Alexei Navalny and the dream of a beautiful Russia, or at least a normal one

Historians of regimes that are moving from authoritarian to outrightly thuggish and brutal often see political assassinations as marking decisive turning points. So, in Italy, the murder of the Socialist leader, Giacomo Matteotti, in July 1924 is seen by many as the moment when Mussolini broke with parliamentary democracy and turned Italy into a fascist state forcing his opponents to flee abroad while he promoted the cult of the all-powerful leader, ‘Il Duce’. In Germany, the ‘Night of the Long Knives’ in June 1934 was Hitler’s moment of reckoning with all those within the Nazi Party who threatened his absolute authority, whether Gregor Stasser on the left wing of the Party or Ernst Rohm and his SA Stormtroopers. Similarly, in Soviet Russia, the assassination of Sergei Kirov, the Leningrad Communist Party chief, in 1934, followed by the show trials of old Bolshevik comrades such as Nikolai Bukharin and Grigori Zinoviev, underscored Stalin’s determination to eliminate potential rivals and achieve absolute power as the ‘Vozd’, or ‘all seeing, all knowing leader’. The murder of Leon Trotsky at the hands of the NKVD secret police in Mexico in 1940 was but a postscript.

The death of the Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny at the Polar Wolf penal colony north of the Arctic Circle in Siberia last Friday instantly recalls these depressing parallels. Although still relatively young at 47, Navalny had long been the most well-known opposition figure to the dictatorship of Vladimir Putin, especially inside Russia itself where Putin’s opponents are often dismissed as well-meaning but marginal figures who belong to the pampered urban bourgeoisie but have little connection with ordinary Russians and their daily concerns. Navalny, by contrast, had good nationalist credentials. He supported the rights of ethnic Russians abroad and even approved Putin’s annexation of Crimea in 2014. While this might make him less attractive to Western audiences it made it harder for Putin’s propagandists to portray him as unpatriotic or an enemy of the state. At the same time, Navalny campaigned less on a platform of building democracy or protecting human rights – themes that do not (yet) resonate with the mass of the Russian public – than on the topic of corruption of the clique around Putin. He famously called Putin’s United Russia “the party of crooks and thieves”, a designation that stuck in social media and with broad swathes of Russian society. Navalny’s well-researched and slickly produced videos exposing the fabulous wealth and palatial mansions of Putin and other leaders, such as former President Dimitry Medvedev, went viral on social media and were watched by tens of millions of Russians. They elicited embarrassed denials from Putin’s entourage but allowed Navalny and his Foundation for Fighting Corruption to bring thousands onto the streets in, by far, the biggest demonstrations against the regime. Much of what Navalny claimed was subsequently corroborated by the leak of the ‘Panama Papers’, which revealed how many Russian oligarchs and figures close to Putin, and possibly acting at his behest, had laundered billions of dollars through shell companies and tax havens.

Navalny was not a saint but he was a man of remarkable fortitude and courage. On multiple occasions, he was barred on spurious procedural grounds from standing in elections, both for Mayor of Moscow as well as for President. His first stint in jail ended after just a few hours when a major demonstration in Moscow called for his release. This should remind us that ‘people power’ can work in Russia and why Putin and his kleptocracy are so afraid of it. Instead, the regime imprisoned Navalny’s brother, Oleg, on trumped-up tax evasion charges in 2014 in an effort to intimidate Navalny himself. Green detergent was thrown into Navalny’s face depriving him of sight in one eye and he was regularly seen being arrested and bundled into police vans during demonstrations. Many Russian opposition figures subjected to this rough treatment would slip out of the country and accept a life of exile. But not Navalny. He used his legendary physical resilience and caustic sarcasm and humour to demonstrate to the courts and the police that his will to resist would not easily be broken. Most famously – after his wife, Yulia, managed to get him to Germany for medical treatment after he was taken ill with Novichok nerve agent poisoning on a flight from Tomsk to Moscow in 2020 – Navalny decided to return voluntarily to Russia in January 2021. He must have known that he would be arrested by the Russian police as soon as he went through passport control and that once a political opponent of Putin is in jail, he or she has little chance of re-emerging alive. As the sentence proceeds, newly invented charges are constantly added to the docket to keep an inmate behind bars for years ahead. Thus, just a few weeks before his death, new tax evasion charges were brought against him and his prison term extended by a further 19 years. Navalny must have suspected that he would probably die in prison or would need to inspire the Russian opposition from jail for several difficult years in the hope that, like Nelson Mandela emerging from Victor Verster prison in 1990, he would be the natural leader of his country when the Putin dictatorship finally fell.  Navalny spoke of “serving a life sentence, which is measured by the length of my life or the length of the life of this regime”. At a minimum, he knew that once a Russian opposition leader goes into exile he or she is soon forgotten inside Russia as happened to Nobel Prize winner, Alexander Soltzynitsin, whose work portrays the crimes of the Soviet system, when he resettled in Switzerland.

The Putin regime is well known for eliminating its critics and political opponents. Oligarchs like Boris Berezovsky have mysteriously died in their English mansions and former spies like Sergei Skypal been attacked with Novichok in quiet cathedral towns like Salisbury. Chechen dissidents have been shot in Berlin parks. Yevgeny Prigozhin, who launched a brief revolt after being sidelined in Ukraine, died together with his close lieutenants when his plane was blown out of the sky. Boris Nemtsov, the figure closest to Navalny in charisma and influence, was gunned down on a Moscow bridge just a few hundred metres away from the Kremlin in 2015. Being an investigative journalist is virtually a death sentence too and international recognition affords no protection, as the case of Anna Poliitkovskaya, assassinated in her apartment building in Moscow in October 2006 reminds us. Other opponents like Vladimir Kara-Mourza have also received draconian jail sentences, in his case 25 years, simply for speaking out, while the head of the Memorial NGO that tried to establish the facts about Russian history, Oleg Orlov, is currently facing a 5-year sentence. Meanwhile, Putin’s dread of any protest movement leads the police to ridiculously over-react and beat up and detain citizens for the most insignificant gestures, such as laying flowers at a memorial statue, carrying a picture of Navalny in a backpack or holding up a blank piece of paper in protest against Putin’s “special military operation” in Ukraine. A father was jailed for 15 years after his infant daughter painted a picture of the war in Ukraine judged to be subversive by the authorities. Although Putin is guaranteed victory in the elections in March, he still feels the need to disqualify any war-critical candidates, such as recently Boris Nadezhdin, even though their electoral support is tiny. Only a few symbolic alternative candidates, whose positions align essentially with United Russia, are allowed to compete to give the election a fig leaf of legitimacy. Lately, the regime has taken to indicting European diplomats and politicians equating their opposition to Putin with criminal intent to bring down the Russian state. This has been the case with British MPs and former ambassadors, and incredibly with Kaja Kallas, the Prime Minister of Estonia. Moscow seems to be hoping here that banning her from visiting Russia will undermine her chances of succeeding Josep Borrell as the EU foreign policy chief after the EU Parliament elections in June.

At the time of writing, we do not know for sure how and why Navalny died. As on previous occasions when the finger of accusation is pointed at Moscow, the Kremlin has produced a dozen different stories to explain what has happened, including that it was all a plot by Navalny’s wife Yulia to take over the leadership of the opposition. These narratives are designed to sow confusion and convince us that the truth is ultimately unknowable. The Russian authorities claim that the autopsy on Navalny’s body will take at least two weeks, although they also assert that he died of natural causes. The longer it takes to deliver the body to Navalny’s family and allow his funeral to move ahead, the more suspicions of foul play and a cover-up will grow. The day before his death Navalny appeared on a video screen from his prison to give testimony to a court and appeared in reasonably good shape despite weeks spent in solitary confinement. Thus, his sudden death a few hours later urgently requires real answers, as difficult it will be to prise them out of the Russian prison authorities and the investigative team. Yet even if Putin will probably never be linked directly to an assassination plot, the Russian leader bears the real responsibility for Navalny’s death by condoning two poisoning attempts, continuous harassment and sending him to a prison located 1900km from Moscow, where the lack of medical care and freezing temperatures were bound to lead to a deterioration in his health. Putin always refused to refer to Navalny by his name as if he were a non-person and has remained characteristically silent since news of his death emerged. At the same time, it is puzzling why Putin would have chosen this precise point in time to dispose of Navalny. His re-election is not in doubt and the war in Ukraine is going better for him. Perhaps he felt that he is now invincible and free to settle scores with all his opponents. But eliminating Navalny also risks solidifying the West’s will to resist Putin and impose additional sanctions against Russia. Navalny’s legacy will not disappear with his death. As Talleyrand famously said of the murder attributed to Napoleon of the Duc d’Enghien: “It is worse than a crime. It is a mistake.”

The mantle of the Russian opposition will now probably pass to Navalny’s wife, Yulia Navalnaya, who gave an inspiring address to the Munich Security Conference and was invited to meet with the EU foreign ministers in Brussels last Monday. At first sight, she seems to have the mettle and charisma to take on this role and she can follow the precedent of Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya, the Belarusian opposition leader who was the real winner of the presidential elections in 2020 and forced to live abroad. Tsikhanouskaya stepped into this role unexpectedly when her husband was incarcerated and prevented from running in the election by the unmovable dictator of Belarus, Alexander Lukashenko. As mentioned, it is not easy to influence Russian politics from exile. Even Lenin had to be brought back to Saint Petersburg in a sealed train by Germany during the First World War before he could infect Russian politics with the virus of the Bolshevik revolution. Yet Russian bloggers, social media influencers and independent media in the Baltic States and The Netherlands, such as TV Rain and Novaya Gazeta, claim that they reach 40 million Russians inside the country every month. There is an important network of Putin opponents in Europe and North America that Yulia Navalnaya can work with, such as Mikhail Khodorkovsky, the former energy tycoon; Gary Kasparov, the chess champion; and Mikhail Kasyrov, who was prime minister during Putin’s first term as President. Provided, of course, that they can all work together. Yet they will need patience and a strong dose of Navalny’s famous fortitude as Putin has cowed Russian society into submission and passivity. It will be a long time before the opposition leaders can return to Russia without facing imprisonment or even a death sentence.

This leaves the question of how the Western allies should react to Navalny’s death. Outrage is a justified and well-rehearsed emotion. But it will not weaken Putin or help the cause of democracy in Russia. The best way to honour Navalny is to try to ensure that he remains as influential from beyond the grave as he did in life. Many leaders have said that they have imposed so many sanctions against Russia already since it invaded Ukraine two years ago that there is no scope to do more. The EU was preparing a 13th sanctions package against Moscow before Navalny’s death. Yet there are many steps that the EU and its democratic allies can consider even if they involve strengthening existing sanctions as much as looking for new ones.

In first place, the EU can press the United Nations to launch a full judicial investigation into the circumstances surrounding Navalny’s death and to publish all hard facts and evidence to puncture all the myths and disinformation that will undoubtedly fly around the social media and blogger sphere. The UN Secretary General should appoint a special team of legal and medical experts, including pathologists, to try to gain access to the Polar Wolf prison and examine Navalny’s body in the morgue. Alice Edwards, the UN Special Rapporteur on Torture and Inhumane Treatment, could also be involved. Russia will probably deny the team access but establishing a UN investigation will make clear to Moscow that Navalny’s death is not just a domestic matter but one of international concern. Moreover, as it has shown in gathering data and evidence on war crimes, or the use of chemical weapons or environmental degradation, the UN is the most credible repository of scientific facts. The EU and its Western partners can make clear that they will launch prosecutions against all those involved In Navalny’s death if it indeed resulted from lack of adequate medical care, unduly harsh conditions of imprisonment or outright assassination.

In second place, the EU’s member states need to ensure that Russian opposition figures who have sought sanctuary on their territory are properly protected. Intelligence sharing on the activities of Russian intelligence agencies such as the GRU, FSB and SVR will need to be stepped up if the Kremlin decides to send more assassination teams to Europe using dangerous substances like Novichok or the highly toxic Polonium 135 that was used to kill Alexander Litvinenko in London in 2010. At the same time, Western governments and the media need to keep the spotlight on those imprisoned in Russia or facing intimidation for peaceful protest. Official and media attention usually focuses on foreign nationals who have been arrested by the Russian police on trumped-up charges, such as spying in the case of Wall Street Journal reporter, Evan Gershkovich or the American businessman, Paul Whelan, or drugs violations in the case of the American basketball player, Brittney Griner. Putin cynically has detained these individuals to obtain prisoner exchanges for Russians held in Western jails, as he freely acknowledged in his recent interview with Tucker Carlson. Even the attention currently focused on Navalny’s colleague, Vladimir Kara-Mourza, comes from the fact that he is a British as well as a Russian citizen. So, we all need to keep the spotlight on the fate of the Russian political prisoners and constantly press the Russian authorities for information on their situation. We need too to monitor the situation with those still living in Russian society but in a precarious position such as Dimitry Muratov, the newspaper editor and Nobel laureate, and Oleg Orlov of Memorial.  This tactic was used by Western governments in the Cold War and within the OSCE framework to support Soviet dissidents like Andrei Sakharov and Yelena Bonner. It kept the Soviet regime constantly on the back foot and signalled to the dissidents that they had not been forgotten. The West broadcasted news about them and re-published their writings and statements. It helped to keep the flame of free speech alive in the darkness.

But the most important way to preserve Navalny’s memory is to push on the issue that he made his own: fighting and exposing corruption. Navalny produced a famous list of Russian oligarchs and politicians and their foreign supporters and networks aiding and abetting their corruption. Western countries should now act systematically on this list and dismantle these networks, winding down fiscal havens in places like Panama and the Cayman Islands and making financial markets like London or Frankfurt watertight against Russian money laundering. Western firms acting as agents of Russian-sanctioned business activities need to be exposed and shut down. In the wake of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, this clean-up effort has started, particularly in the G7 and legislation to identify the beneficial owners of shell companies. Yet as we have learned from recent UK press articles, reporting on compliance by companies has been haphazard and incomplete. So, the implementation of measures to combat corruption and illicit financial flows needs to be stepped up and go much deeper than the symbolic confiscation of a few yachts owned by Russian oligarchs. There is talk of setting up an international Anti-Corruption Court based on a statute of good practice and legal standards similar to the Rome Statute of 2002 for war crimes. The EU is already doing this within its own jurisdiction.  These initiatives could usefully bear Navalny’s name. The precedent here is the various Magnitsky Acts that the United States and many other Western countries have adopted. They are named after Sergei Magnitsky, the tax adviser working for Bill Browder’s Hermitage Capital in Moscow, who died in a Russian prison in 2009 after being refused medical treatment. He had exposed widespread corruption and malpractice among Russian officials, particularly the tax authorities. The first Magnitsky Act was passed by the US Congress in 2012 and was expanded in 2016. It allows the US government to freeze the assets of those guilty of corruption or human rights abuses. Other countries have adopted similar Magnitsky Acts and a Magnitsky Global Justice Campaign has also been launched to lobby governments for more measures against sanctions evasion, money laundering and poorly regulated financial markets. What Navalny’s name might best be attached to is the confiscation of Russian financial assets abroad including those of the Central Bank. Ukraine has repeatedly called for these funds to be directed to reconstruction in Ukraine, humanitarian assistance and the financing of weapons. Russian assets are calculated at around $300bn, most of which are in the EU and £22bn in the United Kingdom. The US Senate has already adopted legislation to seize Russian assets in the US but these are small compared to Russia’s holdings in Europe. The G7 has taken up this issue and the EU and UK have laboured long and hard on the legal and political merits of confiscation, especially in terms of the precedent for financial asset protection that it would set. So far, consensus seems more possible for the confiscation of the interest and proceeds on the Russian assets. After two years of the Russian war in Ukraine, these add up to several billion already but nothing like the full $300bn. But there is a precedent here when in 1991 the UN Security Council blocked for years Iraq’s financial assets to pay for its Oil for Food Programme to bring humanitarian aid to Iraq’s civilians.

Finally, it is not Russian opposition leaders that will bring about the end of the Putin regime but Ukrainians resisting the Russian invasion of their country. A Russian defeat in Ukraine, after massive casualties and damage to the Russian economy, offers the best near-term hope of destabilising the Putin regime and turning latent popular disaffection with that regime into active protests on the streets. So, the best way to honour Navalny is to arm the Ukrainians. We are at a crucial moment here. Ukraine has been forced to surrender the town of Adviivka to Russian forces because of a shortage of ammunition. It now faces the grim task of defending a 1200-km front line against further assaults by Russia seeking to exploit its current 8-to-1 superiority in artillery and shells. It can only be hoped that the Ukrainian setbacks, Russian plans to put nuclear weapons into space and Navalny’s death would push Republicans in the House of Representatives to finally approve a supplementary aid package of $61bn for Ukraine, a package already approved by the Senate. At the recent Munich Security Conference, there was some good news for Zelensky and his soldiers with France and Germany agreeing to 10-year bilateral security assistance packages for Kyiv and Denmark announcing that it would transfer all its ammunition stocks to the Ukrainian military. But in terms of keeping Ukraine in the fight and Putin away from NATO, US assistance is the critical element. Europe is stepping up but cannot do it all by itself. To help Ukraine is the best way to ensure that Navalny did not die in vain. 

To call a €61bn aid package the ‘Navalny Bill’ is probably not a title that Alexei Navalny would have approved of as it would hardly have endeared him to his Russian audiences. Even opponents of Putin can be susceptible to false patriotism. Yet Navalny’s dream of “a beautiful Russia” can only be achieved with the enduring defeat of Russian militarism and turning its back on imperial delusions. Only the Ukrainians can make that happen notwithstanding Navalny’s heroic efforts to convince his Russian compatriots to achieve this by themselves.

This article is part of Friends of Europe’s Ukraine Initiative series, find out more here. The views expressed in this #CriticalThinking article reflect those of the author(s) and not of Friends of Europe.