Public dissent has all but disappeared from Russian universities. Why?

Dmitry Rudenkin

 

Photo by Midhun Harikumar on Unsplash

Dissent over the War after February 2022

The first months following the start of Russia’s full-scale military aggression against Ukraine were accompanied by a noticeable surge of discontent within the Russian academic community. University faculty and researchers signed open letters against the war, joined anti-war statements, and published individual appeals. Public opinion surveys also recorded markedly critical attitudes toward what was happening to those working in higher education and research.

These expressions of dissent did not amount to a coherent protest movement, but they clearly demonstrated that Russian universities contained a significant group of people who were prepared to publicly voice their opposition both to the war and to the political course pursued by the authorities.

 

Have They Come to Terms with It?

As of 2026, public expressions of anti-war views have almost disappeared.

On the surface, Russian universities now appear calm, manageable, and loyal. Collective protest statements are rarely heard. Daily life within universities is increasingly integrated into the official political and ideological agenda.

At first glance, this might seem to suggest that the Russian academic community has come to terms with what is happening or has consolidated around the state. But how accurate is such an interpretation?

As this article explains, the decline in public outrage over the war and the policies of the authorities is associated with a more complex constellation of factors than the supposed consolidation of university faculty and researchers around the current government.

 

Transformation: How It Happened

To properly assess the behavior of the Russian academic community, it is important to recognize that it now operates under fundamentally different conditions than prevailed during the first months of the war.

The issue is not simply that the initial outrage failed to produce significant political consequences, with the result that the war has become an enduring backdrop to social and institutional life. More importantly, the framework shaping the everyday functioning of Russian universities has changed in the intervening years.

 

Ideological Reorientation

First and foremost, universities have undergone an ideological reorientation. Since 2022, not only have they been expected to demonstrate loyalty to the state, but they have also become involved in reproducing the war-related and patriotic agenda through mandatory courses, public events, meetings with participants in the war, and the symbolic mobilization of students.

Albeit that this reorientation has unfolded unevenly, it has changed the normative framework within universities. Employees are increasingly expected to demonstrate, at a minimum, formal conformity with the official agenda, while public dissent has progressively become riskier.

 

Risks Have Become More Immediate

The next level of change concerns the incorporation of university administrations into the broader repressive hierarchy.

Pressure on faculty is no longer exclusively external—coming from the police, the security services, or the courts. Instead, it has become part of everyday university life, transmitted through regulations, administrative directives, formal orders, and informal signals.

Dismissal, non-renewal of contracts, suspension from work, and even harassment have become common instruments of discipline. The risks have become far more immediate and tangible: they are associated not only with the state, but also with university administrators and colleagues.

 

Self-Censorship

Another mechanism of control has been the normalization of denunciations and internal surveillance.

The university classroom resembles less and less a protected space for communication. A lecture, seminar, social media comment, or private conversation can become grounds for a complaint—a risk that emanates not only from the administration, but also from students, colleagues, outside activists, and anonymous observers. Self-censorship therefore begins before a single word is spoken: people assess in advance how their words might be used against them.

 

The Experience of Punishment

The accumulated experience of punishment for disloyalty is particularly important. In 2022, the contours of this system were only beginning to take shape. Over the past four years, however, numerous cases have emerged involving dismissals, non-renewal of contracts, administrative and criminal prosecution, professional isolation, and emigration.

This practice has had not only a punitive but also a learning effect. Even those who have never personally experienced pressure have seen that sanctions are real and can be triggered by a public post, a remark made during a lecture, a signature on an open letter, or a conflict with students.

 

The Erosion of Channels of Solidarity

Another factor has been the weakening of horizontal channels of solidarity. Public dissent requires not only personal courage, but also an infrastructure of trust: professional networks, independent student media, autonomous communities, international ties, and the confidence that a person will not be left to face the consequences alone.

Since 2022, many of these channels have been pushed out, been discredited, or become sources of risk. Dissent is increasingly individualized, while individual action in a repressive environment comes to be perceived as far more dangerous than caution.

 

A Changing Academic Community

Finally, the composition of the Russian academic community itself has changed.

Some of the faculty members and researchers most willing to voice public dissent have been dismissed, pushed out of the profession, or forced into emigration. This has weakened not only the presence of critically minded groups within universities, but also their ability to organize publicly.

There are now fewer authoritative figures around whom a collective position might form. Those who remain critical of what is happening while continuing to work within the system are forced to pursue compromise and risk minimization.

 

A Strategy of Risk Minimization

Taken together, these changes have reshaped the everyday logic of behavior within Russian universities. Openly expressing a position is no longer perceived as an ordinary form of professional or civic expression; rather, it is understood as an action that may carry serious consequences.

Under these conditions, risk minimization becomes the most rational strategy, while keeping a low profile becomes the most common tactic of professional survival.

 

Beyond the Visible Consensus

This transformation matters—and not only as a description of the internal dynamics of the university environment. Indeed, taking it into account allows us to better understand the current state of the Russian academic community and to assess the possible trajectories of its further development.

Several conclusions are particularly important.

 

First, the apparent consolidation of the Russian academic community around the authorities’ policies should not be mistaken for a stable consensus.

The existing system effectively suppresses public expressions of dissent, but this does not in itself demonstrate broad support for the war or for the political course pursued by the authorities. While there may be genuine supporters of the government’s current policies within Russian universities, their existence does not justify automatically treating everyone who does not protest as a supporter of what is happening.

 

Second, the existing system is geared more toward pushing critical views out of public sight than toward eliminating them altogether.

It does not necessarily turn dissenting faculty members and researchers into supporters of the authorities, but it does make expressions of disagreement highly risky.

People who remain critical of what is happening may still be present within universities, but at the cost of compromise and self-censorship.

To an outside observer, this may look like the disappearance of discontent, yet in practice it may simply have shifted into less visible forms: private conversations, avoidance of political topics, and withdrawal from collective action.

 

Third, the Russian academic community is increasingly operating within a paradigm of risk minimization.

Under these conditions, a person’s willingness to take a public position is determined primarily by an assessment of the possible consequences: dismissal, denunciation, loss of teaching hours, professional isolation, conflict with the administration, or prosecution.

Within such a framework, minimal public activity is not necessarily a sign of agreement so much as a rational behavioral strategy.

 

Fourth, this adaptive strategy is situational rather than permanent.

It has been shaped by a specific combination of incentives and constraints: the risk of punishment, the absence of safe channels for collective action, dependence on university administrations, and the broader political environment. If these conditions change, public activity and the expression of critical views may become more visible again.

In this sense, the disappearance of public dissent from Russian universities should be understood not as independent evidence of loyalty, but as a symptom of a transformed institutional environment. This environment does not so much generate support for the authorities as cultivate caution, reduce the visibility of critical views, and make risk minimization the most rational strategy.

There remains the question of personal responsibility for those who participate in propaganda, pressure colleagues, or take part in repressive practices. But the absence of public dissent should not be taken as evidence of political loyalty.

 

* * *

Today, the Russian academic community operates under fundamentally different conditions from those that existed during the first months of the war. For faculty members and researchers who continue to work in Russia, the very logic of daily professional life has changed.

Pressure has become embedded in administrative procedures and everyday working practices. This directly affects which forms of openly expressed political positions and protest activity remain possible within universities.

This is the key difference between the current situation and the first months of 2022: whereas at that time public dissent was still a possible response to the initial shock, the space available for such dissent has now narrowed considerably.

Yet the outward calm of Russian universities should not be interpreted as the definitive disappearance of critical views. Rather, it points to the transition of the academic environment into a caution mode in which risk minimization has become the dominant strategy of everyday life and keeping a low profile represents one of the principal tactics of professional survival.

From the standpoint of understanding future developments, this distinction is crucial: the absence of visible protest may reflect not stable loyalty but suppressed dissent that might become more visible if institutional conditions change.

 

Dmitry Rudenkin is an independent researcher.