Russia’s Theatre of War: How Russia Bombed, Buried, and Whitewashed Its Crimes in Mariupol

When the first reports came out of Mariupol that Russia had bombed the Drama Theatre in the center of the city—with thousands of people inside—it seemed almost too devastating to be true. For days, the world had been watching in desperation as Russia was mercilessly destroying the city on the Azov Sea that was once home to hundreds of thousands of Ukrainians—a booming center for industry, business and the arts. Block by block, street by street, family by family, the Russian military waged a brutal campaign of annihilation, deploying aerial bombardments, tanks, mortars, and heavy artillery to systematically erase life.

The Donetsk Regional Academic Drama Theatre became a refuge for hundreds of people trying to find safety as their city crumbled around them. Just in one central area of the city, measuring roughly 14 square kilometers, Russia had damaged or destroyed over 4,800 buildings, turning the city into an open-air graveyard. And so families with children made their way to the grand building on Mariupol's central square, which was once a symbol of culture, joy, and community. Now, it stood as their last refuge, a fragile hope for survival. 

People took over the rooms within the building, and many stayed in the basement below the theatre trying to hide from the bombs that Russia was dropping all across the city. Actors who once performed on its stage, now hid together with others beneath the theater too. To not take any chances, and to make it even more apparent that civilians were hiding inside the building, the word “ДЕТИ” (children in Russian) was written out in big white letters in front and behind the building. Just a few days before, on the 14th of March, a satellite image had captured the signs around the Mariupol Drama Theater. Those inside had hoped that it would keep them safe, as it would deter anyone in a fighter jet—who could clearly see the signs from above—from striking the building. But they were wrong. 

On the morning of the 16th of March, shortly after 10 am, a Russian fighter aircraft dropped two 500kg bombs on the biggest civilian shelter in the city. They detonated simultaneously. No signs or people were able to stop the pilots or the commanders who gave orders, as they were clearly deliberately targeting civilians in order to cause maximum devastation. It is estimated that over 600 people were killed inside the building. Many who witnessed this horrific attack describe scenes of utter disbelief, pain and horror. “We saw the roof [of the theatre] rise up,” recounts one witness. As parts of the building collapsed, rubble buried hundreds of bodies beneath it.

Today, Mariupol is under Russian occupation, with Russia having spent billions on a deliberate effort to erase any trace of the atrocities committed there. Russia is reconstructing the very city it reduced to rubble, using the spectacle of rebuilding as propaganda for the world to see. The Mariupol Drama Theatre is no exception. At first, in August of 2022, they covered the area with chlorine and poured concrete over the dead bodies of victims. Then, they opted for a more insidious approach: a so-called "reconstruction," masking the theater’s ruins with a façade adorned with images of cultural icons.

Culture has become a key instrument in Russia’s strategy of distraction, both domestically, in occupied areas of Ukraine and abroad. In recent years, the Kremlin has invested heavily in the Russification of Mariupol, branding it as a model for its so-called revitalization efforts of cities it first destroys, then claims to rebuild. Images from officials of happy people with Russian flags litter telegram chats and state media, but the reality is far from the truth. An investigation by the Financial Times revealed just how dire the situation actually is in Russia’s new “Potemkin Village.” As bloggers are brought into the city to show how great it is, many ordinary people live in derelict buildings and conditions—fearing to speak out against the Kremlin’s iron grip. 

Russia hopes that these images will serve as a convenient smokescreen, making the world forget its war crimes in Mariupol. But it has another powerful ally in this deception: its culture. As Russia’s full-scale invasion enters its fourth year—and its war against Ukraine stretches into its eleventh—prestigious institutions continue to lend legitimacy to Russian culture. Productions like Eugene Onegin at Teatro alla Scala, Three Sisters at Shakespeare’s Globe, and Uncle Vanya at Berkeley Rep signal that Russian art remains welcome on the world stage, even as its government wages a brutal war.

Historically, theater has often served as a space for protest, a medium to challenge oppression and power. Yet since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion, much of Russia’s cultural sphere—including its theater community—has either remained silent or openly endorsed the war. And in many senses, Russian culture has turned into a useful instrument of distraction, shielding Russia from the consequences of its atrocities. Instead of being condemned as a perpetrator of war crimes, Russia is once again seen through the soft-focus lens of its cultural prestige. This artistic normalization whitewashes its brutal actions against civilians, allowing it to maintain a seat at the cultural table while its army razes Ukrainian cities to the ground.

​​Understandably, this sparks outrage among Ukrainians. Yet rather than acknowledging their concerns, many cultural institutions respond with indifference or misunderstanding. In some cases, the pushback against these performances is misrepresented, with Ukrainians themselves unfairly cast as aggressors rather than as a people resisting the erasure of their culture and suffering.

Tetiana Mikhina of the Ukrainian National Academic Theater was born in Mariupol. She believes that "Every time a ticket to a Russian performance is bought, one is normalizing, or even supporting Russian crimes in Ukraine.” Like many others, she wants the world to stop ignoring Russia’s war crimes.

This is precisely what the new campaign “Russian Culture Distracts You from Russian Crimes”, launched to commemorate the Russian bombing of the Mariupol Drama Theater, aims to convey. Mikhina, who stars in the campaign, adds, “To appreciate the 'greatness' of Russian culture, we must always, always look at the actual actions of the Russian Federation. Only then can we see their true 'greatness'."

To appreciate the 'greatness' of Russian culture, we must always, always look at the actual actions of the Russian Federation. Only then can we see their true 'greatness'

Tetiana Mikhina

Ukrainian National Academic Theater

Ukrainian actors are not giving up, even those who have lived through Russia’s brutal attack on the Mariupol Drama Theater three years ago today. It has been a year since they returned to stage, having moved the troupe to Uzhhorod in the west of Ukraine. “The body of our theatre has been destroyed, but the heart still beats here in Uzhhorod,” Hennadiy Dybovskiy, the new director of the theatre, told the Guardian in 2024. And even though some of their colleagues who stayed decided to join a new theatre established by Russian occupation authorities that is now part of Russia’s propaganda machine, the ones who have left keep telling the world the truth about what happened in their city. 

Find out how you can get involved in the “Russian Culture Distracts You from Russian Crimes” campaign here: