An English Life in Vladimir Putin's Twilight Zone

Only seven people spontaneously showed up at a pro-Putin rally in a city of 800,000 inhabitants. This is the fact that Marc Bennetts, a British correspondent who has lived in Russia for 25 years, cites to explain a reality that most Westerners misunderstand: the true glue of the Putin system is not consensus, nor widespread fear, but something much more mundane and corrosive—apathy. We all think that authoritarian regimes like the one in Russia are sustained by enthusiastic crowds or a terrorized population. But Bennetts, who learned Russian by chatting with homeless veterans, driving nuclear waste trucks, and engaging in heated debates with neighbors and hooligans, observed another mechanism at work: a deep-seated belief that nothing depends on individuals. In Russia, he says, the majority neither vote, nor protest, nor show support. They are simply convinced that their voice won't change anything. It is a collective resignation, fueled by decades of poverty and incremental improvements that turn into silent trade-offs: “What are a few stolen votes compared to the certainty of heating and electricity?” Bennetts experienced this firsthand: in 1997, his first colleague covered her mouth with a scarf to hide her teeth, which had been ruined by post-Soviet hardship. And even as the cities have changed, the feeling of powerlessness has remained. But the real paradox becomes apparent when Bennetts tries to stir those around him. One day, he goes to his neighbor's house, hoping to open her eyes to the lies of state TV. She listens to him, then glares at him, and her voice drops a tone: “It was as if she were possessed by a demon.” With pro-government parliamentarians, the script changes: they listen to him, they engage in discussion, but in the end, one female deputy dismisses him in a disheartened message: “What do you want from me?” The book is full of unconventional characters: a teacher who protests over salaries but remains convinced of Putin's goodness, a lesbian rock band that plays in secret in Moscow, and even a former American wrestler who reinvents himself as a Russian propagandist and rejects the label of “useful idiot” – even though he behaves exactly like one. But the story that sticks with you is that of Dani Akel, a young Russian-Syrian man who grew up between Moscow and Aleppo, was expelled from university for his ideas, and then enlisted with the Russians fighting alongside Ukraine. Bennetts takes a photo of Moscow to his grave in Kyiv after he dies on the front lines at the age of 25. However, this personal connection never leads to justification. Bennetts is ruthless both with regime fanatics and with those who turn a blind eye. After witnessing the crimes committed in Ukraine and within Russia itself, she can no longer tolerate even passivity. Yet he realizes that his very habit of engaging in discussions with strangers—from neighbors to propagandists—is seen by Russians as an almost scandalous oddity. In a society where people only talk to those who belong to “their own circle,” it takes an outside perspective and a bit of naivety to genuinely seek dialogue. In the end, the question that remains is: What purpose does the work of a foreign correspondent serve today, in a world where anyone can watch videos from the front lines and read analyses in real time? Bennetts answers without fanfare: what is needed are those who suffer alongside the country they report on, those who allow themselves to be changed by the language and customs, those who embrace superstitions, like him, who returns to Bristol after 25 years and still uses the Russian “nu” in conversation. It is no longer a matter of explaining Russia to others, but of experiencing it to the fullest—and then accepting its loss. Resignation, not fear, is the regime's true secret weapon. On Lara Notes, there is a gesture you won’t find anywhere else: I’m In. It's not a heart; it's not a thumbs-up. It's your declaration: This story of apathy, resistance, and small choices concerns you. And if you happen to tell someone the story of Dani Akel or the gathering of the seven, on Lara Notes you can tag those who were with you using Shared Offline — because there are conversations that deserve to be remembered, not just online. This Note comes from New Statesman and saved you almost seven minutes compared to the original article.