However, it is not only politicians who are losing patience. The wall between the Kremlin and the people, built for years through censorship and fear, began to crack from the most unexpected direction – the digital world of social networks. Victoria Bonya, the former Big Brother star with an army of 13 million followers, blew up the public space with a direct video message to Vladimir Putin. Her warning that “people will stop being afraid” became a real sensation.
The video has been viewed more than 25 million times, a figure that forced even the “Voice of the Kremlin” Dmitry Peskov to go into explanatory mode and promise that the criticism would be “actively dealt with”. And while Bonya fires his arrows from the safe distance of Monaco, an even more dangerous wave is rising in Moscow itself. Personalities such as lawyer Katya Gordon and, until recently, actor loyal to the regime Ivan Okhlobustin are no longer afraid to make fun of the “hollow” TV propagandists. Blocking the free internet has been called a “colossal mistake” that takes Russia back to the Soviet era, a comparison that irritates the young and tech-savvy generation.
When the cemetery becomes an investment center
The economic picture in Russia today resembles a “bunker under siege.” Interest rates of 14%, galloping inflation and an avalanche of mass bankruptcies are draining the lifeblood of the middle class. But the most eerie paradox lies in the so-called “business model of death”.
The only economic “boom” is observed in the most backward and depressed regions of the country. However, this growth is not due to industry or innovation, but to the bloody tranches for the volunteers at the front and the colossal compensations (up to 300,000 euros) for the families of the fallen victims. In today’s Russia, investment in “smoke meat” turns out to be more profitable than any real production. It is an economy of desperation where prosperity literally depends on the number of burials.
The myth of Putin’s untouchability began to melt away. Official figures show a collapse in approval, from a monolithic 86% at the start of the “special operation” to a critical 65.6% today. According to political scientists Abbas Galyamov and Dmitry Oreshkin, this decline does not mean an instant coup, but is a clear symptom of the “end of the honeymoon” between the leader and the nation.
Russians aren’t just war-weary—they’re irritated by civil disintegration. The lack of quality bread, the slow internet and the feeling of isolation turn the former pride into quiet resentment. The Kremlin may have enough oil and power structures to prolong the agony for years, but the historical clock is already ticking against it. When even “systemic” players like Zyuganov begin to draw parallels with the 1917 catastrophe, one thing becomes clear, the revolution is no longer a subject of history textbooks, but a looming premonition of the fall of the regime.
