How America turns its back on Russian dissidents Exiled and abandoned
Foreign Policy’s recent deep dive into the plight of Russian dissidents in the United States paints a sobering picture of how Washington is handling those who dared to defy Vladimir Putin’s war machine. The story of Viktor Murikhanov, a Russian anti-war activist now trapped in America’s shifting immigration landscape, frames a broader narrative about principle, politics, and peril. What emerges is less a tale of sanctuary and more one of systemic indifference, bureaucratic blindness, and geopolitical trade-offs.
At the heart of the article lies a contradiction. Murikhanov—who protested against Moscow’s aggression, fled prosecution, and sought legal asylum in the U.S.—represents precisely the type of individual America once prided itself on protecting. Yet his case was rejected by an immigration judge who deemed the evidence “inconclusive,” leaving him and his family at risk of deportation to a country where imprisonment or forced conscription looms. His plight is emblematic of a larger pattern: Russian dissidents, instead of being hailed as allies in the struggle against Putin, are now ensnared by U.S. immigration policies increasingly shaped by President Donald Trump’s “America First” doctrine.
The article highlights the grim statistics. Roughly 1,000 Russians are currently detained in ICE facilities, while thousands more face uncertain futures. Deportations are already underway: in August, dozens of Russians were flown back, with at least one deserter arrested upon arrival. What’s more troubling is the revelation that U.S. authorities may be cooperating with Moscow in facilitating these deportations, sharing passenger lists with Russia’s security services. For a country that once positioned itself as the bastion of freedom against authoritarianism, such collaboration is deeply unsettling.
Foreign Policy situates these developments in a broader debate: why should Americans care about Russian dissidents when Ukrainian refugees—who number in the hundreds of thousands—are also in jeopardy of deportation? The answer, the article suggests, is that this should not be a zero-sum contest. Both Ukrainians fleeing war and Russians fleeing repression deserve protection. To deny the latter undermines not only humanitarian principles but also the strategic imperative of weakening Putin’s grip on power.
The piece also addresses thorny questions of credibility. Many Russian asylum seekers have faced scrutiny after earlier waves of applications were tainted by forged documents. This led to a tougher approach during the Biden years, which has hardened even further under Trump. Yet as activists like Leonid Volkov argue, there are proven methods to vet applicants effectively, often involving cooperation with émigré organizations. The dismantling of such mechanisms by the current administration suggests not logistical incapacity but political disinterest.
Perhaps the most chilling aspect of the article is its exploration of intent. The Trump administration, it argues, is less concerned with nuanced distinctions between genuine dissidents and opportunists than with a blanket policy of removal. This aligns neatly with a worldview that prioritizes domestic stockpiles, tight borders, and transactional deals—even if that means tacitly strengthening Putin’s hand. The image of Russian FSB agents greeting deportees in Cairo with U.S.-supplied passenger lists crystallizes this unsettling reality.
In the end, Foreign Policy’s reporting raises a stark warning: America is abandoning not only individuals like Murikhanov but also the moral high ground it once claimed in the global struggle for democracy. If supporting dissidents who oppose Moscow’s aggression is now deemed expendable, then the United States risks eroding both its credibility abroad and its values at home.
By Vugar Khalilov