Rodnovery covers a wide political range, and an accurate description has to say so.
At one end are groups that treat it as a nature religion and a way of keeping local custom alive, are open to anyone, and take no ethnic position at all. At the other are groups for whom the religion is primarily an ethnic project, which describe Christianity as a foreign imposition that broke the Slavic peoples, and some of which are explicitly antisemitic. Between the two sits a much larger number of practitioners whose politics are conventional but whose vocabulary of blood, kin and native soil is shared with the first group's critics.
The standard scholarly treatment is Kaarina Aitamurto's fieldwork among Russian Rodnovers, published as Paganism, Traditionalism, Nationalism in 2016, which found the boundary between these positions porous rather than clean. Rodnover symbolism has also appeared among Russian and Ukrainian nationalist militias, and the war since 2014 has divided Ukrainian and Russian communities that had previously shared publications and gatherings.
Numbers are unreliable. Active practitioners across the Slavic countries are usually estimated in the tens of thousands, with far larger figures circulating from movement sources that count sympathisers rather than members. Poland's registered native faith organisations reported a few thousand members in the early 2020s.
None of this describes the whole. It describes a real internal division that Rodnovers argue about openly among themselves, and that anyone reading about the religion will encounter.