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Vladimir Putin’s control over Russian society is sometimes, in hyperbolic moments, equated to an Orwellian totalitarianism, brooking neither debate nor dissent. Looking at more liberal opponents of his regime, it is easy to see why: from the tortured killing of Alexei Navalny to five-year imprisonments for tweeting. But while the Kremlin has stamped out the pro-Western opposition, the ultranationalist right remains an open and constant challenge. As the three-day supposed “special military operation” stagnated into an attritional nightmare, Putin has faced aggressive criticism – which has only escalated since Ukraine’s incursion into Kursk, reigniting tensions between nationalists and state propagandists.
The Kremlin has downplayed the incursion and insisted that everything is under control, highlighting Russia’s advances in Donbas. But this narrative has left an information gap. The community known as “Z-bloggers” have filled this void with blunt honesty. Z-bloggers hold a unique place in Russian media, gaining popularity for their perceived authenticity on Telegram, where some have more than a million followers, and their direct engagement with the war. Many are active soldiers fighting in Ukraine. Their critical stance is tolerated by the Kremlin because they have helped to mobilise men and parts of society for the war. But their grassroots connection often puts them at odds with Kremlin narratives.
Z-bloggers’ loyalty is to the war and their vision of Russia, and this had led them to call out corruption and military blunders. Recently, after the Kursk invasion, tensions escalated when Kremlin propagandists on TV, such as Vladimir Solovyov, accused Z-blogger channels like Two Majors of spreading panic by reporting that a village in Kursk had been captured – a claim the Ministry of Defence later confirmed. Z-bloggers have also used real-time information to advise Kursk residents to evacuate when officials claimed there was no need. Many residents were left stranded.
The Kremlin is indifferent to affected citizens and would prefer the rest of the country to apathetically let those in charge get on with their geopolitical games. The Russian system and official propaganda excels at fostering this detachment and atomisation. But Z-bloggers pose a direct challenge to this strategy. They are part of a broader movement inside Russia that is critical of the army and the way the war is managed. Prigozhin and the Wagner group were once at the forefront and Prigozhin’s 2023 rants about supply shortages and corrupt elite generals with luxurious Western estates struck a chord, despite mixed reactions to his delivery.
In Russia’s dictatorship, criticism of the military elite often reads as a veiled attack on the president, who should never be attacked directly. Prigozhin crossed this line, as did Igor Girkin, the individual who claimed responsibility for turning Donetsk protests into the 2014 war. Prigozhin was assassinated, shot down in a plane, while Girkin was imprisoned after questioning Putin’s masculinity and insulting his mistress. Leaderless after autumn 2023, the nationalists appeared to have settled down. In any case, they function more as a civil society for war than an opposition, relying on Kremlin favour and existing embedded within the very structures they criticise. While the bloggers’ complaints about corruption, supply issues and wasted lives continued, they remained at the level of gripes, especially as Russia made slow but steady progress in Donbas.
But beyond tactical critiques, the Kursk incursion has also sparked deeper reflection. Aleksandr Khodakovsky, well-connected commander of the Luhansk Vostok Battalion and a popular Z-blogger, was forced to delete his account after questioning the purpose of continuing the war, given the heavy losses already suffered and those yet to come—especially when Russia risks losing what is “theirs” to conquer what is not. This debate over the war’s purpose and lack of clear objectives is a new and growing concern. Many note that, with an estimated 120,000 dead, there is still no clear vision of victory—unlike the Ukrainians, whose goals are clear. This uncertainty is contributing to broader demoralisation and discontent among Z-bloggers and society at large, which is unevenly benefiting from a defence-spending related economic boom and suffering from a cost-of-living crisis.
The Kursk operation has similarly exposed the brittle state of the Russian military’s ethnic relations, particularly regarding its Chechen contingent. Most Z-bloggers avoid openly criticising the Chechens to avoid angering the Kremlin, which is highly sensitive on such matters. However, the Akhmat Brigade, a supposedly elite Chechen regiment that is widely mocked as “TikTok fighters” in Russia and Ukraine, has brought underlying tensions to the surface. Stationed in Kursk for defence, Akhmat fled at the first sign of trouble, leaving poorly armed and untrained conscripts to face Ukraine’s elite forces. Most conscripts surrendered and later shared harrowing accounts of hazing, sexual assault by Chechens, as well as Akhmat’s cowardice. Ukrainians claim some conscripts even provided the coordinates of Chechen brigades and, though this is unverified, Ukrainian forces continue to locate and capture Akhmat fighters.
In response to this perceived “disrespect”, Akhmat’s commander, Apti Alaudinov, forced a young conscript to apologise on television for “lying” about Akhmat. Later he mocked soldiers’ mothers’ sobs and insisted their sons should fight harder. As ordinary Russians generally care more about conscripts than the contracted soldiers fighting for money in Ukraine, Alaudinov’s comments sparked considerable outrage. Then photos emerged of the Rusich battalion, a Russian neo-Nazi group fighting against Ukraine, mutilating and “sacrificing” a Chechen Akhmat fighter. Coupled with painful memories of the Chechen wars, recent terror attacks, high migration from Muslim regions, and nationalist lawmakers infringing on migrant freedoms, the situation has potential to ignite ethnic tensions and shift Kremlin resources from foreign to domestic concerns.
Holding to his “nothing to see in Kursk” narrative, Putin recently made his first visit to Chechnya in 13 years. Ostensibly to mark the Beslan tragedy, albeit two weeks early, the visit was likely aimed at avoiding further provocations from Akhmat. However, it only fuelled more anger from Kursk residents and Z-bloggers, who noted that Putin visited Chechnya but not the embattled Kursk region itself. Nationalists’ popularity grows in moments like these. When the Kremlin insists everything is fine—that it’s normal for part of Russia to be occupied—and instructs propagandists to downplay Ukraine’s attacks, the nationalists connect with an alienated segment of Russia. This group, deeply involved in the war, sees themselves as fulfilling patriotic duties but grows increasingly frustrated with official mismanagement and corruption. They struggle to reconcile their loyalty to Putin with the realisation that, for the Kremlin, patriotism and Russia itself are secondary to maintaining power.
The nationalists’ influence is largely confined to those connected with the war and younger people. And most Russians are able and willing to ignore events around the conflict, insulated from the kind of suffering Russia has inflicted on Ukrainians. This disconnect from the war enables the Kremlin to push blatant lies about Kursk on television—the older population isn’t on Telegram anyway. Moreover, the nationalists have neither the means nor the desire to overthrow the Kremlin and no real intention of ending the war. The threat nationalists pose to the Kremlin comes from their ability to claim patriotism against the regime in a way that resonates authentically with younger generations. Given the current education system’s indoctrination practices and the war’s lasting effects, the nationalists’ positions on ethnic relations, welfarism, and belligerent anti-Westernism provide useful indicators when considering Russia’s post-Putin future.
The nationalists do not represent a majority view, but they are a battle-hardened ideological minority within a largely apathetic society. They have deeply engrained chauvinistic and militaristic views of what their country should be. In the topsy-turvy reality of Russia, where convicted murderers are heroes, the church blesses weapons of mass destruction, and openly Nazi Russian units behead Ukrainian prisoners in the name of denazification, it is perhaps inevitable that the biggest challenge for the Kremlin is not from those who oppose the war but from those who truly believe in it.
