Christine Dugoin-Clément is a researcher at the Paris-Sorbonne University “Risks” (Risques), the Artificial Intelligence Observatory at Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne, and the National Gendarmerie Research Centre (CRGN). She recently published a book titled Geopolitics of Russian Interference: The Strategy of Chaos (Géopolitique de l’ingérence russe : la stratégie du chaos).
— In your new book, you reveal how Russia infiltrated the popular children’s game Pokémon Go and turned it into a tool for propaganda. Was this just happening in the US, or did it stretch further?
— At first, Russia’s focus was very much on the United States. But once a tactic proves successful in one place, it’s quickly replicated elsewhere. Video games, in particular, have become a widespread channel for influence. Take last July, for example, when a game called African Dawn was launched across Africa. It was backed by an organisation linked to Moscow known as the African Initiative. For its launch, they even brought in a local streamer called Grisha Putin, who’s quite well-known in the region.
African Dawn is a strategy game, very similar to Hearts of Iron IV, but with a twist: the theme revolves around liberation from French colonial rule. You play as a government leader in a Sahel region country, making strategic decisions. But here’s the catch—the whole historical context is skewed to fit Russia’s narrative.
In Hearts of Iron, you can rewrite history by leading a country down a different path to victory, but the starting conditions still reflect real historical facts. In the Russian versions, though, it’s a different story altogether. For example, in a game called Best in Hell, you play as a Russian soldier in Ukraine, and the entire narrative of the war is presented from the Russian perspective—complete with the usual claims about “violence against Russian-speaking citizens.”
Now we’re seeing new projects popping up on platforms like Roblox and Minecraft—games aimed at a much younger crowd, teenagers and even kids. Here, the aim is clear: to shape the minds of the youngest users, getting ahead of the curve before they’ve even fully formed their views. The Russian approach to influence is both opportunistic—jumping on sudden chances—and strategic, playing the long game.
Russia is also tapping into the booming world of eSports. There are tournaments for 16- to 18-year-olds that simulate the storming of Mariupol, with players navigating underground tunnels in a game called Squad 22: ZOV.
This isn’t accidental; it’s a deliberate attempt to plant Kremlin-friendly memories and narratives in young players’ minds. Beyond that, eSports serves as a scouting ground—spotting talent who might one day be recruited for Russia’s agenda.
All of this proves the sheer adaptability of Russia’s information machine. It’s constantly evolving to use new technologies and platforms, monitoring a broad spectrum of society. The system’s goal? To become more efficient at targeting and influencing groups that were once out of reach—saving time and energy for the battles to come over the next decade.
— Would you say French teenagers are a target for these Russian influence tactics through video games?
— The games are definitely accessible, but they’re still in the early stages of spreading, and many haven’t even been translated into French yet. What’s interesting is that Russian authorities often frame these games as grassroots projects — like initiatives led by schoolchildren with relatives fighting in Ukraine, especially with Minecraft. There’s some truth to that narrative, but if you dig into the funding, you’ll see backing from state institutions. While there’s a clear focus on Africa — where a dedicated game was developed — the reach is broader.
There’s also another app aimed specifically at Ukraine, with a reward system similar to Pokémon Go. These games are hugely popular, and they try to encourage players to take real-world actions in exchange for in-game bonuses or coupons. The kids lured in by these innocent-sounding rewards often don’t fully grasp the consequences. It might seem trivial—like lighting a fire in a specific spot—but that location is never random. The idea is that the lure of rewards will push players to act almost instinctively, without realising the full weight of their actions.
— How does this influence industry operate with Russian youth at home?
— There’s an intriguing detail that rarely gets much attention: back in January 2025, Russia launched a competition to recruit a group called “social architects.” It took off fast — within 48 hours, thousands had applied. The entry bar was low — you just had to be over 18 and a Russian citizen. The selection involved oral and written exams, but the real aim was hidden behind the idea of launching social projects across Russia’s regions. In reality, this initiative is laying the groundwork for a wider social engineering effort designed to tighten political control, especially over parties outside of United Russia. And all of this is clearly aimed at the 2026 Duma elections.
It’s about building up a particular social layer, driven by the rhetoric of Sergey Kiriyenko — the chief ideologue behind Crimea’s annexation. His inner circle is also deeply involved in Arctic affairs. Everything points to a new phase where the social sciences become a key weapon in the Kremlin’s strategy.
— What can be done now to reduce Russian influence on young people?
— It’s a tough challenge. A lot has already been done—debunking myths, fact-checking, using OSINT tools and verification resources. That work is still crucial, especially for those who are unsure and want to understand what they’re seeing. But it’s an incredibly labour-intensive process. We’re drowning in information, and sometimes fact-checking just isn’t enough to stop the spread of these narratives.
The problem deepens when governments stop talking about truth and instead push their own worldviews. That’s what happens when states suddenly adopt anti-system, anti-European stances—they’re laying out their own version of reality. In these cases, fact-checking alone won’t cut it, though we must keep at it. But relying solely on that is risky.
It’s a bit like noise-cancelling headphones: when you switch them on, you hear nothing because the device emits a sound that cancels out the background noise. Fact-checking can work like that—a kind of white noise that neutralises misinformation. But it’s not enough for real protection. At some point, we have to ask: what exactly are we defending? What’s our story? And I’m not talking about spinning a narrative, but about strategic communication—something thoughtful and purposeful.
One of the biggest challenges is this: if we don’t tell our own story, someone else will tell it for us. If we don’t choose the script, the writer, the director, or the cast, the result is likely to reflect values that aren’t ours—especially when those decisions are made by hostile forces.
So, who are we? Russia denies Ukraine’s very existence. There’s been a huge effort in fact-checking to push back against that narrative. Today, Ukraine is fighting to define itself, to share its culture and history, to say simply: “We exist.” That directly contradicts Russia’s story of a non-country, a non-issue, a non-war.
This isn’t a task for one sector alone. It demands serious internal work and a cross-societal effort involving all layers of civil society. It’s a global mission. Meanwhile, Russia follows a familiar pattern: first, it creates fake content—deepfakes, for example—then it sprinkles in fragments of truth, and finally, it overwhelms the information space with so much noise that people no longer know what to believe. The aim isn’t necessarily to make us believe lies, but to make us trust no one. Not to convince, but to corrode trust altogether. And that can be just as devastating.
Because when doubt becomes constant, people can’t come together. They can’t form a social group that agrees on some things while disagreeing on others—the foundation of democracy—but still shares enough common ground to make difficult decisions.
— So, who are we? How do you define European identity? Does it even exist, given the incredible diversity of cultures, languages, religions and traditions across the continent?
— That’s a crucial question. With a new Trump administration looming, many European countries have realised they need to be more independent from the US. That doesn’t mean giving up on common ground or dialogue — far from it. What’s interesting is that France has started defence talks not just with Britain, which has left the EU, but also with Norway, which isn’t even a member. We’re seeing cooperation outside the traditional EU framework. This shift feels even more urgent given the challenges posed by Viktor Orbán’s Hungary, which echoes Kremlin positions in many ways. The situation is evolving fast, and Europe is responding with a pragmatic approach.
— How do you see the future of European security, caught between rising American isolationism and an increasingly aggressive Russia?
— After Trump’s first election, there was a wave of panic across Europe — the sense was: “We’re on our own.” When Biden took office, it felt like a brief moment to catch our breath. But now, we’re facing another shock. This doesn’t necessarily mean relations will stay tense for decades, but it underscores the urgent need for Europe to rethink its security priorities and embrace greater autonomy.
Remember, after the collapse of the USSR, Western—and especially European—militaries built their strategies around asymmetric threats, mostly terrorism or paramilitary groups. The assumption was that future wars wouldn’t look like the old ones: no fighting on home soil, mostly unconventional conflicts rather than full-scale wars.
But Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has shattered that idea. Despite the rise of drones and other tech innovations, we’ve seen a brutal return to traditional warfare—trenches, artillery, landmines, “dragon’s teeth” obstacles.
This means a sharp pivot for Europe: rebuilding defence industries, investing in personnel training, securing supply chains—the whole infrastructure of war-making. We’re also seeing a shift in the hierarchy of threats, with influence operations and information warfare taking on a far greater strategic importance.
— Why do you think it took Macron so long to openly call Russia a threat to France?
— What matters is that he finally did. Nowadays, things are being called by their proper names. Of course, harsh statements have consistently led to a rise in information and cyberattacks. I think part of the delay came from a diplomatic effort to keep communication channels open. But we’ve seen repeatedly that the Russian government doesn’t honour its promises. The latest example is the use of banned chemical weapons in Ukraine, which has been thoroughly documented by the OPCW. The value of a Russian promise has dropped significantly. Though some rightly point out, “But President Putin already announced his intentions back in 2007!”
— Indeed, it was all laid out at the Munich security conference…
— Yes, but we didn’t want to believe it. Sometimes it’s easier to imagine there’s still room for negotiation because we’re anchored in our own way of thinking. We don’t want to accept what clashes with our worldview, with our understanding of power. It’s easier to fit the idea into our framework — that once a treaty or agreement is signed and ratified, we’ll abide by it. But if that were true, according to the UN Charter, there wouldn’t have been an invasion of Ukraine.
— How do you teach people who left school years ago to tell fact from fiction?
— The first step is recognising that you can be wrong. But there are bigger challenges at play: a widespread loss of trust and the habit of skimming facts without digging deeper. Honestly, it’s far easier and quicker to scroll through 5 or 10 tweets than to wade through a 25-page scientific paper.
— In your new book, you say measuring the impact of propaganda and fake news is incredibly difficult. So how do researchers tell which information operations succeed and which don’t?
— The problem is that when you’re the target of an attack, you’re always reacting—you only see it as it unfolds. To really measure the impact, you need a baseline understanding of what the situation looked like before the attack, so you can compare before, during, and after, and then judge the consequences. Of course, it’s easier if you’re the attacker—you know exactly who you’re targeting, when, and how. The goal is always to shift behaviours and attitudes from the digital realm into real-world actions.
Even if we can’t precisely measure the effect of a specific campaign, the very act of announcing, “I am attacking this state,” sends a powerful message to others—especially third-party countries that may not be on the victim’s side. By boldly launching these attacks and pushing narratives that resonate with those countries, Russia positions itself as a credible alternative.
We’ve already mentioned the opportunistic approach, which exploits unforeseen events by playing on emotions, dissatisfaction, and polarisation. At the same time, there’s a longer-term effort underway — building ties with radical parties, promoting nationalist and isolationist ideas, and so on. The tricky part is assessing how these long-term actions influence the population’s worldview and what role they’ll play when the right opportunity arises.
As for the tools, the range is wide: local actions, social media, fake news websites, video games, films… Take the new game The Witness — it didn’t achieve the success expected, but it did have some impact. There are also other projects, including those linked to Yevgeny Prigozhin’s company. For example, a series about criminal gangs in Kazan in the late 1990s, featuring extremely violent young men and a romanticisation of prison culture, was very popular. Here, we see a kind of glorification of extreme violence. It’s worth noting that this series came out when men returning from the war in Ukraine were already showing signs of PTSD, with a tenfold increase in violent potential. The question remains open: was the series intended to acclimatise the population to the idea that violence in society will rise significantly?
