Comment: Not in their name

“No war, stop the war, don’t believe the propaganda, they are lying to you.” It’s no hyperbole to say Marina Ovsyannikova risked her safety, maybe even her life, when she burst onto Russian TV screens during a live broadcast with this message. A journalist for Kremlin-backed Channel One, and half Ukrainian, Ovsyannikova took a stand against the oppressive regime under which she lives.

“It was my anti-war decision. I made this decision by myself because I don’t like Russia starting this invasion,” she told reporters outside the courthouse after she was handed a fine. It followed a gruelling two days where she was questioned for 14 hours, not allowed to sleep, and not able to tell friends and family where she was.

Russia is not an easy place to be a journalist. Many have been disappeared or killed for daring to tell the truth. Indeed, even describing what is happening in Ukraine now as a war – as opposed to a special operation – can result in a hefty fine. Reporters Without Borders ranked the country 150th out of 180 in its 2021 press freedom index, warning: “The climate has become very oppressive for those who question the new patriotic and neo-conservative discourse, or just try to maintain quality journalism.”

And it doesn’t stop with reporters. Freedom House, an organisation which assesses every country’s democratic, political and human rights, each year, classifies Russia as ‘Not Free’, pointing to “pervasive, hyperpatriotic propaganda and political repression… [which] have had a cumulative impact on open and free private discussion, and the chilling effect is exacerbated by growing state efforts to control expression on the internet.”

Yet despite the very real threat, journalists like Ovsyannikova and ordinary citizens like the thousands arrested for attending anti-war protests continue to speak out against Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.

The bravery of Ukrainians as they fight for their country or are forced from their homes is a narrative worth telling. But so too is the one of Russian dissenters or of Russian people forced to flee their country because of threats from their own state. And we don’t see it often enough.

Anton Dolin, a film critic from Moscow, had to leave his home country for Latvia four weeks ago. On the day Russian troops entered Ukraine, Dolin wrote on Facebook that it was the “most scary and shameful event in my entire life”.

“Dear Ukrainians, I know that none of you are concerned with other voices right now, but all my thoughts are with you,” he said, adding: “I don’t write sorry. It’s impossible to forgive.”

Dolin is, of course, in a privileged position because he could leave. Many of his fellow citizens will be unable to escape, and Russia’s domestic victims will also be the ones to suffer under the West’s sanctions. They will be the ones who see their wages fall, they will be the ones who face empty shelves, they will be the ones who struggle.

To be clear, I’m not advocating here for the lifting of sanctions. If they end the war sooner and less brutally than military intervention, so be it. But while imposing them, it’s important we remember that those who suffer most are never the ones at fault. States like Russia will always move to protect their elite first and foremost, and Putin has already proven he is willing to pay for what he wants with others’ lives.

Ukrainian refugees rightly have the support of the world. But let us not forget they are not Russia’s only victims. As Dolin says: “People in Russia are scared, demoralised, crushed, humiliated. [The state] took away their dignity and the right to even symbolic protest. None of them want a war.”