Russia's Elite Adapts to Wartime Reality Through Cultural Conformity
Russian Elite's Cultural Adaptation in Wartime

As the fourth anniversary of Russia's full-scale war in Ukraine approaches, the country's liberal elite has demonstrated a clear strategy for survival: making peace with Vladimir Putin's regime. Those close to the Kremlin continue to prosper, while others merely strive to escape the worst repression, with no significant resistance emerging from within the upper echelons of power.

The Adaptation of Russia's Elite in Wartime

Four years into the conflict, Russia's elite has shown no inclination to challenge the difficult position Vladimir Putin placed them in through unilateral decision-making. Instead, they have largely adapted, reshaping themselves to ensure survival in what increasingly appears to be a state of permanent conflict. In this atmosphere of repression, top-level officials and public intellectuals tasked with ruling the country and shaping societal discourse remain reluctant to express their true thoughts directly.

Cultural Narratives as Political Expression

The narratives offered through state-backed cultural events provide some of the clearest expressions of how Russia's elite perceives its role in a wartime nation. This year, Moscow hosted two major government-supported awards ceremonies—one for books and another for films. In both instances, organizers played it safe, repeating familiar themes rooted in Soviet-era cultural and wartime mythology.

Prizes were awarded predominantly to individuals within the same orbit, often the families of well-known Soviet-era cultural icons. At the book festival, the grand prize went to Nikita Mikhalkov, a celebrated Soviet and Russian film director known for many things but not for writing books. The Mikhalkov family would win any competition for staying closest to the Kremlin for the longest duration.

Nikita's father, Sergei, wrote the Soviet national anthem under Joseph Stalin, rewrote it during the thaw period, and revised it again under Putin. Nikita, now 80, is a clear-cut imperialist and a close ally of Putin. The main film prize went to an interpretation of a Second World War story, co-directed by the son of another famous Soviet actor.

The Role of Culture Minister Olga Lyubimova

The film festival was launched and overseen by Nikita Mikhalkov. Russian Culture Minister Olga Lyubimova, herself a protégé of Mikhalkov, attended the awards ceremony seated next to her patron. Lyubimova is a proud descendant of another legendary Soviet actor, and her family has been close to the Mikhalkovs for decades.

None of the films or books showcased at these festivals contained any sign of dissent or even subtle allegorical critiques of Russia's current state. They were as straightforward and loyal as possible. As a prominent and well-connected member of Russia's elite, Lyubimova represents perhaps the clearest example of how that elite has adapted to wartime reality.

Career Trajectory and Political Alignment

Lyubimova began her career in the early 2000s as an aspiring television journalist but from the outset relied on her connections with Mikhalkov and the Russian Orthodox Church. Yet she happily mixed with Moscow liberals—during the 2000s, it still seemed possible to build a career without excessive consideration of the Kremlin.

Some of her friends and acquaintances were descendants of prominent Soviet families who felt nostalgic for the status lost with the Soviet Union's collapse. As journalists, many reported from post-Soviet hotspots in the 1990s—including South Ossetia, Abkhazia, and Serbia—and became convinced of a large US conspiracy against the Russian empire and its traditional allies.

Most of them, being ambitious, desired a role in Russian history. They became convinced that in a country like Russia, this could only be achieved by serving the ruler: you are either "in" or "out"—and if you are out, you are a loser. They embraced this logic before 2022. Now, during a time of repression targeting many Russian state institutions, including the culture ministry, this logic feels even more sound.

The Manifesto of Adaptation

Lyubimova offered perhaps the most succinct explanation of why people like her—neither narrow-minded nor brainwashed—chose to side with the Kremlin. When Moscow was deeply shaken by mass protests in 2010-2011 against Putin's return to the Kremlin, Lyubimova's liberal friends joined the demonstrations.

She responded by publishing online what she called Lyubimova's manifesto for surviving in this brutal Russia: "I lie on my back, spread my legs, breathe deeply, and even try to enjoy it." This blunt formulation is extreme but captures a broader mindset within the Russian elite today: a mix of ambition and adaptation to an increasingly vengeful political regime.

Many choose accommodation simply because they see no other way to remain part of the system and of history. Lyubimova's career seems to confirm this approach: five years after publishing her manifesto, she was made an adviser in the ministry of culture, and five years later, Putin appointed her minister. Since 2022, her ministry has been actively involved in promoting the war in Ukraine and Russification of occupied territories.

International Isolation and Geopolitical Pivot

Deep down, Lyubimova and her ilk still desire acceptance in the West. The European travel ban proved to be one of the most painful punishments for Russian officials, many of whom initially believed the war would not last long and they would soon return to Paris and Vienna. After four years, that illusion has disappeared, but the desire has not.

When Pope Francis died in April 2025, Putin's decision to send Lyubimova to Rome to attend the funeral was seen as a generous gift and aroused envy among many officials. Like them, she had been under an EU travel ban since December 2022, and it was lifted only for this occasion. A video from St. Peter's Basilica, showing the minister reverentially touching the pope's coffin, was proudly posted on her social media.

A month later, it was announced that Lyubimova would travel to Rome again, this time for the inaugural mass of Pope Leo XIV. However, she did not make it. According to the Kremlin, the trip collapsed due to "technical inconsistencies in her flight route." In reality, her plane was not allowed into European airspace.

This year, instead of Europe, she made official visits to Brazil and Qatar—in line with Russia's geopolitical pivot. On social media, she emphasized that inter-museum cooperation with Qatar was one of the most promising areas of partnership. Apparently, this would serve as a wartime substitute for Moscow's cooperation with the Louvre and other Western museums that endured during the Cold War but have now ceased.

The Narrowing Boundaries of Acceptable Behavior

The boundaries of acceptable behavior are narrowing, and the elite personified by Lyubimova is adjusting accordingly. Faced with what looks like a permanent war, they have chosen adaptation, internalization, and ultimately, isolation. This strategic alignment ensures their survival within the system while reinforcing the regime's cultural and political narratives.

The Russian elite's adaptation through cultural conformity reflects a broader reality of wartime survival, where ambition and historical legacy are negotiated through unwavering loyalty to the Kremlin's directives.