Why the LGBT Community in Russia and the Post-Soviet Space Is Doomed to Disappear

The opinions expressed in this article reflect the author's views and do not necessarily reflect the position of the Doberman Media editorial board.

Back in 1969 in New York, in the Stonewall Inn bar, a police raid on the gay community escalated into riots, which became the catalyst for the global LGBT movement. The crowd, tired of constant persecution, took to the streets, throwing bottles and chanting slogans. These events, known as the Stonewall riots, marked the beginning of an era in which gay activists came together to fight for rights, visibility and equality. But in Russia and the post-Soviet space, such a story is impossible. Here, the LGBT community does not just face external threats, it destroys itself from within, through fragmentation, toxicity, and lack of solidarity. As of 2025, the crackdown has peaked, with Russian courts issuing more than 100 convictions on charges of participating in the "international LGBT movement" as an extremist organization, leading to arrests, raids, and club closures. In this article, I will try to figure out why a repetition of Stonewall here is pure fantasy, and why a full-fledged community will never emerge, including an analysis of emigrants who, even in Europe, continue to undermine each other.

Historical Context: From Decriminalization to New Repression

After the collapse of the USSR in 1993, homosexuality was decriminalized in Russia, a move that seemed like progress. The first human rights organizations, clubs and meetings for queer people appeared. In other post-Soviet countries, such as Ukraine, Belarus or Kazakhstan, the situation developed in a similar way: decriminalization, but with the preservation of social taboos. However, this "progress" was illusory. The Soviet legacy, when homosexuality was considered a "disease" to be treated, has left a deep mark.

Since 2013, with the adoption of the law on "propaganda of non-traditional sexual relations", the situation has worsened. As we know, in 2023, the Supreme Court of Russia recognized the "international LGBT movement" as an extremist organization, which led to raids on gay clubs, arrests and a ban on any public activity. In 2025, the repression continues: almost half of LGBT people in Russia have faced violence or threats in 2024, and the focus on "traditional values" in wartime intensifies persecution. In the post-Soviet space, there are similar trends: in Belarus, LGBT activism is suppressed by the authoritarian regime, in Kazakhstan by social norms, and in Russia, repression intensified when homophobia became part of the state ideology of "traditional values." The state positions LGBT people as a "Western threat", justifying the escalation of the conflict with the West.

But external factors are only half the problem. Stonewall happened because there was a foundation for solidarity in the United States of the 1960s: bars like Stonewall were places where people gathered, despite the risks, and stood together in a moment of crisis. In Russia, however, raids on clubs—such as those in April 2025, when the death in prison of activist Andrei Kotov underscored a wave of repression—do not lead to riots, but only to fear and flight. Why? Because there is no unity within the community. He simply didn’t have time to hide; he was unlucky.

Internal Divisions: When Your Own Are Worse Than Your Enemies

One of the key reasons why the LGBT community in Russia and the post-Soviet space is doomed is internal toxicity. Instead of support, ideas or initiatives that do not coincide with someone's personal view are not met with constructive criticism, but with attempts to "shit" everything in the bud.

This manifests itself in social networks, chat rooms and rare meetings: any activist who proposes something new - whether it is an online campaign or just a discussion - risks running into trolling, accusations of "betrayal" or "too radical an approach". As a result, ideas are drowned out by negativity, and people prefer to remain silent or emigrate.

Examples abound: Russian politics is full of gays who publicly denounce LGBT people and vote for anti-LGBT laws to maintain their positions. Anton Krasovsky, the former director of RT, is openly gay, but at the same time he criticizes the community and supports the regime. Many in the community, especially the older generation, believe that only "normal" people deserve respect, and try to "become normal" even at 45 years old.

In the post-Soviet countries, a cultural factor is added: Soviet upbringing taught conformism. People are afraid not only of the police, but also of betrayal from "their own". In Telegram channels, radicals create groups to hunt gays, beating them in the streets and publishing videos, and the community scatters to the corners instead of uniting. Internal divisions are exacerbated by class, ethnic, and regional differences: Muscovites vs. the provinces, Russians vs. ethnic minorities. Instead of solidarity, there is competition for scarce resources and attention.

Immigrants in Europe: Fragmentation Knows No Borders

Even those who emigrate to Europe in search of safety carry with them a burden of internal toxicity.

Many LGBT people from Russia and the post-Soviet space are fleeing repression, but in the new environment they continue to distance themselves from each other or spread gossip, simply because someone's lifestyle is different. Instead of building solidarity in the diaspora, they often reproduce the same patterns: accusations of "wrong" activism, envy of the successful, or trolling in the chat rooms of immigrant communities. This leads to isolation and further decay.

For example, LGBT people from Russia face discrimination in the EU, including violence during and after migration, but conflicts are added within the diaspora: some accuse others of "too open" behavior, which allegedly provokes problems, others of passivity or "betrayal" of the homeland. In Central and Eastern Europe, where many are fleeing, activists are trying to mobilize resources for help, but internal divisions – from cultural differences to personal grievances – are hampering efforts. Ukrainian LGBT refugees in Poland, for example, face not only external homophobia, but also internal disputes in the community, where emigrants from different regions or with different views on the war spread rumors and avoid cooperation.

Why Stonewall Is Impossible Today

Stonewall was spontaneous: the police raid provoked an explosion because tensions had built up and society was ready for change. In Russia, the state controls everything: from the media to the streets. Raids on clubs in 2025 end in arrests, not protests - people know that resistance can lead to years in prison for "extremism", justifying repression with demographic fears.

But even without the state, the community slows itself down. In the United States, after Stonewall, organizations like the Gay Liberation Front emerged. Here, attempts to create something like this are drowned in internal squabbles: one demands more inclusivity, another accuses you of working for a "major", the third says that you are not tolerant. Many leave for Europe or the United States, leaving a vacuum behind, but even there they continue to self-destruct.

Doomed to Loneliness

The LGBT community in Russia and the post-Soviet space will never become strong, because external repression is combined with internal toxicity. Instead of support, there is criticism and sabotage, instead of unity, there is disunity, which follows emigrants even to Europe. A repetition of Stonewall is impossible: there is no spark of solidarity that was ignited in New York. If nothing changes, the community will simply dissolve—in fear, emigration, and self-destruction. It's time to think: maybe it's time to stop "messing up" each other's ideas and start building bridges? But, alas, in the current reality, this seems utopian.