Navalny's Near Miss

Alexei Navalny, the opposition politician, the person whose name President Putin never utters, nearly became mayor of Moscow. Well, in any event, he nearly passed to the second round of voting against incumbent Sergei Sobyanin. He fell just 1.7 percent short, while independent observers estimated that dishonest voting practices delivered 3-4 percent of votes to Sobyanin.

Navalny’s election campaign may well go into the history books of PR, advertising and political activism. And just in the history books more generally. For Navalny was hemmed in on all sides. He was not allowed to advertise on Moscow city billboards. All the transport companies refused to work with him, as did the television and radio channels. And yet he managed to increase in popularity over the course of July and August – vacation months in the capital.

Banners with Navalny’s name appeared on apartment building balconies, and the poor dvorniki were ordered to cut them down, dangling themselves from the upper stories of their buildings.

Lots of people stuck Navalny’s campaign stickers on their cars, bags, coats and computers. Cars bearing the stickers had their windows bashed in or their tires slashed, yet people kept pasting on the stickers nonetheless.

It was all unbelievably interesting, lively and cheering, but for the fact that Navalny was being threatened with a prison term. Hundreds of young kids did not leave the Navalny campaign headquarters for days at a time, laboring away at all sorts of new means of agitation – on the internet and even, something completely unusual for Navalny, offline.

I worked with the campaign, setting up a teachers’ “Circle” to discuss education issues on film with the candidate. Not a single teacher refused to take part, while in other professional Circles people suddenly got “sick” or simply honestly said they were afraid, or that their bosses would not allow it. The teachers arrived and spoke eloquently (bit.ly/navalnyeduc).

Yet I have to say that what impressed me most about the entire campaign was Navalny’s professionalism. When we were taping the discussion with teachers, the campaign was at its peak of activity. Navalny was going flat out. After several meetings with voters, he appeared in an evening televised debate, then late at night he received the list I had compiled for him about the problems in Moscow education. At 7:30 the next morning he was in the studio, taping a discussion with doctors, then an hour and a half later he met with me to discussion my summary.

As a teacher, I can say that I was frankly astonished at how quickly he grasped the essential points and got his bearings in a subject area that was clearly not his specialty. What is more, I understood that Navalny knew how to listen – a truly rare quality among politicians, who tend to treat the time their interlocutor is speaking as simply a pause in their own speech.

It is unbelievably sad that such a small number of votes was lacking. It is sad that the turnout was so low. And yet, what Navalny succeeded in doing among Muscovites cannot be undone.

Thousands of people woke up and took part in politics. Hundreds of young kids became civil activists. And it is likely for this reason that, at the meeting after the election, there were no sad or disconcerting speeches. In fact, soon after the election, a new issue of Navalny’s newspaper was released with the headline, “It is all only beginning!”

August 4, 2013.*

I exit the metro today and stumble upon Navalny speaking in the square. About 150 people are listening to him. Not far away – about 40 meters – stand a 19-year-old, red-cheeked, sweat-covered policeman and a well-nourished, as if in caricature of a priest, senior lieutenant, if I am not mistaken (red stripe on his shoulder boards and three stars). Uncertain and afraid, he whispers into his radio.

“He’s here... that one... he’s here... well... he’s speaking... sort of... well, speaking. And they are... Listening...”

From over the radio: “Who is listening?”

“The people.”

“What sort? Who? How many of them?”

“I can’t say.”

“Why?”

“I can’t see from here.”

“Go closer.”

“I can’t”

“Why?”

“They’ll notice me.”

“Is he still talking?”

“Yes. He’s taking about cops.”

“About you?”

“About us.”

“About you specifically, or about the police?”

“About the police.”

“What’s he saying?”

“He’s talking about corruption.”

“About what?”

“About corruption.”

“What is he saying, specifically?”

“He says that it exists.”

“What else does he say?”

“He says that no one knows what Sobyanin’s wife looks like.”

“What does Sobyanin’s wife have to do with anything?”

“Comrade major, I don’t know why he’s speaking about Sobyanin’s wife, I missed it.”

* A comment from reader ptitzin discovered on the blog politota.d3.ru