‘London Goodbye’: How Russian Social Media Users Perceive the Securitisation of English
Drawing on securitisation theory and an analysis of social media comments, this paper argues that the Russian state's efforts to securitise English as part of its geopolitical confrontation with the West have largely failed to achieve public acceptance, instead provoking widespread delegitimisation and rejection of these policies.
Original paper licensed under CC BY 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/). This is an AI-generated explanation of the paper below. It is not written or endorsed by the authors. For technical accuracy, refer to the original paper. Read full disclaimer
Language is rarely just a tool for conversation; it is often a mirror reflecting who holds power, who belongs, and who is seen as a threat. In the study of how societies manage these tensions, researchers look at a concept called securitisation. This is not about physical locks or guards, but rather a political process where leaders declare a specific issue—such as a foreign language—to be an existential danger to the nation's survival. By making this declaration, they argue that normal rules should be set aside to take extraordinary measures, like banning certain words or changing school curriculums. However, for this process to truly work, the people being governed must accept the threat as real. If the public does not buy the story, the political move fails to become a lasting social reality. This dynamic became a focal point in Russia following the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, when the state began to frame the English language not as a bridge to the world, but as a weapon of Western influence that needed to be neutralized to protect Russian identity.
A recent study by Natalia Wright, a researcher at the American University of the Middle East, investigates how ordinary Russian citizens reacted to this sudden shift. The research focuses on a series of government actions taken between 2022 and 2026, including reducing the number of hours English is taught in schools, banning international exams like IELTS and TOEFL, removing English from mandatory university entrance tests, and restricting the use of English words in public advertising. To understand the public mood, the researcher did not rely on official surveys or government reports. Instead, she collected 309 comments from five different Russian online platforms, ranging from mainstream social networks to specialized forums for teachers and technology professionals. By reading these unfiltered reactions, she sought to answer a simple question: did the Russian public accept the government's claim that English was a security threat, or did they see it differently?
The findings reveal a striking disconnect between the state's narrative and the public's reality. The government's strategy relied on the idea that English was a powerful, pervasive force that needed to be contained. However, the comments from teachers and parents told a different story. Many described English in Russian schools as a "phantom subject." They explained that while the subject appeared on the schedule, it often did not exist in practice due to a lack of qualified teachers, inconsistent instruction, and a system that had already collapsed before the new restrictions were even announced. One teacher noted that students were often left at a beginner level after years of schooling, not because of a lack of ability, but because the teaching itself was ineffective. For these citizens, the government was fighting a war against a ghost; they were securitising a language that, for many children, was already barely being taught at all.
Beyond the practical failures of the school system, the public viewed the restrictions through the lens of personal freedom rather than national safety. In the comments, English was consistently framed as a tool for escape and opportunity. Parents and young adults described the language as a key to leaving the country, finding work abroad, or accessing global technology and culture. When the government banned international exams or reduced school hours, many citizens interpreted this not as protection, but as a deliberate attempt to trap them. One comment on a technology forum captured this sentiment, suggesting that the bans were designed so that children would not be able to "flee to civilised little Europe" when they grew up. This perspective turned the state's security narrative on its head; where the government saw a threat to national unity, the public saw a barrier to their own future mobility.
The study also uncovered a sharp class divide in how these policies were experienced. A recurring theme in the comments was the hypocrisy of the elite. Many citizens pointed out that the politicians and officials who passed these restrictive laws were sending their own children to private schools or abroad for education, often with access to high-quality English tutoring that was unavailable to the general public. For ordinary families, the new rules meant that learning English became a luxury item, accessible only to those who could afford private tutors. This dynamic effectively privatized the language, widening the gap between the wealthy and the rest of society. The research suggests that rather than creating a unified national identity, the policies were reinforcing social stratification, with the elite exempt from the consequences of their own legislation.
Perhaps the most significant finding was the widespread rejection of the government's story. The securitisation process requires the audience to agree that a threat exists, but the analysis of the social media comments showed that this agreement was largely absent. Instead of fear, the dominant response was delegitimisation. Citizens used irony, historical comparisons to the Soviet era, and logical contradictions to mock the state's position. Some pointed out the absurdity of banning foreign words when the very titles of government officials, such as "president" or "deputy," were themselves borrowed from foreign languages. Others compared the current situation to past periods of isolation, noting that cutting off access to the world had historically led to ignorance rather than strength. While a small minority of commenters did support the restrictions, citing a desire to protect the Russian language or expressing anti-Western sentiment, the overwhelming majority of the voices analyzed rejected the idea that English posed a danger to Russia.
Ultimately, the research indicates that the Russian state's attempt to securitise the English language has not succeeded in the way political theory predicts. The government made the move, declaring the language a threat and enacting extraordinary measures, but the public did not accept the premise. Instead of uniting behind a common defense, the population largely viewed the policies as impractical, hypocritical, and damaging to their own prospects. The study concludes that without the acceptance of the people, a securitisation move remains just a political performance rather than a genuine social transformation. The "London Goodbye" of the headline, which evoked a sense of nostalgic loss, was met not with patriotic resolve, but with a clear-eyed recognition that the country was closing a door that many still needed to keep open.
Drowning in papers in your field?
Get daily digests of the most novel papers matching your research keywords — with technical summaries, in your language.