Hello!

I’m Maksim Polyakov, a correspondent for the online magazine 7x7. A little over two years ago, on September 21, 2022, Russian authorities announced a mobilization to draft 300,000 soldiers into the army. Some citizens immediately left the country to avoid being sent to war. In late September and early October, heavy traffic jams formed at the land borders. However, over time, some of those who emigrated decided to return home, even though mobilization is still ongoing and they could still be drafted. My colleagues spoke to some of them, and in this newsletter, I will explain their decision and how someone with an anti-war stance can live in times of a war.

Estimated reading time: 10 minutes

Instead of an Introduction

Our team had long wanted to write about Russian citizens who initially left the country to avoid mobilization but later returned. We searched for interviewees, arranged interviews, and developed the structure of the article. In my opinion, “7x7” editor-in-chief Oleg Grigorenko best described this journey on his personal Facebook page:

“A long time ago, between the centenaries of the start of World War I and the two Russian revolutions of 1917, one of my circles often discussed how ordinary people perceived events that later became ‘textbook history’— people who still had to buy food, educate their children, and simply live their lives. Back then, we didn’t fully realize that each of us is always living in a history book, one that just hasn’t been written yet, and that’s why we don’t grasp the significance of current events.

I remembered these conversations when we at “7x7. Horizontal Russia” were discussing the idea of an article about people who left Russia after the mobilization began in September 2022 but later returned. Much of our discussion focused on the concern that the piece might resemble Russian propaganda: the prodigal sons coming back home after suffering in foreign lands.

It didn’t turn out that way at all. We underestimated the people who returned to Russia. They didn’t come back because they believed in Putin’s justification for the war or the righteousness of his regime. They returned because they had to live their lives, because they had obligations to their loved ones, colleagues, and their own sense of their place in the world.

They came back and saw a country that tries its best to ignore the elephant in the room and pretends the war doesn’t exist.

‘You read the news about terrible things, and then you go outside and see that people are fine, as if nothing has happened,’ says one of the interviewees. ‘It’s still like that. It feels like complete hypocrisy: everyone understands what’s going on, but they live with it — ‘We can’t vacation in that country, so we’ll go to another.’ People who used to speak out against the war are now silent because they need to keep their jobs. I also express my opposition cautiously, because you never know how people will react to your views.’Maybe this is the answer to how people from a ‘history book’ lived 100 years ago.

I disagree with many of the views expressed by the people in this article. However, I believe it is very important to understand how they perceive Russia and the changes that have occurred since they left and later returned.

We may not like the history book or history itself, but unfortunately, this is the page we’re currently living on."

Artem’s Story

On February 24, 2022, Artem (the interviewee’s name was changed at his request) joined a video call for a job interview with a Belgian company.

The news of the war in Ukraine left Artem in a state of shock. The HR manager, also caught off guard, suggested rescheduling the interview.

“Don’t you want to stop communicating with me entirely, considering I’m from Russia, and my country has done this?” Artem asked.

“No, politics is politics. You personally aren’t killing anyone,” the HR manager replied.

In the end, Artem wasn’t offered the job. He doesn’t believe the decision was political — another candidate simply had stronger qualifications.

Afterward, Artem had a few more interviews, reaching the final stages and even receiving an offer. However, the offer was withdrawn while he was waiting for his visa. The employer was a British startup, which went bankrupt two months later.

Artem lives in the Central Federal District and works for a company that develops biotechnologies. Before the war, he had hoped to work for a European company to advance his expertise internationally.

After the job offer was revoked, Artem stopped looking for work in Europe. The war took a toll on his mental health, causing him to suffer from psychosis. After just two beers, he would start crying, and tranquilizers were the only thing that helped him sleep.

“I don’t think anyone in this situation is pure and innocent while the other side is a villain — everyone has their faults. But it’s the ordinary people who suffer the most in war, and I feel especially sorry for them. I work in a field that develops treatments for deadly diseases, and now people are just being wiped out. It’s really hard to accept,” he says.

Artem learned about the mobilization while watching YouTube at home. Soon after, he heard that the borders might close. By that time, he and his husband (their marriage is not legally recognized in Russia) had Schengen visas and bug-out bags ready, just in case.

The day after mobilization was announced, Artem and his husband packed their two dogs and drove out of Russia.

They traveled through Finland, Estonia, Hungary, Serbia, and Bulgaria. They initially settled in Turkey but moved to Batumi, Georgia, after two weeks.

In late December 2022, Artem’s boss called him.

“You left and can work remotely, but your subordinates can’t because they’re involved in experimental work. What makes you better than them?”

“Touché,” Artem admitted.

During the New Year holidays, Artem and his husband returned to Russia.

“It was an ethical dilemma. My responsibility to the team pulled me back — I couldn’t do it any other way,” he explains.

Crossing Verkhny Lars (the border between Georgia and Russia), Artem felt like he had entered a completely different world. Along the way, he saw cars marked with red medical crosses, tow trucks carrying military vehicles, and cities plastered with banners urging people to join the war.

“It was tough to see, but what could we do? We clenched our teeth and kept going. Before the war, society wasn’t so brainwashed by propaganda. Now, you meet people who are absolutely convinced that Russia’s leadership is right and that our way of life is correct while other countries are in the wrong,” he says.

Artem and his husband still have their bug-out bags ready in their apartment. They also have a well-thought-out Plan B and Plan C because “the situation in Russia could escalate at any moment.”

“There is one goal in my life and in my work that transcends politics. We develop things that extend people’s lives and help fight fatal diseases. That’s why I’m staying here,” says Artem.

Vyacheslav’s Story

On September 22, 2022, Slava (the interviewee’s name has been changed at his request) traveled from the Komi Republic to Voronezh and boarded a train to Mineralnye Vody. From there, he planned to get into Georgia through the Verkhny Lars border. During the journey, the women in his compartment engaged in active discussions about the war in Ukraine, mentioning biolabs and accusing Ukrainians of allegedly seeking to eliminate all Russians.

When Slava got down from his bunk to have a meal, the women asked him, “Are you a student going on holiday?”

Slava nodded. By this time, he had learned not to express his anti-war views if he anticipated a negative reaction from those around him.

During his university years, Slava had considered emigration. However, after researching life in other countries, he concluded that he felt comfortable in Russia and wished to stay. Upon graduating, he began working at a charitable foundation. Then, the war started.

“I thought the unspoken agreement within society would hold. To me, politicians’ ambitions and people’s daily lives were two separate worlds. Politicians and the army wage war while people continue living their lives. But when the mobilization was announced, I was in shock and realized that something terrible was unfolding, and I needed to leave immediately,” he explains.

Slava stayed in Georgia for ten months and returned to Russia in July 2023 due to work.

“I was nervous about returning, as I wasn’t sure what was happening in Russia. But when I reached the border, they simply said ‘Welcome home’ and didn’t ask any questions.”

Slava hadn’t expected to leave Russia again, but when rumors of renewed mobilization spread, he made the decision to return to Georgia two months later, in September 2023.

During this time, he came to realize that he no longer wanted to work in the charity sector, but finding a job as an emigrant proved to be challenging. His salary was only enough to cover rent and basic groceries.

However, the main reason he wanted to return home was the lack of companionship:

“I was in a terrible state during emigration — I didn’t want to make new acquaintances. There are three types of people there. The first group is made up of those who plan to return to Russia soon, and since they are from different cities, you probably won’t stay in touch. The second group views Georgia as a transit point before moving on to Europe or the U.S., so you won’t see them again either. The last group consists of those who stay in Georgia, but they tend to have high-paying jobs, and you can’t keep up with them socially, even for leisure.”

Slava considered leaving to pursue further education, but he soon realized he didn’t have enough funds: “Moving would cost around 1,500 to 2,000 euros — where would I get that kind of money?”

In May 2024, Slava returned to Russia and no longer intends to leave. In his first weeks back, he wandered around his hometown in the Komi Republic, wondering how people could “live their ordinary lives and not talk about the war at all.” Over time, he became used to it.

Talks of a possible new mobilization no longer trouble him either:

“I’ve stopped seeing any risk for myself. I haven’t received any summons — it’s as though the military office doesn’t know I exist. Perhaps the situation will change with the introduction of the electronic register, but I frequently visit hospitals to monitor my health. I have asthma and several other conditions that should make me unfit for service, even during wartime. Maybe it’s just how I keep myself calm, but I truly don’t want to leave again.”

Since returning to Russia, Slava has reflected on the difference between liberal and patriotic societies:

“I now feel that liberals are much less willing to help each other. Take the people I left with after mobilization — we all exchanged contacts, but after crossing the border, no one reached out to ask ‘How are you doing?’ or ‘Have you settled in?’ The opposition constantly argues among themselves. It seems that so-called patriots are much better at uniting and supporting each other. Why is that? I haven’t quite figured it out yet.”

You can find more stories in Russian in the article by “7x7.”

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