Since Russia’s annexation of Crimea in 2014, I had lived with a contradiction. I opposed the annexation and war in Donbas but like many, I did not think Russia’s course could be changed. Instead, I focused on building something different – small pockets of hope in an increasingly repressive country.
Then, at an international gathering I bonded closely with a Ukrainian mediator. We found common ground in our language, belief in dialogue and deep listening. On the last night the Crimea came up – and the warmth vanished. A minute ago, we had been two mediators, two humans. Now suddenly I was Russian, ‘the other’.
Nevertheless, she invited me to another peacebuilding event. Russians and Ukrainians were in the same space. We shared stories lighthearted, personal, then painful. Every single Ukrainian in that circle had lost someone.
That night something changed in me. I woke up with unshakable certainty that I could avoid working for peace. I began to learn about war, conflicts, peacebuilding. I tried to combine this with my background in psychology and facilitation in order to be of use.
The full-scale invasion in February 2022 was a shock, but not a surprise. Resisting war, no matter how small the effort, was one of the few things that made sense anymore. I stayed in Russia to be directly connected with the reality on the ground, which meant the work had to remain not public. So, consider this story, this reflection and the initiative to found People First from the midst of it.
A fragmented Russian society
From the outside, Russia seems like a monolith—either a country of imperialists hungry for conquest or a land of silent, terrified subjects crushed by dictatorship. The reality is more complicated.
There is an active minority that supports the war with ideological zeal believing in Russia’s historical mission, its battle against NATO, or its role as a protector of traditional values. On the opposite side, there is a similarly sized minority that opposes the war outright. Though diverse, these are often urban, educated Russians—young professionals, intellectuals, activists. Many have fled, but many also remain, living in a constant state of quiet resistance and fear. Repression is severe but deliberately unpredictable. Some are jailed for a Facebook post, others for private conversations. This uncertainty keeps society in check. Those who fled have space to work: organizing discussions, political actions, supporting conscientious objectors and deserters, helping Ukranian refugees and making independent media.
The majority of Russians exist in a gray zone. They are not fervent supporters of the war, but neither do they actively oppose it. They are exhausted, afraid, and desperate to ignore the war as much as possible. Many see no way to change anything and focus on survival instead. While mobilization shocked society in 2022, many have since adapted. The regime, though never abolishing the mobilization law, have managed to keep recruiting new soldiers for with the inducement of up to ten times the average income in many regions of the country, as well as being the way to get out of prison. Sanctions and economic hardship are real, but life in big cities remains deceptively ‘normal’. People avoid news or thinking too hard about what is happening just across the border. This passive majority is not motivated by ideology, but by survival.
The majority of Russians exist in a gray zone. They are not fervent supporters of the war, but neither do they actively oppose it
In response to the invasion, the world isolated Russia with sanctions, travel bans and cultural boycotts. This is understandable. The regime needed to face consequences. But while economic sanctions target the military-industrial complex and elites, the isolation strengthens the regime’s grip rather than weakening it. It fuels the Kremlin’s propaganda that Russia is a besieged fortress that the West wants to destroy. The harder life gets, the more people either rally around the state or retreat into apathy.
And then there’s the even more painful question: what about Russian-Ukrainian dialogue? The very idea is toxic in many circles, understandably so. When atrocities are committed, how can one speak of cooperation? Yet despite everything, human rights defenders continue to work together across the divide. They don’t do it because they excuse Russia’s actions, but because they understand that dehumanization only serves those in power.
Solidarity in such a fractured landscape cannot ignore the realities of violence and justice. But if peace is to be attainable, we need to find spaces of common ground, not to absolve, but to build something beyond war.
People first
The People First campaign offers a way through this dilemma. It puts the focus where it belongs—not on political deals or abstract geopolitics, but on the people whose lives have been shattered by this war. Thousands of Ukrainian civilians remain in Russian captivity (Ukrainian human rights defenders documented the disappearances of 7,615 people). Thousands of prisoners of war are held by both sides of the conflict, with allegations of torture of Ukrainian prisoners in Russia. Thousands of Ukrainian children have been deported or forcibly transferred. Hundreds of Russian political prisoners are jailed for speaking out against the war. Yet they risk being forgotten in the larger geopolitical bargaining. The campaigners demand to bring the focus of the negotiations back to the fates of these people.
What makes this campaign especially significant is that it is a joint effort by Ukrainian, Russian, and international activists, NGOs, and engaged citizens. In a time of deep division, it offers a way to help people trapped by violence while also challenging the idea that the only choices are to take a side or do nothing.
People First is proof that cross-border cooperation isn’t just idealistic but urgent and necessary. It creates space for action in a world where so much seems beyond our control, and it shows that supporting human rights and peace is not the same as legitimizing aggression. With growing support, key messages of the campaign began to be voiced by different actors involved in the negotiations, but much more needs to be done to change the mainstream of the process. Please join the campaign.
