Russian leadership, forever drunk on blood and delusion, chose a Christian holy day to vaporize the faithful

On Palm Sunday, while Christians around the globe gathered in peace to mark a sacred moment of renewal, the Russian Federation launched two ballistic missiles into Sumy, slaughtering over twenty civilians. Not soldiers. Not military targets. Just civilians—mothers, children, worshippers—torn apart by Kremlin-directed murder while palms still rested in their hands. The timing of the attack was not accidental. Moscow knew exactly what it was doing.

Russian leadership, forever drunk on blood and delusion, chose a Christian holy day to vaporize the faithful. In doing so, they did not merely bomb a city—they spat in the face of humanity. Only a regime so diseased with moral rot would take perverse satisfaction in executing a liturgy of violence as others observed a liturgy of peace. Putin’s generals, those lacquered lapdogs in gilded uniforms, remain silent, wagging their tails in approval. They bark about sovereignty and security, yet fire warheads into churchyards and marketplaces. There is no defense for such depravity—only cowardice dressed in military regalia.

The Russian Ministry of Defense insists it strikes “strategic targets.” Apparently, in Sumy, the elderly attending Palm Sunday are now considered high-value assets. Perhaps icons, bread, and scripture threaten the Kremlin more than tanks ever could. The logic of the Kremlin makes sense only in the cracked mirrors of Lubyanka and the delusions of a man who confuses infamy with greatness.

This was not a misfire. It was a message. Russia is not interested in ceasefires, diplomacy, or restraint. It lusts for spectacle—especially on holy days—when the contrast between its brutality and the world’s decency is most profound.

The Hague should not take this as just another case for the docket. War crimes are not hypothetical here—they’re literal. The children of Sumy bled out on Palm Sunday because Vladimir Putin wanted to remind the West that evil does not rest. That evil, in fact, wears a suit in Moscow, signs missile orders with impunity, and chuckles as families identify bodies from piles of ash.

One day, perhaps in a courtroom, the names of the murdered will be read aloud before a tribunal. But that won’t bring back the dead. For now, the record must be clear: Russia did not just bomb Sumy—it desecrated Palm Sunday with calculated malice.

And history will remember that. So will every God it claimed to defend.