When Derek Huffman relocated his family from Arizona to Russia last year, he was in search of a safer and more promising future. Accompanied by his wife DeAnna and three of their six children, Derek was eager to leave behind what he viewed as a deteriorating society in America.

Through a YouTube channel documenting their journey, Derek voiced concerns over the ‘indoctrination of children’ with LGBT ideologies, the alarming crime rates in cities, and neighborhoods he claimed were ‘overrun by immigrants’.

‘Russia was really our only option’, he explained to his audience, describing Vladimir Putin’s nation as a stronghold of traditional Christian family principles, which seemed to be vanishing from the America he once cherished.

The Huffman family is part of a growing trend. Russian authorities report roughly 150 applications per month from Americans and other Westerners for Moscow’s new ‘shared values’ visa since its introduction in mid-2024.

This program, mockingly referred to as the ‘anti-woke’ visa by some critics, provides three-year residency permits to foreigners who promise to uphold Russia’s ‘spiritual and moral values’, potentially leading to citizenship in the future.

From the vibrant suburbs of Moscow to the remote towns of eastern Siberia, a steady stream of Western settlers have arrived, brandishing Bibles and holding onto aspirations of raising their children in what they view as a bastion of Christian stability.

But behind the carefully produced YouTube videos and glowing reports on Russian state TV, the reality for many is far darker.

Investigations suggest their ‘success stories’ are quietly stage-managed by the Kremlin, their channels boosted by state broadcaster Russia Today’s propaganda machine.

Away from the cameras, émigrés face bureaucracy, corruption, crushing financial struggles — and sometimes, the battlefield.

For Derek Huffman, settling in Russia proved harder than expected. The local school system was a maze of red tape, and the family’s savings dwindled fast.

To secure Russian citizenship — and with it, access to benefits, jobs, and housing — Derek took a desperate gamble: he signed up to fight in Ukraine.

‘The big reason I’m doing it is for the citizenship,’ he admitted in one video. ‘I’m earning our spot and respect in our new country.’

A viewer mailed him a set of body armor. In July, calling home from the frontlines, Huffman tried to justify his decision.

‘To all the people saying I’m a Christian, yet I joined an army to go kill Ukrainians — I don’t relish the idea of taking life,’ he said. 

‘But I’m doing what I feel is right.’

Ukrainian outlets branded him a stooge, a pawn in Russia’s illegal war. To his followers, he insisted he was ‘doing something extraordinary’ instead of living like a ‘sheep’.

But his fate now hangs in the balance, with Ukrainian drones and artillery targeting foreign mercenaries like him.

Unconfirmed reports suggest he has already died in combat — a claim his wife rejects. Others arrived with more fanfare.

Leo and Chantelle Hare, a devout Christian couple from Texas who homeschooled their children, declared themselves ‘moral migrants’ when they moved to Russia in 2023.

Their asylum ceremony was broadcast on state media, complete with captions boasting that ‘yet another American family chose our country … where traditional values are protected by the state.’

‘I feel like I’ve been put on an ark of safety for my family,’ Leo said solemnly. ‘I want to thank President Putin for making Russia a good place for families.’

‘In a small way it feels like I just got married to Russia,’ Chantelle added, smiling at officials.

But their dream soon soured. On YouTube, the Hares chronicled a botched cryptocurrency investment, police indifference to their complaints, and the slow erosion of their finances.

Their grand plan to launch a caramelized nut business fell flat. Today, they scrape by, still searching for stability in Russia, where workers earn roughly five times less than in the US.

The struggles of the Huffmans and Hares contrast starkly with the glossy image promoted by Russian state media.

Expatriates like Tim Kirby, a longtime US émigré, host slick video blogs extolling Russia’s virtues.

Kirby has even announced plans for an ‘American Village’ — a rural enclave where disillusioned US families can live their conservative dream together.

Another YouTuber, Stephen Shores from Georgia, tells audiences they can find ‘The American Dream’ in Russia, boasting of affordable housing, safe streets, free speech, and a culture that ‘puts family first’.

But western analysts point out the obvious: many of these influencers are supported, directly or indirectly, by the Kremlin. Their ad-free, high-production-value channels mirror the techniques of RT, Russia’s global propaganda outlet.

They burnish the image of a country that foreign research groups, including Freedom House and Transparency International, rank as among the world’s worst for graft, cronyism and one-man rule.   

The so-called ‘anti-woke’ visa was signed into law by Putin in August 2024, giving residency rights to people from 47 ‘unfriendly’ countries, including the US, Britain, and most of the EU.

On paper, it promises a simpler path to citizenship for those who ‘share Russia’s spiritual and moral values.’

In practice, applicants face the same tangle of bureaucracy that ensnares Russians themselves: frozen bank accounts, endless paperwork, and demands for bribes.

Maria Butina, the convicted Russian agent once jailed in the US for infiltrating Republican circles, now sits in the Russian parliament and helps ‘friendly foreigners’ settle.

She told the Financial Times that most applicants come from Germany, France, and the US.

Butina insists few face difficulties as extreme as Derek Huffman’s battlefield gamble.

Still, behind her rosy picture, émigrés whisper about scams, broken promises, and isolation in a country where language and culture can be brutally alien.

The plight of these would-be pioneers echoes that of higher-profile exiles before them.

Edward Snowden, the American intelligence leaker, has spent more than a decade effectively trapped in Russia — unable to return home without facing prosecution, yet never fully embraced by the Kremlin.

Even Asma al-Assad, the UK-born wife of Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad, filed for divorce after the couple fled Damascus for Moscow in December 2024, disillusioned by their supposed refuge, according to an unconfirmed report.

For Putin, however, the symbolism matters more than the individuals.

By welcoming disaffected Americans, the Kremlin can showcase Russia as the last defender of ‘family values’ against a decadent, dangerous West. 

Each émigré family becomes a propaganda tool, proof — at least on paper — that people are voting with their feet.

The reality is of course much darker and does not make it onto Russia television.

The Huffmans’ move has cost them financial security and put Derek’s life in mortal danger. The Hares are mired in disputes with shady business partners. Others face endless bureaucracy, wary neighbors, and the grim realities of life in a country where corruption and poverty are entrenched.

The Hares, once radiant on state TV, now look weary in their videos, their dreams of building a new business replaced by complaints about police corruption and housing shortages. The two families did not immediately answer the Daily Mail’s email requests.

Even the most polished influencers, like Tim Kirby, cannot disguise the cracks: complaints about banking restrictions, soaring food prices, and the difficulty of raising children in a country at war.

Russia may bill itself as the ark of conservative values. But for the Americans who believed in that promise, the rescue vessel can feel more like a sinking ship.

Ironically, while a trickle of westerners moves to Russia, hundreds of thousands of Russians have fled since the start of the Ukraine war — young professionals, students, and entrepreneurs desperate to escape conscription, sanctions, and isolation.

For every family chasing Putin’s dream of ‘traditional values,’ there are scores of Russians fleeing the same regime, convinced their future lies in the West.