By Ekaterina Janashia | 2026-05-04

Small groups of combat veterans, clad in camouflage and bearing military insignia, have begun patrolling the streets of major Russian cities. The Kremlin has authorized the deployments, and some analysts say the move is less about public safety than about putting the war in everyone's line of sight.

The initiative integrates veterans of what the Kremlin calls the Special Military Operation (SVO) into civilian policing roles. It follows a series of government decrees and runs through the "Time of Heroes" program, a flagship initiative championed by President Vladimir Putin that fast-tracks veterans into administrative, educational and security positions.

Of more than 65,000 applicants to the federal program, only 168 had been admitted as of late 2025, however -- the overwhelming majority career soldiers or former officials, not the rank-and-file veterans the Kremlin's messaging suggests it serves.

A city running out of cops

Tomsk, a Siberian city of roughly 500,000, is the latest region to formalize the arrangement. Governor Vladimir Mazur announced the formation of a "volunteer squad" composed exclusively of SVO veterans during a meeting with Sergey Sechenov, an "SVO hero," and the Speaker of the Tomsk City Duma.

The context makes the decision hard to argue with on logistics alone. The regional Ministry of Internal Affairs (MVD) is operating at 70% capacity after more than 200 officers resigned in the past year. In Tomsk city itself -- where 64% of the region's crimes occur -- every third police position sits vacant.

The core group will be drawn from the Association of Intelligence and Special Forces Veterans of the Tomsk Region and participants of the state-sponsored "Our Heroes" program. Eighteen veterans have already enrolled and are undergoing legal training and specialized briefings. Mazur said their "caring and responsive" nature would allow them to make a "huge contribution" to public safety.

From Vladivostok to western Russia

The shortage is not unique to Tomsk: nationally, MVD vacancies stood at 152,000 as of mid-2024, with some district departments in Moscow reporting more than half of positions unfilled.

Tomsk is following a blueprint established in Vladivostok in July 2024, where Governor Oleg Kozhemyako formed the "Tiger" volunteer detachment with explicit instructions to "put in their place" visitors and migrants who violate social norms.

According to Novaya Gazeta, those Far East units have moved well beyond foot patrols. They have provided security at major city festivals, conducted joint raids with the Patrol and Inspection Service (PPS) in high-traffic tourist areas, and accompanied high-level inspections led by the Prosecutor's Office and the Federal Security Service (FSB).

Regional authorities cite a 17% decrease in crime as evidence the approach is working -- though official federal statistics recorded a 14-year high of over 617,000 serious crimes nationwide in 2024.

'The war is right here'

Critics read the trend differently. The exact legal parameters of veterans' authority remain opaque. In most cases they operate as "volunteers" or "auxiliaries," similar to the Soviet-era Druzhinniki civilian patrols. But their presence on street corners, critics argue, carries a message that has little to do with crime statistics.

"This is not about public safety; it is about psychological control," Ilona, a Saint Petersburg-based psychologist who asked Kontur to withhold her real name, said. "By putting soldiers on the street corners, the government is reminding every citizen that the war is not far away -- it is right here, and the state is watching."

The deployment comes as concerns mount over the reintegration of returning soldiers. A September 2025 Levada Center survey found that four in ten Russians believe the return of soldiers from Ukraine will bring an increase in crime and social conflict -- public anxiety the street patrol program does little to ease.

Russian media has reported a steady stream of violent crimes involving veterans, many of whom were recruited from the prison system under the past "Storm-Z" and Wagner Group initiatives. The Kremlin has sought to counter that narrative by casting returnees as a heroic new elite.

Psychologists warn, however, that placing veterans -- many of whom may suffer from undiagnosed Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)-- into high-pressure civilian policing roles carries real risk. Russia's Defense Ministry itself estimates that one in five veterans suffers from PTSD, according to lawmakers, and the country has fewer than one therapist per 7,000 adults.

The transition from combat to city streets is fundamentally disorienting, Ilona said.

"In a war zone, the mindset is binary: friend or foe. When you apply that mindset to a teenager playing loud music or a citizen expressing frustration at a bus stop, the potential for escalation is significant."

Analysts describe the program as serving dual purposes: it provides employment for thousands of returning soldiers while expanding the state's surveillance apparatus at a time of economic strain and sporadic domestic dissent. The loyalty of these units, analysts note, was forged on the battlefield rather than in civil service, and that distinction may be precisely the point.