Russian Environmental Activist on Engaging People Under Putin
Russian
Environmental Activist on Engaging People Under Putin
By: Emily Tamkin
Taken from: Foreign Policy
So said Evgenia
Chirikova, Russian environmental activist. Chirikova has lived (on a Russian
passport) in Estonia since 2015. Prior to that, she lived in Khimki, outside of
Moscow, and worked against the construction of a motorway from Moscow to St.
Petersburg that would cut through Khimki forest — and, through French company
Vinci and offshore accounts, allegedly to enrich Arkady Rotenberg, personal
friend of Russian President Vladimir Putin. She is one of a surprising number
of Russians, given the stakes in Russia today and limited attention and support
from abroad, who attempt to stand up to the state.
Chirikova was
ultimately unable to halt the construction of the motorway (although, in 2010,
Dmitri Medvedev, then president of Russia, issued a temporary moratorium on the
project). But in the process of trying, Chirikova and her group, Save Khimki
Forest Movement, brought thousands out to protest and collected tens of
thousands of signatures, and found that, contrary to popular western belief,
Russian grassroots run deep.
Grassroots
activism, Chirikova explained in an interview with Foreign Policy between sips
of her very sugary coffee, is very different from NGOs. It’s thousands of
people coming together to fight for issues that directly impact their lives,
and it’s evidenced not only in Khimki, but all over Russia. Offering examples
of environmental activism alone, Chirikova pointed to Karelia, where pensioners
protested in 2016; to Chelyabinsk, where a group of activists, foresters, and
bloggers came together to prevent planned construction in the summer of 2010;
to Moscow, where the capital’s citizens protest loss of green space, and, in
particular, their Friendship Park just last summer.
They are also
protesting corruption, as Chirikova herself was. It is widely believed that
construction projects, particularly in places that make construction difficult,
are meant to enrich Putin’s inner circle. “Each problem in Russia,” she said,
be it environmental or social, “is a question of corruption.”
Corruption has the
added benefit of being something the average person can understand. “Corruption
is a winning issue for opposition-minded activists,” Timothy Frye, head of
Columbia University’s political science department, told FP. The population may
not be swayed by high-minded ideals that they see as divorced from their
everyday life, but corruption, which permeates everyday life, they can
understand. And, contrary to popular belief, “all the survey evidence suggests
that Russians really don’t like corruption very much,” Frye said.
Still, activists struggle
to get their message out. “It’s really very difficult to work against Putin’s
propaganda,” Chirikova conceded, particularly given the difference in resources
between Russian grassroots activists and the Kremlin.
There have been
some slow, hard-won gains. Some members of Chirikova’s Khimki group are now
deputies in local councils. (Frye notes activists are in local councils even in
Moscow, although their abilities to actually enact change are limited). And,
from Estonia, where Chirikova moved after authorities threatened to take her
children away, she runs a site intended to raise awareness on grassroots
activism, give Russian activists resources based on her experiences, and to
connect people all over Russia. She has also, from a distance, found perspective
on those who support Putin.
“In Russia, I was
very aggressive against people who support Putin. Against propaganda. And I was
angry,” she said. “I think that when you’re angry, you cannot understand any
people. You cannot support these people. And I think that propaganda, it’s like
poison. And it’s not the problem of people they take this poison. It’s the
problem of Putin regime.”
Now, she says, “I
only pity these people.” Which, she concludes, is better — and more productive
— than hate.



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