Please note: this article was written in 2021, before Alexey Navalny’s death in detention (2024).

Starting from 2009, a new opposition figure emerged in Russia, gaining attention for his staunch anti-corruption stance: Alexei Navalny. Here is a brief look at the career of an ambitious man whose reputation as a liberal does not quite match the substance of his ideology.

If there is one thing that unites Russians, it is their chronic aversion to corruption. Popular culture, comedians, cinema, and music openly mock and criticize corruption—whether by the police, oligarchs, or high-ranking officials (chinovniki)—as well as its presence at every level of Russian society. The most common manifestations include bribes (vzyatki) paid to traffic police for often fabricated offenses, or gifts in kind to teachers and instructors to secure a diploma. Even Kremlin-approved comedians do not hesitate to ridicule Vladimir Putin himself, often in front of audiences made up of the very people who are the biggest accomplices and beneficiaries of his corrupt system. They are the modern-day “court jesters.”

Russian social life is indeed riddled with corruption, and promises to eradicate it are the rallying cry of every opposition figure, including so-called “paper opponents” like Vladimir Zhirinovsky, the infamous ultra-conservative populist leader who regularly makes headlines by mocking the inconsistencies of those in power. Yet, he has never faced physical repercussions for his public statements, which help maintain the illusion of pluralism that Putin has carefully cultivated since he was crowned tsar of all the Russias.

Starting in 2009, a new opposition figure emerged in Russia, gaining attention for his staunch anti-corruption stance: Alexei Navalny, then an advisor to the governor of Kirov. Over the next decade, he became the only credible opposition to Putin, running in Moscow’s municipal elections and later in presidential elections, all while facing numerous judicial summonses designed to break his resolve.

If one were to compare Navalny to other political leaders fiercely opposed to corruption (at least while in opposition), one might look to Ukraine’s Petro Poroshenko, Yulia Tymoshenko, or Vitali Klitschko. All three campaigned for power on promises to end endemic corruption, basking in the aura of integrity that surrounds populist leaders opposing dictatorship—only to later lose their way in the labyrinth of ambition and cronyism.

A conservative political background

A brief look at Alexei Navalny’s platform is enough to see that his politics draw inspiration from the ultra-liberal doctrines that, since the 1970s, have championed individualism and competition while dismantling social protections and public services wherever they are imposed by force. Navalny thus follows directly in the footsteps of Thatcher, Reagan, and Sarkozy, and his political program is virtually identical to Macron’s: promises of growth, privatization, the expansion of self-employment, tax exemptions for small businesses, a technological gamble, deregulation of transport, increased military budgets and personnel, and the regionalization and decentralization of government…

There is nothing innovative or progressive in Navalny’s approach, which merely reproduces the precepts that have repeatedly brought populations to their knees under the harsh prescriptions of market economics—enforced by the World Trade Organization, the World Bank, and the International Monetary Fund—around the world. Beyond his neoliberal aspirations, Navalny is also a nationalist. Russian realists will argue that one must be a nationalist (or at least a patriot, if you prefer) to win the hearts of Russians. This is not entirely untrue. But it also condemns Russian society to be endlessly overtaken by its reactionary demons—where racism, homophobia, Islamophobia, and antisemitism are openly tolerated.

Navalny makes no secret of having co-founded the “Narod” movement (transl. “The People”) in 2007, whose principles and values are deeply rooted in the far right. His political platform includes opposition to immigration, and in his speeches, he does not hesitate to associate foreigners with crime. He regularly downplays the dangers of far-right extremism and nationalism in Russia, echoing Vladimir Putin’s positions on Crimea and the Caucasus, regions with Muslim majorities. Having forged multiple alliances with ultranationalists and proudly participating in the annual “Russian March,” he advocates for “national renewal,” speaks of “national betrayal,” “organic unity with the past,” and “Russian civilization,” and supports the expulsion of foreigners “who do not respect our laws and traditions” and the imposition of visa requirements for citizens of the former USSR—specifically those from Central Asia, whose communities are the primary targets of racism in Russia.

In a 2008 blog post, Navalny referred to immigrant workers as “metics” (tchutchmeki), suggesting that one could understand the violence of skinheads against them when hearing them “hammering metal with an infernal roar at dawn.” He has also published articles on his platform insulting Jews and people from Central Asia and the Caucasus. Furthermore, Navalny’s program calls for the decriminalization of Article 282 of the penal code, which punishes “incitement to hatred or discrimination, as well as offenses against human dignity,” advocates amnesty for Russian soldiers involved in the Chechen wars, and supports the widespread right to bear arms in the name of “self-defense.”

Popularity among the “White Russian” diaspora

Navalny left the social-liberal Yabloko party in 2007 due to his ties with the nationalist right. Yet, many of those now taking to the streets outside Russia to demand his release and protest Putin’s regime were predominantly Yabloko voters in elections over the past decade. Today, widespread frustration with the authoritarian status quo imposed by Putin—at the expense of both the Russian people and a small bourgeoisie with few opportunities—combined with Navalny’s effective communication, has led Russian liberals to rally behind this new “herald of democracy.”

For several years now, Navalny’s YouTube channel has been releasing incisive investigative reports exposing the “Putin system,” denouncing its corruption and violence with rigorous, hard-to-dispute evidence: the facts speak for themselves. Navalny does what no one else has dared to do, because in Russia, speaking the truth can cost you your life. Over the past two decades, numerous opposition figures have been assassinated: Anna Politkovskaya, Natalya Estemirova, Stanislav Markelov, Anastasia Baburova, Boris Nemtsov, Alexander Litvinenko, Paul Klebnikov, Sergei Magnitsky, Sergei Yushenko, Mikhail Beket, and others. Still more, such as Sergei Udaltsov or the anarchist activists convicted in the “Network” case and the dismantling of the “Narodnaya Samooborona” (People’s Self-Defense) social network, have been tortured and/or imprisoned in labor camps for allegedly threatening state security. Navalny himself was poisoned, as were Vladimir Kara-Murza, Viktor Yushchenko, Alexander Litvinenko, and Sergei Skripal before him…

In Europe, particularly in France, a significant portion of the Russian diaspora hails from the bourgeois or even aristocratic classes—the so-called “White Russians”—who fled to France after the 1917 Revolution and later Stalinism (an estimated 400,000 in France at the time, including 150,000 in the Paris region). On one of the diaspora’s Facebook pages, “Russkie v Parizhe” (Russians in Paris), which counts 40,000 members, one finds a mix of posts about the “good life” in Paris—luxury, fine dining, cultural outings, rental and job listings—as well as revealing exchanges and comments on how this diaspora views itself within French society, and by extension, the contemporary world. There, one often criticizes insecurity and dirt, rails against immigration and social movements, complains about public transport and bureaucracy (both French and Russian)—all fertile ground for the ideas espoused by someone like Navalny…

In the family and social circles of this exiled elite, revolution is hardly held in high regard, and left-wing revolutionary ideas even less so. Instead, there is a preference for liberal entrepreneurs with a youthful, charismatic image, such as Nemtsov or Navalny, or even for romantic rogues and libertarian gentleman thieves like Pyotr Pavlensky (though his reputation is more predatory than romantic) or Eduard Limonov, the former founder of the red-brown “National Bolshevik” movement, whose provocative, iconoclastic performances owe more to artistic shock value than to any coherent political project. The populist audacity of these “provocateurs” naturally earns the admiration and support of a diaspora that viscerally despises Putin’s austere, vulgar regime—a regime built on the ruins of the USSR by recycling Soviet-era bureaucrats.

The spirit that animates these “paper dissidents” is liberal, even libertarian, driven by the aesthetic mirage of free enterprise, which promises—sooner or later—to allow them to build and invest their European gains back in their home country, without having to contend with the mafia or Putin’s intractable police bureaucracy.

A binary understanding of the world

This mindset, shaped by the idea of change initiated through social media—naively reformist and deeply hostile to any form of revolutionary violence—has come to dream of a world where Good would naturally triumph over Evil. If one subscribes to this binary and candid worldview, which never questions capitalism as a system of oppression, it is hardly surprising to find oneself supporting a Navalny or a Poroshenko simply because they represent the only visible, demonstrative opposition to Putin, and to overlook the potential consequences of this “default” choice: the perpetuation of the very system that produced and promoted them. Navalny, of course, enjoys the backing of all the major Western democracies, with Emmanuel Macron’s France at the forefront. But is the choice really between Macron and Putin?

Meanwhile, a significant portion of the Russian people—many of whom believe Putin is not responsible for the social ills plaguing the country and who vote for him, beyond the very real election rigging designed to inflate the “consent rate”—nonetheless yearn for change. They blame an oligarchy of businessmen and high-ranking officials, whom no one dares to name, even though a closer look reveals most to be close associates of the president or their proxies. One doesn’t need Navalny’s self-promotional videos to see this.

Widespread frustration and endemic social chaos are driving more and more Russians into the streets whenever calls to protest spread on social media, only to be met with massive police repression (3,500 arrests on Saturday, January 23, 2021, mostly in Moscow and St. Petersburg) and extremely harsh judicial sentences. Yet, these movements remain far from achieving the hoped-for overthrow, and as long as this revolt stays superficial, Putin’s power will not waver. It is built on a repressive apparatus now a century old. Navalny in power would only change the roof and repaint the facades; the foundations and pillars would remain the same…

Some Russian dissidents in exile—political refugees, not the well-behaved students of the diaspora—attempted to expose this charade with humor during the Brussels rally for Navalny. The young liberals shouted “Shame on you!” at them: https://mobile.twitter.com/pepel_klaasa/status/1353004265489498112?s=09 

As for political pluralism and criticism under a Navalny regime, the outlook is bleak…

Satellite images have proven that Chechen strongman Ramzan Kadyrov has imprisoned, tortured, and even disappeared numerous individuals in his secret prisons in Argun and Tsotsi-Yurt. The international press is quick to refer to these as “concentration camps” for homosexuals, adding horror to horror, while the original article in Russian merely reveals what has already existed for decades: secret bases where Kadyrov’s militias have always been active.

This massive attack on homosexuals accompanied attempts by LGBT activists to organize several gay pride events in four cities in the Caucasus. Requests to this effect were made on March 9, 2017 (see Novaya Gazeta article) to local authorities by Nikolai Alekseev and Vladimir Klimov, announcing the participation of several hundred people. A new wave of persecution immediately followed the announcement, which was merely a new pretext for attacks already initiated earlier by the government militias against homosexuals.

Some information from the mainstream media is available here and there in French.

This “cleansing” campaign is part of a long history of arbitrariness and violence.

The Chechen context

Since the official end of the second Chechen conflict, the inauguration of Ramzan Kadyrov, and the definitive withdrawal of Russian troops from the Chechen Republic in 2006, Kadyrov’s militias have been waging a systematic policy of terror that leaves little choice but to flee or suffer for those who survived Russia’s unspeakable 10-year war on the small republic. Kadyrov’s arbitrary power means random violence against anyone who does not publicly pledge allegiance to the tyrant.

After conscientiously eliminating all opposition, assassinating human rights defenders (Anna Politkovskaya, Natalya Estemirova, Stanislas Markelov, Anastasia Baburova, etc.) and closing their offices in Grozny (Memorial Association), Kadyrov launched a sinister vendetta against all the families of those who fled abroad or who, directly or indirectly, certainly or allegedly, helped or participated in the armed rebellion against the pro-Russian government. Torturing and murdering people in his secret prisons, burning down the houses (sources: 1, 2, and 3) of the parents of suspected combatants, he even went so far as to have the only person who dared to file a complaint against him directly with the European Court of Human Rights, Umar Israilov, assassinated in the heart of Europe, in Vienna, in January 2009. the only person who dared to file a complaint directly against him with the European Court of Human Rights, Umar Israilov. His assassin, Lechi Bogatyrev, is now police commander of the Pobedinskoe district of Grozny. For several months now, Kadyrov has also been staging weekly public humiliation sessions on local television, in which he and his lieutenants lecture people who bow down to them, accusing them of everything and anything (see 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7…). Many of those lectured in this way subsequently disappear without trace. Finally, since 2014, Kadyrov has been sending his own men, willingly or by force, to fight in eastern Ukraine alongside Russian forces (see Euronews report).

Consequently, the murderous frenzies of Chechen “Ubu the King” benefit from the complicity of the Kremlin, preventing any Chechens from seeking refuge elsewhere in the Russian Federation. Kadyrov is the Kremlin’s ruthless puppet, whose iron fist guarantees Russia’s continued domination over the Chechen Republic.

An unbearable exile

Fleeing the country in their hundreds, Chechens first cross Belarus, which has still not reestablished its borders with Russia, before being screened at the Polish border in Terespol. For the past year, Poland has decided to drastically restrict access to its territory, turning back the vast majority of Chechens at the border crossing, causing hundreds of people to become stranded in Brest, in western Belarus. This is at the request of the European authorities and Frontex, who care little about the fate of asylum seekers who are turned away at the gates of the Schengen area.

Those who make it to Poland, despite the fact that there seems to be enough space in shelters for asylum seekers, quickly realize that it is a dead end and that they will never be granted any status that would allow them to live decently in the country. Not to mention that in Poland, as in Austria, Kadyrov’s men are everywhere and regularly resort to pressure, threats, and aggression. As a result, Poland is often only the beginning of the road that leads Chechens to Germany, Scandinavia, the Benelux countries, or France.

Once they arrive in Paris, most Chechen asylum seekers are placed under the Dublin Convention and forced to hide for 6 to 18 months while France tries to send them back to Poland (or another country considered responsible for their asylum application). During this interminable period of hiding, the Paris Prefecture sends them summonses to the 8th office (N.B.: other prefectures also have their own “deportation offices”), which are nothing more than ambushes designed to try to put them on a plane before they can file their asylum application in France.

And even when their asylum applications are registered, the Code on Entry, Stay and Asylum Application (CESEDA) has become increasingly strict over the past four years, leading to an exponential increase in rejections by the French Office for Refugees and Stateless Persons (OFPRA) or the National Court of Asylum (CNDA) . The further away the official end of the war in Chechnya becomes, the less likely Chechens are to have the threats they face if they return to their country recognized. This is despite the fact that the huge Chechen diaspora, the international community, NGOs, and journalists are (almost) unanimous in saying that Chechnya is an open-air death trap. This does not matter to asylum judges, who insist without blushing that applicants must provide them with “new evidence” and “be more persuasive during hearings.”

An increase in deportations means an increase in refusals of residence permits and orders to leave French territory. We know what happens next: the plane. But after that, we don’t know: Europe cares little about the fate of those who have been handed over, bound hand and foot, to the Russian police.

Counterterrorism and racist stereotypes

Disdainful of the plight of thousands of Chechen refugees who have been struggling for more than a decade in the Schengen Area, European authorities have decided to impose a double punishment on the Chechen diaspora since the start of the war in Syria.

In France, following the attacks in January and November 2015, the Central Territorial Intelligence Service (SCRT) and the General Directorate for Internal Security (DGSI), both newly established in 2014, have further tightened surveillance of Muslims, particularly Chechens.

The paranoid and fabricated notes of the intelligence services, fueled by a striking ignorance of the Muslim religion and its practices, but also by indifference to the history and experiences of the Chechen community since the 2000s, serve to justify administrative measures that allow for the harassment and arbitrary deprivation of liberty:

On November 20, 2015, Lioma, a 41-year-old refugee since 2007, was placed under house arrest at his home in Ingré. His house arrest was finally overturned by the Orleans Administrative Court more than 10 months later, in October 2016.

On November 21, 2015, at around 2:30 a.m., RAID police officers raided the home of Magomed, a 32-year-old refugee since 2006 and father of nine children, in the Cité des Chaumes neighborhood of Montauban. He was immediately placed under house arrest. The order was finally revoked two months later.

At the same time, two other Chechens were placed under house arrest in Montauban, in the Beausoleil and Montplaisir neighborhoods. Their house arrest orders were also lifted after two months.

On November 26, 2015, at 7 a.m., around 20 GIGN police officers raided the home of Saïd Ahmed Itaev, a 33-year-old father of five who had been naturalized as a French citizen in 2007, in Sarreguemines. He was immediately put under house arrest.

On November 30, 2015, at 6 a.m., around 20 police officers from the SWAT team raided the Madiev family home in Rouen and conducted a search as part of the state of emergency. The search proved fruitless.

On January 25, 2016, at around 11 p.m., several dozen police officers from the SWAT team conducted simultaneous searches of the homes of Aslan, Ibragim, and Issa, three Chechens aged 32, 24, and 29 living in the Croix-du-Sud neighborhood of Reims, who had been refugees in France since 2010.

On September 9, 2016, Mansour Koudousov, 25, was deported to Russia after being placed under house arrest in Die (Drôme) since 2012, following the Merah case.

There are dozens of stories like these. Among the more than 3,000 home searches and 400 house arrests carried out during the state of emergency, many Chechens were affected. In almost all of these cases, there has been no legal follow-up, no solid evidence, but rather baseless speculation, referring to “alleged links” and “signs of radicalization,” “trips” to Turkey and Ukraine, or even visiting “Islamist websites.” In this case, Chechen news sites such as Checheninfo, Kavkaz Center, Chechen Press, Nohchicho, Chechen News, Golos Ichkerii, Ichkeria Info, and Waynakh.com, which are visited by the diaspora, are not Islamist websites, but community news sites, even though they have religious sections and give a voice to the Chechen rebellion (= opposition).

Extraditions to Russia

Disdainful of the plight of thousands of Chechen refugees who have been struggling for more than a decade in the Schengen Area, European authorities have decided to impose a double punishment on the Chechen diaspora since the start of the war in Syria.

In France, following the attacks in January and November 2015, the Central Territorial Intelligence Service (SCRT) and the General Directorate for Internal Security (DGSI), both newly established in 2014, have further tightened surveillance of Muslims, particularly Chechens.

The paranoid and fabricated notes of the intelligence services, fueled by a striking ignorance of the Muslim religion and its practices, but also by indifference to the history and experiences of the Chechen community since the 2000s, serve to justify administrative measures that allow for the harassment and arbitrary deprivation of liberty:

On November 20, 2015, Lioma, a 41-year-old refugee since 2007, was placed under house arrest at his home in Ingré. His house arrest was finally overturned by the Orleans Administrative Court more than 10 months later, in October 2016.

On November 21, 2015, at around 2:30 a.m., RAID police officers raided the home of Magomed, a 32-year-old refugee since 2006 and father of nine children, in the Cité des Chaumes neighborhood of Montauban. He was immediately placed under house arrest. The order was finally revoked two months later.

At the same time, two other Chechens were placed under house arrest in Montauban, in the Beausoleil and Montplaisir neighborhoods. Their house arrest orders were also lifted after two months.

On November 26, 2015, at 7 a.m., around 20 GIGN police officers raided the home of Saïd Ahmed Itaev, a 33-year-old father of five who had been naturalized as a French citizen in 2007, in Sarreguemines. He was immediately put under house arrest.

On November 30, 2015, at 6 a.m., around 20 police officers from the SWAT team raided the Madiev family home in Rouen and conducted a search as part of the state of emergency. The search proved fruitless.

On January 25, 2016, at around 11 p.m., several dozen police officers from the SWAT team conducted simultaneous searches of the homes of Aslan, Ibragim, and Issa, three Chechens aged 32, 24, and 29 living in the Croix-du-Sud neighborhood of Reims, who had been refugees in France since 2010.

On September 9, 2016, Mansour Koudousov, 25, was deported to Russia after being placed under house arrest in Die (Drôme) since 2012, following the Merah case.

There are dozens of stories like these. Among the more than 3,000 home searches and 400 house arrests carried out during the state of emergency, many Chechens were affected. In almost all of these cases, there has been no legal follow-up, no solid evidence, but rather baseless speculation, referring to “alleged links” and “signs of radicalization,” “trips” to Turkey and Ukraine, or even visiting “Islamist websites.” In this case, Chechen news sites such as Checheninfo, Kavkaz Center, Chechen Press, Nohchicho, Chechen News, Golos Ichkerii, Ichkeria Info, and Waynakh.com, which are visited by the diaspora, are not Islamist websites, but community news sites, even though they have religious sections and give a voice to the Chechen rebellion (= opposition).

On a regular basis, the DGSI submits memos to the Department of Public Freedoms and Legal Affairs (DLPAJ), recommending action against individuals for whom there are “serious reasons to believe” that they “pose a serious threat to public order or state security.” This is where Pascale Léglise enters the picture—a senior civil servant and longtime veteran of the Ministry of the Interior, whose daily work is devoted to building cases against individuals for whom there is little or no substantive evidence, beyond the reactionary beliefs of overzealous ministry officials.

This same Pascale Léglise was, on the evening of November 13, 2015, while the Bataclan attack was still unfolding, drafting the decrees implementing the state of emergency by the light of her desk lamp at 11 rue des Saussaies.

She later appeared before the Melun Administrative Court on December 2, 2015, to argue against C., one of the individuals placed under house arrest during COP21. Described as a “leader of the radical ultra-left political scene,” C. was presented as a threat to public order. The house arrest was upheld, including by the Conseil d’Etat, thereby entrenching the draconian security measures of the state of emergency at the highest legal level.

Pascale Léglise appeared once again before the Paris Administrative Court on February 6, 2017, this time to argue against Kamel Daoudi—described as “Bin Laden’s lieutenant”—who had been under house arrest for nine years on the basis of 16-year-old suspicions (read his blog). Daoudi had already served five years in prison between 2005 and 2008. Since then, despite a residence ban, he has been shuttled from town to town while the authorities attempt to find a country willing to accept his deportation.

The most recent illustration of the DLPAJ’s harmful practices came on April 12, 2017, with the action taken against Vakha Djamalkhanov. Vakha, a 25-year-old Chechen granted refugee status in France in 2010, was arrested at his home in Limeil-Brévannes by dozens of heavily armed, hooded SWAT officers—after which he simply disappeared.

The following day, members of the Chechen community mobilized: around 20 people gathered at Place de la République on the evening of April 13, followed by some 70 people at the same location on April 14.

On Friday afternoon, we learned—not from his lawyer, who had been stonewalled by various government agencies, but from another source—that Vakha had been subjected to a provision of the 2014 law “strengthening the fight against terrorism.” This provision allows the DLPAJ to expel, without trial and without the possibility of appeal, any individual for whom there are “serious reasons to believe” they pose a threat to public order or state security. Further investigation revealed that this practice is far from exceptional.

Vakha was thus secretly deported to Russia on Wednesday and handed over to the FSB, after his refugee status had been revoked in 2014. The justification for this relentless pursuit was a trip to Turkey in January 2014, made using a valid Russian passport he had purchased. The suspicion: that he had joined ISIS. In reality, he was traveling to Turkey to meet his future wife.

Whether this claim is true or not, it is certainly not for the FSB to decide—particularly given that all of Vakha’s relatives were systematically executed by Russian forces between 1994 and 2007, often under especially horrific circumstances.

Even as Angela Merkel and François Hollande publicly feign tension in their relationship with Vladimir Putin—suggesting that sanctions further impoverishing the Russian population are an effective means of resistance—European police forces continue to cooperate with Russian authorities under the pretext of combating terrorism and illegal immigration. As early as April, it was reported that Khizir B., another young Chechen, was awaiting extradition to Russia in the German prison of Büren. A rally was held on April 3, 2017, outside the German embassy in Paris. About fifteen people attended, voicing the same message repeated two weeks later: “Don’t help Russia kill us.”

This apparent contradiction does not seem to trouble the French authorities.

As of Monday, April 17, no news had been heard from Vakha for five days. One can only imagine the anguish of his mother, who was present at his arrest alongside her two nieces, aged seven and nine. As with other raids targeting Chechen families, these hooded operations inevitably revive the traumatic memories of the “cleansing campaigns” carried out in Chechnya.

Update: Vakha has since been located in a prison in Chechnya, where he has been convicted of “participation in an armed organization.” France has finally responded to a request from European authorities, tersely confirming that he was deported on the day of his arrest. Swift and efficient.