In Ukraine, Foreign Fighters Warn of Russian Betrayal

BERDYCHIV, Ukraine—Vakha, 60, sits in a small kitchen of a Soviet-era apartment, chain-smoking cigarettes. Seated at a dusty table, he pours himself a glass of Coke. Next to him, on a small gas stove, Mikhael Dudadiev, 39, known by his war name Benor, is preparing zhizhig galnash, a traditional Chechen dish made of meat, pasta, and garlic sauce.

“It reminds me of the food from my childhood.”

Benor, his face framed by a thick brown beard, is finally back from battle fighting Russian troops on the front lines in Zaporizhzhia.

Both men belong to the OBON (separate special purpose battalion), a specialized close-combat unit within the Legion of Foreign Fighters, primarily composed of Chechen volunteers.

Their unit was established in 2022 by Akhmed Halidovich Zakayev, the exiled prime minister of the self-proclaimed Chechen Republic of Ichkeria, to counter Russia’s aggression against Ukraine. It is led by Commander Abdul Hakim Al Shiani, a veteran of the Chechen wars and the Syrian civil war.

After weeks on the front lines, Benor and Vakha are taking a brief moment of respite in this city southwest of Kyiv. They dip large chunks of boiled meat into the garlic sauce, eating while a radio hums in the background.

“After a phone call between U.S. President Donald Trump and his Russian counterpart Vladimir Putin, a U.S. delegation led by Secretary of State Marco Rubio traveled to Riyadh and met with the Russian foreign minister. Volodymyr Zelensky, who was scheduled to visit Riyadh the same day, canceled his flight.”

The two men barely pay attention. They’ve heard it all before, and know they can’t change much. Benor is a veteran of the Second Chechen War. Vakha, who once served in the Georgian army, fought in 1993 against Russian-backed Abkhazian separatists.

Thousands of foreign fighters have joined the Ukrainian effort since Russia invaded three years ago. But soldiers like Vakha and Benor bring a unique perspective, having seen what happens when conflict breaks out between Russia and former Soviet republics. Suffice it to say they are unimpressed by the latest developments from the United States, where the Trump administration has increasingly aligned with Russia.

“I don’t care about politics anymore,” says Vakha. “All I can say is that Russia will never honor its commitments. It never has. Not in Georgia, not in Chechnya, not in Ukraine after the annexation of Crimea. So why would it start now?”

A sliver of daylight falls on Vakha’s face. An immigrant to Moldova since the ‘90s, he joined the Ukrainian army at the very start of the war. “I don’t even really know why,” he says. “I just couldn’t sit by and do nothing.”

Since then, his life has been a cycle of frontline deployments, training, and rotations. Within OBON, Vakha and Benor fought side by side in the Battle of Bakhmut and the Ukrainian counteroffensive in Kherson oblast.

Since then, primarily deployed on the Chasiv Yar front in the Donetsk oblast, they have conducted infiltration, reconnaissance, and assault missions against Russian forces.

“I don’t feel nostalgic for any country. I feel at home anywhere—on the front, in a trench, in Kyiv, and even here in Berdychiv,” he laughs.

A fight for a lost homeland.

Benor, however, dreams of returning to his homeland one day. Born in Grozny, Chechnya, he joined the Chechen resistance during the Second Chechen War. He was barely 16.

“The only thing that will ever allow me to see my homeland again is the downfall of Russia. That’s why I fight.”

The Chechen wars pitted Chechen Muslim independence fighters, led by Dzhokhar Dudayev (no relation to Benor), against Russia, then under President Boris Yeltsin. Exploiting the weakness of post-Soviet Russia and Chechnya’s mountainous terrain, the Chechen fighters forced Moscow into a humiliating withdrawal, culminating in the Khasavyurt Accord in 1996.

In 1999, a series of apartment bombings in Buynaksk, Moscow, and Volgodonsk killed more than 300 people and injured more than 1,000. The Kremlin swiftly blamed Chechen terrorists, using the attacks as justification for launching the Second Chechen War, which propelled Vladimir Putin to power. 

However, investigations—including those by journalist Anna Politkovskaya—raised suspicions of involvement by FSB, Russia’s security service, suggesting the bombings may have been a false flag operation to secure public support for war. Politkovskaya, a fierce critic of the Kremlin and its actions in Chechnya, was assassinated in 2006, reinforcing concerns about state repression. After the war ended in 2009, Chechnya fell under the rule of the Kadyrov clan, a brutal regime known for human rights abuses, political assassinations, and total allegiance to Moscow.

“Every day was like Bucha,” Benor recalls, referencing the Kyiv suburb where Russian soldiers slaughtered more than 400 civilians and destroyed homes and buildings, according to the Ukrainian government. “Every day, Russian troops would raid our villages, massacring men, women, and children. They killed over 100,000 people and razed every city in the country.”

Exiled in Norway since 2008, Benor, now married and a father of five, joined the Ukrainian army in March 2022. Three years later, he never expected the war to last this long. “We fought on every front, but mostly in Donetsk oblast,” he recalls. “Every time, we fought with the bare minimum. If the West had given us more in 2022, we could have done far more than we can now. But I never thought the Russians would be willing to endure such heavy losses in this war.”

‘We can’t trust Putin.’

In a dimly lit room, behind dust-colored curtains, Adam, known as Berkhi in battle, kneels in prayer. Drones and shells sit in one corner. On the couch, rifles are piled haphazardly.

As members of the Legion of Foreign Fighters under the command of the HUR (Ukraine’s military intelligence service), the soldiers of OBON receive financial support from the Ukrainian government. However, like many other units, OBON compensates for shortages in weaponry through donations from the Chechen diaspora worldwide, as well as by investing their own personal funds.

“We will never be able to trust the Russians. I lost my country because of that so-called peace deal,” Berkhi says in hesitant French, referring to the Khasavyurt Accord. “History repeats itself. We won the First Chechen War. They took their time, rebuilt their army while dividing us, and eventually, they won. They will try the same with Ukraine. You can’t trust Putin. He’s a liar and a murderer.”

A native of Chechnya and a veteran of the Second Chechen War, he went into exile in Belgium in the late 2000s before joining the Ukrainian army in 2016. He first served as a soldier in one of the Chechen battalions before joining the OBON battalion in 2022. For him, Ukraine must keep fighting—because Europe’s survival is at stake. “

The next target will be the Baltic states,” Berkhi says. “When I hear talk of negotiations, I get flashbacks of the Chechen peace talks in 1996-1997. A peace treaty with Russia isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.”

Ukraine must be extremely cautious, Benor warns.

“They will try to divide Ukraine, rebuild their army and resources—I’m 100 percent sure of it,” he said. “That’s exactly what they did with Chechnya. They will use every means possible to take full control of Ukraine. They will never stop.”

Vakha, the Georgia native, takes a drag from his cigarette. He, too, knows what Kremlin promises are worth.

“They won in 1993. Then, in 2008, they started again. Today, Georgia has a pro-Russian president.”

What Trump is offering Russia, Vakha fumes, is nothing short of Ukraine’s surrender. The Russians will never stop.

“When they run out of men, they’ll send the sick, the women, and the children if they have to.” But Benor, in a rare moment of optimism, tries to see another angle. He suggests that, with European help, Ukraine could use a ceasefire to rearm and prepare for the next war.

He clings to the prophecy of Dzhokhar Dudayev, the Chechen independence movement leader assassinated in 1996, who once proclaimed: “Russia will cease to exist when the Ukrainian sun rises.”

Benor exhales deeply.

“We’ll see.”