This is not only about Ukraine

Yuliia Bond explains how Russian disinformation is about creating distrust

This may sound uncomfortable. I think one of the biggest misunderstandings in Britain when we talk about Russian disinformation is believing that this is mainly about Ukraine. From my perspective, it is not. Ukraine is often the testing ground. But the wider target is trust. Trust in institutions. Trust in democracy. Trust in one another. And eventually, trust in the idea that truth even matters.

I say this not as an academic, researcher, or political commentator. I say this as a Ukrainian. As somebody whose family still lives under attacks. As somebody whose mother still messages after drones land nearby as casually as people here discuss the weather. And also as somebody working every week with communities here in Wales.

Because one thing I have learned is this: disinformation does not stay online. It does not remain on Telegram channels, Twitter accounts, Facebook groups or fringe websites. It moves. It shapes attitudes. It changes public language. And eventually, it changes behaviour. That part matters because people often imagine disinformation as something dramatic. Something obviously false. Some bizarre conspiracy theory. Something foreign. Something abstract. But in reality, modern information warfare is often much quieter than that. It works slowly.  It exploits existing frustrations. It amplifies fear. It deepens resentment. And often, it gives struggling people somebody easier to blame. Not systems. Not political choices. Not inequality. But migrants. Refugees. Minorities. People who are already vulnerable.

This matters because I am increasingly seeing the consequences here in Wales in communities that I work in. In recent months, there have been many reported hate-related incidents involving Ukrainians in the Caerphilly area alone.

Just yesterday, another Ukrainian mother sent me screenshots after her school-age daughter received life threats alongside messages saying that it was “good” her country was being bombed and that she should “go back. A school child, receiving messages celebrating war!

Several adults have privately spoken about hostility, intimidation and discrimination, but many choose not to speak publicly. Some families have quietly left areas altogether following ongoing negative experiences. I want to be very careful here. I am not saying every act of hostility is directly caused by Russian disinformation. That would be too simplistic.

What I am saying is something more serious. Hostile narratives create environments where this kind of behaviour becomes easier to normalise. Language matters. Repeated narratives matter. The constant framing of refugees, migrants and displaced people as burdens, threats, or explanations for wider social problems matters. Because eventually these ideas stop sounding extreme. They become familiar. And familiar ideas become socially acceptable. Ukraine learned this very quickly.

One of the biggest misunderstandings is believing disinformation works by convincing everybody of one grand lie. Usually, it does not. Its objective is often something more effective. To make communities distrust one another. To make truth feel impossible to recognise.

Importantly, Russian disinformation is not only “Russian-language media”. This is another misunderstanding. People sometimes imagine propaganda as something obvious, arriving directly from Moscow with a Russian flag attached to it. That is not how it works. It adapts. It localises. It speaks the language of the audience. It mirrors existing frustrations. It enters debates about migration, housing, cost of living, identity, and national decline. It spreads in Welsh. English. German. French. Flemish. It appears through influencers, online ecosystems, selective narratives and emotional outrage.

This is why I think Britain still underestimates the seriousness of the challenge. Because many people still imagine democratic stability as something permanent. People from my part of the world do not assume that anymore. We know how quickly public language changes. How quickly resentment becomes political. How quickly conspiracy becomes normal. How quickly democratic norms become fragile. And I think we need to stop treating this conversation as abstract. Because this is not only about Ukraine.

This is about what kind of society Britain wants to become. One where people are divided against one another? Or one where frustration is addressed without scapegoating.

People’s concerns are real. People are struggling. Housing pressures are real. Economic insecurity is real. Communities feel abandoned. Public trust is declining. We should take these concerns seriously. But there is an enormous difference between addressing problems and weaponising frustration.

Too often, hostile narratives thrive precisely when societies stop making that distinction. Because a struggling family in Wales is not the enemy of a refugee family escaping war. A nurse here is not competing in suffering with a mother hiding in a basement in Kharkiv. Ordinary people should never be turned against one another for political convenience.

If we are serious about confronting this problem, then we need to act seriously. Not symbolically. Seriously. First: we need far stronger media literacy and disinformation awareness — in schools, colleges, workplaces and communities. Not once but continuously. Second: we need to stop treating hate incidents as isolated stories. Patterns matter. Community tensions matter. Early warning signs matter. Third: institutions need to respond faster. Schools, police, councils, safeguarding systems. Because silence creates space for harmful narratives to grow.

Fourth: we need stronger community cohesion work. Because people become much harder to radicalise when they actually know one another. And finally, we need to stop assuming Britain is immune. Ukraine learned many of these lessons through survival. My hope — genuinely — is that Britain learns them through foresight rather than crisis. Because disinformation is not only about changing minds. It is about changing norms. About changing what people consider acceptable. And by the time hostility becomes visible, the narrative has often already done its work.

Ukraine learned this through necessity. Britain still has time to learn it through wisdom.