Art is not Geopolitics Only in an Ideal World

The Venice Paradox: When Art Becomes Geopolitics$

For decades, the art world has defended the idea that culture should remain separate from politics. Artistic spaces must transcend conflict, ideology, and war.

That argument would be compelling in an ideal world. But of course, we do not live in an ideal world.

At the Venice Biennale, nations do not simply exhibit art. They project identity, legitimacy, prestige, and power.

Moreover, even if art could exist outside politics in certain contexts — in the solitude of an atelier, in the work of an artist with no political intent, in a piece contemplated purely on its own terms, as in "art for art's sake" — a Biennale is not simply “Art.” It is an international exhibition shaped by hierarchies, institutions, funding structures, geography, diplomacy, prestige, and power. It is inseparable from the political and economic dynamics that underpin any major global platform.

When a county exhibits in such an exhibition, it doesn't send its art per se, but rather organises a representation based on a certain narrative and the performance of that national presence. That is not merely art.

The return of Russia to the 2026 Venice Biennale demonstrates how impossible it has become to separate art from geopolitics at a time when states actively weaponise culture, narratives, media ecosystems, and symbolic legitimacy.

This year, Moscow’s return to Venice comes while the war against Ukraine continues, with war crimes, mass destruction of cities, attacks on civilians, and systematic targeting of Ukrainian identity and heritage happening daily. According to Ukrainian and international cultural organisations, more than 346 Ukrainian artists have been killed, over 1,700 cultural heritage sites damaged or destroyed, and more than 35,000 museum artefacts looted since the full-scale invasion began.

The controversy goes beyond symbolism.

The commissioner of the Russian Pavilion, Anastasia Karneeva, has been widely criticised for her proximity to the Russian political and military establishment. Multiple reports identify her as the daughter of a senior executive at Rostec, Russia’s state-owned defence conglomerate, which is deeply linked to the country’s military-industrial complex and sanctioned sectors.

With these considerations in mind, the argument that “art is neutral” begins to collapse under the weight of reality.

Modern authoritarian power does not operate only through tanks, missiles, or territorial conquest. It operates through legitimacy. Through narratives. Through cultural presence. Through access to elite Western institutions. Through normalisation.

Russia’s strategy toward Europe has long gone well beyond the battlefield in Ukraine. Western intelligence agencies and governments have repeatedly warned about cyberattacks, electoral interference, disinformation campaigns, sabotage operations, infrastructure attacks, and influence networks aimed at weakening European cohesion and democratic systems. The Russian Federation devotes massive efforts and purpose-built institutions to attacking the West, in a one-way, enemy-driven dynamic that keeps the Russians from the benefits that investing in their development would bring.

Against that backdrop, participation in one of the world’s most prestigious cultural events ceases to be a purely artistic question. It becomes geopolitical. And this is the Venice Paradox, that happens when art becomes geopolitics.

However, this does not mean artists themselves should automatically be treated as extensions of the state. Nor does it mean cultural dialogue should disappear. But democratic societies increasingly face a difficult question: can open cultural systems survive if authoritarian regimes are allowed to instrumentalise openness itself?

The Venice Biennale controversy matters precisely because it forces Europe’s cultural institutions to confront a new reality: soft power is no longer soft.

Culture is infrastructure. Narrative is a strategy. Art is diplomacy.

And in the twenty-first century, aesthetics and geopolitics are becoming impossible to separate.

By the Dasein House Editorial Desk