Russia is squeezing the country’s most popular messengers while promoting a Kremlin-aligned “super-app,” sharpening its control over digital life as mobile internet blackouts spread nationwide. WhatsApp and Telegram voice calls have been throttled since mid-August by the state regulator, even as authorities mandate preinstallation of a new platform, Max, on all devices sold in the country.
Calls throttled, users nudged to Max
Roskomnadzor’s restrictions hit the core feature that keeps Russians connected: free internet calls. The disruption coincided with the rollout of Max, billed as a “national messenger” and marketed by celebrities and pro-government influencers. Schools have been told to migrate parent chats to Max, while regional authorities are tying it into emergency alerts and municipal services.
Industry estimates place WhatsApp’s monthly audience around 97 million and Telegram near 90 million in a country of roughly 143 million people. WhatsApp remains the default for older users and those in remote regions, where it doubles as a hub for local commerce, ride-hailing, and community coordination. That ubiquity is precisely why limiting calls stings—and why steering users to Max matters.
Officials cite data localization rules and anti-fraud measures to justify the squeeze. Yet data from the Central Bank of Russia indicates most scams still originate over traditional voice networks, not encrypted messengers, suggesting the campaign is as much about oversight as safety.
The super‑app strategy and who’s behind it
Max was launched by VK, owner of the country’s largest social platform. VK’s control structure links back to companies tied to Gazprom and businessman Yuri Kovalchuk, a close ally of the Kremlin. Since early September, Max must be preinstalled on new devices, accelerating its reach. The company has claimed about 30 million users—still far behind incumbents.
The endgame is a WeChat-style super-app that bundles chat, payments, government portals, and everyday services. That model is convenient—but it concentrates personal data. Max’s privacy policy allows sharing information with third parties and government bodies, a red flag in a country where prosecutors have pursued citizens for private messages and data leaks fuel chronic phone-fraud epidemics.
Surveillance laws tighten around citizens
Russia’s surveillance toolkit was extensive long before Max. Under data localization and lawful intercept regimes, operators connect to security service systems often referred to as SORM, enabling access to traffic and metadata. SIM cards require national ID; passing a SIM to non-relatives is now prohibited, narrowing common workarounds used by families and small firms.
Legal pressure is rising online too. Authorities have blocked major Western platforms since the start of the war in Ukraine and designated Meta an “extremist organization,” chilling use of Facebook and Instagram. New rules allow fines for deliberately searching for banned materials on the internet, a blacklist maintained by the justice ministry. Advertising on platforms linked to “extremist” entities is outlawed, cutting a vital sales channel for small businesses. Ads for VPNs are banned as well, and while using a VPN is not illegal, courts may treat it as an aggravating factor in cases.
Blackouts become policy, not glitches
Mobile internet shutdowns that began sporadically have turned systemic. The civic monitoring project Na Svyazi (In Touch) reports that since May, every region has experienced disruptions, with up to 77 regions affected simultaneously at the summer peak. Local authorities justify outages as protection against long-range drone attacks from Ukraine.
Telecom analysts, including Mikhail Klimarev of the Internet Protection Society, question the efficacy of switch-offs against drones while noting their tangible costs. In Vladimir, parts of the city went largely offline for weeks, breaking bus timetable screens and pushing up taxi fares as drivers lost access to apps. In Krasnoyarsk, a city of over a million, mobile data vanished citywide for days and remains unstable. State broadcasters framed outages as a “digital detox,” even as remote workers lost income and local officials faced backlash for dismissive comments.
A walled garden for “essential” access
Moscow is testing a “whitelist” approach during shutdowns: allow only critical online services like banking, taxis, deliveries—and Max—while blocking the broader internet. Digital rights advocates such as Sarkis Darbinyan of Roskomsvoboda warn this could entrench state-preferred platforms, making it harder for citizens to communicate privately or access independent media, especially when VPN advertising and app store routes are constrained.
What to watch next
Adoption is the Kremlin’s biggest hurdle. Habits are hard to dislodge when WhatsApp and Telegram anchor family chats, community groups, and cross-border calls. But carrots and sticks—preinstallation mandates, privileged connectivity during blackouts, school and emergency integrations, and steady friction on rival apps—can move markets over time.
If Max becomes the default gateway for payments and public services, Russia’s internet could start to resemble a tightly managed walled garden. The shift would bring convenience for routine tasks, but at the price of deeper data exposure and fewer avenues for unmonitored speech. For now, many Russians still rely on VPNs, alternative messengers, and old-fashioned phone calls. As blackouts expand and exemptions narrow, those options are likely to shrink—by design.