FOR the past three years Vladimir Putin has been fighting on two fronts. Just as his army has ruthlessly bombed Ukraine, his security machine has been purging Russia of any dissenting voices. From the start, crushing independent media that could consolidate opinion against the war was an essential counterpart to an invasion that lacked popular support.
Mr Putin might seem to be winning on both fronts. In fact, his achievements have been limited. Despite having wasted the lives of perhaps 200,000 Russian soldiers, his army is still failing to overwhelm Ukraine’s forces. And for all the clampdowns and repression, millions of Russians continue to watch, listen and read news and opinion supplied by hundreds of independent Russian journalists and bloggers operating both from Europe but also from within the country.
Read more of our recent coverage of the Ukraine war
Mr Putin must have hoped that by forcing more than 1,000 journalists into exile and arresting some of those who stayed, he would render them irrelevant. Instead they have regrouped and launched a counter-offensive. Last week hundreds of them gathered in Vienna to discuss and develop new tactics in their war for the hearts and minds of the Russian people.
Jerzy Pomianowski, who heads the European Endowment for Democracy, an EU body that gives grants to independent Russian journalists, says that supporting the exiled media is an indispensable part of Europe’s own security. “We can’t defend our democracy with tanks, drones and planes alone,” he says. “We need to have channels of communication to Russian society and the analytical capacity to understand its dynamics.”
One aim is to hobble Mr Putin’s efforts to feed his war machine. One recent investigation by the Insider, an outfit based in the West, in collaboration with other media outfits, prompted the European authorities to stop sanction-busting imports of Taiwanese-made high-precision machine tools used by Russian defence contractors. Another of its investigations identified links between the Kremlin and the hard-right Alternative for Germany.
The main goal of Russia’s media-in-exile, however, is to help keep room for free political, cultural and social exchanges within Russia itself. Some 66 media outlets and dozens of bloggers and influencers reach an audience of 10m-20m people inside the country. Their impact is hard to quantify but, says Mr Pomianowski, “Democracy is a long-term investment.”
Mr Putin understands this too. Over the past year the Kremlin has been testing a new model of digital censorship that is more restrictive than the one that operates in China. But the challenge Russia faces is far greater. China developed its internet in controlled isolation. In Russia it evolved freely, as a way of connecting to the rest of the world. More than 36% of Russians use a VPN, the highest percentage in the world. Obviously not all of them harbour anti-war views, but it shows that the internet is still contested territory.
One example is Telegram, one of Russia’s most popular messaging apps. Since the Kremlin is unable simply to ban it because of its popularity, including among its own officials and the armed forces, it has instead flooded it with its own content.
Just lock ’em up
Another technique is criminalisation. Last year the Kremlin made it illegal for anyone to advertise in any media outfit branded as a “foreign agent”. Some outlets, such as Meduza, Russia’s largest independent online media organisation, based in Europe but reliant on a network of local freelancers, are designated “undesirable”. This makes any contact with them a crime.
Nothing, though, poses as big a challenge to the Kremlin as YouTube, the most popular social-media and video-hosting platform in Russia, with a monthly reach of 96m. It has in effect become an alternative version of television, particularly among the young. Unlike Telegram, YouTube blocks the Kremlin’s propaganda channels, so its political segment is dominated by anti-war content.
This varies from TV Rain, the largest online television channel, to popular bloggers such as Maxim Katz, whose sleek and short videos regularly win a million views. As important as the content provided by independent media is the sense of community YouTube creates among Russians who feel ostracised by the state, resented by Ukrainians and ignored by the West. Alexander Plushchev, who runs a YouTube breakfast show, says the most frequent feedback he receives is “Thank you for keeping us sane”.
Dmitry Kolezev, who monitors the political segment of YouTube, estimates its monthly audience at about 15m people. What probably worries the Kremlin most is not the anti-war minority, but the silent majority who come to YouTube looking for entertainment—music, games, films and comedy—but, thanks to algorithms, are exposed to anti-war content as well. Interest surges when big news events occur, such as mobilisation for the army, the death of Alexei Navalny, or Ukraine’s invasion of the Kursk region. Traffic then tends to double in volume, as people look for alternative explanations.
The Kremlin is trying to wean them off YouTube through a mixture of sticks and carrots. It is using equipment installed on servers to reduce the download speed of YouTube videos, making them unwatchable without VPNs, while promoting its own home-grown version of the news.
It is trying to herd audiences towards VK, Russia’s largest social-media and video-hosting platform, which offers entertainment but is devoid of opposition content. VK is owned by Gazprom, Russia’s gas monopoly, and is run by the son of Sergei Kiriyenko, the deputy head of Mr Putin’s presidential administration. In April 2023 Russia’s sovereign-wealth fund bought bonds issued by VK for 60bn roubles ($700m).
Much of this cash was used to lure popular lifestyle vloggers, comedians and influencers to provide content to VK and win over their YouTube audiences, while schoolchildren are required to use VK to communicate with their teachers. The tactic has worked—up to a point. The vloggers took the money, made short videos, and then went back to YouTube. Tempted as it may be to block YouTube outright, the Kremlin so far prefers a war of attrition. As in the case of the real war against Ukraine, it thinks time is on its side. ■
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