If you ask Russians, they will say that their country is the most peace-loving of them all. Russia does not start wars, and if it does take part, it is only in two cases: as a response to a direct attack, when it cannot be avoided, or for humanitarian reasons. “Russians do not want war” is the main message of Russian propaganda. This narrative logically transitions into another one, where a supposed inherent love for justice in the Russian people forces them to set aside the plough and the harp and take up the weapons they so despise.
In its complete form, this assertion is present in the old Soviet song “Do the Russians Want War?” which, against the backdrop of the war with Ukraine, has once again become relevant in Russia.
Не только за свою страну
Солдаты гибли в ту войну,
А чтобы люди всей земли
Спокойно ночью спать могли
Not only for their own country
Did the soldiers die in that war,
But also, so that people across the world
Could sleep peacefully at night.Do the Russians Want War (excerpt), by Yevgeny Yevtushenko
Written fifteen years after the end of Second World War, this song completely bypasses the issue of the Soviet Union’s responsibility (as the predecessor of modern Russia) for the deadliest war in human history. Had it not been for the non-aggression pact between Hitler and Stalin, with their secret protocols for dividing Poland, who knows, perhaps peace in Europe could have been preserved, and people could have slept peacefully without the need for that touching meeting of Soviet and American soldiers on the Elbe five years later?
The crudeness of Russian propaganda conveniently aligns with the population’s infantilism and their faith in everything their rulers say. A significant portion of the country’s citizens still believe that Vladimir Putin and Russia had no alternative but to invade Ukraine in 2014 and 2022, and that in 2008, Russian troops entered Georgia to save its Ossetian citizens from the Georgian army. Propaganda narratives about Russians’ reluctance for war and the forced nature of their involvement become even more pronounced at the start of the Second Chechen War (1999-2014). Here, not only ordinary Russians are trapped by official clichés and stereotypes, but even some experts from reputable non-governmental organizations.
According to state propaganda, on August 7, 1999, Chechen armed groups invaded the neighbouring Russian region of Dagestan from Chechnya, first targeting the mountainous Botlikh district and then the hilly Novolaksky district. Russian troops repelled these attacks, after which, Chechens allegedly began bombing buildings in Russian cities, making a full-scale war inevitable. The Russian leadership was forced to launch an operation to eliminate the “terrorist enclave” on the territory of the Chechen Republic.
This version began to crumble from the very start. It was revealed, for instance, that the explosives in the basement of one of the buildings targeted for demolition were not planted by some mythical terrorists, but by very real employees of the Russian security services. The growing scandal was smothered by the flames and thunder of war. The very next day, President Boris Yeltsin signed the decree “On Measures to Improve the Effectiveness of Counter-Terrorism Operations in the North Caucasus Region of the Russian Federation”. Massive bombings of Chechen towns and villages began, and within a week, ground troops advanced into the territory.
For many years, even critics of the Russian government did not question the sequence of events leading to the Second Chechen War. The narrative that “Chechens first attacked Russian Dagestan” was the key point that stuck in the minds of Russian citizens, and it was repeated in reports and documents on human rights violations in the North Caucasus. The apartment bombings, for which no Chechen was ever brought to trial—yet Russian security service agents were caught red-handed—were treated as an afterthought. These bombings influenced public perception of the already ongoing processes and the intensity of the conflict but not the war itself, which Russia allegedly had no choice but to start.
The narrative of aggression is convenient for the Russian authorities, but it is far from the truth. There is a wealth of documents and testimonies proving that the Russian government and armed forces had been preparing for months to take revenge for their loss in the First Chechen War (1994-1996). For example, in the spring of 1999, additional military units with armoured vehicles were deployed to regions of the Russian Federation bordering the Chechen Republic. By orders of the leaders of these regions (such as Stavropol Krai and Dagestan), the passage of civilian vehicles with Chechen license plates was halted, train services were cancelled, and scheduled bus routes were suspended. In North Ossetia, where the natural and climatic conditions are similar to those in Chechnya, military exercises were conducted.
On May 19, by decree of the President of the Russian Federation “On Additional Measures to Combat Terrorism in the North Caucasus Region,” troops on the borders with Chechnya were reinforced. Clashes began with the republic’s border guards. The Russian military used artillery, tanks, and aviation against their stationary posts, claiming that the actions were aimed at preventing “bandit formations from taking hostages.” In July, in a speech before the senators, the Russian Minister of Internal Affairs officially sanctioned the so-called pre-emptive strikes against the Chechen Republic. From this point on, press reports about the situation in the North Caucasus began to resemble front-line dispatches. The situation ultimately escalated into real battles. On July 29, 1999, Russian troops destroyed a Chechen border post near the city of Kizlyar and advanced several kilometres into the republic. Two days later, their advanced units, after fighting, captured the Grebensky Bridge and established a foothold on the Chechen side of the Terek River. The border clashes, during which Russian troops crossed the only natural barrier for a rapid advance across the flatlands of Chechnya, came to be known as the July Border Adjustment (page 134).
It is worth noting that the “Chechen attack on Dagestan,” from which Russian propaganda dates the beginning of the Second Chechen War, occurred a week later.
Did the Russians want war in 1999? Sergei Stepashin answered this question directly and unequivocally. According to him, the decision to invade Chechnya was made as early as March, when he was Prime Minister of Russia. The operation itself was scheduled for August-September and would have taken place “even if there had been no explosions in Moscow”.
Sergei Stepashin did not retract his admission, but he also did not repeat it elsewhere. His statement from January 2000 went unnoticed by Chechen experts, most of whom are Russians, as it contradicted the familiar and comforting narrative: Russians do not want war, and if they do enter it, it is solely out of a desire for justice.
This article is based on material from human rights organizations, collected and systematized in the electronic database of the Natalia Estemirova Documentation Centre (NEDC). This resource allows for a more objective view of the history of the Second Chechen War and the accurate classification of crimes committed during it.
You can explore some of the collected materials at the following address: https://www.nedc-nhc.org/
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