"Conversations about Important Things": Wartime Ideologisation of Russian Education
- Russian Democratic Society
- 3 days ago
- 8 min read
Updated: 2 days ago
Since the outbreak of Russia’s full-scale war against Ukraine, Russian society has undergone significant ideological and militarised transformation. This process has affected a wide range of social spheres, from the economy and politics to everyday life and education. It is often assumed that education should, to some extent, remain free from politics or politically neutral. In the United Kingdom, this principle is enshrined in the official guidance Political Impartiality in Schools, according to which schools must not promote partisan political views (Political Impartiality in Schools, 2022). Political issues may nevertheless be discussed, provided this is done in a balanced and impartial manner that presents differing viewpoints fairly.
Russian education law likewise explicitly prohibits teachers from “using educational activities for political campaigning, coercing pupils into adopting or rejecting political, religious, or other beliefs” (Federal Law of 29.12.2012 No. 273-FZ, 2012). However, under authoritarian conditions, the Russian education system has been unable to avoid transformation in line with political trends and the priorities of the ruling regime. As education is heavily dependent on the state both financially and through licensing, and as politics is inevitably part of social life, it influences the sphere of education in every country to some extent. There is, however, a fundamental distinction between studying human rights, political processes, and institutions, and the mobilisation of schools and universities to promote particular political actors and their ideas.
The ruling regime established in Russia provides a vivid example of how an education sector heavily dependent on the state can become engaged in pursuing governmental objectives alongside its other functions. For instance, in recent weeks the Russian opposition media sphere has devoted considerable attention to the encouragement of students to volunteer for the war against Ukraine. While this may be viewed as serving the immediate aim of replenishing the armed forces, the longer-term strategic processes are no less significant. Schools are not only sites of knowledge transmission; they also shape the worldview of new generations and promote the values and culture of a given society. In this respect, the programme Conversations about Important Things, introduced by the Russian Ministry of Education in 2022 shortly after the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, merits particular attention.
“Conversations about Important Things” (hereafter “CIT”) is a lesson programme now entering its fourth consecutive academic year, having effectively become a compulsory component of the national curriculum in schools and vocational education institutions. Officially, the programme aims to foster in pupils a sense of “Russian identity”, as well as patriotic duty, national pride, and loyalty to the state. These sessions, held every Monday morning as the first lesson of the day, have in practice become mandatory for students at all levels of education. The lesson content does not constitute a distinct academic subject. It covers a broad range of topics — from history and culture to contemporary political events — and is primarily value-oriented and educational in character. Consequently, there is no clear scholarly structure; rather, it is an “interdisciplinary simulacrum”, combining disparate themes in order to transmit state narratives. Furthermore, whereas lessons within Russia’s internationally recognised territory are focused on reinforcing loyalty to the state, in the occupied territories of Ukraine these sessions serve as a mechanism of enforced identity transformation, integrating children into the Russian ideological system.
The lessons may also be understood as a form of ritual for several reasons. First, they are conducted simultaneously in schools across the country. Secondly, they take place immediately after another ritual — the militarised ceremony of raising the Russian national flag and the regional flag of the school each Monday morning. Thirdly, almost every lesson is dedicated to a particular holiday, commemorative date, historical anniversary, or notable figure, thereby drawing pupils away from everyday concerns and connecting them to a collective memory and to the “great history of the nation”. Such ritualisation may significantly contribute to achieving the effects sought by the political regime.
The lessons can also be analysed from the perspective of the state’s media strategy. Schools throughout the country are expected to deliver lessons according to the same script and using the same video materials. Unlike television, which is gradually losing influence (despite often being state-controlled), or the internet, which — although restricted in Russia — nevertheless allows for a degree of diversity and user choice, the school environment functions as an intermediary for transmitting state-approved content and narratives directly to pupils.
Although the lessons are frequently presented as “Conversations”, and the scripts themselves ostensibly encourage discussion, the texts often contain questions designed to steer pupils towards conclusions deemed desirable by the state. The intended message is frequently embedded within the structure of the question itself. For example, the question “Why do you think it is important to study the history of your region?” leaves little room for doubting the value of such study.
When CIT was first introduced, the Russian Ministry of Education stated: “These lessons are aimed at enabling children to talk about what genuinely interests them” (Alexander Bugaev: “Conversations about Important Things” are aimed at getting children to talk about what they are really interested in, 2022). In practice, however, lesson topics are predetermined by the Ministry and the organisations subordinate to it that develop the CIT materials. Thematically, the lessons may be divided in several ways, for example into four principal categories.
The first is military-patriotic and geopolitical: lessons on the “reunification” with Crimea, the army, “Russia’s allies”, and numerous commemorative dates connected with the Second World War and victory over Germany. This strand serves to legitimise current foreign policy. The second is historical-biographical: the exploitation of figures such as Tsiolkovsky, Pushkin, Tchaikovsky, and other historical personalities in order to construct a narrative of the “exceptionalism” of Russian culture and Russian science. The third is value-based and normative: the promotion of “traditional family values”, concepts of “service to the Fatherland”, and collectivism. The fourth is technocratic: lessons on the nuclear industry, artificial intelligence, digital hygiene, space exploration, and related topics, intended to create an image of a modern, developing state. According to another classification, the programme combines, on the one hand, neutral and universal themes (school, family, professions, ecology, digital literacy) and, on the other, systematically embedded state-patriotic narratives: national symbols, “traditional values”, “heroes of the Fatherland”, military commemorative dates, Russia’s role in the world, state youth movements, loyalty to the state, and service to it.
As a result, the programme appears as a hybrid of civic education and ideological socialisation, in which everyday and “soft” topics function as a backdrop for the continual reinforcement of a prescribed understanding of history, identity, and political loyalty. Taken together, the programme demonstrates a transition from fragmented moral education to comprehensive ideological conditioning, in which an individual child’s success and happiness are tightly linked to their usefulness to the state apparatus. Some themes recur year after year, although certain thematic differences emerge between academic years.
Not only the themes themselves are noteworthy, but also the values identified by the authors of CIT as those supposedly being “cultivated” in each lesson. The initial period up to November 2022 may be described as “experimental” in this respect, as some values appeared which subsequently disappeared from the curriculum. On 9 November 2022, a presidential decree on “traditional Russian values” was issued, after which — particularly from 2023 onwards — the developers of CIT increasingly relied upon it in drafting lesson materials. The wording of the decree is often reproduced verbatim. Among the most frequently occurring concepts is “patriotism”, which appeared 45 times over the course of three full academic years. Forty-four lessons were devoted to “historical memory and continuity between generations”, demonstrating the programme’s heavy reliance on history. Other “values” are revealing when examined dynamically: despite certain overlaps in meaning between “love for the Motherland” (26 instances) and “service to the Fatherland” (25 instances), over time there has been a shift away from the abstract notion of “love” towards the more active notion of “service”.
In an attempt to promote narratives and opinions reflecting the position of the current authorities, both historical facts and even scientific accuracy are sacrificed. In particular, the achievements of scientists and inventors past and present, presented as Russian accomplishments, are often rather absurdly attributed to the contemporary Russian state and society: “And none of this would have been possible without Soviet aircraft designers such as Igor Sikorsky, who created heavy aircraft…” In reality, Sikorsky was never a “Soviet” aircraft designer. He began his career in the Russian Empire and emigrated to the United States in early 1919 following the October Revolution. It remains unclear whether classifying Sikorsky as a Soviet inventor is merely an error or a deliberate distortion. In either case, it allows the authors of CIT to incorporate him into the national pantheon and present all his achievements as part of Russia’s contribution to the global history of science and technology. Such an approach erases distinctions between the Russian Empire, the Soviet Union, and contemporary Russia, creating the impression of an unbroken succession of achievements in which one may take pride irrespective of historical context. In such cases, the word “Soviet” effectively becomes synonymous with “Russian”, stripped of its associations with communism, Leninism, or the Soviet political system.
Other curiosities include the scientific definitions proposed by the programme’s authors: “Radioisotopes are radioactive substances used in medicine”, or “…made from polymers. It sounds complicated, but in reality these are simply waste products left over from oil and gas extraction, only well cleaned and processed.” Such reductive and misleading formulations appear even in video materials intended for all year groups. A conceptual substitution thus takes place: rather than prioritising scientific precision, lesson developers introduce simplifications aligned with the broader narratives being promoted. Precise terminology may not always be pedagogically appropriate for every age group, yet the use of quasi-scientific language serves to reinforce the lesson’s ideological framing. At the same time, relatively complex concepts such as “sovereignty” and a “multipolar world” are introduced even in lessons designed for six-year-old first-year pupils.
A frequently raised question concerns the effectiveness of these lessons — namely, the extent to which the narratives being promoted influence the younger generation. Previous research on school indoctrination suggests that its strongest impact is on the youngest age groups, whereas adolescents increasingly begin to question what they are told in class. It is, however, rather difficult to measure sociologically the genuine attitudes of teachers, pupils, and parents towards CIT, since conditions of censorship and repression intensify both the reluctance to participate in surveys and the likelihood of so-called “socially desirable responses”, while also creating ethical challenges for research of this kind. Numerous reports in opposition media nevertheless indicate that resistance to school indoctrination does exist in Russia, and they also reveal the various forms this resistance may take. Examples include teachers using the time allocated to CIT for alternative activities; parents transferring children to home or family-based education (and in some cases even emigrating in order to avoid CIT altogether); and the development of a form of doublethink within families, whereby children are taught to conceal oppositional views in public while the family itself functions as a “safe haven”.
At the same time, teachers have been obliged to publish posts on schools’ official social media pages documenting CIT lessons, flag-raising ceremonies, and examples of “support” provided by schools to the Russian army. Public opinion exerted a degree of influence over the lesson content in the programme’s early stages. Because the lesson materials were publicly accessible online, the wider public was able to examine them directly. The launch of CIT attracted considerable attention, and as a result of public pressure, references to the so-called “Special Military Operation” — the term used by the Russian authorities for the war against Ukraine — were removed from the lesson of 12 September 2022. This pressure was possible for several reasons. Initially, several lessons were uploaded to the website in advance, allowing sufficient time for the materials to be reviewed and for instances of war glorification and other elements of Russian propaganda to be identified. Subsequently, however, lessons began to be published individually and much later in the week. In many cases, the materials for the forthcoming lesson only became fully available on Sunday, when submitting complaints or appeals was effectively impossible because of the non-working day. Over time, media interest in CIT declined and, regrettably, such lessons became increasingly normalised within society, creating the impression that Russians had come to accept them. The long-term consequences and overall effectiveness of CIT cannot yet be fully assessed. Nevertheless, the content of the lessons strongly suggests that, as explicitly stated in the programme guidelines, they are intended to “form a Russian identity” among pupils — or, more precisely, to cultivate a kind of “new person”: one lacking critical thinking skills, devoted to serving the state, and unconditionally loyal to it.
