Sunday, September 8, 2013

Pussy Riot Update: The Opera by Ilya Demutsky and other stories: Mother Russia and The World are proud of their daughters! Free Pussy Riot! Free Pussy Riot! Free Pussy Riot!



Published on Aug 14, 2013
Ilya Demutsky "The Closing Statement of the Accused" (with russian subtitles)
Оркестр Театра Комунале ди Болонья
Клара Каланна, меццо-сопрано
Хосе Рамон Энсинар, дирижер
Запись с премьеры на Гала-концерте Международного конкурса композиторов "2 Agosto"
Пьяцца Маджьоре, Болонья, Италия
2 августа 2013 г.
The statement is translated from Russian into English by Marijeta Bozovic, Maksim Hanukai, and Sasha Senderovich. Source:http://nplusonemag.com/pussy-riot-clo...
http://www.demutsky.com/

The Russian-born composer Ilya Demutsky, outraged by the jailing of the Pussy Riot trio in Vladimir Putin’s prison state, wrote an opera titled, The Closing Statement of the Accused.  It won a composing prize in Bologna, was broadcast on Rai-3 and has gone on to win a medal from the President of the Republic. You’ll soon here why when you watch this 11-minute extract: the post-Mahlerian score is compelling, an irresistible ear-worm. We will hear more of Mr Demutsky. More background here.

(nuzzprowlinwolf.blogspot.com)


The closing statements from Nadezhda Tolokonnikova at a trial. August 8, 2012. 

Published on Aug 8, 2012

More info - http://www.facebook.com/EngPR

English full version - The closing statements from Nadia #Pussyriot in trial 8 august 2012 http://eng-pussy-riot.livejournal.com...

Online broadcasting from a court hearing the case of #PussyRiot in Moscow. English version - https://twitter.com/Eng_Pussy_Riotmotildanopacaran@gmail.com

The closing statements from Nadezhda Tolokonnikova in trial. 8 august 2012

Yesterday (on the 7th of August according to the website lenta.ru) Madonna's performance took place. Madonna performed with the inscription "Pussy Riot" on her back. More and more people see that we are kept in pre-trial prison illegally and because of absolutely false accusation. I am astounded by it. I am astounded by the fact that truth really triumphs over lie though we are physically here, in the cage. We are freer than all the people sitting opposite us on the side of the prosecution because we can say everything we want and we do it. As for people from the side of the prosecution, they say only words passed by political censor. They can't say such words as "punk-prayer" and "Virgin Mary, redeem us of Putin!" They can't say the lines from our punk-prayer that are related to political system. They probably think that another reason why we are to be put into prison is our rebel against Putin and his system. But they can't say it because they are prohibited to do it. Their mouths are sewn. Unfortunately, they are just puppets at this trial. I hope they will realize it and will also head for freedom, truth and sincerity because all this is more important than static nature, affected decency and hypocrisy.

Because we don't really have religious hatred, and never had it, our accusers have no choice but to resort to using a false witnesses. One of them - Motilda Ivashchenko -got ashamed and did not appear in court. And there is no more evidence of our hatred and enmity, in addition to this so-called expertise. Therefore, the court, if it would be honest and fair, must admit inadmissible evidence, due to the fact that this is not a rigorous scientific and objective text, rather dirty and mendacious piece of paper times of medieval inquisition.

Prosecution is ashamed to voice excerpts from lyrics by PussyRiot, because they are in fact the evidence of the lack of motive. I'll present you this excerpt here, I think it's very valuable. It's from the interview for the "Russian Reporter" magazine, that was given on the next day after the performance in the Chuch of Jesus The Savior: "We feel great respect to any religion and to orthodoxy in particular, that's why we're so distressed about that, so great and so positive as it is, Christian Philosophy is being used in such a filthy way. Our brain is getting blown out by that all this beauty is being now used from the back. All of this is quite painful to observe.

14:47 In the end I'd like to quote one of the Pussy Riot's songs, as if curiously enough all of them turned to be fateful. Including the one which says: "Head of the KGB, their major saint, guides the protesters to detention under escort".

15:06 And what I'm going to quote right now is this very line: "Open all doors, take off your shoulder straps, feel the air of freedom with us".

Free Pussy Riot Free Pussy Riot
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9Jyya... 



The closing statements from Maria Alyokhina at a trial. August 8, 2012. 

Published on Aug 13, 2012
More info - http://www.facebook.com/EngPR

Online broadcasting from a court hearing the case of #PussyRiot in Moscow. English version - https://twitter.com/Eng_Pussy_Riotmotildanopacaran@gmail.com

The closing statements from Maria Alyokhina in trial 8 august 2012
Khamovnichesky Courthouse, Moscow

This trial is highly typical and speaks volumes. The current government will have occasion to feel shame and embarrassment because of it for a long time to come. At each stage it has embodied a travesty of justice. As it turned out, our performance, at first a small and somewhat absurd act, snowballed into an enormous catastrophe. This would obviously not happen in a healthy society. Russia, as a state, has long resembled an organism sick to the core. And the sickness explodes out into the open when you rub up against its inflamed abscesses. At first and for a long time this sickness gets hushed up in public, but eventually it always finds resolution through dialogue. And look—this is the kind of dialogue that our government is capable of. This trial is not only a malignant and grotesque mask, it is the "face" of the government's dialogue with the people of our country. To prompt discussion about a problem on the societal level, you often need the right conditions —an impetus.

And it is interesting that our situation was depersonalized from the start. This is because when we talk about Putin, we have in mind first and foremost not Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin —but Putin the system, that he himself created: the power vertical, where all control is carried out effectively by one person. And that power vertical is uninterested, completely uninterested, in the opinion of the masses. And what worries me most of all is that the opinion of the younger generations is not taken into consideration. We believe that the ineffectiveness of this administration is evident in practically everything.

And right here, in this closing statement, I would like to describe my first-hand experience of running afoul of this system. Our schooling, which is where the personality begins to form in a social context, effectively ignores any particularities of the individual. There is no "individual approach," no study of culture, of philosophy, of basic knowledge about civic society. Officially, these subjects do exist, but they are still taught according to the Soviet model. And as a result, we see the marginalization of contemporary art in the public consciousness, a lack of motivation for philosophical thought, and gender stereotyping. The concept of the human being as a citizen gets swept away into a distant corner.

Today's educational institutions teach people, from childhood, to live as automatons. Not to pose the crucial questions consistent with their age. They inculcate cruelty and intolerance of nonconformity. Beginning in childhood, we forget our freedom.

I have personal experience with psychiatric clinics for minors. And I can say with conviction that any teenager who shows any signs of active nonconformity can end up in such a place. A certain percentage of the kids there are from orphanages.

In our country, it's considered entirely normal to commit a child who has tried to escape from an orphanage to a psychiatric clinic. And they treat them using extremely powerful sedatives like Aminazin, which was also used to subdue Soviet dissidents in the 70s.

This is especially traumatizing given the overall punitive tendency and the absence of any real psychological assistance. All interactions are based on the exploitation of the children's feelings of fear and forced submission. And as a result, their own cruelty increases many times over. Many children there are illiterate; but no one makes any effort to battle this—on the contrary, every last drop of motivation for personal development is discouraged. The individual closes off entirely and loses faith in the world.

I would like to note that this method of personal development clearly impedes the awakening of both inner and religious freedoms, unfortunately, on a mass scale. The consequence of the process I have just described is ontological humility, the existential humility of socialization. To me, this transition, or rupture, is noteworthy in that, if approached from the point of view of Christian culture, we see that meanings and symbols are being replaced by those that are diametrically opposed to them. Thus one of the most important Christian concepts, Humility, is now commonly understood not as a path towards the perception, fortification, and ultimate liberation of Man, but on the contrary as an instrument for his enslavement. To quote [Russian philosopher] Nikolai Berdyaev, one could say that "the ontology of humility is the ontology of the slaves of God, and not the sons of God."

Read more - http://eng-pussy-riot.livejournal.com...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WmWK7S...

Pussy Riot: последнее слово обвиняемых


Мария Алехина: "Тюрьма — это Россия в миниатюре"

MA-240.jpgЭтот процесс показателен и красноречив. Не раз ещё власть будет краснеть за него и стыдиться. Каждый его этап — это квинтэссенция беспредела. Как вышло, что наше выступление, будучи изначально небольшим и несколько нелепым актом, разрослось до огромной беды. Очевидно, что в здоровом обществе такое невозможно. Россия как государство давно напоминает насквозь больной организм. И эта болезненность взрывается резонансом, когда задеваешь назревшие нарывы. Эта болезненность сначала долго и публично замалчивается. Но позже всегда находится разрешение через разговор. Смотрите, вот она, форма разговора, на который способна наша власть. Этот суд — не просто злая гротескная маска, это "лицо" разговора с человеком в нашей стране. На общественном уровне для разговора о проблеме часто нужна ситуация — импульс. 

И интересно, что наша ситуация уже изначально деперсонифицирована. Потому что, говоря о Путине, мы имеем в виду прежде всего не Владимира Владимировича Путина, но мы имеем Путина — как систему, созданную им самим. Вертикаль власти, где всё управление осуществляется практически вручную. И в этой вертикали не учитывается, совершенно не учитывается мнение масс. И, что больше всего меня волнует, не учитывается мнение молодых поколений. Мы считаем, что неэффективность этого управления проявляется практически во всём. 

И в этом последнем слове хочу вкратце описать мой непосредственный опыт столкновения с этой системой. Образование, из которого начинается становление личности в социуме, фактически игнорирует особенности этой личности. Отсутствует индивидуальный подход, отсутствует изучение культуры, философии, базовых знаний о гражданском обществе. Формально эти предметы есть. Но формы их преподавания наследует советский образец. И как итог, мы имеем маргинализацию современного искусства в сознании человека, отсутствие мотивации к философскому мышлению, гендерную стереотипизацию и отметание в дальний угол позицию человека как гражданина. 

Современные институты образования учат людей с детства жить автоматически. Не ставить ключевых вопросов с учетом возраста. Прививают жестокость и неприятие инакомыслия. Уже с детства человек забывает свою свободу. 

У меня есть опыт посещения психиатрического стационара для несовершеннолетних. И я с уверенностью говорю, что в таком месте может оказаться любой подросток, более или менее активно проявляющий инакомыслие. Часть детей, находящихся там, из детских домов. 

У нас в стране считается нормой попытавшегося сбежать из детдома ребенка положить в психбольницу. И осуществлять лечение сильнейшими успокоительными, такими, как, например, аминазин, который использовался ещё для усмирения советских диссидентов в 70-е годы. 

Это особенно травматично при общем карательном уклоне и отсутствии психологической помощи как таковой. Всё общение там построено на эксплуатации чувства страха и вынужденном подчинении этих детей. И как следствие, уровень их жестокости опять же вырастает в разы. Многие дети там безграмотные. Но никто не делает попыток бороться с этим. Напротив, отбивается последняя капля мотивации к развитию. Человек замыкается, перестаёт доверять миру. 

Хочу заметить, что подобный способ становления, очевидно, препятствует осознанию внутренних и в том числе религиозных свобод и носит массовый характер, к сожалению. Следствием такого процесса, как я только что описала, является онтологическое смирение, бытийное смирение социализации. Этот переход, или перелом, примечателен тем, что если воспринимать его в контексте христианской культуры, то мы видим, как подменяются смыслы и символы на прямо противоположные. Так, смирение, одна из важнейших христианских категорий, отныне понимается в бытийном смысле не как путь ощущения, укрепления и конечного освобождения человека, а напротив, как способ его порабощения. Цитируя Николая Бердяева, можно сказать: «Онтология смирения — это онтология рабов божьих, а не сынов божьих». Когда я занималась организацией экологического движения, окончательно сформировался у меня приоритет внутренней свободы как основы для действия. И также важность, вот непосредственная важность действия как такового. 

До сих пор мне удивительно, что в нашей стране требуется ресурс нескольких тысяч человек для прекращения произвола одного или горстки чиновников. Вот я хочу заметить, что наш процесс — это очень красноречивое подтверждение тому, что требуется ресурс тысяч людей по всему миру для того, чтобы доказать очевидное. То, что мы невиновны втроём. Мы невиновны, об этом говорит весь мир. Весь мир говорит на концертах, весь мир говорит в интернете, весь мир говорит в прессе. Об этом говорят в парламенте. Премьер-министр Англии приветствует нашего президента не словами об Олимпиаде, а вопросом: «Почему три невиновные девушки сидят в тюрьме? Это позор». Но ещё более удивительно для меня, что люди не верят в то, что могут как-либо влиять на власть. Во время проведения пикетов и митингов, вот на той стадии, когда я собирала подписи и организовала этот сбор подписей, очень многие люди меня спрашивали. Притом спрашивали с искренним удивлением, какое, собственно, может быть дело до… Может быть, единственного существующего в России, может быть, реликтового… Но какое вот им дело до этого леса в Краснодарском крае? Вот небольшого пятачка. Какое им, собственно, дело, что жена нашего премьер-министра Дмитрия Медведева собирается там построить резиденцию? И уничтожить единственный можжевеловый заповедник у нас в России. 

Ну, вот, собственно, эти люди… Вот ещё раз находится подтверждение, что люди у нас в стране перестали ощущать принадлежность территорий нашей страны им самим, гражданам. Эти люди перестали чувствовать себя гражданами. Они себя чувствуют просто автоматическими массами. Они не чувствуют, что им принадлежит даже лес, находящийся непосредственно у них около дома. Я даже сомневаюсь в том, что они осознают принадлежность собственного дома им самим. Потому что, если какой-нибудь экскаватор подъедет к подъезду и людям скажут, что им нужно эвакуироваться, что: «Извините, мы сносим теперь ваш дом. Теперь здесь будет резиденция чиновника». Эти люди покорно соберут вещи, соберут сумки и пойдут на улицу. И будут там сидеть ровно до того момента, пока власть не скажет им, что делать дальше. Они совершенно аморфны, это очень грустно. Проведя почти полгода в СИЗО, я поняла, что тюрьма — это Россия в миниатюре. 

Начать также можно с системы правления. Это та же вертикаль власти, где решение любых вопросов происходит единственно, через прямое вмешательство начальника. Отсутствует горизонтальное распределение обязанностей, которое заметно облегчило бы всем жизнь. И отсутствует личная инициатива. Процветает донос. Взаимное подозрение. В СИЗО, как и у нас в стране, всё работает на обезличивании человека, приравнивание его к функции. Будь то функция работника или заключенного. Строгие рамки режима дня, к которым быстро привыкаешь, похожи на рамки режима жизни, в которые помещают человека с рождения. В таких рамках люди начинают дорожить малым. В тюрьме — это, например, скатерть или пластиковая посуда, которую можно раздобыть только с личного разрешения начальника. А на воле — это соответственно статусная роль в обществе, которой тоже люди очень сильно дорожат. Что мне, например, всегда всю жизнь было удивительно. Ещё один момент — это осознание этого режима как спектакля. Который на реальном уровне оказывается в хаос. Внешнее режимное заведение обнаруживает дезорганизацию и неоптимизированность большинства процессов. И очевидно, что к правлению это явно не ведет. Напротив, у людей обостряется потерянность, в том числе во времени и пространстве. Человек, как и везде в стране, не знает, куда обратиться к тем или иным вопросам. Поэтому обращается к начальнику СИЗО. На воле, считай, к начальнику Путину. 

Выражая в тексте собирательный образ системы, который… Да, в общем, можно сказать, что мы не против… Что мы против путинского хаоса, который только внешне называется режимом. Выражая в тексте собирательный образ системы, в которой, по нашему мнению, происходит некоторая мутация практически всех институтов, при внешней сохранности форм. И уничтожается такое дорогое нам гражданское общество. Мы не совершаем в текстах прямого высказывания. Мы лишь берем форму прямого высказывания. Берем эту форму как художественную форму. И единственно, что тождественно — это мотивация. Наша мотивация — тождественная мотивация, при прямом высказывании. И она очень хорошо выражена словами Евангелия: «Всякий просящий получает, и ищущий находит, и стучащему отворят». Я и мы все искренне верим, что нам отворят. Но увы, пока что нас только закрыли в тюрьме. Это очень странно, что, реагируя на наши действия, власти совершенно не учитывают исторический опыт проявления инакомыслия. «...простая честность воспринимается в лучшем случае как героизм. А в худшем как психическое расстройство», — писал в 70-е годы диссидент Буковский. И прошло не так много времени, и уже как будто не было ни большого террора, ни попыток противостоять ему. Я считаю, что мы обвиняемые беспамятными людьми. Многие из них говорили: «Он одержим бесом и безумствует. Что случаете его»? Эти слова принадлежат иудеям, обвинившим Иисуса Христа в богохульстве. Они говорили: «Хотим побить тебя камнями, за богохульство» (Иоанн 10.33). Интересно, что именно этот стих использует Русская православная церковь, для выражения своего мнения на богохульство. Это мнение заверено на бумаге, приложено к нашему уголовному делу. Выражая его, Русская православная церковь ссылается в Евангелие как на статичную религиозную истину. Под Евангелием уже не понимается откровение, в котором оно было с самого начала. Но под ним понимается некий монолитный кусок, который можно разобрать на цитаты и засунуть куда угодно. В любой свой документ, использовать для любых целей. И Русская православная церковь даже не озаботилась тем, чтобы посмотреть, в каком контексте используется слово "богохульство". Что в данном случае оно было применено к Иисусу Христу. Я считаю, что религиозная истина не должна быть статичной. Что необходимо понимание и моменты путей развития духа. Испытаний человека, его раздвоенности, расщепления. Что все эти вещи необходимо переживать для становления. Что только посредством переживания этих вещей человек может к чему-то прийти и будет приходить постоянно. Что религиозная истина — это процесс, а не оконченный результат, который можно засунуть куда угодно. И все эти вещи, о которых я сказала, эти процессы, они осмысляются в искусстве и философии. В том числе в современном искусстве. Художественная ситуация может, и на мой взгляд, должна содержать свой внутренний конфликт. И меня очень сильно раздражает вот эта так называемость в словах обвинения применительно к современному искусству. 

Я хочу заметить, что во время суда над поэтом Бродским использовалось ровно то же самое. Его стихи обозначались как так называемые стихи, а свидетели их не читали. Как и часть наших свидетелей, не были очевидцами произошедшего, но видели в интернете клип. Наши извинения, видимо, тоже обозначаются в собирательной обвиняющей голове как так называемые. Хотя это оскорбительно. И наносит мне моральный вред, душевную травму. Потому что наши извинения были искренними. Мне так жаль, что произнесено было такое количество слов, вы до сих пор этого не поняли. Или вы лукавите, говоря о наших извинениях как неискренних извинениях. Я понимаю, что вам ещё нужно услышать. Для меня лишь этот процесс имеет статус так называемого процесса. И я вас не боюсь. Я не боюсь лжи и фикции, плохо задекорированного обмана, в приговоре так называемого суда. 

Потому что вы можете лишить меня лишь так называемой свободы. Только такая существует в РФ. А мою внутреннюю свободу никому не отнять. Она живёт в слове, она будет жить благодаря гласности, когда это будут читать и слышать тысячи людей. Эта свобода уже продолжается с каждым неравнодушным человеком, который слышит нас в этой стране. Со всеми, кто нашел осколки процесса в себе, как когда-то нашли Франц Гафт и Ги де Бор. Я верю, что имею честность и гласность, жажду правды, сделать всех нас немного свободнее. Мы это увидим.

Фото ИТАР-ТАСС

In the closing statement, the defendant is expected to repent, express regret for her deeds, or enumerate attenuating circumstances. In my case, as in the case of my colleagues in the group, this is completely unnecessary. Instead, I want to voice some thoughts about what has happened to us.
That Christ the Savior Cathedral had become a significant symbol in the political strategy of the authorities was clear to many thinking people when Vladimir Putin’s former [KGB] colleague Kirill Gundyayev took over as leader of the Russian Orthodox Church. After this happened, Christ the Savior Cathedral began to be openly used as a flashy backdrop for the politics of the security forces, which are the main source of political power in Russia.
Why did Putin feel the need to exploit the Orthodox religion and its aesthetic? After all, he could have employed his own, far more secular tools of power—for example, the state-controlled corporations, or his menacing police system, or his obedient judicial system. It may be that the harsh, failed policies of Putin’s government, the incident with the submarine Kursk, the bombings of civilians in broad daylight, and other unpleasant moments in his political career forced him to ponder the fact that it was high time to resign; that otherwise, the citizens of Russia would help him do this. Apparently, it was then that he felt the need for more persuasive, transcendent guarantees of his long tenure at the pinnacle of power. It was then that it became necessary to make use of the aesthetic of the Orthodox religion, which is historically associated with the heyday of Imperial Russia, where power came not from earthly manifestations such as democratic elections and civil society, but from God Himself.
How did Putin succeed in this? After all, we still have a secular state, and any intersection of the religious and political spheres should be dealt with severely by our vigilant and critically minded society. Right? Here, apparently, the authorities took advantage of a certain deficit of the Orthodox aesthetic in Soviet times, when the Orthodox religion had an aura of lost history, of something that had been crushed and damaged by the Soviet totalitarian regime, and was thus an opposition culture. The authorities decided to appropriate this historical effect of loss and present a new political project to restore Russia’s lost spiritual values, a project that has little to do with a genuine concern for the preservation of Russian Orthodoxy’s history and culture.
It was also fairly logical that the Russian Orthodox Church, given its long mystical ties to power, emerged as the project’s principal exponent in the media. It was decided that, unlike in the Soviet era, when the church opposed, above all, the brutality of the authorities toward history itself, the Russian Orthodox Church should now confront all pernicious manifestations of contemporary mass culture with its concept of diversity and tolerance.
Implementing this thoroughly interesting political project has required considerable quantities of professional lighting and video equipment, air time on national television for hours-long live broadcasts, and numerous background shoots for morally and ethically edifying news stories, where the Patriarch’s well-constructed speeches would in fact be presented, thus helping the faithful make the correct political choice during a difficult time for Putin preceding the election. Moreover, the filming must be continuous; the necessary images must be burned into the memory and constantly updated; they must create the impression of something natural, constant, and compulsory.
Our sudden musical appearance in the Cathedral of Christ the Savior with the song “Mother of God, Drive Putin Out” violated the integrity of the media image that the authorities had spent such a long time generating and maintaining, and revealed its falsity. In our performance we dared, without the Patriarch’s blessing, to unite the visual imagery of Orthodox culture with that of protest culture, thus suggesting that Orthodox culture belongs not only to the Russian Orthodox Church, the Patriarch, and Putin, but that it could also ally itself with civic rebellion and the spirit of protest in Russia.
Perhaps the unpleasant, far-reaching effect of our media intrusion into the cathedral was a surprise to the authorities themselves. At first, they tried to present our performance as a prank pulled by heartless, militant atheists. This was a serious blunder on their part, because by then we were already known as an anti-Putin feminist punk band that carried out its media assaults on the country’s major political symbols.
In the end, considering all the irreversible political and symbolic losses caused by our innocent creativity, the authorities decided to protect the public from us and our nonconformist thinking. Thus ended our complicated punk adventure in the Cathedral of Christ the Savior.
I now have mixed feelings about this trial. On the one hand, we expect a guilty verdict. Compared to the judicial machine, we are nobodies, and we have lost. On the other hand, we have won. The whole world now sees that the criminal case against us has been fabricated. The system cannot conceal the repressive nature of this trial. Once again, the world sees Russia differently than the way Putin tries to present it at his daily international meetings. Clearly, none of the steps Putin promised to take toward instituting the rule of law has been taken. And his statement that this court will be objective and hand down a fair verdict is yet another deception of the entire country and the international community. That is all. Thank you.
Translated by Chto Delat News 

Екатерина Самуцевич: Последнее слово на суде по делу Pussy Riot

Автор: Екатерина Самуцевич — Последнее изменение: 2012-08-09 01:03
Сделали вклад: Сайт радио Эхо Москвы: аудизапись, Александра Астахова на facebook.com: фото
Екатерина Самуцевич: Последнее слово на суде по делу Pussy Riot
В нашем выступлении мы осмелились без благословения патриарха совместить визуальный образ православной культуры и культуры протеста, наведя умных людей на мысль о том, что православная культура принадлежит не только Русской православной церкви, патриарху и Путину, она может оказаться и на стороне гражданского бунта и протестных настроений в России...
Фотография отсюда
Выступления Надежды Толоконниковой и Марии Алехиной на видео и аудио здесь.
Москва, Хамовнический суд, зал № 7, 8 августа 2012. 

Екатерина Самуцевич,

подсудимая по делу феминистской панк-группы Pussy Riot:
"На последнем слове от подсудимого ждут либо раскаяния, либо сожаления о содеянном, либо перечисления смягчающих обстоятельств. В моем случае, как и в случае моих коллег по группе, это совершенно не нужно. Вместо этого я хочу высказать свои соображения по поводу причин произошедшего с нами.
То, что храм Христа Спасителя стал значимым символом в политической стратегии наших властей, многим думающим людям стало понятно еще с приходом на руководящий пост в Русской православной церкви бывшего коллеги Владимира Владимировича Путина Кирилла Гундяева. После чего храм Христа Спасителя начал откровенно использоваться в качестве яркого интерьера для политики силовых спецслужб, являющихся основным источником власти.
Почему Путину вообще понадобилось использовать православную религию и ее эстетику? Ведь он мог воспользоваться своими, куда более светскими инструментами власти, например, национальными корпорациями или своей грозной полицейской системой, или своей послушной судебной системой? Возможно, что жесткая неудачная политика правительства Путина, инцидент с подводной лодкой «Курск», взрывы мирных граждан среди бела дня и другие неприятные моменты в его политической карьере заставили задуматься о том, что ему уже давно пора сделать самоотвод, иначе в этом ему помогут граждане России. Видимо, именно тогда ему понадобились более убедительные, трансцендентные гарантии своего долгого пребывания на вершине власти. Здесь возникла потребность использовать эстетику православной религии, исторически связанной с лучшими имперскими временами России, где власть шла не от таких земных проявлений, как демократические выборы и гражданское общество, а от самого бога.
Как же ему это удалось? Ведь у нас все-таки светское государство, и любое пересечение религиозной и политической сфер должно строго пресекаться нашим бдительным и критически мыслящим обществом? Видимо, здесь власти воспользовались определенной нехваткой православной эстетики в советское время, когда православная религия обладала ореолом утраченной истории, чего-то задавленного и поврежденного советским тоталитарным режимом и являлась тогда оппозиционной культурой. Власти решили апроприировать этот исторический эффект утраты и представить свой новый политический проект по восстановлению утраченных духовных ценностей России, имеющий весьма отдаленное отношение к искренней заботе о сохранении истории и культуры православия.
Достаточно логичным оказалось и то, что именно Русская православная церковь, давно имеющая мистические связи с властью, явилась главным медийным исполнителем этого проекта. При этом было решено, что Русская православная церковь, в отличие от советского времени, где церковь противостояла, прежде всего, грубости власти по отношению к самой истории, должна также противостоять всем пагубным проявлениям современной массовой культуры с ее концепцией разнообразия и толерантности.
Для реализации этого интересного во всех смыслах политического проекта потребовалось немалое количество многотонного профессионального светового и видео оборудования, эфирного времени на центральных каналах для прямых многочасовых трансляций и последующих многочисленных подсъемок к укрепляющим мораль и нравственность новостным сюжетам, где и будут произноситься стройные речи патриарха, помогающие верующим сделать правильный политический выбор в тяжелые для Путина предвыборные времена. При этом все съемки должны проходить непрерывно, нужные образы должны врезаться в память и постоянно возобновляться, создавать впечатление чего-то естественного, постоянного и обязательного.
Наше внезапное музыкальное появление в храме Христа Спасителя с песней «Богородица, Путина прогони» нарушило цельность этого так долго создаваемого и поддерживаемого властями медийного образа, выявило его ложность. В нашем выступлении мы осмелились без благословения патриарха совместить визуальный образ православной культуры и культуры протеста, наведя умных людей на мысль о том, что православная культура принадлежит не только Русской православной церкви, патриарху и Путину, она может оказаться и на стороне гражданского бунта и протестных настроений в России.
Возможно, такой неприятный масштабный эффект от нашего медийного вторжения в храм стал неожиданностью для самих властей. Сначала они попытались представить наше выступление как выходку бездушных воинствующих атеисток. Но сильно промахнулись, так как к этому времени мы уже были известны как антипутинская феминистская панк-группа, осуществляющая свои медианабеги на главные политические символы страны.
В итоге, оценив все необратимые политические и символические потери, принесенные нашим невинным творчеством, власти все-таки решились оградить общество от нас и нашего нонконформистского мышления. Так закончилось наше непростое панк-приключение в храме Христа Спасителя.
У меня сейчас смешанные чувства по поводу этого судебного процесса. С одной стороны, мы сейчас ожидаем обвинительный приговор. По сравнению с судебной машиной, мы никто, мы проиграли. С другой стороны, мы победили. Сейчас весь мир видит, что заведенное против нас уголовное дело сфабриковано. Система не может скрыть репрессивный характер этого процесса. Россия в очередной раз выглядит в глазах мирового сообщества не так, как пытается ее представить Владимир Путин при каждодневных международных встречах. Все обещанные им шаги на пути к правовому государству, очевидно, так и не были сделаны. А его заявление о том, что суд по нашему делу будет объективен и вынесет справедливое решение, является очередным обманом всей страны и мирового сообщества. Все. Спасибо". 
(Аплодисменты.)

Екатерину Самуцевич из Pussy Riot освободили в зале суда





15:12, 10.10.2012




Скорее всего, Екатерине Самуцевич смягчили наказание поскольку, как утверждают ее новые адвокаты, девушка не участвовала в самом «панк-молебне» и была задержана охраной не на амвоне, а сразу после входа в храм. Остальным участницам панк-группы — Марии Алехиной и Надежде Толоконниковой суд оставил в силе приговор в виде двух лет лишения свободы за хулиганство по мотивам религиозной вражды в храме Христа Спасителя.
___________________________________________

Neil Durkin

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One of the last times I posted something on Pussy Riot I was waxing lyrical (literally) on what I saw as the underlying radicalism of Pussy Riot's situationist-style art-cum-music stunts.
I reckon it's pointless looking at them as "political musicians", still less as a musicians trying to carve out a career in the music industry. They're clearly a bunch of politically-minded activists adept at using the props of a rock band (guitars, defiant vocal stylings, costumes) as well as other modern art-world techniques - videos, public stunts, manifestos,"scandalous" exposure of bodily parts. It's one part Jake and Dinos Chapman, one part Laurie Anderson, one part ... er, well one part Pussy Riot!
I don't want to overdo the comparisons - every artist obviously has all sorts of motivations and inspirations - but another connection worth mentioning is the Forbidden Art event from a few years ago. This was the exhibition in Moscow in 2006 that featured a Mickey Mouse Jesus Christ and other "sacrilegious" exhibits. It upset Russia's Orthodox Church and led to the organisers being fined for supposedly fuelling religious hatred. This week's news that a painting depicting Putin and Medvedev in women's underwear has been impounded from a St Petersburg gallery - because it and similar works "violated existing legislation" - seems to be more of the same.
Russian prosecutors are not, it's fair to say, great students of art history. If they were - or indeed if they'd even bothered to Google a few precedents for Pussy Riot's artist-provocateurism - they would surely have abandoned their foolish and heavy-handed prosecution of Maria Alyokhina, Yekaterina Samutsevich and Nadezhda Tolokonnikova last year. Pussy Riot's "shock art" approach is decades old - going back to at least Marcel Duchamp's Urinal (1917) and including well-known works like Andres Serrano's Piss Christ (1987). As Sam Leith says, this kind of "shock art" has gone in and out of fashion over the years. It's not the shock of the new, more the shock of the old-but-still-able-to-cause-a-reaction. But still, no-one had done precisely what the three Pussy Riot women did in Moscow Cathedral last February. In context, it was new, unconventional, even shocking, but criminal it surely wasn't.
Anyway, in my pigeonhole at work last week I received a copy of Let's Start a Pussy Riot, the chunky Rough Trade art book published earlier this year. I was asked to write a few words about it and ... here they are.
All your favourites are in this Pussy Riot-inspired miscellany - Billy Childish, Jeffrey Lewis, Bo Ningen, Sarah Lucas, Kim Gordon, Cornershop, Yoko Ono, Vivien Goldman, Laurie Penny, Lee Ranaldo, Antony and the Johnsons, plus plenty of contributors I hadn't personally come across previously. (After reading Alice Bag's account of Mexican migrants' labour protests in California in the 60s and 70s, I was, for example, quite keen to check out the L.A. punk band The Bags, with Alice doing some pretty lively stuff on vocals).
Another contribution I rather liked was from No Bra, an electro-art band I saw play live in east London a few years ago. Their offering is a nicely humorous poem-type affair which includes this:
"On a date with the devil / The devil said / When I was younger / I was so desperate / To fall in love / That every time I ever met someone / I was so nervous / I couldn't say anything / So I changed my mind / And decided to become evil / And become the devil / And tempt other men into being evil / And being the devil / And I said / If you're not nervous / It's boring..."
Ah, I know the feeling (not about becoming the devil, just the young person dating thing ...). I would have thought the poem's main refrain - "More evil than the devil" - is unimaginable or even shockingly irreligious if you're a devoutly religious person. But it isperfectly imaginable if you're an artist and should be perfectly permissable as a piece of artistic expression. The poem may exhibit artistic sympathy for the devil (just like Milton in the 17th century) but it doesn't mean it's genuinely devilish. Sorry, it can be tiresome to have to spell this out but you do feel that some governments around the world need to have these elementary distinctions highlighted.
Artists like No Bra were already doing their stuff well before Pussy Riot's brush with international fame/notoriety last year, but it's still good to see an array of cutting-edge artists paying tribute to the young upstarts from Moscow. The Pussy Riot effect is likely to be significant in art circles for years to come, but it's also significant in activism circles. This week Yekaterina Samutsevich, the freed Pussy Riot member, said she supports the gay rights campaign building up around the Sochi Winter Olympics. I'm sure there's going to be a lot more of this cross-over with Pussy Riot and other campaigns. (BTW, if you're in the London area on 3 October and feel the need to top up your own Pussy Riot campaigning red blood cells - check out the free screening of the Punk Prayer Riot documentary at Amnesty's HQ).
Meanwhile, apart from now being the (slightly accidental) owner of the Let's Start a Pussy Riot book, I also have another artefact from Russia's modern "culture wars" in my possession.
It's a clockwork icon made by the Russian artist Oleg Yanushevski, one of his "contemporary icons" series from the early noughties. For these pieces of art, ironic comments on modern materialism and a lack of contemporary spirituality, Oleg was vilified on state television, he and his family were threatened and harassed (his son was physically attacked) and he was told the police wouldn't be investigating the attacks. He eventually gained political asylum in Britain with the assistance of the freedom of expression/anti-censorship organisation ARTICLE 19 (see their report on his and other Russian art cases). My girlfriend worked at A19 at the time and was involved in his case - as a thank-you Oleg gave her the clockwork icon. (Thanks Oleg).
Final thought - I'd never want to sell Oleg's icon, but I did see that some of his work has previously come up for auction in London. If you yourself fancy a quick dabble in the online auction world, try this one of pop memorabilia being sold to raise money for Amnesty. Elton John's platform boots! He inspired LA punk rocker Alice Bag. He supports Pussy Riot. Pussy Riot wear big boots. Hey, I want those boots ...

Links and References 


patriarch kirill and pussy riot case - GS

patriarch kirill pussy riot - GS

patriarch kirill - GS

patriarch kirill homosexuality - GS

patriarch kirill feminism - GS

patriarch kirill watch - GS

patriarch kirill putin - GS


Posts on Pussy Riot case in this blog: 

Pussy Riot - Press Review: 8:18 AM 8/22/2012

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Comments to the article: Богородица плачет - Pussy Riot - by Александр Морозов

Mike Nova:
These comments were published by me more than a year ago, in August of 2012, after Pussy Riot "trial" and sentencing. I do not think that anyone expected the three members of this punk rock group to serve their full two years sentence. I certainly did not expect it and hoped that they would be released soon. One of them, Yekaterina Samutsevich, was released in October of 2012, but Nadezhda Tolokonnikova and Maria Alyokhina still remain in prison and continue to serve their sentences, despite the uproar all over the world and incessant appeals and demands from artists, singers, politicians and public at large to pardon and to release them. I do not know what else we can do to persuade Mr. Putin to lend his good ear to these demands and appeals, and it appears that this decision is more up to him than anyone else, because, as the common opinion goes, he felt personally insulted and incensed by their performance, especially by the line "Mother of God, chase Putin away!"
These limericks, below, are, probably the expression of anger, frustration and protest, more than anything else, however it was and is a natural and spontaneous reaction expressing the feelings about this event, even if somewhat childish and mocking. I reproduce them here in Cyrillic transcription. I sincerely admire these young ladies: their courage, their artistic freedom, their spiritual strength and unusual, especially for performers in this genre and for young Russian people in general, depth of their thinking, which is evident in their post-sentencing statements. As long as Mother Russia is able to produce the persons and souls like theirs, there is a hope for her. As long as they are in prison and even thereafter, the deep shame ("позор" in Russian) will be on Mr. Putin personally, his ruling circle and on Russian Orthodox Church and on Mr. Gund'yaev ("Patriarch Kirill") personally also. I can only repeat, despite being aware that this becomes a hopeless and, alas, helpless mantra: 
Free Pussy Riot! Free Pussy Riot! Free Pussy Riot! 
As long as they are in prison, we all are in prison. May God bless them and give them strength!
As for me, I do intend to write a libretto for the rock opera "Free Pussy Riot", as I declared earlier, as soon as I have just a bit more time. It seems to me, that these subject, theme, occurrence, artistic statement on their part are highly symbolic and historically meaningful for Russia, they are inspiring and ask to be thought through in depth, conceptualised and expressed in art form. And these limericks, most likely, will become one of the songs or arias in this planned rock opera. Enjoy them, if you understand Russian, of course. And if you do not speak Russian, just wait a bit longer: they will be in their main, English version also. Art was, is and always will be much louder and more memorable than any prison sentence.

ПуссиПут и Поп Гундяй 


Он совсем не лиллипут: 
Весь в сраженьях там и тут, 

Неспроста его зовут 
Непутёвый ПуссиПут

Как на всех парах трамвай 
Разошёлся Поп Гундяй: 

"Я им, Пуськам, покажу 
И в тюрьму их посажу: 

Чтоб боялись все меня 
Как геенного огня!" 

Вот предел твоих идей, 
Патри-Архи-Прохиндей!

Лицемер и негодяй:
ПуссиПут и Поп Гундяй! 

Архи-врун и Архи-плут: 
Поп Гундяй и ПуссиПут!

Вышла парочка на славу 
Всему миру на забаву!

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Open Letter To Father John - August 10, 2013

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Pussy Riot 'Desecrated' Cathedral - Russian Church Head

Topic: Punk Group Pussy Riot Case

Members of Russian all-female punk group Pussy Riot
15:06 24/03/2012
MOSCOW, March 24 (RIA Novosti)
Tags: Pussy RiotOrthodox ChurchVsevolod ChaplinPatriarch KirillVladimir PutinRussiaMoscow
The head of the Russian Orthodox Church has said a controversial performance at Moscow's largest cathedral by the all-female punk group Pussy Riot "desecrated" the church.
In his first public comment since Pussy Riot performed an unsanctioned "punk prayer" at the altar of the downtown Christ the Savior Cathedral a month ago, Patriarch Kirill said every believer in Russia was "stinged" by the protest.
"We will have no future if sacred shrines are desecrated, if this desecration is seen by some as virtue, as some proper expression of political protest, as some appropriate action or harmless joke," the patriarch said during a service in a Moscow church on Saturday.
The Christ the Savior Cathedral hosts part of the Holy Tunic, a robe which is said to have been worn by Jesus Christ before his crucifixion.
Five members of Pussy Riot, clad in brightly-colored balaclavas, bowed and crossed themselves as they sang an acapella version of a song entitled “Holy Sh*t” at the cathedral. The lyrics included lines such as “Holy Mother, Blessed Virgin, chase Putin out!”
The group said the performance was a protest against Patriarch Kirill’s support for Vladimir Putin in the run-up to the March 4 presidential elections. The performance came amid the biggest demonstrations against Putin’s rule since he first came to power in 2000.
Three alleged members of the group have since been detained and could face up to seven years behind bars if found guilty of hooliganism charges.
The patriarch also denounced efforts to defend the band members.
"Some people begin to appear who are trying to justify this sacrilege, to minimize it... and my heart is breaking because among them are those who call themselves Orthodox Christians."
Supporters of the accused have held a series of protests over their detention and launched a petition for their release.
A number of religious figures, including Vsevolod Chaplin, the influential head of the Orthodox Church's social affairs department, have said the women should not be imprisoned.


The Russian Church Lashes Out at Pussy Riot


...the band is now accused of having the power of "money and arms"...

By , About.com Guide
The Russian Church Lashes Out at Pussy Riot
While they haven't been face to face, members of feminist punk collective Pussy Riot and heads of the Russian Orthodox Church are having a dialogue... of sorts.
This weekend, Patriarch Kirill issued a series of statements that condemned the call for lenient sentences for the incarcerated members of Pussy Riot, saying that "the devil laughed at us" when the group staged their protest performance inside Christ the Savior Cathedral.
He went on to state a confusing idea on the beliefs of Pussy Riot, saying they:
believe in the strength of propaganda, in the strength of lies and slander, in the strength of the internet, in the strength of the media [and] in the strength of money and arms
Which I find confusing and self-contradictory, because while I'll buy that primary goal of the collective is using media, internet and propaganda to spread their message of women's issues in Putin's Russia, I think that the only thing this group knows about the strength of money and arms are the money and arms wielded by those that have their members in prison in the first place.
Members of Pussy Riot recently granted an interview to Gazeta.Ru, which in part included their statement on the Cathedral protest:
...some officials demanded our imprisonment after the performance in the Cathedral of Christ the Savior. But we only wanted to stress the far too much communication between the church and the government. Our Patriarch is not ashamed of wearing watches worth $40,000, which is intolerable when so many families in Russia are on the edge of poverty...(The full interview is here)
Currently three member of the group are in prison facing trial on charges of hooliganism, which carries a penalty of up to seven years in prison. Again, it doesn't seem like they're wielding too much money or power right now. Maybe the Patriarch's statement had something lost in translation, and should read that they should be oppressed by the strength of money and arms?
It does call into question, as well, how closely the church and the government are related in Russia - actually, it doesn't. It makes it pretty evident that they are too closely linked. Patriarch Kirill has been quoted for saying that Putin's previous years of leadership of Russia were a ''miracle of God'', so there's little question as to where his alliances lie. Even so, one should expect a religious leader to lead with compassion, shouldn't one?
The members of Pussy Riot, who have gone on record as to numbering around 10, are the consummate underdog, facing persecution from both religious and governmental authorities for having the audacity for trying to demonstrate their ideal of free speech when it doesn't mesh with the beliefs of those in power. This is a true punk ideal, and the band deserves constant attention from the punk world, and media in general, so that the three members of Pussy Riot currently being held as political prisoners stay in the public eye, and it should probably also serve as a warning for stateside voters who are observing the stances of candidates in the upcoming U.S. presidential elections. What was that about politics and religion being in bed together?
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17 AUG 2013
One Year After Pussy Riot Verdict, Children Still Coming To Grips With Mothers' Jailing
By Claire Bigg
August 16, 2013
It's been a tough year for Pussy Riot members Nadezhda Tolokonnikova and Maria Alyokhina.
The two women have been locked up in some of Russia's harshest jails since a court on August 17, 2012, handed them two-year sentences for performing a song critical of President Vladimir Putin in a Moscow cathedral.
In addition to the daily privations of prison life, the members of the feminist punk collective have endured unrelenting prison reprimands, solitary confinement, hunger strikes, and quashed court appeals -- deepening international outrage over what many denounce as a grossly disproportionate response from the Kremlin.
The past year has been no less agonizing for the women's young children, Tolokonnikova's 5-year-old daughter Gera and Alyokhina's son Filipp, 6.
Relatives say Gera and Filipp sorely miss their mothers and are still coming to grips with the reality of their moms serving time in high-security prison camps.
Nikita Demidov, Filipp's father, told RFE/RL that he chose not to keep the truth from his son following Alyokhina's arrest in March 2012.
"I received a lot of different advice from relatives who are not used to speaking openly to children," he says. "But I told him that his mother was in prison because she went to Christ the Savior Cathedral and sang too loudly there and that some people were not happy about it."
02 AUG 2013
Jailed Pussy Riot Activist’s Defiant Speech at Parole Hearing
By Robert Mackey
August 1, 2013
As my colleague Melena Ryzik reported, the two members of the Russian activist collective Pussy Riot who remain imprisoned were both denied parole last week. At separate hearings, Maria Alyokhina and Nadezhda Tolokonnikova were judged to be insufficiently repentant for the “punk prayer” they performed in a Moscow cathedral last year, calling on the Virgin Mary to “send Putin packing!”
The women, who were arrested together in March 2012 and sentenced to two years in prison for “hooliganism aimed at inciting religious hatred,” both denounced the Russian justice system during the parole hearings in Perm andSaransk.
On Thursday, the literary journal n+1 published an English translation of Ms. Tolokonnikova’s defiant statement, in which she said: “I know that in Russia under Putin I will never receive parole. But I came here, to this courtroom, in order to cast light once again on the absurdity of the justice of the oil-and-gas-resource kingdom, which condemns people to rot pointlessly in camps.”
02 JUL 2013
The Big Chill: Critics Say Kremlin Waging A War On Ideas
By Robert Coalson
July 1, 2013
It's not a great time to be a freethinker in Russia.
Offending somebody's religious sensibilities could get you prosecuted according to legislation signed this weekend by President Vladimir Putin. Criticizing the wrong person with a snarky comment on a social network could run afoul of a vaguely worded law criminalizing online defamation.
And lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) activists need to be mindful of a newly enacted federal law prohibiting "homosexual propaganda" as well as similar legislation enacted in many Russian regions.
And pretty soon, criticizing those who fought against Nazi Germany could be a crime punishable with stiff fines and jail terms.
The recent spate of legislation has fostered a big intellectual chill and created what the Council of Europe, in a recent report, called a "generalized climate of fear" across the country.
"Over the last year we have seen a broad-scale operation that includes a whole package of so-called laws from the Duma under which anyone can be arrested," Viktor Krasin, a Soviet-era dissident who is now a human rights activist, says.
"They have done a remarkable thing -- now you can be accused of slandering the authorities, of inciting enmity. This is just the same as the Stalin- and Khrushchev-era [anti-Soviet] laws but with just different formulations."
23 JUN 2013
Pussy Riot: "People fear us because we're feminists"
By Laurie Penny
June 22, 2013
Pussy Riot aren't just on tour. They're on the run. 
When we meet in a secret location in central London, they make it clear that this interview is on condition of anonymity. The Russian punk-feminist protest group, two of whose members are currently travelling the world, talking to activists and journalists and raising support for their band-mates in prison, are wanted by their government, who have branded them extremists for their stand against religious patriarchy and the Putin regime. It will be illegal to read or share this article in Russia.  
“There’s a media war in our country,” says the one who, today, is calling herself 'Serafima', whispering painfully through a sore throat. Since three members of the group, Yekaterina Samutsevich, Maria Alyokhina and Nadya Tolokonnikova, were tried and sent to labour camps last year, Pussy Riot has been attacked in almost every press outlet in Russia. The international outcry on their behalf goes unmarked. “Katya did not realise there was so much support until she was released. When we were in Russia, we didn’t fully understand, but now we see there truly is huge support,” says Serafima. She asks for a translation of a German proverb she knows: “Nobody is a prophet in their own country.”
23 JUN 2013
Pussy Riot: 'We're not frightened - and we're not just stupid girls'
By Harriet Alexander
June 22, 2013
They are an internationally-known group of activists – and yet no one knows their names. They seek publicity for their "punk protests" – and yet their voices and faces are disguised. They are underground, out of the mainstream – and yet beloved by Madonna.
Pussy Riot are nothing if not contradictory.
"First and foremost we are artists," said 'Schumacher' – one of two members of the "feminist punk protest collective" that travelled to London as part of a tour promoting their cause. The women are not wearing their trademark balaclavas, yet do not wish to be identified in any way, meeting in secret at a cloak-and-dagger gathering in the capital.
"Some of us might be more focused on legal issues at the moment, and others on music," she said. "But we are a strong union. The perception of us might have changed, but we are still artists."
To say that the perception of them has changed is something of an understatement.
20 JUN 2013
Show Trials and Sympathy
By Sophie Pinkham
June 19, 2013
Last week, a new documentary about Pussy Riot aired on HBO. Two anonymous Pussy Riot members attended the premiere in New York, bumping shoulders with Salman Rushdie and Patti Smith but skipping the “Riotinis” at the Russian-themed SoHo afterparty. One year after the trial, the world is still on a first name basis with Nadya Tolokonnikova, Masha Alyokhina, and Katya Samutsevich, the “Pussy Riot girls,” the ones who got caught. 
The Pussy Riot trial was only the first in a string of pseudo-legal proceedings meant to punish the opposition and teach the public a lesson, but it’s still the one that’s made the biggest splash abroad. The prosecutions of Aleksei Navalny, one of the Russian opposition’s strongest leaders, and of twenty-seven people arrested in connection with the political demonstrations on Moscow’s Bolotnaya Square have been equally absurd, hollow, and unfair. But they haven’t become pop culture phenomena in the way the Pussy Riot trial did; they don’t have the same simple hook or punk rock appeal. 
Any trial that exists only to justify punishment is a kind of “show trial,” a performance rather than a judgment. Such trials have a long history in Russia. In the 19th century, Russia’s greatest lexicographer recorded proverbs and sayings that included, “Where there’s a court, there is falsehood,” and “Go before God with the truth, but before the courts with money.” Show trials come in many flavors, though Stalin’s are the ones we remember best. The stakes in the recent trials have been far lower than those in Stalinist trials: fortunately, no one was ever at risk of being shot. Putin doesn’t have Stalin’s iron grip, and in all of the politically motivated trials of the last year there have been plenty of loud, dissenting voices, both inside and outside the courtroom. In fact, these modern show trials have more in common with the lesser-known trials of the Brezhnev era and late imperial Russia, periods that saw authoritarian governments losing control of their narrative, upstaged by another, more compelling show—the defense.
24 APR 2013
Russia: Worst Human Rights Climate in Post-Soviet Era
Selected From Human Rights Watch
April 24, 2013
(Moscow) – The Russian government has unleashed a crackdown on civil society in the year since Vladimir Putin’s return to the presidency that is unprecedented in the country’s post-Soviet history.
The 78-page report, “Laws of Attrition: Crackdown on Russia’s Civil Society after Putin’s Return to the Presidency,”describes some of the changes since Putin returned to the presidency in May 2012. The authorities have introduced a series of restrictive laws, begun a nationwide campaign of invasive inspections of nongovernmental organizations, harassed, intimidated, and in a number of cases imprisonedpolitical activists, and sought to cast government critics as clandestine enemies. The report analyzes the new laws, including the so-called “foreign agents” law, the treason law, and the assembly law, and documents how they have been used.
“The new laws and government harassment are pushing civil society activists to the margins of the law,” said Hugh Williamson, Europe and Central Asia director at Human Rights Watch. “The government crackdown is hurting Russian society and harming Russia’s international standing.”
Many of the new laws and the treatment of civil society violate Russia’s international human rights commitments, Human Rights Watch said.
11 APR 2013
Jailed Pussy Riot member Nadezhda Tolokonnikova to continue activism
Miriam Elder
The Guardian
April 8, 2013
A member of the anti-Kremlin punk band Pussy Riot has vowed to continue her work as a political artist in her first interview with the western media since being sent to prison eight months ago.
Nadezhda "Nadya" Tolokonnikova, 23, sounded defiant in the 15-minute telephone interview from her prison colony in Mordovia, a central Russian region infamous for its high number of prison camps. She has been at the distant women's penal colony since October, serving the remainder of a two-year sentence on charges of "hooliganism motivated by religious hatred".
Tolokonnikova and two other members of Pussy Riot, Maria Alyokhina and Yekaterina Samutsevich, were found guilty in August last year after they performed a song criticising Vladimir Putin and the Russian Orthodox church in Moscow's Christ the Saviour Cathedral. Samutsevich was later given a suspended sentence.
In a phonecall monitored by prison officials, who repeatedly interrupted the conversation in order to prevent Tolokonnikova from talking about politics, the Pussy Riot founder said she had no hope that Putin's government would release her early.
A court in Mordovia is due to hold a parole hearing in Tolokonnikova's case on 26 April. Although the interview was held one day after the parole hearing date was set, Tolokonnikova, who has been kept largely in an information vacuum, said she had not heard the news.
"For me, the parole hearing means nothing," she said. "In our case, the government wants us to recognise our guilt, which of course we won't do," Tolokonnikova said. "I submitted the parole documents to show that they cannot break a person."
Pussy Riot's supporters have accused Putin of orchestrating the case against them. The women carried out their 40-second cathedral performance in the runup to a contested March presidential election that brought Putin back to the Kremlin. The highly publicised trial against them signalled the start of a sweeping crackdown on the opposition.
Tolokonnikova has also continued to appeal against her guilty verdict through the Moscow court system, and is one step away from it reaching the country's pliant supreme court. Late on Sunday, a leading judge in the Moscow appeals court denied that the case against the women of Pussy Riot was political. "We don't hear political cases," Olga Yegorova said in an interview with state-run NTV television. "It is in my power to lessen their sentence – it's not excluded that that will happen."
The case against Pussy Riot, conducted at lightning speed and rife with procedural abnormalities, highlighted the politicised nature of Russia's court system. Their guilty verdict sent a warning signal to the largely young and urban opposition, while the state's representation of Pussy Riot's performance as an attack on the church pandered to the post-Soviet growth in religious sentiment in the Russian heartland.
The next political trial due to shake the nation is that of the opposition leader Alexey Navalny, whose trial is set to start in the city of Kirov, 500 miles from Moscow, on 17 April. He has been charged with embezzlement in a case he believes has been designed to silence him.
Before being cut off by a prison official, Tolokonnikova said: "I hope they don't have the impudence to jail him – because, after all, he is even more of a media figure among the people than the members of Pussy Riot, at least in Russia.
"I'm very happy he exists, as I'm happy that any political activist exists, especially someone who is willing to spend all his time and energy to change the political situation in Russia," she said.
Tolokonnikova spends her days adhering to a strict prison regimen dominated by work in the colony's factory, sewing uniforms for various Russian officials. She said she felt fine and that "it could be worse". She takes medicine daily for persistent headaches.
Asked if she had begun to think about life after prison, Tolokonnikova said: "My life isn't going to change – there will be new key components because of the experience I've gathered here. The vectors of politics and art will continue the same."
The prison routine leaves her little free time. Whatever time she gets goes towards reading books and the many letters from supporters delivered to her twice a week. Any information from the outside world comes from the newspapers and magazines that her relatives bring her during visits.
"I try to use all my time constructively – productively, creatively. I'm trying to learn how to relate to all this with interest, and I think I am achieving it," she said. "If your mood is bad, then time goes slow. If you learn to live paying attention to life and valuing it, even here, then time isn't lost.
"That's my main task: to make it so that the time they tried to take from me isn't lost. And I think I am successful."
04 MAR 2013
A Pale Reflection of Reality
March 4, 2013
By MASHA GESSEN for the NY Times
MOSCOW — The press materials called it “political theater.” Last Friday through Sunday, three of the most important Russian political trials of the last decade were to be re-enacted in compressed form by people who had either taken part in them or might have taken part in them. Staged by the Swiss director Milo Rau, the “Moscow Trials” series was being performed at the Andrei Sakharov Museum and Public Center, itself a contested space. It would be filmed, for airing on television, presumably anywhere but in Russia, where a Western view of these trials could hardly be broadcast to a wide audience.
14 JAN 2013
The Political World of Moscow Theater

14 January 2013
John Freedman
selected from The Moscow Times
The latest installment of an ongoing project conducted by director Varvara Faer at Teatr.doc. Titled "Theater of Witnesses. Pussy Riot," it is a mix of theater, film, journalism and reality show crammed into a single event, whose purpose is to keep attention focused on the plight of Nadezhda Tolokonnikova and Maria Alyokhina, the two women sentenced last year to two years in prison for their "punk rock" protest against PresidentVladimir Putinat Moscow's Christ the Savior Cathedral.
Faer mounts these evenings from time to time, inviting as participants activists who are close to Tolokonnikova and Alyokhina. On Wednesday Tolokonnikova's father and Alyokhina's mother were in attendance, although they did not participate. Most of what could be called a theatricalized press conference focused on Yekaterina Samutsevich, a Pussy Riot member whose conviction was overturned in October, and Taisia Krugovykh, an activist, video artist and friend of the Pussy Riot members.
Krugovykh, who often travels to visit Tolokonnikova and Alyokhina in prison, showed video footage of the penal colonies, and described her experiences with the authorities and the prisoners.
When visiting Tolokonnikova in her prison in Mordovia, Krugovykh "was not allowed to touch her for fear that I might pass her drugs," she explained with a dry laugh.
"There is nothing in these towns," she declared as seemingly endless footage of a cement wall topped by curled barbed wire ran on a makeshift screen. "Just people working at the prisons. You can drive two hours and see nothing but walls."
Alyokhina is allowed to watch video films in her isolation cell in the prison at Berezniki in Perm Krai, said Krugovykh, although the authorities confiscated a film by Jean-Luc Godard because it contained scenes of nudity. "She can't watch films with nudity or about rebellion, revolution or escape from prison," the activist said.
Read Full Article in The Moscow Times

The Accidental Autocrat - By Paul Starobin - The Atlantic Monthly - 2005/03 - Reprint

The Accidental Autocrat


Vladimir Putin is not a democrat. Nor is he a czar like Alexander III, a paranoid like Stalin, or a religious nationalist like Dostoyevsky. But he is a little of all these—which is just what Russians seem to want
Like many Russians, Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin is a late riser. Sometimes he doesn't roll out of bed until 11:00 A.M. Russia's president lives with his wife, Lyudmila, and two teenage daughters, Maria and Katerina, about twenty-five miles west of the center of Moscow, at Novo Ogarevo, a country estate dotted with white birch and pine trees that was built in the late nineteenth century for a son of Czar Alexander II. The neighborhood is now a haven for wealthy Russians, who have constructed opulent and often tasteless dachas. Trim and fit for his fifty-two years, Putin usually starts his mornings with a vigorous workout in the compound's small indoor pool. (The butterfly stroke is a favorite.) The grounds contain stables, a recently restored Orthodox church, a vegetable plot, and a helipad, and Putin sometimes spends the day working at Novo Ogarevo, receiving visitors there rather than at the Kremlin. In any case, he seldom leaves for the office much before noon.
From Atlantic Unbound:

"Parsing Putin" (February 24, 2005)
Paul Starobin, the author of "The Accidental Autocrat," on the complex and inscrutable character of Russia's president.
On days that he does go to the office, Putin speeds across the Moscow River in the back seat of his armored Mercedes Pullman and then cruises down the Novy Arbat, a garish boulevard bordered by neon-lit casinos, sushi bars, and ugly Soviet-era high-rise office buildings. Putin's motorcade deposits him inside the Kremlin walls, near his office in the Old Senate, a mustard-colored neoclassical building commissioned by Catherine the Great in the 1770s. Lenin made his headquarters here after the 1917 Revolution, when the Bolsheviks moved the capital to Moscow from imperial St. Petersburg.
Putin's office, in the northwest corner of the second floor, affords a view of Red Square. The office is spare and impersonal, with a somewhat antiquated feel. It has a clunky television and a bank of several dozen phones with heavy handsets—direct lines to the offices of Putin's Kremlin aides and other senior officials. Down the corridor, in a remodeled set of rooms that once contained Stalin's living quarters, is a small candlelit Orthodox chapel with icon paintings on the walls. Putin's immediate predecessor, Boris Yeltsin, had the chapel built but rarely entered it (according to what Putin told one visitor); Putin, in contrast, goes there very often. His private dining room, also on the second floor, contains a collection of bottles of Spanish red wine, one of his favorites. He likes to wash down his appetizers—what the Russians call zakuski, which are often the tastiest part of a meal—with a couple of shots of vodka, and to end his repast with a cognac from Dagestan, a province in Russia's troubled northern Caucasus. (Yeltsin's popularity, and Russia's image, suffered from his occasional displays of public drunkenness; Putin benefits from a reputation for sobriety and takes care to imbibe modestly in public.) He sometimes has dinner at the Kremlin, but more often heads back to Novo Ogarevo, where his work continues. Sipping cups of tea, Putin frequently works past midnight. An aide told me that "VVP," as his staff members sometimes refer to him, never hits the sack before 2:00 A.M.
The Russians have a saying: "Tyajela ti shapka manomakha"—"The crown of the czar is very heavy." On September 1 of last year a group of heavily armed men and women seized a middle school in Beslan, a railway-junction town in North Ossetia, a northern Caucasian province. They herded twelve hundred hostages, most of them children, into the gymnasium and wired it with explosives. The hostage-takers were Islamic militants; the operation was apparently organized by Shamil Basayev, a warlord whom Putin has likened to Osama bin Laden and who is leading a decade-old insurgency in the Caucasian republic of Chechnya and seeking to widen the rebellion to surrounding, largely Muslim provinces. (North Ossetia, an exception in the region, is predominantly Orthodox Christian.) The insurgents boasted of having made their way to the school by bribing the police at checkpoints along their route. "All your officials are mendacious and corrupt," one hostage recalls being told. Russian special forces surrounded the school. After a fifty-two-hour standoff a bomb exploded in the gym, perhaps accidentally, precipitating an hours-long firefight that killed some 330 of the hostages and wounded about 700.
On the day after the bloodbath Putin addressed the nation on television from the Kremlin. He seemed stripped raw; the brief clip I caught on the news was painful to watch. "It is a difficult and bitter task for me to speak," he began. "During these last few days each one of us suffered immensely." The thrust of his message was shame and embarrassment that Russians, "living in conditions formed after the disintegration of a huge, great country," had failed to pay enough attention to their defenses. "We demonstrated weakness, and the weak are beaten." His face was drained of color. I wondered if he was in shock.
But he soon rallied, unveiling in the days that followed a series of measures designed, he said, "to put right the system of power and management in the country." One measure was to end the popular election of regional governors and have the Kremlin appoint them instead, subject to confirmation by regional legislatures. In the West a chorus of critics decried a retreat to Russia's authoritarian past. Such criticism, though a bit sanctimonious, is reasonably well grounded: in the years since an ailing Yeltsin appointed him Russia's president, on December 31, 1999, Putin has in numerous ways tried to reassert Kremlin control over the country. (Voters ratified Yeltsin's choice in a March 2000 election, and elected Putin to a second four-year term in March of 2004.) But the West's concerns nevertheless struck me as out of touch with the anxieties and priorities of ordinary Russians. I lived and worked in Russia from 1999 to 2003, as the Moscow bureau chief of BusinessWeek, and most of the Russians I met (with the exception of those in the liberal intelligentsia) were supportive of the general direction of Putin's leadership. In fact, the majority of the criticism I heard came from people who felt that he was not authoritarian enough.
Putin is a difficult character study. An ex-KGB colonel, he is at times deliberately indistinct. And his secretive and tight-knit court tends to operate according to the old Russian village principle of "Iz izby soru ne vynesi"—literally, "Do not carry rubbish out of the hut." In the emerging school of Putinology, theories abound as to what makes him tick. Many analysts emphasize his intelligence training and his Soviet-era background. Alexander Rahr, the author of a biography of Putin calling him "the German in the Kremlin," sees him instead in the context of his KGB posting in Dresden and his affinity for German culture (he speaks German fluently). Others see a somewhat ambivalent Putin, split—as Russians often are—between an outward-facing Western orientation and an inward-looking Slavophilic one. The boisterous, red-faced Yeltsin—that bear of a man—more naturally fit the Western idea of a Russian leader. But Putin is as much a product of the Russian environment and heritage as Yeltsin was. In fact, Putin's Russianness, in the broadest sense, is the key to his character; in certain respects his rule is re-enacting distinctive Russian political traditions.
Understanding Putin requires exploring three core aspects of his political and personal character: the fighter, the Chekist, and the believer. These roughly correspond to Putin's instincts, his professional training and methods, and his religious and patriotic convictions. The parts may seem not to fit, but that is often the case with Russia's rulers. (After all, Stalin, the "Red Czar," was trained in a Georgian seminary.) Putin is best understood not as a divided character but as an integrated if complicated one: the Russian in the Kremlin.
The Fighter
In First Person (2000), a collection of interviews with and about him, Vladimir Putin mentions being beaten by stronger children in his rough-and-tumble neighborhood in Leningrad. It's not clear whether he was generally the instigator of the combat or responding to taunts and insults he felt should not go unchallenged. In any case, he resolved to fortify himself. "As soon as it became clear that my pugnacious nature was not going to keep me king of the courtyard or schoolgrounds," he said, "I decided to go into boxing." After getting his nose broken, he took up sambo, a Soviet combination of judo and wrestling, and finally settled on judo. He devoted himself to rigorous workouts and became a black belt and a city-wide champion. He fought like a "snow leopard," his coach once said, "determined to win at any cost."
The wonder is that he even made it into childhood. Two older brothers had died of illnesses, one in infancy and the other at age five. When Vladimir was born, on October 7, 1952, his mother was forty-one, and her prenatal health had no doubt been poor. A decade earlier, during the Nazi siege of Leningrad, there were mass deaths from starvation; "Mama herself was half dead," Putin recalls in First Person. His father, recuperating in a hospital from severe leg wounds caused by German shrapnel, gave her his food. After the war "Papa" went to work as a laborer at a train-car factory. He was given a room in a fifth-floor communal walk-up at 12 Baskov Lane, where Putin grew up, about a twenty-minute stroll from Nevsky Prospekt, the city's main thoroughfare. There were "hordes of rats" in the front entryway, which the young Putin chased with sticks. Once, he cornered one—only to have it rush at him. Frightened, Putin slammed the door shut "in its nose."
I recently came across an intriguing hypothesis about Putin's survival skills. Brenda L. Connors, a senior fellow in the strategic-research department of the Naval War College, in Newport, Rhode Island, is both a former State Department protocol and political-affairs officer and a onetime soloist with the Erick Hawkins Dance Company. Her field of study is a distinctive one: she is a certified "movement analyst." Because of her experience greeting Mikhail Gorbachev and other global figures and her study of modern dance, Connors became intrigued by how body movement—everything from a particular way of walking to hand gestures and facial expressions—constitutes a language for conveying not only emotion but also leadership styles and behavioral patterns. From close analysis of physical traits, captured on tape and examined with the help of experts in medicine, psychology, anthropology, and other fields, she has developed character profiles of a number of world leaders. Her work may sound esoteric, but it is endorsed by, among others, Andrew Marshall, the legendary director of "net assessment" in the Pentagon, and Leon Aron, a leading Russia specialist at the American Enterprise Institute, in Washington, and the author of an acclaimed biography of Yeltsin.
I paid a visit to Connors at her Newport office not long ago. We had chatted on the phone about her work on Putin—in particular about her detection of a striking irregularity in his gait—and I was eager to see her tapes and to hear more. After a tour of her lab we watched a tape she had made of Putin, compiled mostly from Russian television footage. The tape rolled to a shot of Putin at his first inauguration, in the spring of 2000, at the Andrei Hall of the Great Kremlin Palace. "Here's the picture," she said, as we watched Putin enter the hall and stride down a long red carpet. I saw what she meant only when she slowed the tape—and when she did, I was taken aback. Putin's left arm and leg were moving in an easy, natural rhythm. But his right arm, bent at the elbow, moved in a stiff way, as if jerked by the shoulder, and the right leg dragged, without absorbing his full weight. When she replayed the segment at normal speed, it was easy to pick up on the impediment, and then I had no trouble spotting it in other segments. All the momentum and energy in Putin's gait comes from the left side; it is as if the right side is just along for the ride. Even the right side of his torso seems frozen. When he is holding a pen, his right hand appears to have only an awkward, tenuous grasp on it.
Connors has shown footage of Putin's walk to a range of experts, including A. Thomas Pezzella, a cardiac-thoracic surgeon based in St. Louis; two orthopedic surgeons and a physical therapist at the naval hospital in Newport; and Bonnie Bainbridge Cohen, the founder of the School for Body-Mind Centering, in Amherst, Massachusetts, who is certified as something called a neurodevelopmental therapist. They offer a variety of conjectures: Putin could have had a stroke, perhaps suffered in utero; he may be afflicted with, as Pezzella speculates, an Erb's palsy, caused by a forceps tugging on his right shoulder at birth; he could have had polio as a child (polio was epidemic in Europe and western Russia after World War II). The stroke theory is consistent with what appears to be the loss of neural sensation in the fingers of his right hand. (Videotape of Putin at judo matches shows him using his fist, rather than a splayed hand, to push himself up off the mat.) Based on what she has seen and on her consultation with other experts, Connors doubts that Putin ever crawled as an infant; he seems to lack what is called contra-lateral movement and instead tends to move in a head-to-tail pattern, like a fish or a reptile.
Connors believes that Putin's infirmities "created a strong will that he survive and an impetus to balance and strengthen the body." She continues, "When we are unable to do something, really hard work becomes the way." His prowess at judo astonishes her: "He is like that ice skater who had a club foot and became an Olympic skater." Although her research sounds clinical, Connors empathizes with her subject. "It is really poignant to watch him on tape," she says of Putin. "This is a deep, old, profound loss that he has learned to cope with, magnificently." When I heard this, it was impossible for me not to think of another frail child possessed of a fierce will who turned to rigorous physical exercise and pugilism and grew up to be a head of state: Theodore Roosevelt.
Some of Connors's analytical ventures seem unconvincing. She suggests, for example, that Putin's instinct to make himself whole is mirrored in his imperative to keep Russia from breaking up—but any Russian leader would feel a similar sense of duty. The notion that Putin displays reptilian qualities, however, is not as odd as it may sound; even though ontogeny may not exactly recapitulate phylogeny, modern biology does recognize links between embryonic development and the evolutionary sequences. A characteristic of reptiles, Connors says, is that "they patrol their borders, and if an alien enters, lunge reflexively." That is as good a description of Putin's behavior in response to militants in the northern Caucasus as any political analyst has offered.
As the Chechen conflict illustrates, Putin is a ferocious, even pitiless fighter. One need not put stock in Connors's research to see that life does seem to have taught Putin that "the weak are beaten." Post-Soviet Russia's first Chechen war began in 1994, when Yeltsin invaded Chechnya to thwart a drive for sovereignty led by a radical separatist, Dzhokhar Dudayev. After nearly two years of savage fighting, and the assassination of Dudayev, a truce was reached and Russian forces withdrew. But the peace was tenuous. In August of 1999 Basayev, a guerrilla leader in the first war whose cause had taken on an increasingly Islamic cast, led an invasion of neighboring Dagestan with a force of Muslim soldiers that included Dagestani Wahhabis and fighters from Central Asia and the Middle East. Basayev's avowed goal was to create a united Chechen-Dagestani Islamic state.
Days after the invasion Yeltsin appointed Putin prime minister—and in so doing made him heir apparent to the presidency. At the time, Putin was serving as the head of the Federal Security Services, the successor agency to the KGB. Yeltsin was chronically sick and seldom had more than a few good working hours a day. Thus the Chechnya situation was in Putin's hands. Under his leadership Russian forces drove the insurgents out of Dagestan and back into Chechnya. In September, Moscow and several other Russian cities were racked by a wave of apartment bombings—apparently the work of Islamic terrorists, although no one claimed responsibility. An unnerved Russian public behind him, Putin responded with a brutal invasion of Chechnya. Using underworld slang to describe his intentions toward the guerrillas, he promised "mochit' v sortire"—to wipe them out (or, in the literal rendition of the slang, to "make wet" or "make bloody") in the toilet. Chechnya's capital, Grozny, was destroyed by Russian bombers. By the beginning of 2002 Russian forces had control of most of the territory (an area about the size of New Jersey) except for the insurgents' hideouts in mountainous areas, from which they could (and still can) launch small-scale attacks. When I visited Grozny in the fall of 2002, I found a mostly deserted city still in ruins.
Putin's judo training taught him to control his emotions, but when he is angry his outbursts can be not only crude but breathtakingly acerbic. At a press conference in Brussels in November of 2002 a reporter from Le Monde asked him about the use of anti-personnel landmines in Chechnya. When that drew an angry retort from Putin, the reporter followed up with an even more pointed question: "Don't you think that in trying to eradicate terrorism you're going to eradicate the civilian population in Chechnya?" Putin's reply: "If you want to become an Islamic radical and have a circumcision, I invite you to Moscow, because we are a multi-talented country and have specialists there. I recommend that you have the operation done in such a way that nothing else will grow there."
With the evolution of the Chechen conflict into what is essentially a blood feud, Putin is quite right to take it personally. The insurgents have posted a $20 million bounty on his head, and a likely goal is the kidnapping of his teenage daughters. The Russian Orthodox and Islamic cultures are both patriarchal. As a man, and as Russia's symbolic father, Putin is supposed to protect women and children. His tormentors were triumphant when he acknowledged that he had "suffered immensely" from the Beslan ordeal. They had pierced his shield and made him seem womanish. "Putin screamed like a stuck pig," Basayev crowed in a statement posted on a Web site.
Critics in Russia and in the West argue that Putin's harsh policies—not least the indiscriminate destruction of Grozny—invite terrorist retribution against Russian innocents. But he does not see things that way—and even his critics must acknowledge that he has bottled up the Chechen rebellion and the broader territorial aspirations of Basayev's band. Nor is his skepticism about a negotiated settlement unreasonable—Basayev, after all, used the truce agreed to by Yeltsin in 1996 to reorganize and launch a fresh assault. Shortly after the Beslan incident Putin met with a group of Russia watchers from the United States and Europe at Novo Ogarevo. Among them was Alexander Rahr, the Putin biographer. I asked Rahr to describe the president's mindset after Beslan. "Very combative," Rahr said. "He is like a sportsman … He is in the stage of recovering, of building strength, of building muscles, of focusing on the enemy."
The Chekist
In 1932 James Abbe, an American photographer, went to Moscow and managed to talk his way into a rare photo session with Stalin. "My years in the cinema had taught me that eyes are at least 75 percent of any portrait," Abbe later wrote. Stalin, Abbe found, made an extraordinary impression: "As soon as I saw the whites of his eyes I recognized that Stalin has the surgical ability to remove a man's thoughts from his head and sort them out on the table."
Putin, too, has the kind of eyes that give those who meet his gaze the unsettling feeling of being seen through (his are a metallic blue, Stalin's were a feline yellow). Putin's KGB colleagues were struck by "eyes that 'don't let you lie,'" according to a dossier prepared by a Moscow political researcher. In studying Putin on tape Connors has been impressed by both the intensity of his gaze and his listening skills—she calls him "an evaluator extraordinaire." These are strong assets for a Chekist—one who served in a Soviet security agency. (The first Soviet security agency was the Cheka, an acronym for Chrezvychainaya Komissiya, or All-Russian Extraordinary Commission.)
The notion of joining the KGB began as a boyhood dream. Putin was under the influence, he told the compilers of First Person, of spy novels and movies: "What amazed me most of all was how one man's effort could achieve what whole armies could not. One spy could decide the fate of thousands of people." In ninth grade he went to the office of the KGB directorate in Leningrad and declared his interest in a job. He was told that the KGB didn't take people who came in on their own initiative, and that he needed some higher civilian education, such as law school. "From that moment on," Putin said, "I began to prepare for the law faculty of Leningrad University." In his fourth year at the school he was invited to join "the agencies." After graduation, in 1975, he embarked on a sixteen-year career with the KGB, mostly in the foreign-intelligence section. He left the security service after the botched 1991 coup, led by KGB hardliners, that tried to preserve the Soviet Union. The plotters had a "noble" intention, he would later say, but their method was wrong.
Putin the Chekist is a model of cool calculation, elusiveness, and calibratedtactics. He wears casual cynicism like an old cloak—insisting, for example, on his fealty to freedom of the press while re-establishing Kremlin control over the nation's television networks, which during the Yeltsin years were taken over by billionaire oligarchs with their own political agendas. His Chekist mentality seems to reveal less an active antipathy toward democracy than an impatience with its inherent untidiness.
One of the happier results of Putin's vocational schooling is an attention to organization and detail. Rabbi Beryl Lazar, a leader of the Russian Jewish community, told me a tale of his efficiency-mindedness. A few years ago, at a regular meeting with Putin in the Kremlin, Lazar brought up the difficulty faced by a young Moscow woman who had removed an anti-Semitic sign from a roadside, only to trigger a rigged explosive that severely burned and nearly blinded her. The woman was getting hassled by her neighbors, Lazar told Putin, and wished to relocate to an apartment in another neighborhood. Lazar wasn't sure that Putin was paying close attention. He left Putin's office but was stopped downstairs at a guard's station and told to go back. An aide said Putin had rung up Moscow's mayor, Yuri Luzhkov, to talk about the apartment, and that Luzhkov was waiting to meet with Lazar. It may be that Putin handles such tasks himself because he lacks confidence that they will otherwise get done. "He gets extremely frustrated with the incompetence of the state," the rabbi told me.
One would expect a fellow of Putin's trade to be suspicious, and indeed, even those kindly disposed toward him say that he can be excessively mistrustful. Perhaps only half a dozen people have his full confidence, and nearly all of them he has known for years. That group is something like a clan; the Moscow political analyst Olga Kryshtanovskaya told me that Putin has in effect re-created a Soviet-style politburo. But even in his lair, among team members, Putin tends to withhold. In meetings he "never commits himself," one Moscow insider who has observed Putin in private group settings told me. His two closest Kremlin aides are ex-KGB. One, Igor Sechin, a squeaky-voiced veteran of the Soviet Union's campaign to aid Communist proxies in Angola, guards Putin's paper flow, among other duties. The other, Viktor Ivanov, a veteran of the failed Afghanistan venture in the 1980s, has a portfolio that includes vetting government appointments and advising on Chechnya policy. Both are known for their animus toward Western-style Russian liberals, with whom Putin himself has been intermittently friendly. Many Kremlin watchers believe that Putin's smartest aide is Vladislav Surkov, the one person in the inner circle whom Putin didn't know before becoming president. Surkov, who handles political operations and relations with the Duma, is half Chechen but second to none in his hard line on Chechnya issues.
Perhaps the best illustration of Putin's repertoire of Chekist skills can be seen in his dealings with the oligarchs, who infiltrated Yeltsin's Kremlin, made fortunes in rigged privatization auctions, and seemed to regard the state as their private preserve. On joining the Kremlin staff in 1996 Putin worked among the oligarchs and their protectors in the Kremlin—a group, including one of Yeltsin's daughters, known as the Family. He could never have moved up the ladder, and surely not to the position of prime minister, without the Family's blessing, and indeed, he came to be accepted as one of them. So when he got the nod as president, they figured all would be business as usual. "He won't try to arrest or screw the oligarchs," Mikhail Fridman, a billionaire with oil and banking interests, told me at the time.
But as soon became clear, Putin viewed the oligarchs much the way ordinary Russians did: as gangsters with an insidious grip on the levers of political power. He proceeded to break their hold, using every pressure point possible. His first target was Vladimir Gusinsky, a media baron who had helped bankroll Yeltsin's 1996 election and whose financial empire had debts guaranteed by a state-controlled company. Gusinsky was arrested and jailed on charges of embezzling state property. He signed away his business interests in return for being allowed to go into exile in the West. Putin's next target, the flamboyant Boris Berezovsky, who had served in Yeltsin's administration and actively assisted in Putin's rise, fled the country rather than face a likely embezzlement charge.
After the departures of Berezovsky and Gusinsky, Putin and the oligarchs established an unwritten pact: the remaining magnates could keep their fortunes and their freedom as long as they stayed out of the political arena. But the oil baron Mikhail Khodorkovsky tested Putin by declaring his intention of bankrolling opposition political parties. Putin sent a warning shot: the arrest of one of Khodorkovsky's partners. But Khodorkovsky persisted, and in the pre-dawn hours one fall morning in 2003 he was apprehended in his private airplane, which was on a refueling stop in Siberia. He is jailed in Moscow, while his trial for fraud and tax evasion drags on. Khodorkovsky's company, Yukos, which tax authorities slapped with billions of dollars in claims, is being broken up, with the most valuable pieces turned over to a state-owned company. The Chekists play to win.
In the West the Khodorkovsky affair sparked indignation over Putin's manipulation of law-enforcement bodies and the courts. But in Russia, although nobody believes that Putin is observing the rule of law, most ordinary citizens and members of the political elite (again, aside from liberals) support his maneuvers. "Misha violated the rules he agreed to before," Mikhail Margelov, a former KGB official who is now a member of the Duma, says of Khodorkovsky. (The liberal political leader and banker Boris Nemtsov characterizes Putin as typically Russian in his adherence to po ponyatiyam—"underground agreements"—rather than law.) Even many expatriate Western investors in Russia are behind Putin. William Browder, a former Wall Street investment banker who manages Hermitage Capital, a Moscow-based investment fund, frames the matter this way: "We have two choices. We can have the rule of the mafia or an authoritarian president." However rough his methods, Putin's tenure has been accompanied by steady economic growth and the creation of an entrepreneurial middle class in Moscow, St. Petersburg, and other large cities.
There is not so much an emerging rule of law in Russia as an emerging rule of Putin. Thus one abiding question is whether Putin can resist the bounty at his feet. Cynicism is pervasive: the general feeling is that it would take a Herculean effort on Putin's part not to grab some choice morsels. "The jury is out" on whether Putin is driven principally by patriotic or selfish motives, a well-informed U.S. official told me recently. I find that Russians tend to think Putin may be both selfish and patriotic, on the logic that it is okay for a leader to take a cut for himself as long as the first, best cut goes to the country. Putin has certainly upgraded himself sartorially, but nobody has detected any lavish displays of wealth. His salary is about 150,000 rubles—or $5,000—a month.
The Believer
The Sretensky Monastery, a twenty-minute walk north from the Kremlin on Bolshaya Lubyanka street, was founded in 1397 on sacred national soil: the spot where Muscovites had met a delegation of Orthodox priests from the Russian city of Vladimir, who had brought with them an icon to save Moscow from the infidel warrior Tamerlane. Legend has it that at that very moment Tamerlane had a vision of the Holy Mother, who ordered him to spare Moscow. He fled. In 1925 the monastery was commandeered by Chekists, who razed churches, massacred believers, and built a dormitory for officers. In 1995 the Sretensky Monastery was reopened; these days it is thriving, with a new bell tower, a renovated chapel, a busy bookstore, a memorial to the martyred victims of the Cheka, and a seminary. On a drizzly Wednesday morning I strolled through the gates and past a garden of ferns and red roses, and knocked on the door of Father Tikhon, the monastery's abbot and Putin's personal confessor.
Father Tikhon would not confirm this relationship; church rules don't allow him to say whether a babushka is confessing to him, never mind Russia's president. But the person confessing is free to acknowledge the tie, and the Kremlin did so on the president's behalf. Putin, who was secretly baptized by his mother (she didn't want his father to know), met Father Tikhon well before becoming president, according to the Kremlin. They now get together wherever and whenever Putin wishes. For the Russian Orthodox, the confession is an elaborate, intimate institution; the obligation is very much on the side of the confessing party, and there is great reverence for the confessor. "One must consult him on all matters, receive him lovingly, and bow to him," saysDomostroi, a sixteenth-century manual that offers directions for daily life based on Orthodox principles.
I approached my meeting with Father Tikhon with curiosity but also a bit of apprehension. From what I had been able to glean, he has a reputation for being an opportunistic church politician; he has close connections not only to Putin but also to other powerful government officials who have backgrounds in the KGB. He is also reported to hold crudely nationalistic views. In the summer of 1998 the British writer Victoria Clark interviewed him for her book Why Angels Fall, about Orthodoxy in Eastern Europe and Russia. Clark's book describes Father Tikhon as a "sharp-eyed, wiry young monk with a straggling flame-red beard," and quotes him as asserting that the gulags were set up by Jews.
When I met Father Tikhon, now approaching fifty, his beard had turned from flame-red to rust-brown, but he still looked slim and youthful. He wore a black frock and a crucifix on a chain that hung down to his abdomen; his long hair was tied neatly in a ponytail. We sat close together at a round wooden table on which he deposited two cell phones. Against my expectations, I found him disarming and easy to talk to.
I tried to draw him out about Putin by suggesting that the leader of Russia had a spiritual role to play. He gave me a quizzical look and asked what I meant. The leader's job, I replied, is not simply to defend the state, the territory of Russia, but to be a kind of custodian for the idea of Russia and a protector of the national soul. That last thought brought forth a stream of words. "You feel it exactly right," Father Tikhon told me. "The importance of the first person [he used the phrase 'pervoye litso,' which translates as 'first face' or 'first image'] is overwhelming, much more important than in America." And this, he went on, can be for good or ill. Under Czar Alexander III—"a very strong czar" who famously said that Russia had no allies but its army and navy—Russia was formidable, on a par with the European powers. Lenin, in contrast, "was a man of no principles, a monster, [who] turned Russia into a monster." As for Yeltsin, he was frivolous, "not sober," and during his tenure Russia became wobbly and threatened to break into pieces.
So what, I asked, is Putin's image and example for Russia? "Work," Father Tikhon began. "Work is part and parcel of his personality." Putin sets a "very important" moral example "for all of us, and for Russia in general," Father Tikhon said, by being the first true Christian head of state since the last czar, Nicholas II. (Orthodox leaders view Yeltsin as an atheist, his occasional appearances in church notwithstanding.) And Putin, he continued, stands for national strength: he knows, like Alexander III, that Russia can count only on itself. "Russia has no allies but its weakened army and weakened navy," Father Tikhon said with a wan smile. He praised Putin for taking a necessary stand against Islamic extremism in the northern Caucasus, and suggested that Western society—"weak and decadent," especially in Europe—is not up to the challenge presented by an "aggressive" Islamic culture bent on "world domination."
Just about the only time he bridled in the course of our two-hour talk was when I said that many in the West were coming to view Putin as a traitor to the cause of democracy in Russia. I cited Putin's decision to have regional governors appointed by the Kremlin. "It is a step forward, it is progress," Father Tikhon responded with vehemence. "We should distinguish between two things, democracy and chaos … These governors are like czars—their power is overwhelming, and with the level of corruption in society, many governors abuse their power." (Many Russians would second this point.) "I am surprised by Western leaders who viewed Yeltsin as a bulwark of democracy and demand going back to his time." He offered an analogy: just as a diver cannot be brought too quickly out of the depths, Russia must gradually adapt to a new form of society.
I had heard from several sources that Putin's inner circle generally views Orthodox belief as a positive attribute for members of the government. I asked Father Tikhon specifically about a Gogolesque tale I had heard regarding Viktor Ivanov, Putin's trusted Kremlin aide who vets candidates for appointments to the federal ministries. Someone had told me, I said, that one such candidate was brought to Ivanov in the Kremlin, who asked him his view of the Orthodox Church. The fellow said he had a favorable opinion. If that's so, Ivanov replied, then would he mind being baptized? The fellow said he was willing. Ivanov thereupon called Father Tikhon, got in a car with the candidate, and motored off to have the man baptized. I put it to Father Tikhon: a true story? He offered an enigmatic smile. "Not only members of the government are going through baptism, but a great many others," he replied, adding that adult-size baptismal fonts had become common in churches.
Before I left, I asked Father Tikhon whether he really believed that the Jews had set up the gulag camps. "Everyone set them up," he replied. "But if we look objectively at historical facts, we can see that in the leadership of the gulags were a lot of Jews. After the Revolution the role of Jews in Russia was very special. No one can deny it."
Why would Putin be willing to associate himself, at risk to his reputation, with someone who holds such views? It is sometimes said in Moscow that Putin harbors animosity toward Muslims—but not that he is an anti-Semite. Beryl Lazar notes that Russia under Putin has opened its doors to thousands of Jews who left for Israel during Soviet times but are now petitioning to return.
I'm convinced that Putin's religious convictions are genuine. I know strict Orthodox observers who have minutely studied his behavior in church, where his body language could betray him as ill-informed or a casual believer, and he passes their test. As for the vision of Russia that Father Tikhon sketches, a return to what might be called Patriotic Orthodoxy (like the philosophy that guided Russia in pre-revolutionary times), I don't think that is where Putin started out when he took over as president, but I do think it is where he is headed. The notion of a Chekist's coming of age in a culture of enforced atheism and then turning to Orthodoxy as a pillar of his rule is not as odd as it may sound. According to the memoirs of the KGB officer Filipp Bobkov, during Putin's time in the KGB there was a wide-ranging internal discussion "about how destructive the nihilist attitude toward religion was for the country."
I suspect Putin recognizes that Soviet ideology has little appeal to Russians, other than to a dying class of pensioners. But he seems to believe that Patriotic Orthodoxy, which—like Soviet ideology—is compatible with a highly centralized state and a strongman ruler, can take root and help morally regenerate the nation. There is also a psychological compatibility: the basic tenet of Patriotic Orthodoxy—that only Russia can help Russia—is akin to his personal conviction that strength comes from within, that he can count only on himself.
Putin is trying to increase his prestige by repairing a fracture in the Orthodox Church that occurred eight decades ago, when a group of anti-Soviet exiles established their own wing, the Orthodox Church Abroad. Putin and Father Tikhon have met with leaders of this group in New York, and a deal is pending that would reunite the church under the umbrella of the Moscow patriarchate, which already ministers to believers in former Soviet republics such as Latvia and Ukraine. This would be a historic triumph for Putin in his ambition to be seen as a consolidator of the Russian nation. Meanwhile, he is jettisoning some of Russia's Soviet baggage in favor of old-Russia symbols. In place of the national holiday that honored the October 1917 Revolution he has established a "Day of National Unity" on the anniversary of a seventeenth-century uprising led by a Moscow prince against Polish invaders who were trying to force Roman Catholicism on Russians.
Father Tikhon told me that Russia is in the throes of a religious revival. Perhaps so. In Moscow last summer crowds in a mile-long line waited for more than three hours to enter the Church of Christ the Savior, near Red Square, to view an especially revered Orthodox icon, the Virgin of Tikhvin, which had been returned after six decades of safekeeping in the United States. For many Russians who came of age in the Soviet period, a turn to Orthodoxy is unlikely; the youth of Russia, however, are another story. A pro-Putin youth group organized by the Kremlin, Idushie Vmeste ("Moving Together"), represents a kind of model for how Patriotic Orthodoxy aims to renew Russia. The group is against abortion (Russia has one of the highest rates in the world) and informs recruits about the Orthodox tradition of having large families. Members help at orphanages and hand out small crosses on street corners. The group's recommended-reading list steers clear of edgy post-Soviet writers and instead features reliable old masters such as Pasternak and Chekhov. I dropped in on the group's Moscow headquarters on a visit last spring, and had a pleasant chat with the chief librarian, twenty-year-old Irina Shevalkina. "The Russian national idea is Orthodox, and it is very beautiful," she told me.
The liberal newsweekly Itogi, in a recent interview with Valentina Matvienko, a Putin ally who is the governor of St. Petersburg, asked whether it wouldn't be better for Russia to have a parliamentary republic, headed by a prime minister and with no president. "No, this doesn't fit us," Matvienko replied. "We are not ready for such an experiment. The Russian mentality needs a baron, a czar, a president … In one word, a boss." When I read that comment, I thought of Stalin, who once said very much the same thing: "The people need a czar whom they can worship and for whom they can live and work."
The idea that a "wild" Russia can be tamed only by a strongman may be a myth, but it is a resonant one, arising in part from Orthodox teaching but also from the "times of trouble" that have periodically plagued this vast land over the centuries. Putin filled a vacuum created by the abrupt Soviet collapse. It could easily have been someone else—he might, in this sense, be called the Accidental Autocrat. No matter: the liberal intelligentsia has come to despise him. "Nothing could be worse than Putin," Anna Politkovskaya, an award-winning Russian investigative journalist, recently told The Independent of London. But surely the complaint is as much about Russia as about Putin. For more than two hundred years Russian liberals have been driven to exasperation by Russia's failure to become a second edition of, say, France. And in post-Soviet Russia the liberals have failed to marshal broad popular support for their agenda. Liberalism has become indelibly identified with the trauma and economic crime of the Yeltsin years. The liberal leader Irina Khakamada told me that the following for "decentralized power" and other Western-style liberal policies is no more than 10 or 15 percent of the population. Liberalism's "brief spring" is over, she said.
There are, in any case, possibilities "worse than Putin"—further toward the chauvinistic, authoritarian extreme. Competition comes, for instance, from the Rodina ("Motherland") Party, which was created by the Kremlin to siphon votes away from the Communists but has become a mini-monster in its own right. I paid a visit to one of the party's ideologues, Mikhail Delyagin, a thirty-six-year-old economist. He criticized Putin as a "bourgeois person" who spends too much time on downhill-skiing vacations in Austria. In contrast there was Stalin, "who had Spartan tastes, who wore cheap, inexpensive clothes and darned socks." Still more noxious is the writer Eduard Limonov, who heads the National Bolshevik Party and holds up Slobodan Milosevic as a model leader.
In any event, there is probably little the West can do to persuade Putin to change his course. "Each country looks for the most effective way to organize state power," he said in a November interview on Russian television before leaving for Santiago, where global leaders were gathering for the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation summit. In a tête-à-têe on the sidelines of the summit President George W. Bush raised concerns about a concentration of power in the Kremlin. Putin responded with a history lesson on the complexities of political development in Russia. To be a Russian, or at least to be a proud, historically attuned Russian like Putin, is to feel both a certain suspicion of and a certain resentment toward the West. The suspicion, a legacy of the Cold War that is reinforced by Putin's Chekist and Orthodox mindsets, is that the West (especially America) aims to keep Russia weak. Putin's clumsy intervention in Ukraine's presidential election late last year, on behalf of a pro-Russian candidate, stemmed in part from a belief that the United States and Europe were trying to pull toward their side a country traditionally under Russian economic and political influence. His outlook may strike Westerners as paranoid—but consider the perspective from Moscow. Since the end of the Cold War three former Soviet republics (Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia) have joined NATO, and the United States has put military bases in two others (Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan). Ukraine itself is a future candidate for NATO. "Putin perceives that the West is ganging up on him," Michael McFaul, a veteran Russia watcher at the Washington office of the Hoover Institution, told me.
Russia's traditional resentment of the West is more intense and complicated, because it is mixed with envy of higher living standards. As the Russians see things, they turned back Napoleon and turned back Hitler, too, after absorbing his most savage blows—and now they are battling it out on the front lines of the war against Islamic barbarism. And yet the West, Russians observe, persists in instructing them on how to behave. Russia's long-standing sense of unappreciated sacrifice puts a chip on its shoulder but is also, in an odd fashion, a source of patriotic pride. Fate, the Russians tend to think, has dealt them history's heavy work. "Oh, don't speak to me of Austria," the salon hostess Anna Pavlovna says at the outset of War and Peace, with Napoleon on the march through Italy. "Russia alone must save Europe."
Russia's constitution limits a president to two four-year terms of office. A much debated question in Moscow is whether Putin will depart at the end of his second term, in March of 2008, or seek to extend his reign through a change in the constitution or some other expedient. Insider opinion is split. Some think he will leave on schedule, with a hand-off to a designated successor, who will face the voters in an election in which the state-run media are all on one side. The public in general, somewhat apathetically, is neither clamoring for him to stay nor bellowing at him to leave. That could change to Putin's detriment if perceptions of corruption in his regime mount, or if the pro-Western "Orange Revolution" in Ukraine gives hope to what has up to now been a weak opposition movement in Russia.
Putin himself, cryptic as ever, is keeping all options open. I asked Brenda Connors, at the Naval War College, for her prediction. If the task-minded Putin thinks his work is not done, she told me, he might try to extend his rule. But she also believes that he is bound to discover that the exercise of the will, which has brought him so far, pays diminishing returns. That sounds right to me. Russia tends to be cruel to its would-be masters. Its abiding harshness creates tough and determined types like Putin, but the country nearly always thwarts them in the end.
Paul Starobin is a contributing editor of The Atlantic and a staff correspondent for National Journal.