25 Years for Criticizing the Kremlin
25 Years for Criticizing the Kremlin
A Russian dissident’s final speech as he faces imprisonment.
Russian activist and journalist Vladimir Kara-Murza was today sentenced to 25 years in jail for speaking out against Putin’s war in Ukraine. A Moscow court found him guilty of treason, of circulating “fake news,” and of participating in an “undesirable organization.”
Even before troops first crossed the Ukrainian border last year, the authoritarian noose was tightening in Russia. In 2021, the government imprisoned opposition leader Alexei Navalny, who was reported last week to be the victim of a suspected poisoning in his jail cell. Following the invasion, Putin further suppressed dissent, prompting thousands of journalists and dissidents to continue their work in exile.
Yet Kara-Murza’s sentence—the longest handed down to an opponent of the Kremlin in the post-Soviet era—appears to mark a disturbing escalation in domestic oppression. In his final plea last week, Kara-Murza made a speech defending his actions, which include significant lobbying to encourage the adoption of sanctions by the United States under the 2012 Magnitsky Act. The judge at his trial was on the Magnitsky list.
Below, we are publishing an English translation of Kara-Murza’s final remarks to the court.
—The Editors
After two decades spent in Russian politics, after all that I have seen and experienced, I was sure that nothing could surprise me any more. I must admit that I was wrong.
I’ve been surprised by how far my trial, in its secrecy and contempt for legal norms, has surpassed even the “trials” of Soviet dissidents in the 1960s and 1970s. And that’s not even to mention the harsh sentence requested by the prosecution, or the talk of “enemies of the state.” In this respect, we’ve gone beyond the 1970s—all the way back to the 1930s.
As a historian, I believe this is an occasion for reflection.
At one point during my testimony, the presiding judge reminded me that one of the extenuating circumstances in my case was “remorse for what [the accused] has done.” And although there is little that’s funny about my current situation, I couldn’t help but smile: A criminal, of course, must repent of his deeds. I’m in jail for my political views. For speaking out against the war in Ukraine. For many years of struggle against Vladimir Putin’s dictatorship. For facilitating the adoption of personal international sanctions under the Magnitsky Act against human rights violators.
Not only do I not repent of any of this, I am proud of it. I am proud that [assassinated opposition politician] Boris Nemtsov brought me into politics. And I hope that he is not ashamed of me. I support every word that I have spoken and every word of which I have been accused by this court. I blame myself for only one thing: that over the years of my political activity I have not managed to convince enough of my compatriots and enough politicians in democratic countries of the danger that the current regime in the Kremlin poses for Russia and for the world. Today this is obvious to everyone, but at a terrible price—the price of war.
In their last statements to the court, defendants usually ask for an acquittal. For a person who has not committed any crimes, acquittal would be the only fair verdict. But I do not ask this court for anything. I know the verdict. I knew it a year ago when I saw people in black uniforms and black masks running after my car in the rear-view mirror. Such is the price for speaking up in Russia today.
But I also know that the day will come when the darkness over our country will evaporate. When black will be called black and white will be called white; when it will be officially recognized that two times two is still four; when a war will be called a war, and a usurper a usurper; and when those who fostered and unleashed this war will be recognised as criminals, rather than those who tried to stop it.
This day will come as spring comes after even the coldest winter. And then our society will open its eyes and be horrified by what terrible crimes were committed on its behalf. Through this realization, through this reflection, the long, difficult, but vital path toward Russia’s recovery and restoration begins: its return to the community of civilized countries.
Even today, even in the darkness surrounding us, even sitting in this cage, I love my country and believe in our people. I believe that we can walk this path.
This translation of Vladimir Kara-Murza’s remarks was originally published at opendemocracy.net.
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Here we have another reminder that the arc of history does not naturally bend toward justice. Tyrants and their sycophants do not willingly exit stage left. The arc of history bends toward justice only because of the efforts of those heroes who are willing to risk their lives and livelihoods for their beliefs.
My deepest admiration and respect to those Russians willing to speak out against Putin. Thoughts and prayers with all of them.