Analyzing the trends of the past year and the beginning of this one, I can reasonably assume that in 2026 Russia will invest even more heavily in media soft power — especially in projects that automatically step over Ukrainians (that is, avoid the topic of the war) and instead focus on direct interaction between fictional “ordinary russians” and foreign characters.
I’m not claiming that specific works are already being directly funded by Russia — no, I’m not that conspiratorial.
The issue is rather that Russia is closely observing the consistent reactions of global audiences. If a likable russian character resonates with western viewers, many of them are quick to dismiss the voices of real ukrainians, who recognize this pattern because they themselves have witnessed it repeatedly over the years: influence built through a positive, fictional image of the “average russian,” intensified during periods of Russian military aggression abroad.
Typically, this character never speaks about the war and has no direct connection to the military. This reinforces a boundary between “ordinary Russians” and “Russian soldiers.” But for that boundary to function, narratives ensure that the former almost never intersect with the latter — or, at the very least, never discuss politics with them. This creates a comfortable blank space for foreign audiences, allowing them to project whatever political stance they want onto the fictional russian character.
The second stage of this media influence emerges once such a work gains popularity and ukrainians or other oppressed and negatively affected groups begin openly expressing discomfort and criticism. For many fans — especially fans of the character — this negatively affects their enjoyment. The war has already impacted the lives of foreigners in indirect ways, and when someone additionally refuses to let them “relax,” irritation sets in. It becomes even worse when that person is perceived as being connected to the source of the discomfort — even if they are a victim.
“Can’t they just calm down and enjoy a show about ordinary life, about the comforting stability of a fictional world, while everything is burning in reality?”
This creates a conflict of interests in which each side increasingly frustrates the other, pushing them further apart.
At the same time, sympathy naturally shifts toward those who don’t “ruin the mood” and who already have some connection to the work itself — most often people who share the same nationality or country as the character. After all, no one is eager to criticize their own positive representation in global media.
The end result is that a fictional character begins to influence real human relationships — in other words, politics: who receives support during a war, and who does not. Of course, neither the character nor the author can really be held responsible, because after all, it is just fiction. And the connection between an author and a specific country is also nearly impossible to prove unless there is explicit and direct evidence.
Because of this, I believe that Russia’s soft power strategy going forward will be less about making foreigners love Russia more — and more about making ukrainians feel unpleasant, inconvenient, and exhausting to them.
After all, who wants to help a party killer?
