"The tram is an entirely political issue"

— You’re holding a rally-concert on Sakharov Avenue today. It will be your last campaign event before the “day of silence” (the legally mandated ban on campaigning immediately before voting). Tell us a little about it. — We wanted to put on some kind of big, positive, inspiring event—for ourselves, for the people working at headquarters, for the volunteers. For the authorities, the climax of a campaign is getting even more TV exposure. We don’t have those means of communication, so we need an event that will bring a lot of people together in Moscow, where they can meet, talk, and see like-minded people. That’s how the idea of a concert came up. Then, unexpectedly for us, many musicians agreed to take part. Lyapis (the Belarusian rock band Lyapis Trubetskoy. — Gazeta.Ru) agreed to perform completely free of charge; they even posted a very nice, heartfelt statement on their website—that means a lot to us. A few other performances fell through simply because of scheduling and commercial exclusivity terms. But everyone who is performing is doing it for free, in support of us—and we’re very grateful. We had applied to hold it at Sparrow Hills, but City Hall decided to be difficult, and we thought there was no point in locking horns with them for three weeks this time. So we agreed to Sakharov Avenue. — Let’s go back to how this campaign began. Sergei Sobyanin said he wanted to hold an early election. He hasn’t exactly hidden the fact that he intends to be re-elected. What role were you assigned in this performance, and are you happy to play it? — At the initial stage, I had no role at all. They chose a moment when there was effectively no Navalny: he had the Kirovles case hanging over him, and besides, he was a virtual figure because he supposedly couldn’t collect the signatures of municipal deputies. They pushed Prokhorov out over his foreign real estate (billionaire Mikhail Prokhorov withdrew from the race, saying he would not have time within the allotted period to restructure his foreign assets. — Gazeta.Ru). They picked comfortable opponents for themselves and went into the election expecting to get their 70% in a calm, orderly way on low turnout, and then declare that United Russia had regained the public’s trust. We broke that script. We changed public opinion in such a way that Sobyanin, who was looking for legitimacy, realized they would get no legitimacy at all if they didn’t let me into the election. I wasn’t in their play—we simply walked onto the stage and said: “We’ll perform too.” — When you were released after the Kirovles case, you said, literally: “I’m not some tame kitten or puppy that they first threw out of the election and then said: let him take part.” Don’t you think that’s exactly what ended up happening? — No. On the 4th, 5th, 6th, and probably the 26th—I don’t remember exactly when signature collection ended—they did not want me in the election. Members of their own campaign told me how they laughed when I announced I was running for mayor of Moscow, because for me the municipal filter was supposedly impossible to get through. They thought I wouldn’t raise any money and that I wouldn’t be able to run any real campaign beyond three posts on the internet. We forced them to change that script. We were the first to start campaigning. We were setting up campaign cubes and handing out leaflets even while we were still collecting signatures from municipal deputies. From the very beginning we said we would build a huge headquarters staffed by thousands of volunteers, and that if I wasn’t registered, that headquarters would run a boycott campaign. And we would have done it. They realized the costs would be completely different. I don’t know whether they regret letting me into the election now or not. But judging by their panicked actions, they are definitely worried about it. — What do you mean by panicked actions, for example? — All these sculptures supposedly “desecrated by Navalny volunteers,” Putin’s interview—they’ve deployed their main weapons... an item in Izvestia: they’re spreading rumors that we’re going to organize some kind of unrest. — To be fair, people do expect that from you... — They don’t just expect it—they’re spinning fairy tales about unrest being prepared at our headquarters. They publish planted articles about people supposedly preparing riots. They released some video from a bathhouse: someone sitting in a sauna allegedly discussing plans for mass unrest. First Levichev was doing the dirty work against me, now they’re using Mitrokhin for that role. The entire media machine is aimed at our headquarters because, from their point of view, we are a threat. — This week, social media widely circulated a recording of writer Boris Akunin’s speech (in Russia, he has been designated a “foreign agent” and added to the list of terrorists and extremists), in which he said that whether repression continues, how the Bolotnaya case ends, whether the Pussy Riot women are released—all of that depends on how many votes Navalny gets. Those were his examples. Throughout this campaign I’ve had the feeling that neither you, nor your voters, nor journalists really understand who is actually being elected on September 8. Sobyanin and the other candidates are running mayoral campaigns, but your campaign gives the impression that you’re running for both mayor and president at once... — Akunin is right. This is a campaign for mayor, but fundamentally it is a campaign about how much political space all of us can occupy. That is exactly what this campaign is about. Right now, there is only one Putin in the political space. There are also some satellites who feed off him. But then some people appeared and said: “We are going to do politics, including elections, without television, without Kremlin money, relying on volunteers. And we can do it.” In Moscow, there are hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions, of people who share our views and convictions. The question now is how many of them we can mobilize. People need to come to the polling stations and draw new red lines for the authorities. The result will be a new configuration in which it becomes clear what can be done and what cannot; who can be jailed and who cannot; what percentage can be stolen from road construction—100%, as is now the case with the Moscow metro or any interchange, or less? That is what this campaign is about. It’s a mayoral campaign, but it could just as well be a presidential one or any other kind. This is all about people finally realizing: “We want new rules. How much longer can this go on?” I had dinner with businessmen—an astonishing thing. A year ago, meetings like that could only happen underground, because everyone was afraid. But now people from Sberbank were standing up and saying, without fear of cameras: “I work at Sberbank, and in the evening I stand at Navalny’s campaign cubes and hand out leaflets.” Investment bankers came up and said: “We stand at the cubes too.” That matters. Take the story with the monuments. Vysotsky’s family said they were outraged. We called Nikita Vysotsky, and he said: “I’m on my way to a cube now. I’m helping assemble it.” I don’t even know him personally; it’s just that circumstances have given hundreds of thousands of people a reason to mobilize, come out, and set new rules of the game. If that happens, everyone will understand: “There it is—the opposition.” Not fake, not phony—real people united by an idea and engaged in direct political activity. Completely independent. And there’s nothing they can do with them. You can’t dissolve them like Civic Platform, or tell me, as they told Prokhorov, “Slow down and disappear for a year.” This campaign is about how we define our own place in politics. — But do your voters understand that this is what it’s about, and not modern trams? — The core supporters do. But it’s not such a simple thing... This is the main issue in this campaign right now: a lot depends on whether I can explain it or not. I’m trying to explain that yes, we talk about roads and housing and utilities, but it’s not only about that. It’s also about this: “You criticized us for not having a constructive program.” And we say: “We do have something to offer. We know what needs to be done. We have a clear team. We are ready to occupy this political space.” — At the same time, you are still running a strictly urban campaign. And when you see anti-corruption campaigner Alexei Navalny talking about a “modern articulated two-section tram” — that’s a quote — it creates a sense of obvious mismatch between the original image and this message. How comfortable are you in that role yourself? — Very comfortable. I don’t separate those things. A modern articulated two-section tram is an entirely political issue. — Come again? — Entirely political. They say: “Transport. We’re going to spend a lot of money on transport.” In practice, 48 billion rubles stays with the transport department, while 400 billion rubles goes to the construction department—and all of that gets poured into giant construction projects where everything is stolen. My core political rhetoric is built around fighting corruption. That is the most important political issue. When we talk about trams, about the share of funding for public transport, about not pouring huge sums into grandiose projects but instead expanding the capillary network and connectivity of neighborhoods—all of these are political issues, and they are interconnected. Muscovites’ current incomes are quite high; they are at a European level. The city budget is enormous. But we are not getting the quality of life that those incomes should produce. Our quality of life is miserable. And that is a political issue. And what was I doing when I was fighting Gazprom? When I was fighting Mezhregiongaz over gas being resold through shady schemes? All this corruption, all these construction projects, housing and utilities? Fundamentally, I have always dealt with practical governance issues. I just never pretended otherwise. And I always said that these practical issues can be changed by applying key political decisions. — How possible is it to change the system as a whole when you are “only” a mayor? After all, the office’s powers are fairly limited. — But this isn’t just any mayor. This is a very special mayor. The mayor of a city where 15% of the country’s population lives. The mayor of a city with a colossal budget. The mayor of a city where all major political decisions are made. If Moscow gets a new mayor, and one chosen by the will of its residents, then Putin—as a rational person—understands that everything has changed: political reality has changed. — All right. Let’s imagine this wild scenario: you win the election... — Why “wild”? Quite likely. — All right, let’s say this fairly likely scenario comes true and you become mayor of Moscow. As head of the region, you would have to meet with Vladimir Putin. How do you even imagine that after calling him “the chief crook and thief” and making insulting personal remarks about him? — Listen, huge numbers of politicians say terrible things about one another publicly or privately, behind each other’s backs or not. And then they all come together and sort things out. That’s politics. It works that way in parliament too: during elections you tear them all apart, and then later you sit on the same committee drafting legislation. That’s normal. I’m not going to take back anything I said, but Muscovites want me to do my job, to interact with the federal authorities—and I will interact with them without violating my principles or my approach. That is entirely possible. People do not become politicians at Putin’s level if they don’t understand these elementary things. — So you’re counting on Putin’s understanding? — No, I’m not counting on Putin’s understanding. I’m sure Putin will understand that if millions of Muscovites chose this mayor, then a new political reality has arrived, and he has to reckon with it. Listen, they all hate each other! The degree to which I dislike Putin, or Putin dislikes me, is probably nothing compared with how much they all hate one another in that Kremlin jar of disgusting bedbugs and spiders. And yet somehow they all sit together just fine afterward at the United Russia congress. We will build a new political space. A new one. — You say this is normal, that this is politics and everyone always does it. But don’t you think that during this campaign you have rather successfully transformed into a politician? There used to be this cheerful lawyer and public activist, Alexei Navalny, who was on trial in the Kirovles case. Now there is a calculating politician, a pragmatist. Many people criticize you for that—for obvious political maneuvering. — For example? — Well, take the story with Putin’s consent for Sobyanin to take part in the mayoral election. Andrei Buzin, your representative on the Moscow City Election Commission, wrote on Facebook two weeks before the scandal that he had seen that piece of paper with Putin’s consent and signature. So why did you start all this fuss out of nowhere? — Buzin himself insisted that we should go to court. These are all very important procedural issues. They invented the municipal filter and have been playing this farce with it for years. They’ve used it to block lots of people. They staged the same little performance with me: first they blocked me, then they let me through. And meanwhile they themselves demonstratively fail to follow even their own elementary rules. What is this supposed to be—a visa on a scrap of paper saying “I support it”?! We showed voters that they despise even the procedures they themselves invented. — And what about, for example, your response to the public appeal by Moskovsky Komsomolets journalist Aider Muzhdabaev (designated in Russia as a “foreign agent”)? — What did I say to him? — Your reply was simply rude. — So is he accusing me of being too much of a politician, or of being rude like some blogger? — You’re being rude in the capacity of a politician. — Every six months someone comes to me and says: “You’re not a blogger anymore—you’re a politician now.” Every time I do something noticeable. It’s all nonsense. I’m exactly the same person who in 2007 started all those cases against Transneft, and long before that created the Committee for the Defense of Muscovites. I am engaged in political struggle. I do it in whatever formats are convenient for that struggle. Within an election campaign, I do what is required. In the past it wouldn’t even have occurred to me to reply to some journalist I didn’t know who wrote me something. But here you’re forced to comment on many things, to deal with the press more than you would like. — Your platform includes a point about eliminating censorship in city-run media. At the same time, until now you could hardly be called a defender of press freedom... — Me?! — Yes. Colleagues, for example, complain that you are not exactly a very accessible politician. So the question arises: how can someone who doesn’t trust journalists ensure freedom of speech, even at the level of city media? — I always thought journalists liked me very much... First: unfortunately, it so happens that I am the only independent politician in Russia who is also based in Moscow, so the entire press constantly wants to interview me. I have neither the time nor enough words to give interviews to everyone. I am the most open candidate. I give interviews three times a day—every media outlet is flooded with my interviews—but unfortunately for me, I can’t satisfy even 5% of the interview requests, because that would consume all my time. In fact, I would like to give more interviews. I’d like to give interviews to Komsomolskaya Pravda and Argumenty i Fakty, but they don’t ask me. Right now, during the election campaign, I’m giving a lot of interviews. Between election campaigns, I’d rather be working on my Yakunin scheme than answering stupid questions about Russia’s fate. — There’s also your well-known attitude toward journalists: hand in your press cards and go to rallies, you useless people. So the question is: what guarantees are there that, if you win, you won’t want to use journalists for your own purposes? This goes back to censorship in city media. — That is precisely the guarantee: I think it is normal for a journalist to have a clearly expressed political position. A clearly expressed political orientation in the media is normal. I am only against paid-for planted articles. The guarantee is that I will change the system of governance for city media. Right now there is this Gorbenko (Moscow deputy mayor Alexander Gorbenko. — Gazeta.Ru), there is the ownership structure, and there are political talking points handed down from above. I believe the city does not need the TV channel Moscow 24, and if it does need it, then it should not have an editorial board dependent on the mayor; there should be no Gorbenko there and no bureaucratic oafs on the board of directors. No more feeding pointless district newspapers that exist only to praise the current district head and the mayor. I’m not going to spend money on that: it’s unnecessary. — You get a lot of questions about migrants from Asian countries. There has been a lot of talk about them being unfortunate people who have effectively fallen into slavery to unscrupulous employers. I don’t really understand the promise to introduce visas coming from a mayoral candidate: the decision to impose a visa regime with a given country is made by the federal government. — It is a federal issue. But when the mayor of Kostroma raises the issue of a visa regime, that is one thing. When the mayor of a city where 15% of the country’s population lives and 85% of its migrants are concentrated raises the issue of visas at the demand of millions of Muscovites—a mayor who has the right of legislative initiative—I am sure the federal authorities can absolutely be forced to introduce visas. Especially since the majority of the country’s population, not just Muscovites, supports that demand. And I am the only candidate who supports a visa regime. — There is another question about nationality policy. You propose visas for citizens of Central Asian and Transcaucasian countries. But often what irritates Muscovites is not them, but some people from the North Caucasus. You said they should be banned from dancing lezginka on Manezhnaya Square. And I don’t understand how you can ban Russian citizens from doing something, for example dancing on Manezhnaya Square... — If you had attended my meetings with voters, you would know the answer to that question. At 89 meetings with voters, I answered that question about 80 times. When people say they are unhappy about migration, what they usually mean is armed Dagestani wedding processions, the North Caucasus, the Chechen Republic, and so on. Here there can be only one approach: these are Russian citizens. To fight negative manifestations, all you need is one law applied equally to everyone. Under Russian law, some dubious bearded Chechens in tracksuit pants carrying Stechkin pistols cannot be sitting in the President Hotel scaring visitors. They simply cannot be there. Right now, when there are three hooligans—a Russian, a Dagestani, and a Chechen—the Criminal Procedure Code is applied differently to each of them. They pick up the Chechen and start asking: does he have an uncle in Chechnya, would this upset the delicate relationship with Ramzan Kadyrov? That is why these “Dagestani weddings” exist: every time the police want to do something about them, they need approval. When three identical hooligans are taken to the police in exactly the same way and each gets three days in detention, then the situation will start to change. Under Mayor Navalny, the police will treat a hooligan as a hooligan, not as a Russian, a Chechen, or a Dagestani. — But what does lezginka on Manezhnaya Square have to do with that? Is that hooliganism? — When we talk about lezginka on Manezhnaya Square, the first thing we need to do is stop being hypocritical. We are talking about specific examples of this lezginka that everyone knows about. Some teenage Chechens, whose parents ought to box their ears, were organizing through VKontakte to go to Manezhnaya Square and provoke everyone there. In response, Russians start making their own groups: “Oh, they’re going there to dance? Let’s go there and chase them off!” Then they get into a fight. What happens on Manezhnaya Square is real petty hooliganism. It is a provocative act intended to harass passersby and provoke fights and scandals. All of this is an unacceptable situation that the mayor of Moscow should fight. Let the police take them in, give them a talking-to, and hand them back to their parents—and let their parents box their ears. The same actions have different consequences in different contexts. Sunbathing in a swimsuit in the park is normal. But if you walk through the metro in a swimsuit or naked, that is not normal. It is provocation and hooliganism. And the police will take you in. — Your proposal to hire private security firms to protect the city seems extremely odd. It’s clear these super-security guards would have no real powers: your platform says they should “patrol the streets, keep order,” and call the police in case of trouble. So in the end it seems both a bold proposal and a pointless one. A rather unwise use of money. There was already the idea of volunteer Cossack patrols with vague powers—and everyone laughed at that... — It is a very sensible use of money. This practice is used in Europe and the United States. Streets need patrolling. Like street cameras, it is a preventive measure. If potential offenders know the street is being watched, that reduces crime. Yes, they have no right to arrest, detain, search, or handcuff anyone. But they drive around, record everything, and call the police quickly. They have clear instructions on how to interact with the police and in what cases they definitely need to call them. — You also propose increasing the number of surveillance cameras, even though there already seem to be plenty. Why? Doesn’t that just lead to more control over citizens? — At one point, at the Anti-Corruption Foundation (designated by Russia’s Justice Ministry as a “foreign agent,” declared an extremist organization, and banned in Russia), we tried to examine and challenge a multi-billion-ruble tender for installing surveillance cameras in Moscow. We were told the tender was secret, a state secret. A couple of years later it turned out that half the cameras were dummies, and the other half did not produce images of the required resolution. They simply stole the money and installed low-quality cameras that could not read license plates or photograph faces. There are cities with positive experience using cameras—London, Singapore. Yes, citizens may of course feel some discomfort from everything being recorded. But if we put discomfort on one side of the scales and the importance of reducing street crime on the other, then reducing street crime outweighs it. — So security is more important than freedom after all? — Freedom is important. No one is going to put a camera in your apartment. But there should be a camera in the elevator. When you come home at two in the morning, you would want to know there is a camera in the elevator and that someone may be watching it. For example, that same private security employee. Of course any normal person would want a surveillance camera in their building entrance. — There is a certain paradox in the fact that the main opposition candidate is essentially proposing tighter surveillance of citizens. — I am not proposing tighter surveillance of citizens. I am proposing decisions that are made in all major cities, including in countries where civil liberties are valued above all else, like the United States or the United Kingdom. Cameras are everywhere; the point is simply to approach it sensibly. Public spaces are public spaces—let everything there be recorded. — You have repeatedly said that, in your view, a second round of the election is inevitable. Your headquarters is pushing that theme very aggressively. Why? It seems as though you are deliberately stoking your supporters’ disappointment in the election results... — There are trends: my rating is unquestionably rising and Sobyanin’s is unquestionably falling, which is why we are talking about a second round. We believe in it and consider it inevitable. — And what happens if Sobyanin wins in the first round? — We would like to receive exactly as many votes as Muscovites cast for us. If that happens, then nothing will happen. — Meaning, if the election is clean, then... — It already won’t be clean. By definition it is already unfair. Turn on Moscow 24—Sobyanin is in every news bulletin. They even reran an old KVN show on Channel One simply because Sobyanin had appeared on stage in it. Yes, the election is competitive, I am competing with Sobyanin, but it is by no means fair. With equal access to television channels, Sobyanin would not stand the slightest chance. But we would at least like the vote count to be honest. If the count is honest, everything will be fine. You cannot bring people into the streets for no reason; they do not come out just like that. They came out on December 5 and 10 not because someone called them out, but because three thousand observers were telling everyone how they had been thrown out of polling stations. Because everything was flooded with videos of fraud, because all Muscovites knew fraud had taken place and were outraged by it. You cannot artificially stage unrest. But if our votes are stolen, we will not stay silent. — And what will happen? — I don’t know what will happen. I don’t know what kind of fraud system they have in place or how many ballots they plan to stuff. We will act in a way appropriate to the situation, within the law. — The Communists, for example, also think there will be a second round. But in their view, Sobyanin will face Melnikov. What do you make of that scenario? What would you do then? — Every candidate’s headquarters naturally tries to encourage itself and mobilize its supporters. That is normal. But I am sure there will be a second round, and I will be in it. — Today is the deadline for the defense to review the records in the Kirovles case. After that, the case goes to the regional court and the appeal process begins. So a date for the first hearing could be set as early as the 9th. Do you think that just happened by chance? — They simply picked a date that would give them a news hook on the eve of the “day of silence,” to remind all Muscovites, run a lot of reports about how Navalny stole all the timber, and say that in fact a sentence is hanging over him, so voting for him is pointless. That is the first motive. The second motive is that, just like us, they are allowing for a “Plan B”—they consider a second round very likely and are keeping an option open in case it happens. We know that in second rounds, obvious favorites often lose. They are preserving the possibility of knocking me out of the race by these quasi-legal methods. — I only have one question left. How is candidate Navalny feeling right now? After Kirovles, after this campaign, and with the possible prospect of a second round? — Candidate Navalny feels great. It’s hard work, but very interesting work. When I come to headquarters and see hundreds of volunteers, it is the most inspiring sight imaginable. I understand that it is a huge responsibility—to justify these people’s hopes, not disappoint them, and continue to lead them regardless of the election result. The fatigue is there, but it passes. You just have to lie down and get some sleep. — And do you get much sleep? — Everything is relative. Right now I could be in a pretrial detention center or a general-regime penal colony, where I would have plenty of opportunities to sleep but fewer opportunities to give interviews to Gazeta.Ru. So in any case, I feel great right now.