9 May – Victory Day – has become the foundation of Putin’s war machine. What was once a day commemorating the end of World War II has transformed into Russia’s most dangerous weapon: a mythological cult that fuels aggression against Ukraine and threatens all of Europe.
While many Westerners struggle to understand why Russians support their country’s brutal invasion, the answer lies in how Putin systematically weaponized history, turning 9 May from remembrance into a license to kill. This “victory cult” doesn’t just celebrate the past – it demands new wars, new enemies, and new “victories” to sustain Russia’s imperial fantasy.
For those unfamiliar with how deep this manipulation runs, let me walk you through the dark evolution of Victory Day – from Stalin’s uncomfortable relationship with war veterans to Putin’s militaristic spectacle that now serves as moral justification for genocide.
Who owns Victory Day? As Trump and Putin clash over power, Ukraine holds the receipt
Part 1. Historical background from Stalin to Brezhnev
Stalin and the hidden truth of war
From the moment the European theater of WWII ended, Stalin saw no point in amplifying war remembrance. The victory was too ambiguous: the country lay in ruins, tens of millions died, millions of soldiers returned maimed and embittered, and the popularity of generals threatened Stalin himself.
From 1945-1947, 9 May was an official holiday with modest ceremonies. But by 1947, Stalin abolished the holiday, and references to the war primarily appeared as glorifications of Stalin himself.
Mass culture featured no images of disabled veterans — only smiling heroes with perfect features. In the first years after the war, tens of thousands of disabled war veterans— people without limbs, burn victims, the paralyzed — were transported away from Moscow and Leningrad to “sanatoriums” that were actually concentration camps. All this was done to avoid “spoiling the picture.”
Those who suffered most became inconvenient.
This coincided with repressions against popular military commanders. The army began to be led by Kremlin-friendly civilians rather than charismatic combat commanders.
Stalin didn’t want war remembrance to strengthen popular unity or the army. Instead, he feared it might increase domestic demands for reforms, democratization, or a more humane regime.
All official memory was caricaturized mythology with Stalin as the main “victor.” The real people — soldiers, widows, orphaned children — were forgotten.
Khrushchev’s “thaw” – war through soldiers’ eyes
After Stalin’s death, Khrushchev attempted to dismantle parts of Stalin’s legacy: debunking the cult of personality, softening the repressive system, and reducing societal fear.
So he allowed a return to the topic of war.
For the first time, people could speak more freely about what really happened during the war and under Stalin. Consequently, not just marshals and party officials but soldiers and junior officers began talking.
For the first time, frontline soldiers were portrayed as vulnerable, tired, real people, not mass-produced heroes. Books and films emerged — “The Living and the Dead,” “Life and Fate” — presenting truthful, if limited, soldiers’ memories.
The focus shifted from glorification to trauma — for the first time acknowledging that victory came at an unbearable price. But even this proved dangerous — the truth about the war called into question the Soviet regime’s legitimacy, so the “thaw” on this topic was quickly “refrozen.”
Grossman was banned, and new films underwent strict censorship.
Brezhnev and the official cult
In 1964, a quiet conspiracy in the party leadership removed Khrushchev, with Leonid Brezhnev becoming the new leader. Amid instability, economic difficulties, and disappointment in Khrushchev’s reforms, the new government sought to strengthen its legitimacy through history.
In 1965, Brezhnev officially reinstated Victory Day. Parades were held, and 9 May became a holiday again. This time, the war was presented as a positive foundation for Soviet identity, but with an emphasis on sacrifices — so it would never happen again. We won at the cost of millions of lives.
Official propaganda intensified with films like “Liberation” giving almost 100% screen time to marshals and political officers. Yet Soviet art maintained a human portrayal of war in films like “Twenty Days Without War,” “The Belarusian Station,” and “Only Old Men Go to Battle.”
Despite everything, 9 May never became the USSR’s main holiday. It ranked behind:
- 7 November — October Revolution, the main “ideological” holiday marking Soviet power’s birth
- 1 May — Labor Day, the holiday of workers and peasants, a symbol of Soviet “progress”
- New Year — the most popular “secular” holiday among the people
Victory Day carried emotional weight but wasn’t the cement of state ideology. It remained a day of remembrance, not militaristic fanaticism.
Part 2. On the path to madness
After the Soviet Union’s collapse in 1991, Russia found itself economically, politically, and ideologically disoriented. The new leadership under Yeltsin tried to distance itself from the Soviet legacy.
Market reforms, privatization, and survival took center stage — not historical memory.
Victory Day remained an official holiday but lacked sacred status. It was largely a nostalgic, “domestic” day without loud official pomp. People laid flowers, veterans gathered in parks, but without militarism. There were no parades, and television didn’t transform into continuous historical propaganda.
The cultural environment remained relatively free: films and books emerged discussing both Soviet crimes and war truths. But disappointment with the new government intensified nostalgia.
The first attempt to seek legitimacy in the past came during the 50th anniversary in 1995, coinciding with the deeply unpopular and unsuccessful First Chechen War. Against the backdrop of Yeltsin’s election campaign and Chechnya failure, the state decided to hold large-scale celebrations.
This was the first instance in Russia’s modern history when 9 May was used as a political tool to boost the president’s ratings. But until the end of his rule, the topic was barely revisited.
When Putin, a man without firm convictions, came to power, he quickly distanced himself from 1990s rhetoric and began seeking foundations for his legitimacy and regime. The most convenient was the “great victory in the Great Patriotic War,” which required no proof and was perceived as “sacred” in Russia.
In 2005, the first large-scale parade with international leaders took place, featuring an enormous budget, military equipment, concerts, and fireworks.
This was no longer just a commemorative date — it was a show.
Ideologically reminiscent of the Soviet format, but with a new message: “we can do it again,” supposedly demonstrating Russia’s “revival of subjectivity.”
The narrative changed fundamentally. War themes became fashionable. This wasn’t yet “war becomes fashionable,” but heading there.
Memes like “To Berlin!” and “Our grandfathers fought” emerged.
Later, the “Immortal Regiment” was launched — initially as a grassroots initiative but quickly transformed into a state mobilization tool.
For the first time since 1945, war was presented not as a tragedy to remember but as a valorous deed to repeat. Power structures, particularly the NKVD, were heroized. Children’s “NKVD officer” costumes appeared, textbooks were rewritten, and emphasis on Stalin’s role increased.
In 2010, Putin first claimed Russia would have won the war without Ukraine.
Russia’s version of “messianism” began forming: we defeated fascism, therefore we are the world’s moral leaders, therefore we can do anything. The USSR (read: Russia) was portrayed as the world’s sole savior.
Only Ukraine can slay the Soviet “victory myth” that fuels Putin’s war
Putin’s regime used 9 May as universal cement to legitimize his rule, create a pseudo-ideology of the “Russian world,” and transform war into the ethical foundation of statehood.
At this stage, war remembrance transformed into a war cult justifying repression, aggression, and internal tyranny.
The war cult — “pobedobesie” (victory obsession) — became a ritual of collective absolution from guilt. Instead of remembering Soviet crimes, they were silenced, replaced with “but we won.” This compensated for the “humiliation” of the 1990s, revealing the destructive effect of unprocessed resentment.
Part 3. The era of madness. Can 9 May be “saved”?
After Crimea’s annexation and war in Ukraine began, 9 May finally became an instrument of war. Putin’s regime began rewriting World War II to justify modern aggression.
Russians were now “the only people continuing the holy war.” In each of the Kremlin’s modern wars (Georgia, Ukraine, Syria), the enemy was labeled “fascist.” The 2014 Maidan was presented as a “Nazi coup.” Ukrainian volunteers, veterans, and activists were called “Banderites” and “SS remnants.” The propaganda aimed to dehumanize Ukrainians and justify any violence.
Parades became the year’s central event. Putin’s speeches contained direct threats to the West. Columns of children in military uniforms recited learned phrases about “enemies.” The celebration budget grew mysteriously large.
After the full-scale invasion, 9 May transformed into a ritual justifying new aggression. No longer a day of remembrance, but a war fetish. A symbol of an aggressive empire using victory over Nazism as permission for its own fascism.
Past war justifies current war, and current war justifies the regime. Real WWII veterans have long since died and cannot object. So the transformation of 9 May into a ritual whitewashing Russia’s modern crimes became firmly established.
9 May has traveled a tragic path. From a day of remembrance, uncomfortable for the state, to a restrained pillar of Soviet legitimacy. Then again, from a day of remembrance to Putin’s pompous show. And finally, to a grotesque tool justifying new wars and genocide.
Modern “pobedobesie” is when war memory becomes an excuse for new war.
Ukraine’s choice: “never again,” not “we can do it again”
This transformation exposes a critical choice for all post-Soviet countries, especially Ukraine. Some still argue that “we shouldn’t let Russia monopolize Victory Day” – a position caught between genuine patriotism and lingering Soviet nostalgia. But this view misses a fundamental reality: the day cannot be rescued from Putin’s distortion.
9 May in its current form has nothing to do with defeating Nazism, honoring the fallen, or historical truth. It has become Russia’s ritualized absolution – a day when Russians collectively wash away responsibility for their new war while celebrating militarism. Every 9 May parade now serves as propaganda justifying the invasion of Ukraine.
Putin has deliberately made any neutral perception of this day impossible. While many European countries, including Ukraine, commemorate the end of World War II on 8 May (the day Nazi Germany surrendered to Western Allies), Russia celebrates on 9 May (when the surrender document was signed in Soviet-controlled territory).
This calendar difference has become symbolic of deeper divides in how the war is remembered.
Between 2015 and 2021, Ukraine maintained a compromise approach – 8 May as the Day of Remembrance and Reconciliation aligned with Europe, while 9 May remained as a gesture of respect for veterans. But Russia’s full-scale invasion has made 9 May fundamentally incompatible with remembrance and respect for victims. In 2023, Ukraine abandoned the Soviet-style 9 May celebrations.
The European tradition of solemn commemoration will ultimately prevail over Putin’s militaristic spectacle. As Ukraine continues its European path, it increasingly embraces 8 May as the day to honor all victims of World War II – a recognition that life ultimately triumphs over death, and remembrance over propaganda.
Our Russian WW2 myths annals
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Top-6 Soviet World War II myths used by Russia today
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Russian media operates by law of war, tapping into Great Patriotic War myth
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Control over the past: Russia’s archival policy and Second World War myths
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The Soviet foundations of Russia’s Great Patriotic War myth
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Soviet myths about World War II and their role in contemporary Russian propaganda
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Ukraine is a major battleground for understanding WWII: historian Serhii Plokhii
