The Bolotnaya Case, initially
against twenty-seven participants in protests on May 6, 2012, the day before
the third inauguration of President Vladimir Putin, is the most important legal
development in recent Russian history.
Transforming utterly insane allegations against political activists into
legal and historical fact, Russian courts are continuing their long-established
role as blunt weapons in the Kremlin assault on society.
The first criminal conviction
for participation in the Bolotnaya protests came in November 2012, and the show
(pun intended) has been going ever since.
Investigators have openly and repeatedly called the prejudice rich,
evidence light case “political” while speaking on the record anonymously to
Russian newspapers.
Prosecutors have now
successfully made the case that using two prominent leftists as proxies, a
Georgian politician dishing out American money was the architect of the May
2012 anti-Putin protests that brought tens of thousands to the streets of
Moscow. The Moscow City Court, in a
ridiculous sentencing hearing, all but came out and said that the same is true
for the entire White
Ribbon protest movement that saw hundreds of thousands demonstrate in
Moscow and elsewhere over the course of several months.
Before anything else,
remember that the 20,000-strong, May 2012 protest in question – officially called
the March of Millions – was actually sanctioned by the local government, which
is not always true for demonstrations here. It is true that the March – despite
being smaller in size relative to other
demonstrations around the same time – turned violent. However, it is generally acknowledged, except
by the Russian leadership, that the violence on Bolotnaya was a result of police
aggression and provocation.
Now, the courts are fixating
on the March in a bid to rewrite the history of the entire 2011-2012 White
Ribbon movement as a series of free-for-all riots orchestrated with foreign
funding. The Bolotnaya revisionism is
aided by the Kremlin media apparatus, which for the vast majority of Russians
is – not being hyperbolic here – the source of all civil political information.
In February, the Moscow City
Court convicted eight Bolotnaya defendants on charges that they participated in
riots and used force against “representatives of authority.” Seven of the defendants were sent to penal
colonies, while the sole woman defendant was sentenced to a travel restriction.
That ruling in turn sparked protests in central Moscow, where police detained
more than 600 people. And despite
subsequent amnesties for some defendants, the European Court of Human Rights is
still accepting complaints related to detentions on Bolotnaya-based charges.
This March, the Moscow City
Court committed defendant Mikhail Kosenko, no joke, to compulsory psychiatric
treatment in relation to his participation in the March of Millions. Though the
court declined a request from Kosenko’s lawyers for an additional psychiatric
evaluation, in June it granted him permission to continue his “treatment” at an
outpatient clinic.
Most importantly, two
opposition leaders were convicted on July 25 on obviously fabricated criminal
charges stemming from the March. Lawyer Sergey Udaltsov heads Left Front, which
is basically Russia's sole organized non-neo-Nazi political coalition. Left Front
member Leonid Razvozzhaev, a union organizer by trade, has also been active as
an advisor to opposition MP Ilya Ponomarev – the man with a voting record
including, for example, the sole ‘nay’ on the annexation of Crimea.
Udaltsov is known for a
rousing public oratory characterized by an ability to lay plain the belligerent
cynicism of the Putin government. He is a brave, articulate guy who, therefore,
makes the Kremlin deeply uncomfortable.
At a February 2012
demonstration that some estimates put at 120,000 people, Udaltsov, whose
great-grandfather was a Bolshevik and actually kind
of a big deal in the early Soviet Union, drew cheers from the crowd as he
ripped up a portrait of Putin. At
another rally, he got a similar response when he set a portrait of Putin on
fire.
Compare to Aleksey Navalny,
the kind of bizarro-world Russian Paul Ryan, who, despite consistent harassment
with similarly insane
charges, was allowed to participate – and take 27% of the vote – in
Moscow’s 2013 mayoral elections.
Navalny, who has spoken at neo-Nazi rallies and leads an anti-corruption
project, is bent on making Russia transparent for international capital, posing
basically no threat to the ruling class here except in his ability to name and
shame people personally. Udaltsov, not
so much – at least as the Kremlin sees it.
In that connection, it’s
important to consider Left Front’s constituency. When I first entered the courtroom for the Udaltsov-Razvozzhaev
sentencing hearing, it seemed odd that there were only two or three Left Front
members, as far as I could see, in the crowd.
However, I soon realized that I had been blinded by my own self-serving
and shallow understanding of Left Front as a group of young, active – let's
face it – men. In reality, there were
two dozen elderly women wearing Left Front pins in the crowd, and this
demographic actually constitutes a large chunk of the group’s following. That is one major takeaway from the Kremlin
decision to attack Left Front: while the group’s ability to do real, lasting
political damage to the machine is probably negligible, the sheer possibility
is enough.
Prosecutors and the Moscow
City Court held Razvozzhaev and Udaltsov – who Amnesty International considers
a prisoner of conscience – personally to account for the caricatured version of
Bolotnaya that the rest of Russia already viewed with a heavy helping of
skepticism, if not scorn.
Harassed with random and
silly administrative and criminal charges since 2010, Udaltsov had been under
house arrest since February 2013. Both
men began their latest in a long series of hunger strikes in response to the
four-and-a-half-year prison sentences levied against them.
Charges against the pair were
filed following the airing of a heavy-handedly propagandistic “documentary”
entitled Anatomy of a Protest 2 on
NTV – which is, wait for it, owned by the state energy conglomerate Gazprom. (If
you want to split hairs, the Kremlin owns exactly 50% of Gazprom. Those who
believe the rest is not owned by Putin allies from Saint Petersburg are deeply
confused.) The film alleges that Udaltsov and Razvozzhaev were conspiring to
organize a coup using funds from abroad, and purports to show them meeting with
the head of Georgia's Parliamentary Defense and Security Committee, Givi
Targamadze. Targamadze is said – to be
fair, acknowledged
even outside Russia – to have had a hand in the so-called color revolutions
in formerly Soviet countries in the aughts.
Razvozzhaev was kidnapped in Kiev
by Russian special forces and brought to Russia to face trial. He testified that following his abduction,
FSB spooks held him at an undisclosed location for two days; denied him food,
water, and bathroom access; and tortured him in addition to threatening to kill
his children unless he signed a confession. That confession was admitted as
evidence, alongside video from Anatomy of
a Protest 2. The defense emphasized, to negligible effect, the dubious
audio and video quality of the documentary footage and the reports that
Razvozzhaev was kidnapped and tortured.
Human Rights Watch, the
United Nations, and the European Union have all called on Russia and Ukraine to
investigate Razvozzhaev’s abduction, but they shouldn’t hold their breath.
NTV claims the footage in
question was given randomly to one of its employees “on the street by a
stranger of Georgian nationality,” so, like, take that however you see
fit. The “documentary” is on YouTube –
don’t watch it, it’s really, really, infuriatingly stupid. It features multiple uses of the same grainy
video with different audio dubbing, for example.
The goal in targeting
Udaltsov and Razvozzhaev for prosecution is two-fold: delegitimize the largest,
most significant civil movement (to be clear: the White Ribbon movement, not
Left Front) in modern Russian history while simultaneously getting rid of an
apparently threatening political group.
The delegitimation campaign doesn’t take much explanation: prosecutors
and the court fixated on the idea that Udaltsov and Razvozzhaev always received
their funding in United States dollars. The dog-whistle intent here is obvious:
the anti-Putin protesters of the 2011-2012 movement showed up only because they
were paid off by henchmen of the United States government – and therefore are
henchmen of the United States government.
Broadcast this version of history ad nauseam on state television, and
the rest of Russia – which universally reviles Moscow’s bourgeoisie anyway –
begins to see what is really at stake
with Bolotnaya.
Prosecutors had sought eight
years for both, in addition to a 150,000-ruble fine for Razvozzhaev.
Naively expecting a two-hour
sentencing reading, I showed up to the early afternoon proceedings at the
Moscow City Court without having eaten breakfast. Also present in the courtroom: about two dozen
officers from five different municipal and federal law enforcement and military
agencies, including the Spetsnaz, Russia’s uniformly strikingly handsome
special forces.
Two hours in, the U.S.
Embassy’s Political Section staffer in the crowd gets the general idea that the
allegations are utterly ludicrous, and calls it a day. Three hours in, the entire courtroom audience
bursts into collective laughter (the first time of several) as the reading of
the allegations continues. Five hours
in, one of the judges halts the proceedings so that police can physically
remove a sexagenarian woman with a cane who is no longer able to stand; it’s a
rule in Russian courts that the entire room must stand as a verdict is read.
After eight hours, I start to
hallucinate out of a combination of hunger and impotent rage – I think I hear
one of the judges say “Berezovsky,” but how can that even be possible – and
decide it’s time to leave. An hour and a
half later, a Left Front contact texts me: “we left, no sign of a
decision.” Later in the night, the
Political Section staffer emails me that both defendants got four and a half
years. I order another beer.
Overall, the judges read blatantly
bogus allegations for eleven hours while forcing everyone in the room to stay
on their feet. There’s a lot to unpack
here.
The whole process speaks to
the Russian leadership’s increasing paranoia and drive to destroy any
opposition political group whose message could empower civil society. As the Kremlin’s crazy narrative snowballs, the
political elite here is increasingly finding itself in a place where there is
no choice except to overreact
to even the sheer possibility of political disruption.
In this case, the punch line
is the sentence. While the charges were
officially the organization of riots across the country, the allegations were
actually based on the idea – now legal fact in Russia – that Udaltsov and
Razvozzhaev sought and obtained substantial funding from the representative of
a foreign state as part of a years-long conspiracy to overthrow the federal
government.
Let that sink in for a
minute: two self-evidently dangerous men with powerful international
connections, seemingly well on their way to revolution – sentenced to … four
and a half years, minus time served? Belligerent
cynicism indeed.
The court stated that the
punishment fit the crime, with no further explanation; who knows if there was
even anyone left in the courtroom at that point. That actually leads to another central objective
of the Kremlin’s overkill campaign: the demoralization of everyone and anyone who appears even remotely prepared to
put up a real fight.
On a macro level, the goals
are clear enough. First, the
transparently political prosecution of a charismatic leftist leader puts other
potential opposition activists on notice.
Second, the court sends the message, in this case via pretend
transcripts of text message and Skype conversations, that the Kremlin Thug Patrol
has ears and eyes everywhere. Judges described
in great detail the cars Udaltsov drove around in with foreign political elites
(generally, a black Audi A6), his meetings with “nationalists and anarchists,”
and the dollar sums he received – always in United States dollars – from this
Georgian politician (ranging from $42 to $90,000). Overkill is actually the only appropriate
word in the entire English language for the allegations’ level of detail.
On a micro level, reading
clearly fabricated allegations for eleven hours, while making the whole room
stand for the duration, hits in two places.
Subjecting Udaltsov and Razvozzhaev’s supporters to mind-numbing boredom
and physical discomfort for an entire day, simply so that they can hear what
they knew was coming anyway, is a great way to beat them down. Meanwhile, the fact that only the most
zealous supporters remained in the court as the crucial moment drew near must
have taken its emotional toll on Udaltsov and Razvozzhaev, no matter how strong
they appeared in court. And, last but
not least, let’s not forget that these two actually have to spend a couple
years sitting in prison.
After a long day in court,
Left Front activist Ilya Budraitskis put it best in a post
on Facebook: the crazier and crazier targeted use of the legal system here
is presented as a “price of everlasting Russian stability.” But with the Kremlin returning its gaze
inward, the stability Russians came to enjoy under early Putinism is being
replaced by a tenuous stability for the man and his circle, with society’s
return on investment going down faster and faster with every activist silenced.