Victory Day or Shutdown Day? Moscow Grinds to a Halt Ahead of May 9 Parade

Putin’s show of strength turns the capital into a locked-down ghost city, as flight chaos, network outages, and shuttered services leave Muscovites bewildered.

As Moscow prepares for Victory Day on May 9, the city is almost paralysed.

Russian media reports a capital in disarray, a near-total shutdown of services, and an eerie stillness that hangs over the streets. The Victory Day parade, which serves as both a celebration of Russia’s triumph over Nazi Germany and a showcase of Vladimir Putin’s military strength, has transformed Moscow into a city on the brink of a breakdown.

The chaos is palpable. Airports are in a mess, with thousands of travellers stranded as flights are cancelled. Amid record Ukrainian drone attacks, civil aviation authorities temporarily grounded flights at Moscow’s Domodedovo, Vnukovo and Zhukovsky airports, as well as in the cities of Nizhny Novgorod, Kirov, Yaroslavl, Kazan and others, warning of possible cancellations. So far, at least 60,000 people had their trips delayed or cancelled, with around 350 flights reportedly affected, according to the Association of Russia’s Tour Operators

Major networks like Megafon and Beeline are down, cutting off mobile internet and calls. Restaurants, shops, sports complexes and banks near parade routes have been sealed off. The metro system, typically the lifeblood of the city, has been closed for the day, and even basic services like food delivery have ground to a halt. Taxis are nearly impossible to hail, leaving residents stranded in a city that feels more like a military encampment than a bustling capital.

Despite this disruption, foreign leaders are arriving in Moscow, anxious and cautious as they prepare to attend Putin’s Victory Day celebrations on the Red Square. It is a moment of strained diplomacy, one where the grandiose display of military might will be juxtaposed with the palpable anxiety of Ukrainian drones raining down on Russian territory.

For three days, Ukrainian drones have relentlessly pounded targets in the capital. As the parade approaches, fears grow that it could be disrupted, though the Kremlin insists its military is doing everything to ensure security. Moscow is now protected by layers of electronic "umbrellas" and advanced air defenses designed to intercept drones before they reach the city centre.

Gone be the days when former Mayor Yuri Luzhkov used to just seed the rain clouds to ensure that the elements didn’t rain on Putin’s parade. Now, the city relies on high-tech defense hardware to keep the skies safe.

For Putin, this parade is about more than just victory in World War II; it is about projecting strength, reinforcing turbo-nationalism and his sinister death cult, and sending a message to both his domestic audience and the world. But the timing of these celebrations could not be more fraught.

Since Putin took power in 2000, Victory Day celebrations have shifted from honouring WWII victims to glorifying Russia’s military might. When I arrived in 2005, Victory Day Moscow felt a lot more like a family celebration. There were parades and music, people would gather in parks, veterans were honoured, and the whole city had this warm, respectful atmosphere. It was patriotic, of course, but not overloaded with propaganda or aggressive nationalism like it became later.

After 2008, the event became Putin’s propaganda tool to promote Russian power, with growing displays of military strength, the replacement of Soviet symbols, and the rise of the fake ‘Immortal Regiment’ marches. Now, the message is clear: Russia, under Putin, is willing to "repeat" the devastating war to prove its greatness, with the West painted as the new enemy.

Russia’s national identity is built on war and Victory Day isn’t just about defeating the Nazis - it cements the idea that Russia’s survival depends on perpetual struggle. Since the fall of communism, Russia has been at war or preparing for it - Chechnya, Georgia, Syria, Ukraine. Conflict isn’t just strategy; it’s how Russia asserts power.

The Russia I left in February 2022 is unrecognisable in many ways. One of the most disturbing changes is how the school system has become a vehicle for glorifying war. I have friends in Moscow and St. Petersburg who have pulled their children out of schools, unwilling to subject them to the warped curriculum. Those who can afford it are sending their kids to private schools, while others are reluctantly homeschooling.

The situation is especially disturbing in places like Kindergarten No. 31 in the Moscow suburb of Korolev, where officers in fatigues have demonstrated to toddlers aged just four how to use an AK-47 and an anti-tank grenade launcher. This is not an isolated incident; military service is now glorified at every level of education, with a growing focus on preparing children to defend the homeland. Millions of Russian children are being raised to view war not as a tragedy, but as a noble duty.

In the midst of this dysfunction, foreign leaders are making their way to Moscow, not in solidarity with Russia’s cause, but as a necessary diplomatic manoeuvre.

Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico is confirmed to attend despite a recent illness, while Serbian President Aleksandar Vučić, recovering from a hospital stay, may still make it. Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, a Putin ally, likely won’t attend, sensitive to Hungary’s own history in the war, and both Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi and his defense minister have bowed out due to tensions with Pakistan.

But the most notable presence is Chinese President Xi Jinping, attending for the first time in years. His appearance underscores the growing alignment of Global South powers, highlighting a stark contrast to Europe’s fragmented unity and the chaos in the United States. Meanwhile, rumours swirl that a Trump cabinet member might also make a surprise appearance.

At the same time, the failed ceasefire agreement between Ukraine and Russia looms large. In recent months, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky’s efforts to secure a halt in hostilities were met with dismissive rhetoric from Moscow. The ceasefire negotiations, which promised a glimmer of hope for de-escalation, fell apart under the weight of Putin’s hardline stance.

In the aftermath, the ceasefire’s collapse has become a symbol of the profound disconnect between Moscow’s rhetoric and the realities of war. Victory Day, traditionally a day of celebration, is now overshadowed by the futility of peace efforts and the relentless destruction brought on by continued conflict.

The tensions that surround this year’s Victory Day celebrations expose the widening gap between Putin’s vision of Russia’s strength and the chaos that continues to envelop the country. Moscow’s paralysis on this day is symbolic of a larger sense of dysfunction gripping the Russian state: a government obsessed with military displays and grandiose gestures while its own infrastructure and economy crumbles under the weight of its war-driven priorities.

And as Ukrainian drones continue to strike Russian soil, it is clear that Russia’s true battle - both on the ground and in the air - is far from over.

To add a little spice to the festivities, Zelensky has warned that Ukraine “cannot guarantee the safety” of anyone attending the parade. With that kind of invitation, maybe Putin should trye to rethink his guest list - unless he’s planning on making the parade a high-stakes game of Russian roulette.