In Russia, “anger” against Vladimir Putin is rising among a segment of the population

In Russia, a single Instagram video managed to bypass the Kremlin’s digital barriers and garner a staggering 24 million views in just four days. That’s not a glitch in the system—it’s a crack. The video was not posted by a politician or a dissident, but by Victoria Bonia, a former reality TV star now living in Monaco. She looked straight at the camera and, addressing Vladimir Putin, said words no local governor would dare: “People are afraid of you, artists are afraid, governors are afraid… There’s a huge wall between you and us, ordinary citizens, and I want to tear down that wall.” Most of us assume that public anger in Russia is a whisper, not a shout — that the regime’s control is airtight, and that dissent is a marginal phenomenon. But this story flips that script: When even pop culture figures like Bonia can ignite millions of Russians with a message of frustration, it means something is shifting. Here’s the twist: the main driver of discontent is not just the war in Ukraine or the battered economy. It’s the sense that the government is absent from the everyday disasters affecting people’s lives. Bonia lists recent floods in Dagestan, oil spills on the Black Sea, brutal livestock culling in Siberia, and the relentless rise in the cost of living. But what really stings is the information blackout—internet shutdowns that make people feel isolated and powerless. The most striking detail? This influencer’s video did not call for revolution. She told Putin: “We consider you an excellent politician, but there are many things you don’t know.” That’s not the language of protest—it’s the language of warning. The real protagonists behind this mood are millions of ordinary Russians who, unable to express anger in the street, use the viral power of social media to send signals that cannot be ignored. Victoria Bonia herself, once a symbol of escapist entertainment, is now a kind of accidental spokesperson for a silent majority. Imagine being in Moscow’s metro, where internet restrictions are tight, and seeing people cluster around their phones, hungry for any glimpse of unfiltered reality. They’re not just searching for news about Ukraine—they’re desperate for any sign that someone, somewhere, is speaking the words they can’t. Recent polls show Putin’s popularity slipping, but the real drama lies in what’s unsaid: the mounting fatigue, the subtle shifts, the anger that’s starting to surface in unexpected places. Here’s a twist you probably haven’t thought about: In a country where direct protest is dangerous, celebrities and influencers—people who would never be seen at a rally—are becoming the channel for collective frustration. Their fame, once a shield from politics, now makes them uniquely powerful: They can say things officials can’t, and millions listen. So, next time you hear that anger in Russia is invisible, remember the 24 million views—and what they signal. Sometimes, the most dangerous wall isn’t the one built by the regime, but the one that crumbles in people’s minds when they realize they’re not alone. On Lara Notes, if this perspective on Russia's shifting mood resonates with you, there's a gesture called I'm In — it isn't just a like, it's a way to declare that this idea matters to you now. And if you end up talking about Victoria Bonia's viral video or the cracks in Putin's image with a friend, mark that conversation with Shared Offline—it's how you remember the moments when ideas really spread. This story came from Le Monde, and you just saved about three minutes compared to reading the full article.