The Illusion of a Democratic Russia
As the war in Ukraine drags on, many in the West continue to pin their hopes on the Russian opposition — envisioning it as a democratic counterforce that could one day usher in a freer, more peaceful Russia. Yet this optimism overlooks a deeply embedded truth: the vast majority of Russia’s liberal opposition is still tethered to the very imperialism and colonialism that undergird the Kremlin’s authoritarianism. As long as these views remain intact, a truly democratic Russia is not only improbable — it is impossible.
Even in exile, opposition figures who have positioned themselves as champions of democracy routinely reveal their blind spots when it comes to Russia’s internal colonialism. In April 2025, Russian opposition leader Vladimir Kara-Murza sparked backlash after suggesting that ethnic Russians may struggle more than minorities to kill Ukrainians because of shared history and culture. This comment, which implicitly suggested that non-Russians are more expendable in war, was met with outrage from minority communities. Kara-Murza later insisted his remarks were taken out of context, but the damage was done.
The reaction wasn’t simply about phrasing. It tapped into a longstanding pattern: the Russian opposition, even those who oppose Putin’s war and advocate for reforms, often fails to confront the imperial assumptions that define the Russian state. This failure isn’t just academic — it has real consequences for ethnic minorities who continue to be politically sidelined, economically exploited, and culturally erased under Moscow’s centralized rule.
Critics of the regime from minority communities have pointed out the uncomfortable truth: Russia’s opposition largely mirrors the very power structures it claims to resist. “Russian colonialism is not simply about Putinism,” says historian Botakoz Kassymbekova, “but a more general part of the political imagination and ambition of the metropolitan political groupings, liberal or illiberal.” In other words, the empire exists not only in Moscow’s policies but in the mindsets of those who imagine a post-Putin Russia.
This is not a new phenomenon. Under both the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union, regions like Buryatia, Chechnya, and Tatarstan were subjected to Russification, their languages and identities suppressed, their economies subordinated to the imperial core. Today, these same regions are disproportionately targeted for military recruitment and economic exploitation. Yet when activists from these republics — like Alexandra Garmazhapova of the Free Buryatia Foundation — speak out against these injustices, they are often dismissed or ignored by the opposition’s central figures.
At best, Russia’s liberal opposition treats the issue of internal colonization as a secondary concern. At worst, it actively undermines the movement for decolonization. In a December 2024 interview with Vox, Kara-Murza called decolonization “an amazing gift to Putin’s propaganda,” arguing that it plays into the Kremlin’s narrative that the West seeks to destroy Russia. Opposition figure Yulia Navalnaya, speaking at the Bled Strategic Forum, went further, questioning why people with shared culture and background should ever be “artificially divided.” We already wrote about her late husband Alexei Navalny: Putin’s opponent, but still a far-right nationalist.
Such comments betray a fundamental misunderstanding of liberal democracy. Democracy is not the maintenance of artificial unity but the protection of self-determination. It is not about preserving the illusion of national greatness, but about guaranteeing the political agency of all peoples within — or outside — a federation.
True democracy cannot coexist with colonial domination. As Central European University professor Alexander Etkind noted, decolonization is not just discourse, but “a political practice” — one historically linked to wars and revolutions. The Russian Federation is home to over 190 ethnic groups, many of which have never been meaningfully included in the decision-making processes of the state. Moscow’s recent moves — such as forcing regional leaders to abandon the title “president” or curbing the teaching of minority languages — reveal the ongoing erosion of even symbolic autonomy.
Even within the opposition, there is limited support for real structural change. Ilya Yashin, one of the few who has cautiously supported the right to secession, has said such rights should be enshrined in a future Russian constitution — yet he quickly adds that he sees no sign that any republic truly wants independence. Whether this is denial or wishful thinking, it reflects the opposition’s broader reluctance to imagine a non-imperial Russia.
This reluctance has consequences beyond Russia’s borders. By presenting itself as democratic while refusing to engage with the grievances of colonized peoples within the Federation, the Russian opposition lends credence to the myth of the “good Russian” — a figure whose mere opposition to Putin supposedly qualifies them as a liberal democrat. As exiled writer Katia Margolis recently observed, this myth “carries special weight” in the West, where suffering under dictatorship is often confused with moral clarity.
But surviving oppression does not automatically confer democratic values — especially if those values are selectively applied. Supporting Ukraine’s sovereignty while denying Tatarstan’s right to self-determination is not democracy. Condemning the war while ignoring the militarization of Buryatia is not justice.
If the West is serious about fostering democracy in the post-Soviet space, it must abandon the fantasy that Russia’s current opposition is ready to lead such a transformation. It must listen more to the voices from the margins — from indigenous peoples, republic activists, and those who have long resisted both Putin and the empire he maintains.
While most Russian opposition figures have been vocal in their criticism of Vladimir Putin’s regime and the invasion of Ukraine, few have explicitly addressed Russia’s imperialistic and colonial legacies. However, Garry Kasparov stands out as a prominent figure who has consistently condemned Russia’s imperialism and colonialism.
While other opposition figures like Alexei Navalny, Vladimir Kara-Murza, and Ilya Yashin have condemned the war in Ukraine and criticized the current regime, their focus has primarily been on anti-corruption and “democratic” reforms, with less emphasis on addressing Russia’s imperial culture.
To imagine a democratic Russia without confronting its colonial foundations is to build castles on sand. Without decolonization, there can be no democracy — only a more polished version of the same imperial project.