Time to read: 12 minutes(s)

"My son drew a tank." Anna Zueva, vice president of the Free Buryatia Foundation, on war and peace.

In March 2023, Buryatia journalist Anna Zueva left Russia. Prior to that, she had spent a year working closely with several independent media outlets following the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Buryatia, as one of the first regions to receive coffins of those killed in the "SVO," attracted the attention of leading media outlets. Anna Zueva spoke to NeMoskva about whether anything has changed in local residents' perceptions of the war over the past year, why they find it so difficult to resist propaganda, what the future might look like after the ceasefire, and why the Free Buryatia Foundation was founded and what it does now.

Anna Zueva. Photo: from personal archive

"I was wrong"

"Two days before the war, I was in Moscow. My friends and I were discussing the possibility of military action, of war. I brushed it off, saying it was madness to start a war in the 21st century. Vladimir Putin and his entourage are so fond of real estate on the Côte d'Azur, fancy yachts, cars, European vacations, and shopping in the EU that they're unlikely to start a war because all of that is much more valuable to them. But I was wrong."

All of March and April, I was so terribly depressed that I couldn't do anything at all. Neither work nor film. I was just trying to somehow keep myself together.

I talked a lot with my son about the war. I never hid anything from him, and he looked at the photos I showed him sparingly—of what the Russian army was doing to Ukrainian citizens. It was hard for him, of course, but I believe there's no need to hide anything from children. They understand everything, they feel everything. My child should know about the horrors of war because it's important to understand and comprehend it from childhood.

"Working openly was dangerous."

"Then I started to come to my senses, because I'm an independent journalist. There aren't many such journalists in Buryatia, and I'm a staff correspondent for various independent media outlets."

From the very first days of the war, Buryatia attracted attention because of the large number of zinc coffins containing Russian soldiers arriving there. My colleagues asked me to report on this, to film something, but military censorship had already been introduced, and working openly was dangerous. 

I didn't film the arrival of the planes carrying these coffins, but I did film several interviews with Ulan-Ude residents in mid-April. I asked them if they knew how many coffins had arrived in Buryatia? How many soldiers had died? How did they feel about it? This was also quite dangerous.

I was shocked by some of the responses. Among perfectly normal people who were utterly horrified by what was happening, there were also city residents I interviewed who sincerely supported the war and accused me of a lack of patriotism. It was very difficult to control myself. Mentally, these were very challenging editorial assignments.

Over the course of that year, I filmed various stories, but I didn't speak with the parents, wives, or siblings of the servicemen because they never gave interviews. Of course, I didn't film under my own name. I used a pseudonym. If it was a story with a voiceover, my editor simply read it out loud, so as not to expose me. Some materials were published under my first and last name—about the aftermath of the war. There was nothing in them that could have landed me in prison.

Photo: from personal archive

"Knowledge increases sorrow"

"I think older people trust television more and are susceptible to propaganda because they watch it more often. For example, my parents didn't even have good smartphones. They only got them because I left. And they have to communicate with me through some kind of instant messaging app. Before that, they had push-button phones. They had two sources of information: television and the state newspapers they bought."

Why are people susceptible to propaganda? Probably because we don't teach our children critical thinking at school or at home. We don't question anything—we're so naive, so stupid. We want to believe in a good Russia, a wonderful president, wonderful Russian officers who can't kill and torture Ukrainian men and women.

It's convenient to live like this. Because if you understand that Russian officers rape, abuse, steal, kill people with missiles, destroy churches, homes, and hospitals, your consciousness simply won't be able to handle it. People don't want to know the truth. They don't want to face the harsh reality, because it's so painful to live with this feeling and this knowledge. Knowledge multiplies the sorrow.

"The Russian Empire colonized Buryatia"

Historically, there are many military units in Buryatia. This is due to the fact that the Russian Empire colonized Buryatia, and since Buryatia borders Mongolia, and China is not far away, it was necessary to station its own troops.

Why are there so many coffins? Because we have many military units and the men who serve in them. Lipetsk Oblast, for example, doesn't have that many military units. But Buryatia has a lot of them because we're a border region. The empire defended its borders by deploying and dispersing military units along the periphery—in regions bordering other countries. For example, the Transbaikal Territory—there are also casualties there—is bordering China.

And a large number of military units means that someone is working there. Men work there, women to a lesser extent. And these military units in Buryatia are quite well trained. And when the war began, soldiers from Buryatia were among the first to be sent [to the front]. Because they were more professionally trained. That's why there are more fatalities in Buryatia.

Photo: from personal archive

Buryatia is also promoted as a region with excellent ecology. There's Lake Baikal. Officially, the region belongs to the central ecological zone of the Baikal Natural Territory. We have strict environmental requirements, and, accordingly, nothing is being built in the republic—no factories. At least not in recent decades.

Everything that existed in the Soviet Union has fallen apart. All that remains are the Ulan-Ude Aviation Plant, the instrument-making plant, the locomotive repair plant. And then there are the food service establishments: a bakery, a confectionery factory. And that's it. And nothing can be built in our republic. Because, supposedly, we are such a wonderful ecological territory, with strict environmental requirements.

Essentially, military units are one of the few opportunities for people to work somewhere. And people did. People went there. For guys from the villages, this kind of lifestyle is perfectly acceptable. You finish school, join the army, then sign a contract and serve in a unit in the Republic of Buryatia. And there's nothing wrong with that.

It's also important to understand that if you're an ethnic Russian who graduated from high school, served in the army, and went to college, you can leave Ulan-Ude, a rather depressing city, for Moscow, for example, and build a career there. This is more difficult for an ethnic Buryat, who is well aware of the level of racism and xenophobia they'll encounter in Moscow. That's why many hesitate.

And when we see obituaries for the deceased, we realize that for many, the pattern is this: nine years of school—college—the army—a contract with the Ministry of Defense. That's why so many died, including ethnic Buryats. I think we have about 700 dead. Every third of them is a Buryat.

"My son asked to go to the toilet to ask: Mom, what should I do?"

"At some point, I realized I had to leave. Because my son was in school, and it was gradually becoming militarized. Especially around February 23rd. One time, they had to draw tanks and planes, and my son asked to go to the bathroom so he could call me and ask, 'Mom, what should I do? Should I draw or not draw? Or should I leave the class altogether?'"

But I couldn't answer his call, so he had to draw a tank. And he came with this tank, all upset and sad.

Then, last December, the head of Buryatia announced that military personnel who had served at the front would be employed at the school, and I thought they would teach children how to handle machine guns. I realized that my son shouldn't live in this Russia. He needed to leave. For his sake and his future.

Photo: from personal archive

"The mobilization swept across the republic like a tornado."

After Russia's invasion of Ukraine began, a dozen Buryat men and women living abroad launched the #BuryatsAgainstWar campaign on social media. It was a response to the state propaganda narrative about "Putin's fighting Buryats." A little later, in early April, they created a full-fledged relief organization. The Free Buryatia Foundation currently has three main areas of work.

The first is informational. We explain why we cannot support this war, why it is criminal, and what its causes are. We interview fellow countrymen who left Russia after the war and mobilization began. 

We cover the stories of Buryat residents who instigated war, the criminal prosecution of activist Natalia Filonova and lawyer Nadezhda Nizovkina, and the republic's socioeconomic situation: poverty, lack of gas, and other problems. We also cover Buryat culture, the history of this people, and the loss of the Buryat language. We frequently give interviews to non-governmental Russian and international media, including Ukrainian ones.

The second is analytical. The analytical department records the number of soldiers killed in action from Buryatia. We count those who were born, lived, and served in Buryatia. This means that this list may also include men from other regions who were sent to serve in the republic. 

We're also keeping track of the number of ethnic Buryats killed in Ukraine. We're also debunking fake news about the Buryats, as the term "Buryats" is sometimes used to describe all people of the Mongoloid race fighting in Ukraine.

Our third focus is legal. The foundation's lawyers helped service members terminate their contracts. Last summer, this was still possible, and several hundred soldiers and officers managed to terminate their contracts. 

After the announced mobilization, the foundation's staff and volunteers evacuated men from Buryatia to neighboring Mongolia, 230 kilometers away. The foundation organized free buses and urgently transported people to Ulaanbaatar. At least 20 men, according to our estimates, went there. The foundation's staff neither slept nor ate during those terrifying days, as the mobilization swept through the republic like a tornado. Everyone was seized indiscriminately: from universities, shopping malls, and tiny villages. According to our data, at least 10 men were mobilized.

We know that in some regions and territories populated predominantly by ethnic Russians, quite a large number of people were also mobilized, but there is a serious disproportion. Buryatia has a population of less than 1 million, but only 10 men—Russians, Buryats, and representatives of other ethnic groups—were mobilized. However, there are 290 Buryats in Buryatia, so sending, say, 4 Buryats to war last fall is a colossal number for the Buryat people.

We also provide assistance to people facing discrimination and racism. For example, we advised Stella Kaziaki, a Rwandan resident of St. Petersburg, after she encountered a racist insult on a bus. We also assisted 23-year-old student Vladimir Maraktayev. He left Russia after being mobilized and went first to Mongolia, then to South Korea, where he lived at the airport for four months. On May 1, 2023, he managed to cross the border into the United States. In April 2023, we helped Artur Shuvalov, an actor with the Russian Drama Theater, leave Buryatia. The actor had faced harassment and economic abuse for a year due to his anti-war stance. We also write letters to political prisoner Natalia Filonova and participate in fundraising efforts to pay fines for people who have faced administrative prosecution due to their anti-war stance.

Photo: from personal archive

"The metropolis sees a danger in the national republics"

There are at least two possible scenarios. First, the country will become a true federation like Germany and the United States, and the republic will have greater rights and freedom to determine its cultural, linguistic, legislative, financial, and tax policies. Buryatia currently lacks this, because the Russian Federation exists only on paper and in slogans.

Putin has driven the national regions to poverty. This is a deliberate imperial policy of the dictator and his entourage. The metropolis sees the national republics as a threat, understanding that they might demand greater autonomy, so it keeps us dependent. After the war ends, this inequality must be eliminated and residents of the national republics must be given the opportunity to manage their own natural resources, first and foremost.

The second option is for Buryatia to secede from the Russian Federation, become a separate state, and create its own political nation. After leaving Russia and Buryatia in March of this year, I continued to develop my YouTube channel. "Zueva". I have 31 subscribers. I recently had a live broadcast on the topic of Buryatia's independence with activist Radzhana Dugarova from the Buryat-Mongolian democratic movement "Erheten." Some of what I said resonated, some didn't. However, if the residents of Buryatia hold a fair referendum and vote "yes" to secede from the Russian Federation, then why not? The main thing is for the people of my republic to be wealthy, healthy, and happy.

With Alexandra Garmazhapova. Photo: from personal archive

"I may never see Kyiv again."

Will relations between Ukraine and Russia be restored? It depends on how this war ends. If it ends with a Russian victory or with what Putin presents as a victory to Russians and the world, then it will be one thing. If Ukraine wins, which I have no doubt, and in fact, I believe it already has, then... in any case, the process of establishing ties will be very long.

Because my country has brought enormous suffering to Ukrainians. Forgiving this quickly is impossible. And it shouldn't be. I think it will take decades, and perhaps I won't even live to see these relations normalize. I might already be dead by then and never see Kyiv again.

God grant that my son at least lives to see this dialogue possible. If Russia acknowledges this defeat, pays reparations, creates memorials, if there are some commemorative dates on the Russian calendar, if there are programs on Russian federal television about how the Pskov Division killed people in Bucha, if films are made, documentaries and feature films, if everything in Ukraine is repaired, then perhaps dialogue will be possible. I am sure it will happen in this case; that's normal. Because we need to continue talking and not sever these ties. But if this war ends differently, it will all be a long time coming. Not in my lifetime.

Anna Zueva. Photo: from personal archive