Across the road from a small Russian Orthodox church in Washington, D.C., there hangs a large Ukrainian flag from a private residence facing the church and its émigré congregation. At first glance, its placement may seem to send a message: opposition to the church because it is Russian. Yet many members of the congregation are Ukrainian. This scene shows how Putin’s historic fusion of his regime with Russianness is slipping. The Russian president has monopolized power for decades, but his appeal to Russians, due to wartime strain, is waning.
Putin, like other Russian autocrats, has spent decades cultivating the idea that Russianness and loyalty to the Kremlin are one and the same, placing particular emphasis on himself as the leader who restored Russian dignity after the tumultuous 1990s. As the war in Ukraine increasingly burdens ordinary Russians, however, that reputation suffers. Putin is becoming the source of many of the frustrations and humiliations he once promised to erase.
While the dissolution of the Soviet Union was a moral triumph for the West, it also came with catastrophic economic consequences for Russia, as abortive efforts at free market privatization gave way to crony capitalism. The resulting unemployment and obliterated savings created the conditions for the oligarchs to sweep in. An idealized spirit of fraternal progress was replaced by shame and confusion. In short, Russians felt stagnant, hopeless, and humiliated after having perceived themselves as the superpower rival to the United States just a few years earlier.
Then, in 2000, the virtually unknown Vladimir Putin became president with a mission to restore Russian greatness. He introduced initiatives to lower tobacco and alcohol use. He sought to embody vibrant masculinity and inspired hope as a skilled outdoorsman and judo practitioner. He capitalized on rising oil prices and checked the previously unchecked oligarchs. By the mid-2000s, Russia began to feel its strength again. Putin redeemed Russia in the eyes of many citizens, and in return, Russians gave him extraordinary deference over what it meant to be Russian. With this authority over definition, the authoritarian leader shaped Russian identity, promoting patriotism, Russian Orthodoxy, imperial nostalgia, suspicion of the West, and the desire to reconstitute the Russian Empire.
Russian citizens have long accepted Putin’s narrative about Russia and the West, whether they knew it or not. An example of this is Putin’s call to “denazify” Ukraine. After Ukraine gained independence in 1991, some nationalist groups drifted toward fascism, but they never wielded meaningful political influence. Putin nevertheless used their existence to justify the invasion. His denazification narrative succeeded because it was tied to historical trauma. Russians accepted this, not because they examined the facts closely, but because they trusted Putin, ignoring his suppression of any who opposed him.
More than four years into Putin’s war, however, Russians’ deference to their president is waning. A stagnating military campaign, economic hardship, and the continued erosion of human rights hurt Russian citizens. If the Russian military were making significant progress, many Russians would likely be more willing to tolerate high inflation, rising interest rates, and even Putin’s reconstituted secret police, but the war is in the doldrums.
Ukraine’s drone strikes deep inside Russia make Russians feel the cost of the war, as do the enormous casualties the Russian Army of forced recruits has suffered. As a result, Putin’s regime has felt the need to tighten its control even more over what independent media remains and suppress domestic protests more violently. These crackdowns are compounded by internet blackouts, with some Russians forced to turn to walkie-talkies as an alternative. In 2025 alone, internet blackouts caused more than 37,000 hours of disruption and an estimated $11.9 billion in lost economic activity. Putin is beginning to burden the very people he once claimed to be rescuing from chaos.
Under the circumstances, Russians may begin to wonder who exactly they are siding with and whether the state truly has their best interests in mind. What once “legitimized” Putin, at least in their eyes, has begun to fade. A struggling economy, a stalled war with massive casualties, and increasing crackdowns on basic freedoms are bringing back the same frustration and humiliation Putin worked so hard to erase.
Putin’s image as the redeemer who saved Russia from despondency and oligarchy cannot last forever. In World War II, the Soviet Union lost millions of men and yet still won, and Victory Day became a symbol of triumph, rather than a reminder of futile sacrifice. Russia’s unprovoked war against Ukraine will have no triumph to redeem the deaths abroad and the hardship and repression at home.
Increasingly, Russians are left to reckon with the possibility that their savior is no longer capable of delivering the stability and prosperity he once promised. Instead, the dictatorial Putin of today is capable only of presiding over their decline.
