Trust Betrayed: Chechen, Georgian, and Belarusian Fighters Call for Vigilance Against Russian Deceit in Ukraine

**Berdychiv, UKRAINE** – Mikhael Dudadiev, a 39-year-old known as Benor in conflict circles, is in the modest kitchen of a Soviet-era apartment, making Zhizhig Galnash, a classic Chechen meal featuring meat, pasta, and garlic sauce.

“It brings back memories of my childhood meals.”

His thick brown beard frames his face, and his sturdy build speaks to his experiences on the battlefront in Zaporizhzhia. Benor is a member of the Obone unit, a contingent of the Foreign Legion focused on close combat, primarily made up of Chechen volunteers and linked to the exiled Ichkerian government in Kyiv.

After weeks of fighting, Benor is taking a short break in the rear. He enjoys sizable pieces of boiled meat dipped in the garlic sauce, savoring each bite.

Nearby, his fellow fighter, Vakha*, a Georgian, pours himself a glass of Coke. Benor is a seasoned veteran of the Second Chechen War, while Vakha, who served in the Georgian army, fought during his country’s war against Russian-supported Abkhaz separatists in 1993.

The faint sound of the radio fills the air, reporting:

“Following a telephone conversation between U.S. President Donald Trump and his Russian counterpart Vladimir Putin, an American delegation spearheaded by Secretary of State Marco Rubio arrived in Riyadh to meet with the Russian foreign minister. President Volodymyr Zelensky, who planned to visit Riyadh on the same day, has canceled his trip.”

The two men barely register the broadcast. They have heard it all before.

The fading daylight casts a soft glow on Vakha’s face.

“I’ve lost interest in politics. What I can say is that Russia will never keep its promises. It hasn’t done so in Georgia, Chechnya, or in Ukraine after Crimea’s annexation. So why would it change now?” the 60-year-old states.

Having moved to Moldova in the 1990s, he enlisted in the Ukrainian military at the onset of the war.

“I can’t say exactly why anymore. I just couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”

Since then, his existence has revolved around battles, training, and deployment rotations.

“I don’t feel a sense of nostalgia for any one country. I feel at home wherever I am — at the front, in a trench, in Kyiv, and even here in Berdychiv,” he chuckles.

Benor dreams of someday returning to his homeland. Originally from Grozny, he joined the Chechen resistance during the Second Chechen War at the tender age of 16.

The conflict, which emerged from the Soviet Union’s collapse in the 1990s, saw Chechen Muslim independence fighters, led by Dzhokhar Dudayev (unrelated to Benor), oppose Russian authority.

Taking advantage of Russia’s weakened position and the mountainous terrain of Chechnya, the separatists achieved an initial triumph, leading to the Khasavyurt Agreements (1996) that compelled Russian troops to withdraw.

However, in 1999, under the guise of an anti-terrorism operation, then-Prime Minister Vladimir Putin initiated a new military offensive. Under-equipped and divided, the Chechen separatists capitulated in 2009. Since then, Chechnya has been absorbed back into the Russian Federation, governed by the Kadyrov family, a close ally of Moscow.

«Every day felt like Bucha,» Benor reflects. «The Russians would raid our villages daily, committing atrocities against men, women, and children. The death toll surpassed 100,000, and they devastated every city.»

After relocating to Norway in 2008, Benor, now a husband and father of five, joined the Ukrainian military in March 2022.

“Only the fall of Russia will open the path for me to see my homeland again. That’s my motivation for fighting.”

Salevi Subotsky, who goes by the name Stare, a fighter from Pinsk, Belarus, echoes Benor’s sentiments. Although he doesn’t express a strong desire to return, he understands that Russia, through its ally Alexander Lukashenko — the pro-Russian leader of Belarus — has robbed him of his future, forcing him into exile.

“I left primarily for economic reasons, rather than political ones. First, I went to Switzerland, then France, where I attempted to join the Foreign Legion, and finally to the Netherlands, where I worked on a tulip farm.”

Accompanied by a pitbull, Stare walks with confidence, rubbing his shaved head. “I came here because I had Ukrainian friends and witnessed what Russia was doing.”

Since then, the Belarusian KGB has sought to intimidate his family back home.

“They’ve detained my relatives multiple times in an effort to extract information about my activities in Ukraine,” he reveals. “It’s a corrupt regime completely under Russian control. They aim to impose the same fate on Ukraine — to obliterate the Ukrainian language, its culture, and anything that challenges the Kremlin. If they can’t install a dictator akin to Lukashenko in Ukraine, the war will persist, regardless of any treaty. Ukrainians must continue to resist.”

Three years later, neither man anticipated the protracted nature of the conflict.

In a dimly lit room behind dusty curtains, Adam*, who goes by the name Berkhi, another Chechen fighter, is engrossed in prayer. Drones and shells are stacked in a corner, while a pile of rifles sits haphazardly on the couch.

“We can never trust the Russians. I lost my homeland due to that so-called peace agreement (the Khasavyurt Accords). History is merely repeating itself. We won the First Chechen War. They took their time to regroup while sowing division among us, and in the end, they triumphed. They will attempt to do the same with Ukraine. You can’t rely on Putin. He’s a deceiver and a murderer,” Berkhi states in hesitant French. Having lived in Belgium, he joined the Ukrainian army in 2016.

For him, Ukraine must persist in its fight for survival, as he believes Europe’s future is at stake. He worries that the Baltic states might be next in line for aggression.

“When the discussion turns to negotiations, it triggers memories of the Chechen peace talks from 1996-1997. Any peace treaty with Russia is worth no more than the paper it’s printed on,” he adds.

Benor insists that Ukraine must remain vigilant.

“They will try to fracture Ukraine, rebuild their military, and amass resources — I am 100% certain of it,” he maintains. “That’s precisely what they did in Chechnya. They will use everything at their disposal to assert complete control over Ukraine. They will never cease their efforts.”

Vakha exhales a lungful of smoke from his cigarette. He is well-acquainted with the value of the Kremlin’s promises.

“They prevailed in 1993, then resumed hostilities in 2008. Now, Georgia has a pro-Russian president.”

What Trump is proposing to Russia, Vakha laments, amounts to nothing less than Ukraine’s surrender. The Russians will never relent.

“When their manpower dwindles, they will deploy the sick, women, and children into combat, if necessary.”

In an unusual moment of hopefulness, Benor attempts to soften the tone of the conversation. He suggests that, with support from European allies, Ukraine could use a ceasefire as an opportunity to regroup and prepare for future confrontations.

He clings to the prophecy of Dzhokhar Dudayev, the leader of the Ichkerian independence movement, who was assassinated by the Russians in 1996, who said, “Russia will fall when the Ukrainian sun rises.”

Benor exhales a breath of resignation. “We’ll see.”

*Last names have been withheld for safety reasons.