The Road to Unfreedom: Russia, Europe, America

Chapter 5 starts with a discussion of Russia’s politics of eternity, portrayed by Vladislav Surkov, an architect of modern Russian media strategy, in his novel Almost Zero, where he articulates the view that ignorance is bliss and uncertainty fosters hope. Under this philosophy, Russian media, controlled by the state, recycles a narrative that external forces perpetually victimize Russia. This narrative shapes public perception by keeping citizens in a state of managed ignorance, ensuring they reject factual information and resist meaningful political engagement. Television, particularly state-run channels like Russia Today (RT), plays a crucial role in this by broadcasting consistent messages that vilify the West and dismiss any need for internal reform or factual reporting.

Dmitry Kiselev, a key figure in Russian media, emphasized that modern warfare is predominantly an information war. He initiated media strategies that reshaped the 2014 invasion of Ukraine into a narrative that obscured and denied factual realities. In this conflict, Russia deployed political before traditional military forces, showcasing a war fought on the fronts of perception and media. The Kremlin ideologists Vladislav Surkov and Alexander Borodai were instrumental in this approach, blurring the lines between military aggression and local uprising. This strategy involved not only direct misinformation—denying Russian military presence and actions—but also crafting a narrative that positioned Russia as the innocent party, heroically resisting Western aggression. This manipulation extended to the physical appearance of Russian troops sent to Ukraine, who were without Russian insignia to appear as local partisans, thereby complicating the factual reporting of the invasion and enabling Russia to maintain a facade of plausible deniability and moral righteousness.

Snyder describes how the early 2014 Russian campaign in Crimea was quickly successful and was followed by a more complex intervention in southeastern Ukraine, in the region called Donbass. This campaign employed tactics like “implausible deniability” (163) (the tactic of denying facts that are well-known, in order to create confusion) and “reverse asymmetry” (165) (the tactic of employing the instruments of unprepared military forces on the ground in order to appear weaker than one really is) to mask the invasion with a veneer of victimhood, aligning with the politics of eternity. Putin, drawing on historical narratives, reframed Ukrainian territories as historically Russian, using the term Novorossiia (the New Russia, referring the Eastern and Southern regions of Ukraine) to justify aggression. Despite Russian efforts, the broader campaign faltered. Interventions in cities like Kharkiv, Odessa, and Dnipropetrovsk failed to gain local support, and only parts of Donetsk and Luhansk showed any significant success. The narrative of liberation and protection pushed by Russia did not resonate widely among the local populations.

By May 2014, the Russian intervention’s initial momentum faltered as the small Ukrainian army began reclaiming territory, prompting urgent Russian reinforcements like the Vostok Battalion, composed mostly of Chechen citizens. This force, along with other Russian volunteers, faced significant setbacks, notably when they attempted to attack Donetsk airport. The casualties among these forces were largely ignored by Russian media. As the conflict dragged on, Russia shifted its strategy from aggressive expansion to stabilizing the regions it occupied, aiming to create a permanent state of unrest that would disrupt Ukraine’s political and economic stability. This approach led to a “frozen conflict” status (173), manipulated to serve broader Russian geopolitical narratives against the West.

On July 12, 2014, Russia escalated its military involvement in Ukraine, launching a substantial artillery campaign from its territory, overwhelming Ukrainian forces with superior firepower. This intense shelling, unreciprocated due to international political constraints on Ukraine to not strike on Russian territory, underscored a severe asymmetry in the conflict. Civilians near the Russian border lived undisturbed by the violence they facilitated, encapsulated in a narrative of fighting fascism, while Ukrainian border residents suffered severely. Snyder adds that Russian media further manipulated public perception by fabricating atrocities supposedly committed by the Ukrainians, such as the debunked story of a child’s crucifixion by Ukrainian forces. Such fabricated examples reinforced the image of Russian victimhood and justifying the ongoing military offensive.

In the summer of 2014, Russia launched a potent counterattack against Ukrainian forces by supplying advanced anti-aircraft systems. The Ukrainian air force faced severe losses, losing control over the airspace in conflict zones. This strategic shift allowed Russian forces and their allies to gain a significant advantage on the ground. Notably, on July 17, a Russian Buk anti-aircraft missile system, transported from Kursk to eastern Ukraine, downed civilian airliner Malaysia Airlines Flight 17, flying from Amsterdam to Kuala Lumpur, killing all passengers and staff aboard. This incident marked a pivotal moment in the war, impacting international perceptions of the conflict. Russian media manipulated the narrative, initially claiming that Ukraine was responsible for the tragedy, fostering confusion and misinformation to obscure the truth of Russian involvement.

During the Russian intervention in Ukraine, Russian media did not report on the ongoing Russian artillery attacks or the Russian military buildup at the Ukrainian border. Instead, Russian viewers were shown a staged motorcycle show by the Night Wolves in Sevastopol, Crimea—a region annexed by Russia. This event, while ostensibly a motorcycle rally, served as a platform for broadcasting fascist themes to the Russian public, glorifying Stalinism and framing the Russian invasion of Ukraine as a heroic defense against modern threats. The event mixed historical revisionism with theatrical propaganda, portraying Ukraine as an enemy and echoing Stalinist narratives to justify aggression and suppress Ukrainian identity and historical suffering.

Meanwhile, Russian artillery cleared Ukrainian troops from border areas, making way for larger incursions by Russian forces. The narrative fed to Russian volunteers depicted Ukraine as a fascist threat, compelling them to fight in what they believed was a defensive war. Large numbers of Russian troops, including ethnic minorities less likely to be reported on by Russian media, were stationed near Ukraine, ready to cross the border. Public narratives focused on defending against Western aggression while actual military actions expanded Russian influence and territory through direct involvement in conflict regions in Ukraine.

Snyder argues that the term “hybrid war” understates the multidimensional nature of Russia’s military aggression against Ukraine (193), diminishing its violence. Beyond conventional warfare, Russia executed extensive cyberattacks. These attacks targeted Ukraine’s Central Election Commission in May 2014, manipulated election results, and disrupted the Ukrainian power grid multiple times between 2015 and 2016. This cyber warfare extended to penetrating key US systems, including the White House and the State Department, indicating a broader strategy to undermine Western infrastructures. Ultimately, Snyder argues that Russia’s aggression extends beyond physical warfare to encompass information warfare, aiming to undermine factual consensus and manipulate public perception in Russia and internationally.

In 2014, a scandal involving secretly recorded conversations of Polish politicians from the Civic Platform party exposed their private discussions, ultimately contributing to the party’s downfall. These recordings included unguarded comments by politicians, such as Foreign Minister Radosław Sikorski, and were leaked in a manner that linked them to entities associated with Russian interests. The exposure of these private conversations fueled public distrust and played into broader narratives of surveillance and control reminiscent of Poland’s totalitarian past. This scandal shifted the political landscape, paving the way for the right-wing Law and Justice party to come to power. The incident helped foster a climate of suspicion and lead to the resurgence of nationalist and authoritarian politics in Poland.

Snyder ends Chapter 5 by arguing that political fiction is not unique to Russia, but figures like Ilyin and Surkov shaped it based on Russian contexts and ambitions. Such politics are global, including in Britain and the US, where Russia’s strategic approach involved portraying reforms as impossible and promoting global distrust. These tactics destabilize Western trust in institutions, inducing social and political disintegration similar to Russian conditions. Russian propaganda has been echoed by the European far-right, blending domestic politics with broader anti-European sentiments.