After the Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022, it became increasingly difficult for people in Russia to express themselves freely without fearing state repression. People outside Russia might think that this silence represents an endorsement by the Russian public of the actions of the Russian Government, but it actually represents a combination of restrictive laws and state-sponsored policing.

While politicians within the Russian government are likely affected by these changes, it is not politicians who have suffered the most because of the reconfiguration of the Russian public sphere. Cultural figures, such as musicians, poets, and public performers, have moved from the edges of political relevance to being center targets of suspicion by the state. Where expression had previously been encouraged, it is now treated as a potential source of danger.

When real expression became illegal

The point of no return occurred when legislation created a separate criminal offense for speaking out for or against the Russian government. Although censorship existed before March 2022, it was not until that month that the Russian Parliament passed laws prohibiting the spreading of “knowingly false information” about the Armed Forces, and “discrediting” the military.

The law was crafted so that it could be applied to anyone who deviates from the official line. Therefore, any person whose words contradict the Russian government’s policies and procedures is committing a crime, rather than merely violating a law.

Through this process, the Russian state has fundamentally altered the status of freedom of expression, from a civil right to a conditional privilege granted on an individual basis. Censorship is now interpretedthrough the prism of war. As a result, the Russian government has legitimized limitations on the expression that would otherwise be considered exceptional

From law to practice: repression without clarity

After the introduction of new legal protections for activists, rather than pursuing mass prosecution, the government chose to target specific individuals based on their prominence in society. These individuals were prosecuted instead of the broader public.

The government also relied heavily on administrative law as a tool for prosecuting activists, using short periods of detention, fines, and repeated arrests. This allowed them to quickly and effectively neutralize dissent at much lower political cost than lengthy prison terms would require.

Human rights activists have described this system as one of attrition rather than overt repression; Amnesty International stated that the Russian government has created a more sophisticated package of tools available to prosecute individuals for minor criminal offences, permitting extensive administrative detention and police action against political opponents. These repeated arrests have created a “carousel arrests,” preventing adequate judicial review.

Control by uncertainty also acts as a form of oppression, because no one knows where the boundary lies between acceptable and unacceptable behavior; as a result, most people avoid testing it altogether

Belarus was not an exception, but a precedent

Belarus is significant not simply as a comparison but as a precedent for potential future actions. Following the presidential election of President Lukashenko on August 9th, 2020, widespread protests erupted across Belarus due to the perceived fraudulent re-election of Lukashenko. As with other authoritarian regimes, the Belarusian government responded with violence, censorship, and disconnection.

According to Human Rights Watch, “Belarusian officials are obstructing people from accessing the internet and restricting people from accessing online resources so that they cannot participate in protests and do not have access to the same information as everyone else.”

Thousands of Belarusians were arrested, tortured, and beaten by the authorities without any investigations into the seactions. Numerous independent news sources were raided or shut down. The authorities failed to investigate allegations of police brutality.

Lukashenko later publicly supported the actions taken by the authorities regarding the closure of the internet, stating, “I’m weighing all of this up and thinking to myself: To save the nation, we are going to shut down the internet, and that’s why we did it; I chose the lesser of two evils.” The significance of Belarus lies in the transparency of this justification; repression was not denied, but openly framed as a necessary evil.

How cultural expression became a crime

For many years, the Russian government allowed cultural dissent to exist in a mostly symbolic form, with art representing emotion and music representing self-expression. Since 2020, this dynamic has changed. Cultural expression now reaches those who are not exposed to or affected by political rhetoric through song and performance.

Cultural expression creates emotional connections between people who have no direct relationship with the state. As a result, culture has taken on an entirely new significance to the extent that it can now function as a tool for building political infrastructure.

This change does not manifest through formal bans; however, there are numerous concert cancellations or unexpected cancellations, venues are refusing bookings to certain artists, and some performers are being removed from festivals due to their current political status.

Labels, distribution platforms, and institutions have all either stopped supporting certain artists or quietly withdrawn their support. The Russian state is under no obligation to publicly label cultural elements as dangerous, it has simply acted in ways that marginalize and suppress culture.

The voice of the Russian youth: the case of Naoko

Diana Loginova, known as Naoko, is a young street musician whose arrest illustrates how this process works in practice.

She describes her arrests as follows: “It was a surprise to me. I just wanted to play the music I loved. It never occurred to me that it would lead to this.” Naoko and her band were performing songs that were critical of war in the streets of St. Petersburg in 2025, including songs that had been labeled as connected to foreign agents by the Russian government.

Videos of their performances went viral online, attracting large crowds and widespread attention. According to Meduza, Naoko said, “When I feel that a song has a message and the composer has succeeded in communicating a message of love, I want to perform that song as I feel that it belongs to me. Now, in Russia, the only way to express yourself is through your art.”

She was arrested for organizing an unlawful public gathering and charged with “discrediting” the armed forces. She was sentenced to 13 days in jail and arrested again immediately after her release on new charges of the same nature.

According to Euronews, despite the lack of any criminal charges against Naoko, Russian courts have extended her detention, citing minor public order offences. The deputy director of Amnesty International in Eastern Europe stated that these detentions are being used to punish artistic expression that “contradicts the stifling state message”.

Naoko explained that her actions reflect the way her music resonates withsociety. “I’m really happy that so many people have been able to show their support by coming together to perform for us, and that so many people are supporting us and believing in what we are trying to do,” she said, adding that all they want to do is to share the music they create because of its importance to them.

Social resonance

Naoko’s situation is illustrative of a broader trend. Zona Media has investigated how, since the invasion, artists performing in the street or conducting single-issue protests through culture, whether music, visual art, or performance, have increasingly become targets of government repression.

Because most of these artists are performing or protesting the war through their art, they are charged not for what they say (i.e., their slogans) but for violations such as public order, noise violations, or breaches of participation rules, most of which are now actively enforced.

Zona documented numerous cases in which musicians performed to an audience, only to be detained by police afterward. Authorities classified such “unauthorized” public demonstrations simply because an audience was present, even when artists claimed they never invited anyone to their show. Some artists have been detained multiple times in the same week for different administrative offenses.

One attorney quoted in the Zona report noted, “The laws are written in such a way that anything that happened in public could be reclassified as a crime after it had occurred.” This is not done to secure convictions but to create an environment in which being visible in public is inherently dangerous.

Hungary and the European contradiction

This disturbing trend is also evident in other parts of Europe.

Prime Minister Viktor Orbán of Hungary has called independent media, non-governmental organizations (NGOs), and cultural institutions “vehicles of foreign influence.” His government has recently introducednew laws that invoke “sovereignty” and “national security” to impose limits on civil society.

Orbán has made clear his political philosophy, stating in a 2014 speech that Hungary is creating “an illiberal state” and warning about “networks that don’t belong to the nation.” The European Commission has raised numerous concerns about Hungary’s rule of law violations and was forced to freeze billions of euros in EU funds under conditionality procedures.

At the same time, Hungary’s position within the EU has undermined coordinated responses to repression in other countries. The government has delayed the implementation of sanctions against Russia and blocked EU joint statements on human rights abuses. Hungary has therefore become both an internal bellwether and an external barrier.

Europe’s response and its limits

The European Union condemns Russian repression and has imposed sanctions on Russian officials and institutions. The European Parliament has described Russian actions as systematic violations of human rights.

European cultural institutions have developed residential programs and provide emergency funding to Russian artists and journalists who have fled or are in exile. These programs help preserve independent voices, but their existence also highlights that Russian cultural life is being depleted rather than maintained.

International law contains numerous declarations, but there is little actual enforcement. When a state denies jurisdiction to another state, enforcement through intervention is impossible, leaving only condemnation as a response.

Exile as an outcome, not a choice

Since 2022, tens of thousands of Russians have left the country, many of them artists, journalists, and academics. Exile is often portrayed as freedom, but for those who leave, it is also a profound rupture.

Language, audience, and cultural context do not travel easily. Support abroad helps sustain these voices, but it cannot replace domestic public space. Exile removes dissent from the streets, but not from memory. Authoritarian regimes are effective at enforcing behavioural discipline, but they are less capable of how a society thinks.

The expression of fear shrinks the potential breadth of expression; however, it does not erase generational differences. The younger generation of Russians will continue to adapt and evolve; they will not just disappear. What may seem like apathy from a distance is often a carefully calculated response. Culture is alive; songs are still shared between people, and the stories of the past continue to be remembered.

Naoko’s story is dramatic because it contains all the elements of an extraordinary story, but that does not make it unique in terms of extraordinary content; it is a story of the everyday, of a common, recurring experience. No institution that relies on fear can predict how long meaning and culture will endure in obscurity.