The Argument Nadezhda Tolokonnikova Wasn’t Allowed to Make at Her Parole Hearing

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Yesterday, April 26, 2013, a district court in Zubova Polyana, Mordovia, denied imprisoned Pussy Riot activist Nadezhda Tolokonnikova’s request for parole. According to Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, Judge Lidiya Yakovleva agreed with arguments made by prison authorities that it would be “premature” to release Tolokonnikova given that she “had been cited for prison rules violations and expressed no remorse,” and had not participated in such prison activities as the “Miss Charm Prison Camp 14 beauty contest.” Judge Yakovleva made her ruling without allowing the defense to make a closing argument, thus allegedly violating the Criminal Procedure Code. Tolokonnikova had written her statement out in advance. The translation below is of the Russian original as published in full on the web site of RFE/RL’s Russian Service (Radio Svoboda). Photos courtesy of the Free Pussy Riot Facebook page.

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“Has the convict started down the road to rehabilitation?” This is the question asked when a request for parole is reviewed. I would also like us to ask the following question today: What is  this “road to rehabilitation”?

I am absolutely convinced that the only correct road is one on which a person is honest with others and with herself. I have stayed on this road and will not stray from it wherever life takes me. I insisted on this road while I was still on the outside, and I didn’t retreat from it in the Moscow pretrial detention facility. Nothing, not even the camps of Mordovia, where the Soviet-era authorities liked to send political prisoners, can teach me to betray the principle of honesty.

So I have not admitted and will not admit the guilt imputed to me by the Khamovniki district court’s verdict, which was illegal and rendered with an indecent number of procedural violations. At the moment, I am in the process of appealing this verdict in the higher courts. By coercing me into admitting guilt for the sake of parole, the correctional system is pushing me to incriminate myself, and, therefore, to lie. Is the ability to lie a sign that a person has started down the road to rehabilitation?

It states in my sentence that I am a feminist and, therefore, must feel hatred towards religion. Yes, after a year and two months in prison, I am still a feminist, and I am still opposed to the people in charge of the state, but then as now there is no hatred in me. The dozens of women prisoners with whom I attend the Orthodox church at Penal Colony No. 14 cannot see this hatred, either.

What else do I do in the colony? I work: soon after I arrived at Penal Colony No. 14, they put me behind a sewing machine, and now I am a sewing machine operator. Some believe that making political-art actions is easy, that it requires no deliberation or preparation. Based on my years of experience in actionism, I can say that carrying out an action and thinking through the artistic end-product is laborious and often exhausting work. So I know how to work and I love to work. I’m no stranger to the Protestant work ethic. Physically, I don’t find it hard to be a seamstress. And that is what I am. I do everything required of me. But, of course, I cannot help thinking about things while I’m at the sewing machine (including the road to rehabilitation) and, therefore, asking myself questions. For example: why can convicts not be given a choice as to the socially useful work they perform while serving their sentences? [Why can they not chose work] in keeping with their education and interests? Since I have experience teaching in the philosophy department at Moscow State University, I would gladly and enthusiastically put together educational programs and lectures using the books in the library and books sent to me. And by the way, I would unquestioningly do such work for more than the eight hours [a day] stipulated by the Russian Federation Labor Code; I would do this work during all the time left over from scheduled prison activities. Instead, I sew police pants, which of course is also useful, but in this work I’m obviously not as productive as I could be were I conducting educational programs.

In Cancer Ward, Solzhenitsyn describes how a prison camp detective stops one convict from teaching another convict Latin. Unfortunately, the overall attitude to education hasn’t changed much since then.

I often fantasize: what if the correctional system made its priority not the production of police pants or production quotas, but the education, training, and rehabilitation of convicts, as required by the Correctional Code? Then, in order to get parole, you would not have to sew 16 hours a day in the industrial section of the colony, trying to achieve 150% output, but successfully pass several exams after broadening your horizons and knowledge of the world, and getting a general humanities education, which nurtures the ability to adequately assess contemporary reality. I would very much like to see this state of affairs in the colony.

Why not establish courses on contemporary art in the colony?

Would that work were not a debt, but activity that was spiritual and useful in a poetic sense. Would that the organizational constraints and inertia of the old system were overcome, and values like individuality could be instilled in the workplace. The prison camp is the face of the country, and if we managed to get beyond the old conservative and totally unifying categories even in the prison camp, then throughout Russia we would see the growth of intellectual, high-tech manufacturing, something we would all like to see in order to break out of the natural resources trap. Then something like Silicon Valley could be born in Russia, a haven for risky and talented people. All this would be possible if the panic experienced in Russia at the state level towards human experimentation and creativity would give way to an attentive and respectful attitude towards the individual’s creative and critical potential. Tolerance towards others and respect for diversity provide an environment conducive to the development and productive use of the talent inherent in citizens (even if these citizens are convicts). Repressive conservation and rigidity in the legal, correctional, and other state systems of the Russian Federation, laws on registration [of one’s residence] and promotion of homosexuality lead to stagnation and a “brain drain.”

However, I am convinced that this senseless reaction in which we now forced to live is temporary. It is mortal, and this mortality is immediate. I am also certain that all of us—including the prisoners of Bolotnaya Square, my brave comrade in arms Maria Alyokhina, and Alexei Navalny—have the strength, commitment, and tenacity to survive this reaction and emerge victorious.

I am truly grateful to the people I have encountered in my life behind barbed wire. Thanks to some of them, I will never call my time in prison time lost. During the year and two months of my imprisonment, I have not had a single conflict, either in the pretrial detention facility or in prison. Not a single one. In my opinion, this shows that I am perfectly safe for any society. And also the fact that people do not buy into state media propaganda and are not willing to hate me just because a federal channel said that I’m a bad person. Lying does not always lead to victory.

Recently, I got a letter containing a parable that has become important to me. What happens to things different in nature when they are placed in boiling water? Brittle things, like eggs, become hard. Hard things, like carrots, become soft. Coffee dissolves and permeates everything. The point of the parable was this: be like coffee. In prison, I am like that coffee.

I want the people who have put me and dozens of other political activists behind bars to understand one simple thing: there are no insurmountable obstacles for a person whose values  consist, first, in her principles and, second, in work and creativity based on these principles. If you strongly believe in something, this faith will help you survive and remain a human being anywhere.

I will surely use my experience in Mordovia in my future work and, although this will not happen until completion of my sentence, I will implement it in projects that will be stronger and politically larger in scale than everything that has happened to me before.

Despite the fact that imprisonment is a quite daunting experience, as a result of having it we political prisoners only become stronger, braver, and more tenacious. And so I ask the last question for today: what, then, is the point of keeping us here?

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Translated by The Russian Reader

Andrei Otraskin & Jungle

Jungle, “The Shore,” featuring Andrei Otraskin on guitar. “Musical Ring,” Leningrad TV, 1989

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Jungle was formed in 1983 in Leningrad Rock Club’s new wave milieu, continuing a local tradition of giving groups names that had to with animals and domestication. Jungle, known as Джунгли (Dzhungli) in Russia, was an exception among Aquarium, Zoo (aka Zoopark) and other prominent underground groups in Leningrad in another respect: its music was purely instrumental and its musicians cited European ”avant-progressive” Rock In Opposition musicians and American proponents of Ornette Coleman’s harmolodics as their influences instead of The Velvet Underground or British new wave groups. More canonical names they mentioned were King Crimson and Oregon, which both can be heard in Jungle’s early music – Robert Fripp in its dark angularity, and Oregon in its beautiful melodicism, though contorted by a youthful punk urgency and recklessness.

The punk urgency and recklessness of the Soviet 1980s new wave groups can mostly be heard in the live recordings of the time. Studio recordings, especially in those rare cases when they were done in professional studios, tended to be sterile and timid, perhaps as a consequence of a striving for a polished, ”professional” sound, inexperience of sound engineers with this kind of music, lack of producers or audience feedback, or all these combined.

Audience feedback and excitement around the rare rock concerts was tangible. Since the 1950’s the state institutions had variously tried to ban, suppress or domesticate rock music, deemed ”anti-Soviet” in its content as well as animalistic and base by the guardians of the near-Victorian morality of the time. In March 1985 the situation was still very much in check despite the fact the Leningrad Rock Club, the centre of the nation’s rock activity, was able to hold its third annual festival in a 600-seat concert hall just a few hundred meters off the city’s main street Nevsky Prospekt. The Leningrad Rock Club was a rarity in the whole country: a rock musicians’ organisation run by musicians themselves together with officials of the club’s concert hall. It is still a moot point to what extent the KGB had been involved in the foundation of the club in 1981, how much its constant monitoring influenced the music and how much the musicians could guess about its presence. Whatever the answers to these questions are, practically nothing in the Soviet Union could be organised without the watchful eye of the secret police, and the point was in ignoring it, testing limits or sometimes winning micro power struggles.

While these struggles were palpable in and around the lyrics of other Leningrad groups like Aquarium, Zoopark, Televizor or Kino, they also extended to titles of Jungle’s compositions, such as ”Conformism” or ”The War of All Against All”, and their interviews in which they spoke of their ”fight against conformism”. Another trait shared by the early lineups of most of these groups was the presence of both virtuosos and non-musicians who could barely play their instruments in the conventional sense, but who brought grit, avantgarde ideas, or at least a whiff of anarchy into the proceedings. 

Jungle went through endless lineup changes during its entire existence from late 1983 until early 1991, with only two constant members: Andrei Otraskin, the guitarist and composer of the group, and bass player Igor Tikhomirov. A major turning point for the group occured in late 1987, when Otraskin was baptized an Orthodox Christian and ”denounced Jungle’s earlier output as demonic,” as he wrote us now in correspondence concerning the release of ”Live in Leningrad”. Tikhomirov left Jungle in late 1990 after having played simultaneously in Kino, arguably the most popular Russian rock band ever, and joined later the equally popular DDT. In the summer of 1991 Otraskin emigrated to the USA, where he formed the duo Guitar Monks with Timothy Young and released a CD called ”Songs For Oblivion” in 2000.

In 2007, the Moscow label Geometry released the double CD ”Spring In Shanghai/Six Coachmen From Casablanca”, which collects all of Jungle’s studio recordings, including the LP ”Spring In Shanghai” released by the Soviet label Melodiya in 1989. “Live in Leningrad” (usually known as “Live at Leningrad Rock Club Festival 1985”) as well as several other live recordings have circulated in Russia as bootleg cassettes, CD-R’s and recently as mp3’s. So far there is virtually no information about Jungle in English on the internet, but for Russian readers the Wikipedia article about the group will give more pointers.

source: http://www.nbresearchdigest.com/leningrad/. NB. There are several free (and out of this world) Jungle tracks available for listening (and purchase) at this link!

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Guitar Monks (Andrei Otraskin & Timothy Young), “Tulips and Palominos,”
October 10, 2002, Seattle

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Jungle, “Spring in Shanghai” and “Requiem.”
Winter Stadium and Leningrad Rock Club, Leningrad, 1988

Who Are We? We’re the Russians!

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Who are we?                Russians!

What do we want?                To live better than everyone!

What are we doing about it?              Nothing!

Who’s to blame?              The government, the church, and the wogs!

Thanks to Comrade Igor for the heads-up.

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We had a very good farewell for the latest director of the German Naumann Foundation (the foundation of the Free Democratic Party of Germany). And he said a very apt thing, “When I was getting ready to come to Russia, I was told that Russians were very good-natured, very hospitable, very responsive, very sociable people, who were comfortable to live with and who were very open. As I get ready to leave the country three years later, I can say this is not true. Russians are individualists and quite aggressive. When you’re on the street, in a room, wherever you are you feel this aggression. And it is quite discomfiting.”

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Don’t Leave the Room

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Don’t leave the room, don’t make the mistake and run.
If you smoke Shipkas, why do you need Suns?
Things are silly out there, especially the happy clucks.
Just go to the john, and come right back.

Oh, don’t leave the room, don’t ring for a car.
Because space consists of a corridor
And ends with a counter. And should a floozy slip in,
Flashing her teeth, make her scram without stripping.

Don’t leave the room, feign that you’ve caught a chill.
What could be more fun than four walls and a chair?
Why leave this place only to come back late in
The evening same as you were, moreover, mutilated?

Oh, don’t leave the room. Dance the bossa nova
In shoes but no socks, a coat over your naked bod.
The hallway reeks of ski wax and cabbage.
You wrote a lot of letters: one more would be too much.

Don’t leave the room. Oh, just let the room imagine
What you look like. And generally, incognito
Ergo sum, as form was told in anger by substance.
Don’t leave the room! Methinks out there it ain’t France.

Don’t be a fool! Don’t be like the others.
Don’t leave the room! I.e., let the furniture have its druthers,
Blend in with the wallpaper. Lock up and let the armoire
Keep chronos, cosmos, eros, race, and virus from getting in the door.

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