A regime of Soviet origin that has been in power for more than 25 years is telling us about its rigid and hermetic nature. Vladimir Putin's quarter-century in the Kremlin is one of the longest authoritarian periods in Russian history, and it already surpasses Stalin's. That is why the bleak climate surrounding the Red Army parade –it is still called that– on May 9th in Red Square also spoke volumes: the images say a lot. And, beyond that, messages and comments about a Putin distanced from his usual residences, confined to the Kremlin and surrounded by security devices for fear of an attack. This had not happened since, almost three years ago, Wagner mercenaries, with Yevgeny Prigozhin at the forefront, staged an impromptu march towards Moscow. A logistical and political blunder that sought to impose conditions on Putin regarding the war in Ukraine.

This year's Victory Day military parade will be remembered for two circumstances. The first, Vladimir Putin's fear, which led him to turn his showcase of military power into a minimal and unprecedented spectacle: without tanks or missiles, practically without foreign guests and without Western media. The second, Volodymyr Zelenskyy's mockery, who, urged at the last minute by Donald Trump, desisted from threatening Red Square with his drones and signed a sarcastic decree to “allow” the Russian celebration this Saturday.

Russia and Ukraine have agreed to a three-day ceasefire, from this Saturday to Monday, coinciding with the commemoration of the Soviet victory over Nazi Germany in Moscow. The first to announce it was the President of the United States, Donald Trump, but shortly after, Volodymyr Zelensky and the Kremlin confirmed it. In a post on Truth Social, Trump said the truce would include a suspension "of all kinetic activity" and also an exchange of a thousand prisoners from each country. The announcement comes the day after the Russian Ministry of Defense declared a unilateral three-day truce, in this case, from Friday to Sunday. For his part, the Ukrainian president had proposed that the ceasefire begin on Wednesday.

It was the last thing Vladimir Putin wanted in the most important week of the year. A Ukrainian drone has impacted an emblematic luxury residential skyscraper just a few kilometers from the Kremlin. The incident, which has not caused casualties, takes place five days before the Victory Day military parade, the global showcase of Russian military might. For the first time in almost two decades, neither tanks nor missiles will be exhibited because security cannot be guaranteed, and Putin, in full psychosis over a possible attack by Kyiv, has even desperately proposed a truce of a few hours to ensure that Volodymyr Zelensky does not spoil the party.

A Russian influencer from Monaco has shaken up public debate in Moscow like it hasn't been shaken in a long time. In a video addressed to Vladimir Putin, Viktoriia Boniia, a former contestant on Dom-2, Russian Big Brother, warned the president that people and leaders "are afraid of him" and "don't tell him the truth." One of the reasons for her complaints was the growing internet blockages, the last straw for the patience of citizens, tired of four years of war and an increasingly worsening economic situation.

As in so many other aspects, also concerning the management of the family nucleus, Vladimir Putin bears little resemblance to most world leaders. Between transparency and overexposure, the Russian president opts for extreme hermeticism, which gives rise to mystery and rumors about extramarital affairs and illegitimate children. If the misfortunes of royalty are often the subject of the gossip press, in Russia investigative journalists are the ones who delve into the secrets of their head of state's most intimate circle. A tsar's life protected with the zeal of a spy.

Donald Trump is a millionaire, a real estate magnate, has direct interests in technology companies and... is Donald Trump. The President of the United States embodies in himself all the characteristics of the "enemy" that this weekend has been pointed out by the left gathered in Barcelona, with Pedro Sánchez as host, who has established himself as the reference of the international progressive movement. "When we socialists govern, states do not bow to elites, we put them in their place," he exclaimed to close the weekend summits before the 6,500 people who filled pavilion 8 of Fira de Barcelona. The commitment of the Spanish leader, but also of the heads of state and government who have met, is to "resist" the push of the far-right, but also to "build" together a new multilateral world. "We will twist the arm of those who believe themselves untouchable. Of the millionaires who exploit people and play with greed; of the speculators who play with people's savings and homes, and of the technologists who line their pockets at the expense of the health of democracies and the mental health of our youth," Sánchez ratified, intoning from the stage the "No to war" that the entire auditorium followed.

The territorial dispute clouds the peace negotiations over Ukraine, now suspended due to the conflict in the Middle East. Although the recognition of the occupied regions as Russian is important for Vladimir Putin, the Kremlin's ambitions involve the Belarusianization of Kyiv, that is, its political subordination. Moscow wants a meek and friendly neighbor that poses no threat in itself to Russia, nor as a vanguard of hypothetical Western aggression. However, the Russian president missed the opportunity to depose Volodymyr Zelensky at the start of the war, and after four years of daily bombings, the advent of a pro-Russian government in Ukraine seems like a fantasy or a bad joke.

Vladimir Putin has launched his spring offensive in Ukraine. Taking advantage of a dry March after a brutal winter, the Russian army has intensified attacks against the last major Ukrainian-controlled cities in Donbas, Sloviansk and Kramatorsk, with assault operations exceeding 600 attacks in four days and battalions of up to 500 soldiers. The objective is clear: to conquer what the military calls the Donetsk fortress belt before the diplomatic path, if it ever materializes, freezes the conflict map.

In Moscow, alarms have sounded. After sixteen years, Viktor Orbán's continuity at the helm of Hungary is in danger. Vladimir Putin fears losing his great ally in the European Union, a thorn in the side for Brussels' support of Kyiv and a stubborn buyer of repudiated Russian gas and oil. To try to prevent this, various media outlets have warned that the Kremlin has launched an operation to influence the elections of April 12. Actions that include from the disembarkation of spies in Budapest to disinformation campaigns on social media and, even, considering the staging of a false attack against the current prime minister to boost his popularity.

The EU is going through difficult times, with two powerful enemies closing in and trying to undermine its autonomy in every area. One is Vladimir Putin's Russia, which, since the invasion of Ukraine, has not stopped threatening the European space, even militarily. The other is Trump and his administration, who have not stopped showing contempt for the EU and threatening it economically and even militarily, despite being historical allies. And, as if that weren't enough, there are the internal enemies, the main one being, and this is not too surprising, Viktor Orbán, the Hungarian prime minister, who has not stopped throwing a wrench in the works of EU initiatives, especially those related to European support for Volodymyr Zelensky's Ukraine.

The film The Kremlin Magician, This French production, directed by Olivier Assayas with a screenplay by Emmanuel Carrère, represents what no one had dared to do before: to stage on screen the background and key figures of the first fifteen years of Putin's Russia. It depicts the transition to a police state, a synthesis of Soviet totalitarianism and oligarchic capitalism. I gather that screenwriter Emmanuel Carrère—son of historian Hélène Carrère de Encausse—has greatly irritated the Kremlin, but he has been skillful enough to guarantee the physical safety of some characters by changing their names.

It seems incredible that a year and a half after Donald Trump's return to the White House, Europeans still haven't reached a common position on how to deal with him. And this despite the fact that, before the war in the Middle East, there was the tariff crisis and the Greenland incident, where his arrogant and erratic behavior was already on full display. In the case of the attack on Iran, there was no common and coherent response until Trump made a decision that clearly goes against European security, such as lifting the embargo on Russian oil. Now, finally, it seems that this decision has united all European leaders (except for the usual suspects like Orbán).

"I don't even want to discuss this possibility," Vladimir Putin stated last June when a journalist asked him how he would react if Israel or the United States were to assassinate Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. Once the possibility became a reality, the Russian leader merely sent a telegram of condolence to the Iranian president, criticizing what he considers a "cynical violation of all norms of human morality and international law." He has repeated this message in the following days. The man who invaded Ukraine without warning four years ago and who bombs its cities daily is not so much concerned about the image he projects to the world—his inability to help an ally—as he is about the ghosts this death evokes, inevitably linked to the trauma of the execution of Libyan dictator Muammar Gaddafi. The assassination of Gaddafi in 2011 horrified and obsessed Putin, who began to fear a similar fate. The Kremlin leader perceived it as a betrayal by the United States and Europe, and this was one of the causes of the break with the West. However, fifteen years later, Russia is not in a position to raise its voice forcefully against the White House. The initial telegram, much shorter and more neutral than a televised statement, avoided pointing fingers at those responsible for Khamenei's death and made it clear that Moscow cannot and does not want to antagonize an omnipotent Donald Trump, who has broken Putin's isolation and is mediating to resolve the war in Ukraine. Since then, Putin has barely spoken about events in the Middle East.

Olivier Assayas (Paris, 1995), one of the great French directors of his generation, follows the rise and consolidation of power of Vladimir Putin in The Kremlin Magician, which premieres this Friday. However, the focus is not on the Russian leader but on the more discreet—yet equally murky—figure of Vadim Baranov, a fictional character inspired by Vladislav Surkov, ruthless spin doctor who designed Putin's trajectory and policy In the turbulent, almost explosive Russia of the 1990s. With a script written by Emmanuel Carrère based on the novel by Giuliano da Empoli and starring Paul Dano and Jude Law, The Kremlin Wizard It's a look behind the scenes of power and the seeds of fascism in the modern world.

Although Donald Trump has often been the focus of international public attention lately, we cannot forget Russian President Vladimir Putin, a far more shadowy figure than his American counterpart, since he governs a country without the democratic checks and balances of the United States. Russian prisons are full of dissidents, and every day there are reports of the closure of NGOs or organizations that, for whatever reason, are inconvenient for the regime. And all this is without mentioning the thousands of Russians who die daily on the Ukrainian front simply because of the imperial delusions of the Kremlin's occupant.

The voracity with which Assault operations are bleeding Russian troops dry in Ukraine This has forced the Kremlin to seek soldiers beyond its borders. In Africa, Russia leverages the influence it has cultivated for years to create recruitment networks that exploit the desperation of many young people yearning for a better life. For the first time, an investigation by the INPACT group—which was founded to monitor the atrocities committed by Wagner mercenaries—has quantified this phenomenon: it has documented nearly 1,500 cases of young Africans sent to the front lines, of whom 300, one in five, died.

In Russia, it is estimated that at least 1,200 women are murdered each year by their partners or ex-partners, but the figure could be much higher because the government conceals its statistics. Vladimir Putin's conservative revolution, the defense of traditional values, and the alliance with the Russian Orthodox Church have led to the decriminalization of gender-based violence. Now, in addition, pressure from the authorities has forced the closure of Nasiliu.net (No to Violence), the country's leading organization for women victims of abuse.

"Where are we in Anne Frank's diary?" The words of Pedro Rodríguez, professor of international relations at Complutense University, carry the weight of a pronouncement. A bombshell that forces us to reflect on Trump's threats in light of Hitler's crimes. The professor was responding to comments during a televised debate in which the panelists avoided using overly harsh labels to describe Donald Trump. They called him a capricious businessman who had pocketed $3 billion by 2025, or perhaps a narcissist leaning towards extremist positions. But no one dared to identify him as a fascist or, even worse, a Nazi. And Pedro Rodríguez, opening Anne Frank's diary, suddenly exposed the reluctance to speak plainly. These reservations are shared in the United States by figures who are, let's say, equidistant, such as journalist Robert D. Kaplan, but are by no means accepted by Nobel laureate in economics Paul Krugman or historian Robert Paxton, for whom Trump is a fascist reminiscent of Hitler.

"Out with the white woman, out with the white woman!" is the first thing I hear upon arriving at Tiéfo Amoro Square in the city of Bobo-Dioulasso, the epicenter of anti-French protests and demonstrations in support of the military junta that has ruled the country since the coup d'état of September 30, 2022. "IB! IB! IB! IB!" Ibrahim Traoré, the world's youngest president, has promised to restore peace to Burkina Faso, a West African country, by July 2024. An ambitious promise for a country that already has more than two million internally displaced people and 11,312 deaths since 2016, according to the organization Conglicte. in the hands of terrorist groups affiliated with Al Qaeda and the Islamic State that operate mainly in the northern and eastern regions of the country.