[music]
Hi, this is Navalny. It’s 8:18 p.m. in Moscow, and that
means I’m back in the studio, live on air,
to answer your
questions and to discuss
the latest events of the week, and to tear into everyone
who deserves our criticism.
Please send your questions with the
hashtag #Navalny2018 on Twitter, and I’ll
pick them up and try to answer them.
And please don’t forget to like
this video, because we—you probably know—we’ve been
fighting for many
months now in an unequal battle against Putin’s cook
Prigozhin, who uses dislikes
to constantly drag down
our video’s rating and make sure it
gets fewer views. So
we’re counting on you—please click
that button. Today I have several
topics, but two main ones
that are causing
me a lot of emotional turmoil, so I’ll
probably be swearing a lot. The second topic
is our Suleiman Kerimov, who has found himself
in certain difficult circumstances, and we’ll
talk about that a bit later. But at the start
of the program, I wanted to launch a poll so that
when we get to it, I’ll already
have a sense of what you think about it.
So, Kerimov—
his lawyers paid 350 million
rubles, roughly, so that he could be released
on bail and get out of jail.
We know where Suleiman
Kerimov’s money comes from, so we can safely say
that it’s our money. We paid his
bail for him. For each of us, for each
viewer, that comes to two and a half rubles. The question
we’re asking on VKontakte, on
Facebook, on Twitter, and even on
Odnoklassniki, on the Navalny Live program, is:
Do you begrudge two and a half rubles
for Suleiman Kerimov’s bail?
Please answer, and a little later we’ll
discuss all of it. But the first topic
I wanted to talk about is, of course,
the radioactive cloud over Russia.
A huge radioactive cloud is drifting across the country.
It’s astonishing, because no one
still really
seems to understand whether this is a real story or not.
It’s barely being discussed
in the media. Even now,
some time after
it all happened, as is customary in
Russia, even in the uncensored
segment, it’s being discussed with a kind of haha,
hee-hee tone.
Thanks to our media,
I think it was Vesti.ru,
which put out a wonderful story saying
that over Bashkiria (Bashkortostan, a republic in Russia) there was
a safe ruthenium rain.
And of course there have been lots of jokes about it. We’re all
trying out our humor—will we get
superpowers from being
rained on like that, will we become
stronger and healthier?
And basically everyone is trying
to outdo everyone else, while in fact there has been no
serious or substantial reaction
from the media,
from state media, or from the
state authorities themselves. We don’t see or
hear anything, we don’t understand anything. I think this is
an important issue.
In fact, it’s an extremely important issue, and
of course you can joke about anything.
Let’s joke, sure—but at the same time
while we’re making lots of jokes
about our superpowers from
ruthenium, let’s still discuss this
seriously, because it concerns
millions of people. If this cloud
—if you looked at the dispersal map now,
published, incidentally, by Western
agencies—had affected Moscow, I
assure you, the whole discussion would have been
completely different. First of all, we would have seen
planes and officials taking
their children away for a while on
vacation to Europe, and we
would also, in fact, have heard far more
worried comments from
the authorities. After all, we’re
Moscow officials—our kids walk
on the grass, dig in the dirt or in the snow.
Sure, physicists told us
that ruthenium is completely safe, and
that even a thousandfold increase wouldn’t
have any effect on our bodies at all.
But you have to admit, that sounds a little
unpleasant, so just in case we’d
take some measures. But since this affected
Chelyabinsk—well, whatever, who cares.
Let’s just keep joking
about it. I’m going to Chelyabinsk, I’ll be in
Chelyabinsk on Sunday. No, that’s not
the main reason why
this irritates me. It irritates me, among
other things, because of everything happening around it,
because my father was born in
the village of Zalissia in the Chernobyl district
of Kyiv region (in Ukraine).
Naturally, I’ve been there many times. I’ve
been to the town of Chernobyl many times, I’ve been to
Pripyat. I was there before the accident, I was there
after the accident, and many of our
relatives lived through everything
that happened back then in 1986, and
well, it was—it was
a colossal catastrophe for the Soviet Union.
It was one of the reasons why
the Soviet Union collapsed: it simply could not, in general,
financially sustain dealing with the aftermath of
that disaster. I saw all of it, and what
is happening now with this ruthenium
This cloud strongly reminds me of everything
that happened back then with Chernobyl. God forbid,
I am absolutely not trying
to prove right now that a disaster has occurred
on the same scale, or that
the authorities are hiding such catastrophic
consequences, such catastrophic
radiation contamination. I simply
want to say that the pattern
of behavior—I’m not just, how can I put this to you now—
I can prove it—is absolutely the same, and that
shows that these people can easily
cover up any crime, and
in this situation, trusting the authorities
is impossible for even a second. And it seems to me
it is extremely important for the residents of Chelyabinsk, for the residents
of Ufa, and for the residents of the entire Urals and Volga region
who are under this supposedly harmless
ruthenium cloud, to understand this, and
it is important to force the authorities to say something
and somehow comment on all of this,
to make them carry out various
independent assessments. Now look, let’s
simply reconstruct the chronology of events
and where we learned all this from in the first place.
So, on October 6, the German agency
the German agency for
radiation protection stated that
there was, on the territory of Russia,
a serious increase in
radiation contamination. Then on the 11th
—on October 11—Rosatom stated that
this version was unfounded. But in effect
they were refuting what Germany had said. On October 13,
Russia’s Emergency Situations Ministry said that no
radiation cloud had been detected—that is,
there was nothing at all. They were lying. That was when
they were officially, outright lying. After that,
a French institute
published the results of computer
modeling and indicated that there was a cloud,
its source was ruthenium-106, and
the epicenter of its origin was most likely
the Chelyabinsk region. After that, many days later,
after quite a long time, Russia’s
hydrometeorological service was forced
to publish a bulletin stating
that radiation levels had indeed exceeded
normal conditions, and
that a release had been recorded and the excess over normal levels
was a thousandfold. After that, on November 21,
something completely
beyond belief happened. There were a lot of jokes about it—you
saw those headlines—but the governor
of the Chelyabinsk region said there was absolutely no need
to worry; we should drink beer
and watch football—it would help us
fight this very ruthenium cloud.
After that, Bashhydromet released its
report saying that a harmless
ruthenium rain had passed over Bashkortostan (a republic within Russia), at least
that is what they acknowledged—a kind of ruthenium
rain. And even now, to this day, we still do not have
a clear explanation of where all this
came from, what the final and definitive
position of the authorities actually is, and
whether there are any mechanisms
for independently verifying all of this. That is,
we have established that while they were lying that
there was no cloud, the cloud did in fact exist. It
had its epicenter on the territory
of the Urals. All of this has been proven. But as of
today, the authorities are no longer
denying these facts; what they deny is that there is
any harm to health. Let’s go back
to the terrible, catastrophic
year of 1986.
On April 26, an explosion occurred at night, at 1 a.m.
On April 27, the next day, 36
hours after the accident, it was announced over
the radio in the city of Pripyat, and
on April 28—I simply looked up the chronology—
after several days, a short
TASS statement said that an accident had occurred,
that one of the reactors had been damaged.
Meanwhile, people were going to work, children
were going to kindergarten,
while a real cloud of severe, massive
radioactive contamination
was spreading, radioactive dust
was settling,
people kept going about their lives, children kept going out, and the authorities continued
to lie. On April 29, in Poland they began
distributing iodine-containing medication, and in
Germany, in some cities,
playgrounds were closed. In other words, after three days,
in Germany and in
other places they were already dealing with the consequences, while at the
epicenter of the events
nothing had supposedly happened. On May 1, across the country, across
the entire Soviet Union,
May Day demonstrations took place. In Kyiv and in
Minsk, people marched through the streets because
it was very important for the authorities to show that nothing
had happened—that in Germany some fools
had stirred up panic, but our Soviet people
would march through the squares with banners,
breathing in this radioactive filth and
with every breath increasing the likelihood
of terrible cancers
for themselves—all to prove, supposedly, that nothing
had happened. Just from the history of my
family:
during the May holidays, they were all sent out
specifically to dig potatoes and do
farm work, in order, among
other things, to demonstrate—well, rumors
were spreading—they lived in a village, not in
the city of Pripyat,
where nuclear specialists understood what
was happening and left fairly quickly. But
ordinary
collective farm workers around those towns knew
that something was happening, that there was some kind of
evacuation, some kind of commotion, excuse my language, but
they were told: right, you will go
and dig around in this soil,
this radioactive soil.
to stir it with your finger, and the same kind of thing
this radioactive dust, but we will prove it
which supposedly means that nothing serious happened
so that everyone, so that everyone could see what happened next
it is interesting what happens after
international herald of the child on May 5
published a map of the spread
of radioactive fallout and decided to respond
to foreigners, Russian scientists, and on May 10
two weeks after the accident, an academician
of the Academy of Sciences, Mikhail Shandolu, stated
that on May 19 the radiation level would return to
normal, and everyone said... and that
what is happening in Chelyabinsk right now, when
they tell us, "So what are you even discussing? An order has been given."
"You do not understand anything; now we will
show you scientists, and the scientists will explain everything to you"
they will clarify everything
exactly the same thing happened in 1986
scientists came out and said, well,
"We are scientists, trust us: on May 19
the radiation level in Kyiv will return to
normal." On June 10, the Soviet Union's media said
that in the city of Kyiv there were no grounds
for taking any
special measures, and at that very moment, as we now know,
the radiation level exceeded
the normal level by 10 times. Once again, I do not
want to stir up any panic, I do not want
to say that in Chelyabinsk right now
something similar to what happened
in Chernobyl has happened, but I am simply talking about
the fact that the authorities lie as a matter of habit, and to believe
even a single word now from these chief
oncologists or these participants is simply
impossible, impossible
judging by experience in that very same
Chelyabinsk, by the way, you probably, if
you know your history, know that in
1957 there was an accident at the
Mayak chemical plant, which in fact, by
its scale, exceeded even
Chernobyl, but it was hidden from everyone
simply no one knew about it; we learned
about this accident, I mean the general public learned
only when Perestroika (the Soviet reform period of the late 1980s) began
we... this should be here
a note from the newspaper *Chelyabinsky Rabochy*; we
can show it too, because on September 29
1957 there was a column
of smoke and dust up to a kilometer high
it shimmered orange-red, and everyone
was watching; it was impossible to hide it
we do not have the screenshots, unfortunately, so I will read it to you
here is the note from October 6, 1957
in the newspaper *Chelyabinsky Rabochy*: "On
last Sunday evening, many
Chelyabinsk residents observed a special glow
in the starry sky. This rather rare
glow in our latitudes had all the
signs of the northern lights." Just think about it: they
knew an accident had happened, they knew that
radiation was spreading, they knew that
people would get sick and die as a result
of it, but in the Urals they said it was the northern
lights. Can these people be trusted? No,
it is absolutely impossible to trust them
Chelyabinsk Region
is, frankly speaking, already a troubled region in terms of
disease rates, but in fact
the entire Urals, and Chelyabinsk Region in particular,
there, there... I looked it up today, well, I pulled up
the specific statistics: there are currently
90,000 people registered at cancer
centers. That is more than two and a half
percent of the population registered at oncology
centers — every 39th person
If this cloud — God forbid — even if it is
not that terrible, I hope it is not
I hope it is not terrible at all, but
still, the radiation level rose a thousandfold; if
this increases the rate of oncological
diseases by even one percent, that
already means that thousands of people will have
their lives broken, and thousands of families in the coming
period will be running around trying to find
medicines, trying to arrange surgeries, and
so on and so forth. People need
to be given proper information
either they need to be reassured, including
by bringing in independent experts
foreign ones if you like, because we
as we have seen
historically, foreigners here lie less
than our own people. Or, if there are
grounds for concern, then we should not
act on the logic of, "so there will be no
panic, let us hide everything," but honestly
say: "Guys, go outside less often,
stay off the streets
spend less time out in the precipitation, close
the vents/windows
let the children stay indoors for a while"
Let us tell people this so that they
can protect themselves a little and reduce
the risk of disease. Our
government does not do this. Once again, this
shows just how
disgustingly deceitful it is, how little it
cares about people at all. Besides
by the way, this is a very good example
that shows how thoroughly we have
destroyed all independent environmental
NGOs, and how they were all purged and declared
"foreign agents," so now
there is no such parallel
opinion. Even if they were
alarmists, these ecologists always seemed
inclined to exaggerate things — let
them exaggerate now rather than
downplay it, right? Because it is better
to spend an extra three days at home
with the windows shut than to later treat
blood cancer. Again, I hope that no one
will face such consequences
but nevertheless, I would be very
interested if you, if you live in
the city of Chelyabinsk, would write to me
Please, here’s what’s happening there, what’s going on in the city.
in your communities, what you personally think
about this, because, well, frankly speaking,
Hello, Alexei, I’m under the red haze.
Under the toxic rain—when are you coming to Ufa?
What should I do if I’m 15 and my parents won’t
let me hand out leaflets?
My name is Danil Abubakirov.
Danil, first of all, you don’t need to ask for
any permission to hand out leaflets.
Well, I mean, if your parents are strongly
against it, just talk to them,
find out why they’re against it, what you could
Being out under the toxic rain is bad—no, no,
you shouldn’t be standing in the rain. What matters to me is
that everything is safe, even with the toxic rain,
and that it’s safe. If you can’t hand things out without getting soaked, then don’t.
And I’m planning to come to Ufa very soon,
because right now we’re working
with a private venue. The local
authorities are terribly afraid of my visit.
They absolutely refuse—we’ve filed hundreds of
applications to hold a rally there,
and they haven’t approved a single one.
They won’t give us permission. Let me just say right away
which regions I’m going to, since we’ve started
talking about it. So, this week
tomorrow morning I’m flying to Perm, then I’ll
be in Vladimir at 12 noon on Saturday.
It’ll be a packed day: at 12 noon in
Vladimir, and then in Nizhny Novgorod I’ll be at
5:00 p.m. It’ll be a difficult day, difficult
rallies, and in both places they gave us terribly
bad venues, but we decided to go ahead anyway.
It’s especially important to hold one in Nizhny
Novgorod—I’m finally coming there after all.
I already served 20 days in jail over the rally
in Nizhny Novgorod, and then on Sunday I’ll
be in Chelyabinsk, and probably there we’ll, well,
also all gather together.
We’ll discuss all these things there.
Please come to the rallies.
Of course, the most problematic situation for us
in terms of pressure is in Perm.
What happened there, even by the standards of the usual
lawless chaos surrounding
our rallies and meetings,
was really something extraordinary.
The police simply came into the campaign office and
just took the equipment—for example,
the mobile phones of the people who were
there. They just seized them, loaded them into
those lovely plastic garbage bags
you can see, and carried them away. And right now you
may be thinking, well no, surely
Navalny is exaggerating,
there must have been some criminal case,
even a fake one, and maybe they filled out some
documents. But guys, I’m not exaggerating.
That’s exactly what it was: the police just came in,
said, “Put the printers in the bags,” and, “Oh,
there’s a phone lying there—take it, we’re confiscating it, into the bag,”
and they carried it all off. That’s called
robbery. People in police uniform simply walked in,
with police IDs,
and robbed the office, without any embarrassment, in front of cameras,
without any embarrassment in front of the people there, without any
documents, without any legal grounds.
Why are they so furious? Because
in Perm too—well, how do you say it properly when talking about someone going
there on Friday?
There too,
some brave local residents were found
from several homes who gave us their
private plots of land, so in Perm
my rally will take place
on private enclosed property.
I invite everyone to come. But the authorities
are going crazy because
they kept denying us permission for a rally,
and then residents said, “All right, fine, we’ll just
offer our own land for a meeting with
Navalny.” This is very important. I’m waiting for all of you
at these meetings. So, what are you writing to me about?
Some of you are writing about Chelyabinsk, some about
Perm. Valeria writes that teachers in Perm have been ordered
to make all schools
organize celebrations, class
events, and evening activities
tomorrow during your meeting. So that’s what
democracy looks like in Perm. Interesting, right? And that’s where
they have that supposedly progressive new governor,
Reshetnikov.
I keep saying it: all these
“progressive technocrats,”
these people in square glasses, are a hundred times worse
than the “red governors”
of the Yeltsin era—they’ll steal more and
be even more lawless. That’s exactly what
we’re seeing very clearly in Perm right now.
Mikhaila Badyuk writes: “I live in Chelyabinsk,
and for several years we’ve been fighting against
the construction of the mining and processing plant.
The environmental situation is terrible, and the authorities aren’t responding.”
Will you be at the rally on Sunday? Yes, I will.
I was at the previous rally against
the Tominsky GOK (a mining and processing plant near Chelyabinsk). I was there, I spoke there, and I’m
very glad, and I congratulate
you—cautiously, because after all
this is a success for the residents of Chelyabinsk, because
they forced Putin to say that he
also opposes this project. By the way, I
as a shareholder in Sberbank and
VTB, also wrote—trying to make my own
small contribution. I wrote to the
heads of these banks, which are supposed to
finance the Tominsky GOK project,
which is harmful, unprofitable, and unnecessary for the region,
asking them not to do it.
Indeed, Chelyabinsk has monstrous
environmental problems, and then on top of that this
toxic cloud—well, it would be out of place in any
region, of course, but in
Chelyabinsk it’s an outright
catastrophe. So, Chelyabinsk, Chelyabinsk—I live
in Chelyabinsk.
After Putin’s visit, there was basically a
full-scale smog episode here—the factories were working at triple capacity.
smoldering routine and Alexander Sokolov
writes: well, no, they probably didn’t switch them on
additional factories for Putin’s arrival
as far as I know, it was the other way around there
when Putin arrived, they stopped them
before that, all the hazardous industries
that produce those kinds of emissions
I saw a great many messages from
residents of Chelyabinsk saying, “I’ve lived here for many
years, and for the first time I’m enjoying clean
air. But Putin left, and they probably
switched everything back on
in order to make up for it
make up for it, so it’s back to the usual mode in
the city—who knows, we’re living with radiation as
we always have,” Jackie P. writes to me
so apparently, as I understand it, this is communication
from a person at Moscow State University who is somehow connected with
this field, and he points out to us
that there are, in fact, such
problems. So, Chelyabinsk is absolutely blowing up on Twitter
and so it’s hard for me
to quickly pick out all your questions
Dear Alexei, all right then, you
say that everyone in the government, all the heads
of the regions—in general, all corrupt officials—
should be jailed, but could you name those
who are now at the top and deserve to remain
and could genuinely help Russia
asks Novy Pelmeni on
on a slightly unrelated topic. I’m not saying
that I’m going to jail everyone—well, I’ll try to
have them jailed, or more specifically, I’ll
send them to the defendant’s bench. Your
president should not have the power
to throw everyone in jail. As for
the people who are currently
at the top of the government
most of them are corrupt. There is
some portion of them that is not
corrupt, certainly, but they are not
fit to govern right away
the state, because they are
part of this system. He may simply not
steal for himself, but he enables
the stealing
done by someone else. In other words, it’s
a strange idea of accountability
like, “I won’t be corrupt myself, but I’ll
keep quiet about all the corruption
going on around me.” It seems to me
that such people are not right for us
Eduard Sukharev writes that with Dzhabrail
there’s a hellish injustice in trying to recruit
new judges and deputies after you
dissolve them. Eduard, it’s not that hard to recruit
new judges—millions aren’t needed. A judge
is still a highly specialized profession, and we
have a sufficient number of people
to, first, recruit new judges
and second, what matters more here is not recruiting
new ones, but changing the system. Right now there is
a special personnel commission in
the Presidential Administration that
de facto appoints judges. These
commissions are the main instrument explaining why
judges are kept under control, and they
need to be abolished, they need to be abolished
along with this kind of serf-like system inside the courts
when judges are slaves to the court chairman
then they will begin
begin
to work better. Arslan N. asks me
Alexei and Natalia, don’t be afraid to come to
the Chelyabinsk cloud of ruthenium
of ruthenium. Arslan, if this is the same
Arslan, he is one of the winners of our
blogger contest. Arslan, if it is you
writing this, I’m waiting. I hope that in
Chelyabinsk, and I hope that you will
open the rally before I do. No, I’m not
afraid to go into the cloud of ruthenium because
the whole country has environmental problems
that are monstrous. A resident of Maryino—you know, I lived
for many, many years, and now I rent an apartment
here on Avtozavodskaya; I used to live opposite
an oil refinery that had
such a flare and so much smoke that at night
it was simply impossible to breathe there, so
of course you people in Chelyabinsk are tough with your
ruthenium cloud, but I want to
tell you that Kapotnya
our oil refinery
is no better at all. I’d like to see how you
Chelyabinsk folks would come to us in Maryino and
breathe this here. Suleiman Kerimov
has been having very bad luck in the city of Nice, and I
wanted to say a little about Kerimov and his
case, but today I had this
additional emotional charge, you know
on this topic. I did a very simple thing
you may not be ready, because I’m going to
tell you about Mr. Kerimov briefly
but I went and looked up his
declaration on
the Federation Council website, because Kerimov
is an official. For many years he was a State Duma deputy
from the LDPR, then from United Russia
and now in the Federation Council. So, in
general, in recent years he
has been a government official. He receives from us
a salary, and he is prohibited from engaging in
business, and generally speaking
that is his main defining characteristic
because everywhere in the newspapers they write
“businessman Suleiman Kerimov.” Guys,
what kind of businessman is he? He is forbidden
to engage in business. We should say
official Suleiman Kerimov
That is exactly why I asked whether you were ready
to give your two and a half rubles toward
his bail, and here are the first responses: so, yes
it’s a shame, yes, a shame—or no, not a shame. But our
question was: would you begrudge two and a
half rubles for Kerimov’s bail?
So, on Twitter, 89 percent of people
say they would begrudge it; on VKontakte
91 percent say they would
I feel sorry for 96 percent of people on Facebook and 90
percent on Odnoklassniki — the most
heartless people this time are on
Odnoklassniki. They feel sorry, you feel sorry, and on
Odnoklassniki — sorry, on Facebook — they feel sorry for
giving
money for Kerimov's bail. That's how it is.
I feel very sorry too. I can say that
I simply feel sorry for two and a half rubles
for him. I'm sorry that he was arrested in
France. If he had been arrested in Russia, I would be glad
that he was arrested in France, and I
regret only one thing: that he was not
put in prison here in Russia.
Let's first take a look at
Kerimov's income.
Here, today I pulled up his income for
the last several years. Well, as you can see,
there are some substantial amounts: 199
million rubles, 95 million rubles, 12
million rubles, 12 million rubles. That
is his latest figure. Well, I mean,
it's much more than the average
person earns. But this is his income over
four years, and it's less than what he
paid for himself in France as bail.
So basically, if you add up his four-
year income and assume he didn't eat
or drink, didn't drive a Ferrari around Nice
through the city of Nice, then even so he still would
not have had enough money for this bail. But he
paid it, and then I decided to look at what
he has in real estate. Again,
an oligarch. What is he accused of? That he
owns some astonishingly
large and astonishingly expensive villas
near, I mean,
Antibes on the French Riviera. Let's
take a look at the houses and see which of this
he registered and what he failed to declare.
Please show just a screenshot
of the declaration. And here, we should
just, guys, burst into tears. We should simply
cry, because it turns out that according to
his property declaration, Suleiman Kerimov
— a permanent fixture on the Forbes list, of whom
it is plainly written in black and white
in every issue of Forbes that
Suleiman Kerimov
has a fortune of six billion
rubles — has nothing. As it turns out, you know,
he has a one-room apartment of 37 square meters (about 398 sq ft) and
some other two-room apartment. He's poorer than me,
because I, after all,
do actually
have a share in an apartment measuring seventy-
eight square meters (about 840 sq ft). Marina,
right now I'm also renting an apartment
of more than 100 square meters (about 1,076 sq ft), by the way. And in that
sense, Suleiman Kerimov is simply
a pauper compared to me. He
must envy my living conditions and
is utterly poor compared to everyone
else. This, frankly speaking,
is just infuriating. Forget France — over
this man there should be running
the Prosecutor General's Office and the Investigative Committee (Russia's main federal investigative body),
because, well, the scale of the thievery is
fantastic.
The man is constantly in the news: one moment he's
buying football clubs, the next he's involved with some
charitable foundations, then he gets into
some kind of car accidents in vehicles worth
hundreds of thousands of dollars, and so on and so
forth. And all he shows us is this: for many years now
he's been looking at us
like some official sitting on a salary, and there are
his colleagues around him, and he says, 'Guys, my name is
Suleiman Kerimov,'
'and in my ownership there is
an apartment with an area of 37 square meters (about 398 sq ft), and'
And we say, 'Yes, we believe you, Suleiman, that's exactly how it is.'
Suleiman says it, and Valentina
Matviyenko (chair of Russia's Federation Council) says, 'Yes, that's exactly how it is.' Suleiman says it, and
the Federal Security Service (FSB) tells him,
'Dear Suleiman, we believe you,' says
the commission for reviewing the income and expenses
of state officials: 'We believe you,' says
the Presidential Administration. What kind of
system is this? Well, obviously it's all lies. Here
they write about him here that he has 6 billion
dollars in wealth, and he declares
to us an apartment of 37 square meters. Are we supposed to
believe that?
So yes, of course, I am glad that he was detained
in France. I hope he will face
real criminal prosecution.
I very much hope so. I would like
the Russian Federation
to also somehow pay attention to this
and say, 'Well now, it turns out
goodness me — under the weight already
of the French legal evidence. But
we also took a look at him and tried
to recover some amount of our money.'
Because this money — this money laundering
that took place in France — where did the money
come from? Presumably, we were the first
to suffer from it, and only secondly
France.
The French latched onto these several
million — they accuse him of
having
bought this villa at an artificially low price and thereby
failed to pay several
million euros in taxes. And the French say:
'With several million euros, we can
build a new school, or we can build
a new hospital, or perhaps we can spend it
on our army or police, and maybe
we'll build a new road. So come on,
Suleiman, pay this money to the French
state.' And we — we know how
Suleiman Kerimov made his money: he effectively
robbed Sberbank for many years. He bought
Sberbank shares, took loans secured by those
Sberbank shares, and then bought more
Sberbank shares again. This is just... this is simply
It was a scheme that was legally prohibited.
It existed even before Gref, but he made money from it, and
then invested all of it—essentially
stolen money from the privatization of raw-materials
companies. His $6 billion is
effectively money stolen from Russia, and
it turns out the entire Russian state
simply does not care. The only thing
the Russian state says on this subject is
that it is trying to prove that he has
diplomatic status and diplomatic
immunity. In other words, we are protecting
the person who stole our
money,
launders it in France, and the French decided
to collect a bit of tax from him over it.
We are not even trying to collect our own taxes; we
are protecting him with some kind of official
passport. If these houses belong to Suleiman
Kerimov,
we at the Anti-Corruption Foundation are absolutely
convinced of it.
We know, and we believe that we can
prove it, including the fact that he has
this property. Let's take a look at
this wonderful image: here we see three
villas—actually, three villas in Cap d'Antibes most
often in the media you
see information only about the villa
Hier, which is in the middle, and
Suleiman Kerimov is accused of being
the owner of that villa. You can
basically repeat the
exercise that we at the Foundation
for Fighting Corruption carried out: take the documents
from the recently published so-called
Paradise Papers, in the published
portion.
There is a special website there that is convenient
to use: enter the name Suleiman
Kerimov, and you will find an offshore company that belongs to him,
and you will also discover that
the manager of that offshore company, the director of those
offshore entities, is a certain Mr.
Studhalter. We know this man's connection
to Suleiman Kerimov, and we know it because
the first sad episode involving Kerimov
was when he, together with Tina
Kandelaki, got into a car crash, as you may remember.
It was a Ferrari, some kind of
super-expensive car—I don't remember
exactly which one anymore.
And that car belonged to this
Mr. Studhalter, and he is connected to
all of his companies. And the same Studhalter
manages the special legal entities
that are used in France
most often for acquiring real estate.
These three villas that you saw
belong to companies that are under
Studhalter's management.
Their compact location, and quite a lot besides,
which I won't burden you with right now
in the form of various legal details,
as it seems to us—and we are convinced of this with
one hundred percent certainty—shows
that all of this belongs to Mr.
Kerimov.
And he did not declare any of it. He bought all of it
at an undervalued price and violated
French laws. He violated Russian
laws too. As I already said, he violated
half the reporting rules, violated
tax rules here, he had offshore assets, and not only did he fail to declare them,
he not only failed to declare them,
he also had, and evidently still has,
bank accounts undeclared in Russia,
and violated a large number
of all sorts of absurd rules introduced
by the Central Bank that apply to ordinary
people, but for some reason do not apply
to Kerimov. In other words, the French
were the first to say that this man
is a criminal, that he broke the law. We are now
checking again exactly what laws he broke
in fact. We believe that he has
four villas. Today, once again,
we had in our
investigations department a discussion on
this subject, and a joke came up there:
that
why does Suleiman Kerimov have four villas
on the French Riviera? Because
under Sharia, a Muslim man may have
four wives, but each wife must have
her own house, so he bought four villas
on the French Riviera.
So this man is a criminal. Russia, unfortunately,
is not making any
claims against him.
We will try to make sure that Russia
does at least take some steps on this
issue. Therefore, now, based on the
circumstances uncovered by
the French police and made public through these
so-called Paradise
Papers, we will be appealing to
the Prosecutor General's Office, the Investigative Committee,
and the Federation Council,
which are currently doing nothing
to formalize this
process and force Mr. Kerimov,
when he returns to us—I don't know whether
from under travel restrictions or from a
French prison—to explain how, with
a relatively modest income,
he came to possess these
wonderful, magnificent villas
worth tens, perhaps hundreds,
of millions of euros.
What do you think about the interpreter? I got so
carried away that I stopped answering your
questions. Let me take a look. So what am I
going to do about the large number of churches?
I am not going to do anything about the large
number of churches. Let them remain,
a large number of churches. I am not going
to carry churches around, and so, guys, this in no way
It’s connected to the kind of madness that’s taking hold in the country.
It has nothing to do with any large number of
churches there or anything like that.
They’re asking whether Ulyukayev will be acquitted. I
just think that Ulyukayev will get
a suspended sentence, or he’ll get credit for the time he’s already
served. He’s been sitting under house
arrest for a year; they’ll give him, say, one year of actual
prison time, and that year of actual
prison will be counted as already served because of the house arrest.
The defense will count it as a year of real prison time.
Suleiman Kerimov is in France, so there are no dislikes.
Yulia Gnedina writes: there are no coincidences, none at all.
Suleyman Kerimov is responsible for the dislikes.
Prigozhin is responsible for them, don’t worry.
They’ll bring us another batch of dislikes again.
That’s what I mean—they’ll deliver them in full.
So, they’re asking about Yavlinsky.
What I can say about Yavlinsky is that he
has every right to run in the election.
It’s just that, unfortunately, he isn’t running any
real election campaign. Polygraph Sharikoff
writes: no big deal, Kadyrov will cure everyone of
cancer if anything happens. If you
missed that news, I talked a lot
about cancer-related illnesses.
It really is an astonishing thing.
What happened is that Kadyrov received
the highest award given to doctors—
to oncologists. I honestly no longer know
whether to laugh at it or grieve over it. It’s some kind of
complete absurdity that keeps happening there.
That’s really how it was, and we saw the video.
There are doctors sitting there—apparently they really are
doctors, apparently really
oncologists—and one of them says, ‘Dear
Ramzan Akhmatovich,
we would like to present you with the highest award
of the oncologists,’ and they all sit there nodding,
saying, ‘You have done so much for the development of
medicine,’ and Kadyrov just sits there
nodding his head. I mean, it’s a farce.
On the one hand; on the other hand, of course,
it’s
an absolutely insulting thing.
So, Alexei writes to me:
‘Please wear a hat to the rally,
so you don’t catch cold—it just seems like you might
get sick. And for Chelyabinsk it would be good
to take a dosimeter with you.’
That’s not stupid at all—quite the opposite, it’s not stupid
to take precautions. But
how exactly do you imagine it? I’m standing on
the stage in Chelyabinsk with a dosimeter, meaning
it starts beeping and then what?
Do I wrap myself in foil and run off the stage?
That would be hard to pull off. But
the hat, by the way, is a whole problem.
There
it’s already so cold. If you’re going to come
to the rally, dress
warmly. Speaking without a hat is
stupid.
But in a hat you look like an idiot. You just can’t
give a speech in a hat—it looks rather strange.
So honestly, we don’t know
what to do in this kind of complicated situation.
It’s unclear what to do about the hat. Alexander
asks how to take Kadyrov’s medal away from him.
No need. Don’t take away the medals they handed out—let that
be the least of our problems. What needs to be taken from Kadyrov
is the money, the illegally
acquired power he seized. The medal
can stay with him. Let’s say that of everything
Ramzan Kadyrov has, this
medal from the chief oncologist can remain.
When are you planning to go to St. Petersburg? Sklyarenko, I
have been planning to go to St. Petersburg for
many, many months already, but
St. Petersburg, in that sense—we and
the authorities have gotten into a complete
deadlock. Well, you know the whole story.
In St. Petersburg they flatly
won’t give me any
approval for holding
a rally there.
Lasse asks me—actually scolds me:
‘Alexei, I’ve been asking for four programs in a row now:
will you simplify the adoption procedure?
Well, I’m not ready right now
to say off the cuff that I’ll just simplify everything.
I know there is a very, very big
problem there—even close relatives
have a hard time going through the procedure
of adoption. It
is complicated, very bureaucratic.
It is not really aimed at
protecting the rights of the child. But to say that
I would just abolish it all right now—I’m not ready to say that.
I know the problem exists and I’m trying to study it better.
Alexei, is Mikhelson an oligarch?
I’m being asked—meaning
Mikhelson from the company
Novatek. Well yes, he is an oligarch, like any
very wealthy person
directly connected to the authorities.
Of course he is an oligarch, and you remember very well
that one of the forms of connection
between oligarch Mikhelson and the authorities was that
he directed money to that very fund from which
the dacha for Medvedev was built
(a reference to Dmitry Medvedev).
So without a doubt, Mikhelson is probably,
compared with other oligarchs, a fairly
likable guy, but nevertheless we
can see that he is implicated in all these
corrupt schemes, and of course
he is an oligarch, and his
activities, of course, should be
investigated. Alexei, tomorrow in Perm, at the rally, will you
be available, or
will it be possible just to take a photo with you?
I love taking photos, asks
Daniil. So Daniil, come, and
we’ll take as many photos with you as I can manage.
The only thing is, in Vladimir there will be
a problem with timing—in Vladimir we’ll be
in a hurry, and
go to Nizhny Novgorod—Sechin and the court don't...
ask too much about this, because
everyone is interested; it has turned into
a kind of sport—people are placing bets
on whether Sechin will show up in court this time
He was summoned to court as one of the
key witnesses in the Ulyukayev case, and obviously
he is supposed to testify in this trial
because a large part of the
materials is directly connected
to Sechin—the wiretapped conversation
between Ulyukayev and Sechin directly,
the conversations
inside the room—Ulyukayev and Sechin
the money being handed directly to Ulyukayev
by Sechin under the guise of some of his
sausages or something like that, so
of course the court cannot limit itself to
simply reading out his written
testimony; it has to summon him. But Sechin
is not coming. This is an interesting situation for me
It's doubly interesting, because
the first time I learned that Sechin
wasn't coming to court, I happened to be in
that situation—I had just arrived
from some region, and it was already 9 a.m.
I had just woken up; the night before
we had arrived, and I was lying there reading
this news on my phone, and at the same time
someone was ringing my apartment doorbell
and just pounding on the door with a fist
and this went on for several
days in a row. It was court bailiffs
trying to serve me some kind of
paper over and over. They send them to me,
bring everything to my office, and for some reason also come
and bring them to my home too. And this is their
routine: they come at seven in the morning; one
person starts ringing and just keeps
holding down the bell
while another person literally
beats on the door with a fist. And by now, I don't know, I
don't pay attention to it, and my wife doesn't
pay attention either; they go out with the children
in the morning to take them to school and say
the kids now just walk right past these
bailiffs without even paying attention, straight to the elevator
It's all become completely routine.
So, just feel the difference. We know
how the bailiff service works, and
until you pay them, they don't deal with
any court decisions, any
collections or enforcement actions.
But around me, they just run
in circles—at seven in the morning sharp, they're already there
showing up with some kind of witnesses,
people who are supposed to certify that
I supposedly refused to accept
their paper.
They stand outside the door for hours. I'm not
hiding from them—please, I'm here at the office, they
know that I'm about to leave the apartment and
go to the office.
They can run after me and hand me
whatever they want, but what matters to them
is to pound threateningly with their fists
on the door—in the literal sense
they knock for 40 minutes straight, an hour straight, like
they never get tired. And here I am reading that now
they simply can't get to him at all
and can't serve him documents at Ros
neft; they can't manage it in any way
can't even find a way to pass anything to him. This is
very interesting. I think he will come
only in one case: if Putin
personally tells him, basically, 'All right, Sechin, come.'
Because otherwise, everything is arranged in such a way
that no one is going to force him
The court won't even dare issue
an order for compulsory appearance, which it
should have done long ago. Well,
fine, say it issues the order—then what?
Are they going to storm Rosneft? You can't even
get close to Sechin
There is a huge security service
that stands above any police force, above
any FSB (Russia's security service), and certainly above
the timid bailiff service, which
stops being timid only when
it's pounding on my door. And I think he
will keep ignoring all of this, ignoring it
and ignoring it, and saying all these
amusing things like, 'I can't come
to court because I'm extremely busy.'
I even want to run an experiment:
the next time bailiffs come to
bring me in by force
or escort me somewhere—they've come here many
times to bring me in by force, I remember
they took me to Kirov, escorted me, even on the plane
they traveled with me
There in Kirov, I remember, at the hotel, they
had brought me in by force, and then sat there
while I stayed overnight before the court hearing
that night in the hotel, they were on duty under
the door. Sechin won't do anything like that, and
so the next time they try
to bring me in, I will write
a statement where I will repeat word for word what
Sechin wrote: I will write that due to
a very busy schedule that was set long ago,
I unfortunately cannot take part
in your various court proceedings and
you should leave me alone. And then we'll compare what
happened in Sechin's case with what happens
in my case. It will be very, very interesting
whether it will be the same or
whether it will be different. Looking at your questions now.
Sechin, Sechin... what should he take, and a session of
life-giving inhalation—I don't know what that
is.
Andrei Kasyanov asks: do you consider Gundyayev's
gang to be thieves, and should the
church be taxed? I don't think the church should
be taxed. Most
priests and clergy are
absolutely poor people, and of course
I do not consider all of them thieves.
It's a different matter that the Church should
be separate from the state, and my main
complaint right now against the
leadership of the Russian Orthodox Church (ROC) is that
it seems to me that not many of them
actually
believe in God at all. Markova asks me, Alexei,
from "Mir Spas Transformatsii," about the fact that you
left Russia for Europe permanently — is that
true? It's true, and you see, right now I'm broadcasting
from Amsterdam, and when tomorrow
morning I go — not to Perm, I will actually go
in fact not to Perm but to, well,
and then not to Chelyabinsk, I will go to
Luxembourg. But there's no need to believe
all this, all this terrible
nonsense they keep writing about me endlessly. I
live in Russia, my children live in Russia,
my family lives in Russia. I would very much like
for that always to remain the case. Alexei, you
were talking about these emissions in Chelyabinsk and
not only there, but what then do you plan
to do with all these factories? Simply
shutting them down isn't possible — those very
people would lose their jobs. Maybe move some
production out of the region? asks Maxim.
Excellent question, Maxim. Well, look,
what the state should do right
now, in real life — because we're not in
a fairy tale but in real life — so as far as
this cloud over Chelyabinsk is concerned,
the state is obliged, first, to disclose all
the information it has; second,
to invite independent environmental
organizations, including foreign ones, in order
for them to conduct monitoring
independently and report to the public
independent data on what is happening.
And in that way, probably, we would be able
to explain to people what is going on. As for
the factories and the terrible environmental
situation in Chelyabinsk — well, the situation
now
is bad, but from a bad situation
the authorities are trying to move toward an even worse
situation, for example by building that very
Tominsky mining and processing plant, which will pollute
the sources of drinking water for all of
Chelyabinsk. So at a minimum, we need
to start by not moving in the
direction of making things worse. Of course, we
must look at what is happening with
these Chelyabinsk factories, who owns
them, and I assure you that in nine
cases out of ten we will find a situation
where huge amounts of money from these
factories are being siphoned off to offshore accounts, and one
tenth of that money would be enough
to expand
the treatment facilities, to improve them
in a truly radical way. But they
don't need to do that. What is happening in
Krasnoyarsk is also happening in many
many other cities: there are these
various oligarchs
about whom we learn from newspapers that one
bought a yacht for 100 million euros, another bought
a yacht for 200 million euros, and at the same time
they say, "We can't spend 30
million dollars to build
new treatment facilities because
the economics of the enterprise don't allow it."
The economics of the enterprise do allow
it. Therefore, in the beautiful Russia
of the future, people will have the right
to file lawsuits against
enterprises for worsening the ecological
situation. In order to avoid these
lawsuits, enterprises will build
treatment facilities because that
will turn out to be cheaper than dealing with these
risks, and enterprises will insure
their workers, including against various
illnesses and deteriorating health.
I mean, this isn't rocket science — that's how it
works in many countries.
An enterprise and the oligarch who owns
the enterprise must understand that
investing in environmental
safety is more important for him than
buying a new yacht, because otherwise
residents, through their lawsuits, will
bankrupt him. That's roughly how I
see it.
A question — she asks me
this:
how would you comment on the situation where
Putin said that enterprises
must be ready to switch to a wartime
footing?
He really did say that, and there were many
comments on the subject.
It's just that Putin also said it like this: every
private enterprise must be ready for a transition
to a wartime footing, and there were many jokes — go
switch to any tracks yourself, lie down on them —
but still, I will defend Putin here.
A surprising situation. First of all, he
said it at one of the defense
meetings. Secondly, the overall context there
of the discussion was that the economy should
be ready for mobilization, so
he didn't say anything especially terrible. It's just that
overall, of course, the context is such
that right now our military-industrial complex and
the state have swallowed the entire economy, and
surely the first priority should be to care
about something else, not about whether
enterprises should be ready
to switch to a wartime footing — as it is, everything
is already running on those tracks anyway.
Ella Pamfilova and the Tatarstan referendum
I want to say a few words about this because
I still have a few minutes. This is
an extremely important situation where we legally
once again proved
better, in fact perhaps even better
than in other elections, that
We have shown just how heavily they are rigged,
elections in our country in general.
In Tatarstan, there is this thing called self-taxation,
or self-assessment. In fact, it exists in
several different republics; it’s just that in
Tatarstan the authorities are especially
fond of it. What does that mean? It means
that you are supposedly asked to decide for yourselves:
we need to repair the school roof, but there is no money
in the budget of our village, our
specific locality, so
come on, everyone, let’s all chip in a ruble (about $0.01) each.
And the state, as an incentive, for every
100 rubles we contribute, adds 4 more rubles,
and then we will have enough money
to repair the roof of that school.
Generally speaking, that sounds reasonable in
the Russian context, and especially in
the realities of Tatarstan, it sounds less
reasonable, because if we look at
the budget and at the people who
feed off that budget, we will see
that all this fuss around the referendum on
self-taxation amounts to just 2–3
percent of what is stolen outright.
If they simply stopped stealing that money,
there would be no need to hold such referendums.
But in any case, they hold these
referendums and make decisions
about what is effectively a new tax—sometimes 100
rubles, sometimes 1,000 rubles (about $1 to $10)—that we all have to
chip in to fix something. And
we at the Anti-Corruption Foundation, in our
headquarters, together with observers from Golos (an independent election-monitoring movement),
conducted a fairly simple experiment.
There were almost 900 such referendums in different
localities, and we sent
observers to several dozen
of these referendums. And it turned out that
everywhere our observers were present, those
referendums did not pass, and turnout there
was everywhere much lower than the officially announced
figures. The average turnout announced
by the republic’s election commission
was 66 percent. We measured it
and saw that at least 46 percent
of that turnout was simply fabricated. It went so far that
as you can see on the chart now, the red
line at the top is the official turnout
that was reported.
And the bars fall nowhere near
as you can see, 66
percent—that is where observers were present. And
at those polling stations where our
observers were, there was no falsification there,
there was no ballot stuffing—they were afraid
to do it, afraid of a scandal. Well,
the turnout was not there, and those referendums
failed almost everywhere as a result.
By the way, those people will not pay
the additional tax. But where
there were no observers, people will
pay a tax they did not
vote for.
This once again shows us very clearly
how made-up
all these figures are,
the ones the authorities use to intimidate us with as proof of their support.
They keep saying,
“Why are you fighting us? Look, we have
60 percent everywhere. Of course, not
only do we have falsifications, but
even without falsification we would still
beat you.” And my answer is: no, you would not.
Hold a vote without falsification, and then
we’ll see. And this situation in Tatarstan, I think, very clearly
demonstrates that. Now we are very
interested to see what our
friend Ella Pamfilova will do. She talks so much
about standing guard over fair
elections. She so loves talking about
how, for example, I should not be allowed to run in
elections because that supposedly contradicts
some non-existent law. But what happened
in Tatarstan, where
we did manage to get several
dozens of referendums canceled, but most of them,
the overwhelming majority, still went ahead
with falsified turnout—and
the mathematical probability of that—I was even sent calculations—
it was something
astronomically tiny, but they
gave one example: the probability
that in one and the same
villages, turnout at some polling stations would be 90 percent,
even reaching 100, while at other stations in that
very same village
turnout would be 20 percent—the probability of that
is like if right now, here,
a character from the film *Star Wars* suddenly appeared
and said to me, “Alexei, I am your
father.” In other words, it is impossible, impossible
for this to happen. And we very much want
the deceitful Ella Pamfilova, together with her
deceitful, utterly hypocritical
Central Election Commission,
to tell us something about this. Will she
recognize the results of these referendums
in Tatarstan,
or will she not? Or will she once again tell us
that perhaps
such a thing just happened, some kind of coincidence,
and mathematics is one thing, life is another?
After all, strange things can happen—
lightning struck some salty
water solution on Earth, and suddenly DNA began
twisting in a particular direction.
It happened, hallelujah—and in Tatarstan
roughly the same thing happened for the second time
in the history of the world.
We will formalize our complaints; we will send
complaints to the republic’s election commission
and then to the Central Election Commission.
And we are very, very interested to see, and
I urge all of you to watch closely
what these wonderful people from
the election apparatus will tell us.
If you have a plan to bring the ruble back to
to the old exchange rate, or do that
it would be impractical. Gosha, if I were to become
president and, by administrative means,
try to return the ruble to some previous rate, then we
would end up with a Soviet Union-style situation. Like,
just open any reference book and
you’ll find that formally the exchange rate was 60
kopeks per dollar — a dollar cost 60 kopeks. In
practice, there was a black market where the price was
completely different. After all, the exchange rate is something
that should be determined by
the economic situation, and bringing it back
administratively is not just
inadvisable — we would simply destroy our
economy.
Andryukha, by the way, that’s a great question.
Where is the promised Year of Ecology, where are the
trolleybuses, where are the trolleybuses with monthly passes?
The authorities, of course, would rather stay silent.
Can the trolleybuses be brought back?
Trolleybuses — in fact, when you’re on a plane,
you hear: “Ladies and gentlemen, dear
passengers, the Year of Ecology has been declared in Russia.”
So there you are — the Year of Ecology, clouds outside the window — it’s
just wonderful, it all lines up nicely.
But as for trolleybuses, yes,
Sobyanin deceived people. I remember there
was a situation where a rather silly group
of cheerful urbanists who actively
supported both Liksutov
and Sobyanin on various issues
said they were such very good
public figures. And then Sobyanin went and
deceived them, and Liksutov deceived them too, and here
well, what can I say except:
I told you, guys, I told you that
they are crooks and thieves.
If Sobyanin and Liksutov steal
money on procurement — for example, on metro carriages —
for the metro,
if they manipulate the traffic congestion data in
Moscow — and traffic jams in Moscow haven’t
gone anywhere — then you’re not going to get them to implement
normal projects. That’s not how it works.
They can’t be crooks over here
and over there normal people who
care about trolleybuses. That’s what you
were supporting.
But I’m not saying that Andryukha specifically
supported them — the one asking the question.
Sobyanin and Liksutov, but among other things
support for these characters led to the fact
that, without any significant
public outrage,
they wiped out the trolleybuses. Alexei, in Russia
more than 200 million
abortions have been performed. How do you feel about that?
Nikolai Lopatin asks me that.
This is a huge problem for our country. It is actually
an excellent illustration of the fact that all this
talk about Russia being very
conservative is a lie. Russia is not
that kind of country. Russia is a country where there are many
problems on this issue. Friends, I am absolutely
against banning abortion, because it would simply
lead to women having these
abortions tomorrow in illegal clinics, and
they will die. We’ve been through this many times
in different countries. There should rather be
a different approach to this problem, including
sex education, including
the distribution of contraceptives,
various means of contraception, sexual
education in general, working with children,
working with young people, and of course fighting
poverty. Why does a woman have an abortion?
Because she understands that she will never be able to
raise that child in Russian realities.
So this is a big, long-term
job. All right, I don’t want to end
on abortions. Let’s move on — it’s already 19... I’ve already
gone one minute over. Alexei, what will you
do if you are not allowed to run in
the election? And if you lose it?
That’s asked by Seryoga3000 — a frequently
asked question.
A great question to end
this episode with. If I lose this
election, whether in a fair or unfair contest,
then I will still continue fighting for
change in this country. Also, if I lose, then
there will be more corruption, there will be
more injustice, and the authorities will still
keep getting worse. So I
will continue my work anyway. I
don’t know in what capacity, whether I will have
more people supporting me or whether they will
support me less, but I will continue.
What will I do if I am not
allowed into this election? Well, guys, then
the question is for you personally. I will not recognize these elections
if I am not allowed to take part in them. I
will call on all of you to boycott
these elections, because they will not be real elections.
And I hope that you will support me
in this and say to the authorities:
guys, we will not let you decide for us who
our candidate should be. We will not
allow you to put forward some
figure and say, “Here you go,
this is the opposition, vote for him.” If we
agree to that once — but we already did
agree to it once, when there was the situation
with Prokhorov (Mikhail Prokhorov, businessman and former presidential candidate) — then they will keep moving
along those same tracks, and
that’s exactly what they’re doing. But it seems to me they don’t realize
that those tracks lead us only into a dead end.
Thank you very much for listening. This has been my
program. I’ll be in Perm,
Vladimir, Nizhny Novgorod, and
Chelyabinsk this weekend — come to the
meetings.
And until next Thursday on the
Navalny LIVE channel — bye.
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