At the end of 2022, Russian President Vladimir Putin canceled his annual “Direct Line” to avoid covering questions about the full-scale war that Russia launched against Ukraine. It took a little more than a year for Putin to make sure his address to the nation could be smoothly orchestrated toward his goals: presenting himself as a genuine and caring president and a gifted and knowledgeable military leader while being none of these.

In December 2023, Putin re-appeared on Russian TV screens to tell his people that they are not annihilating Ukraine. Rather, they are fighting for Russia’s unity and independence, which are under permanent Western attack.

One may brush off the return of the “Direct Line,” saying that in Russia, nobody cares about what Putin says. This is quite naïve. Russians may not care about what the man who rules them says. But this is not the point. The bottom line is that Putin has regained his confidence to make public appearances, feeling that his nation could be shaped and manipulated, once again, toward silence and contentment.

How can one tolerate the annihilation of an independent state and the killing of civilians? The answer might be too disturbing and too uncomfortable for those who are unwilling to abandon their misleading preconceptions of Russia’s “greatness.” It does not matter whether Russians listen to their president directly by following his speeches and addresses or indirectly by quitting the TV channels and turning to other social media platforms. In fact, they do not have to listen to Putin — the political consciousness in Russia has been saturated with violence and intolerance toward Ukraine in particular.

At present, Putin does not have to worry about creating a favorable context — it has already been created, shaped and well-secured, and it is there to stay for a long time, alas.

As the Kremlin continues its imperial and genocidal war against Ukraine, civil resistance in Russia seems to be nonexistent. Many silently watch the daily crimes their country commits in Ukraine. Of course, many Russians left their country in protest, but some fled the country to escape mobilization, which has little to do with their political stance against the fascist regime that the Kremlin embodies today. If there are powerful Russian voices that are attempting to wake up Russian society, they indeed have not reached their compatriots in Russia.

Why did civil resistance in Russia fail in 2022 and 2014? Why did Russian society choose silence in 2023? Why did the outcry in Russian society fail when the Kremlin tested its military tactics in Chechnya and Georgia? This is not an insinuation to implicate the nation. But the nation, like any other nation, should take responsibility for empowering a political leader for nearly 25 years.

This would not be surprising if Russia was not positioning itself as a democracy, at least until 2022. In his preposterous speeches, Putin continues to tell the world that Russia today is an open and democratic society, and the Russian leadership seeks to protect Russia’s multinational unity and provide the international community with multipolarity. Unfortunately, even today, when international organizations document Russia’s numerous genocidal crimes, still a handful of countries accept Putin’s ludicrous statements at face value.

Many still hope to understand the failure of civil resistance in Russia. The “great Russian culture” revealed its void when the time came to speak up — it failed not once, not twice, but continuously. Maybe answers are too simple and too discomforting.

In Russia, human life has long been devalued. The culture honored with the title “great” was widely misunderstood, misread and unjustly put above other cultures — a privilege that no culture should have. The current tolerance toward violence and acceptance of the criminal regime that the Russian society has put itself into is very telling.

How else can one explain why warmongers such as Yevgeniy Prigozhin are turned into national heroes? The very person who recruited Russians to come to Ukraine to kill is venerated as one of the leaders who deserves collective respect.

Russia has been capitalizing on the fake notion of its “great culture” while embracing arrogance, chauvinism and violence. This is not Russophobia, as many in Russia would describe these lines — Russia normalizes violence and brutality not only at home but abroad as well. The last 30 years reveal Russia’s priority to generate military aggression. Before attacking Ukraine, it has been practicing its tactics of intimidation and killing in Chechnya, Georgia, Moldova and Armenia.

One may wonder why Russian society is silent. While some Russians support the war or remove themselves from any political involvement, there are others who silently disagree with the government’s decisions. For them, their silence is justified. They do not want to lose their comfortable jobs, or they fear for their own life and the lives of loved ones. Also, some simply do not see Russia’s war against Ukraine as a series of genocidal crimes and international violations. In their opinion, Ukraine is part of Russia.

Silence is complicity, silence is support of the regime that kills and intimidates. As a result, the nation surrenders, silently accepts the brutalities of the government, and obediently collaborates with the Kremlin on the crimes that the state rhetoric turns into heroic deeds.

It took a little bit more than a year for the Russian people to get used to and normalize the genocide that their country continues to commit. Their silence is loud and visible. After all, in Russians’ view, the Kremlin does not commit crimes, especially murder — Russia “saves” and “liberates” “the poor lost Ukrainians” who are led by President Zelensky of Ukraine and his “neo-Nazi” government.

Russian society has generated a strong immune system not to be disturbed by what it silently supports: the ongoing murder of Ukrainians, the elimination of the Ukrainian culture and identity, and the total destruction of the Ukrainians’ land, their sovereignty, and their home. In Russia, the political consciousness has long adopted the superiority of Russians and their leaders — Russia continues to see Ukraine as its “younger brother” who needs help.

Nataliya Shpylova-Saeed teaches Ukrainian at the Department of Slavic Languages and Literatures at Harvard University. She wrote this for InsideSources.com.

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