Monday 11 March 2024
Alexei Navalny was a Prisoner of Conscience. Was again a Prisoner of Conscience; indeed, was recognized twice. Then he wasn’t. And then his status as a Prisoner of Conscience was restored.
***
Alexei Navalny was a Prisoner of Conscience. Was, not only in the sense that he no longer is alive—hence the past tense: was—but Navalny for a time wasn’t a Prisoner of Conscience because Amnesty International (a global non-governmental organization that advocates and defends human rights, finding its inspiration in The Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948)), the very organization that dubbed Navalny a Prisoner of Conscience, in February 2021:
took an internal decision to stop using the “Prisoner of Conscience” term for Navalny, due to concerns relating to discriminatory statements he made in 2007 and 2008 which may have constituted advocacy of hatred. The Russian government and its supporters used that internal decision, which we had not intended to make public, to further violate Navalny’s rights. That was the height of hypocrisy, coming from a government that not only attempted to kill Navalny by poisoning, but has carried out unconscionable acts over the past two decades, including torture, enforced disappearances and widespread repression of political freedoms in Russia and abroad, as well as war crimes in Syria.[1]
Navalny wasn’t, and then was again a Prisoner of Conscience.
***
Alexei Navalny was a Prisoner of Conscience. Together with Sergei Udaltsov, a left-wing Russian political activist, Navalny was recognized on 18 May 2012 as a Prisoner of Conscience by Amnesty International.[2] Hence, my first use of the verb “was.” Years later, he was again deemed a Prisoner of Conscience. Soon after Russian authorities arrested Navalny at the airport on 17 January 2021, Amnesty International declared Navalny to be a Prisoner of Conscience. Then he wasn’t. Amnesty International questioned his ethos as a Prisoner of Conscience; they had questioned his seeming xenophobic, ultra-nationalist statements from the 2000s. But his status as a Prisoner of Conscience was restored; hence, he was again one. Amnesty International returned to Navalny the distinction of being a Prisoner of Conscience.[3]
I’m drawing your attention, Reader, to the word “was” not only to express my indignation and disgust concerning Navalny’s suspicious death, likely murder, while imprisoned in the IK-3 “special regime” colony, known as “Polar Wolf”, in Kharp in the Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, thus emphasizing that Navalny no longer is alive to co-lead the world’s conscience and to guide his fellow Russians to a more democratic, less corrupt, and authoritarian-free Russia. By stressing the past tense of the infinitive, “to be,” I am repeating and revising the opening sequence of this blog thrice because I doubted, too, like Amnesty International, whether Alexei Navalny should have had his Prisoner of Conscience honorific revoked.
***
(Opening scene of Daniel Roher’s 2023 Oscar winning Best Documentary Feature, Navalny (2022))
NAVALNY: “Oh, come on, Daniel. No. No way.”
Hurt by Daniel Roher’s off-screen question: “Okay, so, Alexei, I want to talk about something that we sort of touched on this morning. And you might hate this, but I really want you to think about it. If you are killed, if this does happen, what message do you leave behind to the Russian people?” Navalny seems not to answer only Daniel Roher but seems to be talking directly to me. I am Daniel, too. Navalny and I, in a sense, are arguing together.
Hurt by my own unsparing accusation that Navalny’s moral and political recognition by Amnesty International is misleading and undeserving because of his early “discriminatory statements”—using Amnesty International’s own words—on Georgian “rodents,” the “cockroach” peoples of the Caucasus and former Near-eastern Soviet republics, and other revolting xenophobic and ultra-nationalist rhetoric, Navalny was stung by this Daniel, me, me, not just by Daniel Roher and his somewhat boorish and tactless request of Navalny to speak from the dead. This Daniel, me, me, thought the worst of Navalny—how could I not think the worst of Navalny after he participated in the 2006 “Russian March,” an annual parade of Russia’s numerous nationalist and ultra-nationalist organizations—and Navalny is talking to me from the grave. And his words: “Oh, come on, Daniel. No. No way” thunder in my ears. Why is Navalny displeased with me?
***
NAVALNY: “Oh, come on, Daniel. No. No way.”
Hearing my name, Daniel, being spoken by Alexei Navalny, and seeing his grimace of moral disappointment, of personal betrayal, I am confused. Was I wrong about him? Was I being manipulated by him? His multiple supporters, including many high-profile and well-respected scholars, commentators, and politicians, have defended him, arguing that his political and moral thinking had evolved, becoming even more democratic and inclusive. In his published conversations with Polish-Jewish Solidarity (the famous Polish trade union group that contributed greatly to the downfall of communism in Poland) activist and public intellectual, Adam Michnik, Opposing Forces (2015 in Russian, 2016 in English), Navalny writes:
Looking at the issue more broadly, my thinking is that we need to communicate with nationalists and conduct explanatory work with them. By no means all nationalists in Russia are driven by a clear-cut ideology. They just identify some general injustice or other, and respond to it by directing aggression against people of a different colour and/or eye shape. I believe it’s essential to explain to them that the problem of illegal migration is going to be solved not by violence against migrants but by other methods entirely—democratic methods. (63)
Adam Michnik. Adam Michnik! Navalny persuaded Adam Michnik that he isn’t the bloody racist calling for violence against Russia’s perceived immigrant, non-Russian migrants and other unwanted people in Russia. Michnik, too, was an imprisoned political prisoner; Michnik, too, had been (and still is) misunderstood and slandered by his political opponents and critics. Nonetheless, I don’t think Michnik ever called another group of people rodents and cockroaches or sympathized with anti-immigration supporters or produced and uploaded violent videos pretend-shooting a Chechen terrorist and pretend-being a dentist describing immigrants as dental cavities. Michnik accepted Navalny. Following Michnik’s lead, should I, too?
***
NAVALNY: “Oh, come on, Daniel. No. No way.”
I still hesitate, but Alexei Navalny is too important to eject from my political and moral thinking. Come on, Daniel; what is it that I am not getting about Navalny? Navalny has progressed from those early, immature, and stupid days of potentially racist ideology and actions. In varying ways, he has regretted making those statements about immigrants, Georgians, and others; however, some people who wish to continue admiring him hesitate, and question his political ethics. And they don’t necessarily forgive him. Some doubting Thomass can’t move beyond the fact, the reality that he would say such things. He hasn’t exactly said, “I’m sorry.” At the same time, he hasn’t deny making those “discriminatory statements” and videos; in fact, he intentionally has left those videos on his YouTube channel to demonstrate that he indeed made them; he chose not to edit or revise himself, as if to say this was me and I’m not this now:
Navalny the dentist video: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICoc2VmGdfw)
Navalny the cockroach and terrorist killer video: (https://www.youtu.be/oVNJiO10SWw)
By not deleting the videos or pretending that he didn’t march with ultra-nationalists or not glossing over his positions on migrants and immigrants, on Crimea, and other volatile and sensitive political matters, has Navalny demonstrated his stature as a man of conscience? I hear Navalny’s voice: “Oh, come on, Daniel;” however, this time, I also hear, “Daniel, are you still not sure?”
***
Like Doubting Thomas, I, too, need to stick my finger in Alexei Navalny’s wounds, finding out for myself if he is indeed a Man of Conscience, not just a Prisoner of Conscience. Two years after Amnesty International recognized Nelson Mandela as a Prisoner of Conscience, they did revoke Mandela’s title because he used and advocated violence against the South African regime. Amnesty International restored Navalny’s honorific, “Prisoner of Conscience.” What made Navalny’s case different from Mandela’s? When they re-designated Navalny’s identity as a Prisoner of Conscience, they wrote:
As a result of this episode, Amnesty has commenced a review of its overall approach to the use of the term ‘Prisoner of Conscience’. As an initial interim step, our approach has been refined to not exclude a person from designation as a Prisoner of Conscience solely based on their conduct in the past. We recognise that an individual’s opinions and behaviour may evolve over time. It is part of Amnesty’s mission to encourage people to positively embrace a human rights vision and to not suggest that they are forever trapped by their past conduct….
This means that by confirming Navalny’s status as Prisoner of Conscience, we are not endorsing his political programme, but are highlighting the urgent need for his rights, including access to independent medical care, to be recognised and acted upon by the Russian authorities.
Alexei Navalny has not been imprisoned for any recognizable crime, but for demanding the right to equal participation in public life for himself and his supporters, and for demanding a government that is free from corruption. These are acts of conscience and should be recognised as such.
In contrast, President Putin and the Russian government are restricting political freedom and acting in a brutal repression of anyone who seeks accountability and justice. It is they who are deliberately choosing to act without any trace of conscience.
Amnesty International made a wrong decision, which called our intentions and motives into question at a critical time, and apologises for the negative impacts this has had on Alexei Navalny personally, and the activists in Russia and around the world who tirelessly campaign for his freedom….[4]
Therefore, Navalny is and now was a Prisoner of Conscience; Amnesty International deems him to be one. Despite their convincing and careful reconsideration, I, too, must offer my own persuasive and thoughtful reappraisal of Alexei Navalny.
***
Originally, I had conceived of this blog on Alexei Navalny as a short one-of piece on him; I didn’t foresee my intellectual struggle to write this blog to be so profound and challenging. Indeed, Navalny is a formidable political figure, one whose opposition to Putin and dreams of making Russia a truly democratic nation-state is admirable but his positions on certain issues are knotty. I cannot simply cut the Gordian knot that might be Navalny by my perceived pretentious virtue signaling and be done with him. No, I cannot do that. Yes, Alexei, I hear your “Oh, come on, Daniel.” After all, Navalny died fighting evil, Putin’s evil; I can’t easily write him off. Because Navalny’s statements are originally in Russian, perhaps things do get lost in translation. For example, the same passage I earlier quoted from Opposing Forces:
“my thinking is that we need to communicate with nationalists and conduct explanatory work with them…”
Also has been translated as:
“my idea is that you have to communicate with nationalists and educate them…”
The key difference is “educate them.” This subtle but crucial difference in translation has convinced me that Navalny isn’t a hateful, or rather hate-filled, neo-Nazi or the other things he has been accused of being. “educate them” captures better what the other rendering, “conduct explanatory work” doesn’t.
Educate them, the ultra-nationalists, on what? Navalny has always defined himself as a coalition builder. He called to all Russians, not just the so-called ethnic Russians, to work together to defeat the real enemy of the Russian people: Vladimir Putin. The undeclared, so-called illegal immigrants aren’t the causes of the poverty of everyday Russians. The migrants aren’t stealing jobs from “real” Russians. By working from the inside of these nationalist groups, Navalny hoped to re-direct their focus from the migrants to the Kremlin, Putin himself. By “educate them,” I think Navalny meant to rehabilitate them; by rechanneling their political and economic resentments and powerlessness, Navalny hoped to mobilize all of Russia to vote, to protest, and to evict Putin from Russian political life. Navalny needed everyone’s help in this Herculean task. I think Navalny also would say “freedom ain’t cheap.” As Navalny says to the Russian people at the end of the Daniel Roher’s documentary, Navalny:
Listen, I’ve got something very obvious to tell you. You’re not allowed to give up. If they decide to kill me, it means that we are incredibly strong. We need to utilize this power to not give up, to remember we are a huge power that is being oppressed by these bad dudes [Putin and his conspirators]. We don’t realize how strong we actually are.
The hundreds of Navalny mourners who were arrested by Putin’s henchmen show that there is a powerful force within Navalny’s supporters: they are the democratic strength of Russia. The hundreds of thousands of Navalny’s mourners who had shown up for his funeral also signal Navalny’s death was not just a senseless martyrdom. The Russian people who had shown great courage by being out in the streets of Russian cities prove that Navalny wasn’t a xenophobic violence monger. He was a man of conscience that many Russians recognized.
Not just as a Prisoner of Conscience but also a man of principle, Navalny fought against political and electoral corruption. Navalny supported same-sex marriage. Navalny denounced Russia’s full invasion of Ukraine; for the moment, please don’t get stuck on his position on Russia’s takeover of Crimea. Navalny condemned Putin’s war crimes in Ukraine and Syria. Navalny rallied the Russian people by blogging about these political and moral outrages committed by Putin; he also produced videos he published on You Tube about the obscene, extravagant, and corrupt lifestyles of Vadimir Putin, Dmitry Medvedev, and Putin’s other cronies. Navalny’s documentary exposés laid bare the billions of rubles stolen from the Russian people to finance and build garish mansions, to purchase flashy yachts, to fund the homes and everyday living expenses for mistresses and bastard children, to bankroll personal vineyards and oyster farms… the list of gluttony, malice, and other vices of Putin collected by Navalny insult the Russian people, the very people from whom Putin stole.
***
What keeps Alexei Navalny in my sanctuary of people with character is the last two lines of Daniel Roher’s Navalny (2022):
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good people to do nothing. So don’t be inactive.
Of course, the first line is well known. There are many variations of the insight into evil flourishing in the face of well-intentioned but frightened and passive people. I will not say “bystanders” because the word is too heavy-handed and contemptuous. I can’t ignore the real fear of everyday people facing great, powerful evil who are too frightened to act against such dark and sinister tyranny as Putin’s.
What keeps Alexei Navalny in my hall of heroes is his return to Moscow, after nearly dying from a failed murder plot (having been poisoned with Novichok agent) on a Russian plane, in essence to face Putin’s death sentence. Navalny had no doubts, second guesses concerning his flight to Moscow. He knew what to expect. He illustrated what courage is. He showed what a real, genuine leader is. How could he expect the Russian people to be resolute and principled while fighting Putin’s various crimes against them, but lead from behind, from many miles away from the danger? Some Westerners who claim to admire him but fail to understand his reasons for returning to Moscow fail themselves understanding what leadership is. Navalny couldn’t be their potential future President by directing a new Russian revolution standing behind the German state security details protecting him. The optics of that scenario are bad. Doing so may have worked for Vladimir Lenin, but Navalny’s moral and political stature depended upon Navalny actually, not symbolically, being in Moscow. Having a social media team uploading blogs and videos on Navalny’s behalf is one thing; having his political surrogates issuing marching orders in the name of Navalny would never sit right. A man of conscience couldn’t, wouldn’t, dare stoop so low. Even while a prisoner of conscience in the god-awful Siberian, gulag-like jails, Navalny protested via video conferences during his hearings. He continued to write; yes, his lieutenants uploaded his Twitter/X messages and managed to pass on letters, but he led through direct action.
Even if he had chosen to remain in Berlin doing so did not offer him safety from Putin’s vengeance. Russian dissidents don’t find long lasting peace from the Kremlin exiled in Europe. For example, London’s approximately 1,500 miles from Moscow didn’t protect former FSB officer and political exile Alexander Litvinenko (1962-2006) from being poisoned with Polonium-210 under the alleged order of Putin. London’s many miles also didn’t shield another former FSB officer and double agent Sergei Skripal (1951-2018) and his daughter, Yulia, from dying from Novichok poisoning. The suspicious death—made to look like a suicide—of Boris Berezovsky (1946-2013), an influential Russian oligarch who “prepared” Putin for political office, believing incorrectly he could manage Putin behind the scenes, but later became a critic of Putin—occurred in the locked bathroom of his former wife’s mansion in Berkshire, England. And there’s Georgi Markov (1929-1978), the Bulgarian dissident who died from a ricin tipped umbrella, who was waiting for a bus on Waterloo Bridge in London, England and later died. Russian dissidents don’t thrive in London; Navalny wouldn’t have either.
What keeps Alexei Navalny in my esteem is his timely release of his 19 January 2021 documentary, Putin’s Palace. History of World’s Largest Bribe (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ipAnwilMncI), which traces and documents the construction of a $1.35 billion mega-mansion that exceeds the sizes of Saint Petersburg’s Summer Palace and Paris’ Versailles. Moreover, the countless millions extra to remove the mold that had infested the building, and the thousand-dollar toilet brush, the costs to build, rebuild, maintain, and God knows what else are almost unbelievable; and yet, it is believable: Putin’s grotesque, out-of-control behavior places him into a new category of authoritarian evil. Putin’s Palace exposes the mind-boggling corruption and scheming—read as stealing funds from the Russian government and people—that Putin illegally, allegedly, utilized to build this monstrosity of a living space located on the shore of the Black Sea, near the town of Gelendzhik. Gelendzhik is approximately a five-hour drive to Sochi, the site of the 2014 Winter Olympics. A Putinesque coincidence? Three years after its release, Putin’s Palace has had over 131 million views. Of course, Putin himself has denied owning this property.
What keeps Alexei Navalny in my high regard is both his physical and moral tenacity. Putin’s own Gulag Archipelago hadn’t broken him. His spirit continued to fight. How he managed to withstand the isolation cell, endure the subzero cold, tolerate the mistreatment—likely torture—just to survive as long as he did is testament to his hope. He was strong. Too many of us look to action/super-hero movies to find remarkable people of courage. The sad reality is that most heroes fail; however, Navalny didn’t fail. He succeeded. It is some of us who have failed recognizing his position as a man of conscience. He will continue to inspire. He has shown his fellow Russians what is possible to do. Having hope is a scary prospect. We flatter ourselves believing we are hopeful and insisting that events will end up peacefully or well. Few of us actually believe that our hope will turn into reality because to ensure that hope becomes more than just wishful thinking, we need to do the hard work. And Navalny did the hard work. Yes, he paid a terribly expensive price for being optimistic. Does his unbroken spirit seem foolish and irresponsible?
What keeps Alexei Navalny in my best regards is his seeming recklessness had the touch of a Shakespearean Puck. His satire, biting commentary, mischievous grin and eyes… his very demeanor in his blogs and videos illustrate a will, drive to live and to fight for a better Russia. He wasn’t afraid to offend. What should have been a somber and professional documentary, Navalny’s Putin’s Palace at times is funny because Navalny’s commentary is at times flippant; I would even add that Navalny can come off as a wise-ass. And I think this personality trait had endeared him to so many Russians. Navalny had youthful, boyish good looks, and his appearance certainly must have provoked Putin, too. Kremlin backed Russian political television show hosts tried to defame Navalny by claiming that he only appealed to children. At first, this denunciation seems outrageously incomprehensible; however, it does make some sense because Navalny utilized social media effectively. He had a You Tube channel. He blogged. He made Tik Tok videos. According to these Russian television collaborators, these above-mentioned activities are supposedly only used by children, not by adults and certainly not politicians. Those Kremlin television propagandists failed to understand that not only do children grow up and become potential voters, but they also become informed—politically aware. Moreover, by being Internet savvy, Navalny was reaching out to all Russians; again, here is an excellent example of Navalny the coalition builder, reaching out and working with everyone he could reach.
***
(Opening scene of Daniel Roher’s 2023 Oscar winning Best Documentary Feature, Navalny (2022))
NAVALNY: “Oh, come on, Daniel. No. No way.”
In the documentary, Daniel Roher doesn’t respond to Navalny’s look of ‘how could you ask me such a question’ (if you’re killed, what do you want to say to your supporters); indeed, what would Daniel Roher say as a reply to Navalny? He alone must wrestle with his faux pas, certainly after 16 February 2024, the day Navalny died.
The other Daniel, me, can and should reply to Navalny’s apparent disappointment over being thought of less than a man of conscience by me. And this Daniel, I hope, has at least clarified, if not established, my opinion of and respect for Alexei Navalny. I do respect the man, this man (and prisoner) of conscience.
[1] Amnesty International. 7 May 2021. Statement on Alexei Navalny’s status as Prisoner of Conscience. https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/news/2021/05/statement-on-alexei-navalnys-status-as-prisoner-of-conscience-2/#:~:text=In%20February%2C%20Amnesty%20took%20an%20internal%20decision%20to%20stop%20using%20the%20%E2%80%9CPrisoner%20of%20Conscience%E2%80%9D%20term%20for%20Navalny%2C%20due%20to%20concerns%20relating%20to%20discriminatory%20statements%20he%20made%20in%202007%20and%202008%20which%20may%20have%20constituted%20advocacy%20of%20hatred.
[2] Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty. 18 May 2012. Amnesty Calls Navalny, Udaltsov ‘Prisoners Of Conscience.’ https://www.rferl.org/a/amnesty-navalny-udaltsov-prisoners-of-conscience/24584838.html
[3] Amnesty International. 7 May 2021. Statement on Alexei Navalny’s status as Prisoner of Conscience. https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/press-release/2021/05/statement-on-alexei-navalnys-status-as-prisoner-of-conscience/
[4] For the complete and official statement on the restoration of Alexei Navalny’s Prisoner of Conscience designation, please read it at: https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/press-release/2021/05/statement-on-alexei-navalnys-status-as-prisoner-of-conscience/