Putin fortifies himself in Red Square surrounded by world leaders in an exhibition without an audience.

MoscowA day for the people but without the people. Vladimir Putin celebrated the 80th anniversary of the Soviet victory. During World War II, shielded among 27 world leaders in Moscow's Red Square, but with the streets empty of people. The Victory Day military parade served to show the world that he is not alone and that he has the strength to continue the war in Ukraine, even if, to do so, he had to seal off the city center and leave half the country without internet due to the threat of drones.

The layout of the official box perfectly summed up the image the Russian president wants to project. To his right, as guest of honor, Xi Jinping, with whom he has been commentating throughout the ceremony. The Chinese president, Putin's main ally, leads the opposition to the Atlantic powers in a bloc also represented on the podium by Brazil's Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, Venezuela's Nicolás Maduro, and Cuba's Miguel Díaz-Canel, as well as three Europeans: Serbia's Aleksandar Vucic Bosnian Serb minority leader Milorad Dodik –an international wanted group–, and a single rogue EU leader, Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico.

On the left, the Russian president had two centenarian veterans of the Second World War seated, theoretical protagonists of May 9th, although since the start of the invasion of Ukraine they have become a mere extra to glorify the new protagonists, the new veterans. It was no coincidence that behind Putin they placed the widow and son of a lieutenant colonel killed in combat in the Kursk region, as well as several military personnel accused of war crimes in Ukraine.

In his speech, the Russian leader insisted on the parallels between 1945 and 2025 when he stated that Russia "has been and will be an unbreakable barrier against Nazism, Russophobia, and anti-Semitism," and he expressed his conviction that society... "The entire country supports the participants of the Special Military Operation; justice is on our side," he said.

1,500 veterans of the current war marched among the more than 11,000 soldiers who walked through Red Square. Brigades from thirteen foreign countries, including China, were also seen. North Korean commanders who fought at Kursk, with whom Putin was especially affectionate at the end of the event.

The weapons display was the largest since 2022, but much more modest than in previous years due to the shortage of military equipment. The most numerous vehicles were the Soviet-made T-34 tanks, now practically obsolete. The long-awaited Oreshnik missile did not appear, but the Iskanders, the most lethal ones used in Ukraine, did. And as a major novelty, combat drones, a source of pride but also of anguish.

A parade without an audience

The fear that Zelensky would disrupt the 80th anniversary The Victory Day paralyzed the center of the Russian capital like never before. The Kremlin has cut off internet access throughout European Russia, that is, nearly 60% of the country. Authorities had recommended that Muscovites carry cash because the data terminals wouldn't work and had warned them not to get into elevators, as they risked being trapped and unable to call for help.

The police closed off the access roads to Red Square to prevent anyone from approaching the tanks. The sidewalks in the center were filled with security officers, but empty of citizens and silent, and residents of the streets where the tanks were passing were not allowed to look out their windows. In short, an exhibition without spectators, only for the Kremlin's guests and for television. The argument for closing off the center of Moscow was security, preventing sabotage, as if missiles and tanks needed to be protected from the public, and not the other way around.

A kilometer away, the first groups of citizens gathered, eager to reclaim Victory Day but with nowhere else to go, abandoned by a government that has excluded them from the celebrations. Some of them came from outside Moscow with photos of their ancestors, World War II veterans, to parade in a march that the authorities ended up banning.

Kimziale and his brothers, from Azerbaijan, wanted to pay tribute to their great-grandfather, who was wounded in combat. "Today is a day of joy and liberation, but with tears in our eyes," they explain in AHORA. For Katia, May 9th is "a day of pride for grandparents" who, she says, "fought to give us life." Past and present, however, are now inseparable: he's also here because his brother died on the Ukrainian front. "He protected us, but he stayed," he says.

Putin's speech has cut a swathe. Valentin, 87, dressed as a missile forces officer, echoes the Kremlin's official narrative: "God forbid this happens again, but we haven't defeated them, and now they're gathering in Ukraine." Others, even more radical, wave flags of the Wagner group, Yevgeny Prigokhin's mercenaries, like Aleksei, who has already served two army contracts as a volunteer: "Victory means at least strolling through Warsaw, Riga... I think we should take back the Baltic countries."

Mourning for lost relatives and ultranationalist euphoria, two emotions too intense for a holiday tailored to retail consumption and celebrated to further glorify a president who has been promising victory in Ukraine for four Victory Days.