22.10.2026
Who we support in Russia
While it is correct to oppose Nato’s proxy war in Ukraine, we cannot support Russia or ignore the reactionary nature of Putin’s dictatorial regime. Instead, argues Yassamine Mather, we should look to the anti-war left
Russia’s invasion of Ukraine allowed western powers to pose as defenders of small nations and their right to self-determination. It is a sham (as shown in no uncertain terms by Palestine).
Behind the talk of solidarity and standing alongside Ukraine’s brave people, there is the drive to win public opinion to choose guns over butter and the grand strategy of defeating Russia and then breaking it apart and/or separating it from its ‘no limits partnership’ with China. Hence, in the imperialist countries we oppose Nato and its hugely dangerous geostrategic ambitions. We also reject out of hand the idea that Nato offers a progressive alternative. However, that does not mean supporting Russia or Vladimir Putin.
Several things shaped Moscow’s thinking before February 2022. Russia was worried about its Black Sea fleet and Nato expanding eastward. But its lease on the Sevastopol base had already been extended to 2042, so fear of losing the base cannot on its own explain its invasion. Russian leaders have questioned whether Ukraine is really a separate nation and claimed a special right to influence its domestic and international politics. Together, all this points to a mixture of security worries, nationalism and regional ambition. Nato expansion is part of the background, but it is not the only reason for the current war.
In October Donald Trump decided to waive some sanctions on Russian fuel exports. Some people now accuse Washington of moving closer to Moscow. Former British defence secretary Ben Wallace reads Trump’s approach as actually siding with Russia. But this overlooks the political and economic pressures on American policy. With the November midterm elections fast approaching, high fuel prices are hurting Trump at home.
The war with Iran disrupted Gulf energy supplies and problems with Saudi oil production and exports have made this worse. There is no sign that energy markets will settle down any time soon. The easing of restrictions on Russian fuel can be understood as an attempt to hold down energy costs at home, not a basic shift in strategy towards the Kremlin. True, the waiver may help Russian exporters and ease the economic pressure on Moscow.
The difference matters, because Washington has not given up on Ukraine. Despite disputes over weapons deliveries, sanctions and satellite communications, American intelligence remains central to Ukraine’s war effort. On October 18, after talks with US representatives in Oslo, Volodymyr Zelenskyy confirmed that intelligence sharing on Russian missile strikes had resumed. He said it “works now” and thanked the Americans. This shows how much Ukraine still depends on US support, even as the Trump administration uses its control of key military capabilities to pressurise Kyiv.
European governments, including Britain, now provide a larger share of Ukraine’s financial and military support. But they have not replaced what one Ukrainian official called the American monopoly over three crucial capabilities: intelligence, ballistic-missile interceptors and the Starlink satellite network, including its military version, Starshield. Reports of limits on Starshield, breaks in intelligence cooperation and delays in missile deliveries show how far Ukraine relies on systems the US controls. They also show that Washington can change how involved it is without disengaging from the conflict.
These contradictions also reflect Russia’s place in the world. Its economy is much smaller than the USA’s, but it still has a large military, nuclear weapons and security institutions inherited from the Soviet era. Its capitalist ruling class is still tied into global markets. Russia depends heavily on oil and gas revenue and is vulnerable to attacks on its refineries and export facilities, which are real weak points in terms of its war economy. Higher world fuel prices can make up for some of these losses, which shows how events in the Middle East can shift the balance of the war in Ukraine.
The conflict consequently has wider geopolitical dimensions. Western military and intelligence assistance underlines that the Russia-Ukraine war is, in fact, a proxy war between Russia and Nato. Russia’s political and economic relationship with China also links the conflict indirectly to the wider US-China rivalry. Washington’s policy is shaped by several competing considerations: containing Russian military power, maintaining influence over European security, managing energy prices and limiting the domestic political costs of prolonged international confrontation. Trump’s sanctions waiver and continued military cooperation with Ukraine are not necessarily contradictory, when viewed within this broader framework.
Sanctions
Sanctions have imposed substantial costs on Russian finance, trade, technology access and energy exports, without producing the immediate economic collapse that some initially predicted. Their effects are uneven: import substitution, rerouted trade and wartime production have allowed adaptation, while fiscal pressures, inflation and technological constraints continue to accumulate. The European Union adopted its 21st sanctions package on July 23, adding 218 individual and entity listings and measures affecting banking, crypto services, oil refining, dual-use goods and vessels associated with Russia’s shadow fleet. The EU also paused automatic adjustment of the oil price cap until July 2027 amid exceptional energy-market disruption. Sanctions must therefore be assessed as changing political instruments, not as a single, unaltered blockade.
Sanctioned elites have tried to protect their wealth through complicated ownership structures, trusts, relatives, lawsuits and moving assets abroad. Meanwhile, trading networks have sent goods through third countries, and shadow-fleet tankers have kept oil exports going. Such practices show how global capitalism creates many loopholes around sanctions.
But the costs fall unevenly on ordinary Russians. Higher prices, less access to imported equipment and pressure on public services hit wage-earners and pensioners harder than the rich (some of the hardship comes from the Kremlin’s own military spending, taxes and domestic restrictions, not just western measures). There is no such thing as pressure aimed only at the war machine: sanctions have affected most of the population, especially where access to medicines and healthcare is at stake.
The contradiction is clearest when Ukrainian attacks on Russian oil facilities threaten the income needed to keep the invasion going, while disruption to global fuel supplies gives Washington a reason to ease some restrictions. However, the October 2026 waiver did not end all US sanctions on Russia: US secretary of state Marco Rubio described a 60-day review period, while members of Congress from both parties criticised the easing of pressure on Moscow. Its longer-term consequences remain uncertain.
Repression
Russia did not arrive at dictatorship overnight. After the short, harsh crackdown of 1993, when former president Boris Yeltsin clashed with parliament, there was a return to fairly broad political freedom. Then came a step-by-step tightening. The Chechen wars and anti-terror campaigns gave the security services more power. The protests of 2011-12 led to new foreign agent laws and stricter rules on rallies. Meanwhile, the annexation of Crimea created acute tensions and not only with Ukraine. During the pandemic, surveillance expanded and opposition gatherings were banned. The full-scale invasion brought even tighter restrictions on opposition voices.
Over 25 years of Putin’s presidency, Russia has moved from a corrupt bourgeois ‘democracy’ with significant authoritarian features to a repressive dictatorship of state-monopoly capital, with only decorative democratic institutions. The war, economic strain, rising discontent and the remaining potential of the previously crushed labour movement give the regime every reason to impose further oppression. Nevertheless, opposition still exists with initiatives such as the Solidarity Action Committee and the Leftwing Political Prisoners Foundation.
Putin’s regime is not just the personal rule of one man. It rests on the Federal Security Service (FSB) and other security bodies, on a bureaucracy that rewards loyalty and on the interests of a capitalist elite closely tied to the state. This helps explain why the regime has lasted so long, and why it fears defeat or a settlement that falls short of total victory (or cannot justify the horrendous Russian losses on the front line). If the security establishment sees a concession as a strategic retreat, tensions within the ruling group could break out into the open. However, this does not mean the leadership will necessarily fall.
The invasion has accelerated a repressive system that long predates 2022. Laws against ‘discrediting’ the armed forces, draconian provisions against so-called extremism and terrorism, and ‘foreign agent’ designations have narrowed the space for political dissent. Victims include journalists, feminists, liberals and trade unionists. Socialists and anarchists have been a particular target. Various organisations have been severely weakened or forced to dissolve.
The movement known as Left Resistance has faced criminal proceedings against several of its activists, including Alyona Krylova and Igor Kuznetsov. Left Socialist Action has faced repression. One of its members, Yuri Chilikin, was detained in January 2024 for several months after receiving a 300,000-rouble fine for alleged ‘justification of terrorism’ in online comments. Artem Borodin, associated with the Revolutionary Workers Party, was detained in Donetsk in 2022 over anti-war leaflets and subsequently fled to Kyrgyzstan, where he faced renewed detention and the threat of extradition. Anti-fascists have likewise faced serious prosecutions, including cases involving alleged membership of People’s Self-Defence, which the Russian authorities designated a terrorist organisation in 2022.
Some have simply thrown in the towel. The Russian Socialist Movement announced its closure in May 2024 after being designated a ‘foreign agent’. In May 2025, the Trotskyist organisation, Workers Power, also dissolved following police searches and the arrest of activist Garri Azaryan on charges of publicly advocating terrorism.
There are a few cases that have gained global attention. The Marxist historian Boris Kagarlitsky was given five years, Ilya Yashin, a former Moscow municipal councillor, eight and a half years. Then there is Sergei Udaltsov, one of the leaders of the pro-war Left Front (which is close to the Communist Party of the Russian Federation). Udaltsov is a convinced follower of Joseph Stalin. What he objected to was the corruption and vote rigging.
Independent trade union activity has also come under pressure. Kirill Ukraintsev, a leader of the Kurier union, spent more than nine months in pre-trial detention after organising workers and participating in protests. Another Kurier union organiser, Said Shamkhalov, was reportedly beaten following a demonstration. Anton Orlov, a coordinator of healthcare workers’ union Action in Bashkortostan, was sentenced to six and a half years in prison on fraud charges in September 2022. Orlov denied the charges and maintained that his prosecution was connected to his trade union activity. Anatoly Bannykh, an independent union leader at the Ural vehicle plant in Miass, was detained for five days in January 2025 for allegedly displaying extremist symbols in an old social media photograph.
The authorities have also restricted international trade union solidarity. In September 2023, the International Transport Workers’ Federation was declared an ‘undesirable organisation’, followed by the IndustriALL (sic) Global Union in January 2024. These decisions forced Russian-affiliated unions, including organisations representing seafarers and other transport and industrial workers, to break their formal international links. The International Labour Organisation has criticised these restrictions as blatant interference in trade union rights.
Despite these pressures, networks supporting political prisoners, independent workers’ organisations and smaller socialist and anarchist groups manage to survive. This shows that political opposition and labour activism have not disappeared, even though their ability to organise openly has been severely restricted. International solidarity remains important, but it should be based on a realistic understanding of their limited organisational strength and the difficulties they face.
Russian repression is not a single policy, but a layered system. Targeted repression is aimed at activists and organisations judged dangerous or too non-conformist, with the aim of removing them from public life. Alongside this runs what can be called chaotic repression, driven by police quotas and by denunciations from zealous pro-war activists. An anti-war comment indistinguishable from thousands of others can bring a fine of 30,000 to 50,000 roubles (one or two months’ wages for an ordinary worker) or a prison term. The case of paediatrician Nadezhda Buyanova, reported by a patient’s mother over a remark about the war, became emblematic. The randomness is itself functional: people fear punishment without knowing how likely it is.
Two other methods do not involve criminal charges at all. First, the police raid places where certain groups meet, such as migrant workers’ accommodation, gatherings where people are encouraged to write letters to political prisoners or even gay and lesbian bars. They detain people, check their documents and often humiliate them, usually without bringing any charges. The aim is to terrify people and spread fear throughout the population. Second, the police put pressure on known activists by visiting their homes or workplaces, calling them in for questioning and forcing them to sign formal warnings. This pressure often increases before elections, protests or visits by government officials. The aim is to wear activists down, so that only those who can cope with constant police harassment continue with political activity.
The system is built to escalate. Persecution typically begins with fines and short administrative arrests of five to 15 days, and turns criminal when the target persists. The 2014 ‘Dadin article’, which made three breaches of protest rules within 180 days punishable by up to five years in prison, set the pattern. The charge of ‘discrediting the armed forces’, introduced in the first month of the invasion, works the same way: a first offence brings a fine of up to 50,000 roubles, while a repeat ‘offence’ is treated as a case demanding imprisonment. By September 2024 roughly 94,000 administrative cases had been brought under it. Charges for ‘displaying extremist symbols’ are equally useful to the regime, since an activist’s social media history can almost always yield something, including satirical or critical uses of Nazi imagery.
Harsher forms of repression rely on criminal laws against spreading allegedly ‘fake’ comments about the army, repeatedly ‘discrediting’ the armed forces, ‘justifying terrorism’, high treason and sabotage. These offences can carry not only heavy fines, but prison sentences ranging from a few years to decades. People accused of ‘terrorism’ or ‘extremism’ offences can also be placed on the state’s register of terrorists and extremists before conviction, restricting their access to bank accounts and employment. Some remain on the register for years after their release.
The scale of repression is considerably greater than official lists of political prisoners suggest. Memorial (one of Russia’s best-known human rights organisations) listed 1,265 political prisoners at the end of 2025, but its wider database recorded 4,843 people deprived of liberty in politically motivated criminal cases, including many whose cases had not yet been assessed. Religious prisoners - particularly Muslims, prosecuted under anti-extremism and terrorism laws, and Jehovah’s Witnesses - now make up a substantial part of the prison population. Treason and terrorism prosecutions have also increased sharply, often taking place behind closed doors.
Beyond those imprisoned, OVD-Info, another rights organisation that monitors police activities, documented more than 20,000 anti-war detentions between February 2022 and July 2025, alongside thousands of administrative cases. These figures reveal a system of repression extending far beyond the relatively small number of officially recognised political prisoners.
Mass protest can also bring severe punishment, when the authorities declare it to be ‘dangerous’. In Baymak, Bashkortostan, between 5,000 and 10,000 people protested against the prosecution of the Bashkir nationalist, Fail Alsynov, in January 2024. The demonstration was treated as mass disorder and violence against officials - more than 80 participants were prosecuted and faced sentences of three to six years in prison, making it one of the largest political cases in recent Russian history.
The authorities are also moving more quickly towards criminal prosecution. Prosecutors increasingly bring criminal charges over online posts without first imposing administrative fines. A law passed in June 2025 makes this easier by allowing people accused of ‘inciting hatred or hostility’ under article 282 of the criminal code to face criminal charges without first receiving an administrative penalty.
As political repression increases, the Russian authorities are using more ways to silence critics, both through the courts and outside them. One is the ‘foreign agent’ law, introduced in 2012 and later expanded. People and organisations can be given this label on vague grounds, including alleged foreign ‘influence’. Those listed face restrictions on standing for election, holding public office, organising public events and working in education. They must also label their publications and provide detailed financial reports. By late 2024, hundreds of individuals and organisations had been placed on the register.
Another weapon is the official list of ‘terrorists and extremists’, maintained by Rosfinmonitoring, Russia’s financial monitoring agency. People can be added before they have been convicted of a crime. Once listed, their bank accounts and financial activities are severely restricted, making everyday life and employment difficult.
The authorities also ban groups by declaring them ‘undesirable’ or ‘extremist’. In 2023, the Supreme Court declared the so-called ‘international LGBT movement’ extremist, even though no such single organisation exists. This allows the authorities to prosecute people accused of organising or taking part in its activities. Political pressure also includes dismissal from work, expulsion from university and criminal charges unrelated to political activity. Faced with these threats, some activists simply leave Russia. Though they make up only a tiny proportion of the 650,000 to 1,750,000 who are thought to have left Russia since 2022, they are thought to number around a thousand in total.
Armed forces too
The war has also brought growing repression within the Russian army, much of it hidden from public view. Mobilisation has often involved coercion. Prisoners have been recruited with promises of freedom and find themselves in assault units which are known to suffer particularly heavy losses. Desertion, unauthorised absence and refusal to obey orders have become major problems.
According to Mediazona, a Russia-based independent media organisation, Russian military courts received nearly 16,000 criminal cases involving refusal to serve between the beginning of the invasion and the end of 2024. Most concerned soldiers who left their units without permission. In the first half of 2024 alone, 6,088 servicemen were convicted of various criminal offences, with almost half receiving prison sentences. Outside the courts, independent investigations have documented soldiers who refused to fight being locked in basements and pits, beaten, deprived of food and medical treatment, and forced back to the front. By July 2026, ASTRA, another independent Russian investigative outlet, reported that there were 29 such detention sites.
There is also growing evidence of soldiers being killed by their own commanders or deliberately sent on missions from which they were unlikely to return - a practice known as ‘zeroing out’. The full scale of these abuses remains unknown. Restrictions on military information, the reluctance of soldiers to report their commanders and the limited public attention given to their treatment have helped keep much of this repression out of sight.
Allies
The Putin government has important allies on the nationalist right, although their relationship with the state varies. The Liberal Democratic Party of Russia (LDPR), founded by Vladimir Zhirinovsky and now led by Leonid Slutsky, is a nationalist party despite its name. It has consistently supported the war in Ukraine and the Kremlin’s main foreign-policy decisions.
‘A Just Russia’, led by Sergei Mironov, combines promises of greater social protection with conservative nationalism. Its 2021 merger with Patriots of Russia and the For Truth movement brought nationalist writer Zakhar Prilepin into its leadership. The party returned to the shorter name, A Just Russia, in 2025. Rodina and other smaller nationalist organisations also support a strong Russian state and an assertive foreign policy. Although these parties compete for votes, influence and positions, they do not fundamentally challenge Putin’s political system.
Outside parliament, orthodox conservatives, monarchists and ultranationalists, such as Konstantin Malofeev and Alexander Dugin, promote the idea of Russia as a separate civilisation, opposed to western liberalism. Both have supported the war in Ukraine and advocated a more aggressive nationalist agenda.
But their influence should not be exaggerated. They are not identical to the Kremlin leadership, and some nationalists have criticised the government for failing to pursue the war more forcefully. Nevertheless, their emphasis on traditional social values, Russian nationalism and opposition to liberal democracy overlaps with important elements of official ideology. Kremlin-aligned politicians and organisations have also developed links with sections of the European far right, including Italy’s Lega. Such relationships indicate political cooperation and ideological similarities, but do not necessarily establish direct control by Moscow.
The Communist Party of the Russian Federation, led for decades by Gennady Zyuganov, remains Russia’s largest so-called opposition party in the duma. CPRF campaigns for higher pensions, greater public ownership, reduced inequality and the defence of Soviet achievements. However, its model is now the People’s Republic of China. It has sometimes challenged electoral irregularities and unpopular local government policies. Yet its leadership has generally accepted the political limits imposed by the Kremlin. Its criticism of market-oriented economic policies coexists with support for the state’s main security and foreign-policy objectives, including the invasion of Ukraine.
But the CPRF is no monolith. Some regional deputies, younger members and activists opposed the invasion, describing it as an imperialist war. Some resigned, while others were expelled from party organisations or from the duma faction. The party has also provided an opening for socialist and protest candidates to stand in elections. These differences matter, but they have not affected the leadership’s support for the war or its unwillingness to mount a sustained challenge to the political system. From an independent socialist perspective, the central question is not whether the CPRF uses old communist symbols, but whether it can defend workers’ struggles, democratic organisation and international solidarity independently of the state.
The September 2026 State Duma election further strengthened the parliamentary dominance of Putin’s United Russia. According to the official results, it won 349 of the 450 seats, compared with 37 for the CPRF, 23 for the LDPR, 19 for New People and 17 for A Just Russia. Rodina won one seat and independent candidates four. United Russia therefore retained more than the two-thirds majority required to approve constitutional amendments.
These figures, however, cannot be treated as an unrestricted expression of popular opinion. The election took place under severe restrictions on political competition, and on independent media and public opposition to the war. Yabloko, the only registered party openly opposing the invasion, was barred from contesting the federal party-list election in August. Independent election monitors also reported coercion, manipulation and other serious irregularities.
Public opinion is more complicated than either the government or its opponents sometimes suggest. It would be wrong to dismiss all Russian opinion polls as meaningless, but repression, fear of expressing dissent and the wording of questions make their results difficult to interpret. In January 2026, the independent Levada Centre reported that 76% of respondents expressed support for the Russian armed forces’ actions in Ukraine, while 61% favoured moving towards peace negotiations. These findings suggest that expressed support for the military does not necessarily mean enthusiasm for continuing the war indefinitely. At the same time, support for negotiations should not automatically be interpreted as opposition to the invasion or support for Ukrainian sovereignty.
Economic hardship also does not automatically produce political resistance. Workers and other sections of society may be dissatisfied with living conditions without believing that collective action is possible or that an alternative government would improve their situation. The ability to organise, confidence in political alternatives and the personal risks of dissent are therefore crucial. A socialist analysis must recognise these contradictions without exaggerating either the strength of popular opposition or the depth of support for the existing system.
