Three decades after the repressive Soviet Union fell and then-leader Mikhail Gorbachev declared the country was opening up to the world, Russia has come full circle.
Determined to recapture the glory days of the USSR, President Vladimir Putin has been steadily winding back the clock on the country's fledgling democracy.
Independent media outlets have been shuttered, Western businesses have left and free speech has effectively been stamped out.
Anyone caught spreading "fake news" about the military — which ranges from reporting on Russia's invasion of Ukraine to small infractions like uttering the word "war" — now risks a prison sentence of up to 15 years.
With the signing of the new bill in March, the Kremlin — perhaps concerned by how dissent could challenge its narrative of a "special military campaign" — sent a clear message that any attempt to organise would no longer be tolerated.
There have been 15,443 detentions in connection with anti-war actions in Russia since the beginning of the war in Ukraine on February 24, according to the OVD-Info protest monitor.
While these do not compare to the 18 million Soviet citizens sent to Gulag concentration camps between 1929 and 1953 under Joseph Stalin's regime of repression, observers have noticed striking parallels between Russia's treatment of dissent then and now.
There are few avenues left for opposition figures and activists inside the country to publicly voice their outrage over the war, without risking fines, jail time and knocks on the door.
Instead, just like in Soviet times, what little remains of Russia's dissent has moved into the shadows.
The subversive resistance to Putin's war
On the surface, everyday life has not changed much in Moscow since Russia invaded its neighbour.
Unlike in Ukraine, where cities have been besieged, millions have fled and unimaginable atrocities have been committed, Russians continue to go to work and send their kids to school.
But the impact of the war lurks everywhere.
The letter Z has been spotted on buildings and emblazoned on the shirts of Russia's residents at pro-war rallies.
International brands that poured into the country after the fall of the Soviet Union, like McDonald's and Coca-Cola, are selling up and shipping out.
And opposition inside the country has effectively been stifled, according to Ian Garner, an expert on Russian propaganda.
"It's the way that the government has been going, one could argue, for two decades under Putin," he told the ABC.
"But what I think is notable is the extent to which the change accelerated within that first two or three weeks after the war [began]."
While polls indicate a majority of Russians support the invasion, it's difficult to gauge the extent of resistance to Putin.
February 24 was the "final nail in the coffin" of free speech, Mr Garner says. Today, any form of dissent is done "extremely subversively".
Some have downloaded a VPN to get around blocks on social media websites and foreign media. Analysis suggests that interest in VPN services has already skyrocketed since the start of the war.
More obvious signs of protest include writing anti-Putin slogans on walls, distributing messages like "No to War" on stickers or crying openly on public transportation to allow passengers to witness their emotions.
These acts aren't intended to capture extensive media attention, according to Russia expert Maria Silina.
Instead, she writes that they are designed to appeal directly to the public, perhaps in the hopes of fostering a larger anti-war movement.
But ultimately that may depend on whether residents return to Soviet strategies of dissent, according to Russian foreign, security and domestic policy expert Aglaya Snetkov.
"[That's when] you talk about your real beliefs only to close people," she said.
"And if you only speak to people that you trust, it means that no-one hears it … it's not public. And there's a question as to how much dissent has to be public to work."
Unable to speak freely and fearful of what will happen if they share their anger at the war online, many other Russians have made the decision to leave, fleeing to countries where some can continue to speak out against the Kremlin far from its reach.
Dissenters ask: Will there be a knock on the door?
The number of Russians who left the country from January to March 2022 is shocking.
Data from Russia's Federal Security Service (FSB) which was cited by the Moscow Times estimates 3.8 million travelled during this period.
In contrast, the total net emigration from 2000-2021 was 5 million, according to estimates by Russian political economist Konstantin Sonin.
While the 2022 figures include travel for work, business, tourism and private reasons, it's unclear how many have since returned.
The Moscow Times reports that a much higher number than usual fled to other countries of the former Soviet Union.
FSB agents have reportedly started asking the relatives of Russians who have fled the country to persuade the new émigrés to return, according to one human rights group.
IT analyst Boris Nedyalkov was among the millions of Russians who left at the end of February.
He was living in Moscow when Russia marched its troops into Ukraine and said he was in a state of disbelief for two days.
He has described the steady stamping out of dissent in Russia as "scary" and getting "worse and worse".
"In a sense, they are trying to scare you, so that you don't …[go] out and also the way [authorities are targeting protesters] is very random," he told the ABC.
"So they go for the organisers, obviously, but in regards to the regular people, such as myself, for example, it's completely random."
Most protesters are issued fines for a first offence. But Human Rights Watch has claimed that since the invasion, police have also used excessive force against dissenters while detaining them.
In several instances, the organisation claims authorities have inflicted abuse on those in custody which amounted to torture or inhuman and degrading treatment.
Mr Putin and the Kremlin are alert to any possible challenges to the narrative of the war that they have established, Mr Garner says, and public discourse has the potential to challenge that.
"Much of the power of the Putin regime is constructed around its control over language and symbolism," he said.
"And as soon as you allow other actors to perform in the ways that they want, even if they're not really criticising you very openly, even if they're not attacking you, you relinquish some form of control."
As residents have fled, they have described the situation in Russia as bleak, fearing it is sliding closer towards being a hermit kingdom.
"Russia is becoming absolutely isolated. It really looks like North Korea to me," Ekaterina Kotrikadze, who was an anchor for the independent TV Rain in Russia before she fled Russia, told CBS News.
Could there indeed be parallels between the two countries and their approach to dissent?
Putin taking tips from Kim Jong Un on restricting free speech
Vladimir Putin's own actions in invading Ukraine and committing atrocities there have transformed Russia into a "rogue state," says Alexander Motyl, professor of political science at Rutgers University Newark.
The former superpower has officially become the most sanctioned country in the world as a result of the war, surpassing Iran, Syria and even North Korea.
Yet it is unlikely Russia will ever be cut off the same way the hermit kingdom is, says Australia's leading North Korea expert, Leonid Petrov.
For a start, its citizens have been largely allowed to travel the world, they can access the internet and are better educated.
North Korea is also much smaller, the power is more consolidated and it has remained stable "over 70 years, whereas everything has changed for Russia," Dr Petrov said.
Mr Putin and Kim Jong Un are, however, learning from each other in terms of their approach to opposition and dissent.
"Kim Jong Un is learning how to deal with arch enemies and Putin is learning the best way to suppress opposition, curtail freedoms and how to distract domestic attention away from things like [those] freedoms being taken for granted,” he told the ABC.
They also share a lot of similarities in their leadership styles and personalities, Dr Petrov added.
"They're both reclusive leaders who are mindful of maintaining the stability of their regime," he said.
"They're full of mistrust [of] foreign counterparts and influences.
"They both rely on nuclear arsenals and Kim knows he doesn't need many nuclear weapons but just a few to feel secure. Putin also knows that."
Ultimately it is Mr Putin himself, rather than state repression, that has moved Russia from a "neo-fascist state" into a "full-fledged fascist state", Professor Motyl said.
"The key feature [of a fascist state] is the leader, a hyper-masculine, hyper-strong, hyper-wise, all-encompassing leader who knows everything and … to whom people kowtow to because that's the only way people deal with that kind of leader," he said.
"I call that a cult of personality. So it's the posters, the speeches, the centrality of this person and the celebration of this person.
"Every dictatorship has a central dictator, but in a fascist state, he is celebrated, he is venerated, he is adored."
Other observers argue Russia's regime does not fit the hallmarks of a typically fascist regime.
Putin's policies do not glorify the state over the individual, nor does Putin encourage people to participate in public life.
Dr Snetkov says terms like authoritarian or totalitarianism don't accurately describe Vladimir Putin's Russia either.
"[Putin] doesn't care what you do day-to-day in your private life, in a way that a totalitarian regime does … What he wants is for his regime to survive," she said.
Putin may not care what people do privately, but publicly, it's a different story.
Why Putin welcomes the 'cleansing' of Russian society
Student Evgenia Olimpieva was watching anti-war demonstrators in downtown St Petersburg when Vladimir Putin declared a special military operation in Ukraine.
She decided to leave shortly after, fearing that Russia's borders would be shut and there would be no flights back to the United States, where she is currently studying.
Ms Olimpieva was also concerned that she would be a target of authorities for her opposition to the war.
"Maybe it was my naive experience as a young person — we clearly have issues. But I did feel there was opportunity for change, and there was space for different opinions and different visions. I definitely felt that [Russia] were part of Europe," she told the ABC.
"Then I left for college, and while I was in college, the massive demonstrations [in 2011] occurred. And that was kind of a wake-up call a little bit for me.
"And then we fast forward to 2014, and basically, [it] was very clear that it was a different country."
Nowadays, she says there is no dissent left, especially in politics.
"The amount of the suffering [in Ukraine] is incomprehensible to me, and I feel angry and … incredibly sad," she said.
Mr Putin has welcomed the exit of those who don't agree with his war, calling it a "cleansing" of society.
"The Russian people will always be able to distinguish true patriots from scum and traitors, and will simply spit them out like a gnat that flew into their mouth," he claimed in a speech on March 16.
"This will only strengthen our country, our solidarity, cohesion and readiness to respond to any challenges."
But rather than uniting Russia, observers believe the opposite could prove true.
A permanent exodus of the country's best and brightest may only hasten the country's economic collapse and put pressure on Putin himself.
