There are two kinds of people in the world: those who can count.
Seriously, the two kinds of people are those who experience the emotion of fear, and those who do not.
Actually, scratch that: everybody experiences the emotion of fear. There may once have been human beings who did not know what it meant to be afraid, but they were all eaten by sabertooth tigers millions of years ago.
Some of us are wussier than others, of course, but everybody fears something and adjusts his or her behavior accordingly. Children fear their parents and teachers. Adults fear their spouses and bosses. Politicians fear their voters. University administrators, in 2023, fear their students. At least one cable news channel so fears its viewers, it will pay out nine-figure defamation settlements in lieu of telling its audience the truth.
Even I have a “drafts” folder full of half-finished posts which I’ve been wary of completing and posting, for fear of angering my subscribers and possibly even harming my professional reputation.
Being courageous is not about lacking the emotion of fear. It's about doing what you believe to be right despite your fear.
Which brings us to Vladimir Kara-Murza, a Russian dissident sentenced to twenty-five years in prison for criticizing the Russian invasion of Ukraine.
Not fighting on the Ukrainian side. Not carrying out acts of sabotage against Russian military assets or infrastructure. Just speaking out against it.
And, at his sentencing hearing, he spoke out again.
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.
Kara-Murza has suffered some mysterious “illnesses” since he began speaking out against Putin’s regime, and he was outside of the country when the “special military operation” in Ukraine began. He went back to Russia to speak out in person.
If this guy were alive during the caveman years, it’s not that he wouldn’t have been afraid of the sabertooth tiger terrorizing the tribe. I’m sure he would have been absolutely terrified. But he’d nevertheless run up to it with a big sharpened stick and start swinging and poking away, because someone had to do it to protect everyone else.
In online debates about the Russian invasion of Ukraine, even knowing full well the shocking atrocities carried out by the aggressors, I have pushed back against those who demonize and dehumanize the Russian people collectively.
Yes, I know there are polls showing overwhelming support for Putin and the war. And Enver Hoxha, Stalinist dictator of Albania, won the 1982 Presidential election by a margin of 1,627,959 votes to 1. (The one vote against was a write-in for Kanye West, or so I’m told.)
There are indeed many Russians who are all-in on the invasion of Ukraine. And many more who just keep their heads down and keep their concerns to themselves, knowing full well what happens to people who speak up. Such is the way in almost every country ruled by an authoritarian dictator.
And there are those who know the risks but whose consciences won’t allow them to keep quiet. They should shame and inspire their fellow Russians into action. For that matter, they should shame and inspire the rest of us to speak out when we know something is wrong.
In a world of Tucker Carlsons, be a Vladmir Kara-Murza.
Inspiring piece. Thanks.