Reporting from Russia amidst the Ukraine war is no easy feat, and no one knows this better than BBC correspondent Steve Rosenberg. In a world where every word is scrutinized and every move watched, Rosenberg navigates a perilous tightrope, balancing truth-telling with the very real threat of being labeled an 'enemy of the state.' But here's where it gets controversial: while some see him as a brave journalist, others in Russia's state media have unleashed vitriolic attacks, calling him everything from a 'defecating squirrel' to a conscious adversary of the nation. And this is the part most people miss—Rosenberg's deep, personal connection to Russia, a country he fell in love with decades ago, only makes the current climate more heartbreaking.
Rosenberg's journey in Russia spans over thirty years, during which he immersed himself in its language, literature, and music. At university, he even led a choir that performed Russian folk classics and wrote a whimsical song in Russian about a snowman who melted under the weight of too many clothes. Yet, in February 2022, the Russia he knew seemed to melt away as the country launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine, plunging the region into its darkest chapter since World War Two. This wasn't entirely unexpected—Russia's annexation of Crimea in 2014 and its alleged role in fueling conflict in eastern Ukraine had already strained relations with the West. But the invasion marked a watershed moment, transforming the landscape for journalists like Rosenberg.
Reporting from Russia now feels like walking a tightrope over a legal minefield. New laws have been enacted to silence dissent, and BBC platforms have been blocked. The arrest of Wall Street Journal reporter Evan Gershkovich in 2023 on espionage charges underscored the risks: even a foreign passport offers no guarantee of safety. Rosenberg and his team face constant challenges, from 'additional checks' at airports to the reluctance of sources to speak openly. Yet, they persist, offering a rare glimpse into a nation in turmoil through Our Man in Moscow, a BBC Panorama film that chronicles a year in the life of the BBC's Moscow bureau.
Despite the hostility, Rosenberg occasionally gets the chance to question President Putin directly. In one exchange, he asked Putin about the possibility of new 'special military operations.' Putin's response was telling: 'There won't be any operations if you treat us with respect. If you respect our interests…' This raises a critical question: What happens if Putin concludes that Russia's interests are not being respected? With Donald Trump's return to the White House, Moscow feels it's gaining more respect from Washington, shifting much of its anti-Western rhetoric toward the European Union and the UK instead.
The contrast with the past is stark. In 1997, Rosenberg appeared on The White Parrot Club, a Russian TV show where celebrities fondly reminisced about Britain's role in World War Two. He even sang a British ditty, feeling then that Russia and the West were on a 'bicycle made for two,' leaving Cold War tensions behind. Fast forward to today, and the tone has shifted dramatically—from 'white parrots' to 'defecating squirrels.' Worse still, hopes of East-West friendship have given way to a devastating war that has ravaged Ukraine and reshaped Europe's future.
How this war ends will impact not just Ukraine and Russia, but the entire continent. Over the years, Rosenberg has encountered moments that have both shocked and moved him. At a pro-Putin rally in 2022, a woman named Vera told him she'd rather see her son killed fighting in Ukraine than 'getting up to mischief at home.' Yet, there are also moments of humanity: days after being labeled an 'enemy of Russia' by TV host Vladimir Solovyov, Muscovites approached Rosenberg to shake his hand and ask for selfies. It's a duality that mirrors Russia's national symbol, the double-headed eagle—one head growling with hostility, the other offering gratitude.
Is Rosenberg an enemy of Russia, or a journalist doing his job in impossible circumstances? The answer likely depends on whom you ask. But one thing is clear: his work is more important than ever. As the war drags on, the world needs voices like his to shed light on the complexities of this conflict. What do you think? Is Rosenberg a hero, a villain, or something in between? Let us know in the comments—this is a conversation worth having.
