The Return of Stalinism in Russia
How Putin’s Russia is Reviving Stalin’s Legacy Through Monuments, Show Trials, and Managed Dissent
The high relief “People's gratitude to the leader and military leader” at Taganskaya subway station depicts a statue of Joseph Stalin. Sergei Bulkin / TASS
Russia is witnessing a striking ideological shift: the rehabilitation of Joseph Stalin. Under President Vladimir Putin, Stalin’s image has returned to public life through statues, commemorations, and narratives of national greatness that gloss over the terror of his rule. This revival—part of a broader authoritarian turn—has been reinforced by the reappearance of staged “show trials” and a carefully worded rebuke from the Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia (ROCOR).
Why Is This Happening?
State-Driven Nostalgia
Since 2000, the Kremlin has overseen a surge of Stalin monuments—now in the hundreds. Many are unveiled on Victory Day, tying Stalin’s wartime leadership to Russia’s present ambitions. In some regions, communities have funded them themselves, reflecting a nostalgia for an era perceived as disciplined, united, and powerful.
Neo-Stalinism as Policy
Political analysts call this neo-Stalinism: selective glorification of Stalin’s achievements, minimization of his crimes, and emulation of his centralized, authoritarian leadership style. For the Putin government, Stalin’s legacy offers a ready-made framework to justify military aggression, domestic crackdowns, and defiance toward the West.
Rewriting History
This rehabilitation reframes the Stalin era as a model for current governance—casting today’s wars and repression as patriotic continuations of a historic struggle.
The Return of Show Trials
The most chilling element of this shift is the revival of legal spectacles reminiscent of the 1930s.
In 2020, seven members of the anti-fascist group Network were sentenced to up to 18 years in prison after a military court convicted them of terrorism on dubious evidence. Human rights groups condemned the trial as political theater, with charges inflated and verdicts predetermined. Similar prosecutions target journalists, opposition activists, and NGO leaders.
The closure of historical and human rights organizations like Memorial, which documented Stalinist crimes, reinforces the trend. Silencing institutions that preserve historical truth makes it easier to normalize repression and erase the memory of the purges.
ROCOR’s Light Opposition
Against this backdrop, ROCOR’s Synod of Bishops issued a June 2025 statement expressing concern over the “renewal of 20th-century ideologies” in Russia. While avoiding direct criticism of Putin or Patriarch Kirill, it implicitly questioned the fusion of nationalism, historical manipulation, and religious sanction.
Writing in Orthodoxy in Dialogue, Giacomo Sanfilippo observed that the statement caused “no little excitement” among those seeking moral leadership from the Church. It echoed ROCOR’s origins: formed in 1927 after breaking with the Moscow Patriarchate over its accommodation to Soviet power, ROCOR has long resisted political subordination, particularly to regimes hostile to religious freedom.
Why It Matters
Loss of Historical Accountability
Celebrating Stalin while dismantling institutions that preserve historical truth erases the memory of state terror. The victims of the Gulag and purges risk being forgotten, replaced by a sanitized vision of national glory.
Normalization of Repression
Modern show trials echo the mechanics of Stalin’s purges: criminalizing dissent, using courts for political ends, and intimidating society. Even without the mass executions of the 1930s, the erosion of due process threatens civil society.
The Church’s Moral Role
ROCOR’s statement, though cautious, underscores religion’s potential to challenge authoritarian narratives. By recalling its own history of resistance to Soviet control, it signals that moral authority can stand apart from state power.
A Dangerous Turn
Russia’s return to Stalinism is neither accidental nor purely cultural. It is the product of deliberate state policy, reinforced by public sentiment and an international climate that rewards defiance of liberal norms. The embrace of Stalin as a national symbol, coupled with repressive legal practices, points toward a deepening authoritarianism.
In this environment, even modest acts of resistance—like ROCOR’s understated statement—carry symbolic weight. They remind us that conscience, whether expressed loudly or softly, can still cut through the noise of state propaganda.
If unchallenged, this ideological turn will harden into a political culture that normalizes repression, rewrites history, and binds national identity to the unchecked power of a leader. The lessons of the past—paid for in millions of lives—will vanish, replaced by a myth that serves those who rule, not those who remember.
