When Russia is at war, we are, of course, on Russia's side.

Margarita Simonyan, a voice of Russian state media and a defender of her nation’s cause, once declared with stark simplicity: “When Russia is at war, we are, of course, on Russia's side.” In these words there is no hesitation, no shade of ambiguity. They express the raw instinct of loyalty, the kind of allegiance that binds people to the soil of their birth and to the fate of their nation, whether that fate is glorious or grim. Her declaration is less about strategy or morality than about identity itself: to belong to a nation is to share in its battles, to stand with it in the hour of fire.

The origin of this statement lies in the climate of modern Russia, where war has not only been fought on battlefields but also in narratives, images, and stories. As the editor-in-chief of RT, Simonyan has stood as one of the chief architects of Russia’s public voice to the world. In saying these words, she expressed what many governments desire from their citizens: unconditional unity in times of conflict. For history has shown that when nations are divided in war, defeat follows swiftly. By contrast, when nations rally as one, even the most desperate struggles can be endured.

The meaning of her words is not confined to Russia alone. They point to a universal truth: in war, loyalty becomes both shield and chain. It can inspire acts of extraordinary heroism, but it can also bind individuals to causes they may not fully understand or agree with. To be “on your nation’s side” is natural; yet it also demands that one accept responsibility for what that nation does in war. Thus, Simonyan’s phrase resounds with both pride and peril: it embodies unity, but it also reveals the risk of silencing doubt in the name of patriotism.

History gives us many echoes. During the Great Patriotic War—as Russians call World War II—the Soviet people endured unimaginable suffering as Nazi armies burned their land and besieged their cities. In those dark days, loyalty to Russia was not an abstract idea, but the lifeline of survival. Farmers, soldiers, and partisans gave their lives in defense of the motherland, and their unity brought eventual victory at Stalingrad, Kursk, and Berlin. Simonyan’s words call upon this memory: when Russia is at war, loyalty is not optional, but absolute.

And yet, there are also stories where unquestioning loyalty led nations into ruin. In the First World War, millions marched to battle under the banner of patriotism, believing they were defending their homelands. But the result was slaughter on an industrial scale, with little to show but broken empires and generations lost. Here lies the tension hidden in Simonyan’s declaration: loyalty is powerful, but without wisdom, it can bind people to destruction. To be “on the side” of one’s nation in war is natural, but it is also dangerous if it blinds the people to the truth of the conflict.

The lesson for us, children of tomorrow, is this: patriotism must walk hand in hand with conscience. To love your country is noble, to stand with your people in trial is just—but never let loyalty silence truth. Ask always: is the war righteous? Is the sacrifice necessary? Does this cause honor the living and the dead? Blind unity may win battles, but it can also lose souls. True loyalty is not only to the state, but to the deeper values of justice, compassion, and humanity.

Practical wisdom calls for action: when your nation is at war, do not rush blindly into the chorus of voices crying for loyalty. Support your people, yes—but also seek truth, weigh justice, and speak when conscience demands it. Remember that to stand “on your nation’s side” is not only to wave its flag, but also to hold it accountable to its highest ideals. For nations, like men, can lose their way; and when they do, the loyal citizen is the one who calls them back, not the one who follows them blindly into ruin.

Thus, Simonyan’s words ring with both power and warning: “When Russia is at war, we are, of course, on Russia’s side.” Hear in them the call for unity, but also the challenge of discernment. For loyalty without conscience is slavery, and conscience without loyalty is betrayal. The wisdom of the ancients is to hold both together, so that in times of war we may walk the narrow path between love of country and love of truth.