Panic, bribes, ditched cars and a dash on foot: Portraits of flight from Russia

DARIALI, Georgia – They are bus drivers, programmers, photographers, bankers. They have driven for hours, bribed their way through many police checkpoints – spending a month’s wages in some cases – and then waited at the border, most of them for days, in a traffic jam that stretched for miles.

Many grabbed their passports, abandoned their cars and crossed the frontier on foot, fearing that Russia would slam shut one of the last, precious routes to leave the country. The Kremlin dispatched teams to border crossings to weed out draft-eligible men and hand them conscription notices, and rumours spread on social media that it would seal the border.

Most of those who left had no idea when they would return home, if ever.

President Vladimir Putin last week ordered a draft of civilians to reinforce the army that has suffered tens of thousands of casualties in the war he launched against Ukraine. Since then, at least 200,000 Russians, mostly young men, have fled, squeezing through the few crossings still open.

More than one-quarter of them cut through the thin gorge separating Russia from Georgia at their only official border crossing – about 10,000 a day.

Photographer Ksenia Ivanova spent two days near that spot collecting the stories of fleeing Russians and taking their portraits. Many offered only their first names, fearing repercussions should they ever return home. They spoke of divided families, the futility of protesting in Russia and the fear of dying in a war they did not support.

“Every Russian family has someone who supports the war, and someone who’s against it,” said Vladimir, 31, a geologist from St. Petersburg. His grandmother adores Mr Putin. His mother hates Mr Putin.

Vladimir thinks the Russian president is a madman who isn’t bluffing about using nuclear weapons – one reason he waited in line for 13 hours to cross the border.

“Every Russian family has someone who supports the war, and someone who’s against it,” he said. “It’s just some families fell apart because of it, and some have not.” He went to one anti-war protest, but quickly realised both its danger and its futility, he said.

“There’s probably 10 times more police than protesters,” he said. “It’s all pointless.”

Artyom, 28, paid more than US$1,600 in bribes, including to a police officer. He has grim memories of his year of required service in the army.

“Here you are, sitting in a trench, hugging a gun,” he said. “During a night like that you understand a lot, you realise a lot. After serving in the army, I decided for myself that I am a pacifist, and that war is bad. It’s terrible.”

After Mr Putin’s call-up, a draft notice was issued for Artyom, a programmer, but he had other ideas. He, his wife and another couple drove south from Moscow.

Near the village of Urukh, about two hours from the border, they came to their first police checkpoint. There, an officer asked if Artyom wanted to be drafted.