CANYON LAKE, California -- At a city council meeting in October 2021, Russian national Oleg Zabugorsky appeared shy as he accepted a "citizen of the month" award from officials of Canyon Lake, California, for his community service.
Zabugorsky, whose real name is Oleg Timoshchuk, had donated dozens of hours of his time to produce a 56-minute documentary about the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks on the United States from the viewpoint of neighbors in the gated community 120 kilometers southeast of Los Angeles.
He interviewed local leaders including the mayor and the county police chief, and the film was presented at a community event on the 20th anniversary of the attacks.
"I really wish you would make the time to introduce yourself to [Oleg]. He is an amazing citizen of our city," Kasey Castillo, a Canyon Lake council member, said to those gathered at the meeting as she announced the award.
For his part, Zabugorsky told those in attendance that he felt like part of a "big family" in Canyon Lake, where he had been living with his own family for the past 11 months.
He and his wife, Anna, appeared to be living the American dream: two kids, an SUV, and a large lakeside home on a palm-lined cul-de-sac in a gated community in Southern California.
Zabugorsky in an Instagram post from May 15, 2022, after his return to Russia from the United States
Zabugorsky could often be seen around Canyon Lake filming local events for his YouTube blog. His children, Pavel and Maria, were frequent guests at the homes of neighbors on their street.
In a video advertisement to promote Zabugorsky's video services, a Canyon Lake businessman and client described the Russian as a "man of his word and a man of honor."
Five months later, Zabugorsky was gone: Without telling his landlord, his neighbors, or his many friends and acquaintances in California, he packed up what belongings he could fit into his white SUV and left Canyon Lake for good one night with his wife and children.
Sometime between March 8 and March 11, 2022, after seven uninterrupted years in the United States, Zabugorsky and his family made the long flight back to Russia at a time when tens of thousands of Russians were fleeing their own country following its full-scale invasion of Ukraine two weeks earlier.
Zabugorsky's Russian-speaking acquaintances in California first learned of his departure when he posted a video to his Facebook page: a news report that aired on Russian state TV on March 13.
The 2 1/2-minute segment, titled Russophobia Forces Immigrants To Return Home, featured the Zabugorsky family back in Moscow -- supposedly just hours after their arrival.
The propaganda piece -- clearly prepared in advance as it contained plenty of material from his California video archive -- was the perfect counternarrative to the largest exodus of citizens from Russia since the tumultuous 1990s.
Interviewed in a modest Moscow-area apartment and the surrounding neighborhood, the Zabugorskys told Russian viewers that their life had become unbearable in the United States and that their children were teased at their American school, including being called "Soviet spies."
The segment begins with the couple hugging and Zabugorsky saying, "We're home now, guys" -- in a whisper, so as not to wake the children after the long flight. The only visible remnants of his time in California: A hipster handlebar mustache and a tropical-style shirt that looks more Margaritaville than Moscow.
The house Zabugorsky and his family rented in Canyon Lake, California
At one point in the report, as he pays the cashier at a grocery store, Zabugorsky says he is happy to be handling "our Russian rubles" once more. At the end, his daughter recites a verse from a patriotic Vladimir Nabokov poem, Motherland, that says Russians abroad all dream of Russia.
The family's acquaintances in California were dumbfounded.
Several people who knew him in the United States told RFE/RL that not only had Zabugorsky made no mention of "Russophobia" to them prior to his departure, but his children had not attended American school since at least moving to Canyon Lake.
Patriot Games?
Within days of his arrival in Moscow, Zabugorsky had posted videos of himself wearing clothing adorned with the letter Z, a symbol of support for the invasion of Ukraine; praising Yevgeny Prigozhin, the sanctioned founder of the mercenary group Wagner; calling for "Stalinist repression" against "domestic enemies"; swearing allegiance to President Vladimir Putin; and denouncing Russians living in America as unpatriotic to their homeland.
Those calls were in line with government propaganda and policy -- and with the tenor of the times in Russia, where the state started seeking harder than ever to silence dissent after the invasion. For example, Putin's government would soon begin sentencing opposition figures to some of the harshest prison terms since the Soviet era.
More recently, Zabugorsky trashed American life on a Russian state TV program hosted by Anna Chapman, one of the 10 "sleeper" spies who were caught in the United States in 2010 and sent back to Russia in a swap.
New York newspapers are on display featuring photos of suspected Russian spies Anna Chapman (left) and Richard and Cynthia Murphy at a newsstand in New York in 2010.
Zabugorsky's metamorphosis on his blog from a quirky family man who steered away from divisive political topics into a virulent Russian nationalist parroting Putin's poisonous remarks on Ukrainian identity, LGBT rights, and other issues led some acquaintances and former friends to question who he really was and what he was doing in the United States.
How could a little-known Russian blogger in the United States land back in Russia, and on Kremlin-controlled TV, overnight? What did he do with all the unpublished videos he had made at Russian-speaking community events in California? And why did he rush to leave the United States for a country with growing repression and a faltering economy that his children didn't know?
Alexander Couprin, a former Soviet police captain who defected to the United States in 1988 and now lives in California, told RFE/RL he began looking into Zabugorsky's background after the latter's appearance on Russian state TV.
Couprin and Katernya Terets, a California-based photographer from Ukraine, both posted about Zabugorsky's sudden return to Moscow on their Facebook pages, generating dozens of comments from members of the state's Russian-speaking community who knew him or came into contact with him.
Some wondered whether he was an informant paid to collect information on Russian-speaking expatriates in the United States. Others said Zabugorsky was a swindler, claiming he borrowed money from friends and acquaintances before leaving. Still others speculated he was offered money to return in exchange for denouncing life in the United States.
He and a friend have hinted at the former, though some chalk Zabugorsky's activities up to an effort to build up his persona and enhance his importance in the eyes of others. RFE/RL found no indication of any investigation into his activities in the United States.
Zabugorsky did not respond to e-mails from RFE/RL.
His saga played out amid a series of U.S. probes, dating back to 2016, of Russians in the United States who were charged with covertly acting on behalf of the Russian government to influence public opinion and build relationships with prominent U.S. political and business leaders as well as Russian expatriates.
Maria Butina, who sought to infiltrate conservative political circles before and after the 2016 U.S. presidential election, pleaded guilty in December 2018 to conspiring to act as an unregistered agent for Russia. She spent 18 months in custody before her release from prison and return to Russia, where she is now a lawmaker with the Kremlin-controlled United Russia party.
Elena Branson, a dual U.S.-Russian citizen, was charged in 2022 with the same crime for her work cultivating members of the Russian diaspora as well as influential Americans. In its statement announcing the charges against Branson, who fled to Moscow to avoid arrest, the Justice Department said recruitment of members of the Russian diaspora is a Kremlin foreign policy priority.
Driven From Russia?
Zabugorsky was born Oleg Timoshchuk in 1971 in Poltava, Ukraine, to Ukrainian parents, but the family soon moved to the Novgorod region of Russia, where his father served in the Soviet military, according to a Ukrainian cousin, Maria Fesenko.
At some point after his own compulsory service in the Soviet armed forces, Zabugorsky settled in Moscow in the 1990s, eventually opening an auto detailing business at the end of the decade as Russian car demand exploded. He enhanced his skill set during a stay in the United States in 2000.
Zabugorsky in an Instagram post from March 30, 2022, after his return to Russia from the United States
In an interview with a Russian auto industry magazine in 2012 that appears to be a paid advertisement, Zabugorsky said his business expanded to selling U.S. paintless dent removal equipment and teaching others how to use it.
In multiple posts on social media as well as reported remarks to acquaintances, Zabugorsky claimed he was forced to leave the country after his business was raided, but some doubt the veracity of his story.
"He never had any details, so it was like basically a smokescreen," said Tatiana Tatarinova, professor and endowed chair of computational biology at the University of La Verne in California, who knew Zabugorsky.
By his own account, Zabugorsky had a drinking problem until he gave up alcohol in 2013, when his son. Pavel, was born to Anna, his fifth wife. Anna was 17 when Zabugorsky proposed to her, one month after they met online. The pair had Maria in early 2015.
Russia's economy was suffering a sharp recession at the time. The ruble lost half its value versus the dollar between January 2014 and January 2015 amid tumbling oil prices and U.S. sanctions, punishing importers like Zabugorsky.
Zabugorsky may have been experiencing financial problems. On March 24, 2014, he borrowed 1.24 million rubles ($34,000 at the time) from Moscow Credit Bank and also received a credit card with a 100,000-ruble limit ($2,800). He was gone a year later, failing to repay the bank. Moscow Credit Bank sued Zabugorsky for 2.7 million rubles, including principal, interest, and fines -- but he was gone by then.
Upon arrival in the United States, Zabugorsky initially settled in Colorado, where he worked for a car repair business.
Around that time, he also launched a video blog called Zabugrom_Life and began calling himself Oleg Zabugorsky. Zabugrom means "abroad" and the assumed name has the same connotation.
Zabugorsky filmed his life in the United States targeting a Russian-speaking audience at home and tried to build up a following, seemingly for profit.
In one of his earliest videos promoting his blog, he mentioned Russia's struggling economy as the reason for his departure to the United States.
However, despite his efforts over the years, his blog never caught on with Russians. Of the 923 videos he posted to his YouTube page, fewer than 20 percent have more than 1,000 views each.
Zabugorsky eventually had a falling out with Mark Tsurkis, the Russian-speaking owner of the Colorado repair business sometime around March 2017 and was evicted from his rental home for failure to pay $1,500, court records show.
In a call with RFE/RL, Tsurkis said he fired Zabugorsky for stealing but declined to answer any more questions.
Zabugorsky soon moved to California, taking up various jobs and offering his services as a videographer. He soon became a fixture at Russian-speaking events in California, interviewing people on video, sometimes for his blog, and organizing gatherings at the beach.
"He was literally at every Russian-community party. He was taking videos of everybody, but he was hardly posting any of them," Tatarinova said.
In 2018, he found more stable work training people -- many of them former U.S. service members -- in dent repair at The Ding King Institute in Costa Mesa, California. He also filmed videos for the institute and recruited Russian speakers to their program. Ding King founder Todd Sudeck, whom Zabugorsky described as a "partner," did not return calls or e-mails seeking comment.
In November 2020, he moved to a large home in Canyon Lake that had a sand-filled patio by the water. The home cost about $50,000 a year to rent, including utilities.
He set up a studio in the house for filming and editing with equipment worth thousands of dollars.
He and his wife threw several events for Russian-speaking friends and acquaintances at his new home, including one that featured a live performance by Yuri Naumov, a blues musician who left the USSR after harassment by the KGB.
Zabugorsky promised to hold such events regularly, though he ended up hosting no more than three, according to neighbors. It may not have been for a lack of trying.
Acquaintances said he often invited them to Canyon Lake. Some turned him down due to the long travel time, which could be three hours from Los Angeles during rush-hour times, others because his character turned them off.
In Couprin's view, Zabugorsky "desperately tried to be the center of the Russian community" in the Los Angeles area. "He worked hard to get acquainted with as many people as possible."
And not just people in the Russian-speaking community. Zabugorsky attended a couple of the informal meetings that Canyon Lake council members hold with residents over coffee to discuss any concerns or issues. Typically, only a handful of residents stop by, mainly homeowners with a vested interest -- not renters.
His lifestyle -- the Canyon Lake home, an SUV, and frequent weekend getaways -- raised some eyebrows among acquaintances. His blogging, which he spent considerable time on, did not appear to bring in any money, and Anna did not work.
In a 2021 Instagram post, his said he and his family had been homeless at one point during his time in the United States -- possibly after he lost his job in Colorado -- and he had been "without documents, without money and the opportunity to get work legally."
However, in addition to his work at The Ding King Institute and freelance video services, he also continued to clean and polish cars on the side, claiming in one post to have earned $1,500 for a few hours of work on a luxury auto. His auto detailing work appeared to be well received.
In December 2020, he registered a company in California called Fireball North America and stated its line of business was in the automotive sector. Fireball is a South Korean luxury brand for car care. It is unclear what, if anything, the business Zabugorsky registered does.
That same month, he gave his YouTube followers a tour of Illinois-based Windy City Organics, a natural-food manufacturer founded by a Russian speaker whom Zabugorsky also described as a "partner."
Political Views
Tatarinova said that in her interactions with Zabugorsky, he did not appear to be overtly political in person, never quite showing where he stood on issues.
In the same 2021 Instagram post where he mentioned a period of homelessness in the United States, he wrote that VVP -- shorthand for Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin -- "created all the conditions so that people could not receive protection in the Motherland from the service of devils," the latter a reference to corrupt Russian officials.
In one video blog from October 2018, Zabugorsky criticized Russian authorities for cracking down on pro-democracy protesters in St. Peterburg, including beating women and children, and said Russians should emigrate if they so desire.
Two years later, as Belarusians were beaten by police for rising up against dictator Alyaksandr Lukashenka in 2020, Zabugorsky allegedly took a completely different position, according to a Belarusian woman in California in reply to Terets' Facebook post.
Russian President Vladimir Putin chairs a meeting with members of the government, via video link in Moscow on June 21.
Zabugorsky's tone and appearance began to change around that time. He covered more political topics on his blog, including protests in the United States in 2020, and grew the handlebar mustache he was still wearing when he returned to Russia.
It was also a time of deepening U.S.-Russia tension. In the spring of 2021 and again that autumn, Moscow built up its forces on Ukraine's border.
He chose to have his children study online in Russian at home, with one acquaintance saying in a Facebook comment that Zabugorsky didn't want his children exposed to American values. Despite having lived nearly all their lives in the United States, neighbors and acquaintances said his children spoke English poorly, a possible sign he did not intend to say.
Two acquaintances told RFE/RL that Zabugorsky told them he had been seeking permanent legal residency in the United States. However, he denied this in a video on his YouTube channel following his return to Russia.
The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) and other U.S. agencies handling immigration issues do not discuss individual cases. DHS would only say that Zabugorsky had been in the United States on a work visa and that he voluntarily left the country.
Even as he increasingly expressed anti-U.S. feelings on his blog, Zabugorsky showed no intention of leaving the United States before Russia launched its large-scale invasion of Ukraine on February 24, 2022, people who knew him said.
He had been inquiring about renting warehouse space in Los Angeles as late as January 2022, an acquaintance who works as a real estate agent told RFE/RL.
Then, in February, Zabugorsky announced he would be joining RuHerald, a Russian-language website for expats in the United States and those seeking to travel or move to the country.
The site had been in existence for years, offering a mix of travel and news, but was not regularly updated or, seemingly, successful. Zabugorsky said he planned to expand the site to cover more topics and launch video.
He said his goal in joining RuHerald was to "unite" the Russian-speaking community and asked friends and subscribers for "financial help" to build out the media platform.
He left the United States three weeks later.
Tatarinova said there were rumors he was able to raise thousands of dollars for the website though RFE/RL has not been able to confirm that.
Vadim Volgin, a self-described "investor" living in the United States who had long been affiliated with RuHerald, did not return calls or messages for comment.
[Several days after the initial publication of this report and a Russian version, Volgin contacted the reporters. In a phone interview, he said Zabugorsky failed to raise money for RuHerald's expansion or complete video projects as agreed. He also said he was surprised by Zabugorsky's seeming metamorphosis and sudden departure, and has had no contact with him since he left the United States.]
Sudden Departure
On March 8, 2022, Zabugorsky traveled to Anaheim, about 80 kilometers northwest of Canyon Lake, to represent Windy City Organics at the Natural Products Expo West convention, which ran from March 8-12.
He posted a photo of himself that day in a blue Oxford dress shirt with a conference badge around his neck and palm trees behind him. Within 72 hours, he and his family had packed up their belongings and left the country. Executives at Windy City Organics did not return calls and messages sent via social media.
In an interview with RFE/RL outside his house, Fernando, who lived two doors down from Zabugorsky, said he saw the Russian filming on his balcony with a Soviet flag as a backdrop one day in March 2022 before gathering up his stuff. He never saw him or his white SUV again.
"I didn't even see him move," Patricia Thompson, who lives directly across the street from Zabugorsky, told RFE/RL in bewilderment.
The Zabugorsky family left many items behind like clothing and toys, possibly indicating a rushed exit, and the owner of the home held a garage sale to clear out the house.
Andrea, who lived next door to Zabugorsky, told RFE/RL in an interview outside their home that he seemed "very friendly" and had unexpectedly given their son a gift on his birthday.
Days before his flight to Moscow, Zabugorsky told his Russian audience that Americans will smile at you one minute and then shoot in the back with a Colt .45 the next, but did not explain what led him to suddenly hold such a view. The comments surprised his neighbors.
"This community did nothing but welcome him with open arms," Andrea said.
Similar verbal attacks awaited his former friends and acquaintances in the Russian-speaking community in California.
A week after his return to Russia, Zabugorsky claimed in a video post that while he was in the United States, he had been "collecting information, collecting data that I and my country need. Yes, including collecting information about those of you who shared [views] with me, betting that I am a scoundrel and traitor just like you."
He also called prominent Russians who fled the country following the war "traitors" despite having claimed in the past that he fled Russia.
At the same time, he reposted to his Facebook page a comment by his friend, Oleg Tsvetkov, who welcomed Zabugorsky back from a "seven-year special assignment" in the United States.
Tatarinova, who along with Terets dug into Zabugorsky's background, said in hindsight it appeared he was gathering information about the entire Russian community.
Zabugorsky's departure came shortly after the United States -- on March 8, 2022 -- charged Branson with failing to register with the Justice Department as a Russian agent.
Branson was directed and paid by the Kremlin to, among other things, host events designed to consolidate the Russian-speaking youth community in the United States, according to the indictment.
Thоugh they seemed to have a similar agenda of bringing together the Russian-speaking diaspora, there is no indication that Zabugorsky knew Branson or was aware of the charges against her.
"In my view, Zabugorsky is a low IQ individual who made his money by sending group pictures of local Russians sitting at his table to his GRU/FSB or other curators," Couprin told RFE/RL. "He was [a] low value source; he knew it and tried to compensate [for] it with his unusually high energy."
The FSB is the Russian Federal Security Service, the main successor to the Soviet KGB, while GRU is the common acronym for Russia's military intelligence agency.
Evgeniy Rubtsov, another acquaintance, suggested someone made Zabugorsky an attractive offer to return that included criticizing the United States, adding it appeared that Zabugorsky had "quickly landed on his feet" in Russia despite his long absence and past problems with debt.
None of the more than a dozen people who knew Zabugorsky and spoke with RFE/RL has been contacted by U.S. law enforcement, they said, indicating there is no investigation into his work in the United States.
Fesenko, Zabugorsky's cousin, said he probably returned home because he saw an opportunity to capitalize on the anti-American sentiment in Russia.
"He is very ambitious," she said.
Since arriving in Moscow, Zabugorsky -- aside from his two stints on national TV -- has been featured in several online media, where he is described as a "Hollywood producer" who has worked with Mel Gibson and Kim Kardashian, a wild exaggeration of his filmmaking endeavors.
He has also been featured twice on TV in the Moscow suburb of Lyubertsy, where he opened a bathhouse, and on Avrora Radio, а Kremlin propaganda station, which identified him as a "political analyst."
Russian media outlets refer to him by his Russian-sounding assumed name, Zabugorsky, rather than by the Ukrainian-sounding family name in his passport.
"Russia needed a hero" in the early days of the war as citizens fled the country, and Zabugorsky seized the moment, Fesenko said.