Alexander Krichevsky of Izhevsk: Six Years in Prison for a Comment

In September 2024, Alexander Krichevsky, a 58-year-old resident of Izhevsk, posted a lengthy comment on a Chechen opposition blogger’s Telegram channel. In the comment, Krichevsky compared Putin and the “FSB clique” to a “darkness” which must be destroyed. The security forces deemed this statement incitement to murder the president and FSB officers. They monitored the man and intercepted his internet traffic. Last December, Krichevsky was detained and remanded in custody to a pretrial detention center despite his ailments and the fact that he is confined to a wheelchair. His ailing mother was placed in a care home, where she died a month later. Today, at the Central District Military Court in Yekaterinburg, where Krichevsky’s case is being heard, the prosecutor requested that he be given the maximum sentence of six years in prison.

“That is why we listen to him, because he is not afraid—he’s a ray of freedom in a kingdom of darkness! And only together will we destroy this darkness, only when we understand that we have only one enemy—Putin and his FSB clique. . . . Both you and we must destroy this enemy to continue living as peaceful neighbors,” 58-year-old Izhevsk resident Alexander Krichevsky wrote in a chat on the channel of opposition Chechen blogger Tumso Abdurakhmanov aka Abu Saddam Shishani, on 11 September 2024.

This was Krichevsky’s response to a user who had asked Abdurakhmanov himself in a chat: “Tumso, aren’t you afraid that Kadyrov’s people might find you?”

When questioned in court, Krichevsky said that he was sure he was responding to the user personally, not writing in a public chat. He repeated many times that he had only figurative “destruction” in mind and had been trying to “reconcile” Abdurakhmanov’s readership by pointing out that they had only one enemy.

“Of course, I wasn’t even thinking about physically destroying such a large number of people and didn’t understand how [what I wrote] would even look. Apparently, my love for pretty words—all those rays of light and other nonsense—let me down. I was thinking in terms of games: when a person plays checkers or chess, they destroy their opponent’s pieces. Roughly speaking, that was the image I had in my head,” Krichevsky said in court.

The FSB operative who discovered Krichevsky’s comment saw it not as criticism alone, but also as a “public call to murder the president of the Russian Federation and officers of the Federal Security Service.”

The same conclusion was reached by Polina Komova, a philologist and expert at the Ministry of Internal Affairs Forensic Center in Udmurtia. She acknowledged in court that the word “destroy” could have other meanings “depending on the context,” but in her opinion it could be understood only in its literal meaning—that is, “to end [someone’s] existence, to exterminate”—in Krichevsky’s comment.

“He was planning a terrorist attack involving self-detonation”: wiretapping and arrest

The security forces began monitoring Krichevsky in early December 2024. It emerged in court that the FSB had requested data on his calls and connections from Rostelecom and learned that on 11 September, when he wrote the comment, he had accessed Telegram from home. Megafon provided the security forces with information about the base stations in the area where Krichevsky’s phone number pinged that day.

On 5 December 2024, the Supreme Court of Udmurtia gave the FSB permission to tap Krichevsky’s phones, and a few days later it approved “gathering information from technical communication channels and acquiring computer information.” A few days before Krichevsky’s arrest, operatives monitored his apartment to “document illegal activities.” The report states that Krichevsky did not leave his home.

On 19 December 2024, Krichevsky was detained and sent to a pretrial detention center. He described his arrest to journalists.

“There was a knock on the door at seven in the morning, and seven people came into [our] small flat: five FSB officers and two eyewitnesses. I opened the door myself. They immediately sat me down on a chair in the hallway. My ailing mother was lying there, barely alive. They said, ‘Can you hand over [your phone]?’ They tried to intimidate me once: ‘If you refuse, we’ll take you away and charge you with additional offenses.’ I realized that resistance was futile. I gave them the phone, and they looked at it and took what they needed.”

The social media comment charges against Krichevsky were accompanied by an FSB report containing much more serious, but in effect unproven, allegations. The document states that, according to “intelligence,” Krichevsky, who opposes the “state’s political course” and the conduct of the “special military operation,” supported radical Islamists fighting for Ukraine and was planning to convert to Islam and carry out a terrorist attack in Udmurtia “by blowing himself up with cooking gas.” The court never did hear what this report was based on.

“None of my comments or my own thoughts bear this out. When I heard this business about blowing myself up . . . In this case, everything that the prosecutor has just read aloud is pure speculation on the part of the investigators. None of my quotes corroborates it,” Krichevsky said in court.

Judge Alexander Raitsky simply reminded Krichevsky that the case centered on a single [social media] comment, which the defendant himself did not disput, and that the court would evaluate the evidence in the deliberation room.

The case file also contains another comment by Krichevsky from the same written exchange: “Many empires have collapsed in this world. I myself foresee the end of the Russkies [rusnya]. I don’t feel sorry for them: let them collapse with a bang. That’s where they belong. I myself hate these FSBniks, pigs [cops], and other scum who suck the blood of our homeland and shit on our neighbors.”

The security forces deemed this “a statement containing a negative assessment of the group of persons sharing the profession of Federal Security Service officers and police officers,” but it was not included in the indictment.

Responding to the judge’s question about this comment, Krichevsky said that he sometimes tried to “adapt” to the rude tone of the conversation [on the Telegram channel’s chat].

“My mother died four weeks after my arrest”: wheelchair-bound in a detention center

Krichevsky had worked as a systems administrator in Izhevsk before his arrest.

As a child, Krichevsky had moved with his family from Udmurtia to Rostov-on-Don. After high school, he enrolled in medical school, but in 1989 he broke his spine and had to drop out because his left leg was paralyzed and he had lost feeling in his right leg. After a long period of rehabilitation, he was able to walk again, but was unable to recover fully: he had a severe limp and had difficulty going up stairs.

Krichevsky said in court that his father had committed suicide on 11 September 2008.

“He had terminal cancer. He was in serious pain and turned to me because I was in medical school. He wanted me to tell him what poison he could use to commit suicide. I refused to do it. Then, two days before his death, I noticed he was sharpening a knife in an odd way. He died in a rather original way, if that word is appropriate in this situation—he stabbed himself in the heart with a knife,” Krichevsky told the court.

In early 2010, during a trip to Thailand, Krichevsky broke his left leg, which had been paralyzed since his [accident in 1989]. He underwent surgery at a local hospital, but he could not stay in hospital for long because his visa had expired. Krichevsky returned to his hometown of Izhevsk, where he underwent a second operation, but his condition only worsened.

“My knee wouldn’t straighten. They tried to do something about it, but because I had spinal injuries, my knee spasmed, and it remained crooked and they couldn’t do anything about it. And my hip didn’t recover either; I also had a fractured hip,” Krichevsky told the court.

Since then, Krichevsky has been confined to a wheelchair. Other ailments have also emerged: kidney problems, emphysema, and head tremors.

“I don’t know whether it’s early Parkinson’s combined with Alzheimer’s, or something else,” Krichevsky said.

Krichevsky had been living with his elderly mother and caring for her since 2016. Last year, she was hospitalized with a complex fracture. After she was discharged, she was unable to walk, and Krichevsky would help her to sit up and do breathing exercises in order to prevent pulmonary edema and bedsores. After Krichevsky was arrested, the woman was sent to a care home. She died of a pulmonary edema a month later.

“They apparently left her lying in bed at the care home. When a person lies in a horizontal position for a long time, they develop a pulmonary edema. That’s what my mother died of,” he said in court.

While in pretrial detention, Krichevsky formally lost his Group I disability status, which he had prior to his arrest, and so he was unable to obtain a medical examination.

According to Krichevsky, a neurologist at the Izhevsk detention center promised to send him to a hospital, but instead Krichevsky was transferred to another pretrial detention center. “I thought they were taking me to a hospital, but they took me first to Perm and then to Yekaterinburg. They basically lied to me when they said they were taking me to a hospital,” he said on the stand.

Krichevskny never did get any medical attention: “We’ll only help you if you’re dying, [they said.] Otherwise, just sit there and suffer.”

“Radical views and hostility toward the current government”: trial and pleadings

Krichevsky’s trial was postponed five times in a row: it took a long time to bring him in his wheelchair, first to Detention Center No. 1 in Yekaterinburg, and then to the court. He was brought to the hearings late, and had to spend four to five hours in the police van, where, according to Krichevsky, the temperature was the same as outside.

At the beginning of the trial, Krichevsky filed a motion requesting that he be assigned an inpatient forensic examination and treatment. He said that he had never been examined by a neurologist at the Yekaterinburg detention center, only by a GP. He was taken for examination to the local medical unit, which was not equipped for people with disabilities: there was a “big step” in front of the toilet and sink which he could not get over. As a result, the doctors only checked his reflexes and sent him back.

In their medical report, the doctors at the detention center stated that Krichevsky had no disability and that his overall health was satisfactory, meaning that he was able to take part in the court hearings.

Before the proceedings, Krichevsky again requested to be sent for treatment, “in accordance with the neurologist’s recommendation” in Izhevsk, but Judge Raitsky denied the request, seeing no need for it. Prosecutor Artem Terentyev also asked that the request be denied, as it went “beyond the scope of the criminal case under consideration.”

During the trial, the prosecutor asked that Krichevsky be imprisoned for six years in a medium-security penal colony. The prosecutor stressed that the defendant had “radical views” and was “hostile toward the current government of the Russian Federation and its officials,” and that he had written the offending comment at a time when the mobilization had not yet been completed. The prosecutor considered these to be aggravating circumstances.

The prosecutor cited Krichevsky’s “poor health” as a mitigating circumstance.

You can support Alexander by writing him a letter.

Address:
Russian Federation 620019 FKU SIZO-1, GUFSIN of Russia for the Sverdlovsk Region
Sverdlovsk Region, Yekaterinburg, Repin Street, 4
Alexander Anatolyevich Krichevsky, born 1967

You can also send letters through the online service Zonatelecom.

Source: Vasily Besspalyi, “Wheelchair user from Izhevsk sentenced to six years in prison for comment about Putin; his mother, sent to nursing home after his arrest, dies a month later,” Mediazona, 22 December 2025. Translated by the Russian Reader. Since letters to Russian prisoners are vetted by prison censors, they must be written in Russian or translated into Russian, something that can done more or less handily using an online machine translator like Google Translate. Please write to me if you need help or advice. ||||| TRR

Timofey Anufriev Dies Fighting for Ukraine

The name of the beautiful young woman in this photo, taken a month ago in Odessa, is Katya, and she is the mother of a wonderful young man, Timofey Anufriev, a Russian passport holder who went to war to defend Ukraine. Today we received news that he has been killed. You can learn more about him in the film to which I’ve linked in the comments. And try to think hard about [the difference between mere] words and real actions… May the memory of the heroes live forever!

Source: Vitaliy Manski (Facebook), 6 January 2026. Translated by the Russian Reader

The Insider, “‘War is like playing chess with death’: Confessions of a philosophy student from the RVC” (in Russian, no subtitles)

Until recently, 21-year-old Timofey Anufriev (son of the renowned artist Sergei Anufriev) was an ordinary university student in Petersburg. For over a year, though, he has been fighting for Ukraine in the ranks of RVC (Russian Volunteer Corps). Our film crew met with him in Kiev. Timofey talks about why he made this decision and about war and death in this report by The Insider.

Source: The Insider (YouTube), 20 March 2025. Annotation translated by the Russian Reader. There is an egregiously machine-translated and machine-dubbed version of this same film which can be viewed here. |||| TRR

[The] 22-year-old Russian-Ukrainian fighter Timofey ‘Aeneas‘ Anufriev was kіlled in action while defending his second homeland.

“Timofey participated in many of the Corps‘ operations: assaults, cleanups, and capturing prisoners. He lived and dіеd like a true knight and poet, in a blaze of fiery glory! <…> Forever in the RVC, forever in the ranks!” the Corps wrote on its Telegram channel.

Anufriev served as a stormtrooper and had the call sign ‘Enei’ [Aeneas]. He was awarded the medal ‘For Assistance to Military Intelligence of Ukraine.’

“The son of a well-known conceptual artist [Sergei Anufriev], born in Moscow and raised in Odesa, Enei regarded both Ukraine and Russia as countries close to him. Highly intelligent and well-educated, open and kind, he sought to contribute to the Corps not only in combat but also beyond the battlefield.

From an early age, Enei was familiar with the cultural circles of two capitals. Unlike the detached, insular segment of the artistic elite that exists removed from reality, he was deeply concerned about the fate of his people.

The outbreak of the war coincided with his first year at university in Saint Petersburg, where he studied philosophy and planned to become a public intellectual. He was disturbed by the way many around him in Russia pretended that nothing was happening. As a result, he decided first to leave the country and later to join the Russian Volunteer Corps.

“There is always a choice,” Enei believed—and he made one guided by his sense of honor. Throughout his combat service, he served as an assault infantryman, one of the most dangerous roles in war.

He took part in numerous operations, including assaults, clearing operations, and the capture of enemy personnel. He lived—and died—in accordance with his convictions.” wrote RVC on its nocturnal post.

Source: ukrainciaga.international (Instagram), 6 January 2025

The son of a famous conceptual artist, he was born in Moscow and grew up in Odessa. Aeneas considered Ukraine and Russia to be his home countries. An exceptionally intelligent and educated, open and kind person, he sought to benefit the Corps not only in battle, but also beyond it.

From childhood, Aeneas was familiar with the cultural bohemian scene of the two capitals, but he was not part of the abstract and “airy” artistic elite that exists detached from reality. On the contrary, he was deeply concerned about the fate of his people.

The war began during his first year at university in St. Petersburg, where he studied philosophy and planned to become a public philosopher. He was disgusted by the fact that many of his peers in the Russian Federation pretended that nothing was happening. Therefore, he decided to first leave Russia and then join the Russian Volunteer Corps.

“There is always a choice,” Eney believed, and he made a choice dictated by honor. He spent his entire military career as an assault soldier — the most dangerous job in the war.

He participated in many operations of the Corps: he stormed, cleared, and took prisoners. He lived and died like a true knight and poet, in the rays of fiery glory!

He was awarded the medal “For Assistance to Military Intelligence of Ukraine.”

Timofey “Aeneas” Anufriev

Forever in the RVC!
Forever in the ranks!

Source: Russian Volunteer Corps Eng (Telegram), 6 January 2026

The Story of Gordey Nikitin: 17 Years for “High Treason”

I am going to tell you about a political prisoner who seemingly no one has written about yet. I came across information about him quite by accident.

His name is Gordey Nikitin. Thirty-two years old and a native of Ryazan, Gordey worked at an oil refinery before his arrest. According to Gordey, he has been interested in politics and held opposition views since 2014. When the full-scale war [against Ukraine] broke out, Gordey went into shock. He was in this state of shock when he wrote several comments on Telegram.

As Gordey found out when reviewing the files in his criminal case, it was precisely because of these comments that, three years later, FSB officers would come after him, calling him on Telegram and introducing themselves as Ukrainian intelligence.

A few conversations with the “GUR” (actually, with the FSB) sufficed to charge him with and convict him of high treason and sentence him to seventeen (17) years in a maximum security penitentiary facility.

Gordey did not testify at his trial and he refused to make a closing statement to the court. He also did not bother to appeal the verdict, and so he will soon be transferred to a penal colony.

Gordey is currently being held in a remand prison in the town of Ryazhsk, Ryazan Region. He writes that the worst thing about the remand prison is the library: “Mostly third-rate military science fiction.” In the eight months he has spent in the prison, Gordey has only come across six decent books—by Remarque, Dostoevsky, and Chuck Palahniuk.

You can write a letter to Gordey. And if you use a digital service, a New Year’s miracle may occur, and he will receive the letter on January 30. In the worst case, it will arrive after the holidays.

Write to Gordey at the following address:

Russian Federation 391999 Ryazhsk, Ryazan Oblast • ul. Krasnaya, d. 1a, SIZO-2 • Nikitin Gordey Andreyevich (d.o.b. 28.09.1993)

You can also send letters through the online services F-Pismo, Zonatelecom, and PrisonMail.Online (the last should be used by foreign bankcard holders).

Source: Ivan Astashin (Facebook), 26 December 2025. Translated by the Russian Reader. Since letters to Russian prisoners are vetted by prison censors, they must be written in Russian or translated into Russian, something that can done more or less decently using an online machine translator like Google Translate. ||||| TRR

On 22 February [2023], scheduled tactical and drill exercises were held at Ryazhsk Remand Prison No. 2 (Ryazan Region, Russian Federal Penitentiary Service).

Remand prison staff practiced negotiating procedures, organizing combat groups, dealing with the aftermath of mass disobedience, and repelling attacks on the correctional facility.

The exercises were observed by Young Army cadets from Ryazhsk High School No. 3. Remand prison staff showed the kids their weapons and equipment. The boys and girls were able to try on bulletproof vests and hold automatic rifles and pistols. At the end of the tour, the schoolchildren were treated to hot porridge and tea.

“Today, the students got a closer look at the penal system,” said Alexei Ogurtsov, acting chief warden at Remand Prison No. 2. “Our staff demonstrated their professional skills, equipment, and weapons to the students and answered their questions. Perhaps some of them will choose to enlist in our service in the future.”

Source: “Ryazhsk Youth Army Visits Remand Prison,” Izdatelstvo “Pressa,” 24 February 2023. Translated by the Russian Reader

“Try Me for Treason”: Londoners Stand in Solidarity with Imprisoned Opponents of Russia’s War in Ukraine

“Try me for treason. I betrayed your deranged state”, the Russian anti-war protester Andrei Trofimov told the Second Western District Military Court in May.

In 2023, Trofimov was sentenced to ten years’ imprisonment, for opposing Russia’s war in Ukraine in social media posts, and trying to join the Free Russia Legion that fights on Ukraine’s side. At that hearing, Trofimov said he hoped for Ukraine’s victory, and called president Putin “a dickhead”.

On the basis of that statement alone, he was further accused of “justifying terrorism” and defaming the Russian army. For those “crimes”, the judge at the hearing in May this year, Vadim Krasnov, added three years to Trofimov’s sentence.

Before sentencing, Trofimov told the court that he had not justified terrorism, but supported the Ukrainian armed forces’ legitimate military actions against aggression, and had not defamed the Russian army whose actions were unconstitutional and illegal. He told the court that he considered himself guilty of a much more serious crime: treason – taking the enemy’s side in war.

Excerpts from the speeches by Trofimov and three other anti-war protesters were read out in London last month, at a launch event for the book Voices Against Putin’s War: Protesters’ Defiant Speeches in Russian Courts. I said a few words about the book, which I edited.

Here’s a film of the event.

Ukraine Information Group, “Try Me For Treason (readings from anti-war protesters’ speeches in Russian courts),” 7 December 2025

And there will be another chance to hear these powerful readings in London – on Thursday 5 February 2026, 6:30 p.m., at Birkbeck College. Here are the details.

You can order copies of Voices Against Putin’s War, or download a free pdf, here.

We published the book against the background of repeated claims that a peace agreement is about to be signed between Russia and Ukraine. These are louder than ever after this week’s talks in Berlin. At the time of writing this, it is not clear to me that the Kremlin is really interested in stopping the war, or what the “security guarantees” being offered to Ukraine actually mean.

I would recommend following the excellent arguments made about the peace process by Oleksandr Kyselov (most recently here, also here and here), Hanna Perekhoda (who writes on Facebook here), and other Ukrainian socialist writers.

If you want to know why the 20% of Donbas that Ukraine still controls matters so much, this comment by the Institute for the Study of War is worth reading. This speech by Valery Zaluzhny helps us understand what the Ukrainian political elite thinks.

Whatever the outcome of the talks now in progress, if any, the defence of victims of Russia’s military occupation of Ukrainian territory, and domestic political repression, will remain a central issue for our movement, right across Europe.

Source: Simon Pirani, “Try Me for Treason,” People and Nature, 21 December 2025

A Documentary Film about Pavel Kushnir

Kushnir (2025), a film about the late pianist and antiwar protester Pavel Kushnir (in Russian and English, with subtitles)

Pavel Kushnir was a virtuoso pianist, a writer, and a courageous man whom the world discovered only too late. He died on July 27, 2024, in a Birobidzhan detention center following a dry hunger strike. The formal pretext for his arrest was a series of anti-war videos posted on a YouTube channel that had only 5 subscribers.

This film is an attempt to understand the man who played Rachmaninoff until his fingers bled, who dreamed of flying to Mars, who idolized Kurt Cobain, and who called the war by its true name while living in complete isolation.

We have gathered archival footage, previously unknown recordings of Pavel, fragments of his poignant cut-up novel, and memories from close friends and colleagues, including Clean Bandit soloist Grace Chatto, music expert Mikhail Kazinik, and publisher Dmitry Volchek. This is a story not just about a death in prison, but about an extraordinary life that became an act of art and resistance.

In this video:

Unique footage of Kushnir’s performances and artistic actions.

The story of an unmade avant-garde film and friendships with global stars.

The Birobidzhan Diary: a chronicle of loneliness and the fight against fascism.

Why a brilliant musician went unnoticed by the cultural establishment, but not by the prison system.

Source: VotVot (YouTube), 12 December 2025

Our film about the pianist Pavel Kushnir has dropped. […] Honestly, the film was ready to go in late April, but we spent a long while navigating the legal maze around the music, copyrights, and permissions. That was not even the main reason for the delay, though. I wanted to wait until the media hype had subsided and we could take a look at Pavel’s legacy from a certain historical distance, to talk about him not as a victim (although that viewpoint is legitimate, of course) but as a rebel whose choice was deliberate. Similarly, if you will, there are different takes on Christ: some view him as a needless victim who arouses pity, and the more maudlin that pity, paradoxically, the stronger their hatred for his crucifiers; while others see him as a rebel whose heroism was deliberate.

In my opinion, seeing Pavel as a pure “victim” robs him of agency, turning him into an extra in someone else’s play, in which the crucifiers have all the starring roles.

The film is based on Pavel’s own diaries. In terms of composition, I reprised the structure of his screenplay for the unmade film The Six Weary Ones. Three states of madness—prophetic madness, creative madness, and the madness of protest—figure as the three aspects of his personality. As in Joyce, each of Kushnir’s chapters has its own color and symbol. We have added music to these chapters. The music for the red chapter, “Prophet,” is by Rachmaninoff. Bach supplies the music for the blue chapter, “Creator”: blue stands for the heavens and the cosmos, and fugues are cosmic in nature. The third, black-and-white chapter, dealing with rebellion and Birobidzhan, is set to Scriabin’s Prometheus, a [tone] poem about the first rebel in history. Camus writes, in The Rebel, that rebellion confers agency on us, turning us from beasts into human beings. Again, it’s all in the eye of the beholder: some feel pity for Prometheus, chained and tortured by the eagle, while others see in him the power of the unbroken human spirit. And Scriabin’s idea of transforming all of humanity meshes perfectly with the cosmic utopia begun in the previous chapter. Prometheus: The Poem of Fire is a mystery play; as [Russian poet Konstantin] Balmont put it, it is “a vision of singing, falling moons, of musical stardoms, arabesques, hieroglyphs, and stones sculpted from sound.”

The film is chockablock with musical, literary and philosophical allusions which I won’t burden you with now. But if you’re interested, I’ll set up a cozy stream on my tiny Telegram channel where we’ll discuss the film and unpack its hidden layers, and I’ll answer your questions. You can write in the comments about whether this idea seems viable, and I’ll decide what to do based on your feedback.

Once again I want to thank everyone who did their part and helped commemorate a major artist. Thanks to you, we raised 1,185 euros and 533,954.51 rubles [approx. 5,800 euros], which is not just a large sum but a phenomenally large sum, considering that the major media practically ignored our fundraising campaign. That being said, many friends and former colleagues supported us by reposting [our fundraising appealing], which is eloquent testimony to the fact that a person and his reputation are more vital than any institution, and for this I am endlessly grateful to them.

The money we raised was enough for several full-fledged scouting trips and location shoots. Considering the geographical scope of our shoots, which included traveling to Birobidzhan itself, our grassroots war chest was emptied at some point. It became clear that without outside help we wouldn’t be able to complete the project properly, avoid devolving into a Skype interview format, and pay all the courageous artists, editors, and cameramen who had agreed to shoot a film in Russia at their own peril. I understood that asking folks for money again was not a good plan. So, after consulting with our small team, I accepted an offer from the online platform Votvot. They covered our remaining expenses and, most importantly, agreed to our condition that the film would be freely available. Our promises to our donors have not been broken: this grassroots film is being released in a way that is accessible to the grassroots—on YouTube.

I want to thank my friend and colleague Alexander Urzhanov from the bottom of my heart: he was quite emotionally invested in this film and provided us with his fabulous production resources. I would also like to thank all the folks at Narra: they have asked me not to name them, but you know who you are. Misha, Dasha, Ira, and Nastya, I couldn’t have done it without you and by myself! Particular thanks go to Boris Barabanov and Darina Lukutina from Votvot, without whom this film would scarcely have been possible.

I would like to thank Pavel’s relatives for permitting us to use his voice to read his diaries. Getting ahead of myself, I should say that this is the only digitally generated thing in the film. Everything else was filmed or recorded using analog methods: the diaries, the posters, and the drawings of a certain incomparable artists were all done without synthetics or computer glitz. All you see is life’s pleasant graininess.

I thank Pavel’s friends for sharing their archives and letters, as well as everyone who appears in this film.

I have one final request to you. Watch this film tomorrow. More to the point, share this film. I’m afraid that the film will get lost in the ruthless algorithmic desert without your reposts. May this film find everyone who needs it.

Source: Sergey Erzhenkov (Facebook), 12 December 2025. Thanks to Giuliano Vivaldi for the heads-up. Translated by the Russian Reader

Pavel Kushnir was a classical pianist. But according to Russian authorities, he was also a dangerous dissident. In July 2024, he died on hunger strike in a remote prison in Far East Russia. Who was Pavel Kushnir, and why did he end up in jail? Liza Fokht from BBC Russian has been trying to piece together Pavel Kushnir’s story.

Source: Spotify

The Russian Opposition in Exile

This isn’t a show of unity but a photo montage from *La Stampa*: (left to right) Mikhail Khodorkovsky, Garry Kasparov, and Vladimir Kara-Murza all lay claim to leadership of the Russian opposition in exile and the Russian antiwar movement.

Vladimir Kara-Murza has resigned from the [Russian] Antiwar Committee after Garry Kasparov’s offensive outburst in Paris.

I was there when it happened.

What happened, exactly?

At a dinner before a morning meeting with the leadership of the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe (PACE), Kasparov adopted a mobsterish tone with Kara-Murza, demanding to know why he would not sign the Berlin Declaration. Kara-Murza tried to respond constructively, explaining that he had been in prison when the Berlin Declaration was drafted.

“Aren’t you ashamed to say that you only served two years in prison, when there is a man here who served ten years?” Kasparov said, (referring to [Mikhail] Khodorkovsky. — A.G.).

To which the retort was: “Are you speaking as someone who fled Russia in 2013? As far as we know, you have served five days in jail in your entire life.”

At that point, Garry Kimovich lost it and started yelling that all true militants against Putin’s regime had left [Russia] and were fighting for Ukraine, rather than serving time in prisons.

“Why aren’t you fighting for Ukraine yourself, instead of serving time in a restaurant in Paris?” I asked.

“Why aren’t you fighting?” the chess player blurted out.

“But you’re a man, aren’t you?”

“I’m sixty-two years old!”

***

“You scoundrel!” Kasparov shouted at Kara-Murza. “Who got you out of prison?! I got you out! You’re not signing the Berlin Declaration because you can’t say that Crimea belongs to Ukraine!”

FYI: In 2014, after Kasparov had already emigrated, Kara-Murza declared that Crimea was part of Ukraine during an [anti-war] march in Moscow.

***

But here is the most “brilliant” thing the future member of PACE’s Russian platform said:

“Kara-Murza has a British passport, he swore allegiance to the Queen! But I haven’t sworn allegiance to anyone. I have a Croatian passport… just for traveling.”

He’s a traveler all right.

Croatian, my ass.

This was how PACE’s Russian platform was assembled.

Source: Alexandra Garmazhapova (Facebook), 12 December 2025. Translated by the Russian Reader

PACE has decided to create a Platform for Dialogue between the Assembly and Russian democratic forces in exile.

Participants in the platform – whose composition has yet to be decided, based on a set of criteria – would be able to hold two-way exchanges with the Assembly on issues of common concern. They would also be able to attend meetings of selected committees during part-sessions.

Unanimously approving a resolution based on a report by Eerik-Niiles Kross (Estonia, ALDE), the Assembly said participants in the platform would be “persons of the highest moral standing” who, among other conditions, all share Council of Europe values, unconditionally recognise Ukraine’s sovereignty, independence and territorial integrity, and are working towards “regime change” in Russia.

The parliamentarians said the new platform – among other things – would help to strengthen the capacity of Russian democratic forces to “bring about sustainable democratic change in Russia and help achieve a lasting and just peace in Ukraine, alongside ensuring the responsibility of Russian actors for the international crimes committed”.

The Assembly said it honours the commitment of “those Russian human rights defenders, democratic forces, free media, and independent civil society who oppose the totalitarian and neo-imperialistic Russian regime, fight for democracy, human rights and the rule of law, and support Ukraine, sometimes at the risk of their lives and freedom”.

However, unlike Belarusian democratic forces, “Russian democratic forces do not have a single, unified political structure”, the Assembly pointed out. It encouraged Russian groups and initiatives in exile to join forces to advocate for democratic change in Russia, expose the crimes of the Russian regime and support Ukrainians.

Source: “PACE creates a ‘platform for dialogue’ with exiled Russian democratic forces,” Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe, 2 October 2025

On 1 October 2025, the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe (PACE) adopted a resolution to establish a Platform for Dialogue with Russian Democratic Forces (RDF). The initiative is intended to provide a framework for exchanges on issues of shared interest. The decision has sparked some controversy, which appears likely to grow.

A “Legitimate Alternative” Without Legitimacy

According to the report presented by the PACE General Rapporteur on RDF, Eerik-Niiles Kross, the Platform is designed to facilitate the participation of Russian opposition representatives in the Assembly’s activities. Approved candidates will form a delegation, gain access to committee meetings, and be able to address them. Yet the nomination procedure remains vague: Russian opposition groups are expected to reach a “common decision” on who will attend PACE sessions and then submit a candidate list to the President of the Assembly. This process is supposed to be completed by early next year.

The report describes Russian democratic forces as “a legitimate alternative to Putin’s regime.” However, the basis for such legitimacy remains unclear. Unlike the Belarusian opposition, which can point to Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya’s electoral mandate from the 2020 presidential race, Russian opposition figures lack any comparable representative legitimacy. Strictly speaking, they represent no one but themselves.

PACE further specifies which actors it considers part of these “democratic forces”: structures associated with Mikhail Khodorkovsky, Garry Kasparov’s Free Russia Forum, Vladimir Kara-Murza’s Free Russia Foundation, as well as unspecified “representatives of the peoples of Russia.” The Anti-Corruption Foundation (FBK), founded by Alexei Navalny, is also mentioned, but the report explicitly excludes it from the category of democratic forces. The reason given is that the FBK refused to sign the Berlin Declaration, defined by the rapporteur as a conditio sine qua non for cooperation with PACE. In response, FBK representatives reiterated their lack of interest in working with what they called a “talk shop for expressing concerns” and branded the report “rude and vile.”

Defining Democratic Credentials

However, it is not only about the FBK. Some influencers and activists who denounce Russia’s crimes in Ukraine refuse to sign the Berlin Declaration, viewing it not as a universal document, but rather as an act of swearing personal allegiance to Mikhail Khodorkovsky and his Anti-War Committee, which drafted it. Even human rights defenders who did sign the Declaration question why it, in particular, has come to serve as the benchmark of democratic credentials. They regard its inclusion among the criteria for assessing the democratic legitimacy of a potential member as “odd,” since the Berlin Declaration represents “a private statement by one particular segment of the Russian opposition.”

Indeed, it is worth recalling that eight months before the Berlin Declaration, Alexei Navalny’s “15 Points”—a set of principles to which a significant number of Russian political activists still profess commitment—were published. These points outline similar foundations: ending hostilities and withdrawing Russian troops from the occupied territories, compensating Ukraine for the damage caused by the war, condemning imperial policies, committing to a European path of development, as well as dismantling the Putin regime and transforming Russia into a political system that would make the usurpation of power impossible. At the same time, both documents contain elements that appear puzzling. Notably, neither the Berlin Declaration nor Navalny’s 15 Points frames the war in Ukraine as Russia’s war, and both remain silent on the future of captive nations in Russia.

But even if one sets aside the questions raised by Navalnists as to why the “15 Points” are not adopted as the criterion of democratic legitimacy, how will PACE respond if other Russian opposition groups come up with similar declarations of their own?

Ukraine: Scepticism and Restrained Acceptance

Unsurprisingly, initiatives to create platforms involving Russian opposition figures within international organisations are viewed with deep scepticism in Ukraine. Most prominent Russian émigré politicians do not take part in armed resistance against the Putin regime, prefer to shift all responsibility for the invasion onto Putin personally, reject the idea of dismantling the Russian empire, and instead lobby for easing sanctions against “regular Russians.” Increasingly, they blame the west—rather than themselves—for the failure of democratisation in Russia. Nearly four years into the war, the exiled Russian opposition has proven largely irrelevant to Ukraine’s struggle against the invasion.

These arguments were strongly echoed by members of the Ukrainian delegation during the debate. Seven deputies took the floor. None opposed the resolution outright, but all signalled their distrust of the Russian political figures present in the chamber, stressing that they do not view them as a genuine opposition to Putin. Dialogue, they insisted, should be held only with Russians fighting in the Ukrainian armed forces and with representatives of captive nations.

Another concern raised was the lack of clarity in the procedure for determining Russian participants. The Ukrainian delegation succeeded in nearly doubling the criteria for candidate selection, but the Assembly rejected amendments that would have formalised Ukraine’s role in approving the list. This gave the impression that there is no genuine consensus within PACE on the establishment of the Platform for Dialogue with the RDF. As a result, some Assembly members began to doubt the wisdom of the initiative, suggesting that consultations with Russian opposition figures remain at the informal level.

Still, indirect signs suggest that communication between the PACE’s leadership and the Ukrainian delegation had taken place before the resolution was put to a vote. Notably, Ukrainian deputies refrained from openly torpedoing the resolution and instead largely abstained from the vote. Such restraint likely reflected a compromise, which may include the following items. First, the right of Ukraine to nominate representatives of Russian volunteer battalions serving in the Ukrainian armed forces, such as the Russian Volunteer Corps, which has already expressed willingness to join the Platform. Second, a commitment by PACE to establish a separate forum for indigenous peoples and national minorities of Russia, with one-third of seats on the current Platform reserved for them until that forum is created. Third, indirect Ukrainian involvement in controlling the Platform’s activities, possibly through performance indicators such as “feedback from Ukrainian civil society.”

Risks of Division Within the Platform

The creation of the Platform seems to carry potential risks for PACE while offering few tangible benefits. One of the key objectives declared by the resolution’s initiators is to foster greater unity among the highly fragmented Russian anti-Putin forces. In practice, however, it may have the opposite effect—further deepening and cementing the existing divisions among Russian diaspora political groups.

Besides, the inclusion of a diverse array of groups engaged in mutually irreconcilable conflicts raises the question of whether PACE can manage the level of potential tensions within the Platform itself. Frictions are likely to emerge between Russians fighting in the Ukrainian armed forces and well-known dissidents espousing pacifist convictions. Similarly, some Russian émigré politicians—despite condemning imperial policies—still advocate the armed suppression of any hypothetical secession by the North Caucasus. Such a position is unlikely to resonate with representatives of oppressed peoples, who view supporters of continued Russian control over their territories as foes.

It is also unclear whether PACE has a contingency plan should Ukrainian criticism intensify amid internal conflicts within the Platform. Such a scenario could place the Assembly in a difficult position, straining relations with Ukraine, a country whose citizens are dying daily for their independence and the values that the Council of Europe stands for. Were that to happen, the Platform would be remembered alongside PACE’s scandalous decision to restore the credentials of the Russian delegation in 2019 and the leadership’s attempts to shield its disgraced president, Pedro Agramunt—further damaging the Assembly’s image in Ukraine.

Defending his resolution proposal during the debate, Eerik-Niiles Kross drew a parallel with the Soviet occupation, noting that the Estonian diaspora played a vital role by representing the idea of an independent Estonia. By analogy, he argued, Russian democratic forces could play a similar role today, potentially producing their own Willy Brandt or Konrad Adenauer. The comparison, however, is not entirely accurate. Estonian émigrés did not enjoy a formal platform within PACE, but they still managed to convey their message effectively and ultimately saw it realised. Besides, the case of Germany clearly shows that it is not the establishment of a dialogue platform in Strasbourg that increases the chances of Russian Brandts and Adenauers emerging, but Ukraine’s victory on the battlefield. So far, there is scant evidence that prominent Russian emigrants have contributed anything of tangible significance to this cause.

Source: Igor Gretskiy, “Why PACE’s New Russian Platform May Backfire,” International Centre for Defence and Security (ICDS), 9 October 2025

Declaration of Russian Democratic Forces

In this darkest hour, we declare our strategic goals – to stop the aggression against Ukraine and create a free, rule of law based, federal Russia. To do this, we consider it necessary to strengthen the coordination of our actions.

We declare our commitment to the following fundamental positions:

The war against Ukraine is criminal. Russian troops must be withdrawn from all occupied territories. The internationally recognized borders of Russia must be restored; war criminals must be brought to justice and the victims of aggression must be compensated.
Putin’s regime is illegitimate and criminal. Therefore, it must be liquidated. We see Russia as a country in which the individual freedoms and rights are guaranteed, in which the usurpation of state power is eliminated.
The implementation of imperial policy within Russia and abroad is unacceptable.
Political prisoners in Russia and prisoners of war must be released, forcibly displaced persons must be allowed to return home, and abducted Ukrainian children must be returned to Ukraine.
We express our solidarity with those Russians who, despite the brutal repressions, have the courage to speak up from anti-Putin and anti-war positions, and with those tens of millions who refuse to participate in the crimes of the Putin’s regime.

The signatories of the Declaration share the values of a democratic society, respectful communication, recognize human rights and freedoms, the principles of diversity and equal rights, rejection of discrimination.

The signatories refrain from public conflicts in the democratic and anti-war movements.

We call on the citizens of Russia to join this Declaration.

We commit to uphold this Declaration until our common strategic goals are achieved.

Berlin, April 30, 2023

Source: “Declaration of Russian Democratic Forces,” Russian Antiwar Committee, 30 April 2023

According to eyewitnesses who spoke to SOTA, the reason for Vladimir Kara-Murza’s departure from the “Anti-War Committee” today was an argument that took place in a restaurant where potential PACE delegation members were seated. The quarrel began with Garry Kasparov accusing Vladimir Kara-Murza of a lack of teamwork.

According to Kasparov, Kara-Murza deliberately brought Yulia Navalnaya and Ilya Yashin to meet the PACE President, bypassing the general meeting—despite neither of them having signed the Berlin Declaration, which implies support for Ukraine. It should be noted that the opposition will receive only 12 seats in PACE, 4 of which are allocated to “decolonizers.”

Alexandra Garmazhapova, who is close to “Free Russia” and heads the “Free Buryatia” foundation created under its protection, omitted the beginning of the conflict with “Free Russia” Vice-President Kara-Murza in her Facebook post.

According to the former journalist, “Kasparov started questioning Kara-Murza in a thuggish tone about why he had not signed the Berlin Declaration. Kara-Murza tried to respond constructively that he was in prison when work on the Berlin Declaration was underway.”

Meanwhile, Kara-Murza himself stated on X (formerly Twitter) today that he and his colleagues from “Free Russia” were allegedly ready to sign the declaration but did not explain why they have not done so yet.

Back in October, Kara-Murza had virtually refused to sign the declaration: “When the criterion for participation in the Russian democratic platform at PACE is signing a document that a significant number of people associate only with one specific political group—that, in my opinion, is a completely clear element of political manipulation, and it is strange, to say the least. Many colleagues feel the same way, including those who were here in Strasbourg last week at the PACE plenary session.”

The “political group” he referred to is the “Anti-War Committee,” which Kara-Murza only left today under the pretense of a conflict with Kasparov, who is only one of its participants.

Garmazhapova further reported that Kasparov accused Kara-Murza of having “only served two years” in prison, unlike Mikhail Khodorkovsky. Garmazhapova then intervened in the conflict on the side of her “Free Russia” colleague, asking why 62-year-old Kasparov is not on the front line but demands it of others.

It should be noted that Natalia Arno—head of “Free Russia”—and Ilya Yashin, who conducts his world tours with funds from this foundation, also joined the public conflict.

Arno stated that “G. Kasparov allowed monstrous insults directed at my colleague Vladimir Kara-Murza,” called it “dirty methods,” called Kara-Murza a hero, and Kasparov someone who fled Russia in 2013. Arno herself emigrated in 2012.

Ilya Yashin, on X, urged Kara-Murza to believe that “he is there for him.”

Thus, the conflict for leadership in PACE between Khodorkovsky and Kara-Murza, as Arno’s protégé, which SOTA previously wrote about, became public today: Kara-Murza’s self-removal from the “Anti-War Committee,” despite the formal conflict with Kasparov—who is only one of its members—only highlighted the brewing contradictions and “intrigues” that Kasparov had mentioned.

Source: “‘Free Russia’ vs. ‘Anti-War Committee’: What Happened Between Kasparov and Kara-Murza,” Sota News (X), 12 December 2025

Give Them Want They Want

Putin: “Give me what I want!” Trump: “Hang on!”

Trump: “There’s a better way!” Trump: “Give him what he wants!”

Source: Moscow Times Russian Service weekly newsletter, 30 November 2025. Original by Michael de Adder. Translated by the Russian Reader

Following the shooting that claimed the life of a National Guard member last Wednesday in Washington, the Trump administration has announced it will be halting all asylum decisions and paused issuing visas for people travelling on Afghan passports. The suspect in Wednesday’s shooting that killed Specialist Sarah Beckstrom, 20, and critically wounded Staff Sgt. Andrew Wolfe, 24, is Rahmanullah Lakanwal, a 29-year-old Afghan national who worked with the CIA during the Afghanistan War and had been living in the U.S. since 2021. He applied for asylum during the Biden administration under a program that resettled Afghans after the U.S. withdrawal from the country, and was granted it this year under President Trump.

As seen in our infographic, based on data released by the U.S. Department of Justice, Afghanistan was not one of the 10 most common countries of origin for people who received asylum in the U.S. in the fiscal year 2024. Only 508 Afghans were granted asylum in the country that year, while 61 were refused. By comparison, the U.S. granted asylum to 3,605 Russian nationals, making Russia the most common nationality to get asylum in the country during that time period. This was followed by China, with 2,998 Chinese nationals receiving asylum, and Venezuela, with 2,656 successful asylum applications.

Source: Valentine Fourreau, “Who Is Granted Asylum in the United States?” Statista, 1 December 2025

The Intensifying Crackdown in Russia

“My friends died at the hands of Russian soldiers. Why can’t I talk about it?”

This question will cost Varvara Volkova 7 years in a Russian penal colony. Here’s her story.

Varvara was a flight attendant, not an impassioned political activist. In a neighbourhood chat, she stated the obvious: Russian forces are killing civilians in Ukraine. The prosecution framed it as “fake news” motivated by hatred toward the armed forces, and the court accepted it.

The mechanism used to go after her relies on a Soviet-style culture of snitching: a Russian tank driver complained about her comments, then a professional informer, who intentionally hunts dissidents, amplified the case and demanded she be jailed.

In fact, there’s a whole network of these informers — they call themselves “SMERSH.” For those who don’t know Russian history, it is a reference to Stalin’s WWII counter-intelligence service. It means “Death to Spies” — a direct revival of the terror methods of the 1930s. They published screenshots of her messages everywhere trying to ruin her life; claimed she called the soldier a “fascist”; said she offered to make tea for Ukrainian soldiers if they reached the Moscow region. For words spoken in anger, the system decided to smash her life to pieces.

There is a grim irony in this tragedy: the regime destroyed Varvara to protect the “honor” of the military and her accuser. But the tank driver who reported her is already dead: he was killed in the war earlier this March.

Observers abroad often underestimate the price of resistance in today’s Russia. It is not just a fine anymore, but years and years of one’s life. Varvara Volkova shows us the true bill — and it is devastating.

I track the consequences of speech in modern-day Russia, make sure to follow for more updates.

Source: Khodorkovsky Communications Center (Facebook), 25 November 2025

Preface by the Editorial Board: Below we publish the translation of an article of our Russian comrades about state repression in their country. The article reports, among others, about the situation of comrade Felix Eliseev. He has been in prison for 2.5 years as part of a 14-year prison term. Felix was sentenced for “treason” as he was accused of making propaganda against Putin’s imperialist war against Ukraine and sending money to Ukraine to buy weapons. While the prison authorities do everything to break him, Felix does not lose his spirit and endures his imprisonment stoically. (See https://www.thecommunists.net/rcit/felix-eliseev-a-revolutionary-communist-in-russian-prison/)

We call readers to support Felix by spreading this information about a communist and anti-fascist serving an unjust sentence!

You can also support Felix financially at www.paypal.me/irinablackbook, with the note “for Felix”.

* * * * *

According to the human rights organization Memorial, there are currently over 1,000 political prisoners in Russia, while other groups estimate the number could be as high as 2,500. This number is three times higher than in 2020, more than twice as high as in 2022, and continues to grow. In 2025, there was a sharp increase in criminal cases under articles on “justification of terrorism,” “sponsoring terrorist activity,” and “treason.” This is not due to increased terrorism, but to the fact that the security forces, having perfected their repression mechanisms, have begun to intensify their crackdown on “sponsorship” cases, such as those of the FBK (Anti-Corruption Foundation, recognized as an extremist organization in Russia) or cases related to money transfers to the Ukrainian army, which occurred back in 2022. The term “terrorism” itself has become so vague that even the average person doesn’t always understand what it actually means.

Among political prisoners are many individuals with progressive leftist views, serving time for anti-war activities or “inaccurate” public statements online. The “Foundation for Support of Left-Wing Political Prisoners” provides support to at least some of these individuals. Among them are: defendants in the “Tyumen Case”; defendants in the “Chita Case”; Anton Orlov, a trade union and leftist activist, coordinator of the independent medical workers’ union “Action” in Bashkortostan; Daria Kozyreva, an activist from St. Petersburg known for her anti-war protests and criticism of the Russian army; Gagik Grigoryan, a young activist imprisoned in 2023 at the age of 17; Azat Miftakhov is a Russian mathematician and anarchist, sentenced in 2021 to six years in prison for allegedly setting fire to the United Russia office in 2018. After serving this sentence, he was arrested again in 2023 on charges of “justifying terrorism” in a private conversation with a prison cellmate and sentenced to four years in prison; defendants in the “Kansk teenagers case”; defendants in the “Network case”; Boris Kagarlitsky is a left-wing publicist known in many parts of the world; Ruslan Ushakov is the author of articles published on opposition Telegram channels, sentenced to eight years in prison for posts in a public chat.

The case of the communist Felix Eliseev

Another political prisoner is Felix Eliseev, a Russian communist, blogger, and administrator of the Telegram channels “She Fell Apart” and “Kolkhoznoye Madness.” He was arrested in December 2022 and charged with justifying terrorism. According to investigators, Eliseev posted two anti-war posts on his Telegram channel, one of which endorsed a Ukrainian Armed Forces helicopter strike on an oil depot in Belgorod. The charges were later upgraded, and Eliseev was charged with “treason”. The court alleges that he transferred funds through a cryptocurrency account to a “curator,” who used the funds to purchase equipment and weapons for Ukrainian Armed Forces soldiers.

Felix, like many other political prisoners convicted of “terrorist and extremist” offenses, is serving his sentence under intense pressure from the prison administration. He is regularly placed in solitary confinement cells, where they do everything they can to break him mentally and physically.

However, political repression in Russia involves more than just horrific criminal cases of “terrorism,” “treason,” and other “betrayals of the nation.” It also includes the persecution of undesirable and dissenting youth who dare publicly speak out against the war and the ruling elite, thereby gathering many other concerned young people around them.

The “Stop Time” case

One example of such government abuse is the “Stop Time” case. The “Stop Time” case concerns the persecution by Russian authorities of members of the St. Petersburg street music group “Stop Time” – Diana Loginova (pseudonym Naoko), Alexander Orlov, and Vladislav Leontyev – for their participation in impromptu concerts, including one near the Ploshchad Vosstaniya metro station, where they performed anti-war songs by artists designated by the authorities as “foreign agents.” On October 16, 2025, Loginova was arrested and sentenced to 13 days of administrative arrest for performing a song by an artist unpopular with the authorities. The other members of the band were also arrested and sentenced to 12-13 days. These events resonated in the media (both pro-government and opposition) and society, becoming a topic of discussion in the context of artistic freedom and the tightening of censorship in modern Russia.

On October 29-30, the musicians received another 12-13 days of arrest, and on November 11, two of them were arrested for another 13 days. On November 23, the musicians were released from arrest. The lead singer and one of the band members left Russia that same day.

In many Russian cities, street bands followed “Stop Time’s” example and performed opposition songs by artists-foreign agents to large audiences in public squares. They also faced pressure from the authorities and harassment from Z-Neanderthals.

Also, recently, spiders in a jar have started eating each other. Criminal cases have been brought against several well-known military Z-bloggers for discrediting the army! More than two years after Strelkov’s imprisonment and Prigozhin’s murder, a new steamroller of repression is purging those loyalists who are too undesirable.

All of the above demonstrates that Russian society has no legal means to publicly express its attitude toward the events unfolding around it. For any word “against,” the sword of Damocles of Russian justice hangs over every citizen. Despite this, concerned Russians, especially young people, are finding ways to rally together and show the world that not all is lost in this country.

Meanwhile, cowardly security officials and government officials tremble at the mere thought that the masses will sooner or later awaken from their slumber and rise to deliver justice to the imperialist oppressors in the Kremlin. In Russia, literal punishments are being introduced for thought crimes. Thus, in September of this year, an administrative law punishing “searching for extremist materials” came into force. This law allows the FSB to view any citizen’s internet search history, and if it contains views of materials deemed extremist or terrorist, the user faces a visit from masked officers and a fine. The first cases under this law have already been filed.

Furthermore, the country is introducing a so-called “white list” for the internet—only those websites approved by Roskomnadzor are permitted to be accessed; others are inaccessible, and VPNs cannot be connected. So far, in the spirit of Russian tradition, this system is poorly functioning and flawed, but the day is not far off when Russian society will find itself locked in a “cheburnet.” (*)

Freedom for political prisoners!

For freedom of speech, conscience, and the internet!

Down with political repression!

Radical democratization of the country, not the fascist regime of a dictator!

All power to the working class and the working masses, not to a handful of oligarchic monopolists!

(*) Cheburnet is a mixture of two words: Чебурашка (Cheburashka) and internet. Cheburashka is a character from Soviet cartoon for children. Despite it is kind and helpful, in modern mass consciousness it is associated with Soviet censorship. So cheburnet basicaly means internet under the censorship of Russian government and intelligence agencies.

Source: Communist Tendency (RCIT Section in Russia), “Political Repression in Russia,” Revolutionary Communist International Tendency, 25 November 2025

An appeal from Elena, mother of Ilya Shakursky:

My name is Elena Nikolaevna Bogatova, and I am the mother of political prisoner Ilya Alexandrovich Shakursky. I am crying out for help to save my son so that he does not rot away in solitary confinement.

They took my only son away when he was twenty-one years old. He is now twenty-nine. He has been tortured. He has serious health problems that we still cannot solve. He still has eight years to serve, and they could turn him into a disabled person. I cannot help him on my own, so I am asking all caring people to help us.

It is impossible for a mother to know that her child is being destroyed, and that she cannot save him!

Although he committed no crime, he is in prison under the harsh Article 205 [of the Russian Criminal Code; Article 205 proscribes “terrorist acts”], enduring all the hardships of prison life, without ever receiving any encouragement; we cannot even hope for parole. Right now, [the prison authorities] want to turn him into repeat offender so that he cannot have any visits, phone calls, letters, or packages. They want to take everything away from him.

I ask you to write an appeal. I understand that there are many of us now, and everyone is exhausted. But we must stand together for the sake of our loved ones, for the sake of the younger generation, which is currently being destroyed. Hear the cry of a mother who cannot bear the pain for her son and for all those behind bars. If we push with our shoulders, the walls will collapse….

https://t.me/ilyashakursky

Source: Elena Shakurskaya (Facebook), 28 November 2025. Translated by the Russian Reader

OVD-Info Faces a Critical Situation: We Have Lost All Our Ruble Donations

26.11.2025

Russian payment services have refused to continue working with us, without providing any explanation, and have cut off our ability to accept one-time and recurring donations. This has severed our connection to our main source of support—the 12,000 individuals who regularly transfer money to OVD-Info.

The services’ refusal to cooperate with us is one of the many manifestations of state pressure on human rights organizations and independent media. Some of them even had to close due to the loss of donations in rubles.

This is a severe blow to our work. With these donations we were able to pay for the work of defense lawyers and legal experts, travel to the regions, maintain our free hotline, and help those who are politically persecuted in Russia. Furthermore, regular donations allowed us to plan our long-term work and development.

We do not plan to close or reduce the scope of our work, because repression is not diminishing. Any political activity, expressing a view against the invasion of Ukraine, or criticism of Putin instantly becomes grounds for persecution. We simply cannot abandon Russians to face this brutal, repressive system alone. We are defending over 90 defendants in criminal cases, almost every day we send lawyers to police stations, courts, searches, penal colonies, and pre-trial detention centers. We answer dozens of messages and calls daily—and we want to continue doing this.

However, now everything depends on whether we can find another 12,000 people who will regularly support OVD-Info.

You can support us here.

Source: OVD Info

*Yulia Lemeshchenko. Photo from the Memorial website*

The Second Western Military District court in Moscow last week sentenced Yulia Lemeshchenko to 19 years’ imprisonment for high treason, sabotage, and preparing and training for an act of terrorism.

Yulia, 42, is a Russian citizen, born in Staryi Oskol, in Belgorod region. She lived in Voronezh in southern Russia, until 2014. Then she moved to Kharkiv, Ukraine, with her son and her husband, who had found work there. Later on the couple separated.

Yulia took up powerlifting and in 2021 was named Ukrainian women’s champion.

In 2024 Yulia did military training in Kyiv – firearms, explosives and flying drones – and returned to Russia, via a third country. She sabotaged power transmission infrastructure near St Petersburg, and in Voronezh conducted surveillance on Aleksei Lobodoi, an air force commander responsible for bombing Kharkiv.

Yulia was arrested in January this year. She did not deny the facts outlined in the prosecution case, but told the court that “from a moral standpoint” she considered herself not guilty. This is a translation of her final statement to the court, published by Mediazona.

Ukrainian Champion in a Russian Court: Yulia Lemeshchenko’s Final Statement

As you see, I don’t have any sheets of paper and I haven’t especially prepared, but I think I will improvise. I will now probably say a few things that were already said during this hearing, but let this be a sort of summing-up, in a monologue.

So I already spoke here about the fact that, in any war, two sides clash, and each side insists that it is right and that its cause is just. I took one of these sides. I am not a citizen of the country for which I decided to fight, but, all the same, for me, Ukraine is home. I love that country. And I love Kharkiv, with all my heart.

There is a district in Kharkiv called Severnaya Saltovka. About 500,000 people lived there. Half a million. A few people I knew lived there. My hairdresser lived there. After the Russian shelling and bombing, not a single house in that district was left undamaged. Not a single one. And I am not just talking about a few broken windows. I am talking about whole blocks of flats in ruins.

Right next to the block where I lived, there were explosions. In my block, on the ground floor, my neighbour Anya lived with her four-year-old son Nikita. A shell exploded right under their window. Their apartment was completely destroyed. What has happened to Anya and her son I don’t know. I don’t know whether they are still alive.

Friends of mine have died in this war, one relative – my second cousin – and colleagues of mine. War is monstrous. I could not stand aside. When war comes, people who are affected can either try somehow to fight, or they can flee. People flee – I don’t know – maybe because they are cowardly or weak. I don’t consider myself to be a cowardly or weak person. So I decided to fight back – to fight against Russian military aggression.

It is possible that, by saying these things, I am getting myself still deeper into trouble. But my honour, and my conscience, are important to me. I did what I believed to be necessary. I did what I could. To regret, to repent – who knows, maybe I will do that on my deathbed. But for now, what will be, will be. I have nothing further to say.

When the court hearing began, Mediazona reported that the judge, Vadim Krasnov, read out evidence that Yulia gave after being arrested in January. After the all-out Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022, Yulia at first moved to Germany. In 2023 she returned to Ukraine and made contact with the “Free Russia” legion, but did not join.

In 2024, when she did her military training, the instructors – who did not answer questions about which part of the armed forces they served in – said that, by way of payment for her work, she could receive Ukrainian citizenship.

The judge asked if she had done so, to which she replied, with a smile, “not yet”.

During the hearing, Judge Krasnov asked Yulia why she had chosen such a radical method of struggle, rather than, for example, providing medical help to the wounded.

“I can only answer that question with another, rhetorical question”, she replied. “Why did Russia decide to use violent methods to destroy Ukrainian cities? A war had started. Do you understand?”

The judge responded that, by 2022, the war had already been underway for eight years. Yes, but it had become frozen, Lemeshchenko said. After the invasion, she wanted to help Ukraine however she could, and was invited to become a saboteur.

“How far were you prepared to go?” asked the judge. “I did not want to do anything that would take human lives”, Lemeshchenko replied. “They accepted that point. On that we had an agreement.”

The judge said that the sabotage Lemeshchenko carried out near St Petersburg left hospitals without electric light. She replied that the aim had been to paralyse a drone factory, that she was sincerely sorry if anyone in Petersburg had suffered. And that she and her son had many times sat in their apartment, without light, when Kharkiv was being bombed.

Lemeshchenko also told the court that, during interrogation, agents of the federal security service (FSB) had threatened to murder her, and pushed her head against a wall. She had tried to tell them the truth. She said that she did not retract her evidence – and nor would she complain about her treatment, as she did not believe that those responsible would be punished.

□ Here is Yulia’s statement in court, recorded with English interpretation. Yulia is recognised as a political prisoner by Memorial, and her case was reported by the Kharkiv Human Rights Protection Group.

□ The last word in court by Anton Khozhaev, a trainee officer accused of desertion to the Ukrainian side, and more on Russian anti-war protesters

□ Voices Against Putin’s War, just published by Resistance Books, includes 12 statements by anti-war protesters and associated material. The livestream of a launch event is here. 27 November 2025.

Source: “‘I decided to fight back. Ukraine is my home.’ Yulia Lemeshchenko’s final word in court,” People and Nature, 27 November 2025

Peace for Our Time

Trump didn’t win the Nobel Peace Prize, but he’s a lock for the Kremlin’s Employee of the Month.

Source: Andy Borowitz (Facebook), 22 November 2025

The 28-point Russia–Ukraine peace plan—put on the table this week by Steve Witkoff, President Donald Trump’s emissary, and Kirill Dmitriev, a Kremlin aide equally inexperienced at diplomacy—grants Kyiv two favors but otherwise amounts to a Moscow wish list.

It is worth noting that neither Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky nor any European leader was consulted in the backroom drafting. Spokesmen for Russian President Vladimir Putin say, a bit improbably, that they haven’t seen the deal either. Even if its outlines were acceptable to both sides, several of its planks are ambiguous, requiring extensive negotiation. Still, Trump has demanded that Ukraine accept the plan before Thanksgiving.

This timetable seems unlikely, as does the notion that peace is now at hand.

The plan allows Ukraine to apply for membership to the European Union—a significant point, given that, in some ways, the war began back in 2014, when Putin deposed a Ukrainian president who was on the verge of striking a deal with the EU. The plan also commits $100 billion in seized Russian assets to rebuild war-torn areas of Ukraine.

However, the rest is a shambles. It hands much of Ukrainian territory to Russia—including Crimea and the eastern Donbas districts of Luhansk and Donetsk. It reduces the size of the Ukrainian army to 600,000 troops (it currently has about 880,000), while putting no cap on the number of Russian troops on Ukraine’s borders. It demands that Ukraine revise its constitution to prohibit membership in NATO, bars NATO troops from being stationed in Ukraine, and forbids Ukraine from attacking Moscow or St. Petersburg with missiles (a peculiar clause—as Lawrence Freedman asks, “But [attacking] Rostov is OK?”), without barring Russia from firing missiles at cities in Ukraine.

Finally, Ukraine must hold elections within 100 days (nothing about how security might be kept at polling stations in areas still under dispute), all combatants and politicians are granted amnesty (so much for war-crimes trials), and Russia “will be reintegrated into the global community,” complete with restored membership in the G8 and the dropping of sanctions.

A few other articles seem to favor Ukraine at first glance, but not so much upon scrutiny. For instance, “Russia is expected not to invade neighboring countries” (italics added), which sounds like a courteous request, not a legal demand. (By contrast, the same plank—in fact, the same sentence—states, “NATO will not expand further.”)

Another: “Ukraine will receive reliable security guarantees,” but there isn’t a hint on what Moscow would find acceptable in this department. Similarly, “Russia will codify a non-aggression policy toward Europe and Ukraine,” thus allowing Putin to load the codification with whatever loose language and loopholes he’d like.

The plan calls for the creation of a “humanitarian committee” to oversee an “all for all” exchange of prisoners, detainees, and kidnapped children. That’s good, but there’s nothing about who appoints the committee members or how the trades are enforced; for instance, who sends police into Moscow homes to retrieve Ukrainian babies and adolescents? Even assuming the best of intentions (a dubious assumption), this will take a while to formalize.

Similarly, the plan says that Donetsk will be turned into a “demilitarized zone,” with no Ukrainian or Russian troops allowed to enter. Again, fine, but who supplies the armed peacekeepers to enforce this rule—and why should Moscow accept it, given that the deal recognizes Donetsk as Russian territory?

These are not small points. Article 28, the plan’s final plank, states, “Once all parties accept this memorandum, a ceasefire will take effect immediately after both sides withdraw to the agreed points for the start of the agreement’s implementation.” In other words, all of the plan’s ambiguities, loose ends, and remaining disputes have to be settled—and then troop withdrawals have to be completed, not merely started—before a ceasefire takes hold.

This is the opposite of the 20-point peace plan that Trump helped impose on Israel and Hamas in Gaza. It shrewdly demanded a ceasefire and hostage exchange as the deal’s first steps. It is not at all clear that details about the remaining points will ever be negotiated, much less implemented (in fact, most of those points seem politically dead on arrival), but the important thing—Trump and his Arab partners realized—was to stop the killing and to keep it stopped for as long as possible.

The Russia–Ukraine plan does the opposite: It imposes a ceasefire after agreement and action on all the other steps toward a peace—and an unjust peace at that.

The main problem with the plan is that, like its American authors, it fails to recognize the true nature of the war: namely, that Ukrainians are fighting for their sovereignty as an independent nation, while Putin is fighting for the restoration of the old Russian empire, which entails, among other things, the total subjugation of Ukraine.

A Kremlin spokesman said as much on Friday, when he said that any peace deal must address the war’s “root causes.” Putin has made clear a number of times that he regards, as the war’s main root cause, the insistence by the government in Kyiv—which he denounces as an illegitimate “neo-Nazi dictatorship”—that Ukraine exists as a nation with its own history, culture, and language.

The best way to end the war is for Trump to realize this fact—and to convince Putin that the West will not let this imperial dream come true. Short of that, all the rest, including the 28-point peace plan, is at best a distraction and at worst a recipe for democratic Ukraine’s surrender.

Source: Fred Kaplan, “The Closer You Look at Trump’s Ukraine Peace Plan, the Worse It Looks for Ukraine,” Slate, 21 November 2025

Ukraine’s president Volodymyr Zelensky addressed the Ukrainian people today. The current moment, he said, is “one of the most difficult” for the country. “Ukraine may soon face an extremely difficult choice. Either the loss of dignity or the risk of losing a key partner. Either 28 complicated points or the hardest winter yet—and the risks that follow,” Zelensky said.

Zelensky’s use of the word “dignity” recalled Ukraine’s 2014 “Revolution of Dignity” that ousted Russian-aligned president Viktor Yanukovych and turned the country toward Europe.

Zelensky was responding to a 28-point “peace” plan President Donald J. Trump is pressuring him to sign before Thanksgiving, November 27. The plan appears to have been leaked to Barak Ravid of Axios by Kirill Dmitriev, a top ally of Russia’s president Vladimir Putin, and reports say it was worked out by Dmitriev and Trump’s envoy Steve Witkoff. Ukrainian representatives and representatives from Europe were not included. Laura Kelly of The Hill reported on Wednesday that Congress was blindsided by the proposal, which Mark Toth and Jonathan Sweet of The Hill suggest Russia may be pushing now to take advantage of a corruption scandal roiling Ukraine’s government.

Luke Harding of The Guardian noted that the plan appears to have been translated from Russian, as many of the phrases in the text read naturally in that language but are awkward and clunky in English.

The plan is a Russian wish list. It begins by confirming Ukraine’s sovereignty, a promise Russia gave Ukraine in 1994 in exchange for Ukraine giving up its nuclear weapons but then broke when it invaded Ukraine in 2014.

The plan gives Crimea and most of the territory in Ukraine’s four eastern oblasts of Kherson, Zaporizhzhia, Donetsk, and Luhansk to Russia, and it limits the size of the Ukrainian military.

It erases any and all accountability for the Russian attacks on Ukrainian civilians, including well-documented rape, torture, and murder. It says: “All parties involved in this conflict will receive full amnesty for their actions during the war and agree not to make any claims or consider any complaints in the future.”

It calls for $100 billion in frozen Russian assets to be invested in rebuilding and developing Ukraine. Since the regions that need reconstruction are the ones Russia would be taking, this means that Russian assets would go back to Russia. The deal says that Europe, which was not consulted, will unfreeze Russian assets and itself add another $100 billion to the reconstruction fund. The plan says the U.S. “will receive 50 percent of the profits from this venture,” which appears to mean that Europe will foot the bill for the reconstruction of Ukraine—Russia, if the plan goes through—and the U.S. and Russia will split the proceeds.

The plan asserts that “Russia will be reintegrated into the global economy,” with sanctions lifted and an invitation to rejoin the Group of Seven (G7), an informal group of countries with advanced economies—Canada, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, the United Kingdom, and the United States, along with the European Union—that meets every year to discuss global issues. Russia was excluded from the group after it invaded Ukraine in 2014, and Putin has wanted back in.

According to the plan, Russia and “[t]he US will enter into a long-term economic cooperation agreement for mutual development in the areas of energy, natural resources, infrastructure, artificial intelligence, data centres, rare earth metal extraction projects in the Arctic, and other mutually beneficial corporate opportunities.”

The plan requires Ukraine to amend its constitution to reject membership in the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO). It says “[a] dialogue will be held between Russia and NATO, mediated by the US, to resolve all security issues and create conditions for de-escalation to ensure global security and increase opportunities for cooperation and future economic development.”

Not only does this agreement sell out Ukraine and Europe for the benefit of Russia—which attacked Ukraine—it explicitly separates the U.S. from NATO, a long-time goal of Russia’s president Vladimir Putin.

NATO grew out of the 1941 Atlantic Charter. Months before the U.S. entered World War II, U.S. president Franklin Delano Roosevelt and British prime minister Winston Churchill and their advisors laid out principles for an international system that could prevent future world wars. They agreed that countries should not invade each other and therefore the world should work toward disarmament, and that international cooperation and trade thanks to freedom of the seas would help to knit the world together with rising prosperity and human rights.

The war killed about 36.5 million Europeans, 19 million of them civilians, and left many of those who had survived homeless or living in refugee camps. In its wake, communism backed by the Soviet Union began to push west into Europe. In 1949, France, the U.K., Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg formed a military and economic alliance, the Western Union, to work together, but nations understood that resisting Soviet aggression, preventing the revival of European militarism, and guaranteeing international cooperation would require a transatlantic security agreement.

In 1949 the countries of the Western Union joined with the U.S., Canada, Portugal, Italy, Norway, Denmark, and Iceland to make up the twelve original signatories to the North Atlantic Treaty. In it, the countries reaffirmed “their desire to live in peace with all peoples and all governments” and their determination “to safeguard the freedom, common heritage and civilisation of their peoples, founded on the principles of democracy, individual liberty and the rule of law.”

They vowed that any attack on one of the signatories would be considered an attack on all, thus deterring war by promising strong retaliation. This system of collective defense has stabilized the world for 75 years. Thirty-two countries are now members, sharing intelligence, training, tactics, equipment, and agreements for use of airspace and bases. In 2024, NATO countries reaffirmed their commitment and said Russia’s invasion of Ukraine had “gravely undermined global security.”

They did so in the face of Russian aggression.

Putin invaded Crimea in 2014 after Ukrainians ousted Yanukovych, earning economic sanctions and expulsion from what was then the G8. But Crimea wasn’t enough: he wanted Ukraine’s eastern oblasts, the country’s industrial heartland. Former secretary of state Hillary Clinton, who was running for the U.S. presidency against Donald Trump in 2016, would never stand for that land grab. But Trump was a different story.

According to Special Counsel Robert Mueller’s 2019 report on Russian interference in the 2016 presidential election, in summer 2016, Trump campaign manager Paul Manafort discussed with his business partner, Russian operative Konstantin Kilimnik, “a ‘backdoor’ means for Russia to control eastern Ukraine.” According to the Republican-dominated Senate Intelligence Committee, the plan was for Trump to say he wanted peace in Ukraine and for him to appoint Manafort to be a “special representative” to manage the process. With the cooperation of Russian and Russian-backed Ukrainian officials, Manafort would help create “an autonomous republic” in Ukraine’s industrialized eastern region and would work to have Russian-backed Yanukovych, for whom Manafort had worked previously, “elected to head that republic.”

According to the Senate Intelligence Committee, the men continued to work on what they called the “Mariupol Plan” at least until 2018. Putin has been determined to control that land ever since. And now it appears Russia is pushing Trump to deliver it.

This plan, complete with its suggestion that the U.S. is no longer truly a part of NATO but can broker between NATO and Russia, would replace the post–World War II rules-based international order with a new version of an older order. In the world before NATO and the other international institutions that were created after World War II, powerful countries dominated smaller countries, which had to do as their powerful neighbors demanded in order to survive.

Source: Heather Cox Richardson, Notes of an American, 21 November 2025

Donald Trump’s “peace plan” for Ukraine has caused an international firestorm—perhaps because its origins are surrounded by mystery.

We know the plan is the love child of Trump special envoy Steve Witkoff and Vladimir Putin’s emissary, financier Kirill Dmitriev. But what did Trump know about it? (Apparently not much.) Where does Marco Rubio stand? Did Vladimir Putin greenlight this plan on the Russian side? Does he want it implemented? Can it be implemented? What exactly is in it, and how is it being revised? It’s the proverbial Winston Churchill line about Kremlin politics as a “bulldog fight under a rug”—only now with Jared Kushner under there, holding a leash.

There is widespread agreement that the 28-point proposal is devastating for Ukraine: it would lose the entirety of the Donetsk and Luhansk provinces (including the roughly 15 percent of these territories currently in Ukrainian hands) and the occupied parts of the Kherson and Zaporizhia provinces. The part of the Donetsk province currently controlled by Ukraine is to be converted, after Ukrainian withdrawal, into a “neutral demilitarized buffer zone” de facto recognized as Russian but off-limits to Russian troops. What does that mean? Who will police that zone, especially considering that the proposal rules out NATO troops in Ukraine? Those details are, we imagine, currently being filled in.

The plan also includes a proposed cap on the Ukrainian military that is outrageous in principle since it infringes on Ukrainian sovereignty. The one positive spin may be that the 600,000 cap does not include the National Guard and many other types of troops. And while it’s a substantial reduction from the current 900,000 troop size of the Ukrainian armed forces, that number is elevated precisely because the country is currently at war. Moreover, in their spring 2022 peace talk proposal, the Russians had demanded an 85,000 cap.

Still, many other provisions of the plan are infuriating not only for Ukraine but for the civilized world in general. There is, among other things, the failure to name Russia as the aggressor even once, and Russia’s proposed reintegration into the G-7 and other international structures. And yet some strongly pro-Ukraine analysts, such as expatriate Russian journalist Michael Nacke, argue that the proposal has some equally unacceptable elements for Vladimir Putin. Most notably, it stipulates a guarantee of Ukrainian security similar to NATO’s Article 5: an attack on Ukraine would be treated as an attack on the entire transatlantic structure.

Maybe Russia regards this clause as meaningless and believes NATO will never go to war with Russia over Ukraine. It is also worth noting that Putin has continued to insist that Russia intends to achieve all the goals of the “special military operation”—which would include the demilitarization of Ukraine and its de facto relegation to a Russian satellite. Nacke, like a number of other commentators, believe that whatever Ukraine does, Putin will not sign the Trump peace plan.

So the plan may not be a Kremlin wish list. But it does have a distinct Russian flavor. It’s possible that, as investigative journalist Christo Grozev has suggested, the Russian side of the plan comes not from Putin but from the “dovish” Kremlin faction concerned primarily with trade and improved relations with the West.

In this interpretation, the plan represents not so much a proposal for Ukrainian surrender as Trump administration amateur hour: a plan that was cooked up by a real estate developer and a financier that won’t be acceptable to either side. Will current attempts to revise it yield a better version? They’re happening as we hit send on this email. So stay tuned.

Source: Cathy Young, “Moscow’s Mule,” The Bulwark, 24 November 2025

“Do I understand correctly that there is now a dispute within the administration about whether this ‘peace plan’ was written by Russians or Americans?” foreign affairs journalist Anne Applebaum asked last night on social media.

Applebaum was referring to confusion over a 28-point plan for an end to Russia’s war on Ukraine reported by Barak Ravid and Dave Lawler of Axios last week. After the plan was leaked, apparently to Ravid by Kirill Dmitriev, an ally of Russian president Vladimir Putin who is under U.S. sanctions, Vice President J.D. Vance came out strongly in support of it.

But as scholar of strategic studies Phillips P. OBrien noted in Phillips’s Newsletter, once it became widely known that the plan was written by the Russians, Secretary of State Marco Rubio tried to back away from it, posting on social media on Wednesday that “[e]nding a complex and deadly war such as the one in Ukraine requires an extensive exchange of serious and realistic ideas. And achieving a durable peace will require both sides to agree to difficult but necessary concessions. That is why we are and will continue to develop a list of potential ideas for ending this war based on input from both sides of this conflict.”

And yet, by Friday, Trump said he expected Ukraine president Volodymyr Zelensky to sign onto the plan by Thanksgiving: next Thursday, November 27. Former senate majority leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) said: “Putin has spent the entire year trying to play President Trump for a fool. Rewarding Russian butchery would be disastrous to America’s interests.”

Yesterday a group of senators, foreign affairs specialists gathered in Halifax, Nova Scotia, for the Halifax International Security Forum, told reporters they had spoken to Rubio about the plan. Senator Angus King (I-ME) said Rubio had told them that the document “was not the administration’s position” but rather “a wish list of the Russians.” Senator Mike Rounds (R-SC) said: “This administration was not responsible for this release in its current form.” He added: “I think he made it very clear to us that we are the recipients of a proposal that was delivered to one of our representatives,” Rounds said. “It is not our recommendation, it is not our peace plan.”

But then a spokesperson for the State Department, Tommy Pigott, called the senators’ account of the origins of the plan “blatantly false,” and Rubio abruptly switched course, posting on social media that in fact the U.S. had written the plan.

Anton La Guardia, diplomatic editor at The Economist, posted: “State Department is backpedalling on Rubio’s backpedal. If for a moment you thought the grown-ups were back in charge, think again. We’re still in the circus. ‘Unbelievable,’ mutters one [of the] disbelieving senators.”

Later that day, Erin Banco and Gram Slattery of Reuters reported that the proposal had come out of a meeting in Miami between Trump’s special envoy Steve Witkoff, Trump’s son-in-law Jared Kushner, and Dmitriev, who leads one of Russia’s largest sovereign wealth funds. They reported that senior officials in the State Department and on the National Security Council were not briefed about the plan.

This morning, Bill Kristol of The Bulwark reported rumors that Vice President J.D. Vance was “key to US embrace of Russia plan on Ukraine, Rubio (and even Trump) out of the loop.” He posted that relations between Vance and Rubio are “awful” and that Rubio did, in fact, tell the senators what they said he did.

Yaroslav Trofimov, chief foreign affairs correspondent of the Wall Street Journal, posted: “Foreign nations now have to deal with rival factions of the U.S. government who keep major policy initiatives secret from each other and some of which work with foreign powers as the succession battle for 2028 begins, is how one diplomat put it.”

[…]

Source: Heather Cox Richardson, Letters from an American, 23 November 2025

This!

Source: Andy Borowitz (Facebook), 24 November 2025

“We Wanted to Show the Whole Range of Anti-War Resistance in Russia”

Thursday 20 November, 7:00 p.m. UK time: TRY ME FOR TREASON – Readings from anti-war protesters’ speeches in Russian courts, and book launch for Voices Against Putin’s War.

You are welcome to attend in person at Pelican House, 144 Cambridge Heath Road, London E1. Or watch the livestream here on Facebook, or on Youtube.

Source: Ukraine Information Group (Facebook), 18 November 2025

What can courtroom speeches by imprisoned protesters tell us about the breadth of anti-war resistance in Russia? British historian Simon Pirani discusses his new book Voices Against Putin’s War with independent Russian journalist Ivan Rechnoy.

Simon Pirani is a British researcher and author who has written about energy and ecology, the history of the Russian Revolution, the labor movement, and post-Soviet Russia. His recent book Voices Against Putin’s War: Protesters’ Defiant Speeches in Russian Courts compiles and analyzes the courtroom speeches of twelve prisoners who were sentenced for resisting Russian aggression in Ukraine.

— Today in Russia, hundreds of people are serving prison sentences for criticizing the invasion of Ukraine. Twelve of those people are the subjects of your book. How did you select them?

— We wanted to show that opposition to Putin’s war is widespread. What is striking about these people is their diversity. They come from different generations, have different life experiences, and hold different political views. This diversity demonstrates that, despite the absence of public demonstrations and the lack of any real possibility of organizing an open anti-war movement in Russia, an anti-war movement does exist there. It encompasses a very broad spectrum of Russian society as well as people from the occupied territories. For example, the book features the courtroom speech of Bohdan Ziza from Crimea.

We decided not to include some of the most well-known opponents of the war in the book — people who made brave and principled speeches in court, like Ilya Yashin, for example. Their statements had already been widely publicized in the media here. Instead our goal was to draw the attention of English-speaking readers to lesser-known figures.

On the one hand, there are those who simply said something or posted statements on social media. For example, Darya Kozyreva, the youngest person featured in the book, was arrested for laying flowers at the Taras Shevchenko monument in Saint Petersburg. On the other hand, these are those who did something, such as throwing firebombs — not with the intention of hurting anyone, but to draw attention to the injustice of the war. Igor Paskar and Alexei Rozhkov are among them. These are people who live in smaller towns far from Moscow or Saint Petersburg, where young men are much more likely to receive draft notices from the conscription service.

We also included the statement by Ruslan Siddiqi, who sabotaged a railway line to stop munitions from reaching Ukraine.

The texts for the book were put together by a group of friends who, since the February 2022 invasion, had been translating the courtroom statements and some of the posts from the media or social networks. When we were already well into that process, a lot of new material appeared on the website Poslednee Slovo [author’s note: the project’s name translates as “the final statement”]. It’s a terrific project that does an excellent job of collecting and publishing a much broader range of cases than we could cover.

We limited ourselves to people who have made explicit anti-war statements about the war in Ukraine. However, as you know, there are many other political prisoners who have appeared in court since the 2022 invasion, as well as many more from before that, especially among the Crimean Tatar political prisoners. They are all represented on the Poslednee Slovo website. Another remarkable thing about the website is that it goes back all the way to the Soviet period. They’ve included the 1966 speeches by Andrei Sinyavsky and Yulii Daniel, perhaps the first examples since Stalin’s time of people using the right for a final statement in court as a form of propaganda.

Our book includes a chapter that lists seventeen additional cases of people who delivered anti-war speeches, beyond the twelve protagonists whose complete statements we published. We hope that either I or my colleagues will eventually translate all of those speeches as well.

Unfortunately, the final courtroom speech has become something like a literary genre in its own right. This tells us a lot about the difficult and fearful times we are living through.

— How do you envision the audience for this book? Are they people in the West and elsewhere who already have some understanding of the situation in Russia and want to learn more? Or are they readers to whom you want to convey a political message — perhaps even to persuade them of something?

— The book is in English and is therefore intended for English-speaking readers rather than Russian-speaking readers. Only a small percentage of people in the UK, the US, and Europe can read Russian. Since 2022, many of us have been aware of the fate of the anti-war movement in Russia. As you know, it began with large demonstrations, but protesting soon became difficult and then almost impossible. Next came the firebomb attacks on military recruitment centers — actions not meant to harm people, but to draw attention to the anti-war cause. We then started reading, in Russia’s opposition media, the final statements of opposition figures — the courtroom having become, in effect, the last public forum in Russia where protest is still possible.

However, I think that many people in English-speaking countries remain unaware of all this.

So, to answer your question, our aim is to reach a wider audience in Western societies: not only those who have closely followed Russia’s attack on Ukraine and its consequences, but also those whose understanding of it comes only from what they have picked up incidentally through the media.

— One of the central figures in your book is Alexander Skobov. One might say he bridges two eras. He was a dissident in the Soviet Union and is once again among the persecuted today. There is another similar example that is not included in the book: Boris Kagarlitsky. How do people in the West perceive the difference between current repressions and the dissident movement during the Cold War? Also, how do they see the difference between the Russian and Western situations now?

— First, I would like to say a few words about Skobov. As someone who regularly travelled to Russia between 1990 and 2019, I was deeply affected by these courtroom speeches. The first one I came across was by Igor Paskar. I thought, “My God, these are such young people — not the youngest, but still much younger than me — who have entered this fight.” Alexander Skobov’s speech also affected me emotionally, perhaps because he is about my age — a year or two younger — and, as you said, he bridges two eras.

I was particularly touched by the letter that he wrote to his partner, Olga Shcheglova. It was published in Novaya Gazeta Europe, and we also included it in the book. In the letter, Skobov explains that some of his friends and comrades urged him to leave Russia, but he refused. This made it inevitable that he would eventually face trial and imprisonment. In the letter, he explains that he wanted to communicate to the younger generation that the small group of dissidents he once belonged to — the socialist wing of the Soviet dissident movement — stands in solidarity with them in these difficult times. He wanted this message to be recorded in history.

I think that is a very important statement, and we all owe Alexander Skobov gratitude for linking these two historical periods through his sacrifice. I hope that including his statements in our book will help people in the West understand this continuity more clearly.

I will try to answer your question about how these movements are perceived. During the Soviet era, people in the West generally considered the dissident movement to be very small and marginal. Given how communication worked back then, it was very difficult for information to break through. Of course, there were large revolts against Soviet power, beginning with the Novocherkassk uprising in the 1960s and other violent revolts in the 1970s and 1980s. I have a friend in Ukraine who studied the major revolt that took place in Dniprodzerzhynsk. These movements were very short-lived, and we hardly knew about them in the West, even those of us who were interested in what was going on in the Soviet Union.

Today, Russians — and Ukrainians, of course — have a much greater opportunity to have real conversations with people in Western Europe. I think the powers of that time really succeeded in dividing Europe; there really was an iron curtain. But that’s gone now. Millions of Ukrainians and Russians live in Western Europe, the UK, and the US. People are learning to communicate with each other and work together in new ways.

We can already see examples of this in Germany, in the UK, and elsewhere. I think this conversation must continue — and our book, I think, is part of that ongoing dialogue.

Of course, it’s not easy to communicate with someone who is literally in a Russian prison. However, through the friends, comrades, and families of the central figures in our book, I hope this conversation will begin and continue over a long period of time.

‍— I wanted to ask specifically about the possibility of connecting the Russian-Ukrainian and Israeli-Palestinian agendas. We are, of course, impressed by the huge mobilization in support of Palestine. At the same time, many on the left are frustrated that active support for Ukraine — a country in a situation in some ways similar to that of Palestine — is far less widespread in Europe and the West. Have there been any positive developments in this regard recently?

— Since October 2023, we have all watched with horror as Israel’s assault on Gaza has unfolded. It has been widely recognized as a genocide, and we now see a larger and more enduring anti-war movement in Western countries than we have seen in decades — comparable perhaps only to the protests against the US-UK invasion of Iraq in 2003, or even the movement against the Vietnam War in the 1970s.

One of the reasons I felt it was important to translate these texts into English was to show Western audiences how much the Russian anti-war movement has in common with movements here. Of course, their enemies are different, standing on opposite sides of the geopolitical divide, and there are many other differences as well. Yet the similarities are striking — and deeply significant. The motivations of some of those who gave these courtroom speeches — whose statements we have translated — are very similar to those of activists in the UK who have been arrested for supporting Palestine Action, or of those who joined the flotilla recently stopped by Israeli forces as it attempted to reach Gaza.

I spent much of last year attending the large British demonstrations against Israel’s assault on Gaza and calling for a ceasefire. Together with friends, we carried a banner stating: “From Ukraine to Palestine, occupation is a crime.” Our group wanted to show our fellow demonstrators that Ukraine’s struggle for national self-determination and the Palestinians’ struggle for freedom from Israeli occupation share something essential — the right to decide their futures, free from foreign interference and military threats.

We received a very interesting response from other marchers. Those familiar with the politics of the so-called left and socialist movements will recognize the reaction we encountered from a small minority, mostly older people, who said things like: “Why are you siding with Ukraine? Ukraine is just a plaything of the Western powers, a puppet of NATO. Why even talk about this issue?” Yet the overwhelming majority — more than ninety percent — of those who approached us said, “Ah, yes, we hadn’t thought about it that way before, but there really is something in common between these struggles.”

Another major obstacle to unity comes not only from the “campism” of certain leftists — those who focus exclusively on American and British imperialism while downplaying or excusing Russian imperialism — but also from the state, the mainstream press, and government propaganda. The official narrative is consistently supportive of Ukraine and entirely condemnatory of Palestinian resistance. Ordinary people sense this imbalance — the racism and discrimination directed at the Palestinian cause, alongside the establishment’s favoritism toward Ukraine. There is some truth in that: the propaganda machinery of our ruling class here is largely sympathetic to Ukraine. Working-class people in the UK and across Europe notice this and grow suspicious. However, I believe that is a suspicion we can overcome — and that has been our experience.

All of this is my personal opinion. The purpose of the book, however, is to bring to English-speaking readers the voices of our friends and comrades in Russia — those brave people who have found themselves in court and who, in some cases at the risk of additional years in prison, have chosen to exercise their constitutional right (though not always respected by judges) to deliver a final statement before the court. It is a remarkably courageous and difficult decision.

‍— I wanted to thank you for the book, and I also wanted to ask you, since you have been interested in this topic for a long time: how did your interest in it arise, and why has Russia become so important to you?

— My connection with Russia began through the labour movement. I first went to Russia in 1990 — to Prokopyevsk, in western Siberia, where the miners’ strikes of 1989 had first broken out. At that time, I was working as a journalist for the mineworkers’ trade union here in the UK. We saw an opportunity to develop links of solidarity between Soviet miners and British miners. And we had some success. Our friends in the British miners’ union established a very close relationship with the Independent Miners’ Union of Western Donbas, based in Pavlograd. This friendship continues even today.

In those days, I was a member of a Trotskyist organisation, and in August 1990, we organised a meeting in Moscow to mark the 40th anniversary of Trotsky’s assassination. This, too, was part of a conversation between Western socialists and people in Russia and Ukraine that had been practically impossible during the “Cold War.”

I continued to follow what’s going on in Russia and Ukraine, and to write about it, and between 2007 and 2021, I worked at a research institute, writing about the energy sectors of those countries.

Since the pandemic, I haven’t been back to Russia. On February 24th, 2022, when the invasion began, I was at home and was shocked. We were all shocked. The invasion has changed everything, both in Ukraine and Russia, for many years to come. Together with friends, we began translating these courtroom speeches and posting them online. Gradually, that work grew into the idea of making a book.

I hope your readers will read it. Later this year, we’re going to make the book freely available as a PDF, so that everyone can access it.

If we do make any money — and I should say it is a very cheap book — all proceeds will go to Memorial and political prisoners. Nobody is making a profit from this project. The whole point is to share these voices with a much wider audience.

Source: Ivan Rechnoy, “We Wanted to Show the Whole Range of Anti-War Resistance in Russia,” Posle, 22 October 2025

Sale! ~~£15.00~~ £12.00

VOICES AGAINST PUTIN’S WAR
Protesters’ defiant speeches in Russian courts

Speeches by Alexei Gorinov, Igor Paskar, Bohdan Ziza, Mikhail Kriger, Andrei Trofimov, Sasha Skochilenko, Aleksandr Skobov, Darya Kozyreva, Alexei Rozhkov, Ruslan Siddiqi, Kirill Butylin and Savelii Morozov.

Foreword by John McDonnell, Member of UK Parliament

Edited by Simon Pirani

ISBN: 978-1-872242-45-3 (paperback)
e-ISBN: 978-1-872242-47-7 (e-book)
RRP: £15 (pbk)
e-RRP: £7 (Ebook)
196 pages; 140x216mm.
Publication date: September 2025

The E-book can be purchased at the usual online retailers
Any profits will be donated to Memorial: Support for Political Prisoners https://memohrc.org/en

Source: Resistance Books

VOICES AGAINST PUTIN’S WARProtesters’ defiant speeches in Russian courts

Speeches by Alexei Gorinov, Igor Paskar, Bohdan Ziza, Mikhail Kriger, Andrei Trofimov, Sasha Skochilenko, Aleksandr Skobov, Darya Kozyreva, Alexei Rozhkov, Ruslan Siddiqi, Kirill Butylin and Savelii Morozov.

Foreword by John McDonnell, Member of UK Parliament

Edited by Simon Pirani

ISBN: 978-1-872242-45-3 (paperback)e-ISBN: 978-1-872242-47-7 (e-book)RRP: £15 (pbk)e-RRP: £7 (Ebook)196 pages; 140x216mm.Publication date: September 2025

VOICES AGAINST PUTIN’S WAR
Protesters’ defiant speeches in Russian courts

ISBN: 978-1-872242-45-3 (paperback)
e-ISBN: 978-1-872242-47-7 (e-book)
RRP: £15 (pbk)
e-RRP: £7 (Ebook)
196 pages; 140x216mm.
Publication date: September 2025