Written by Matt Wickham
Female Russian propagandists serve a unique role in the Kremlin’s arsenal, specifically designed for emotional manipulation. They provide a softer contrast to the aggression and anger typically displayed by their male counterparts. These propagandists engage audiences with theatrical and intimate narratives centered around personal struggles, alleged injustices, and the power of a “woman’s scorn.”
However, this emotional facade is merely a calculated strategy. Female propagandists often promote sinister narratives that gain acceptance simply because they come from a smiling, seemingly gentle figure.
On-screen, these women project a form of “female power,” attempting to demonstrate that they can be as influential and respected as their male colleagues in Russia. Yet, they typically operate within a strict, traditional hierarchy, often interrupted, dismissed, or sidelined—unless they hold the status of figures like Maria Zakharova or Margarita Simonyan, fixtures of the Kremlin’s propaganda machine.
Who is Yulia Vityazeva?
One notable female propagandist is Yulia Vityazeva. If her name doesn’t ring a bell, her high-pitched, squeaky voice surely will.
Born in Odesa, Vityazeva fled to Russia in 2015 and quickly transformed from a “nobody” into a “somebody” in the Kremlin’s hybrid warfare apparatus. She gained traction writing for pro-Kremlin blogs in 2016, later joining RT in 2021, and then hosting her own show on SolovievLive, just in time for Russia’s full-scale invasion—a significant career boost.
Much like Diana Panchenko, who fled Ukraine to work for the enemy, Vityazeva exploits her identity as an Odesa native to position herself as the genuine voice for what Ukrainians want, especially those from Odesa. She promotes the narrative that Odesa, currently under supposed Ukrainian “occupation,” rightfully belongs to Russia and that it will be returned as a part of this war.
Reclaiming Odesa as a Symbol of Russian Heritage: The “Great Russian City”
One of Vityazeva’s tasks is to portray Odesa as intrinsically Russian, claiming that Ukraine has “stolen” the city’s heritage by dismantling monuments to Russian authors and leaders—symbols of Russia’s former imperial power.
Female Russian propagandists, such as Vityazeva, often appeal to Russian cultural memory by recalling Russian literature and the legacy of Russia in World War II. By emphasizing the “defacement” of Russian monuments in Odesa, she appeals to Russian audiences, who associate cultural memory with a glorified historic grandeur and a belief Odesa is a “Great Russian City”.
“I’m not sure if the people of Odesa are upset because the city is about to demolish monuments to those of whom we should and must be proud […] “I have the same feelings now as I did 35 years ago [referring to the fall of the Soviet Union], when I stood crying as a little girl, intuitively feeling that something very important in my life had been taken away from me,” says Vityazeva.
Evoking emotions about Russian literature and its so-called cultural history is often a track seen in interviews with Maria Zakharova, the Kremlin’s chief female propagandist for internal audiences. This cultural memory manipulation takes advantage of Russian reverence for their ancestors and heritage, creating a sense of shared grievance to rally support for current Russian objectives.
So unlike Ukrainian Diana Panchenko, whose role is to speak to, primarily, the Ukrainian audience, Vityazeva’s role as a female Ukrainian is to amplify the internal Russian audience’s hostility towards Ukrainians, escalating hatred and fuelling calls to march on Odesa in the name of “restoring” Russian heritage.
A Sick-Twisted Individual
Interestingly, while she portrays the removal of Russian insignia in Odesa as a catastrophic, soul-disturbing event—claiming she no longer has the strength to comment—ongoing missile strikes hitting civilians in the city seem to elicit no concern from her, only excitement.
For the first two years of the full-scale invasion, each time a large-scale missile attack on Ukrainian civilians was announced, Vityazeva would rush to Telegram to share a picture of borscht, stating, “I am receiving reports that there is borscht in Chernihiv, a double portion.”
The use of “borscht” seemingly symbolizes the grim aftermath of a missile attack. Although, thus far, Vityazeva has avoided clarifying what she means by “borscht” in specific contexts—plausible deniability. Known for its bright red color, chunks of potatoes and meat, and strands of boiled vegetables, one can infer that she employs this reference to create a grotesque image of the consequences of missile strikes on civilians, evoking notions of bloodshed and dismembered bodies, which she attempts to potray as something that Russians must rejoice over.
Vityazeva’s Fall: A “Useful Idiot” Oversteps Her Mark
A rapid rise under the protective “roof” of Vladimir Soloviev—essentially a branch of the Kremlin’s security services—can be as fleeting as it is swift.
For Vityazeva, after almost 3 years of fulfilling her role in the Russian propaganda apparatus, her firing from her program on Soloviev Live, reported on November 1, 2024, came after an uproar among Russian military bloggers. This emerged from her comments on Kursk Oblast and Putin’s so-called “cunning plan” that Zelensky supposedly fell for.
In her post, Vityazeva implied that Ukraine’s incursion into Kursk was not only anticipated but also sanctioned by the Russian leader. She called on Z-bloggers—those who consistently criticize her and the government—to finally acknowledge that Kursk has been a success.
“I wonder if any of those endlessly criticizing the Ministry of Defense, the General Staff, and Putin himself for ‘fighting the wrong way’ will muster the strength and courage to admit that the plan, which gave Zelensky the unique chance not just to get bogged down but to drown in the Kursk venture, was not only clever but, more importantly, effective and justified. Or am I just inserting uncomfortable truths into awkward phrases for those who always see everything as wrong?”
These comments led to multiple accusations from Z-bloggers against Vityazeva for “creating more sabotage than the Ukrainian SBU themselves,” aimed at fracturing Russian society, reducing support for the military, and discrediting the objectives of the Special Military Operation (SMO) led by Putin. While it is not unusual for Russian war correspondents to express dissatisfaction with the Kremlin or its propaganda outlets like SolovievLive, referring to the channel as a “coo-coo house” or “nuthouse,” Vityazeva’s remark was one step too far.
Given that Vityazeva is a relatively new addition to the Soloviev team and a woman, one might wonder if a man in her position would have faced the same fate. Her rapid dismissal highlights how female propagandists—especially those of Ukrainian origin—are used as tools of the state and easily replaced when they create the slightest inconvenience from the Kremlin.
