Why The Dissident Right Is Pro-Russian

For the Left it is a feature, for the Right it is a bug

There is a widespread perception that the political Right in the West is the primary pro-Russian faction. This belief is especially common among many Ukrainians and well-meaning supporters of Ukraine, both in Western countries and the Russian-speaking world. While it is true that certain factions of the Right — particularly those categorized as the dissident Right — exhibit pro-Russian sentiments, this explanation only scratches the surface. The prevailing assumption is that this pro-Russian stance is a natural, inherent feature of right-wing ideology. However, such a view is overly simplistic and overlooks the complex societal and ideological dynamics that have unfolded in the West over recent decades.

These misunderstandings are evident in the way some Ukrainian and pro-Ukrainian Russian commentators analyze Western politics, particularly in the context of the United States. Since the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, it has become clear to me that while these commentators provide valuable insights on Eastern Europe, they often lack a nuanced understanding of Western sociopolitical currents. This is, of course, understandable. People tend to specialize in specific areas, and as a result, may not fully grasp the intricacies of other regions. A similar phenomenon is observed in the West, where many lack a deep knowledge of Russia and Eastern Europe, leaving them vulnerable to various Russian propaganda tropes about Ukraine.

What has often been overlooked by Ukrainian and Russian-speaking pro-Ukrainian commentators, as well as by Western liberals who support Ukraine, are the deeper forces driving the resurgence of nationalism in the West — and, more critically, the true reasons behind the pro-Russian inclinations of some segments of the nationalist and populist Right. Understanding these motivations is crucial, especially in light of potential political shifts in the West, such as the re-election of Donald Trump in the United States or the rise of right-wing parties across Western Europe.

Growing up in Turkey, I observed a peculiar phenomenon: two groups that seemed to be sworn enemies — Turkish nationalists and Islamists on one side and radical leftists and communists on the other — shared a surprising point of agreement. Despite their intense animosity and disagreements on almost every other issue, both sides were united in their deep-seated anti-American and anti-Western sentiments. Both camps denounced the West, often condemning it for its supposed “colonialism” and “imperialism”.

My university experience exemplified this paradox. The campus was a bastion of leftist ideology, mirroring the broader trend found in many Western academic institutions. Periodically, the local communists would stage protests, often to express solidarity with Palestine against Israel. On one such occasion, I remember leaving the university cafeteria with some friends when one of my batchmates, a devout Muslim, turned to me with genuine confusion. ‘I don’t understand these leftists,’ he said. ‘Since when did Palestinians become their Muslim brothers?’ Only later did I grasp the underlying logic: what unites the radical Right with the radical Left in Turkey — and, by extension, in much of the Third World — is a shared sense of anti-Western resentment.

The Left’s animosity toward the West is rooted in the very fabric of its ideology. The version of leftism prevalent in Turkey, and in other non-Western countries, is essentially an imported ideology from the West itself. Although Western leftism ostensibly claims to champion universal principles, at its core, it is specifically directed against the Western Civilization aiming to weaken or deconstruct it. When transplanted to a place like Turkey, this ideology finds a fertile ground because it naturally resonates with local grievances against the West.

In contrast, the radical Right’s anti-Western resentment stems from a morally particularist worldview that frames global dynamics as a competition — sometimes even a confrontation — between civilizations. For Turkish nationalists and Islamists, this perspective aligns perfectly with their belief that the West is their enemy. They see the West not only as a cultural and moral threat but also as a geopolitical rival that must be opposed. Thus, despite their ideological differences, both the radical Left and Right converge in their disdain for the West, albeit for very different reasons.

Years later, after moving to Europe, I noticed a similar phenomenon emerging within the dissident Right. Despite being sworn enemies of the radical Left, certain factions of the Western dissident Right find themselves in surprising agreement with the Left on at least one issue: their pro-Russian stance. This observation mirrored what I had previously witnessed in Turkey, but here it felt even more perplexing. In the Third World, it is somewhat understandable — though not justifiable — that both the political Left and Right share anti-Western sentiments. These societies often see themselves as victims of Western “colonialism”, which creates a unifying narrative of opposition. However, to see this anti-Western attitude among some segments of the political Right in the West, including white nationalists, is far more confounding.

Their argument hinges on the notion that white people, too, are victims of Western colonialism and the so-called “globalist institutions” that purportedly oppress them. They claim that the liberal world order targets white populations as much as it does people of color in the Third World. Yet this narrative involves a considerable degree of mental gymnastics. The dissident Right blames these “globalist institutions”, but the truth is that these very institutions were created by Western, predominantly white societies and represent Western interests. The diminishing influence of the West on the global stage is not due to these institutions attacking white people, but rather because white societies themselves are weakening.

What the dissident Right is attempting to do, in essence, is align itself with the grievances of the Third World by constructing a narrative that their struggles are the same. However, I have bad news for them: the Third World will never view them as allies. Non-Western societies oppose the United States and Western liberalism not because they are against liberal values per se, but because they see these values as emblematic of Western — and, by extension, white — civilization. Thus, they will never empathize with or join forces with white nationalists in a shared struggle.

This pro-Russian sentiment within the dissident Right has deeper psychological roots in the prevailing Western Zeitgeist, which abhors confrontation. In today’s society, assertive or confrontational attitudes, especially toward outsiders, are quickly labeled as “hate”. The current cultural climate emphasizes self-criticism and self-reflection over outward criticism, even when dealing with adversaries. The dissident Right, often accused of being “hateful”, seeks to counter this stigma. To shed this label, they engage in a strange form of overcompensation: since they are criticized for hostility toward some foreigners, they attempt to demonstrate affection for others, choosing Russia as the object of this misplaced admiration.

A recent example glaringly illustrates this point. In the lead-up to the 2024 European Parliament elections, the main candidate of Germany’s AfD, Maximilian Krah, released a striking campaign video. In it, he asserted that Turkey’s President Erdogan should not be seen as an enemy and urged Germans to stop harboring animosity toward him. Instead, Krah argued, the real focus should be on combating internal adversaries — namely, German leftists and Greens. According to him, these domestic political factions, not foreign figures like Erdogan, posed the true threat to Germany.

Krah’s message sent ripples through the media landscape, drawing sharp criticism from his opponents and mainstream commentators. Many interpreted his remarks simplistically, framing them as an authoritarian figure expressing solidarity with another autocrat. Yet, this reading missed the deeper motivation behind Krah’s rhetoric. His words were not about endorsing Erdogan per se but rather about subliminally aligning with the prevailing cultural climate — a climate that shuns criticism of outsiders and elevates the act of self-reproach.

By deflecting his criticism away from a foreign leader and onto internal targets, Krah was attempting a perverse kind of conformity. In essence, he sought to counter the stigma that comes with being a German nationalist perceived as hostile to foreigners. By publicly identifying leftist Germans and Greens as the “real enemies”, he aimed to distance himself from accusations of xenophobia and signal that he does not view outsiders, like Erdogan, as adversaries. It was an attempt to navigate a cultural landscape that values outward tolerance while castigating one’s own.

This also explains Donald Trump’s peculiar praise of figures like Vladimir Putin, Xi Jinping, and Kim Jong-un. By emphasizing his “good relations” with these leaders, Trump aimed to offset the mainstream liberal narrative that labeled him as hateful for his criticisms of immigrants. His rhetoric was less about genuine admiration and more about playing along the cultural expectation that confrontation equals hate.

In this light, the dissident Right's pro-Russian stance is not an inherent feature of their ideology but rather an aberration — an attempt to align, paradoxically, with the leftist-liberal Zeitgeist that stigmatizes confrontation. Their rhetoric reflects a desire to conform to a societal climate that prizes outward tolerance, even toward enemies, over any form of resolute opposition. Whereas for the radical Left their pro-Russian stance is a natural characteristic that logically follows from their worldview whose cornerstone is anti-western, even explicitly anti-white hatred. This is because Russia, since the Bolshevik Revolution, has been the vanguard of Third Worldist ressentiment against the West. Basically, for the Left being pro-Russian is a feature, for the dissident Right it is a bug.

Moreover, driven to desperation by an environment that brands any form of white racial self-awareness as “racism” — a label selectively applied, as similar expressions of pride are not forbidden to other racial groups — the dissident Right has struggled to get its message across. Extreme censorship and relentless vilification have left them cornered and unable to effectively communicate their worldview to a broader audience. As a result, a sense of frustration has pushed them toward a reactionary, almost defiant mode of existence. In this climate, their goal has often devolved into mere provocation, with the movement’s raison d'être becoming a relentless pursuit of “owning the libs”. This mindset has led them to reflexively oppose anything endorsed by the establishment media or mainstream institutions, even when those positions are reasonable or objectively true. If the liberal media declared that 1 + 1 = 2, some members of the dissident Right would instinctively reject the statement, simply because it was made by a distrusted source that, in their eyes, “always lies”. And, most crucially, Russia masterfully tapped into this environment of discontent in the dissident Right, promoting its own narratives to the unsuspecting crowd driven to desperation.

Ironically, the liberal establishment bears significant responsibility for this development. Cloistered within their own ideological echo chambers, liberals have often failed to engage in any genuine self-reflection. They live ensconced in a bubble, propped up by unwavering dogmas and a sense of moral superiority that alienates those who do not conform to their worldview. This condescension and lack of openness have only fueled the backlash. The dissident Right, in response, has built its own bubble — a parallel media ecosystem that thrives on alternative platforms and social networks like Twitter/X. This counter-bubble has given rise to narratives as absurd as some of those propagated by the mainstream media, turning the information landscape into a polarized battleground of competing realities.

Ultimately, this cyclical dynamic of mutual disdain and dogma-driven isolation has exacerbated societal divisions. The dissident Right, reacting to the liberal hegemony and its perceived injustices, has entrenched itself in positions that are sometimes more about opposition than objective truth. Meanwhile, the liberal establishment, secure in its dominance, remained blind to the role it plays in perpetuating this polarization.

The aggressive arrogance and hysteria of the liberal establishment reached its zenith in the 2010s, amplified during Donald Trump’s first term. This period saw the rise of the woke agenda, culminating in moments of essentially anti-white upheaval, exemplified by Antifa and Black Lives Matter (BLM) riots, which were enthusiastically supported by the mainstream media. Especially the BLM riots in the summer of 2020 with their explicitly anti-white rhetoric serve as a stark illustration. Simultaneously, the establishment’s response to the Covid-19 pandemic further strained public trust. Lockdowns, mask mandates, and other stringent measures were imposed, fueled by a neurotic fear of a virus that, while serious, was not vastly more dangerous than the flu — albeit with some unique symptoms.

Critics of these measures, including respected scientists, were met with vitriolic demonization and ridicule. Anyone questioning the rationale behind lockdowns or the efficacy of mask mandates was lumped into a single category of “conspiracy theorists”. The consequences of these draconian measures became evident in the years that followed. Between 2020 and 2022, excess deaths were often attributed more to the disruptions caused by the measures than to the virus itself — such as delayed diagnoses and treatments for cancer and other illnesses. The psychological toll was particularly severe among the youth, who endured school closures, restricted access to playgrounds, and enforced mask-wearing, despite not being at significant risk from Covid. Depression rates soared, and even instances of youth suicide increased. Yet, the establishment remained obstinate, continuing to vilify those who opposed these measures.

Furthermore, as Covid vaccines became widely available in 2021, the climate of hysteria and demonization reached new heights. In Germany, for instance, a kind of psychological terror unfolded, with government officials resorting to insults and even issuing thinly veiled threats against those who chose not to get vaccinated. Similar patterns emerged in the United States and other countries, where skeptics of the large-scale vaccination program who pointed to potential side effects or questioned the reasonableness of vaccinating non-risk groups were harshly vilified, further deepening societal divisions.

This context is essential for understanding the roots of the dissident Right’s anti-Ukrainian and pro-Russian stance. Years of institutional overreach and blatant misinformation had left a lasting impression. By the time Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the trauma and mistrust bred during the earlier years were still fresh. The mainstream media, which had so often been wrong or misleading in the past, suddenly got it right this time, supporting Ukraine in the face of clear and undeniable Russian aggression. The situation was as self-evident as 1 + 1 = 2. Yet, the polarization that had solidified during the pandemic era led many in the alternative media to take the opposite position — simply because, in their worldview, “the mainstream media always lies”.

For the average American or German with little understanding of Russia, Ukraine, or the history of the region, this reflexive distrust became a decisive factor. Frustrated by years of perceived deception and overreach, many instinctively gravitated toward alternative sources, which were now espousing pro-Russian narratives. A popular meme at the time captured this sentiment: “The ones reporting about Ukraine now are the same ones who were reporting about Covid before”. Though this reasoning is simplistic and flawed, it reflects a deeply ingrained psychological response. Human beings often react reflexively, making decisions based on entrenched patterns of distrust rather than a nuanced analysis of each new situation.

Moreover, this tendency to conform to the cultural pattern of criticizing one’s own while showing leniency toward the “other” is evident here once again. Even though it is undeniable that Ukrainians are being killed and suffering at the hands of Russians, the dissident Right avoids placing the blame squarely on Russia — the clear perpetrator of these atrocities. Instead, in a bizarre twist of logic, they engage in mental gymnastics to shift the responsibility onto the United States or the West in general. Their argument goes that the West provoked Russia into attacking, and thus the West bears the primary blame for Ukraine’s suffering. This contorted reasoning again stems from the cultural climate in the West that is averse to criticizing outsiders; attributing fault to Russia would mean condemning a foreign adversary, something frowned upon in the current climate of “tolerance”. Therefore, they redirect their outrage inward, blaming Western institutions for crimes that are, in reality, committed by the Russians.

Ultimately, the root issue lies in the pervasive influence of self-flagellating leftist ideology within Western society. It is this ideological pressure that compels certain factions of the political Right to adopt pro-Russian positions — not because of any inherent or natural affinity between Western nationalism and Russia, but as a byproduct of trying to conform to the dominant cultural ethos. The dissident Right’s sympathy for Russia is, in reality, a secondary and distorted consequence — a misguided attempt to align with the leftist-liberal mindset that discourages criticism of outsiders while elevating self-critique to a moral virtue.