memorials this year. No incidents had been reported as this article went to press.

Treptow Park, 9 May 2025. The crimson and gold banners at the back of the crowd are inscribed with the names of the various “fronts” in the Red Army’s campaign against the Wehrmacht. Photo: Roman Goncharenko/Deutsche Welle

For the first half of the day, at least, things seemed relatively calm. Your correspondent had the impression that most people had come to Treptow Park not for political reasons, but to commemorate the war. And yet the atmosphere was tense. To the right and left of the monument to the Soviet warrior stood a dozen and a half activists holding placards and the flags of Ukraine and NATO.

Activists with placards and Ukrainian flags at the monument to Soviet soldiers in Treptow Park, 9 May 2025.
Photo: Roman Goncharenko/Deutsche Welle

They said they wanted to draw attention to the Ukrainian Red Army soldiers who had perished in the Second World War, as well as to Russia’s war against Ukraine.

“I am here to prevent this event from being turned into a Russian propaganda stunt,” said a woman, aged thirty-five. According to her, insults had been hurled at her and the pro-Ukrainian activists.

“Some people regard our presence here as a provocation,” said the woman. “We are not here to change anyone’s mind, but to make Ukraine visible.”

One of their posters read: “Russia has usurped the memory of May eighth and ninth. But it was not Russia who liberated us from the yoke of National Socialism eighty years ago in Berlin. It was the Red Army, in whose ranks many Ukrainians served.”

The poster tells the story of Ukrainian soldier Fyodor Karpenko, who left his name on the walls of the destroyed Reichstag building in May 1945.

Source: Roman Goncharenko, “May Ninth in Berlin’s Treptow Park: A War of Words,” Deutsche Welle Russian Service, 9 May 2025. Translated by the Russian Reader

Since the Maidan uprising and Russia’s illegal annexation of Crimea in 2014, Kremlin propaganda has consistently portrayed Ukrainian leaders as Nazis or fascists. Russia also accused the Ukrainian authorities of “genocide” of the population of Donbass. On 24 February 2022, while announcing the full-scale invasion, the “denazification” of Ukraine was presented as the primary goal of the war, which is itself portrayed merely as a continuation of the Great Patriotic War: a conflict embedded in a cyclical conception of time in which Russia, eternally under threat from a Western enemy, fights for its very survival — on Ukrainian soil.

On the ground, there is no evidence to support Moscow’s accusations: nobody has ever documented a “genocide” against ethnic Russians or Russian speakers, whether in Ukraine or elsewhere. As for the Ukrainian far-right, its political influence remains minimal: in the 2019 parliamentary elections, the main ultra-nationalist parties, running together on a joint list, received just over 2% of the vote, well below the threshold required to enter Parliament. In short, the image of a “Nazi regime” in Kyiv is based on a glaring mismatch between rhetoric and reality.

So why do the Russian authorities repeatedly invoke references to the Second World War — or, in Russian parlance, the “Great Patriotic War” — when speaking about Ukraine? Understanding this memory dynamic is essential to grasp the power of a rhetoric that, despite lacking any factual basis, continues to shape the official Russian worldview.

The Soviet and Russian insistence on using the term “Great Patriotic War” to refer exclusively to the period from 1941 to 1945 erases the twenty-one months that preceded Nazi Germany’s invasion of the USSR. Between the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact of August 23, 1939, and Operation Barbarossa on June 22, 1941, Moscow and Berlin were de facto allies: they engaged in extensive economic cooperation, diplomatic coordination, jointly invaded and partitioned Poland in September 1939, and the Soviet Union proceeded to annex the Baltic countries and wage war against Finland. By reducing the war to the period 1941–1945, the USSR and Russia could deny any responsibility in the outbreak of the Second World War and present itself solely as the victim of Nazi aggression and the primary liberator of Europe.

The Great Patriotic War — and especially the victory in 1945 — became the founding event of Soviet history and the cornerstone of collective memory. Yet this memory, often portrayed as monolithic and universally shared, is anything but uniform. A Ukrainian from the west, who endured two successive occupations between 1939 and 1944, remembers a war very different from that of an eastern Ukrainian, whose experience was shaped primarily by Nazi destruction. The memory of a Russian bears little resemblance to that of a Crimean Tatar, who was deported along with his entire community and denied the right of return for decades. As for Soviet Jews, whose families and communities were annihilated in the Holocaust, they were long forced to remain silent — official narratives left no room for the specificity of their suffering.

The collective experience of the war and the official discourse surrounding it deeply reshaped the Soviet population’s understanding of “fascism” and “antifascism.” Rather than referring to a specific political doctrine of the inter-war period, the term “fascism” had become a catch-all label for the ultimate enemy. Trotsky or the British Conservatives could just as easily be branded as “fascists,” as well as domestic and international opponents after 1945 — including even the Chinese Communists. The word “Nazi” itself was rarely used. In everyday life, calling someone a “fascist” served more as the gravest possible insult rather than as a statement of ideological substance.

Under Vladimir Putin, the cult of the Great Patriotic War has been revived. Following the pro-democracy protests of 2011 and Putin’s bid for a third presidential term in 2012, the regime instituted a deliberate policy of historical narrative construction, aimed at grounding its legitimacy in a vision of the nation as under siege. The glorification of the 1945 victory also allowed the regime to purge collective memory of its specifically socialist elements: by retaining only the narrative of national triumph, the Soviet period could be seamlessly integrated into a continuous national history without any revolutionary rupture. At the same time, the rehabilitation of Joseph Stalin as a legitimate victor served to validate autocracy. The mass repressions and genocidal policies that claimed millions of lives were reframed as a tragic but necessary step: they had made the USSR a global superpower, capable of defending civilization against the “brown plague.”

The Kremlin has multiplied its legal instruments to enforce this narrative. Since 2020, the Russian Constitution mandates “respect for the memory of the defenders of the Fatherland” and prohibits “diminishing the importance of the heroism” of the Soviet people. In April 2021, Putin signed a law increasing penalties for “insults” or “false claims” about the Second World War and its veterans. In December 2019, Putin himself gathered some leaders of post-Soviet states around a pile of archival documents that he said proved historical truths long ignored in the West — selectively quoting them to justify, in retrospect, the USSR’s annexation of Poland and the Baltic states. In this way, Putin has weaponized history, which has become inseparable from national interest. To challenge his interpretation is tantamount to treason.

Every year on May 9, Russians march in the Immortal Regiment carrying portraits of relatives who fought between 1941 and 1945. Increasingly, the faces of those who fought — or died — in the war against Ukraine are added to these ranks, as though both wars were part of a single, endless struggle. Past and present warfare are merged, and the victory of 1945 becomes the lens through which all events — past, present, and future — are interpreted in a continuous historical timeline. This symbolic fusion also explains the surreal images of Russian occupation forces who, in recent weeks, have placed propaganda banners in destroyed Ukrainian cities. An uninhabitable Bakhmut was transformed into a stage for celebrating the 80th anniversary of Russia’s victory in the “Great Patriotic War.”

The cult of victory is not only a central element of the Putinist imaginary — it functions as an operating system for both domestic governance and external aggression, with all of Russia’s actions on the international stage framed as part of an eternal war against fascism. A telling example of this is the installation of a giant screen on the Estonian border, broadcasting Victory Day celebrations in a loop — an attempt to remind Estonians, as well as Latvians and Lithuanians, that the Soviet victory represents an unassailable moral superiority. In the Russian collective imagination, the word “fascism” has lost all connection with a specific political ideology and now refers only to an abstract, absolute threat: the desire to destroy Russia. It has become synonymous with “enemy” or “Russophobe,” always denoting the Other, never a historically defined movement. This separation between word and meaning allows the regime to simultaneously glorify the antifascist victory and openly promote xenophobic, homophobic, or ultraconservative rhetoric, without any perceived contradiction.

The word “denazification,” used by Vladimir Putin on February 24, 2022, to justify the invasion, initially puzzled many Russians, most of whom were unfamiliar with the term in this context. Shortly afterwards, the state news agency RIA Novosti published an article by Timofey Sergeytsev — “What Russia Should Do with Ukraine” — aimed at clarifying its meaning: “denazification” was described as a “total cleansing,” targeting not only alleged Nazi leaders but also “the popular masses who are passive Nazis,” deemed guilty of having supported the “Nazi government.” According to Sergeytsev, modern Ukraine is able to hide its Nazism behind aspirations for “independence” and “European development.” To destroy this Nazism, he argues, is to “de-Europeanise” Ukraine. In this logic, denazification becomes synonymous with eliminating all Western influence from Ukraine and dismantling the country’s existence as a nation-state and a distinct society. Incubated on official state platforms, this narrative reveals the true scope of “denazification”: a large-scale project aimed at erasing any trace of Ukrainian singularity, a blueprint for the genocide.

The article recently published on the official website of the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service (SVR), entitled “Eurofascism, Today as 80 Years Ago, Is a Common Enemy of Moscow and Washington,” strikingly illustrates the expansion of the “denazification” discourse far beyond Ukraine. The accompanying image depicts a grotesque hybrid monster: its body is shaped like a black swastika with the EU’s circle of stars in the centre, while its head is a caricature of Ursula von der Leyen. The creature, with its blood-stained claws outstretched, is caught between two bayonets — one American, the other Russian/Soviet. This grotesque image is not merely a provocation: it reflects a narrative deeply entrenched in Russian state propaganda, where “Eurofascism” becomes an operational concept encompassing all European societies.

“Eurofascism, Today as 80 Years Ago, Is a Common Enemy of Moscow and Washington.” Screenshot courtesy of Meduza

The 2022 tipping point revealed these discourses for what they truly are: the ideological foundation of a large-scale invasion, long prepared within the informational sphere. Today, part of European society — particularly elements of the pacifist left — is falling into the same trap: underestimating or ignoring the ongoing propaganda dynamic. But the machine is already in motion. The language of fascism is being broadened daily to include new designated enemies, and the ideological war is shifting: it is no longer stopping at Ukraine — it is now targeting all of Europe. In the face of this brutal reconfiguration of the official Russian narrative, complacency or passivity have themselves become forms of strategic blindness.

Source: Hanna Perekhoda, “From Kyiv to Brussels: The Great Patriotic War as Putin’s Propaganda,” in “Victory Day: Three Interventions from the Left,” Posle, 7 May 2025. Ms. Perekhoda is a Ukrainian historian, researcher, and activist.

Russia’s consolidated military registration registry website, Reestrpovestok.rf, is fully operational. On Friday, 9 May 2025, the human rights project Get Lost, which helps Russians avoid conscription into the army, reported that the notifications that it was operating in test mode had disappeared from the website, and the online resource appeared to have been fully launched.

Upon arrival on the website, users can log in to their personal accounts, check summonses, and obtain copies of records. Earlier, the website indicated that it was functioning in beta mode only in three regions—Sakhalin, Ryazan, and the Republic of Mari El. This notification has now disappeared.

“So far no one who has received a summons through this site or faced automatic restrictions has contacted us,” the human rights activists added. The registry’s launch has not been officially announced.

Recipients of summonses to face restrictions if they fail to report to military recruitment center

The law establishing a consolidated registry of persons subject to conscription and introducing electronic summonses was signed by Russian President Vladimir Putin in April 2023. The text of the document, in particular, states that conscripts who do not report to a military enlistment office within twenty days of receiving a summons may be prohibited from registering as an individual entrepreneur, registering vehicles and real estate, driving a vehicle, and getting a bank loan. In addition, they will not be able to leave Russia until they report to a military enlistment office.

A screenshot of the military enlistment summons website, outlining the penalties imposed on Russians who fail to respond.

The full-fledged launch of the electronic summonses registry was planned for last autumn, but was subsequently postponed.

The registry contains data on all Russian nationals who are already registered and are subject to military registration, as well as those who are not yet registered but are obliged to do so. Lawyers stress that the law and the decree apply to the delivery of any summonses, both for compulsory service and to clarify military registration status, and as part of the wartime mobilization, which Putin has not yet signed a decree to end.

This data will be collected from military enlistment offices. The decree digitizing their databases was signed by Putin back in November 2022. As Defense Ministry officials told the Federation Council, various databases are used for this purpose, including those of the Interior Ministry, the Federal Tax Service, civil registries, and pension funds.

Source: Daniil Sotnikov, “Electronic summonses registry fully operational in Russia,” Deutsche Welle Russian Service, 9 May 2025. Translated by the Russian Reader

“A River of Grief”: Six More Crimean Tatars Sentenced to Long Prison Terms by Russian Occupation Regime

Today, a Russian military court sentenced six Crimean Tatars from the Dzhankoi District to terms in prison ranging from 11 to 14 years.

On the firing range of persecution, this is yet another sentence for Muslims in Crimea. For us, it means yet more broken lives, families separated for many years, and children who have also been sentenced to a life without their fathers. It is a river of grief.

I look at the grey-haired old man on the left of the photo, 69-year-old Khalil Mambetov, and in my mind’s eye I see the political prisoners Azamat Eyupov and Servet Gaziyev, who have already been sent into exile thousands of kilometers away from Crimea to serve their sentences. I look at Mambetov and think about his wife, Tata Lila, who is battling cancer. “We don’t know how to tell her that Agha Khalil has been sentenced to 14 years in prison,” say the wives of the other defendants.

Refat Seidametov, Leman Zekeryaev, Ekrem Krosh, and Osman Abdurazakov were also sentenced to 14 years’ imprisonment, with the first four years to be served in a closed prison and the remainder in a maximum security penal colony.

The court sentenced Aider Asanov to 11 years’ imprisonment, with the first three years to be served in a closed prison and the remainder in a maximum security penal colony, followed by one year’s custodial supervison.

Aider’s mother has a severe form of bronchial asthma. After her son’s arrest, her condition deteriorated further. Leman Zekeryaev’s mother has trouble walking. Ekrem Krosh’s brother Enver is also in the pretrial detention center in Rostov-on-Don, and the Almighty only knows how much pain their mothers are in.

When they will embrace their relatives on the outside, like hundreds of other women in Crimea, is also known to the Almighty alone. But we will continue to do everything in our power. And no matter how difficult it is, no matter how overcome we are by chronic fatigue, we continue to peacefully defend the supreme values of our people’s integrity. Because we cannot become inured to persecution.

Source: Mumine Saliyeva (Facebook), 29 April 2025. Translated by the Russian Reader

Russia’s worst conveyor belt of repression in occupied Crimea has sunk to a new low with six recognized Crimean Tatar political prisoners from Dzhankoi facing sentences of 17 and 17.5 years. Not only are none of the men accused of any recognizable crime, but even the charges are those virtually copy-pasted from ‘trial’ to ‘trial’ since 2015, with the sole difference lying in the huge sentences demanded in this case against all the men. As well as in the fact that Khalil Mambetov is already 69, making this a near certain death sentence.

The ’trial’ of the six Crimean Tatars is coming to an end at the Southern District Military Court in Rostov-on-Don, with the prosecutor claiming, on 7 April 2025, that the men’s ‘guilt’ had been proven. He demanded 17.5-year sentences against Khalil Mamebetov (b. 1955) and Refat Seidametov (b. 1969) and 17-year sentences against Osman Abdurazakov (b. 1984); Aider Asanov (b. 1963); Ekrem Krosh (b. 1985); and Leman Zekeryaev (b. 1973). In each case, the sentence would be for maximum-security (or ‘harsh-regime’) imprisonment, with the prosecutor also seeking a one-year term of (seriously) restricted liberty should they survive the sentence in the appalling conditions of Russian penal institutions.

Lawyer Emil Kurbedinov told Crimean Solidarity that ‘each sentence in these cases is proof of political persecution. And with each sentence, the lawlessness takes on increasingly sophisticated and perverted forms.”

(From left) Leman Zekeryaev, Ekrem Krosh, Aider Asanov, Khalil Mambetov, Refat Seidametov, and Osman Abdurazakov.
Photo: Crimean Solidarity

Although the sentences demanded are not necessarily those handed down, the fact that such horrifically long terms are demanded in all cases is unprecedented. It is especially worrying given that all of the men are accused of the lesser of two charges used in these conveyor belt trials.

Russia’s use of its legislation against any Ukrainian citizens on occupied territory is illegal, however these trials are especially cynical since the men are accused solely of unproven involvement in an organization which is legal in Ukraine. The pretext for bulk ‘trials’ of Crimean Tatar and other Ukrainian Muslims is a flawed and suspiciously secretive Russian Supreme Court ruling from 2003 declaring the peaceful, transnational Muslim organization Hizb ut-Tahrir ‘terrorist’. Since 2017, Russia has largely used such ‘trials’ as a means of trying to crush the Crimean Tatar human rights movement with civic journalists and activists, especially from Crimean Solidarity, increasingly targeted.

This was the second wave of such arrests in the Dzhankoi region of Crimea, with the first wave in August 2022 coming the day after a humiliating attack on a Russian military base in Crimea which Russia could not admit, but doubtless wanted to avenge. The link between these two ‘operations’ seemed clear given that the arrests on 24 January 2023 targeted the brothers of two of the men arrested in August 2022, with Ekrem Krosh the brother of civic activist Enver Krosh, seized in 2022, and Osman Abdurazakov the brother of Edem Bekirov. It also seemed likely because of the charges. In almost all such ‘trials’, one or more of the defendants is accused of ‘organizing’ a Hizb ut-Tahrir group under Article 205.5 § 1 of Russia’s criminal code. The others are accused of ‘involvement’ in such a ‘group’ (Article 205.5 § 2). Why one charge is laid, not the other, often seems arbitrary or about reprisals, but the difference in length of sentence has, up till now, been significant. All six defendants in the second Dzhankoi group are accused only of ‘involvement’, while the sentences demanded are those normally used against purported ‘organizers’. In occupied Crimea, it has become standard for all defendants to face the equally absurd charge of ‘planning to violently seize power’, under Article 278.

These ‘trials’ are not just a travesty because of the flawed charges. Essentially no evidence of actual involvement in Hizb ut-Tahrir is required. FSB-loyal ‘experts’ are used to provide ‘assessments’ of illicitly taped conversations about religion, politics, bringing up children, etc., with the supposed ‘experts’ providing the ‘conclusions’ demanded of them. The ‘trials’ also hinge on the so-called ‘testimony’ of anonymous witnesses who may well have never met the defendant. As reported, there have been absolutely glaring infringements in this case, with the FSB, for example, not even bothering to explain which part of a long conversation which they illicitly taped, proves the men’s ‘guilt’. The description given by one of the ‘secret witnesses’ did not match the photos used for the alleged identification parade.

Tragically none of this, nor the age of one of the defendants, will make a scrap of difference. The ‘case’ was passed to the court in Rostov in August 2023, and is being heard by a panel of judges, under presiding judge Viacheslav Alekseevich Korsakov, who has already demonstrated his willingness to provide the sentences demanded of him, however unwarranted.

The next hearing is scheduled for 15 April, with the defence beginning the final debate.

Source: Halya Coynash, “Russia seeks effective death sentence against 69-year-old Crimean Tatar political prisoner and horrific sentences against five others,” Human Rights in Ukraine (Kharkiv Human Rights Protection Group), 8 April 2025. The emphasis is in the original.

Solidarity with Ukraine (and Its Opposite)

Coeleen Kiebert, Ode to the Women of Ukraine, May They Return to Quilt Their Beauty Again Soon, 2021. Ceramic, indigo linen. Pajaro Valley Arts, Watsonville, California, 26 April 2025. Photo by the Russian Reader

News from Ukraine Bulletin 144 (28 April 2025)

In this week’s bulletin: Solidarity With Ukraine conference speeches, reports and draft declaration/ Mobilise to free abducted children/ More evidence of Russian torture, targeting of civilians, abduction of children/ Putin’s foreign mercenaries

News from the territories occupied by Russia:

Donbas hostages savagely tortured for ‘confessions’ in 2019 sentenced in Russia to 24 years (Kharkiv Human Rights Protection Group, April 25^th)

Huge sentences and videoed ‘repentance’ in Russia’s mounting terror in occupied Zaporizhzhia oblast (Kharkiv Human Rights Protection Group, April 24th)

“Relatives said: people like you should be killed.” The story of a woman who survived torture and fled occupied Mariupol twice (Ukrainska Pravda, April 24th)

Crimean resident jailed for “discrediting the Russian army” is freed (Crimea Human Rights Group, 23 April)

Crimean Tatar Mejlis rejects any international recognition of Crimea as Russian, chairman says (Kyiv Independent, April 22^nd)

Horrific sentences demanded against five Ukrainians abducted from Russian-occupied Melitopol (Kharkiv Human Rights Protection Group, April 22nd)

The situation at the front:

The weekly war summary (The Insider, 26 April)

‘Wiping out neighborhood after neighborhood’ Russia pounds Ukraine’s Pokrovsk, forcing civilians to flee under fire. For many, it’s not the first time. (Meduza, April 21st)

News from Ukraine:

Russia returns body of abducted Ukrainian journalist Victoria Roshchyna with scars from torture (Kharkiv Human Rights Protection Group, April 25th)

Nine people killed and 42 injured in Russian drone attack on bus in Marhanets, Dnipropetrovsk Oblast – photos (Ukrainska Pravda, April 23rd)

‘Please don’t use my name’ A report by journalist Shura Burtin on the growing war weariness among Ukrainians (Meduza, March 27^th)

War-related news from Russia:

Russia’s deserters: “A raging meat grinder” (Meduza, 24 April)

Despite Putin’s denials, Russia’s military has welcomed foreign mercenaries from at least 48 nations — (iStories, April 23^rd)

Darya Kozyreva gets real prison term for Taras Shevchenko poem and opposition to Russia’s war against Ukraine (Kharkiv Human Rights Protection Group, April 22nd)

The Lost Army: War veterans could pose a problem for Putin’s Russia, just like they did for interwar Germany (The Insider, April 21^st)

Olga Menshikh: “A Society Sick with Fear Cannot Be Happy” (Russian Reader, April 20^th)

Analysis and comment:

What Trump’s plan might look like, in maps (Meduza, 24 April)

Russia’s selective ‘terrorism’ in war against Ukraine and in fraternizing with the Taliban (Kharkiv Human Rights Protection Group, April 23rd)

In memory of Cooper Andrews, Finbarr Cafferkey and Dmitry Petrov (Solidarity Collectives, 19 April)

Research of war crimes and human rights abuses:

Meeting with Representatives of Ukrainian Roma in Brussels (Kharkiv Human Rights Protection Group, April 25th)

Experts of the Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination Commend Ukraine’s Presence Despite the Prevailing Circumstances, Raise Questions on the Treatment of Ukraine’s Indigenous Peoples and the Roma Population (UNHCR, April 24^th)

A reliable tool in the hands of human rights defenders: how the KHPG database works (Kharkiv Human Rights Protection Group, April 23rd)

International solidarity:

Mobilise to free the Ukrainian children abducted by Russia (Labour Hub, April 27^th)

“My soul is in this project of ours” (Solidarity Zone, 24 April)

Building Global Solidarity with Ukraine (Ukraine Solidarity Campaign, April 23^rd)

Justice without borders: the ZMINA and TDC advocacy trip to Chile (Zmina, April 18^th)

Free Denys Matsola and Vladyslav Iskra Zhuravlov (Solidarity Collectives, 16 April)

Solidarity With Ukraine conference in Brussels, 26-27 March. Contributions here, media coverage here, draft conference declaration here, with call for amendments

Upcoming events:

Wednesday 7 May, 3 – 5pm, War and Peace in Ukraine, Clerici Building G.21, Headington Campus, Oxford Brookes University, Oxford.

Sunday 1 June, 1.0pm, Marble Arch, London, March for the children of Ukraine

This bulletin is put together by labour movement activists in solidarity with Ukrainian resistance. To receive it by email each Monday, email us at 2022ukrainesolidarity@gmail.com. To stop the bulletin, reply with the word “STOP” in the subject field. More information at https://ukraine-solidarity.org/. We are also on Twitter, Bluesky, Facebook and Substack, and the bulletin is stored online here.

Source: Ukraine Information Group

KYIV, Ukraine (AP) — A peace proposal by the Trump administration that includes recognizing Russian authority over Crimea shocked Ukrainian officials, who say they will not accept any formal surrender of the peninsula, even though they expect to concede the territory to the Kremlin, at least temporarily.

Giving up the land that was illegally annexed by Russia in 2014 is also politically and legally impossible, according to experts. It would require a change to the Ukrainian constitution and a nationwide vote, and it could be considered treason. Lawmakers and the public are firmly opposed to the idea.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” said Oleksandr Merezkho, a lawmaker with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s party. “We will never recognize Crimea as part of Russia.”

Unlike a territorial concession, a formal surrender would permanently relinquish Crimea and abandon the hope that Ukraine could regain it in the future.

The Ukrainian public largely understands that land must be ceded as part of any armistice because there is no way to retake it militarily. Polls indicate a rising percentage of the population accepts such a trade-off.

But much of the public messaging about land concessions has suggested that they are not necessarily permanent, as when Kyiv Mayor Vitalii Klitschko told the BBC recently that Ukraine may need to temporarily give up land as part of a peace deal.

Saying otherwise would effectively admit defeat — a deeply unpopular move, especially for Ukrainians living under Russian occupation who hope to be liberated and reunited with their families one day. It also would call into question the sacrifices made by tens of thousands of Ukrainian service members who have been killed or wounded.

U.S. President Donald Trump underscored the Crimea proposal in an interview published Friday in Time magazine: “Crimea will stay with Russia. Zelenskyy understands that, and everybody understands that it’s been with them for a long time.”

Asked by reporters on Sunday if Zelenskyy was ready to give up Crimea, Trump said, “Oh, I think so. Crimea was 12 years ago. That was President Obama that gave it up without a shot being fired.”

His comments offered the latest example of the U.S. leader pressuring Ukraine to make concessions to end the war while it remains under siege. Trump has also accused Zelenskyy of prolonging the war by resisting negotiations with Russian President Vladimir Putin.

Crimea, a strategic peninsula along the Black Sea in southern Ukraine, was seized by Russia years before the full-scale invasion that began in 2022. The Russian takeover followed large protests that ousted former Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovych, who had refused to sign an association agreement with the European Union.

In the lead-up to peace talks, Ukrainian officials told the Associated Press for months that they expect Crimea and other Ukrainian territory controlled by Russia to be among Kyiv’s concessions in the event of any deal. But Zelenskyy has said on multiple occasions that formally surrendering the land has always been a red line.

Elements of Trump’s peace proposal would see the U.S. formally recognizing Crimea as Russian and de facto accepting Moscow’s rule over occupied Ukrainian territories, according to a senior European official who spoke on condition of anonymity to discuss sensitive diplomatic discussions.

Whether the U.S. formally recognizes Crimea as Russian is out of Zelenskyy’s hands. But many obstacles prevent the Ukrainian president from doing so, even under immense pressure. He cannot unilaterally sign any such proposal, and he could be reprimanded by future governments for even attempting it, experts said.

Ukraine began to accept that it would not regain its lost territories after the failure of the country’s 2023 summer counteroffensive. From then on, the Ukrainian military concentrated on defending the territory it still held.

In return for territorial concessions, Ukraine wants robust security guarantees that ideally would include NATO membership or concrete plans to arm and train its forces against any future Russian invasion with the pledged support of allies. One scenario envisions European boots on the ground, which Russia rejects.

Zelenskyy has said negotiations over occupied Ukrainian territory will be drawn out and will not likely occur until a ceasefire is in place. In late March, he told reporters after a call with Trump that the U.S. president “clearly understands that legally we will not recognize any territories.”

He said giving up territory would be “the most difficult question” and “a big challenge for us.”

Formal recognition of Crimea would also amount to political suicide for Zelenskyy. It could expose him to legal action in the future, said Tymofiy Mylovanov, president of the Kyiv School of Economics and a former economics minister.

Signing a potentially unconstitutional document could be interpreted as high treason, Mylovanov said.

The Ukrainian government cannot act either. It has no constitutional means to accept a violation of its territorial integrity, and altering the territorial makeup of the country requires a nationwide referendum.

If Ukrainian lawmakers were even to entertain the idea of surrendering Crimea, it would trigger a long, drawn-out legal debate.

“That’s why Russia is pushing it, because they know it’s impossible to achieve,” Mylovanov said.

“Anything related to constitutional change gives so much policy and public communication space to Russia,” he added. “This is all they want.”

Soldiers on the front line say they will never stop fighting, no matter what the political leadership decides.

“We lost our best guys in this war,” said Oleksandr, a soldier in the Donetsk region, who spoke on the condition that only his first name be used in line with military protocols. “We won’t stop until all Ukrainian lands are free.”

Source: Samya Kullab, “Shocked by US peace proposal, Ukrainians say they will not accept any formal surrender of Crimea,” Associated Press, 27 April 2025. The emphasis is mine — TRR.

Coeleen Kiebert, Ode to the Women of Ukraine, May They Return to Quilt Their Beauty Again Soon, 2021 (detail). Pajaro Valley Arts, Watsonville, California, 26 April 2025. Photo by the Russian Reader

Kyle

Three years ago, one man saved my family and me. He knew nothing about us except that I was a journalist, that I had left Russia because of the war, that I had children, and that we had nowhere to go. Kyle and his wife Katie decided to take us in and give us shelter. We finally had a dot on the map where we were welcome. That was how we ended up in the United States, after traveling through five or six countries in the first three months of the war.

We still live in the house into which Kyle and Katie welcomed us. All these three years, I have felt the kind of care and involvement from them which you don’t normally expect from strangers. A few days after we arrived, Katie’s mom sent us a dinner consisting of food to which we were accustomed. And Kyle was always trying to help. He paid our utilities for a long time, and he gave my husband odd jobs.

Yesterday, Elon Musk fired Kyle and two hundred other employees at the research institute where they work.

“DOGE struck like a thief in the night. Too cowardly to fire us in person, virtually everyone at NIOSH learned they were laying us off via a summary overnight email,” Kyle writes on his Facebook page.

NIOSH is the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health, which was established by Congress over fifty years ago. It researched health and safety hazards, recommended essential standards for occupational safety and health, and investigated workplace disease outbreaks. For many years, the Institute also monitored the health of 9/11 first responders and tracked occupational illnesses among firefighters and miners.

Kyle himself worked as pulmonary toxicologist at NIOSH. He studied the effects of inhaled toxicants on the lungs and other organs.

“Since 2017, I’ve studied the effects of micronized copper-treated lumber sawdust, Corian/alumina trihydrate, various 3D printer emissions, and, most recently, engineered stone dust. That last material, engineered stone, is currently responsible for a global outbreak of silicosis, a progressive and ultimately fatal lung disease. Truly a public health crisis with profound impacts on exposed workers,” Kyle writes in his post.

DOGE sent the institute’s employees a mass layoff notice at five a.m. Tuesday morning. The brief letter announced that NIOSH was being eliminated “to improve efficiency.”

“To be clear, nothing about these firings was efficient,” Kyle retorts. “This was not trimming the fat, or even a decimation, but a wholesale execution of the institute. Only a skeleton crew now remains, presumably to help sell off instruments and other assets before being fired themselves. Is it efficient to stop millions of dollars’ worth of studies in their tracks, never to be completed? The breadth of institutional knowledge lost is hard to fathom (not speaking of myself here; I have been lucky to be trained by true giants in the field). Were there inefficiencies at NIOSH? Of course, the same as with any large organization, and I would have been happy to see improvements in those areas. Unfortunately, the costs of what happened today will compound over the next several decades, yielding sick and dying workers—husbands, mothers, sons, and daughters. I hope it was worth it. For what? A billionaires’ tax break?

“Ultimately, I think I will be okay, although the prospect of job hunting in a field saturated with thousands of newly jobless scientists is daunting—especially as the current sole breadwinner and with a child on the way. What I know for certain is that somewhere today, a worker is being exposed to something that will eventually kill him, and there will be no one there to figure out why he died.”

///

On April fifth, people all across the United States will take to the streets in protest. Despite Trump’s threats to deport all disloyal people “to their country of origin,” I will be there too. What is more, I will be at a protest rally helping the organizers as a volunteer. Americans have been good to me, so I cannot fade into the woodwork when their accomplishments are under attack and their world is crumbling. I will stand with those who are willing to defend their values.

Source: Julia Khazagaeva (Facebook), 2 April 2025. Translated by the Russian Reader, who thanks the author for her kind permission to publish her text in translation on this website.

Sunday Reader No. 2: Outliers

This week’s edition of BBC Radio 4’s obituaries program featured appreciations of the KGB defector Oleg Gordievsky and the composer Sofia Gubaidulina. ||| TRR

Oleg Gordievsky, Renee Goddard, Professor Richard Fortey, Sofia Gubaidulina

Matthew Bannister on Oleg Gordievsky, the KGB agent who defected to Britain and became a valued source of secret intelligence during the 1970s and 80s.

Renee Goddard, the actress and TV commissioner who fled Nazi persecution only to be interned in Britain.

Professor Richard Fortey, the palaeontologist who used his expertise in trilobites to tell stories about the origins of life on earth. Bill Bryson pays tribute.

Sofia Gubaidulina, the composer whose large scale religious works attracted criticism from the Soviet authorities.

Source: Last Word, BBC Radio 4, 28 March 2025

Nacimiento-Fergusson Road is a stunning drive located on the Pacific coast of the U.S. state of California, regarded as one of the best motorcycling roads in central California.

Where is the Nacimiento-Fergusson Road?

The road is located in Monterey County, in the US state of California, running across the eastern slope of the Santa Lucia range within Los Padres National Forest.

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Twenty-Five Years

25 years ago, on March 26, 2000, Vladimir Putin won the Russian presidential election, making him the official successor of Boris Yeltsin, who had resigned three months earlier. Putin, who was prime minister at the time and had served as acting president after Yeltsin’s resignation, won 53.4 percent of the vote in what is widely considered the last truly competitive presidential election in Russia to date. Over the next 25 years, Putin would only tighten his grip on power. To comply with the constitutional limit of two consecutive terms, he switched to the role of prime minister in 2008 while his ally Dmitry Medvedev occupied the presidency. After amending the constitution to extend presidential terms from four to six years starting in 2012, Medvedev made way for Putin to run in the 2012 presidential election. Putin won 63.6 percent of the vote, securing a third term in Russia’s highest office.

After winning re-election again in March 2018, Putin once again faced hitting the constitutional term limit in 2024. To address what became widely known as “the 2024 problem”, Putin proposed wide-ranging amendmen[t]s to the constitution in January 2020, which included a change to presidential term limits. While making the rules stricter on paper by limiting Russian citizens to two presidential terms in their lifetime — disallowing the shuffling between positions that Putin had employed in 2008 and 2012 — the amendmen[t] was designed to disregard past or current terms, effectively erasing Putin’s first four terms. The new rule paved the way for Putin to run again in 2024 and to seek re-election in 2028 if he so chooses, which could keep him in power until 2036.

If Putin remains in power beyond 2030, he would become Russia’s longest-serving leader, surpassing Joseph Stalin, who led the Soviet Union for 29 years between 1922 and his death in 1953.

Source: Felix Richter, “Putin’s Grip on Power,” Statista, 25 March 2025

Tequilajazzz frontman Evgeny Fedorov explains to Konstantin Eggert, the presenter of DW’s #Trendy, why Putin is a genuinely grassroots president, what Fedorov’s wealthy fans asked him to play at company parties, and how Russian chanson masqueraded as Russian rock.

Konstantin Eggert: You and I are speaking in Vilnius, where your manager had to look for quite a long while for a venue for your gig because many people turned him down. Does this bother you?

Evgeny Fedorov: Of course it makes me sad. We realize that, in our case, it is unfair. There are artists playing both sides of the fence who are traveling around the world to make money. We are vocal opponents of the war and everything that has been happening in Russia. So it’s a little bit offensive to us, but we realize that this is the price the times make us pay and nothing can be done about it.

— How easy is it for an artist in exile to survive?

— It’s gotten harder. I can’t say that we were a big box-office band. Our music is specific: we’ve always had a fairly modest audience, and we’re used to it. Business wise, we are now cut off from the Russian market and can’t tour Siberia and the Far East. It’s not a big deal, because on 25 February 2022 I personally announced on social media that we would stop doing concerts in the Russian Federation. It was a deliberate (not hysterical) step on our part. We have been coping with these difficulties. We have a small but very loyal, attentive, smart fan base. As it turned out, a significant number of them left the country with us, and so I see in the audience the same people who used to come out for our concerts in St. Petersburg and Moscow.

— In one interview, you spoke about the muteness that overcame you when the full-scale invasion began. Is that muteness completely gone now?

— No, it’s not gone. It has become obvious that I have to reinvent myself, to devise a new language, both creatively and literally. It’s just inappropriate even to remember now some of the things I wrote songs about. I have to change a lot, and this applies to all areas of my life.

Konstantin Eggert interviews musician Evgeny Fedorov, Deutsche Welle Russian Service, 26 March 2025 (in Russian)

— What do you mean that you have to change? You once said that writing protest songs wasn’t your thing.

— I’m not good at it. I tried to voice my rage and grief, all the emotions that were overwhelming me, but it sounded stupid and unnatural. Despite the fact that they were my emotions, I couldn’t express them adequately in songs. We wrote only one [protest] song, “A Machine Full of Evil.” These were the first lines I wrote down in a notebook after the war started. I was watching a war newsreel from Ukraine, and this line came to my mind: “A machine full of evil was crawling.” It’s the only song on the subject where it’s quite obvious to everyone what it’s about. We don’t use any Aesopian language in it.

— Do you think that most people in Russia are just running this “evil machine”?

— No, of course not. I see a huge number of people who were not able to leave [Russia] for various reasons. Some of them deliberately stayed behind to try and destroy the system and to help each other survive. But I’m still horrified to see what a humungous number of people wholeheartedly support this crap.

Tequilajazzz, “A Machine Full of Evil” (2023)

— Among them are people with whom you have collaborated — [Vyacheslav] Butusov, [Konstantin] Kinchev, and a considerable portion of today’s Z-patriots from the cultural realm. Did you already feel at that time that this could happen? Or are those people just interested in the money?

— Almost none of them was a surprise to me. They had obviously been drifting in that direction. You could see that they were going over to that side, they had got their own personal confessors. […] The guys were fusing with the regime, it was out in the open for everyone to see, and nobody surprised me. You know, I had a dream a couple of times that Putin and I were in an office. He says, “Zhenka, sit down, I’m going to take care of business and then we’ll go fishing.” Something like that. I remember the nasty delight I felt in the dream. How cool, I’m hanging out with Putin himself! That courtier’s joy of being near power. I woke up, horrified to discover that I had it in me too, that no one was immune.

The more popular an artist is, the more often they are in the regime’s domain. I have friends who played at ex-President Medvedev’s dacha. I realize that if my music had suddenly appealed to Putin and I had been invited, I cannot rule out that a metamorphosis would have happened to me, and that I would suddenly have been possessed by this despicable joy of being around powerful people. I thank God and our firmness, which we have maintained all these years, and our aesthetic commitments and our ethical commitments, too, that we escaped the danger.

We played company parties three times in our lives. Each time it was a former fan of ours who, as a university student, used to pogo at our gigs, but then had struck it very rich, and so for his birthday or for his company’s birthday he had engaged our band and asked us to play our most hardcore alternative songs. It was always quite funny, because it was obviously the wrong music for a company party. It was just that the guy had bought himself the kind of hardcore show which he couldn’t permit himself to attend now, because he was a “big man,” surrounded by security guards, and so on. But God spared us from all those parties organized by the presidential administration and all those people who were trying to craft the new imperialist mindset.

— Is Putin a people’s president?

— I wish I could joke about it, but I look at people, how they relate to him, and everything that is happening now, and it seems that he is in fact a people’s president, because this type of president did not “go viral” for nothing and enjoys such popularity. It means that he resonates with the people, so that means he is a people’s president.

— What resonates?

— The jokes, the quips, the anecdotes. The man thinks in memes from Soviet movies. He knows how to speak this language and this appeals to people. I remember that my normal, sane friends, when Putin started making all those jokes, squealed with delight: “What a great joke he made!” I said, Guys, what’s wrong with you, it’s a purely cop joke, filled with contempt for people and the belief that no one is without sin, that “everyone shits somewhere,” that everyone is dirty, and if they aren’t, they should be made dirty. I think his practice is based on that.

— And even the war, all the Cargo 200s coming home, doesn’t change that?

— Those people are certain they are fighting for a just cause, they have been convinced of it. We all grew up completely convinced we were the kindest and most generous [people in the world], that we couldn’t be wrong. It’s a very cozy room from which it’s hard to escape and realize that we [do not do] the most magnanimous things. And when we save nations, we are just saving a lane for business.

— In January 2000, when Radio Liberty journalist Andrei Babitsky was abducted in Chechnya, I realized the new regime were the enemies of the media, and therefore the enemies of everything else that was decent. Did you have a moment when you realized that this was a catastrophe?

— September 1999, the apartment building bombings. It was quite obvious this was regime change, that [the bombings] had been necessary to bring that person to power. I lived with that horror for twenty years, trying to resist, not allowing myself to flirt with Russian chanson, with underworld things, with what Russian rock later turned into — this fusion of the guitars, the image, and the courtyard songs of Russian chanson with all the paraphernalia of chthonic values — with vodka, herring, the banya, and so on.

— You once said that the need for protest songs ended in the 90s and the bourgeois era of just being creative dawned. Was it a good time for you?

— It’s generally normal for people to do creative work and sing love songs. The need to write protest songs is not normal. We liked the fact that rock and roll was no longer a genre persecuted by the KGB and that it was safe to play. We sang about ugly things, often without delving into lofty matters. Our music is about different aspects of human life, both lofty and absolutely ordinary, even shameful. That’s normal. What is happening now is not normal.

— If you look at the last thirty years, what Russian music, literature or cinema has stuck with you?

— A few Boris Grebenshchikov albums for sure. Now I’m just cut off. I can’t listen to anything that I liked three years ago. I turn on my favorite album and realize I can’t listen to it because it takes me back to a life which no longer exists. I’ve become an “anti-old fart.” Because old farts listen to the music of their youth and choose to stay in their time bubble. My bubble has burst. I’m listening to the stuff teenagers and young adults listen to, to weird experimental stuff that doesn’t sound like what I used to enjoy.

I’m reading a lot of hundred-year-old émigré prose right now, which has suddenly become timely. It’s interesting to compare [my experiences with] the experiences of people who left [Russia] between 1918 and 1920. There is this sense of horror at the darkness that surfaced and deluged everything, the mundane details, the executions, the horror at this outbreak of self-righteous darkness, spewing saliva, blood, and shit… The horror is quite comparable.

— Let’s imagine that tomorrow Putin falls, we make peace with Ukraine and give them back the occupied territories, and the political prisoners are released. Would you be willing to go home?

— I don’t want to see those mugs. Where will all these cops, FSO officers, and the people who are in league with them go? A huge number of my friends in Russia are in a terrible situation. What is it like for those people who are on our side, but who are [in Russia]? How do they survive? How do they each struggle in their own way, often just on an aesthetic level? I have a quite pessimistic view of the future. I don’t believe that any of this will change quickly, if it didn’t change in the few years of freedom that Russia had, which people didn’t savor, but decided to go back to the Brezhnev-era twilight.

Source: Konstantin Eggert, “Fedorov: People in the Russian Federation have been convinced they are fighting for a just cause,” Deutsche Welle Russian Service, 26 March 2025

Tequilajazz, One Hundred Fifty Billion Steps (LP, 1999)

Evgeny Fedorov is a Russian musician, composer, and producer. Having played and composed music from a young age, he is a well-known and highly regarded figure in the Russian alternative rock scene. Since late August 2024, he has been in ICORN residence in Stockholm after openly criticising Russia’s war in Ukraine.

Evgeny Fedorov joined his first band Объект Насмешек (‘Object of Ridicule’) in 1986 and became very popular in the final years of communism, touring and performing across the USSR until the band broke up in 1991.

In 1993, Fedorov formed another band Tequilajazzz for which he continues to be the lead singer and bass player. The band has recorded and released numerous critically acclaimed albums and has toured all over the world.

In addition to Tequilajazzz, Fedorov has been involved in several other music projects, including Optimystica Orchestra and Zorge, and has composed music for Russian films and TV series.

After openly criticising Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, Fedorov was harassed and threatened with legal action by the Russian government. He was publicly condemned on state-controlled Russian television.

At the end of August 2024, Evgeny Fedorov began an ICORN residency in Stockholm. He continues his work from Kulturhuset Stadsteatern.

Stockholm ICORN City of Refuge

Stockholm has hosted writers and artists at risk since 1998 and has been an ICORN City of Refuge since the network was established in 2006. Since 2012, Kulturhuset Stadsteatern has been managing Stockholm’s ICORN programme, so far hosting 12 ICORN residents, including Faraj Bayrakdar, Arya Aramnejad, and Zahra Hussaini.

Currently, Stockholm offers three ICORN residences simultaneously. Alongside Evgeny Fedorov, music artist Mun Mun from Myanmar and poet and short story writer Raafat Hekmat from Syria are also continuing their work from Stockholm and Kulturhuset Stadsteatern.

Source: “Musician Evgeny Fedorov in ICORN residence in Stockholm,” International Cities of Refuge Network, 17 March 2025

Russia ranks poorly in transparency, corruption, and democracy in many international indexes. Researchers at The Economist ranked it 150th out of 167 countries in its Democracy Index last year, highlighting the country’s lack of political diversity and frequent election manipulation. Russia also received a worrying score for corruption in NGO Transparency International’s most recent annual report, where it ranked 154th out of 180.

The Kremlin regime’s repression and journalistic censorship are also reflected in a ranking on global press freedom, with Reporters Without Borders placing the country 183rd out of 208 last year—a score that is hardly surprising, considering that Russia still regularly imprisons journalists, including on the grounds of “espionage.” The government also restricts access to the internet and critical content online.

Source: Anna Fleck, “Freedom, Corruption, Democracy: Russia’s Poor Record,” Statista, 26 March 2025

Sunday Reader No. 1: Noodles

Hand Pulled Noodles: How To Make Classic Uyghur Laghman From Scratch | Beef Edition

Laghman noodle recipe: all purpose flour 250 gr • two pinches of salt • water 110ml

Laghman sauce: beef 237 gr • sunflower/corn oil 110ml • onion 1x • long green paprika 3x • sweet red paprika 1/2 • tomato 2x, 218 gr • ginger powder 1/2 tsp • ground Szichuan pepper 1 tsp • salt 1tsp • soy sauce 1tbsp • water 110ml

Source: Dolan Chick (YouTube), 20 December 2020

Riot police disperse protesters in Baymak, Bashkortostan, on 17 January 2024. Photo: Anya Marchenkova/AFP via Getty Images via *Foreign Policy*

On Wednesday, a local court in the Orenburg region handed out prison sentences to four participants of peaceful rallies in support of Indigenous activist Fayil Alsynov.

Up to 5,000 people gathered in Bashkortostan’s southeastern Baymak district in January last year to protest the imprisonment of Alsynov, a prominent Indigenous rights and environmental campaigner. The protests were followed by sweeping arrests.

Aydar Yusupov, Ilnaz Makhmutov, Zaki Ilyasov and Vallyam Mutallapov, who will spend from three to four years in a penal colony, are among more than 80 men and women facing criminal prosecution in the “Baymak case,” the largest political trial in Russia’s history.

To mark the first anniversary of the Baymak events, Kremlin-installed authorities in Bashkortostan released a propaganda film “The Anatomy of Bashkir Nationalism. The Baymak Tragedy” produced by state-aligned journalist Timur Valitov.

In her piece for From the Republics, Bashkort social researcher Iliuza Mukhamedianova considers why regional authorities invested in the film and aired it during prime time, as well as how carefully crafted smear campaign against the protesters could impact Bashkortostan’s civil society.

Kremlin-Funded Propaganda Fuels Destabilization in Bashkortostan

By Iliuza Mukhamedianova

25 minutes. That’s how much time the creators of “The Anatomy of Bashkir Nationalism” dedicate to speaking about the local national organization “Bashqort.” This is almost a third of the entire movie.

But why pay such close attention to an organization dismantled back in 2020, long before the protests in Baymak?

Perhaps, that’s the easiest way to construct an image of an almighty enemy.

In the film, “Bashqort” — an organization that aimed to reinstate Bashkortostan’s sovereignty and preserve the Bashkort language and culture — is portrayed as the ultimate evil. The filmmakers place sole responsibility for the Baymak protests on “Bashqort” members, accusing them of “extremism” and collaboration with “foreign enemy states.”

Demonizing an organization that no longer exists helps to absolve Bashkortostan’s authorities of responsibility, legitimizes their actions, and justifies their brutal response to the protests.

The film also glances over the fact that protests in Baymak were not organized by a single group like “Bashqort” or one individual but were instead a grassroots action, an organic reaction to the sentencing of activist Fayil Alsynov.

Neither does the film mention who killed protester Rifat Dautov or who tortured the many Baymak detainees. And that’s truly a shame because these are the questions we, the people of Baymak, would like to have answered.

The Baymak protests would not have gained momentum without extensive media coverage — the authorities understand this well.

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Closer to the Edge: Plagiarism Disguised as Gonzo Journalism

A screenshot of Closer to the Edge’s homepage (22 March 2025)

Plagiarizing other people’s reporting and translating and bravery, as Closer to the Edge has done with Russian dissident and political prisoner Alexander Skobov’s closing statement and just-concluded trial, is despicable. I looked at the “About” page on their Substack and discovered this bit of sophistry as an explanation of their journalistic highway robbery:

As for sources—sure, we could lace every article with footnotes and hyperlinks, but let’s be real: a name and a citation don’t mean much in a world where half of Washington is reading scripts written by billionaires and lobbyists. Sources can be biased, corrupt, cherry-picked, or outright fabricated, and if you need proof of that, just look at the gibbering circus act that is the modern Republican Party. These are people who think “alternative facts” are a valid concept and that the guy who bankrupted a casino somehow knows how to fix the economy. You think they care about good sourcing?

Besides, bogging our writing down with a mess of citations and academic formalities would wreck the flow faster than a Senate hearing on TikTok. Our job isn’t to hand-hold people through a bibliography—we’re here to tell the story as it is, from the trenches, with all the blood, chaos, and absurdity intact. If you want a research paper, head to JSTOR. If you want the truth with its teeth bared, you’re in the right place.

It’s telling that Closer to the Edge is clueless about the egregious circumstances of Skobov’s actual trial. They paint a vivid picture of Skobov confronting the judges and other shameless Putinist law enforcement officials directly in the courtroom: “On March 21, 2025, the 67-year-old Soviet-era dissident walked into a Russian courtroom, stared down the agents of Vladimir Putin’s dictatorship, and set himself ablaze in words.”

In fact, Skobov took part in the trial via video link from an empty courtroom in Syktyvkar, while the judges meted out their verdict against him over a thousand kilometers away in Skobov’s hometown of St. Petersburg, without looking Skobov in the eye or even breathing the same air as he breathed.

So much for “tell[ing] the story as it is, from the trenches.” ||| TRR

Alexander Skobov: “We Are Witnessing a Disgusting Attempt at a Purely Imperialist Collusion Between Two Predators”

Today, the 1st Western District Military Court sentenced 67-year-old dissident Alexander Skobov to 16 years in prison and fined him 300,000 rubles (just over $3,500). Skobov, who first faced criminal prosecution in the USSR, was convicted under charges of “participation in the activities of a terrorist community” (for his involvement with the Free Russia Forum, a Russian opposition conference abroad) and “justification of terrorism” (for his social media posts and articles). Mediazona publishes Skobov’s closing statement from today’s trial—a passionate speech in which he continues to openly support Ukraine, defies persecution and denounces judges as accomplices of Putin’s war crimes.

I will not dwell on the fact that the investigation has branded the organisation I have the honour of belonging to, the Free Russia Forum, as a terrorist community. There has been no official ruling from any government body recognising the Free Russia Forum as such. For now, it is merely an “undesirable organization.”

But I have little interest in all this petty mumbling. I prefer to speak about what truly matters. What matters here is the platform of the Free Russia Forum, a platform I was directly involved in shaping, and one that distinguishes the Free Russia Forum from most other opposition organisations.

Let me remind you that this platform is built on three principles. First: we stand for the unconditional return to Ukraine of all its internationally recognised territories occupied by Russia, including Crimea. Yes, Крим це Україна. [Crimea is (part of) Ukraine — TRR.]

Second. We support all those who are fighting to achieve these goals—including citizens of the Russian Federation who have voluntarily joined the Armed Forces of Ukraine.

And third. We recognise any form of war against Putin’s tyranny inside Russia, including armed resistance. Of course, we are deeply disgusted by the methods of ISIS, when innocent people are targeted, as was the case in Crocus City.

But are the Kremlin’s war propagandists a legitimate target? The Free Russia Forum has not formally debated this issue or adopted any resolutions on it, so what I say next reflects my personal position alone.

I believe that propagandists such as TV host Vladimir Solovyov deserve the same fate as Hitler’s chief propagandist Julius Streicher, who was hanged by the Nuremberg Tribunal. Until these outcasts of the human race are brought before a new Nuremberg Tribunal—and as long as this war continues—they remain legitimate military targets.

For me, the comparison between Putin’s and Hitler’s propagandists is not mere rhetoric. Much of my public writings has been devoted to proving the inherently Nazi nature of Putin’s regime—a regime with which peaceful coexistence is fundamentally impossible.

I appeal now, as I have before, first and foremost to Europe, which should remember the origins of the current European system. Since 1945, Europe has been building a world in which predators no longer prevailed, a world based on the principles of law, justice, freedom, and humanity. Europe had achieved much on this path and seemed to have rid itself of massacres and territorial redistributions forever.

Europe once believed that this safe and prosperous world was securely protected by a great powerful ally across the ocean. Today, this world is being torn to splinters by two scoundrels on both sides: the Kremlin and Washington. People with pro-fascist values have come to power in the United States.

We are witnessing a disgusting attempt at a purely imperialist collusion between two predators. An even more despicable collusion than the Munich Betrayal of 1938. If Putin’s annexations are legalised, it will spell disaster for civilization. Europe, you have been betrayed. Wake up and go fight for your world!

Death to the Russian fascist invaders! Death to Putin, the new Hitler, murderer and scoundrel! Glory to Ukraine! Glory to the heroes!

I usually end my speeches with these words. But today I will be further asked whether I plead guilty.

Well, I am the accuser here.

I accuse Putin’s corpse-stinking clique of planning, unleashing, and waging an aggressive war. Of committing war crimes in Ukraine. Of orchestrating political terror in Russia. Of corrupting my people.

And now, I ask the servants of Putin’s regime present here, mere cogs in the repressive machine: do you find yourselves guilty of complicity in Putin’s crimes? Do you repent?

And with that, I’ve said all I needed to say.

Source: “‘I am the accuser here—I accuse Putin’s corpse‑stinking clique’: Closing statement of dissident Alexander Skobov, sentenced to 16 years in prison,” Mediazona, 21 March 2025

A Russian military court sentenced Soviet-era dissident Alexander Skobov to 16 years in prison on charges of justifying terrorism and being a member of a terrorist organization, the exiled news outlet Mediazona reported Friday.

Skobov, 67, was arrested in April on allegations that he justified an attack on the Russian-built Crimea Bridge in an online post and was a member of the Lithuania-based liberal opposition platform Free Russia Forum, which Russian authorities have outlawed as “undesirable.”

A military court in St. Petersburg convicted Skobov on both charges and sentenced him to serve his time in a maximum-security prison.

Prosecutors had requested an 18-year sentence for Skobov, whose health had deteriorated significantly during pre-trial detention.news

In a defiant last statement in court, Skobov condemned both Russian and U.S. leaders as “predators” engaged in an “imperialist conspiracy” in Ukraine.

“Death to the Russian fascist invaders! Death to Putin, the new Hitler, the murderer and scoundrel! Glory to Ukraine!” Mediazona quoted Skobov as saying.

“I’m the one blaming you here. I accuse Putin’s ruling clique, which stinks of corpses, of preparing, unleashing and waging an aggressive war,” Skobov added.

Russia’s Justice Ministry designated Skobov as a “foreign agent” in March 2024. He is among the few outspoken critics of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine to remain inside the country despite the risk of facing criminal charges under wartime censorship laws.

A dissident since the late 1970s, Skobov was convicted twice and subjected to punitive psychiatric treatment for “anti-Soviet propaganda.”

Source: “Military Court Jails Soviet-Era Dissident Skobov 16 Years for ‘Justifying Terrorism,’” Moscow Times, 21 March 2025

Desperate for Your Love

Montserrat Caballé Festival

7 p.m., 28 March 2025, Oktyabrsky Concert Hall

Duration: 2 hours

Performers: MONTSERRAT MARTÍ CABALLE (soprano), OSCAR ENCINAS (tenor), LUCÍA GARCÍA (soprano), CARLOS COSÍAS (tenor), OLGA PUDOVA

A Russian premiere!

THE MONSERRAT CABALLÉ FESTIVAL

On 28 March 2025, the Oktyabrsky Concert Hall will host a magnificent musical celebration, the first Monserrat Caballé Festival, dedicated to the great Spanish opera singer.

Specially for this event, renowned artists from Spain — relatives, friends, and students of the legendary opera diva — will come to Russia for one evening only! For their one and only performance they have chosen the beautiful St. Petersburg, our country’s musical capital, and the Oktyabrsky Concert Hall, where a distinct atmosphere always reigns.

Monserrat Caballé, whose name has come to symbolize impeccable vocals and subtle artistry, has left an indelible mark on world culture. Having performed over 100 opera roles and almost 1,000 different musical works, she has forever remained in the hearts of not only connoisseurs of exquisite classical music but also fans of musicals and fans of pop rock for performances like the title song from the album Barcelona, the international mega hit she recorded with Queen lead signer Freddie Mercury. Monserrat adored Russia and often visited our country to give concerts. The Caballé family thus decided to hold the first music festival named after her in our country.

The Monserrat Caballé Festival is meant to preserve the superstar’s historical legacy and introduce the public to today’s talents, the most popular performers continuing the Spanish school of opera’s rich traditions.

Among the performers are the great singer’s daughter, MONTSERRAT MARTÍ CABALLÉ (soprano), and the famous Spanish voices OSCAR ENCINAS (tenor), LUCÍA GARCÍA (soprano), and CARLOS COSÍAS (tenor). OLGA PUDOVA, a guest soloist at the Bolshoi and Mariinsky theaters, a phenomenal coloratura soprano who has already conquered Europe’s principal opera stages, is a special guest from Russia.

The artists will be accompanied by OLGA PUDOVA, well known to Russian and international audiences, and the famous conductor MIKHAIL GOLIKOV, People’s Artist of Kabardino-Balkaria. Creative teams from St. Petersburg and Moscow will also be involved in the concert.

The Monserrat Caballe Festival is not only a tribute to the legendary singer but also a grand exuberant celebration, aimed at a wide range of spectators and embracing all generations and the most varied musical tastes.

Don’t miss the opportunity to gift yourself an unforgettable evening full of vivid emotions, beautiful melodies and Spanish passion!

Source: Bileter.ru. Translated by the Russian Reader

On 20 October 2012, during her tour in Russia, Caballé suffered a stroke in Yekaterinburg and was quickly transferred to the Hospital de Sant Pau in Barcelona.

Source: “Montserrat Caballé” (Wikipedia)

In his Literary Life, [Joseph] Brodsky’s friend Lev Loseff explained the background of “A Halt in the Desert,” a poem about the destruction of a beautiful old building: “One night Brodsky watched the first stages in the razing of the Greek Orthodox church from the apartment of his friends, two sisters from a Tatar family,” and called the poem “a meditation on the symbolic significance of what has just happened: Russia has broken with its Christian and Hellenistic cultural heritage.” Brodsky writes:

So few Greeks live in Leningrad today
that we have razed a Greek church, to make space
for a new concert hall, built in today’s
grim and unhappy style. . . .
it is sad that from this distance now
we see, not the familiar onion domes,
but a grotesquely flattened silhouette.

The deliberately created “fresh ruins” and “open altar wounds” recall the recent wartime devastations. The biblical allusion in “Thou who doest sow” suggests the threat of retribution in Hosea 8:7, “they have sown the wind and they shall reap the whirlwind.” Brodsky concludes by hopelessly asking:

What lies ahead? Does a new epoch wait
for us? And if it does, what duty do we owe?–
What sacrifices must we make for it?

Loseff claimed that Brodsky condemns “the collective guilt of a nation that produced this regime, that refused to accept the historical alternative, the heritage of Greece and Greek democracy.” But the Russians did not refuse to accept the heritage of Greece. They were not consulted and had no choice. An atheistic Communist system had been imposed on them by deadly force after the Revolution of 1917 and brutally maintained by all successive regimes. It was now the poet’s responsibility to preserve this culture.

Source: Jeffrey Meyers, “Brodsky’s Travels: From Leningrad to Venice,” Fortnightly Review, 8 November 2020