More than 12 years into Russia’s war against Ukraine, one might assume the dangers of Russian cultural policy abroad no longer require explanation.
Yet reality suggests otherwise.
Russian culture and its representatives remain embedded in the everyday cultural life of European countries while continuing to enjoy success in the so-called Global South.
One could argue that the world has condemned Russia for its actions, sanctioned Russian artists, and even opened criminal investigations against some of its most prominent cultural figures. That is true. But the deeper problem is that much of the world still clings to the belief that “culture and science exist outside politics,” allowing Russia to continue operating by its own rules.
In 2022, in response to Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the EU imposed sanctions on several key institutions of Russian cultural diplomacy, including Rossotrudnichestvo, the Russian House network, the Russkiy Mir Foundation, and the Gorchakov Public Diplomacy Fund.
Nearly four years later, despite restrictions and public criticism, these structures continue functioning and openly promote Kremlin narratives among European audiences while contributing to political destabilization.
The Kremlin had no intention of surrendering this sphere of influence and quickly identified loopholes that still allow these activities to continue.
For Moscow, Europe’s 2022 response came as a painful surprise. In Russia’s strategic worldview, the notion that “culture is outside politics” had long been central to shaping European perceptions of the war, Ukraine, and Russia itself.
The Kremlin had no intention of surrendering this sphere of influence and quickly identified loopholes that still allow these activities to continue.
One such mechanism is diplomatic protection for the heads of Russian cultural centers, many of whom are formally affiliated with Russian diplomatic missions or the Russian foreign ministry. A notable example emerged in 2023 around the Russian House in Berlin and its director, Pavel Izvolsky.
Financing has become another workaround. After bank accounts were frozen, many centers shifted to cash payments or relied on “charitable donations” and “gifts from patrons,” making financial flows significantly harder to trace and block.
The uneven enforcement of sanctions across EU member states also plays a major role. Responsibility lies with individual governments, and approaches vary dramatically.
Romania, Poland, Slovenia, and Slovakia shut down Russian cultural centers in 2022. Moldova followed in 2025, describing them as a “direct threat to national security.”
Germany, France, and the Czech Republic, despite publicly supporting Ukraine, did not close the centers.
The reasons differ: Previous political and economic agreements with Moscow, lingering historical guilt toward Russians after World War II, the enduring appeal of the “culture outside politics” concept, weak legal mechanisms, or a traditional reluctance to escalate tensions.
Still, sanctions and public pressure have had some effect.
This is evident in the transformation of the public rhetoric of Russian cultural centers. Before 2022, they openly promoted the ideology of the “Russian world” and advocated for war against Ukraine. Today, they focus instead on “traditional values,” Russian language and culture, and the memory of the “Great Patriotic War.”
Beyond the familiar Victory Day spectacles, the Russian House network and Rossotrudnichestvo organize exhibitions of Russian cultural heritage in Paris, displays dedicated to “Russia’s resistance to Nazism” in Berlin, Budapest, Athens, and Madrid, as well as lectures in Barcelona, Belgrade, and Rome aimed at “rehabilitating” figures such as Ivan the Terrible, Peter the Great, Catherine II, and Alexander Nevsky.
The appropriation of Ukrainian cultural figures also remains widespread, particularly in the cases of Kazimir Malevich, Boris Pasternak, and Alexandra Exter.
European sanctions did not stop Russia’s cultural expansion – they merely changed its geography.
The messaging promoted by these centers typically emphasizes either “brotherly ties” between countries – as seen in the Czech Republic, Romania, and Hungary – or Russia’s supposedly decisive influence on the cultural development of countries such as Spain, France, Germany, and Italy.
In some cases, activities extend far beyond cultural diplomacy. In 2024, Serbian accordionist Alex Mirkovich visited occupied Crimea with support from the Russian House in Belgrade. In Rome, lectures promoted the “necessity of a just multipolar world order” alongside Russian narratives about the “reunification” of occupied Ukrainian territories with Russia.
European sanctions did not stop Russia’s cultural expansion – they merely changed its geography.
Since 2022, Russia has actively expanded its presence in regions with fewer institutional barriers, stronger anti-Western sentiment, and traditions of political neutrality. Moscow is also seeking political support and votes in international institutions across the Global South, Africa, and Asia.
The numbers are telling. Before 2022, Rossotrudnichestvo operated seven centers in Africa, most of which were inherited from the Soviet era. By 2025, that number had reached 22, with another 14 in development. Latin America, Asia, and the Middle East each host 12 Russian cultural centers.
In these regions, Russia acts far more openly and aggressively than in Europe. Lectures on Russian culture in Tunis or Mar del Plata, language clubs in Damascus, film screenings in Caracas, theater productions in Santiago, concerts in Amman, Benghazi, and Tashkent, and exhibitions dedicated to the “Great Patriotic War” represent only the visible layer of a much broader strategy.
Through these centers, Russia systematically promotes political narratives such as: “The West is a colonizer, Russia is a liberator,” “Russia is a partner in the struggle for sovereignty,” and “the choice between the West and Russia is a choice between humiliation and dignity.”
The Kremlin spent decades convincing the world that culture exists outside politics.
Behind this rhetoric lie youth recruitment efforts, military and economic agreements, and access to natural resources.
The Gorchakov Fund, for example, runs long-term initiatives such as the “Asian Dialogue” and the “Central Asia School,” alongside professional programs for electricians, medical workers, STEM specialists, and nuclear industry professionals in African countries.
Particularly notable are regular lectures involving representatives of the Russian Orthodox Church and the Russian defense ministry in Bangui and Ramallah, where narratives about Russian “heroism” and “superiority” are promoted.
Humanitarian initiatives and infrastructure projects form another pillar of influence, including social development projects in Dar es Salaam, Hanoi, and Beirut.
Two recent trends are especially revealing when examining the future of Russian cultural diplomacy.
The first is the “Russian Seasons” program, launched in Brazil in 2024, continued in Bahrain and Oman in 2025, and scheduled for Thailand in 2026. Tours by Russian theaters, museum exhibitions, and cultural exchange programs form part of a broader strategy to normalize the concept of the “Russian world.”
The second is Russia’s deepening cultural cooperation with authoritarian regimes. This includes the Year of Russian Culture in China in 2024-25, agreements with North Korea on expanded cultural exchanges for 2025-27, and a 2025 memorandum signed between the so-called “Russian State Art Gallery” and museums in Mexico and Brazil.
Instead of a conclusion
The Kremlin spent decades convincing the world that culture exists outside politics. But this was never a philosophical principle. It was a strategy of influence.
Today, Russian Houses operate in Bangui and Bamako, Russian Seasons tour from Rio de Janeiro to Bangkok, and museums in Mexico City sign agreements with institutions linked to occupied Crimea – often without headlines and without consequences.
All of this unfolds alongside a full-scale war now entering its fifth year.
The question is no longer whether this poses a threat. The question is how much more must happen – across Europe, Africa, Asia, and the Americas – before the phrase “culture is outside politics” stops serving as a convenient answer to uncomfortable questions.
The views expressed in this opinion article are the author’s and not necessarily those of Kyiv Post.