Source: PostPravda.info 04.08.2025
URL: https://postpravda.info/en/stories/freedom-of-speech-en/andrei-kuzichkin-russian-propaganda-vs-nato/
At a time when Soviet propaganda could mobilize millions of Europeans to protest against their own allies, and communist parties gained significant support despite a wave of violence and terror attacks—the effectiveness of disinformation was staggering. Today, in the face of Russia’s war against Ukraine, history is disturbingly repeating itself. Pacifist slogans are once again becoming tools of Kremlin influence. Estonian publicist Andrei Kuzichkin warns: if we fail to recognize the threat in time, Russian narratives will once again poison European public debate. At PostPravda.Info, we are publishing an article by Andrei Kuzichkin, which originally appeared in Postimees.ee. In it, the author describes, among other things, the surprisingly high level of support for Putin in countries such as Italy, France, and Hungary.
Nikolai Karpitsky: Introduction
In the early 1980s, at the height of the Cold War, the Soviet Union was engaged not only in an arms race but also in a large-scale information war against the West. At that time, millions of Europeans took to the streets to protest the deployment of American intermediate-range missiles. In reality, they were demanding NATO’s disarmament—while the USSR had already unilaterally stationed hundreds of such missiles along its western borders. Simultaneously, leftist terrorist organizations inspired by Marxist ideology were active throughout Europe. They carried out bombings, kidnappings, and political assassinations, targeting NATO military facilities and representatives of big business. Despite this atmosphere of violence and danger, communist parties continued to enjoy considerable support among Europeans.
The average support for communist parties in Western Europe in the early 1980s was between 5% and 8%, but in individual countries their influence was much greater. In Greece, around 10% of voters supported the communists; in France, up to 17%; and in Italy—nearly 30%. These numbers reflect the enormous power of the Soviet propaganda machine. If even a tenth of its former influence survives today, it remains a serious force capable of shaping public opinion in Europe.
Today, Europe faces a new challenge—Russia’s war against Ukraine. Against this backdrop, the deeply rooted pacifist trend in European society, shaped after the fall of the USSR, takes on particular significance. War fatigue and the desire for peace at any cost are becoming fertile ground for the spread of Kremlin narratives. This is precisely the issue highlighted by Estonian publicist Andrei Kuzichkin.
Andrei Kuzichkin and Nikolai Karpitsky
Andrei Kuzichkin: Is Europe Capable of Responding to the Russian Threat?
Optimists allow for the possibility that Russia’s war against Ukraine might end this year. Pessimists believe it could last for decades. But the most important thing is that no one can truly imagine how the world will change after this war, what future awaits Ukraine, or what fate will befall Russia.
And although we, the people of Europe, overwhelmingly wish for Ukraine’s victory—and are making significant efforts in the form of military and humanitarian aid—I believe Putin still has the means to shift the situation in his favor and force not only Ukraine, but also Europe, into capitulation. Here are my arguments.
In June 2025, the American research center Pew Research Center published the results of a global survey conducted in 25 countries on attitudes toward Vladimir Putin and Russia. It turned out that Putin remains the most unpopular leader in the world, receiving negative ratings of 90–95% in countries such as Sweden, Poland, the Netherlands, and Spain.
However, in a country like Hungary, the level of trust in Putin has not decreased over the past year—in fact, it has risen, from 23% to 32%, largely due to the favorable stance of Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán toward the Kremlin leader. Furthermore, Europe is experiencing rapid polarization of public opinion along party lines. For example, in Germany, 47% of voters for the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) party have a positive view of Putin.
A similar situation can be observed in Italy among supporters of the “Northern League” and “Brothers of Italy” parties. Yet far more troubling is the persistently high level of sympathy for Russia among people in various European countries. It is clear that countering Russian aggression should not be based on the image of the current leader—who may be gone tomorrow—but rather on an understanding of the long-term threat posed by the inherently aggressive nature of the Russian state. And in this regard, Europe is in a dire state.
Countries in Northern Europe and Poland have a clearly negative view of Russia, with support for Russia not exceeding 6%. But in France, nearly 20% of respondents say they have a favorable opinion of Russia. In Italy and Hungary, every third person expresses a positive attitude toward Russia, and in Greece, the share of Russia sympathizers reaches nearly 40%. Recent polls in Slovakia showed that one in three citizens there would not oppose an alliance with Russia. Meanwhile, Hungarian diplomats in Europe reportedly share at informal meetings that young people in their country are enthusiastically learning Russian, because “the future belongs to Russia.”
It is precisely this contradictory attitude toward Russia that the Putin regime exploits to weaken Europe’s position on military support for Ukraine. The toxic influence of the Russkiy mir (“Russian world”) has clearly grown in Europe over the years of war.
Europe Is Willing to Send Weapons, but Not to Fight
According to Eurobarometer data, 70% of Europeans support financial and humanitarian aid for Ukraine, and 60% are in favor of supplying military equipment. The strongest support for arms deliveries comes from Northern Europe—over 90%.
However, year by year, support for military aid to Ukraine is declining. In France, Germany, Poland, and Luxembourg, support has dropped by 10–15% over the past three years. In many European countries, less than half the population now supports continued military deliveries to Ukraine. These numbers correlate with the share of people who believe Ukraine will win the war: over 60% in Northern Europe, Poland, and the Baltic states—but less than 50% in other countries.
At the same time, Europeans are united in their unwillingness to send their own national troops to Ukraine as part of a peacekeeping contingent. Europe is simply not ready to go to war with Russia—neither in Ukraine nor on its own soil. Opposition to sending ground troops to Ukraine ranges from 67% in Sweden and Denmark to 90% in Hungary.
According to data from the European Council on Foreign Relations (ECFR) from June 2025, 60% of Europeans say they are ready to defend their own country in the event of a military threat. However, fewer than 30% are willing to fight abroad or help neighboring countries. The leaders in readiness to defend their homeland are Lithuania, Estonia, and Hungary (over 70%). In contrast, only 14% of Slovak citizens say they would defend their own country.
A deeply alarming fact is that in the six largest NATO countries in Europe (the UK, France, Italy, Germany, Spain, and Poland), less than 50% of residents support the use of military force to defend allies against Russia. This means Europe is not prepared to mobilize its population in the event of a military confrontation with Russia. And that, too, is one of the sources of strength for the Putin regime.
From a military-technical perspective, NATO is far stronger than Russia. But today, Ukraine is suffering defeats on the front lines mainly due to a lack of manpower: the country’s mobilization resources are depleted. And it is people—with the support of equipment—who must storm enemy positions and launch counteroffensives. Not the other way around.
In this regard, Russia holds a clear advantage—practically unlimited human resources, enabled by a relatively effective system of commercial military contracts. This system alone brought around 200,000 soldiers into the war against Ukraine last year (a figure confirmed by Western experts). Studies show that Europe possesses such a resource to a much lesser extent.
Is Europe a Victim of Its Own Naivety?
The set of problems that undermines the effectiveness of Europe’s defense policy and increases its vulnerability to Russian aggression is also connected to Europeans’ poor understanding of life in Russia. Russia’s complete information isolation limits the availability of credible sources on what everyday life in modern Russian society is really like.
Moreover, the Russian diaspora abroad often promotes wishful thinking as fact, spreading false narratives in the Western world about the situation in Russia. For example, the Russian opposition enthusiastically talks about the imminent collapse of the Russian Federation due to the secession of its national republics. In reality, however, these national republics are currently a key source of legitimacy for Putin’s regime—their elites are fully integrated into the Kremlin’s power system, support for Putin in regions with large non-Russian populations exceeds 80%, and ethnic organizations actively support the war in Ukraine.
Another illusion is tied to the myths about the inevitable collapse of Russia’s economy due to Western sanctions and the depletion of the Kremlin’s resources to continue the war. European sanctions have indeed limited Putin’s ability to finance the war. However, the limited scope of these sanctions and their gradual, drawn-out implementation have given Russian economic and financial institutions time to adapt.
That’s why, after the 18th sanctions package was introduced, a popular joke in Russia emerged: that the 118th EU sanctions package will target the use of Russian bees as drones. It’s also an illusion to believe that the collapse of the Russian economy will lead to mass protests and that hungry Russians will take to the streets to overthrow Putin’s regime. Today, the quality of life in Russia has remained virtually unchanged compared to the pre-war period.
Domestic production and trade relations with nearly all countries in the world—including with Europe—enable Russian markets to be filled with a wide range of goods and food. Yes, systemic problems have already surfaced in many sectors of the economy. However, they are still far from reaching the scale of a national catastrophe.
The Central Bank of Russia’s strict monetary policy, combined with the financial “safety cushion” of the National Wealth Fund—amounting to 130 billion euros—will allow the Russian economy to stay afloat for a long time to come.
Some analysts are betting on war fatigue among the Russian population and mass impoverishment. However, the wealth of Putin’s oligarchs has grown during the war, and millions of Russians are benefitting from it—they won’t tire of receiving money for working in the defense industry, for military contracts, or for fallen relatives. And they won’t be ashamed of this “blood money,” because Russian mentality contains many psychological codes that make people more resistant to such losses. For example, there’s a common saying: “Shame isn’t smoke—it won’t burn your eyes.”
That’s why I watched with regret as Russian opposition activists tried to appeal to the conscience of young people working in Tatarstan at the “Alabuga” plant, which produces “Geran-2” drones based on Iranian technology. A report on this topic appeared on the Russian military TV channel Zvezda. Some commentators asked: “Do these young people really not understand that they’re building tools of death that destroy Ukrainian cities? Are they actually proud of this?!”
Unfortunately, yes. They were, are, and will be proud of it—like any engineer, specialist, or weapons manufacturer; like the creators of arms who, in every era and every country, enjoy the highest social status. This isn’t a pathology—it’s a particular psychological model based on detachment from the consequences of one’s work: it’s not the gun that kills, but the person who pulls the trigger.
If that weren’t the case, then the makers of Damascus steel sabers or AK-47 rifles should have been consumed with shame over the millions of victims of their work. Instead, they became national heroes, forging weapons in defense of their homeland. The Putin regime mercilessly exploits the “defender of the motherland” archetype and the “besieged fortress” mindset, effectively transforming Russian citizens into a nation of war.
That’s why emotional appeals to the shame and conscience of defense industry workers in Russia, Iran, or North Korea are useless. Only preparing Europe for the inevitable armed conflict with Russia will help.
This, perhaps, is the greatest illusion held by many European politicians—and by Donald Trump—that the war in Ukraine can be ended through negotiations or a “deal.” Born and raised in the USSR, involved in politics, having worked as a government official in post-perestroika Russia, and having looked Putin in the eye many times during meetings, I say this with full responsibility: it cannot be done.
I fully understand the Western elite’s reluctance to engage in open military confrontation with Putin—especially in the absence of social consensus in their own countries and given the risks of catastrophic consequences from a large-scale war on the European continent. It is, of course, possible to keep living with eyes tightly shut.
But when you finally open them, the Russian flag may already be flying over the Acropolis in Athens and the Reichstag in Berlin. The Eiffel Tower might be torn down as a symbol of LGBT values, Russian tanks could be stationed at Verdun, the Speaker of the British Parliament might be addressing the chamber in Russian, and victory parades of the East over the West may be held regularly in Tiananmen Square in Beijing.
