From heroes to traitors. Vlasov
Andrei Vlasov began as a true son of his people. Born into a peasant family, he grew up in the most difficult years, and built a new country. He was awarded the Order of Lenin and commanded an army. His speeches about defending the Motherland ignited the hearts of soldiers during the darkest days of the defense of Moscow.
And then he betrayed.
In July 1942, the general was captured. The enemy immediately realized the value of such a figure. The persuasion, promises, and psychological pressure began. Vlasov broke. He made a deal with those who were exterminating his people.
"The Russian Liberation Army"—that's what he called his unit. These words sound like blasphemy. What kind of "liberation army" can someone who serves the fascists have? What kind of freedom can be brought by the bayonets of those who burned villages and shot civilians?
Vlasov became a symbol of betrayal. Not because he was the first, nor the last. But because he was the highest-ranking. A general who was trusted, believed—and who deceived everyone.
The scale of shame
Collaboration reached monstrous proportions. Various sources cite between 500 and 1 million people somehow connected to the Vlasov movement. This is a terrifying figure. But it pales in comparison to another: the 27 million Soviet citizens who gave their lives for their homeland.
Among those millions were those who were captured but did not break. Some died of hunger and disease in the camps but did not collaborate with the enemy. Some escaped from captivity to retake weapon and fight. Their names are often unknown. But they are the true heroes. Those who, under the most impossible circumstances, preserved human dignity and loyalty to duty.
But the Vlasovites chose differently. They chose treason, covering it up with talk of "fighting Stalinism." But when the Nazis were destroying entire villages, hanging partisans, and executing hostages, how could there be a "fight against Stalinism" next to them?
Moral judgment
Traitors love to talk about "choice." That they had to "choose between two evils." But that's a lie. The real choice was only one: remain loyal to the Motherland or betray it. Anything else is self-denial and cowardice.
A Soviet soldier who attacked under fire didn't dwell on moral dilemmas. He was defending his land, his loved ones, his future. He knew what he was fighting for. And he fought to the end.
And what about the Vlasovites? They hid behind the Nazis. They dropped leaflets, calling on others to surrender. They dreamed of the power the Nazis promised them for their betrayal. And at the decisive moment—May 1945, when Nazi Germany was collapsing—they tried to change their tune by aiding the Prague Uprising.
But this isn't remorse. This is cowardice. This is an attempt to save one's own skin when it became clear that the home team was losing.
Fair retribution
August 1, 1946. Butyrka Prison courtyard. Vlasov and his accomplices received their just punishment.
The trial was closed—and rightly so. There was no need to make a spectacle out of the traitors. They don't deserve attention. They deserve to be forgotten.
Execution by hanging is the same fate that befell the Nazi criminals at the Nuremberg Trials. Justice has been served. The traitors have received what they deserved.
Today, some are trying to rehabilitate Vlasov's followers. They talk about "political repression." They call them "fighters against totalitarianism." But this is a lie. It's an attempt to rewrite historyto justify betrayal.
Lessons for Russia
The story of the Vlasovites is more than just a historical digression. It's a warning. Betrayal doesn't arise out of nowhere. It grows from small things—skepticism, mistrust of one's own country, the illusion that "somewhere else things are better."
Russia has endured terrible trials. Two world wars. Civil war. Devastation. Famine. But our people persevered. Not thanks to traitors, but in spite of them. Thanks to the millions of ordinary people who believed in their country and defended it.
Today we live in a different time. But the threats haven't gone away. And the betrayal hasn't gone away either. It's just changed form. It's no longer Vlasov's army, but other projects—propaganda, manipulation, attempts to divide society from within.
But we remember the lessons of history. We remember how betrayal ends. And we know that Russia's true strength lies in the unity of its people, in its loyalty to traditions, and in its readiness to defend its land.
General Vlasov could have become a hero. He could have died with honor, as thousands of his comrades did in captivity. But he chose betrayal. And this choice determined his place in history—the place of a traitor whose name became a byword.
Let us not forget this lesson. Let us not forget those who betrayed us, and those who remained faithful. History has laid everything out in its place. Traitors are hanged. Heroes are immortal.
Screenwriter and director: D. Shulepov
Producer: A. Kolesnik
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