Arseny, a young IT worker from Moscow, left Russia in September 2022 on the day President Vladimir Putin announced a partial mobilisation of young men to serve on the front lines of Ukraine.
“On the day of the mobilisation, my mother called at about 12 o’clock,” he remembered.
“I woke up late and hadn’t gone to work yet. Everyone was reading the news: On the border with Georgia, for example, there was a long queue and people were selling their cars. There was a general panic, and I flew to Yerevan.”
Estimates vary about how many Russians left their country after the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, but now, failing to build a new life abroad or perhaps missing familiar comforts, it’s clear that many have returned home.
Arseny returned in December 2023 after spending more than one year abroad.
Anastasia Burakova, a human rights lawyer and the founder of an antiwar initiative, Kovcheg (the Ark), told Al Jazeera, that while the group does not have exact numbers, “maybe about two million people left the country”.
“But a lot of them go back because it’s really difficult for people without an experience of international cooperation or knowledge of foreign languages and so on,” she said.
Burakova’s group provides legal and psychological assistance, language courses, and temporary accommodation for Russian emigres. It also organises opposition activities from exile.
“For now, I can say that close to one million people since the beginning of the war have stayed abroad,” she said.
“There were two huge waves of immigration. The first one was immediately after the beginning of the war – mostly people who want to speak publicly and risked political persecution were in this wave. And the second wave after demobilisation was announced. The second wave was not pro-war [but] mostly apolitical, staying out of politics and not following the news and so on.”
Many of those who left are well-educated and relatively privileged, therefore able to continue working remotely. The flow represented a brain drain on their homeland.
Artur (not his real name), another IT worker from St Petersburg, left immediately after Putin’s announcement of what Russia terms its “special military operation” in Ukraine on February 24, 2022.
“The war began unexpectedly, and it was very difficult to predict what the immediate consequences would be,” he said.
“Since I had an open Schengen visa, and the border with Finland was not yet closed, it seemed to me that this was generally a good strategy: to leave for the EU and see what was happening from there. Fortunately, I had a remote job and savings in cryptocurrency, which allowed me to leave literally in one day.”
In a few months, Artur returned to St Peterburg to prepare his paperwork for a more permanent departure. Then mobilisation was announced, so he hurriedly left again for Belgrade, the Serbian capital. Although he could not open a bank account, he had access to enough funds to get by.
But for this new diaspora, there were immediate challenges.
Many countries closed their borders to Russian citizens, barring exceptions such as humanitarian visas or asylum, which was a cumbersome process.
“A lot of people with an antiwar stance stayed in non-visa countries as in the South Caucasus, Black Sea region and Balkans, and unfortunately, the situation there has become worse,” Burakova said.
“The Kremlin right now is quite active in countries like Georgia and in Serbia and for sure, in Central Asia. And in these countries, I can’t say that it’s 100 percent safe for Russian exiles.”
Complicating the situation, Burakova said, is that a majority of Russians do not have both their internal and external passports, which are needed for overseas travel.
The internal passport functions like a national ID card, and with it, travel is restricted to only a handful of other former Soviet republics.
Those travelling further afield endured further problems, such as language barriers, employment and discrimination. Those who moved to Armenia or Israel found themselves uncomfortably close to another warzone, as those nations are engaged in conflicts with Azerbaijan and Gaza respectively.
After heading to Armenia’s Yerevan, Arseny moved to Serbia, where locals generally hold a positive view of Russians. But he eventually lost his job.
“I didn’t work for six months, and I was running out of money,” he explained.
“When I started looking for a job, there were some personal factors. It turned out that I could find a job somewhere in Europe, but probably in a bad company. In Russia, it was very easy for me to find a job.”
He returned in September 2023.
Meanwhile in Belgrade, Artur missed his friends, family and cat. He said he found the cost of living difficult and when he noticed his other friends in Belgrade slowly trickling back to Russia one by one, he decided to join them.
“I had a lack of faith that Putin would end the conflict due to a short wave of emigration, and was starting to understand that that the Russian economy is much stronger than expected, and that the war can last for years under the sanctions that were imposed, without any significant risk to the regime,” he said.
The initial fear of persecution back home subsided.
“For a non-public person there is no particular risk of repression,” Artur argued.
“That is, it exists, but there haven’t been many show trials to seriously think that it will somehow affect you. Of course, I wouldn’t shout my views at every corner, but I have never renounced my views, and I can always argue that I have always been against war and do not see anything in it that needs to be hushed up.”
Artur acknowledged that some of his friends support Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and speaking with them has become awkward, but he still tries to find common ground unless they openly support war crimes.
“In general, I can say that it is bearable. Prices have risen sharply in recent years, as everywhere, and even more so, but it has become much more comfortable in everyday life than it was in Serbia,” he said.
“You have to pay for this comfort by not being able to publicly express your point of view. But it feels like Russian society is very tired of the war; there are fewer posters with Z symbols on the streets. Among the overwhelming majority of people around me, there is a consensus that the war must be ended; there is no feeling that you are swimming against the current.”
