How can we contribute to Russia’s collapse?

We spoke with Volodymyr Viatrovych — historian, public intellectual, civic activist, Member of Parliament, and former head of the Ukrainian Institute of National Remembrance (2014–2019). Since August 2023, he has served as secretary of the Temporary Special Parliamentary Commission on the Peoples Subjugated by Russia.

In this interview, he shares how decades of repression have shaped — and in many ways limited — these peoples’ ability to fight for their freedom, whether they are ready to unite around a shared cause, and what we can do to help bring about the final collapse of the “prison of nations”.

Why the West should support Russia’s non-Russian peoples

Why should we support the peoples within the Russian Federation during wartime?

I am sure that supporting the subjugated peoples of the Russian Federation is a strategic key to Ukraine’s victory. I don’t see any other option. Even if we reclaim the 1991 borders and join NATO, the threat from Russia won’t disappear. As long as it remains an empire that subjugates other nations on such a massive scale, it will continue to pose a danger to Ukraine. Resetting that empire — transforming it into a collection of national, democratic states — is in our direct national interest. That’s what can truly guarantee security for future generations. That’s why we must build ties with these oppressed peoples. This doesn’t mean that in the future — when new independent states emerge from the ruins of the Russian empire — we’ll have only friendly and warm relations with all of them. But as of now, the reformatting of Russia is our strategic imperative.

Ukraine should be the voice of these subjugated peoples in the world, because the world is not yet aware of them. We share a similar historical experience: we know what it means to be part of this empire. For hundreds of years, we were told that we are Russians, that Ukraine is merely a geographical concept with no national or even political substance behind it. Today, the peoples of Siberia, Asia, and the Caucasus — who are part of the so-called Russian Federation — are in a similar situation. They have no real opportunities for self-determination and are subjected to denationalisation, erasure, and in some cases even genocide. The disproportionately high number of these subjugated peoples serving in Russia’s armed forces is no accident — it’s a form of demographic engineering to prevent any conditions under which national identity or independence movements could emerge within those communities. Therefore, Ukraine’s vital future interests coincide with those of Russia’s subjugated peoples. Our task is to convince Ukrainians that this is necessary. The work has not yet begun, because as soon as you start talking about this, unfortunately, you hear from Ukrainians: “They are all the same, we don’t need ‘good Russians’”. I agree, but my thesis is that good Russians should be sought among non-Russians.

Some of these peoples clearly articulated their desire for independence back in 1991, like Tatarstan (a historically Muslim, Turkic-speaking republic within Russia — ed.). However, the consolidation of power in the Kremlin led to a crackdown on independence movements — sometimes by force, as in the case of Chechnya (a small republic in Russia that declared independence in 1991, leading to two brutal wars with the Kremlin). The Chechens didn’t achieve independence — not because they weren’t worthy of it, or because they fought less bravely, but simply because they found themselves in a worse position.

If we compare Ukraine with Poland, Poland broke away from the communist past more easily because it was further from the Kremlin in both geographical and historical dimensions. Similarly, Ukraine, compared to Buryatia or Chechnya (republics with the Russian Federation — ed.), is further from the Kremlin in historical and geographical dimensions. But this does not mean that the peoples who are still in the arms of the Russian Empire should remain there. Some of them are only now developing their national self-awareness. The Russian leadership understands this and is trying to integrate the political and creative elites of these peoples into the Kremlin elite.

I gave several lectures to representatives of the subjugated peoples, talking about the history of the Ukrainian liberation movement in the 20th century. This is a very interesting model for them, because they are also going through similar stages. That is, this is also a movement that began with reclaiming their culture, rediscovering identity, language, and tradition. Over time, it became more political and eventually matured into the need to create an independent state. The same applies to the subjugated peoples of Russia. Some have already gone through this process. Many even took up arms — like the Chechens — but were crushed.

We need to explain to the world that the theses about decolonisation, which became the main principles in the reconstruction of the world after World War II, under whose slogans the United Nations was built, will never be fully realised as long as Russia exists in its current shape. The resolutions adopted by the UN in the 1950s and 1960s should form the basis for raising a discussion about the subjugated peoples of Russia.

Did these peoples fight for their independence during the collapse of the Russian Empire?

The collapse of the Russian Empire in the final stages of World War I gave many nations — including Ukrainians and the peoples of the Caucasus and Asia — a chance to rise up and fight for their independence. Unfortunately, most of these struggles ended in defeat and renewed subjugation. Ukraine may have achieved more than others in that period, as even the creation of the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic was a kind of success — especially considering that under the Russian Empire, Ukraine had no political subjectivity at all. The Ukrainian SSR was a compromise that the Bolsheviks (a radical socialist faction led by Vladimir Lenin that seized power in 1917 and later proclaimed the USSR — ed.) were forced to accept in order to at least partially satisfy the demands of the Ukrainian national movement. They understood that maintaining control solely by force would not be sustainable. Thus, they established a quasi-state entity — the Ukrainian SSR — which over time acquired genuine elements of statehood and, in 1991, became an independent country.

There was also indigenisation, which caused an outbreak in Ukrainian culture. All this is also the result of this inertia of the Ukrainian liberation movement, even after its defeat. Unfortunately, among many subjugated peoples of Russia, it did not reach this level at that time.

By the way, when we talk about 1917, it’s worth noting that even then, Ukraine’s leadership — in the process of establishing its own independent state, the Ukrainian People’s Republic — already recognised the importance of cooperating with the subjugated peoples of the Russian Empire. As early as September 1917, a Congress of the Subjugated Peoples was held in Kyiv.

Representatives of more than 20 nations from the former Russian Empire gathered to discuss how Russia should be reformed. At that time, the concept of autonomy dominated, and independence still had to be achieved. However, what was incredibly important was that Ukrainian leaders at the time understood the need not only to secure autonomy or independence for Ukraine, but also to restructure Russia as a whole. Representatives of other nations within the Russian Empire recognised that their own futures depended on Ukraine’s success — because they understood that the empire itself began with the gradual absorption and erasure of Ukraine. Unfortunately, Ukrainians were also involved in building that empire. And the fate of the Russian Empire still depends on whether Ukraine remains part of it.

Unfortunately, this congress did not lead to concrete results, as just a few weeks after it was held, the Bolshevik coup took place. Naturally, any talk of rebuilding Russia ceased. The Bolsheviks chose a different path — specifically, they launched a war against Ukraine. However, it is important for us to remember that over 100 years ago, as a state, we set the right goals: to support the subjugated peoples of Russia.

This story continued during World War II. In November 1943, under the leadership of the Organisation of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN) (a 20th-century political movement that fought for Ukrainian independence — ed.), a Conference of the Subjugated Peoples was held in territories controlled by the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA). Representatives of various nationalities — including many former Red Army prisoners of war who had joined the UPA — adopted a resolution and committed themselves to the idea of restructuring Russia, opposing both Hitler and Stalin under a slogan that remains relevant today: “Freedom to nations! Freedom to the individual.” This foundation emphasised two key principles: first, reshaping the international legal order based on the sovereignty of individual nations and states; and second, the imperative that those states be democratic — because individual freedom is the second, no less important, component.

Just like in 1917, this idea could not fully develop at the time, as the Soviet-German front was advancing. Some of the national battalions were defeated; others were willing to fight against the Germans but no longer against the Soviet army. Some surrendered, some betrayed the cause, some were imprisoned, and others ended up in camps. Yet the core idea — that an independent Ukraine was only possible through a complete reformatting of Russia and the communist bloc it began to shape after 1945 — continued to live on. Ultimately, this idea was partially realised in 1991.

It’s likely that if Ukraine had fought alone for its independence in 1991, it wouldn’t have had enough strength to succeed. However, because this struggle was part of a broader movement involving the Baltic nations, Poland, Hungary, and Romania, we were given a real chance. Today, representatives of Russia’s subjugated peoples are beginning to understand that the current Russian-Ukrainian war gives them a chance. First, it exposes the weaknesses of the Russian army. Second, it forces these peoples to make an existential choice: either assert themselves as distinct communities with the right to live independently, or face destruction in a foreign war that will grind them down.

Many Ukrainians, recalling the crimes committed by Russian soldiers in the occupied territories, question the idea of supporting the Buryats — asking, why should we help them if they took part in atrocities against Ukrainians?I live not far from Bucha, in Vorzel, and the memory of the Buryats there in recent years is very negative. However, as a historian, I must remind people that Ukrainians, too, were once the “Buryats of the empire”. Not so long ago, in the late 1970s and 1980s, Ukrainians served as cannon fodder in Afghanistan, fighting and dying for imperial interests.

We need to explain to the West that the transformation of the Russian Empire into a collection of national democratic states is not something to fear — it’s something to prepare for.

The collapse of Russia is inevitable, and everything will depend on what follows. If there are targeted efforts to support the subjugated peoples, to prepare their political elites, and to ensure that national-democratic states emerge from the ruins of the empire, then at least some of them will indeed take that path. But if this doesn’t happen, we risk seeing the rise of bandit-oligarchic, radical, or Islamist ISIS-like entities that will continue to pose a threat to the entire world. That’s why the best thing the democratic and free world can do is to take this process under its control. And there are already some signs of progress. In 2024, several international organisations have adopted resolutions recognising the need for decolonising Russia. In other words, the understanding that this is a necessary and important process is gradually gaining traction among [Ukraine’s] Western allies.

The rising self-awareness of Russia’s subjugated peoples

To what extent did repression affect the ability of subjugated peoples to resist? And what was their level of national consciousness in 1991, at the time of the Soviet Union’s collapse?

It was easier to preserve it in places where national consciousness had been stronger before being absorbed into the Soviet system. But where Russia’s genocidal policies had taken deeper root — going back to the days of the Russian Empire — national movements were much more weakened by 1991. A lot also depended on linguistic and cultural factors. For the peoples of the Caucasus, it was easier to maintain a distinct identity because their culture stood apart from Russian norms. For others, whose language and traditions were closer to Russian, it was much harder to hold on to their uniqueness under that kind of pressure.

Our understanding of the national and cultural awareness of these peoples also varies significantly. We know very little about, for example, the peoples of Siberia. In contrast, we know much more about Chechnya, as it gained international attention due to the 1990s war that unfolded before our eyes.

I believe one of our missions is to encourage participation in the project of writing a non-Russian history of Russia. When we recognise that there is a Russia that is not Russian, when we help the non-Russian peoples of Russia understand that they have their own distinct histories, and when we help the world see that history — it will be a major step toward dismantling the Russian Empire. The world needs to hear that Russia is not just Russians.

We know about the subjugated peoples mostly through Russian literature — which often mocked and dehumanised them. How does this influence of Russian culture continue to affect us today in the context of postcolonial solidarity?

We often don’t even realise that we’re borrowing Russian imperial narratives about subjugated peoples. And Russia actively exploits this by reinforcing such attitudes. We sometimes adopt stereotypes about “bad Asians,” as if, so to speak, you can at least come to an agreement with Russians, but those “others” are somehow different. This kind of hidden racism still surfaces in conversation. For example, jokes about the Chukchi (an indigenous people from the northeasternmost part of Siberia — ed.), which were popular during Soviet times, unfortunately, remain common among many Ukrainians even today.

I clearly remember the early 2000s, when there were various youth movements, including protest ones — like “Za Pravdu” (For Truth), and later “Pora” in the lead-up to the Orange Revolution. We searched for activists in Crimea and established cooperation with representatives of various civil society organisations there. Our main allies were the Crimean Tatars, we found it easiest to work with them. From time to time, representatives of Russian-speaking organisations would appear, appealing to the notion that “we are Slavs, unlike them.” They tried to sow that kind of ethnic prejudice. Even the full-scale war hasn’t fully opened many Ukrainians’ eyes to what Russia truly is, who the peoples subjugated by it really are, and how the Russian Federation is now trying to use them, much like it once used Ukrainians themselves.

The fight for a common cause

We remember the West’s fears surrounding the collapse of the Soviet Union. At one point, the United States even warned of a possible war between Poland and Ukraine if the Union were to fall apart. Similar arguments circulated in the public space, suggesting that the Caucasus or Central Asian countries would descend into conflict if they gained independence. But how much truth is there to these claims? To what extent do these peoples engage with one another today, and are they ready to cooperate for the sake of a bigger cause?

The fears that the collapse of the communist bloc would lead to all-out war in the former USSR or more broadly, in the territories of the former Warsaw Pact, ultimately did not materialise. This was largely because there was a shared understanding of the importance of supporting national and anti-communist movements.

The West’s fear of nuclear proliferation also led it to support the Kremlin rather than Ukraine — right up until August 1991 (when Ukraine declared its independence from the USSR — ed.). That fear still lingers today: if Russia collapses, will its nuclear weapons scatter across the world? But the Soviet Union did collapse, and during its restructuring, the West clearly set conditions for the nuclear-armed republics to give up their arsenals. Under Western pressure, Ukraine and others complied.

If we’re talking about the possible future restructuring of Russia, one key condition should be placed on any new republics that emerge from the ruins of the Russian Empire: they must give up nuclear weapons. The West’s earlier bet — to disarm Ukraine, Kazakhstan, and Belarus and hand all nuclear weapons over to Russia on the assumption that it was the only “reliable partner” — turned out to be a grave mistake. Because today, it is Russia — the state that took those weapons from Ukrainian territory — that is threatening not only Ukraine but the entire world. This should serve as a clear lesson in what not to do in the future. If the West is serious about supporting the subjugated peoples of Russia, then one of the preconditions for any future reorganization of this vast territory must be its full denuclearisation.

Russia has demonstrated its inadequacy in handling weapons, so the entire world should be invested in ensuring that the Russian leadership is stripped of its ability to even threaten others with nuclear weapons.

The world needs to understand that we will never return to what was before 2014 or 2022. If we want to ensure that Russia never poses a threat again, it must go through a fundamental transformation. Hopes that switching leadership in Russia will bring meaningful change are futile. “Good Russians” turn into Putins very quickly.

We must understand that even after a military defeat, Russia simply cannot be occupied due to its size. Therefore, the only possible solution is to support those very subjugated peoples to reform everything from within.

If Russia remains in its current form even after losing this war, its imperial revanchism won’t disappear — on the contrary, it will likely grow even stronger. That’s exactly what happened with Chechnya: after the first war (ended with a peace agreement in 1996 — ed.), there was a sense of calm, but it was followed by a second Chechen war (launched by Putin in 1999 — ed.) — even more brutal. It’s far too early to let our guard down. We must understand that Russia will remain a threat to us, even if we regain our 1991 borders.

I reject the arguments we often hear these days, such as: “Maybe we should give Russia some territories, and it will calm down.” It won’t. For the Russian Federation, this has never been a war about territory. Just look at what it does to the places it captures — Bakhmut, Avdiivka — they are simply destroyed. These territories hold no real value for Russia; their destruction is the point. Russia wants all of Ukraine. And if anyone thinks they can buy peace with Russia by giving up Crimea and Donbas, they’re holding on to very naïve — and very dangerous — illusions.

What kind of potential do the subjugated peoples have for resistance? For example, we often hear calls for armed struggle involving them — but what are the risks they face if they lose to Russia?

We must not forget what happened to Chechnya. It was, in essence, a genocide against the entire nation: occupation, and the cultivation of a Janissary-like elite from the local population, who became even more zealous enforcers of the occupation regime than Kremlin officials themselves. What was done to Chechnya can be repeated with other subjugated peoples. And we must be clear: this is exactly what could happen to Ukraine in case of defeat.

Either we recognise this danger and are prepared to take pre-emptive action, or we will find ourselves constantly fending off future Russian attacks. At this point, supporting the subjugated peoples within Russia is the only viable long-term strategy for Ukraine’s victory.

How can we support the subjugated peoples of Russia in practical terms?

Seek out information directly from representatives of these peoples. There are organizations like the Anti-Imperial Bloc of Nations — a nod to the Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of Nations formed during World War II — which work to coordinate efforts among subjugated peoples. There’s also the University of Free Nations, and many of these activists operate from the diaspora, given the dangers of staying in Russia. They speak foreign languages, engage with international policymakers, and hold conferences across Europe. This information is out there — it needs to be found, shared, and, where possible, enriched with insights that deepen understanding of the situation.

Ukraine was able to gain independence because it had support from other states. Could you tell me more about the period of Soviet occupation, how attention was drawn to us, and what helped us maintain independence?

Indeed, in 1991, we gained independence in part because the world already knew who Ukrainians were. When we first declared independence in 1917–1918, the global misunderstanding and lack of awareness about Ukrainians — and why they needed their state — were comparable to what Chechens, Buryats, Ingush, and other subjugated peoples of Russia face today. They are unknown; for the West, it’s just a single Russian space. It’s difficult to discern these nuances within this Russian entity, and Russia exploits that ignorance to its advantage.

Specifically, this was exploited in 1921, when Ukraine’s fate was being decided after its defeat (to the Bolshevik forces — ed.). Even Western political forces, concerned about the Bolshevik advance and willing to support anti-Bolshevik elements, ultimately chose to back the “good Russians” of the time, rather than supporting Ukrainians and other national movements.

However, Ukraine’s defeat in the 1921 war contributed to the emergence of something new, unprecedented in Ukrainian history: Ukrainian political emigration. For the first time, Ukrainian intellectuals, politicians, and military personnel who had participated in building the Ukrainian state settled abroad. They began to tell the world who Ukrainians were and what they were fighting for. The active informational, cultural, and political work of the Ukrainian diaspora ultimately yielded the result that when Ukraine declared independence in 1991, everyone already knew what Ukraine was and who Ukrainians were.

The same stages of the West realising that there are other peoples within Russia must be undergone by these nations and their national movements. This will take sustained effort, but just as we once had the support of other nations, we too must support the representatives of these national movements. That way, when the Russian Empire finally collapses, there will be no doubt that these peoples deserve support.

Some of the views expressed by the interviewee do not necessarily reflect the position of the Ukraїner editorial team