Russia’s ultra-patriots are not a cohesive force. They are a motley collection of amateur groups that coalesce around leaders who are ambitious, jealous, and incapable of working with each other.
The late mercenary leader Yevgeny Prigozhin was until recently considered a leading Russian politician—with some even believing he could be a rival to President Vladimir Putin himself. But the death of the Wagner army boss in highly suspicious circumstances last week has not sparked much public interest or outrage.
The reaction to the arrest earlier this year of Igor Girkin, another ultra-patriot and former FSB officer who commanded pro-Russian rebels in Ukraine in 2014, was similarly muted. Girkin’s disappearance from public life did not lead to any public anger.
Both men were important symbols for Russia’s pro-war radicals, but it turns out that most ordinary Russians saw them more as internet memes than popular heroes. Indeed, the influence of Russia’s ultra-patriots has been much exaggerated, from their numbers and willingness to act to the threat they pose to the Kremlin.
Russia’s ultra-patriots—fiercely pro-war figures and bloggers who are sometimes critical of the Kremlin for seemingly refraining from an “all-out” war against Ukraine—are not one cohesive force with ideological unity or close coordination. They are more like a motley crew of amateur groups that coalesce around individual leaders who are ambitious, jealous, and incapable of working with each other. The authorities understand this only too well.
“A talented businessman” was how Putin described Prigozhin in comments after the Wagner leader’s death. The president did not see fit to mention that Prigozhin was also a recipient of Russia’s highest award—Hero of Russia. Putin neither acknowledged the prominent role of Wagner in the war in Ukraine nor attended Prigozhin’s low-key funeral.
While Prigozhin’s demise was top news for the global media, Russian propaganda outlets deemed it far less important. In one weekly news roundup on state-owned Channel One, a short clip about the private jet crash in which he died simply mentioned Prigozhin’s name without recounting his biography, or his role in the war.
By fashioning a posthumous image bordering on irrelevance for Prigozhin, the Kremlin has demonstrated it has no intention of kowtowing to the country’s ultra-patriotic media and bloggers for whom Prigozhin was a hero. And it seems the Kremlin has not misjudged the mood. Despite endless conversations about how angry, pro-war radicals could be a threat to the regime, in the end they were not even able to effectively demand a proper investigation into Prigozhin’s death.
Spontaneous memorials to Prigozhin did spring up in some Russian cities, particularly in his hometown of St. Petersburg. But they were all small, and visited largely by members of Wagner and their families.
Prigozhin was not a popular hero for most Russians. He had a big audience, but most were attracted to online clips of his foul-mouthed rants, like his demand for more ammunition from the defense minister and chief of the general staff. Wartime censorship meant listening to Prigozhin was a chance to find out something about what was really going on at the front. There was little ideological affinity.
It’s possible that more criticism of the authorities and more direct contact with ordinary people would have changed that, but Prigozhin had not managed to become a real politician before his short-lived insurrection back in June negated all his past efforts. Criticized by Russia’s propaganda outlets in the aftermath, Prigozhin lost his status as a popular politician, and by the time of his death, people were largely indifferent to him.
The Kremlin has shown it remains effective at dealing with populist politicians. The know-how acquired, for example, in ruining the reputation of Pavel Grudinin, the emerging populist and Communist Party nominee for the 2018 presidential elections, has not been forgotten.
Girkin (nom de guerre: Strelkov) is even further from being a popular hero. His arrest last month did not prompt any significant protests and was the first sign that the ultra-patriots were no real threat to the Kremlin.
It was not so long ago that some commentators were comparing the ultra-patriots favorably to Russia’s liberal opposition, which, they claimed, only criticized Putin online and occasionally organized peaceful protests. In contrast, the ultra-patriots were supposed to enjoy popular support and be ready to act decisively.
Events have proved otherwise. The ultra-patriots, too, like to post online comments, only even fewer of them are prepared to take to the streets. They are fragmented and argue bitterly among themselves, and they have shown they cannot even unite around figures like Prigozhin and Girkin (who, incidentally, hated one another).
In addition, most of the mercenaries serving in Wagner have lived up to their job description: as soon as they were made a decent offer, they switched their loyalties and signed contracts with the Defense Ministry.
Going forward, it seems likely that the pro-war part of Russian society will remain loyal to the authorities and Putin. They are in no rush to go and fight themselves, and were never enthused by Prigozhin and Girkin’s ideas for a full-scale mobilization or turning Russia into another North Korea in order to defeat Ukraine.
The ultra-patriots have an obvious problem: their audience is either frightened by radicalism, or only prepared to be radical in words, not deeds. Even those who support escalation in Ukraine look first and foremost to the Kremlin—and when they don’t get Kremlin support, the most they do is grumble.
Prigozhin’s popularity stemmed not from his pro-war pronouncements, but from his criticism of the elite and Russia’s leaders. His strength was that he was the country’s only populist with financial resources, media assets, and his own private army. The ultra-patriots were simply piggybacking. As there is no second Prigozhin on the horizon, Russia’s ultra-patriots are now much weaker.
Seeing this weakness, officials will likely ramp up pressure on those who criticize the authorities from a radical pro-war position. This is an old Kremlin tactic: test the resilience of an opponent and, if it’s found wanting, press home your advantage. At the same time, the discombobulated ultra-patriots are a convenient prop for the authorities. Their radicalism makes the Kremlin look relatively moderate, while repression against those of them calling for full mobilization reassures ordinary people.