Moscow – December 4, 2025 – Russia’s state communications watchdog Roskomnadzor confirmed on Thursday that it has fully blocked Apple’s FaceTime video-calling service across the country, citing the app’s alleged use in organizing terrorist activities, recruiting perpetrators, and carrying out fraud against Russian citizens.
In an official statement, the agency said users had already been experiencing disruptions with FaceTime since September, but the restrictions were now formalized nationwide. Independent checks by Russian media and users confirmed that attempts to place or receive FaceTime calls from inside Russia now fail completely, while non-calling features remain partially accessible for the time being.
The move is the latest in an accelerating campaign against foreign messaging and calling platforms. In the past week alone, Russia has blocked or severely restricted Snapchat, Roblox, and now FaceTime, while voice and video calls on WhatsApp and Telegram have been throttled in dozens of regions since August. Users report metallic buzzing, dropped connections, and prolonged delays that render real-time conversation nearly impossible.
Roskomnadzor has justified the crackdown as a necessary measure to combat terrorism, sabotage, and large-scale telephone fraud. Critics, however, see a clearer pattern: the systematic degradation of encrypted Western services to drive millions of users toward the state-backed domestic alternative, MAX.
Launched in March 2025 by VK (the company behind Russia’s largest social network VKontakte), MAX is being aggressively positioned as a homegrown “super app.” It combines messaging, high-quality video calls, file sharing, and mobile payments, with future integration planned for the state services portal Gosuslugi. Unlike its Western competitors, MAX does not offer end-to-end encryption and requires a Russian or Belarusian phone number for registration, effectively excluding foreigners and making all communications accessible to authorities.
Adoption has been turbocharged by a combination of carrots and sticks. Since September 1, every new smartphone and tablet sold in Russia must come with MAX pre-installed. State institutions have received direct orders to migrate: Moscow’s Housing and Utilities Ministry has already moved all neighborhood and resident chats from WhatsApp and Telegram groups to MAX channels. More than twenty regions have begun piloting the app in schools, and St. Petersburg State University now proudly calls itself “Russia’s first fully MAX university.” State television, billboards, bank apps, and even emergency loudspeakers urge citizens to switch.
The numbers reflect the pressure campaign’s success. In June, MAX had barely 1 million users. By October, the figure exceeded 50 million, with the platform handling half a billion calls and two billion messages in a single month. Telecom operators in occupied Crimea now bundle unlimited MAX traffic with mobile plans, further entrenching the service.
For ordinary Russians, the consequences are immediate and painful. Families separated by the war, émigrés living abroad, and residents of occupied territories who still use Ukrainian phone numbers are rapidly losing reliable ways to stay in touch. Social media is filled with despairing posts: “First WhatsApp calls died, then Snapchat, now FaceTime. How am I supposed to see my grandchildren?” one user wrote. Another asked bitterly, “What’s next, regular phone calls?”
VPN usage has surged, but Roskomnadzor’s upgraded filtering systems now detect and block three additional protocols that were previously reliable workarounds. Independent monitoring groups warn that Russia is moving toward a complete “sovereign internet” where only approved, fully monitorable services function normally.
Digital-rights advocates argue the terrorism and fraud justifications are largely pretextual. “The real goal is simple,” said Stanislav Shakirov of Roskomsvoboda. “Push everyone into an ecosystem where every conversation, every video call, every transferred ruble can be watched in real time.”
As winter deepens and another wave of restrictions looms, millions of Russians face a stark choice: accept the new, state-controlled communication reality of MAX, or scramble for ever-more-fragile ways to stay connected to the outside world.
