"Your senses become dulled, even your sense of danger"

A few weeks ago, the terms of Alexei Navalny’s house arrest were eased. The politician can now speak to the press. In an interview with Meduza, the founder of the Anti-Corruption Foundation (ACF) spoke about how he works in isolation. Navalny says the refusal of establishment politicians to respond to anti-corruption investigations only spurs him on. He is trying to collect 100,000 votes on the Russian Public Initiative website (ROI) in order to force the State Duma to ratify Article 20 of the UN Convention against Corruption, which would make illicit enrichment a criminal offense in Russia. For Navalny, the ongoing Yves Rocher case is an annoying necessity. He no longer feels the same emotions he did during the Kirovles trial. He does not even consider himself the leader when it comes to “the most absurd politically motivated charges.” — The unavoidable question: under the terms of your house arrest, what are you allowed to do and what are you not allowed to do? Are we speaking legally right now? — Completely legally. In February [2014], I was banned from communicating with anyone at all. After our complaint to the European Court of Human Rights, the terms of my arrest were changed—I am now prohibited from communicating only with witnesses in the Yves Rocher case. Knowing how much surveillance equipment I have in the house, I complied with all the conditions and didn’t invite anyone over. Now it’s allowed, but before that even the guys from the Anti-Corruption Foundation would come by, leave papers on the landing, ring the bell, and run away. — Are you still not allowed to comment on the case materials? — There is a ban on commenting on the case materials in the media. I don’t give a damn about it; I will violate it on principle and consistently. That matters—I don’t want to be jailed for nothing and then stay silent on top of it all (on October 10, the court extended Navalny’s house arrest until January 14, 2015, under the same conditions, except for the ban on speaking to the media — Meduza’s note). — In that case, explain one of the key points. Did [your brother] Oleg Navalny run the Main Subscription Agency on his own, or did you do it together? Did both of you receive profits, or only him? — I came up with the company in the first place. I had the idea; the company’s name itself reflects it. We even managed to make a website for the Main Subscription Agency. The business idea was this: instead of people going to the post office and wasting a lot of time there to subscribe to newspapers and magazines, we wanted to let them do it online. A few months later, for various reasons, it became clear the idea wasn’t going to work, so we dropped it, but the legal entity remained. Oleg needed it for his own business, so he took it over and used it himself. Naturally, I knew what was going on, but no more than that. In fact, no one made any profit at all. Oleg wanted to buy one of the premises of the Kobyakov Factory from our parents in order to expand that business. Everything he earned, he spent on renovating the premises as part of the future purchase. There was no real profit to speak of. You can see that from the documents. They accuse me of cashing out money through the Kobyakov Factory under a legal services contract, but that is complete nonsense. — And how does the trial feel? — In the Kirovles case, there was at least one person who gave false testimony against me—[former director of the state-owned company Kirovles, Vyacheslav] Opalev. Here, by contrast, even the company representative who was forced to file a complaint against us comes to court and says: we ourselves found no damage; all the damage was “found” for us by the investigators. What more is there to say? On the other hand, no one is surprised by surrealism in court anymore. I can’t even take pride in having the most absurd trials anymore—not in a situation where filmmaker [Oleg] Sentsov is beaten during detention, and then they say there was a whip in his house and that his wife beat him. When you read things like that, you realize my cases stopped being examples of the most absurd accusations a long time ago. Against the backdrop of everything happening, it doesn’t even strike people that much anymore. — Now, after seven months of house arrest, can you say whether this is an effective way of removing someone from active public life? House arrest, for example, basically wiped out the political career of Sergei Udaltsov [coordinator of Left Front, one of the leaders of the 2011–2012 protest movement]. — You should probably be asked that; from the outside, you can see it better. — From the outside, it looks like you now exist only in court, on your blog, and on Twitter. And everyone knows that on social media it’s not really you personally, but your wife Yulia and ACF staff. Yet you were a candidate for mayor of Moscow and “politician of the year” in rankings by prestigious media outlets. — My life has definitely been made more difficult. Communication has become harder, more expensive, and more complicated—that’s true. But from the very beginning I said that even if I were jailed, it would affect only the speed of interaction. Blog posts would still appear, comments would still be published. After all, there is ACF, there is RosPil, and not only them. Even in total isolation, I would not simply disappear. — Your main project right now is collecting 100,000 votes on the Russian Public Initiative website so that the State Duma will ratify Article 20 of the UN Convention against Corruption. Criminal prosecution for illicit enrichment. Why this, given that it’s not a new issue? Why this, and why now? — The main project is the campaign for ratification of Article 20 of the UN Convention against Corruption, and the vote on ROI is its first step. Fighting corruption is not a new story in itself. In fact, there are very few new stories in Russian politics at all. Novorossiya is perhaps the only new one—it would have been hard to imagine something like that a year ago. Everyone has long understood what needs to be done to fight corruption. What matters for us now is some kind of collective action. We need people to join us and contribute. Conducting investigations, finding officials’ real estate abroad, drafting bills—that is specialized, professional work. We have been doing that for a long time, and successfully. Now we need to give everyone the chance to be part of the section of society that demands the creation of a state system that fights corruption. People are constantly asking me about a vision of the future. They say: fine, it’s clear they’re all thieves, but what are you proposing? This is what we propose; this is our answer. We believe—and this is based on international experience—that for a country like Russia, criminal liability for illicit enrichment is a key issue. However much we might want to, we cannot prove that these specific people took bribes, or that this official’s wealth is based on kickbacks. But we should not be wasting our energy on that; we should catch them through their actual consumption. If you earned 1 million rubles a year in public service but live like someone with 100 million, that in itself should be a crime. That is normal; it is accepted in many countries. It is a fairly obvious idea, but we decided it needed to be talked about much more loudly and forcefully. We conducted a sociological survey that showed 87% of people strongly support the idea. This is our Crimea, so to speak. And we say responsibly: the Russian people want this norm. That is why we decided to launch a major campaign. No one has really done anything larger that would involve not only the core circles on Facebook and Twitter. We need something in which one or two million citizens will take part, and another 30 million will know about it and support us. We want to force it onto the agenda. There is another nuance. We are not allowed to participate in elections. Under these conditions, we are constantly forced to answer questions like: do you support Ivanov or Petrov, who were allowed to run and are participating in these elections? We need a point of unity that will work for leftists and liberals, for right-wingers and nationalists. Candidates may be for Crimea or against it. If we make Crimea the basis of the “us versus them” system, we will only deepen the existing split. I believe the foundation should be the idea of fighting corruption, and specifically fighting illicit enrichment. If you support that, we are ready to call on people to vote for you. If not—sorry, you may be a liberal a hundred times over and condemn Putin, but you are not with us. — So how the idea is implemented—through the 100,000 votes being collected, or through the Communists in the State Duma—is not all that important? — We know the Communists are fully in favor. As far as we have tracked it, all factions supported the idea of ratification except United Russia. Although in private conversations, some of its representatives were not opposed either. Even [Constitutional Court chairman] Valery Zorkin, our well-known expert on serfdom, has spoken in support of ratifying Article 20 of the UN Convention. We want to force the authorities to do something about all this. — Are you satisfied with the pace of collecting votes? — Of course I would like everything to move faster. Right now, disappointment in any kind of activism is taking its toll, including activism on ROI. We patiently explain to people that ROI is only the first step. It’s not as if you collect 100,000 votes and bang—the law is passed immediately. If that were the case, we would have surrounded Putin from all sides with our wonderful laws long ago. We understand that we may collect the votes on ROI, and they will reject it and bury everything in empty discussion. So for us, the vote is the first step, a way to mobilize the core of our supporters and a reason to continue the conversation. If we collect 100,000 signatures, then they will be obliged to enter into dialogue. We have fairly tight deadlines—we have until New Year’s to collect the signatures. I think we will do it, unless of course they start cheating. I would like everything to move faster, for the enthusiasm of the Bolotnaya rallies (the mass anti-government protests of 2011–2012 in Moscow) or my mayoral campaign to return. But what is the point of dreaming about what does not exist? We will rely on the most stubborn and conscious people, the ones who know there are no simple solutions. — Your previous initiative, on introducing visas for residents of Central Asian countries, never reached the required 100,000 votes. — That was entirely my organizational fault. If you don’t keep hammering away at it every day, nothing will happen on its own. That initiative got 50,000 votes in the first month, after which I dropped it and didn’t work on it for several months. Then I resumed it, and in two months we collected another 20,000 votes, but we no longer had time to reach the necessary 100,000. I still believe the idea is correct, and that it is supported by the public. People asked me about it at every meeting with voters—literally every one. It is commonly assumed that people with liberal views voted for me. And even among them, the idea was quite popular. I am not abandoning it, but I do acknowledge the organizational failure. — Do you still, in one way or another, lead the Anti-Corruption Foundation? — I am not involved in day-to-day management. It is more about formulating strategy and setting directions for the work. Otherwise, the staff work autonomously and understand very well what needs to be done, and they do it without me. But on questions of overall strategy, they consult me. Right now, for example, after the easing of the house arrest conditions, we discuss the Article 20 campaign once a week. — I have heard from all sorts of people that after your freedom was restricted, the foundation fell into disarray. I heard that [former executive director of the Anti-Corruption Foundation] Ashurkov had practically stepped back from affairs two months before leaving the country. Is that really true? — That happens in any organization. If your editor-in-chief were placed under house arrest, would it be easier or harder for you to work? Probably harder. There would be some period of confusion and drift, and then everyone would pull themselves together and figure out what to do next. It is the same here. Of course it would be easier for them with me around. I am the foundation’s main public face; I have a certain authority. Many people came to work specifically for Navalny. We immediately started fighting the idea that I, as an ACF employee, would answer to Navalny and no one else. That is absolutely wrong; it destroys the team. And of course the pressure takes its toll. Of the seven members of the Progress Party political council, four are facing criminal cases. [Progress Party functionary and ACF staff member Nikolai] Lyaskin and [Georgy] Alburov are under travel restrictions, and Ashurkov is in forced exile. We are now organizing a “daching” event—even our own people cannot go to the nearest Moscow suburbs because of those restrictions. So we are inviting outside allies to run the daching for us. But there is no real disarray—just work issues, and they are being resolved. — I was actually going to list those same people in connection with another question. Alburov and Lyaskin are under restrictions, Ashurkov is in exile, [municipal deputy for Moscow’s Zyuzino district] Konstantin Yankauskas is under house arrest. Do you ever feel like Khodorkovsky in 2003, when a whole circle of people simply connected to him ended up bearing criminal responsibility along with him? — I do feel that responsibility; it is a constant subject of my thoughts and worries. All these numerous criminal cases are really one big criminal case against me, and it extends to people who are guilty of nothing except being connected to me. Yes, that is true. But the parallels with Khodorkovsky end there. They had a commercial company where people earned a lot of money and became successful managers. With us, everyone who comes in is asked: do you understand where you are going? Do you understand that your email will be hacked and published? That all your social media accounts will be hacked? That criminal cases are possible? But people come to engage in political struggle, and they are prepared for those costs. They understand the consequences. Everyone really thinks: well, if I am not doing anything illegal, what kind of criminal case could there possibly be against me, where would it come from? Yankauskas thought that too. He is not even a member of the Progress Party and is not part of ACF. He was simply told: Kostya, help with the election campaign. Kostya helped, and now he is sitting under arrest. Even so, our people are probably more prepared for persecution than corporate employees are. At the same time, it is worth noting that there were very few traitors among Khodorkovsky’s employees, and people served their sentences with dignity, even though they had never imagined themselves involved in politics. — You managed to “fire” Vladimir Pekhtin from the State Duma over an undeclared apartment in the United States; I suspect that was a big celebration in your office. But then this happened. You say that Igor Lebedev of the LDPR has an undeclared apartment in Dubai, and he replies that he is not going to comment on the words of “some criminal.” The same story with Senator Andrei Klishas. Valentin Gorbunov, head of the Moscow City Election Commission, did not go anywhere after the foundation found he had a Croatian company. Your latest investigation concerns Swiss real estate owned by Grigory Golukhov, head of Moscow’s health department. He was even planning to remain in public service while holding a Swiss residence permit. It seems like you are doing all the same things. The jokes in the posts are still as sharp as ever. But the result is fundamentally different. — In my earliest investigations—into VTB, Transneft, Gazprom—did anyone get jailed? No. I know that better than anyone. All my work is accompanied by comments like: show me at least one person who was imprisoned for corruption. There is no such person. Senator Malkin and deputy Pekhtin lost their posts—and even they did it out of fear. It is very unpleasant, it is infuriating. When Golukhov said he was leaving, we frantically gathered and published all the information we had long been collecting, so it would not go to waste. A farewell gift for him. And then it turned out he was demonstratively not leaving after all (the day after this interview, Golukhov’s resignation was in fact accepted — Meduza’s note). He has a residence permit, an apartment worth 200 million rubles, with an income of 20 million, and he still wants to continue working as head of the health department. It is deeply infuriating, but it is motivating too. You understand just how right you are in trying to break this system. At moments like that I tell myself: that’s right, Alexei, you are doing everything correctly—just look at these mugs and what they say back to you. Now Lebedev is shouting that we need to fight corruption, but we know you have an apartment in Dubai with seven toilets. And we understand what we are fighting for. I am not disappointed that 100,000 votes do not turn into laws, and I am not disappointed that we find apartments owned by officials and they do not resign. Putin is not going to send himself into retirement, much less jail himself. We are creating a problem for them; we are explaining things to people. Let Moscow know that while you are sitting in line at the clinic, this is the kind of person in charge above those clinics. Maybe that demotivates some people—I allow for that. People are different. I am not one of those who think struggle is meaningless without a guarantee of success. — You are creating the Progress Party. But what will you get out of it? The core will consist of wonderful people, and 90% of them will be in Moscow. Five or six bright figures in the regions. And the rest will be the people whom the system in the regional capitals has reduced to the status of local cranks, people who have already passed through half the democratic parties. So what is the point? — You are describing the Yabloko party as it is now. — I do not see any other option. — I do. I spent a long time in Yabloko, followed other parties, and I understand how this works. We are trying to do everything differently. We have a clear agenda and program, and with it we can win elections. Even in Crimea, if we do not win, we would still get our 20% on the anti-corruption issue. No one believed that in the Moscow mayoral election I could get a double-digit share of the vote. No money, no television, and Putin saying the day before the vote that I steal distilleries. But I still got 30%. And the point is not me; the point is that people want what we are offering in our program. There are major problems in the regions. People are under pressure, and the opposition there very often becomes marginalized. The ones who endure are the most steadfast and stubborn. The unbreakable ones; it is hard for everyone else to withstand that kind of pressure. We are creating a party for all normal people. People who support a European path of development, oppose corruption, and want a normal judicial system. We will hold primaries, and the most достойные candidates will go to the elections. In regions where our positions are weak, we will yield to good people who share our values but belong to another party. This is not a fast process. But there are capable people who would be ready to run under our party banner. Right now they have nowhere to go. Yabloko will take you only if you get down on one knee, kiss their party flag, and sign a memorandum condemning me and nationalism. Everyone has already left Civic Platform. Father and son Gudkov left the Greens. We want a party that will become an umbrella for normal people. Right now no normal person would climb into the current party system. Is a sensible person from the regions really going to travel to Moscow to kneel before some party boss so they will allow you to get somewhere? No such people exist. But there are 30% of citizens who understand that we need a European path. They do not like the current trashy frenzy and the provincial nonsense being spouted on television. Even people with conservative views do not like it when an official buys an apartment in Switzerland, and they will vote for us. Putin, Volodin, and the rest are of course not fools. They understand that if they let us into elections, we will win them. So either they will not let us in at all, or they will not let us in where we are ready to perform successfully. The process will not be easy, but we are ready for it because we are confident in the eventual victory of our ideas. — What is your attitude toward Khodorkovsky and, for example, his desire to become a crisis president if he is asked? — I have a very positive attitude toward Khodorkovsky. The basic theme for political consensus is still the same: Russia’s European path of development. Not recreating the Golden Horde (the medieval Mongol state that once ruled much of Rus'), or some other “third way,” or near-union with China, and other such nonsense. That means we are allies. He says he is ready to cooperate only with those who support that. Excellent. We probably have different views on other things. But the number of issues on which we differ is shrinking rapidly. Khodorkovsky even supports a compensatory tax—a revision of the results of privatization. I support that too, even though economists, including prominent ones and some who help me, attack me for it. On this issue, Khodorkovsky is more radical than I am. Probably, if he had not been imprisoned, I would have been one of those endlessly suing him over minority shareholder rights; they were violated very badly at Yukos. But that was ten years ago. There is no Yukos anymore, and no minority shareholders either. What Khodorkovsky is saying now suits us. He is an ally. — An ally, specifically—not a competitor? — For some reason this idea comes up often. Khodorkovsky got out, and now he and Navalny are going to clash over who is in charge here. But there is nothing to clash over yet. Under current legislation, both he and I are barred from running for office. Before the moment when we might clash, there will have to be a huge struggle just to win the right to have that clash at all. The right to participate in elections. And then… it is all rather funny—one man under house arrest, the other in exile, and they are supposedly sitting there figuring out which of them will become president. Politicians always compete; that is normal and in society’s interests. When it comes to that, I am sure all normal political leaders will agree to primaries. That is the only way to determine who should become the candidate. Whoever wins will run, and the others will support them. I am ready for that kind of election. — Have you or your representatives spoken with him since his release? — Yes. He is quite accessible; he is not some untouchable figure. Vladimir Ashurkov has spoken with him. Leonid Volkov is in touch with him from time to time. We are very interested in seeing his projects succeed. Because if he fails, it will not just be his failure, but a shared one. That is my position toward everyone. I want Yabloko or Civic Platform to do well. If they do well, I become stronger too. Khodorkovsky spent ten years in isolation. Whatever knowledge we can share with him about that decade, we do. He is interested in what we are doing—especially sociology. He is launching internet projects, and we know a thing or two about the internet. So yes, there is contact, we talk. — Still, back to the trial. Was the Kirovles case harder, or this one? — All my feelings have dulled a lot. You cannot go through something like that a second time with the same intensity. During Kirovles, crowds of people came, everyone was outraged; now everyone just laughs. It has become much easier to prove that we had nothing to do with this at all. In the Kirovles case, I spent so much time explaining to everyone I could what had really happened. Here, it is so obvious to everyone that people hardly even listen to me. Yes, feelings dull over time—even the sense of danger.