The information war between Ukraine and Russia has undergone a significant transformation over the past 12 years. Initially, Russian disinformation tactics, such as the infamous “crucified boy” story in 2014, were highly effective in penetrating Ukrainian society. This staged narrative, claiming Ukrainian troops had brutally murdered a child, spread rapidly through both Russian and Ukrainian media before being debunked. At that time, Ukrainian society lacked the critical reflex to immediately reject such blatant falsehoods, making it vulnerable to Russian propaganda. However, as recounted by Andrii Yusov, Representative for Strategic Communications of the Defense Intelligence of Ukraine, at the Lviv Media Forum in 2026, this landscape has drastically changed. The Russian “fake machine,” once a formidable weapon, has largely become ineffective in influencing Ukrainians. It’s not that Ukraine “defeated” it in a conventional sense, but rather that the machine itself stopped working as intended for that audience. Russia discovered new uses for its propaganda apparatus, shifting its focus and tactics.
Yusov highlighted that Russia’s “fake machine” was initially designed for hybrid aggression, then for full-scale war, arriving with not just bombs and bullets, but also networks of agents and significant budgets for information operations. In the early days of the conflict, this machine overwhelmed Ukraine’s information space, exploiting a society with lower critical resilience. False narratives could easily take root and spread. However, this has dramatically narrowed. Ukrainian society has developed a robust “critical reflex,” making it far more difficult for Russian fakes to penetrate or gain traction. Much of what Russia produces now either doesn’t reach people or, if it does, is simply dismissed as “obvious nonsense.” Yusov emphasized that the penetration of Russian fakes into Ukrainian and European information spaces is significantly smaller than it was in 2014. Even Russian intelligence understands that Ukrainians and Europeans will no longer consume this propaganda. Instead, Russia’s disinformation efforts are increasingly aimed inward, at its own domestic audience, serving as a continuation of what Yusov calls the “North Korea-ization” of Russia’s future. The objective is to sustain the Russian population’s endurance for the ongoing war, their willingness to suffer, and to support Putin’s agenda.
The chilling revival of the “crucified boy” theme, now updated with characters from Soviet-era children’s films and new, fabricated details, exemplifies this shift. These narratives are no longer crafted to convince Ukrainians or the international community but to manipulate and entertain the Russian public. For this audience, these stories are like a television series, constantly adding new seasons to keep them engaged and supportive of the war effort. Yusov explained that a significant portion of current Russian propaganda is not an attempt to persuade Ukraine of anything. It’s “maintenance work” on the Russian public’s tolerance for the war, a constant effort to justify the sacrifices and hardships. This change in strategy indicates Russia’s recognition of the diminishing returns of its propaganda on external audiences, particularly in Ukraine.
As fabricating original content that resonates within Ukrainian society became increasingly difficult for Russia, their methods evolved. Instead of inventing entirely new crises, Russia now focuses on “inflating” existing issues. Yusov provided the example of a supposed migration crisis, which dominated social media at the time of the forum. While Ukraine has no actual migrant problem—with very low official migration figures—a coordinated wave of anti-migrant posts, exceeding 21,600 in just ten days, flooded Ukrainian social media. These posts, often amplified with anxiety-inducing images, aimed to create a perception of chaos where none existed. This tactic involves taking a genuine, albeit minor, societal concern, exaggerating it, and attaching fabricated stories to it. Yusov stressed the danger of this approach, noting that such sensitive subjects can originate within Ukrainian society itself, making it difficult to discern who is truly acting in whose interest. The primary goals are to destabilize Ukraine internally and, if that fails, to discredit Ukrainian leadership and society in the eyes of Western partners, thereby weakening coalition support and slowing aid. This migration theme, Yusov pointed out, has long been a tool in Russia’s hybrid warfare against the European Union.
Despite Russia’s initial advantage, Ukraine has effectively held the information line, primarily because of the nature of the war itself: a just defensive war for independence. This existential struggle has galvanized Ukrainian society, drawing in a vast array of people—the creative class, a new generation, civil society, and international partners—to contribute to the security and defense effort. This collective engagement fuels open-source analysis, information campaigns, and cybersecurity tool development. Ukraine, despite fewer resources, has mounted effective resistance against a larger but more outdated Russian apparatus. Yusov also highlighted Ukraine’s unique ability to metabolize frightening aggression with “harsh, painful humor,” a trait long lost in Russia where even self-deprecating humor can lead to imprisonment. This cultural difference makes a whole class of Russian operations harder to execute. Concrete successes include projects like “I Want to Live,” which provides Russian soldiers a pathway to surrender, receiving tens of millions of visits, mostly from within Russia. These efforts, though managed by relatively small teams, demonstrate Ukraine’s ingenuity and resilience. However, Yusov cautioned against complacency, emphasizing that Russian operations are continuous, constantly probing for weakness. They seek the “thin spot” where society’s resilience is weakest, using sensitive subjects like prisoners of war to destabilize Ukraine or rehabilitate Russia abroad.
Ultimately, the most telling measure of this shift is not Russia’s behavior, but Ukraine’s changed expectations. In 2022, many Ukrainians genuinely believed that if Russians knew the truth, they would stop the war. By 2026, that belief has vanished. The focus is no longer on informing Russians but on influencing the small segment of the world that actually makes decisions and maintaining demonstrably greater credibility than the adversary. Ukraine openly states its desire for Russia to become a functioning democracy with an independent judiciary, the rule of law, and independent media. Yusov believes that any protest against the current Russian regime, whether internal or external, is beneficial, with armed struggle being the most effective form. This is why Russian volunteers fighting for Ukraine represent a powerful symbol of a different future for their country. The overarching narrative is one of an information war that has turned inside out over 12 years: Russia’s propaganda aimed at Ukraine has thinned as Ukrainian society learned to reject it, while its propaganda aimed at its own population has thickened, needing to manufacture endurance daily. The initial conviction that a single message could end the war has given way to a slower, less immediately satisfying reality: the long-term commitment to being the more credible society throughout the duration of the conflict.