The Ardour of Alexei Navalny’s Memoir


The story of Alexei Navalny isn’t humorous. How may or not it’s? We all know the way it ends. The Russian dissident died underneath mysterious circumstances in a jail camp above the Arctic Circle final February, alone, nonetheless combating. He had already spent three years in brutal incarceration following a poisoning that had almost killed him.

And but, humor is essential to understanding Navalny and his enchantment. He stood as much as Vladimir Putin, exposing corruption, however he additionally mocked and scoffed: a jester pointing and guffawing on the bare czar, excited by the prospect to deflate males whose chests had been puffed with energy into tiny hypocrites and liars, asking the way it was that these servants of the folks had been capable of purchase half-million-dollar watches and secret waterfront palaces.

Humor additionally appears to be what buttressed Navalny as he confronted the results of this braveness, sitting in a single bleak jail cell after one other.

When the Russian state started accumulating prison circumstances in opposition to him whereas he was already locked away, even charging him with someway having “rehabilitated Nazism,” he needed to snicker. “Hardly ever has an inmate in solitary confinement for greater than a 12 months had such a vibrant social and political life,” he wrote in his diary. When he undertook a starvation strike that dropped his weight to what it had been in eighth grade, he sadly reported, “I nonetheless don’t have a six-pack.” The small absurdities made him snicker, too. He managed early in his detention to order a big cargo of tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions, and was exhilarated on the likelihood to make a salad, however then realized that in any case that, he’d forgotten to order salt. Arriving after an arduous two-week journey at what can be his final jail, within the far north, a land of frost and reindeer, he smuggled out an Instagram message for his tens of millions of anxious followers that started, “I’m your new Santa Claus.”

This attraction and good nature shall be acquainted to those that have seen the documentary Navalny. However now, with the publication of Navalny’s memoir, Patriot, the prospect to listen to his personal written voice, to spend severe time with him (almost 500 pages), solely reinforces this impression, together with the ache of getting misplaced him. He labored on this guide totally conscious that it could possibly be his “memorial,” he wrote. And even about this he had a humorousness: “In the event that they whack me,” he defined, at the least his household may revenue from the proceeds. “Let’s face it, if a murky assassination try utilizing a chemical weapon, adopted by a tragic demise in jail, can’t transfer a guide, it’s laborious to think about what would. The guide’s writer has been murdered by a villainous president; what extra may the advertising and marketing division ask for?”

Humorous, although probably not anymore.

The memoir is an opportunity to commune with the thoughts of a dissident. It’s not at all times a fairly or snug place. I even questioned if it takes a sort of psychological sickness to place the pursuit of freedom above your individual bodily security and your loved ones’s well-being. This single-mindedness is stunning to confront in such uncooked kind. His instance appears not possible to emulate, however the qualities he had in abundance and that gave him his superhuman willpower—the humor, sure, but in addition an unimaginable diploma of religion—are vital to establish, as a result of they’re what true dissidence calls for. As I learn, I grieved, not only for Navalny the person, however for the thought of an individual like him.

Navalny first got down to write a memoir in 2020, whereas he was recuperating in Germany from being poisoned with a nerve agent in a virtually profitable assassination try—Russia had reluctantly agreed to let him get medical therapy there. At first he was in a coma; then he needed to be taught to stroll and communicate once more. He additionally started this guide, opening it along with his noirish account of being felled by the poison whereas on a flight from Siberia to Moscow.

In January 2021, after half a 12 months of restoration, he determined to return to Russia regardless of realizing that he was sure to face Putin’s wrath. He was arrested on the airport, and his odyssey via the justice and penal methods started. He saved writing, however in some unspecified time in the future his chronological narrative grew to become a jail diary. As Putin saved stacking fees, the circumstances of his imprisonment deteriorated. He spent 295 days within the solitary confinement of a punishment cell. He was allowed to make use of pen and paper for less than an hour and a half every day, after which solely half an hour.

As a result of his circumstances modified, the guide did as effectively. The primary half is a traditional autobiography, describing Navalny’s Soviet youth and his political awakening and combat in opposition to corruption, whereas the second half combines his diaries with the Instagram posts that his attorneys posted for him up till the ultimate one, on January 17 of this 12 months.

Probably the most revealing query to ask about Navalny—the one he was aggravated that individuals, even his whispering jail guards, requested him always—was why he’d returned. Why, when he knew solely arrest and really presumably loss of life awaited him? The reply was “simple” and “easy,” he wrote. He had his nation, and he had his convictions. He couldn’t flip his again on both. “In case your convictions imply one thing, you should be ready to face up for them and make sacrifices if obligatory,” he wrote. “And when you’re not ready to try this, you haven’t any convictions. You simply suppose you do. However these are usually not convictions and rules; they’re solely ideas in your head.”

The account of Navalny’s childhood within the dying days of the Soviet Union has the identical slicing readability. He describes how his mother and father used to place a cushion over their phone every time they wished to have conversations about subjects that appeared even remotely delicate, “just like the impossibility of discovering Bulgarian ketchup within the outlets and having to get within the queue for meat at 5 o’clock within the morning.” He couldn’t see, he writes, “what there was to be afraid of.” As for Russians’ lingering well-liked nostalgia for the Soviet Union, he swats it away in a sentence: “A state incapable of manufacturing sufficient milk for its residents doesn’t deserve my nostalgia.”

It’s honest to ask how a lot of this projection of an absence of worry or wavering is an invention for his followers. Even in his diary entries, he is aware of he has an viewers. I discovered just one second, within the depths of a 24-day starvation strike, when Navalny admits to feeling “crushed,” for the primary time “emotionally and morally down.” In any other case he maintains, time and again, a face each smiling and resolute.

If his mind-set stays obscured behind a masks of fixed braveness and surety, he reveals rather more about his battered physique. The diaries are a catalog of his bodily well-being. They don’t point out politics in any respect, besides within the vaguest phrases. This omission might effectively have been necessitated by surveillance—his prisons had cameras in all places, even on the our bodies of the guards who handled him.

What we encounter principally on this writing are his bodily trials. Navalny has horrible again issues, at one level shedding feeling in his legs. His ache is fixed, and the picket planks and steel beds he sleeps on don’t assist. The meals and temperature are day by day preoccupations. He struggles to maintain himself nourished. It’s both freezing or sweltering (“It’s so sizzling in my cell you may hardly breathe. You’re feeling like a fish tossed onto a shore, craving for contemporary air”). He particulars the degradation of the strip searches each time he enters or leaves the jail, the fixed checks by guards who wake him up at night time or make him empty his cell at random intervals in order that they’ll rifle via his belongings.

This struggling has a Christlike high quality—and Navalny is aware of it. “Are you a disciple of the faith whose founder sacrificed himself for others, paying the worth for his or her sins?” he asks, laying down a problem for the reader and himself. “In case you can truthfully reply sure, what’s there left so that you can fear about?” And as soon as all of his books besides the Bible are taken away, he even units out to memorize the Sermon on the Mount—in three languages. By returning to Russia, he has offered himself willingly as a sacrifice, and by the unhappy logic we see unfolding within the diaries, each torment serves as additional proof that he’s getting underneath Putin’s pores and skin. His loss of life, he additionally accepts, can be the last word proof of the facility of his fact—and possibly present his followers with the martyr they want. When his spouse, Yulia, comes to go to him in jail, he manages to convey one unsurveilled message to her, whispered in a hallway, and it’s this: Let’s assume that I’m going to die right here, that I’m by no means getting out. She agrees, and he’s overjoyed that she, too, has accepted his destiny; they embrace.

This religion helps him. For many of his incarceration, the opposite prisoners are forbidden from talking to him. However he recounts a narrative about one man, Nikitin, troubled with “spiritual mania,” who appears aggravated by the presence of the superstar prisoner. At some point, out of nowhere, Nikitin quietly arms over a laminated card to Navalny with the phrases A Prayer to the Archangel and an illustration of an angel. “Alexei, right here take this and maintain it with you,” Nikitin tells him. Navalny places the cardboard in his breast pocket and has a second of his personal spiritual ecstasy. The authorities need him to really feel alone, forgotten. Nikitin has given him an indication that he’s not: “the proof of that’s fluttering its little wings in my breast pocket.”

The scene may have been written by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, like a lot of the fervour of Navalny, besides that there are jarring reminders on almost each web page that that is occurring in our world. Two prisoners watch Billie Eilish on tv and argue about how outdated she is; Harry Potter is often talked about; Navalny will get letters from younger girls letting him know that he’s been designated a “crush” on TikTok. Remembering his poisoning, he additionally writes about how a lot he loves the cartoon Rick and Morty, which he was watching on his laptop computer when the toxin took impact. At one level, he fantasizes about going with Yulia to New York Metropolis and consuming oysters and consuming Bloody Marys at their favourite bistro, Balthazar.

Navalny doesn’t point out Dostoyevsky, however he does consult with Leo Tolstoy, writing that his favourite novel is Struggle and Peace—with one caveat. He doesn’t agree with Tolstoy’s view of historical past, during which, as Navalny summarizes it, “the function of the person” is “zilch.” Tolstoy used his novel as an instance the concept that historical past is formed by massive, unpredictable forces and occasions, not by nice males—not even Napoleon. However Navalny has seen the best way that Gorbachev and Yeltsin and, lastly, Putin have imprinted their flawed personalities on the nation, how their proclivities have altered its route, and he doesn’t purchase the notion {that a} chief’s character doesn’t matter.

Navalny himself, his life and loss of life, is perhaps one of the best counterexample to Tolstoy’s concept. Who else however somebody with such reserves of fortitude, with such a way of self, with such a capability to snicker but in addition imagine, would have the ability to stand up to such indignity, such psychological torture? He allowed himself, his precise physique, to signify one other sort of Russia, a freer nation. And he did so realizing that he may by no means really ever see it along with his personal eyes.


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