Navigating Hostility: Steve Rosenberg's Experience Reporting from Russia

Mon Feb 02 2026 13:52:03 GMT+0200 (Eastern European Standard Time)

BBC correspondent Steve Rosenberg shares his challenging experiences reporting from Russia amidst escalating tensions and hostility towards Western media. He reflects on his long-standing relationship with the country, the changing perceptions of the West, and the complexities of delivering truthful reporting in a repressive environment.

In a personal reflection, Steve Rosenberg, the BBC's Russia editor, reveals the difficulties of reporting from a country where hostility towards the UK media is growing. He recounts the mixed reactions he receives from the Russian public, the dangers faced by journalists, and the changing political landscape influencing media freedom. His narrative underscores the importance of maintaining journalistic integrity in challenging circumstances.

On his Russian TV show, a famous presenter takes aim and unleashes a tirade against the UK.

I'm just glad it's not his finger on the nuclear button.

We still haven't destroyed London or Birmingham, barks Vladimir Solovyov. We haven't wiped all this British scum from the face of the earth. He sounds disappointed.

We haven't kicked out the goddamned BBC with that Steve Rotten-berg. He walks around looking like a defecating squirrel…he's a conscious enemy of our country! Welcome to my world: the world of a BBC correspondent in Russia.

It's a world we offer a glimpse into in Our Man in Moscow. The film for BBC Panorama charts a year in the life of the BBC Moscow bureau, as the Kremlin continues to wage war on Ukraine, tighten the screws at home, and build a relationship with President Trump.

The squirrel barb doesn't bother me. Squirrels are cute. And they have thick skin - something a foreign correspondent needs here. But enemy of Russia? That hurts.

I've spent more than thirty years living and working in Moscow. As a young man, I fell in love with the language, literature, and music of Russia. Like that snowman, the Russia I knew seemed to melt away in February 2022. With its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the world's largest country embarked on the darkest of paths.

In the days that followed, repressive new laws adopted here silenced dissent and punished criticism of the authorities. BBC platforms were blocked. Suddenly reporting from Russia felt like walking a tightrope over a legal minefield.

In 2023, the arrest of a Wall Street Journal reporter showed that a foreign passport was no keep out of jail card. Evan Gershkovich, a US citizen, was convicted on espionage charges.

In the BBC's Moscow office, we're a much smaller team now. Some contributors who used to speak to us are now reluctant to do so; at a time of heightened international tension, being associated with the BBC isn't worth the risk.

Yet along with other Western broadcasters that have retained a presence in Russia, we still receive invitations to Kremlin events, and sometimes I get the chance to quiz President Putin.

With Donald Trump back in the White House, Moscow feels that Washington is paying it more respect. At the Alaska summit, America's president rolled out the red carpet for Russia's leader.

It hasn't all gone Moscow's way. The Kremlin has limited criticism of the US, instead focusing on the European Union and the UK.

Over the last four years, there have been moments that shock me. Conversations with everyday Russians often reveal a complex web of feelings about their government and the war. We have swung from hopes of East-West friendship to a four-year-long war in Europe that has been devastating for Ukraine.

How this war ends will affect not only Ukraine's future and that of Russia but the future of Europe too.