Five myths about Putin’s foes

They're not leaderless, they're not all middle class and they don't want a revolution.

It’s fashionable to see Russia’s opposition as the Moscow stirrings of a “global middle class” making protest waves from Brasilia to Istanbul. Forget it. Russia’s underground is not what it seems.

Myth 1 – This is a leaderless network

Rather the exact opposite. Russia’s opposition is a one-man show called Alexey Navalny. Politically he is populist, a cross between an Islamophobe and a liberal. But Navalny sells his absolute charisma before his policies. After a decade of faceless Putinist bureaucrats every night on the evening news – his Aryan looks and laugh-out-loud wit have electrified a capital bored without politics.

Navalny understood the initial December 2011 protests were his big chance. Whilst other actors dawdled – he become the movement’s orator. By the end he was its uncontested leader. Ever since Navalny has been so good at shining like a white knight fighting “the bloodsuckers” – the opposition had become the Navalny movement.

However, building proper opposition institutions failed. Online election for the opposition “parliament” flopped. The Kremlin barred their attempts to register a party. Then it frightened away a real funding base. Hamstrung, the opposition fell short in the local elections outside Moscow.

This has turned the opposition into a leader cult. The “other Russia” has pinned all its hopes and all initiative on Navalny himself. Ironically, Putin has only reinforced this. Threatening to jail Navalny has underscored his bravery and built up his legend. Polls show his name recognition and popularity soaring.

Leader cults are tricky things to kill. Mr. Putin is now in awkward position. Throwing the “hero” into a Siberian prison camp will turn him into Russia’s Nelson Mandela. Nor can he leave him ta large nibbling away at his own cult of invincibility.

Navalny’s cult of personality is troublesome for the opposition too – detracting from the hard, necessary task of building a movement like Poland’s Solidarity that could turn people power on Putin.

Myth 2 – They are middle class

Russia now has a huge middle class. But don’t think of all them as supporting radical change. As it stands roughly a third of Russians can be considered middle class – making over $30,000 a year.

But Russians are quick to remind you – being middle class does not make you “independent.” Roughly 50 per cent are state employees. Fear keeps most of them off the streets. In Russia’s enormous outback its doctors, teachers and bureaucrats would never dream of taking to the streets. They know that is a sure fire way to lose your jobs.

So forget the idea of the revolt of the “middle class.” Despite its huge size (up to 40m people) the scale of dissent is still tiny. There are roughly 80,000 hardcore Navalny supporters and no more than 400,000 loosely affiliated ones. Who are the people actually protesting and throwing themselves into the frenzy of online activism?

First, this is a Moscow affair. Almost forty per cent of the opposition leader’s almost 400,000 Twitter followers are in the capital. Not even St. Petersburg scrapes above five per cent. Second, this is something well to do. There is a snobbish tinge and an elitist, clubby feeling to opposition circles. The leading lights of the movement – like their followers – are both richer and better educated than the rest. Russians talk about them as being “intelligentsia” – from a class of professionals, intellectuals and civil servants. Their Britain equivalent would be the London upper middle class with a strong Oxbridge component.

Myth 3 – They are pro-western

Russia’s opposition movement is pro what they call “European values.” That means a free media, free speech, free assembly and visa free travel to the west. They broadly think that Vladimir Putin’s anti-American and anti-British propaganda is hysterical and faintly silly.

Just don’t confuse them for passionate supporters of NATO or the EU. These are no adulators of the west. Navalny and his team increasingly see Europe – especially British elites – as complicit in the “pillage” of Russia as stolen billions find a safe haven in London property, the French Riviera or Austrian banks. Just like Putin supporters they are irritated by European “lecturing” and American “hypocrisy.”

Navalny does not have a NATO worldview. He believes that Russia, Belarus and Ukraine should reunite into one great power. He passionately supports the “independent” South Ossetia and Abkhazia carved out of Georgia. He would even recognize the Russian enclave of Transdinestria in Moldova – something that would horrify Brussels.

Myth 4 – They’ve had no impact

It’s tempting to dismiss the Russian opposition as having had no impact. It’s also not true. They have made Russia much more repressive, xenophobic and homophobic by accident in a Kremlin crackdown.

Navalny’s campaigning has also forced policy action. Putin has started trying to shore up its public support in a frenzies series of policy initiatives – stolen from the opposition. There has been a purge of corrupt officials and billions are about to be invested in bad roads.

This is most evident in Moscow. Navalny is running for Mayor making the Kremlin throw huge wads of cash into public goods neglected for years. Putin’s candidate had stolen opposition battle cries like battling illegal immigration. He has even installed a cycle hire scheme. Before Navalny’s surge it was inconceivable the Moscow authorities would have done something like this – because people wanted it.

Myth 5 - They want a revolution

Not one bit. Russians, even those protesting, are terrified of revolution. What the opposition hopes to achieve is to delegitimize Putin and his cronies – those they accuse of pillaging Russia – amongst the rulers of Russia and their apparatchiks.

The aim is to make Putin a liability. The hope is that the closer we get to the 2016 parliamentary and 2018 presidential elections an ever increasing number of petrol barons, police chiefs and provincial governors will realize repression will cost them their positions. The hope is they will ditch Putin – and install a new leader who could legitimize them before finally hold fair elections. Of course, Mr. Navalny aspires to be that man. 

Ben Judah is the author of Fragile Empire: How Russia Fell In And Out Love With Vladimir Putin. His full article is published by IPPR in their quarterly journal Juncture

Russian opposition leader Alexey Navalny delivers a speech on August 25, 2013 in Moscow during a campaign rally for the Moscow mayoral election. Photograph: Getty Images.

Ben Judah is the author of Fragile Empire: How Russia Fell In And Out Love With Vladimir Putin.

A woman in an Indian surrogacy hostel. Photo: Getty
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The Handmaid's Tale has already come true - just not for white western women

Why, if the fate of the fictional Offred is so horrifying, is the fate of real-life women in surrogacy hostels causing so little outrage?

When anti-choice Republican Justin Humphrey referred to pregnant women as “hosts”, I found myself wondering, not for the first time, whether everything had got “a bit Handmaid’s Tale.”

I’m not alone in having had this thought. Since Donald Trump won the US election, sales of Margaret Atwood’s dystopian novel have spiked and we’ve seen a plethora of articles telling us how “eerily relevant [it] is to our current political landscape.” In an interview during Cuba’s international book fair, Atwood herself said she believes the recent “bubbling up” of regressive attitudes towards women is linked to The Handmaid’s Tale’s current success: “It’s back to 17th-century puritan values of New England at that time in which women were pretty low on the hierarchy … you can think you are being a liberal democracy but then — bang — you’re Hitler’s Germany.”

Scary stuff. Still, at least most present-day readers can reassure themselves that they’ve not arrived in the Republic of Gilead just yet.

For those who have not yet read it, The Handmaid’s Tale tells the story of Offred, who lives under a theocratic dictatorship in what used to be the United States of America. White, middle-class and college-educated, Offred once enjoyed a significant degree of privilege, but now belongs to a class of women whose sole purpose is to gestate offspring for high-status couples. Much of the shock value of the story comes from the contrast between Offred’s former life – in which she had a name of her own - and her present-day existence. If this can happen to someone like Offred, it is suggested, surely it can happen to any of us.

Or so that is what a white, middle-class reader – a reader like me – might tell herself. Recently I’ve started to wonder whether that’s strictly true. It can be reassuring to stick to one narrative, one type of baddie – the religious puritan, the pussy-grabbing president, the woman-hating Right. But what if it’s more complicated than that? There’s something about the current wallowing in Atwood’s vision that strikes me as, if not self-indulgent, then at the very least naive.

In 1985, the same year The Handmaid’s Tale was published, Gina Correa published The Mother Machine. This was not a work of dystopian fiction, but a feminist analysis of the impact of reproductive technologies on women’s liberties. Even so, there are times when it sounds positively Handmaid’s Tale-esque:

“Once embryo transfer technology is developed, the surrogate industry could look for breeders – not only in poverty-stricken parts of the United States, but in the Third World as well. There, perhaps, one tenth of the current fee could be paid to women”

Perhaps, at the time her book was written, Correa’s imaginings sounded every bit as dark and outlandish as Atwood’s. And yet she has been proved right. Today there are parts of the world in which renting the womb of a poor woman is indeed ten times cheaper than in the US. The choice of wealthy white couples to implant embryos in the bodies of brown women is seen, not as colonialist exploitation, but as a neutral consumer choice. I can’t help wondering why, if the fate of the fictional Offred is so horrifying to western feminists today, the fate of real-life women in surrogacy hostels is causing so little outrage.

I suppose the main argument of these feminists would be that real-life women choose to be surrogates, whereas Offred does not. But is the distinction so clear? If Offred refuses to work as a handmaid, she may be sent to the Colonies, where life expectancy is short. Yet even this is a choice of sorts. As she herself notes, “nothing is going on here that I haven't signed up for. There wasn't a lot of choice but there was some, and this is what I chose.” In the real world, grinding poverty drives women of colour to gestate the babies of the wealthy. As one Indian surrogate tells interviewer Seemi Pasha, “Why would I be a surrogate for someone else if I don't need the money? Why would I make myself go through this pain?"

None of the feminists who expressed shock at Justin Humphrey referring to pregnant women as “hosts” have, as far as I am aware, expressed the same horror at surrogacy agencies using the exact same term. As Dorothy Roberts wrote in Killing The Black Body, the notion of reproductive liberty remains “primarily concerned with the interests of white, middle-class women” and  “focused on the right to abortion.” The right not just to decide if and when to have children, but to have children of one’s own – something women of colour have frequently been denied – can be of little interest of those who have never really feared losing it (hence the cloth-eared response of many white women to Beyoncè’s Grammy performance).

As Roberts notes, “reproductive liberty must encompass more than the protection of an individual woman’s choice to end her pregnancy”:

“It must encompass the full range of procreative activities, including the ability to bear a child, and it must acknowledge that we make reproductive decisions within a social context, including inequalities of wealth and power. Reproductive freedom is a matter of social justice, not individual choice.”

It’s easy to mock the pretensions to pro-life piety of a pussy-grabbing president. But what about the white liberal left’s insistence that criticising the global trade in sexual and gestational services is “telling a women what she can and cannot do with her body” and as such is illiberal and wrong? “Individual choice” can be every bit as much of a false, woman-hating god as the one worshipped by the likes of Humphrey and Trump.

One of the most distressing scenes in The Handmaid’s Tale takes place when Janine/Ofwarren has just given birth and has her child taken from her:

“We stand between Janine and the bed, so she won’t have to see this. Someone gives her a drink of grape juice. I hope there’s wine in it, she’s still having the pains, for the afterbirth, she’s crying helplessly, burnt-out miserable tears.”

Right now there are women suffering in just this way. Only they’re probably not white, nor middle-class, nor sitting in a twee white bedroom in Middle America. Oh, and they’re not fictional, either.

The dystopian predictions of 1985 have already come true. It’s just that women like me didn’t notice until we started to be called “hosts”, too.

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.