[music]
Hello everyone. In Moscow, it's 8:18 p.m., which means
it's time for the Navalny Live studio. I'm Alexei
Navalny, here to answer
your questions and discuss with you
the important things that happened this
week. Please write to me on Twitter
right on Twitter with the hashtag #Navalny2018
and I'll try to catch your
messages.
your questions and answer them, though
as best I can. And to begin, of course, I want
to start with Vladimir Rudolfovich
Solovyov.
I know many of you have been waiting for this. We got a lot
of messages saying,
do something about this wonderful man,
write something about him, show
his finest moments. We tried to do that. Today
we released a video. I'm not sure how many
of you have watched it yet. If you haven't,
please do, and help us
spread it around, because it's
very important. Right now, at the start of the
program, I wanted to briefly discuss
whether you feel that his money is your
money. And on that note, right now,
I'm going to launch a poll on Twitter. I
prepared it before going on air and was sitting here
just waiting to press the button. Now I'll press
the button—let's see whether it works or not.
This time, on my Twitter, we'll be doing
a poll. I can see it's up. Plus, we can
vote on VKontakte (Russia's social network) as well.
The story about Solovyov is, of course,
obviously, by now a familiar one: it's a story
of monstrous, truly monstrous hypocrisy. But
this man really does constantly
without the slightest embarrassment take
the exact opposite position
literally within the span of a month.
He obtained Italian residency. We
understand that he mostly lives in
Italy, or at least lives there most of the time. In any
case, on official paperwork he wrote
that he asked the local municipality
to record that he is a resident of this
Italian town and
that he considers it his primary
place of residence. At the same time, he comes here,
earns money here,
praises the authorities here, and here he does
everything he can to make our lives worse. But
what's interesting is that they took a
comment from him.
I think it was RBC (a Russian business media outlet), and he said
something absolutely astonishing: well, what's
the problem? I'm rich. That was such a
great, universal, probably
comment—one that many of
them could probably use. Peskov, tell us
please, where did you get this yacht from? What's
the problem? I'm rich. Tell us, please,
Shuvalov, how is it that you fly your dogs on a private
jet? What don't you like about it? I'm rich.
It sounded so slick, but
also very cynical. Though you can
compare him to them: some of them make
tens of millions of dollars. But overall
his income is comparable to theirs, except they work
in a huge market, in a country with a gigantic
population and an enormous advertising
market. Russia is a much poorer
country. If we compare Solovyov's income
to the incomes of TV hosts in countries where they honestly
earn their money, in countries with a comparable
TV market size,
comparable populations, European
countries of some kind, we'll see that this
man is simply swimming in
money, even by the standards of a normal,
honest, successful TV host. He
earns far more than he
should. So I absolutely believe that
the income
Solovyov receives is all corrupt income. And the separate episode with
his
apartment, which the Moscow city government
essentially gifted him—gifted, that is, by selling it
to him at five times below market price—
that's a textbook case of corruption. For
that alone, they should all be jailed.
That's causing damage on an especially large
scale to the Moscow city budget, because
if something is worth one ruble
and you sell it—and you're a government
official—and you sell something worth one ruble
to someone for one kopeck, that means you've
caused 99 kopecks in damages, right? That's exactly
what happened with him. That's precisely why,
by the way, notice that he hasn't
really commented much
on what's happening around him, at least
so far. He's saying everything very, very
calmly. But by the way, I'm looking at the
poll, which has only just started, and
my point of view is not
super overwhelming: 63 percent
of people think that Solovyov's income is
money from their own pockets. 37 percent of people
think it isn't. But then I have
a question for that 37 percent: where
do you think that money came from? I mean,
it didn't just appear out of thin air. Where
does the money for Rossiya 24 come from? It
comes from the Russian state budget,
from your pocket, because
Rossiya 24
is a completely loss-making
enterprise. And Solovyov, as far as
the press reports, signs some very
strange and highly suspicious
contracts with Sberbank (Russia's largest state-owned bank),
and he himself—I mean, how else can you put it—
is very dubious. I'm very sorry that
German Gref is involved in all this,
but we understand that in this way they could
simply be supporting him—financing him, really.
Sberbank was saddled with the obligation to provide
money to maintain, essentially,
all these splendid
dachas (country houses) and buildings that you can see now
on the screen. So where did Sberbank get it from?
It’s a state-owned bank. The money
paid out to Solovyov has effectively recently become
dividends the state did not receive, in a way
in the background. So please
help us spread this
far and wide. People need to know who those
liars sitting on television really are.
I can see that the results aren’t changing much
in our poll: 64 percent
believe that Solovyov’s money, his income,
is money taken from your pocket. Thirty-six
percent say no, that this money
came
from somewhere else. But perhaps Vladimir
Rudolfovich
will tell us where it came from. So far he’s
very uncharacteristically for himself
commenting on all this. Usually, after all, he
would already have called the entire Russian internet scum and lowlifes by now,
but for now he’s simply
banning everyone, blocking people, and not answering
questions. He only muttered one phrase: “I’m
rich.” But I don’t think he’ll hold out.
He’ll comment, he’ll tell us everything
he thinks about our investigation. It will be
quite interesting to watch. As for what
I’m doing now and our other affairs — I’m
heading out to the regions now.
It’s fairly difficult, I’ll be honest,
quite exhausting, but it’s simply
wonderful. Our calculation proved correct.
To be honest, it was a rather bold idea
we had: that we would now
travel from city to city, and not just
hold small meetings with
voters indoors, but actual
rallies. A rally is a risky thing:
you gather people outdoors, and no one may
show up, and then they’ll say, well,
some presidential candidate you are — nobody
came to see you. But I can tell you honestly
that what is happening now — forgive
my saying so — is such an important thing,
it has exceeded our expectations. We did not
expect that so many people would come.
For us, a perfectly
normal, honest goal was 400 people.
A good rally — really a good
rally — 400 people at a meeting with
voters is a lot. That’s about as many
as presidential candidates
in the United States get at campaign events
during the primary stage — even fewer sometimes. Well, 150
people is less, of course, but we were prepared
for a small turnout. For us, it was a huge
surprise that people
are coming. And of course for the authorities this became
an absolute nightmare, and we can see that now
basically the entire regional agenda
of local administrations is aimed at
simply denying us the chance
to hold such meetings, because they
make an impression on people, they
make an impression on officials, they
make an impression on the police.
They stand there and say, “My God, it seems like
who, then, actually supports this
government, if here at this rally, as happened
in Khabarovsk and Vladivostok,
where our venues were very far from the center,
very inconveniently located,
thousands of people still came?” These same
police officers also guard the rallies
held by the governor’s administration, and they
understand that this here was a real
rally, while that over there was fake. If that many
people came to a real rally, then
it turns out nobody supports the authorities.
That’s terrible for them; they suffer because of it.
And we are seeing very practical
consequences. Please show the two
images.
This is how many approvals we used to get
for our rallies just a couple of weeks ago.
As you can see, red marks places where there were
refusals; yellow means bad venues;
green means something more or less
acceptable; and a few
dark-green cells show places where there was
something actually normal — decent venues.
Now show what it looks like now.
Please — it’s red. In other words, everywhere there are simply
flat-out refusals, refusals, refusals.
That was last week. And if we showed you
the following week, our applications wouldn’t even
be worth showing, because it would be
like a Malevich painting called
“Red Square,” because nowhere and for nothing are we
getting anything but constant, nonstop
refusals.
And in the most exotic forms, too. For example,
in Nizhny Novgorod, on Friday
evening I’ll be speaking in Nizhny
Novgorod. There are supposedly no problems at all, and
yet they keep doing this thing all the time:
they don’t issue formal refusals, they don’t give formal approval either.
Publicly, they interpret it as though
the rally is banned. But when you go to
court, they say, “Good heavens, folks,
we were simply waiting with our signs
standing around the corner to join
your rally, but for some reason you never came.”
Quite something, isn’t it? That’s how it works.
Please show the response from Perm — it’s
simply marvelous. Take a look at it now.
In Perm,
they literally wrote it out directly like this:
“This means that, judging by the fact that
what you have going on is, in fact,
a planned meeting with Alexei Navalny,”
and since a meeting with Alexei Navalny is not
a constitutional event, therefore you are
prohibited. That’s it.”
I just want to say to the administration as well
of the city of Perm—Perm, as they like to pronounce it—
to Perm itself and to Mr. Reshetnikov
the new governor of Perm Krai, that
we regard this kind of refusal as
approval, because you should have
provided an alternative venue or
written something coherent
so we will simply come and hold
our rally, because, well, this is just
nonsense, what is written there—they understand
that in court, even in today’s
Russian court, they would lose with such a
trick like that. So acting this way
that is why we regard all of this as
approval, and we will press for
what is ours. We already have some experience
of holding these rallies; we have held them in
different cities under different conditions
but all these rallies were united by
one thing: they took place with
excellent public order, so
we have proved to everyone that ours are excellent
wonderful peaceful rallies whose
real purpose is for me to tell people something
for them to ask me questions, get my
answers, disperse, shake hands—everything is fine
therefore we have every right to hold
such events, and we will continue to hold them. We
of course now have
an interesting situation in St. Petersburg
where it is very important for us to hold a rally
of course, there are many supporters there
a wonderful city with democratic
traditions
you have probably seen my video where I
said: guys, for weeks and weeks
for many weeks, in good faith,
we submit applications to you, and you keep sending us
to the middle of nowhere
so, on October 7
either you approve a perfectly acceptable
Marsovo Pole (Field of Mars), where there actually was
a Hyde Park-style free speech area. To deny the obvious—Solovyov
is a talented journalist and not a third-rate one
or will you say that this is your personal
opinion, while the fact that he is a paid
propagandist is certainly my
personal opinion—that he is, after all, a third-
rate journalist, in my personal opinion
and it is based on the fact that, well, I have lived
I am 41 years old, and I saw NTV in the old days
I saw a great number
of different talk shows, back in the days when
Yevgeny Kiselyov was there
Savik Shuster, Svetlana Sorokina, and all
the others who
there were many of them—who were later fired or forced out
some of whom were driven out of the country
some of whom were forbidden to practice their
profession because, well, they did not agree
to do what Solovyov does. In those
days he was among the baggage of third-rate
journalists—he was a third-rate
journalist, and now he is everywhere
on all channels, the main kind of host
solely because there is no
competition, because only he
is entrusted to say these things and do
what he does. Not many are willing to
well, listen, probably if we compare him
with those who are there now
some kind of—I know them well
I know Kiselyov, and on Channel One
there are just some hellish
crazy people hosting things. Probably, if
you compare him with them
then Solovyov, although he can joke and
he has some of his own little tricks
all sorts of theatrical effects that matter for a
host, but that does not make him any less
of a third-rate journalist, because compared
with real journalists
who were driven out—well, of course
he is third-rate, and that is what I think. I am not saying
this because I want to additionally
insult someone weak—no, it is just simply
a normal assessment. So, we are having problems with
the internet. They are writing that I should
apologize to you—for what, for
some delays or what?
oh, how awful, I see that right now
7,000 people are watching us—probably some kind of
jerky feed. Sorry, please
here I am going on and on, trying
to joke and say various things, and you
maybe cannot hear me, or hear me as
some kind of clown (Petrushka, a traditional Russian puppet clown)
but right now we are trying to sort out
the internet. I do not know what is happening to us here
on Channel One—or maybe some kind of scheming
scheming by Vladimir Solovyov, who came and chewed through
the cable here, and that is why
he is silent on Twitter too, because he came
here, sneaked in, put on some kind of wig
and chewed through the cable. So, Grif, he
writes: Alexei, on To Reach, congratulate
me—I managed to persuade my own uncle
my uncle, a lieutenant colonel at a military unit in the city of
Kirov; the unit number is here. I managed
to do it after three years. Now 70
percent of the unit is for you. Grifon, you are
absolutely fantastic, and that is great
it shows that methods of persuasion still
work. People can be
as stubborn as you like
and call black white, but if you
spend some time to actually
explain things, it is impossible to deny many
facts—well, they simply exist, like
that Italian villa of Slava (likely referring to Solovyov)
it simply exists; there are the Rotenbergs (powerful Russian oligarch brothers) and bad
roads out there on the streets—they simply exist
therefore you need to work with people and you need
to
to explain things to them. So, let me finish
the topic of my trips—please show
the card. I will be there on Friday evening at 18:00
o'clock in Nizhny Novgorod, in Orenburg
I will be there on September 30 at 12:00 in
Arkhangelsk. I will be there on Sunday, the 1st
of October, at 6:00 p.m. in Arkhangelsk. It's very
interesting there: the local administration
has organized a fireworks display so that, basically, no one
would come to our rally, to distract
people. For the first time in the history of
Arkhangelsk, they have arranged a fireworks
competition and are holding it at 5:00 p.m., that is
during daylight hours. They are holding
a fireworks display. You'd think they'd even manage to ruin the fireworks
with this stupidity of theirs. But anyway, they felt they needed
to put on something, so please
come. It is very important to us that you
show up, and it is very important for the authorities that you
show them that people do come, they do come
to rallies like this.
Tell us about the police officer who was hit by
an FSB car. I have a quick one here
— Gonzalez writes. I will talk about that.
How do you plan to defend the ruling you received
from the ECHR? Well, that's exactly how I plan to do it. I
am already doing it. I received a ruling from a whole bunch of
bodies; the Council of Europe also said that the decision has not
been implemented and that I must be allowed to take part in
the election. So I travel around the regions, climb up
onto the stage, and from the stage—and in delightful
discussions on Facebook.
No, I don't want to engage in delightful
discussions. I want—if I have a couple of hours—to
play and do this Twitch stream. Why?
Because, first of all, I want to support
esports. Second, I think it is
perfectly normal when young people take part in
games, and children take part in games and play
because it develops them, it
introduces them to technology in some way. It is
a useful thing. We'll raise some money there too, yes,
but many people treat it ironically.
On Twitch, people raise a lot of
so-called donations, yes.
Well, some people will laugh at that, and to that
I say: fine, but at least I am honestly
earning money. If they have cut off all
the other avenues for us, then fine: I play, people watch,
they send me 100 rubles each (about $1) so that you
know where the money for
financing the election campaign comes from.
And Tovar Chernenko asks: I hope for
Twitch they choose a proper game and not
some kind of dictator simulator. Well, I don't
know, maybe there is such a game—
a dictator simulator. I won't
play it. I'm not a dictator; leader worship is not
my thing. PlayerUnknown's
Battlegrounds—I hope I didn't say
something stupid or get the name wrong, so that people don't
laugh at me. But anyway, there are a lot
of questions about Twitch and all sorts of things related to it.
I really appreciate it, and
and... UE4, but for someone who has played before, it will be
the hardest and the easiest at the same time.
Guys, I don't even know what that means, and
for now I find it hard to answer. I will try
to figure all of this out. It will be my
first experience, so just come
and, if nothing else, have a laugh at me as I
play this game and
stream it all on Twitch. Alexander
Vladislav Ander asks:
Please comment on the phenomenon
of German Gref. How do you feel about his
personality, his position that the masses
cannot be trusted with decision-making, with the right
to choose? Well, that is already a rather old
statement by German Gref. It seems to me
he said that more than a year ago. As for Gref himself,
I am rather sympathetic to him, but
at least at Sberbank there is a very
problematic organization, and despite all the
enormous, enormous problems,
screwups, and everything else, he tries
to do things.
A lot of things. I have even sued it, by the way,
as a Sberbank shareholder, and I criticize
him constantly. So in that sense I
criticize him a lot. But if we compare
him with other banks like VTB, or with other
state companies like Rosneft, it's like night
and day. But Gref's statement is
absolutely, of course, unacceptable, and it
perfectly shows it: he simply expressed what people in
the Kremlin think. They really do think that way. I mean,
how could we possibly entrust these
people with anything? Look out the window,
look at them.
How could we entrust decision-making to
people like that? No, of course not.
They really do think that way, and Gref
really thinks so too: that they
are some kind of privileged caste, that they are
Russia's elite managers, that the whole country rests
on them, while these people
walking around in the streets should simply
listen.
They really do think that way. Gref
just said it
out loud for everyone. It is absolutely unacceptable, and
that is why this government
cannot be supported.
They quite seriously regard everyone
as nobodies,
while seeing themselves as some kind of great, great
people. The governors' resignations—let's
discuss that. On the one hand, these are the most important
political events of the past week; on the
other hand, it was amusing to watch how
people nobody knows—except perhaps
the residents of their own region—are replaced by
other people nobody knows, and
all of this is presented as: my God, Putin has replaced
the governors, how important. Some
unknown no-names are being replaced by other
no-names. And why is this
happening? I have my own answer to that
question, which has just
sort of taken shape based on my trips to
in the region, based on how I talk to people
in conversation, I feel that they, that they
think, and what they don’t want. Everyone is really, really
fed up with this incomprehensible non-happening
of nothing. And before the election, there’s this kind of
demand, like: do something for us
it’s very bad, we’re poor, so do something
to improve our lives, do at least something
it’s all just some kind of, well, simply some kind of horror
going on. And what is it they can’t do?
They can raise the minimum wage
No? They can return the stolen
pension savings. No? They can boost the economy
No? They can start by repairing the roads
No? It’s not true that they can’t do anything
except maybe some personnel changes. It would be better
if they made those personnel changes
in the government, and the whole population wants that
and dreams of simply sending
our Dmitry Anatolyevich
Medvedev into retirement
and Dimon (a nickname for Dmitry Medvedev), but that’s difficult
Changing ministers is hard; Putin is used to them
they’ve been sitting there for so long, and
but governors are actually the
weakest link in the whole system
of executive power, so now they’re
getting rid of governors more often. I just
understand it that way, based on polling and
and the coolest thing, from my point of view
the most interesting thing about all these resignations
please show the table of how much
support the ousted governors got in
elections recently
or rather, in their last elections. Just look
look: Merkushkin got 91 percent, well, two
of them were sort of appointed by parliaments
in Dagestan there’s a different system. Shantsev got 86
percent, 60, 376
So it turns out, my friends, that
they sent into resignation, just like that, all at once
with a snap of the fingers, the most popular
politicians in the country, no less. There you go
there you have it. Good Lord, in Samara everyone was supposedly
voting for him
and before that, in Mordovia
an insane number of people voted for
Merkushkin. For Shantsev, 86
percent — so that means the whole
Nizhny Novgorod Region was practically ready to
throw itself in front of bullets for him. And what does it turn out? It turns out
they were removed, and there was complete silence
I’m not even talking about some kind of
protest rallies, I’m not talking about
protest rallies — but at least maybe some
press reaction? Just yesterday that
press was gushing about what a uniquely
brilliant politician Valery Pavlinovich Shantsev was
how he was the very best, the very best
the one and only, and the same thing
with Merkushkin, and all of them — exactly the same
they were removed, and nobody even noticed
nobody cares, and no one is interested in
91 percent or 86 percent
it means nothing. It turned out
it turned out that it means absolutely nothing
at all
and it’ll be the same with Putin, and with Putin
it’ll be the same — all these percentages
mean nothing; politically, his
cocoon... Look, they’ve just replaced him now, and
basically, if there really had been
popular love — 91 percent
of popular love — and yet, bang
they replaced this Merkushkin with some
Dmitry Azarov, and in Samara Region
still
good Lord, who is Dmitry Azarov anyway?
Why Dmitry Azarov? Right now we have this
popular joke that they replaced the governors
and picked new candidates because
they all look alike
there are really a lot of people there, but they just
look so much alike. This photo
was very popular on the internet, that they
apparently, with the new iPhone
could unlock each other’s phones
because of the face ID thing, and
these two are like identical magic helpers (a reference to a Russian fairy-tale pair)
nobody knows them. Gleb Nikitin, who
is going to be appointed in Nizhny Novgorod Region
I know him; I think I even
sued him once, because he sat on
the boards of directors of all those companies and
covered up the corruption that was going on there
while representing the interests of the state. In other words
this is actually a man who for many
years worked with corrupt officials and did
everything to make life comfortable for them. But
who in Nizhny Novgorod Region even knows
what he looks like? Nobody. And yet they removed
the popularly elected, beloved
Shantsev and replaced him with just some guy in
glasses. And what happened? Nothing. That’s exactly what
shows that all these ratings, all these
talk about support for the authorities
just — simply stop
repeating it, stop listening to it. It doesn’t
mean absolutely anything. Interestingly, you know
I saw this in
Krasnoyarsk Krai
there, the owner of an independent
TV station, Vadim Vostrov, he
wrote a very apt and interesting post
with which I’ll wrap up the topic of governors — about
Tolokonsky, who has also just been removed
and people are asking why Tolokonsky was removed
whether because of his age, since he had reached
retirement age, or for some other reason, and
he asks the right question: it’s not even
about why he was removed, but why on earth
he was appointed three years ago in the first place, because
three years ago everyone knew that he had reached
retirement age, that this was a governor
who came from Novosibirsk to
Krasnoyarsk — and in Krasnoyarsk, of course, they don’t like anyone who
comes from Novosibirsk
everyone, everyone knew about him that he was some kind of
A strange person, not popular, and yet
for some unclear reason he was appointed three
years ago, and now for some equally unclear reason he has been
removed. And this perfectly illustrates, in general,
the entire personnel policy in the country. It
makes you want to rewind a little and look back.
The restream is delayed; I don't really understand
whether anything can be done about it. I’d suggest, well,
sorry, probably when all of this
is available as a recording, it will all be easier.
So, I was written to while answering questions.
Svetlana Trofim: “Are you replacing Putin with plague or
cholera? He’s incapable of anything,” roughly speaking.
That’s basically true, but “plague for cholera”
is really just swapping one bad thing for another.
They really are incapable of anything.
Of course, they would be happy to pull off some
great stunt that would help before the
election, so everyone would say, “Putin, well done,”
“just look what he’s done.” But there is no such thing.
They can’t do it. “The Motherland”
has been working overtime producing Putin — well, yes,
it does seem that way.
Zhenya Morozov: “Alexei, tell us, can Russia’s regions
get honest, lawful
economic development if you are
elected president?”
“Please answer with the regions in mind.” Zhenya
Morozov, my dear regions — I answer this
at every meeting. In fact, this is
one of the main, perhaps the main, goals
of the election campaign, because it is also
the goal of my presidency in general — or rather,
my desire to come to power — because there cannot be
any
economic development of the country without
the development of the regions. In fact,
the country’s economic development
is exactly that kind of thing.
“Development of the regions” sounds absurd,
and only in Russia does such a concept even exist:
the “development of the regions.”
What else could possibly develop, then? Because
you simply have a gigantic Moscow
and the rest are regions that are simply of no use
to anyone. But that doesn’t work; it never
will work that way. Russia will not
develop unless Krasnoyarsk, Voronezh, Nizhny Novgorod, or
Tula are developing too — unless they are thriving.
Tula.
Because that is the only way it works: when
cities grow richer, people in the regions grow richer,
someone’s salary goes up — that is
economic growth. And that is the kind of
economic growth I will pursue.
And the most important point here is to give the regions
independence — financial
and tax independence, along with various other
powers — because when we look at
developed federal states, we see
a clear pattern: where the money
and the powers are, development happens there.
Where there are no powers, everything has died.
Well, in Russia it has been dying for the last 18 years.
Alexei. Alexander Kazakov: “Alexei,”
“good evening. Domestic flights in our country — yes, in
our country domestic air travel is expensive. What
will you do when you become
president? It’s simply unrealistic
to travel across the whole country.” Alex
Kazakov, you’ve hit the nail right on the
head — right in the heart of the matter.
If Volkov were sitting here, the one who
handles the campaign headquarters’ finances,
he would have leapt up right now in
ecstasy and shouted, “Yes, yes, yes!” But we do fly,
and first of all, look at
the itineraries of our trips — they look like
exotic routes, because going from
Murmansk to Yekaterinburg and all that sort of thing
all goes through Moscow.
Because in Russia it is impossible
to get around: tickets in Russia are very
expensive.
Between a huge number of cities, from one
city to another, you can’t get there even in
a full day. It’s monstrous, absolutely monstrous. It is
simply a gigantic barrier to the
country’s development.
If I become president, we will abolish — we will
introduce an open-skies policy. That is,
everyone will be able to fly.
We will eliminate monopolies and begin
fighting monopolism both in the market for
airports and airport services, and of course
in the airline market as well. In all
countries there are low-cost carriers. Right now, throughout the
world, the air travel market is developing —
sometimes faster, sometimes slower, sometimes
tourism grows more.
Sometimes it falls into crisis, but even so,
in the United States you can still fly from
almost any city to any other city fairly
quickly. And in Russia, with a market of 150
million people — smaller than the American one,
but still large enough —
it is certainly big enough for
airlines to develop very successfully here,
to compete, to lower prices, for prices to be at
the level of famous low-cost carriers, where if you
book a ticket in advance, you might
buy a ticket for $20 and fly
from one part of Europe to another part of
Europe. And we will introduce that in Russia too, and it is clear
how to do it. A police officer has been hit —
let’s watch the video. It’s horrifying,
of course, but let’s watch it anyway.
Here we can see it; now we will see on
it Novy Arbat (a major avenue in central Moscow).
A traffic jam, and there is this car, and it simply
runs over a traffic police officer, killing him, and this is of course
undoubtedly a crime — yes, a crime
through negligence, of course. But I am far from
thinking that an FSB car (Federal Security Service) deliberately
ran down this traffic officer. But what
has been happening around this
is truly monstrous.
It really shows just how much even those very...
So the police are not protected—meaning the FSB (Russia’s Federal Security Service)...
at some enormous speed, apparently.
The only thing missing is an oprichnik’s (Ivan the Terrible’s enforcer) wolf’s
head on the hood. They hit a person, and after that
what happens? Once again, this whole
license-plate removal.
Covering for them—and which garage does
this car belong to? Come on, what are you hiding, and from whom
are you hiding it? What is so secret here? Good grief.
So, apparently, some warrant officers were...
driving someone somewhere, they were speeding,
they ran over a traffic cop—but hold them
accountable. Let them apologize, then.
Let the FSB fire the head of the garage.
Why do we need all this filth and nastiness,
with the license plates being removed, with this
endless lying, with the ignoring
of this whole issue?
Today, Minister Kolokoltsev said that
he hopes this incident
will be reviewed fairly. “Hopes”?
He’s the Minister of Internal Affairs. And he also added this
interesting thing, like, well, of course,
all
high-profile traffic accidents have been
investigated fairly.
So this one, too, will be investigated
fairly. Seriously? Fairly?
Was it investigated fairly? Do you remember the Mercedes 666 case,
that Lukoil Mercedes
that got into a crash on Leninsky Prospekt (a major avenue in Moscow),
when in the end they blamed the young woman who died,
saying she had caused the accident, even though everyone
could see from the diagrams that this was not true? And all
the other crashes, all the other flashing lights—and
in cases when
because of these flashing beacons, even ambulances—has there ever
been even one case investigated properly? Even once, when
someone was held administratively responsible?
No. So now all of this is being done again
under the table. It’s disgusting.
It shows that, well, even—even
a police officer, even a traffic cop on New Arbat
and some kind of special-unit officer
from a special battalion and all that—
supposedly part of this regime’s nomenklatura (privileged official class),
but your protection is zero when someone drives over you.
That’s it.
Those above you? Zero protection, zero
chance of getting justice, at least
for your relatives—zero chance even
of hearing even some kind of respectful
word said. You can’t imagine the horror
his relatives, his colleagues,
his fellow officers are in as they watch all this. The whole
night, it’s like he was just a bug—crushed, run over,
and then they spun it and moved on. In the press—
silence. No conclusions have been drawn from any of this.
No one is even trying to limit,
for example, the number of flashing beacons. No one
asks the question: why were they even going anywhere
at night? Was there a terrorist attack there?
Had a war broken out? Did you really need to drive
with the beacon on? A flashing beacon should be used only in
exceptional cases. It’s obvious they were
just bypassing traffic, even though now they say
no one was in that car, and probably
it will be hard for us to learn the truth about it.
We assume some boss was in a hurry,
using it to get around traffic. They ran over
a person, and everything is supposedly fine—and tomorrow they’ll run over
someone else. This was a police officer; if it had been
an ordinary civilian, someone would have said, “My God,”
“well, nobody was lying there, he was crossing the street
wrong,” and that would be it—they crushed him.
This is an absolutely monstrous thing that
shows that no one can
count on justice—not even
the police. Behind you, supposedly, there stands
some kind of police corporation; you’re not
just an ordinary citizen. But justice? Zero.
You’re a bug to them, a bug to these
people who can, right now, drive here
with flashing lights. I very much hope that
there will be some kind of investigation, that we’ll be told
who did this, and that conclusions will be drawn from it—
both legal and
political ones, including someone resigning,
the number of flashing beacons being reduced,
and other similar measures
that ought to happen. Now, questions.
Alexei, so, economic development...
Ilya asks: it’s strange, why is there no
mug in the store? I want your okroshka (a cold soup) mug.
I think we do have mugs in the store, but
I’m being told that we’re introducing them gradually.
For us, it’s fairly complicated
production, because we make everything in Russia,
and that’s why the mugs haven’t appeared yet,
but they will appear. So
please come to our
store a little later, and, and...
[music]
buy a mug. Let me see the poll.
Has anything changed on Solovyov’s poll, or not?
No? Come on, come on, Twitter, load.
Load, load... 67 percent
believe that Vladimir
Solovyov’s income comes from our pockets; 33
percent say no, not from our pockets. Cannibals—
let’s talk about cannibals. I can’t
pass over this topic, because, listen,
what should happen in
a normal country where there is
a normal press and normal authorities, if
the fact is being concealed that in a town in
Kuban (a region in southern Russia), there was a family that
ate people, that killed people.
There are different reports, and at that point there were two proven
victims, while the entire press was writing that they had killed 30 people,
eaten them, made pirozhki (stuffed buns) out of them, and
all sorts of other things. It sounds like some kind of
bad 1970s horror movie,
but it’s the plain truth. And they caught these
cannibals solely because
the—what do you call him—the chief cannibal, I guess,
[music]
had photographed the bodies of his victims and left...
This phone, the phone, wasn’t password-protected, no.
Some
migrant worker opened the settings on the phone.
He saw it and, fortunately—fortunately, thank God—
he turned out to be such a decent, decent person.
He didn’t just slip it into his pocket,
he gave the phone to the person who came looking for it
and called the police, and only after that
did all of this come out, and it was like in that
remember the film *The Diamond Arm* (a famous Soviet comedy)?
There was a very good line, a running joke,
and it was: “This building is fighting for”
“the title of a house of high everyday culture” (a Soviet-era phrase mocking pretensions to refinement). And against
the backdrop of all this, we still claim that
Russia is somehow such a spiritual country. Just
think about it—you should be losing your
minds over this. Television, radio, all the newspapers should
be running reports, writing books about how this
could have happened, what our society has come to
that in Kuban (a region in southern Russia), someone was eating people and making
pies out of them. Thirty people were killed. This
wasn’t just one maniac—a whole family was involved in it.
We don’t know how many people were
involved. The police weren’t looking for the missing
victims. Basically there was no—well, there was no
notice posted across Krasnodar Krai (a region in southern Russia):
“Attention,”
“we are looking for a serial killer.” None of that happened.
They found this person by accident. Well yes, so what?
My God, and we don’t even see any kind of
public outcry. My God, in Kuban
there’s a cannibal. Well, okay, it’s Kuban—there are even
the Tsapki there (a notorious criminal gang), so fine, what a miracle, they ate
a couple of people—thirty people were eaten, well
yes, let’s keep thinking about our spirituality. In
Krasnodar, these people come running into our headquarters,
the so-called “Putin grandmas,” who
are the ones shouting, “What do you mean, you’re undermining our
our spirituality, our
stability, you’re destroying it
with your gay, European-style
ways, while everything is fine here, we
don’t need to change anything.” Well, there you have it,
everything’s fine—cannibals are living among you here.
Do you understand? In the 21st century, the police do not
investigate this, and when all of it comes out, it
ends up as the third item in the news, in the
incidents section.
Instead of getting simply
emotional coverage—but in order
to actually understand what kind of
enormous
problems there are in the country, if this
happened. It’s a failure of the law enforcement
system, a failure of the education system, well,
apparently a failure of the system for treating
people with mental illness, and then a failure
of the system for finding missing people. That’s what led
to a situation where we are discussing how
we had a cannibal in this country—a cannibal
was caught recently.
Good thing he was caught thanks to
a migrant worker. You see, that’s our spirituality.
The leader of a Christian state, whom
we discussed on the previous
program,
turned out to be a murderer who killed his
neighbor in order to steal
money from her together with some drug addicts.
And then there’s the cannibal too. Great, just great.
Here we are, building spirituality. And again,
coming back to our topic—so, who is
to blame for all this? Vladimir Solovyov.
But Vladimir Solovyov as a generalized, common-name figure,
Vladimir Solovyov who refuses to talk about
problems, who lies about how everything is
fine here, leads to things like this
happening, because when you ignore
problems, they grow—and among other things
it reaches these monstrous
forms. I was at Zaryadye Park
with my wife; we went to Zaryadye Park.
And since we still have a little time, I wanted
to share my impressions with you, although
right now, our—what—10,000
people are watching online, well
probably around 400,000
people will watch this episode as usual. I mean,
even if you live in Moscow, most of you
haven’t been to Zaryadye Park, but I kind of want
to share it with everyone, because 14
billion rubles (about US$240 million at the time) were spent on this park—one of
the most expensive parks in the world, and by a wide
margin the most expensive park in Russia. You
all—we all—
I included, paid for it. I
went to take a look. You all know how I feel
about Moscow City Hall, how I feel about Sobyanin,
how I feel about expensive parks, so
basically everyone expects that I’ll
come and trash the whole thing. So if I say,
“Alexei, come on, give Zaryadye Park a fair shot,”
and honestly say what you liked there—
it’s been praised a lot, so just honestly praise
what you liked, and
and try not to nitpick too much
about what you didn’t like”—so I
can say right away that I really
liked that there is a park there at all. There used to be
an ugly, nightmarish hotel there.
Show me a single, a single
photograph—a good photograph—that
I liked. All the photos, by the way,
I took myself—please take a look.
The sunset was beautiful; I photographed it on
my phone. Brilliant. It’s really great that
there is a park there. At last, a place has appeared
in the city of Moscow where you can
sit on a bench, take, I don’t know,
a sandwich out of your pocket and a carton of
kefir, and chew away while looking out at
the Kremlin. That’s great. There wasn’t a place like that before.
It’s an amazing thing that they
demolished the hotel there and made a park. Everything
else—if you haven’t been to Zaryadye Park,
you know what to do? Go to your grandmother’s dacha
(country house).
It’s exactly the same thing, just with a park sign on it.
Zaryadye
not even at your grandmother's dacha (country cottage)
there's a sewer manhole, just like this one
and they call that landscape design—where is it in this
photo I took? You can see some kind of
grass like at your grandmother's dacha, scraggly
little trees like at your grandmother's dacha, and
they tell me this is landscape design
all this cost 400 rubles there
there are sewer manholes all over the
park, and there are also some other
things like these—they're ventilation
I mean, these metal boxes
painted over like this with oil paint
it looks bizarre, and again, among grass like
at your grandmother's dacha—what was it they brought from
Germany, some kind of super-sprouts that
were supposedly stolen later—who would even want to steal all that
steal it? So here, this means
like this stone composition, and in it
also
there are some monstrous, monstrous
utility boxes sticking out—I don't even know what to call them
painted green, and
and this Zaryadye Park is basically this
hexagonal paving tile you see here
sewer manholes and grass that
looks like the grass by your grandmother's house
what landscape design? What 14
billion rubles? I walked around there
looking around—sure, you can see the Kremlin very
beautifully, but come closer and again, at
your grandmother's dacha, the greenhouse that
your neighbor Uncle Petya welded together for three bottles of vodka
and you'll see there these
metal structures—take this picture away
I can't look at it—these kinds of
metal structures welded together like this
just like some 55-year-old uncle welded them somewhere
and here all of this was done in that same way
maybe I'm not much of a specialist in
this, sure, but I can see it with my own eyes, and
it looks like the greenhouse at my
dacha that my dad built, and excuse me
but that greenhouse doesn't cost 14 billion
rubles, and it doesn't cost 1 billion rubles either, and
it doesn't cost a million rubles either, and this is
what the whole of Zaryadye Park looks like, honestly
speaking. After this walk, I'm almost
convinced that most of—I won't say all of
them, of course—but most of these
glowing reviews of Zaryadye Park
were of course made by paid
bloggers, and Moscow City Hall pays for that
too. There are things you can praise
and things you can praise, like the fact there's no hotel, you can
praise the beautiful view, the restaurant there
is nice. By the way, everyone criticized
in most reviews, everyone praised it
but complained about the music in the restaurant, whereas I
liked it—Bravo (a Russian pop-rock band), even Oleg
Gazmanov (a Russian singer) I'm willing to tolerate. Well, you know
we're normal Soviet Russian people, we
want to sit
and eat while they play songs about
Moscow. What, do you want
experimental jazz there or something, in a
Russian park in the center of the country? I'm
perfectly fine with Lyube (a Russian patriotic rock band)
playing there, so I have no complaints on that score
I liked that part: the restaurant is good, everything
the staff are quite nice and friendly
the National Guard officers too, well
they're normal enough. But 14 billion rubles
that's the issue, that's our
problem with this Zaryadye Park, and if it were
say 2 billion rubles, okay
Zaryadye Park for 3 billion rubles—well
fine, you could live with that, although honestly it looks
a little provincial, to be honest
for the largest city in Europe. But Zaryadye Park
and 14 billion rubles? No, I
refuse to believe it. And they were also
telling us it would cost 30—please show
us everything. The worst part is
that all of this is surrounded by some kind of
monstrous iron fence, here it is
you can see my wife here as she
comes out of the exit of Zaryadye Park, which
cost 400 billion rubles—I mean there are
just some absolutely
hideous-looking metal detectors and
just some kind of—this, this right here—this
is what's called the main entrance
this is the main entrance to Zaryadye Park, again
for 4 billion rubles, with the Kremlin in the background
landscape design, foreign
architects, everything so fancy—and this is what it looks like
all of it looks like this. To get out of there
you just have to walk through some
little metal fences and horrible flowerbeds
please show it—I took a picture of
a flowerbed. This, you understand, is a flowerbed
well, basically at your grandmother's
dacha there isn't a flowerbed like this because she
wouldn't make one—it's too
big
come on, I don't believe this was done by the best
landscape designers. It looks
monstrous. Just go there and you'll see that I'm
not lying. It looks like just a flowerbed with
petunias. They say these are unique
flowers, unique flowers that were brought
from Germany, and they even brought special earthworms
there, supposedly, whole families of
earthworms—but what earthworms?
All I see is just a park: paving, grass, and
this paving laid by ordinary
Central Asian migrant workers. Everything there
was done by some foreman, Petrovich
who was directing the Central Asian
migrant workers—and 14 billion rubles
down the drain. There's no advanced landscape
design there at all
Maybe the original project was
beautiful, but what came out is something completely
unworthy of a city like Moscow
definitely completely below that level
...to finish off the money there, this bridge they were talking about...
They were talking about it—yes, it juts out into the...
Moskva River. It should be entered—well, I mean...
it should be put in the Guinness World Records.
But it really should be entered into the Guinness World Records,
because it’s the only bridge
where people are let on in turns, one batch at a time.
That is, I have to stand there, waiting in
line.
Not because there are too many people there, but because
they’re afraid it might collapse or something.
It’s a bridge, and they only let people onto it
in small groups. The photos from there
do come out great, I won’t argue with that.
It will be the best place in Moscow
to take a selfie with the Kremlin in the background, or
with the high-rise where Shuvalov lives in the background, on
Kotelnicheskaya Embankment.
It’s very beautiful—the Moskva River, really, the views
are beautiful, the panoramas are beautiful, it’s great.
It’s a place from which you can look out over Moscow.
But we could have looked at Moscow for
far less money and not spent 14 billion
rubles (about US$150 million). You’d only need a few thousand.
I’ve said the phrase “14 billion” so many times—14
billion rubles—but I just can’t
calm down, because after all, we’re the Anti-Corruption Foundation
(FBK), so here I’m being told:
“They looted the park,” says Igor
Zhuravlyov. “They looted the park for billions...”
“They carved up the park.” “Grandmas, this is better...”
“Cormorants will peck your grandmother’s grass away.”
There are lots of jokes here, everything is packed with jokes, as I can see.
Honestly, go to Zaryadye Park
and you’ll see exactly the same thing.
Exactly the same.
Arktika writes: in Arkhangelsk, they canceled
the route buses on October 1 that go
to the area where the rally is being held, which is far from
the city center. I’m not surprised.
Well, they do everything they can to make sure no one
comes to the rally—they canceled the route
buses.
Crooks, crooks, and swindlers.
Well, what can I say? This happens
everywhere. They’re afraid, terribly afraid. But
just imagine: you’re a governor, and you
can’t even organize your own best rally.
You’ll get 300 people showing up,
students,
who were given
I don’t know, some kind of break—credit for a class, or
a day off—or you can still drag in
state employees for money or compensatory time off.
And then some, well,
“extremists” arrive, and
some random people who supposedly have no
support, and who are funded by people giving
200 rubles each (about US$2), and they hold a rally ten times
bigger than yours. Of course that stings, it’s humiliating, and
so naturally you’ll try to hide it.
What really infuriates the Kremlin, of course, is that
for many years—18 years, 20 years—
they kept saying that there was some kind of opposition
only within the Garden Ring (central Moscow).
But in the regions, they said, there was no support at all.
That’s what they always said about everything, about me too.
They said, fine, okay, he got 30
percent in the Moscow mayoral election,
but let him go troll around in the provinces and
there he’ll run into real
life. But we came, we encountered
real life, and we like this real life,
while they don’t, because they can’t
pull anything like that together. So, Valeria Kusta asks:
what will happen to journalists if you become
president? Will VGTRK (Russia’s state broadcasting company) all be fired? There won’t
be any more state media?
There should be almost no state media.
The state does not need that many media outlets.
Moscow City Hall owns hundreds of newspapers there.
What are they for?
They’re just losses, and they cost enormous amounts of money.
So what Russia needs is public-service
television, perhaps along the lines of the BBC, but
state television—what is that even for?
The state should interact with the
media the same way everyone else interacts
with the media. That’s completely normal. As for
the current journalists—
the main propagandists—we’ll fire them all.
We’ll dismiss them, and we’ll investigate
where they got their money from,
their money.
So, Yaroslav Pikunov, and you delivered it...
the Human Rights Council’s decision.
A dental clinic—something like that...
Someone writes: in Krasnodar Krai, this
Saturday all chief doctors and department heads
are being summoned to Taman—well, that is, to the
administration, I mean—
to talk about the elections, about whom
to vote for. Well, obviously. But I’m not
surprised. Have they ever done it any differently?
It always happens, it happens exactly
like this. Did I manage to say
about Tinkov and about withdrawing the lawsuit? I
I’m glad that Tinkov withdrew the lawsuit
against Nemagia, and Dmitry Navosha wrote very correctly
about this. Dmitry Navosha, who is the
editor-in-chief and owner of Sports.ru,
wrote something very true: this
shows why private business is better
than the state. If this had been some state-owned
entity, they wouldn’t have cared at all. But
Tinkov did something foolish, then felt pressure
on his business from
clients, from people, and was forced
to withdraw that lawsuit. That’s very good. Well,
at least that’s some good news, I hope.
It would be right if he
compensated all those people
for the broken-down doors and the damages
they suffered, and then dealt with them separately
over whether they told the truth in that
video or not. That would have been
the right thing to do. Our time is coming to
an end, which means tomorrow I’ll be in Nizhny...
in Novgorod
Please come to Markin Square.
Across from the river terminal, the approval process is
in place for us, well, they may interfere with us holding it.
We’ll hold it anyway, but I won’t have a
microphone.
I’ll wave my hand at you and just shout at the top of my lungs.
Hardly anyone can hear me there. Then we have—
please show the sign again.
Orenburg
Then there will be Arkhangelsk. You can see that
everywhere it happens with problems, but it does happen.
The main thing is that people come. Yes, I, I
understand perfectly well that in Orenburg too,
and Arkhangelsk—these are cities with
difficult weather, but nevertheless there are
important things worth standing up for
in the cold, in the wind, and maybe even if
it starts to rain. But still, I’ve
spoken several times like that—let’s wait, it all
goes, I think, well. Thank you
very much to everyone who watched this episode of
Navalny Live. Navalny 2018.
See you next Thursday. Happy—
[music]