Mistranslated Reality: How Differing Realities Divide Russia’s Opposition
By Alex Chumakov, PhD researcher in Politics at the University of Manchester and investigative journalist
Since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, a deep fracture has emerged within what remains of the Russian opposition. The most recent battleground is the controversy surrounding the so-called 'Партия чужой крови' – translated to convey the meaning as 'The Party of Those Who Sacrifice Not Their Own Blood' – a term that encapsulates the critique of those who, from the safety of exile, calls for sacrifices they do not bear. This term was coined by Lev Shlosberg, a senior figure in Yabloko, Russia’s oldest liberal party. His criticism of exiled opposition figures who advocate for total Russian defeat has sparked an ideological and strategic confrontation that reveals fundamental rifts within Russia’s anti-Putin movement.
This blog explores how these divisions shape the wider Russian opposition, examining the narratives of those who remain in the country and those in exile. While both factions claim to oppose Putin’s regime, their competing perspectives and strategic differences have made real cooperation almost impossible. Instead of building a united front, they speak past each other, reinforcing ideological silos that limit their influence.
Yabloko’s Moderate Opposition and the Limits of Its Influence
Yabloko, founded in the early 1990s, has long positioned itself as Russia’s liberal conscience, advocating democratic reforms, human rights, and non-violence. Unlike more radical opposition figures, Yabloko has always played within the system, participating in elections and engaging in dialogue with authorities – even as its electoral influence waned and its candidates faced increasing repression. The party's approach, however, has left it in an uneasy middle ground: too oppositional to be tolerated by the Kremlin, yet too moderate for many anti-Putin Russians who see systemic engagement as futile.
Lev Shlosberg at the congress of the Yabloko party. Source: Yabloko Press Service
Shlosberg’s critique of exiled oppositionists highlights this dilemma. He condemned those who enthusiastically welcomed Ukraine’s incursion into the Kursk region, stressing that a politician should never celebrate the suffering and deaths of their own people, even if that people is misguided. Shlosberg’s stance is not Yabloko’s official position, though it remains a widely supported view within the party. Shlosberg asserts that those calling for Russia’s total defeat, whom he labels the “party of others’ blood,” are detached from the reality faced by Russians inside the country. In contrast, Shlosberg and Yabloko insist on a peaceful resolution, condemning both Putin’s war and radical retribution against Russia itself. According to Shlosberg, the most urgent priority is an immediate ceasefire, followed by negotiations.
The Radicalism of Exile and the Shift Toward a Hardline Stance
On the other side, many Russian opposition figures in exile – journalists, activists, and former politicians – have embraced a more uncompromising stance. Figures like Garry Kasparov, and Sergey Parkhomenko, and media personalities such as Viktor Shenderovich argue that only a complete Russian military defeat, followed by full regime collapse, can bring real change. For them, any attempt to negotiate or seek internal political compromise is naive, given Putin’s unrelenting crackdown on dissent.
The Ukrainian patriotic narrative has reshaped how the West views Russia’s opposition, sharpening ideological divides. In Europe and the U.S., the idea of collective Russian guilt is gaining momentum, driven by Ukrainian intellectuals, politicians, and diaspora voices. They argue that the war is not just Putin’s aggression but a direct consequence of Russia’s imperial legacy. This perspective places exiled opposition figures in a difficult position. Many must now balance their fight against the Kremlin with the expectations of Western audiences. To some, they are allies in dismantling imperialism. To others, they are not radical enough.
Some, however, try to maintain a middle ground. Yulia Navalnaya, stepping into her husband’s role, has framed the war as Putin’s crime but also acknowledged the responsibility of high-ranking officials. “Another country’s army entered our territory. And Putin is responsible for this,” she said, adding that top government figures, including Prime Minister Mishustin and Central Bank head Nabiullina, also bear responsibility. This positioning attempts to strike a balance – blaming the regime without fully embracing the idea of collective Russian guilt.
Yulia and Alexei Navalny. Source: instagram.com/yulia_navalnaya
The exiled opposition's frustration is understandable. Years of failed protests, mass arrests, and the poisoning or outright assassination of opposition leaders – most notably Alexei Navalny – have eroded faith in systemic engagement. From abroad, where direct repression is absent, it is easier to adopt a maximalist position, rejecting any form of dialogue or negotiation.
However, this radicalisation comes at a cost. Some opposition figures have moved beyond condemning Putin’s regime to actively celebrating Russia’s military failures and endorsing Ukraine’s incursion into the Kursk region. This alienates those within Russia who oppose the war but reject the notion that all Russians must suffer for the Kremlin’s actions. As Lev Shlosberg warns, “You must not wish death, suffering, or misfortune upon your own people—whether you are abroad, in prison, or under the threat of arrest. [...] A Russian politician who rejoices in the deaths of Russian citizens ceases to be a Russian politician. This, too, is a political choice, but one that must be acknowledged openly. Do not call yourself part of the Russian opposition if you tarnish its flag with bloodthirsty and spiteful expectations.”
In contrast, exiled figures often embrace a different moral framework, one that absolves them of any connection to Russian society as a whole. For them, Russia is not merely a dictatorship – it is the aggressor, and its suffering is a natural consequence of its actions. As Viktor Shenderovich argues, “Lev Shlosberg’s emotional humanist tone cannot obscure the intellectual deficiency of his position. This is a war, one started – unfortunately – by our own state. Ukraine’s military response is entirely legitimate, including, of course, on the aggressor’s territory (Russian territory). And, unfortunately for all of us, these military actions are also entirely justified in moral terms.”
Fractured Opposition: A Legacy of Division and a Gap Too Deep to Bridge?
The Shlosberg controversy highlights a long-standing problem for the Russian opposition: the chronic difficulty of uniting different liberal forces. Even before the war, Russian liberals had trouble uniting. Yabloko, rooted in social liberalism, leaned left, while the now-defunct Union of Right Forces (SPS) represented a more pro-market, right-liberal agenda.
Trying to unite them was like mixing oil and water – each with his own vision of what Russia should be. The rift runs deep. It is not just a strategy – it is a question of identity. Yabloko believes in gradual legal change. The opposition in exile sees revolution as the only way. The question remains: is unity necessary at all? In Western democracies, coalitions are formed out of necessity, but in Russia’s opposition landscape, the ideological divide resembles a bitter rivalry – akin to centrist and far-left factions debating economic policy in the UK or the US, except that it is happening under the shadow of state repression and war.
The war has added fuel to the fire. It has deepened radicalisation, further pushing factions apart and locking them in their information bubbles. Opposition leaders in exile speak to Western audiences. Those in Russia must watch their words to avoid prison. They no longer interact with each other. Sociologists call this “group polarisation.” When people hear only voices that mirror their own, they become more radical. This is what has happened to the Russian opposition – on all sides. The phenomenon is visible in both exile and opposition circles inside the country, where mutual suspicion has replaced dialogue. Exiles, Ukrainian voices, and Western governments insist on a full reckoning with Putinism. Meanwhile, those still in Russia live under constant threat, forced to calibrate their words for the sake of survival. Their goals may coincide, but their realities are worlds apart.
Why the Opposition Does Not Hear Itself
One of the most striking features of this debate is the extent to which neither side truly hears the other. The exile community views Yabloko’s calls for peace as naive, even bordering on collaborationism. Yabloko, in turn, sees the exiles as disconnected from the realities of repression and state control inside Russia.
This lack of mutual understanding can be analysed through the lens of discourse analysis. In exile, opposition figures operate within a Western media environment that rewards clarity, moral absolutism, and anti-Putin rhetoric. Their message is shaped by the expectations of international audiences, for whom Russia’s defeat is not just a strategic necessity but a moral imperative.
Meanwhile, those still inside Russia are trapped in a different discursive framework – one defined by state control, the risk of prosecution, and a population that, at best, is politically apathetic and, at worst, deeply entrenched in nationalist propaganda. Shlosberg’s language is calibrated to navigate these constraints, avoiding outright provocation while still opposing the war.
Is Reconciliation Possible?
The divide between these two camps is not merely an intellectual dispute – it has tangible consequences for the future of Russian politics. As long as the opposition remains fragmented, Putin’s regime faces little serious internal threat. The challenge is to bridge the gap between domestic and exiled opposition forces, finding a way to communicate with Russians inside the country without alienating those who have left.
For this to happen, the opposition needs a new framework – one that acknowledges the legitimacy of different strategies while recognising the shared goal of dismantling authoritarianism. It requires a shift away from binary moral judgments toward a more strategic, inclusive approach. Whether the fractured opposition is capable of this remains an open question. In the meantime, Putin’s grip on power remains firm, and the greatest beneficiary of this internal discord is the Kremlin itself.