This is a brief based on a new report by the Institute of Political Science and International Relations. It is written in a popular science style, with an emphasis on the key ideas, examples and conclusions of the original, but concisely and without excessive academic dryness.
The modern Russian Federation officially positions itself as the heir to a thousand-year-old statehood that “gathered historical lands”, “voluntarily united” peoples and “liberated” them from the foreign yoke. This narrative about a “common past” is not just a thesis from school history textbooks – it is a tool for preserving imperial integrity. However, for many peoples that are now part of the Russian Federation, this version of history seems unacceptable, humiliating and frankly falsified.
The author analyzes how official Russian historiography systematically denies or downplays the periods of independent statehood of “small” peoples, while alternative national narratives, on the contrary, see these periods as the “golden age” of their identity. This disagreement is not an academic dispute, but a potential source of political instability.
Official narrative vs. national versions
The Russian state interprets its expansion as a civilizational mission: for the steppe peoples, “liberation from the Mongol yoke”, for the Siberian peoples, “peaceful colonization of backward tribes”, for the Caucasian peoples, “protection from external threats” and “internal anarchy”. All these processes were supposedly voluntary or mutually beneficial, and the loss of one’s own statehood was a “positive event”, joining a “higher civilization”.
National versions assess the same thing differently: conquest, betrayal of alliance agreements, loss of sovereignty, centuries of Russification and repression. Even when resistance has been suppressed long ago, a “historical resentment” remains — the feeling that Moscow has ignored and humiliated their identity for centuries.
The deeper into the past the state tradition of the people goes, the sharper this contradiction. In the regions annexed in the second half of the 16th century (Volga region) or in the late 18th-mid 19th centuries (North Caucasus), the memory of their own roots of statehood is preserved more clearly than in the Finno-Ugric peoples of the European part of the Russian Federation, where assimilation has been going on for centuries.
Examples: from Volga Bulgaria to the Tuvan People’s Republic
The Chuvash claim the heritage of Volga Bulgaria (10th–13th centuries) — a powerful state with its own cities, trade, and diplomacy (including the peace treaty of 985 with Kievan Rus).
The Tatars see the Golden Horde and the Kazan Khanate (1438–1552) not as a “yoke,” but as a stable political order and cultural flourishing. The Day of Remembrance of those who died in 1552 during the storming of Kazan by Ivan the Terrible’s troops is one of the most important symbolic dates for the Tatars. However, any public events on its occasion have been prohibited in the last decade. The Tatar Institute of History named after Shigabutdin Marjani is trying to study the Golden Horde heritage, but is facing increasingly tight federal control.
Chechens and Ingush have a fundamentally different memory than the Russians of the Caucasian Wars of the 19th century, the deportation of 1944 (which the Chechens call genocide), and the wars of the 1990s. The official line emphasizes “anti-separatism,” “the fight against terrorism,” and “the brotherhood of peoples.” At the same time, even in Chechnya, which is loyal to Moscow, there is still respect for symbols of resistance (as evidenced by the decision to give the Russian Guard units the names of fighters against Russian expansion in the Caucasus, Sheikh Mansur and Baysangur Benoevsky).
Three North Caucasian peoples claim the heritage of the Alanian kingdom (9th–13th centuries) at once: Ossetians, Karachais, and Ingush. A reference to it is found in the official name of the republic of North Ossetia-Alania and in the name of the new capital of Ingushetia, the city of Magas.
The Kalmyks associate their statehood with the Dzungarian Khanate (17th–18th centuries). The “Great Campaign” of 1771, when tens of thousands of Kalmyk families fled Russia, is officially interpreted as “treason,” and in the collective memory of the Kalmyk people — as an act of protest against the betrayal and mischief of Moscow.
The Tuvans have the most recent and most concrete example of their own statehood: the Tuvan People’s Republic (1921–1944) was recognized by the USSR and had international relations. The annexation in 1944 took place with gross violations of both the legislation of the Tuvan People’s Republic and the constitution of the USSR. Although local historians are forced to speak of “voluntary entry,” they cannot help but mention this moment.
The Politics of Historical Memory as a Tool of Control
In the 2010s–2020s, Moscow intensified the unification of historical memory: censorship, banning “incorrect” memorials, replacing national holidays with all-Russian ones. In the national republics, commissions are being created to “harmonize historical narratives,” where local elites demonstratively agree with the center.
However, this agreement is tactical. Local leaders cannot completely erase the memory of resistance, deportations, or independence. The internal contradictions of the narrative are obvious. For example, how to reconcile the “feat of our grandfathers” in the Great Patriotic War with the mass deportations of Kalmyks, Chechens, and Ingush, who were accused of “collaboration” with the Nazis?
Conclusions: Why is this important for the future
The differences in the interpretation of history go far beyond “Moscow vs. Republic”. They create conflicts between the republics themselves (for example, over the legacy of Alania or Bulgaria). At the same time, the most striking examples of self-sufficient historical discourse have practical potential for political mobilization. After all, we are talking about events not of “the distant past,” but relatively recent ones: the annexation of Tuva (1944), the special position of Tatarstan in the early 1990s (the 1992 referendum and refusal to sign the Union Treaty), and the declaration of independence of Chechnya in 1991.
When the central government weakens (as happened in the late USSR), it is these historical “cracks” that will become the basis for demands for a revision of the federal model or even sovereignization.
Currently, national elites in the subjects of the federation are avoiding radical confrontation, but only claiming recognition of equality as co-founders of the federation, not “younger brothers.” In any case, historical memory remains one of the most powerful instruments of national self-determination, and Moscow is unable to completely suppress it.
The article is based on the materials of Andriy Starodub’s report “Historical Basis for the Sovereignty of the “Small” Peoples of the Russian Federation” (2025–2026).