‘If I have to, I’ll go to jail’: Russians who refuse to fight in Putin’s war | world news

This isn’t the first time Mitya has packed up to leave Moscow this year.

He left for Uzbekistan in mid-March when the first rumors of mobilization and border closures caused a mass exodus of Russians.

Putin may have scored a ‘strategic own goal’ – latest updates

“I don’t think it will be a good place anytime soon or anytime soon,” he wrote then.

“But there are so many beautiful people trapped.”

In the months that followed, like so many others, he returned to Russia, not knowing what else to do.

“I’m somebody here and there, I’m just a nobody character, you know,” he said. “I’m not really wanted anywhere else, let’s face it.”

“Stay true to the story”

But he left. Mobilization was unlikely, but it was a possibility, if not now, at some point.

Safer for him to leave without a fixed plan, like hundreds of thousands of others, than to stay and fight one day.

He is optimistic about Europe’s conundrum of what to do with incoming Russians.

“I unfortunately think that if you stick to the narrative that you have chosen, that ‘we are liberals, we are for freedoms and rights’, then you should stick to that narrative. And that means you should allow people in,” he said. said. “Or if you don’t allow these people in, you’re not sticking to the narrative you’re fighting for – supporting Ukraine.”

Moscow has nearly emptied itself of its intelligentsia, but those fleeing across Russia’s borders are now a cross section of society across the country and beyond those liberal parameters.

Those who know that the “partial” mobilization may only be the beginning and who feel, finally, that the precarious status quo in which they have lived for seven months is no longer tenable.

Read more:
Putin managed to mobilize a Russian army – but to flee
Risk of nuclear attack ‘could increase’ once Russia annexes territories

“There is a fighting spirit”

And then there are those who are ready to fight – in the big cities and beyond, where the patriotic spirit burns deeper.

We drove just an hour north of Moscow to a small town called Klin to take in the vibe there.

Every bus stop in Klin is adorned with a Z sign, the town hall too.

“A lot of people from Klin go there, really a lot,” says Anya, whose husband wants to enlist voluntarily. “There are long lines at the military enlistment office, but the guys are all in good spirits. No one is sad, there is a fighting spirit.”

Heading to the front – or first to the distribution center of the Moscow region and then, according to officials, to training – takes place early in the morning.

At the mobilization center in Klin, a small group of friends and relatives take selfies and wait for their men to pass medical checks and then say goodbye.

There are tears here though. And beers. Alcohol is part of the farewell.

“I feel patriotism for my homeland, that’s why I enlisted,” says Andrey. “Against fascism and Nazism, for our children. I hope this ends as soon as possible because there should be peace. We are for peace.”

“If I have to, I will go to jail”

I ask a group of women if they think it was the right thing to mobilize now. “Nie! they shout in unison. “Nope!”

The bus pulls away, wives and girlfriends wipe away their tears, a toddler continues to happily play with a paper tube, blissfully unaware that his father is off to fight.

Back in downtown Klin, we encounter some hostility. A man tells me that it was the UK that declared war on Russia, that we should wait for the Russians to be our hosts.

It’s about a state television regime, where the UK, alongside the US, is the arch-villain.

“Sort out your own leadership, and then you can ask us questions,” he says.

But even here, it’s a mixed picture. We ask a young man if he would go to fight. As a student, he is exempt for the moment, he tells us, “but I will not go under any pretext”.

“If necessary, I will go to prison,” he said. “This shouldn’t have happened. It’s a crime what the government is doing.”