By Halyna Hergert | 2026-03-18

Russia has spent more than a decade trying to shape the minds of Crimea's youth. By its own officials' account, it is failing. Teenagers on the peninsula are seeking out Ukrainian-language resources, learning the language Russia fears, and leaving for Ukraine in growing numbers -- sometimes the moment a military summons arrives.

At closed-door meetings, Russian officials have discussed strategies to tighten control over teenagers and intensify propaganda efforts, according to sources familiar with the situation. The Krym.Realii (Crimea.Realities) project reported the developments February 9, citing a Crimean activist from the international #LiberateCrimea campaign.

After graduating, some young people move to Ukrainian-controlled territory and give interviews openly criticizing the occupation -- clear evidence, the activist said, that Russian propaganda in schools and universities has failed.

Learning Ukrainian underground

Although the Ukrainian language is not officially banned in Crimea -- it is even mentioned in the peninsula's Constitution as a state language -- studying it is now only possible underground.

Ivan, a representative of the Zhovta Strychka (Yellow Ribbon) civil resistance movement, told Kontur that Russian authorities view the language as an existential threat.

"They are terrified of the Ukrainian language spreading; it's a major trigger for them. They believe that wherever the Ukrainian language appears, pro-Ukrainian sentiment follows," Ivan said.

His last name is withheld for security reasons. Founded in April 2022 following the Russian invasion, the Yellow Ribbon movement operates across Ukraine's occupied territories, leading informational resistance against the occupiers.

All lessons are conducted out of the public eye, Ivan said, with many families across occupied territories teaching children Ukrainian so they can eventually attend Ukrainian universities.

Any expression of Ukrainian identity carries risk: residents who display pro-Ukrainian views are placed on lists of "unreliable" citizens and monitored by a network of informants. A group called "Crimean SMERSH," an acronym for "Death to Spies," tracks residents with pro-Ukrainian leanings and reports them to authorities.

Russian officials are responding by pushing teenagers into school-based clubs, sports sections and other extracurricular programs. Ivan said authorities are also luring youth with educational, tourist, professional and military programs designed to draw them toward the Russian army.

Yet despite the pressure, a significant share of young people remain oriented toward Ukraine, including, in some documented cases, children from pro-Russian families.

"When the Ukrainian flag flies in Crimea, there is no war. It is crucial that they understand the Russian context means war, repression and a state of total uncertainty," Ivan said. "We have heard of such cases and documented them. It is very heartening that this is happening."

Young people seek ways out

The number of young people seeking to leave occupied Crimea is rising. Ivan said 2025 brought a noticeable surge in departure requests, as people came to terms with the occupation being long-term and saw no future under Russian rule.

The Save Ukraine organization, which helps Ukrainians escape to government-controlled territory, confirmed the trend.

Legal Director Myroslava Kharchenko told Kontur that 2024–2025 was a peak period for teenagers and young adults contacting the group for help leaving occupied Crimea. Where earlier requests typically came from families with children, young people are now increasingly acting on their own, sometimes against their families' political views.

Kharchenko cited the case of a young woman who had just turned 18 and was forced to flee after Russian security forces interrogated her over a rap video and a photo of coffee cups with yellow and blue straws -- colors resembling the Ukrainian flag. The Federal Security Service summoned her and forced her to make a public apology.

Teenage boys face particular pressure from military conscription. Kharchenko noted that in some cases, after a summons is allegedly sent, police arrive at a young man's home, take him to a station, conduct a medical examination on the spot and register him for military service immediately. The fear of conscription often serves as the final catalyst for the decision to leave.

Departure requires meticulous preparation and secrecy. Kharchenko said even the contents of a suitcase must match the cover story given at checkpoints.

"The golden rule is to tell no one about your plans," she said.

'Not my country'

Eighteen-year-old Artem escaped Crimea and now looks out at Kyiv's main boulevard, Khreshchatyk, still not fully believing he made it. He moved to Sevastopol from Zaporizhzhia as a child in 2012, two years before Russia annexed the peninsula, and told Ukrainian public broadcaster Suspilne he fled after receiving an army summons.

He remembers being eight years old and shouting "Glory to Ukraine!" from a school window, not yet fully understanding what it meant. A psychologist pulled him aside and told him Nazis used those words to kill children in Donbas. Even then, he said, he knew it was nonsense.

Over the years, the sense of confinement deepened. He dreamed of becoming a journalist but watched others imprisoned for holding alternative views. By 14, he understood that documents issued in Crimea were recognized almost nowhere.

"A diploma there is just toilet paper," he said.

When the army summons arrived, he made his decision. He left without telling his parents, traveling by train to Minsk, obtaining a Ukrainian travel document at the consulate there, and crossing into Ukraine from Belarus.

"I always despised being in Russia. It is not my country; it is not my homeland. It is a life that was forced upon me, and that thought ate away at me every single day until I escaped," Artem said. "I'd rather take a risk and fail than stay and regret it for the rest of my life."