Pavel Sulyandziga, Dmitry Berezhkov “We Have Learned to Understand You to Defend Ourselves: The Dialectics of Yulia Navalnaya’s Slovenian Theses”

September 10, 2024

“The price of greatness is responsibility,” said British Prime Minister Winston Churchill during his visit to Harvard University in 1943. This phrase remains a treasure of global political thought, defining the boundaries of what is acceptable for public figures and simultaneously creating a collision between what is desired and what is possible. Recently, Yulia Navalnaya, the widow of the well-known Russian opposition politician Alexei Navalny, found herself in such a collision at a political forum in Slovenia.

After her husband’s assassination, Yulia Navalnaya became a symbol of resistance to Putin’s regime for many and turned into one of the most vocal representatives of the “Russian opposition.” It should be noted that the term “Russian opposition” is not particularly apt. It doesn’t carry significant meaning in the current conditions and may rather denote participants of “political emigration” rather than a real political opposition. However, it must be acknowledged that “political emigration” can, under favourable conditions, quickly become a political opposition or even gain real power (we all remember the history of the “sealed train”) in a given country.

At the strategic forum in Bled, Yulia Navalnaya delivered a speech on the need for Europe to stop making tactical decisions regarding Russia and instead develop a long-term strategy. Her impeccable political fundraising performance sparked extensive discussions within the “ethnic emigration” community, a term used to describe political activists and human rights defenders representing indigenous peoples and ethnic minorities of Russia who have found themselves in forced emigration.

With all due respect to Alexei Navalny, a brave and consistent political opponent of Putin, it should be recognized that many Ukrainians remember him for his phrase “Crimea is not a sandwich.” No subsequent actions or sacrifices could change this perception.

As a result of the Slovenian forum, Yulia Navalnaya risks being remembered by Russia’s non-Russian nations as someone who threatens (presumably after coming to power) to seek out those who are planning to “decolonize” Russia.

We will return to the form of Navalnaya’s speech, but the mere fact that the term “decolonization” was placed in quotation marks in the text of her political declaration indicates a desire to diminish its significance and present it as an artificial phenomenon, essentially making it appear insignificant.

However, decolonization is a much broader concept than just dividing large countries into smaller ones (as suggested by Yulia Navalnaya). Political practices of recent decades have demonstrated this. There are numerous interpretations of decolonization: decolonization of legislation, culture, art, science, cinema, and more.

Moreover, decolonization is becoming a dominant phenomenon in modern politics. How else can Putin’s war against Ukraine be described if not as “colonial”? And how else can Ukrainian resistance to the Russian army be described if not as anti-colonial? The empire wants to reclaim what it sees as its “own,” while the former colony resists.

Yulia Navalnaya, in her speech, condemns decolonization, equating it with simply dividing a large country into smaller and safer states: “It is supposedly necessary to divide our too-large country into a couple dozen small and safe states.”

But if we recall the classic definition of decolonization as the process by which European colonies gained political independence after World War II, we can assume that for some inhabitants of the vast British Empire (primarily the white population of the metropolis), its collapse was a tragedy, dividing a large country into dozens of smaller ones. However, for dozens of nations around the world, this process was an opportunity to gain independence, human dignity, and their national “self.” They likely didn’t care what British propaganda thought of them, as their goal was the chance to gain freedom and independence from the empire.

It is worth noting that deliberately diminishing or belittling a public phenomenon and its associated terminology is a special approach often used by representatives of the ruling class (though we hesitate to use Marxist terms, they fit well in this context) to counteract that phenomenon. This approach has been used in history before—recall Lenin’s famous phrase about “the intelligentsia, lackeys of capital who consider themselves the brain of the nation…”

For a public figure using such an approach, it is important to highlight their “correct” view of a phenomenon while simultaneously casting shadows or discrediting other interpretations. Following this logic, Vladimir Putin, discussing the collapse of the USSR, referred to it as “the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the 20th century,” without mentioning that thanks to this “catastrophe,” millions of residents in places like the Baltic states gained the opportunity to live in free and economically developed democracies.

In her statement about decolonizing Russia, Yulia Navalnaya almost word for word (excluding the specific jargon of a former KGB officer) reproduces Vladimir Putin’s hate-filled speeches against Ukraine and the West: “After the collapse of the USSR, our geopolitical adversaries undoubtedly set themselves the goal of further dismantling what remains of historical Russia, that is, collapsing its core, Russia itself—the Russian Federation—and subordinating everything that remains to their geopolitical interests. I speak confidently about this as a former director of the FSB…”

On this issue, Yulia Navalnaya willingly or unwillingly adopts the stance of a typical representative of the ruling class and retransmits Putin’s message about dividing the majority, without mentioning the possibility of gaining freedom for minorities.

The authors of this article understand the wave of outrage that Navalnaya’s speech provoked among ethnic activists and representatives of Russia’s indigenous nations, who assert that in the issue of self-determination of nations, “Putinists” and “Navalnyists” are the same; that it doesn’t matter who is in power in the Kremlin; that, in any case, its master automatically becomes a representative of imperial interests.

We remember the communists, who used an iron fist to suppress the aspirations for self-determination of the nations within the USSR while supporting it around the world, primarily in the territories of Western empires. Then came the Democrats led by Yeltsin. Those they couldn’t physically hold (the Union republics) were released. Where there was strength, they clung tightly (the two Chechen wars). Then came the Putinists, who began to extol the “greatest geopolitical catastrophe,” and then turned to the familiar military actions in Georgia, Crimea, Donbas, and the full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

And if Navalnaya were to come to power, would she do the same thing under the guise of democracy? How would Yulia Navalnaya handle Chechnya, for instance, where almost no Russian population remains and which, according to the democratic standards of the “Beautiful Russia of the Future” (BRF), might seek independence? Would she negotiate? Allow a referendum? Or would she argue that “we cannot divide our too-large country into a few dozen small and safe states” and send in the troops?

And if the Kremlin under Navalnaya’s leadership agrees to grant independence to Chechnya, and then Tuva, where the Russian population is about 10 per cent, asks for independence? Will there be differences in approach? If so, why? And how is Tuva different from Sakha (Yakutia)? And so on.

We don’t want to delve into long discussions, but it’s worth mentioning the passage about people with a “shared background and cultural context” in Yulia Navalnaya’s speech. In our view, the inhabitants of the USSR had a shared background, as do the current residents of Russia, as did those in Yugoslavia. Other examples can be recalled. We see right now how this “background” works by examining the reaction of Russians to the occupation of part of Kursk Oblast by Ukraine. Did they rush to defend Kursk Oblast, not giving up an “inch of Russian land,” or did they continue to visit theaters in Moscow and watch evening shows? That is the nature of this common background. On the surface, it exists, but in reality, it is not very common. The language is common—so is it with New Zealand and Great Britain.

The authors find it pointless to discuss this passage at length because we have closely followed the discussion that unfolded online after Yulia Navalnaya’s speech. We’ll just quote a few comments that give an idea of how “background” is perceived:

“Yulia, our shared background as Caucasians with you is such that you are historically occupiers. And our shared cultural context is absent; we have simply learned to understand you to protect ourselves, but you know absolutely nothing about us.”

“Then why should people with different backgrounds and cultural contexts live in one country?! You have more in common culturally with Ukrainians than with Chechens, yet Ukrainians do not want to live in the same country with you, while Chechens are supposed to?”

It would also be interesting to know how many volunteers Vladimir Putin would have recruited for the war with Ukraine if he didn’t pay enormous sums by Russian provincial standards or recruit people from prisons. How many volunteers would go to war in the name of “shared background”? And does Yulia understand how quickly the so-called “shared background” can become non-shared after another session in Belovezhskaya Pushcha?

For us, the most important aspect of such discussions is DIALOGUE—the ability to speak with both the strong and the weak, the “great” (to recall Churchill’s words) and the downtrodden and the impoverished.

But dialogue cannot be a monologue. Yulia Navalnaya’s speech at the forum in Slovenia can only be described as a monologue from a representative of the white, dominant majority. We would like to clarify that this characterization might seem tactless in the Russian context, but in international practice, and especially within decolonization discourse, such terms are not unusual.

In our view, this is the key reason for the outrage from representatives of ethnic minorities and indigenous nations (decolonization activists, if you will) regarding the discussions about the future by representatives of the current political emigration—advocates of the “Beautiful Russia of the Future.”

Their future—the future of decolonization activists, their relatives, and their nations—is being discussed without their participation, and they are being told how they will live. Isn’t this an imperial approach? In a similar vein, Vladimir Putin dictates how Ukraine should live within the framework of the “Beautiful Russia of Today,” but Ukraine, for some reason, has no desire for this.

For the indigenous, numerically small nations of the North, Siberia, and the Far East (as we have written about repeatedly), who live traditional lifestyles, the size of the country, the structure of governance, or the person in power are less important than the principle of the state’s commitment to democracy, human rights, and the rights of nations to self-determination. This principle can be successfully implemented both within a united state like the Beautiful Russia of the Future and within separate national entities.

For us, democracy, freedoms, and rights are primary—not the form of government or the name of the person in power. We hope there is no contradiction in this regard between us and the advocates of the “Beautiful Russia of the Future,” as well as with the representatives of the “League of Free Nations,” who propose dismantling the Russian Federation and creating independent national states in its place.

Continuing the discussion of Yulia Navalnaya’s thesis on decolonization, we recall an interview with the well-known representative of Russian “political emigration,” Gennady Gudkov, who also criticizes this term, stating that its inclusion in the PACE Resolution plays into Putin’s propaganda. In this context, we believe:

Putin’s propaganda does not care what Gennady Gudkov or ethnic activists say. Propaganda can turn anything into gold or trash, and vice versa. It doesn’t matter what material is fed into the furnace as fuel.

The influence of Gennady Gudkov, as well as Yulia Navalnaya and the overall “Russian opposition,” on the situation within Russia today is so minimal (we must unfortunately acknowledge this) that it is practically indistinguishable from the influence of ethnic activists demanding self-determination for their nations (which we must also regretfully acknowledge). These voices currently have little impact on the internal situation in Russia and are successfully used by Russian propaganda in the “holy war” against the West.

Thus, in our view, this discussion represents a pure competition of ideas—Gennady Gudkov and Yulia Navalnaya’s vision of the “Beautiful Russia of the Future” on one side and ethnic activists’ idea of “dismantling the empire” on the other. The dominance of Gudkov and Navalnaya’s position in the West is merely evidence that there are more Russians and fewer non-Russians, that Russian intellectual, financial, and administrative potential exceeds the “ethnic” potential. This is the case both within Russia and in emigration.

In general, this discussion is a replication of the decolonization discourse. If we draw a historical parallel, we can say that the Siberian nations, conquered by the Cossacks in the 16th–18th centuries, also had their own perspective on the events, but it was crushed by the viewpoint of the Cossacks, who represented the empire. Primarily because there were more Cossacks (literalists will quickly refute this thesis, but we mean that the empire could send endless waves of conquerors, while the conquered nations, quickly exterminated by firearms and diseases, were a finite group), the Cossacks were better educated, and their weapons surpassed those of the natives. Thus, in the case of Navalnaya and her Slovenian speech, we see a mere repetition of history.

In this article, we would also like to comment on the form of presentation of Yulia Navalnaya’s speech, prepared by her team. We observe that the main discussion following the speech focused on the substance—whether Russia is an empire and how it should be decolonized. However, few have paid attention to the presentation of the material, which we find equally important.

It should be noted that Navalnaya’s key thesis on decolonization, which triggered a fierce reaction from decolonization activists, was presented in slide No. 7 of the Russian-language version of her Instagram publication. The passage on decolonization was visualized there using a technique that, in the Russian context (without additional explanation), can be interpreted as threatening: “Finally, we will find those who talk about the need to urgently ‘decolonize’ Russia. Supposedly, we need to divide our too-large country into a few dozen small and safe states. However, ‘decolonizers’ cannot explain why people with a shared background and cultural context should be artificially divided. Nor do they specify how this should happen.”

Perhaps this slide, with its “threat,” was made by accident? Maybe. Or maybe it was made out of foolishness? That’s also possible. The subsequent explanations that this slide was taken out of context do not seem reasonable to us. Such a reaction could have been anticipated; it is obvious, especially when it comes to such a sensitive issue as national self-awareness.

Therefore, it is reasonable to assume that this visualization of the thesis about decolonizers was intentional. But why?

The use of such a negative visual technique seemed strangely familiar to us, evoking a sense of déjà vu. It reminded us of another work by “Navalny’s Team”—the famous film *Traitors* about the 1990s. The film addresses the establishment of democracy in Russia and the rise of dictator Vladimir Putin.

Following the release of this film, a significant discussion began on the Russian-speaking internet. Many felt (and justifiably so) that the film’s creator, Maria Pevchikh—one of the ideologists of the modern “For Navalny” movement—besides recounting the 1990s, personally attacked Mikhail Khodorkovsky.

Many asked: “Why wage war against Khodorkovsky now, when it is more important to unite around the idea of opposing Putin?” From a political perspective, especially from the perspective of a politician thinking about power in future Russia, this action—attempting to “destroy” Khodorkovsky, who could have been a potential ally—seems unreasonable (at least at this stage).

The authors of this article reviewed all three episodes of the film again. Maria Pevchikh repeatedly shows photos of Khodorkovsky when she talks about “traitors” and “oligarchs who sold out democracy.” Historically accurate, perhaps—but one episode about Khodorkovsky and the “loans-for-shares” auctions would have sufficed. Instead, Pevchikh repeatedly nails Khodorkovsky to the pillory of oligarchy.

From a strategic point of view, the film *Traitors* is a mistake. It turns potential allies into enemies, weakening the ability to oppose Putin’s regime. It does not unite but divides. Numerous commentators of the film rightfully criticized Pevchikh, saying she did not delve into the topic, did not understand the facts, and presented only one side, essentially turning the film into a propaganda piece.

Critics argued that while the film is valuable for opening a discussion about the 1990s—a period that has not yet been fully reflected upon in Russian consciousness—it was poorly timed, causing discord among potential allies. Reasonable politicians do not act this way (once again, Churchill comes to mind, who made a “deal with the devil” to achieve victory).

However, we believe that the film *Traitors* should not be assessed from a political strategy perspective at all. The film, in our view, does not carry political weight. If we look at the actions of Pevchikh’s team from a different angle—focusing on political fundraising and the possibility of eliminating a competitor—then her film becomes a meaningful and reasonable action. Pevchikh’s team is strategically targeting several goals: creating a watchable product, presenting their version of the 1990s and Putin’s rise to power to the younger generation, thereby “fighting the regime,” while simultaneously tarnishing a competitor.

Some may ask—what does fundraising have to do with it, and what does Khodorkovsky, who is quite wealthy himself, have to do with it? However, political fundraising is not just about money. It is also about the ability to connect with decision-makers, to sell your ideas to politicians—in our case, Western ones.

Additionally, with the help of our colleague Anna Gomboeva, we noticed a difference between the Russian and English versions of Yulia Navalnaya’s Instagram publication. The passage on decolonization is absent from the English version. Anna suggested that Navalnaya’s team, considering the West’s attitudes toward decolonization issues (such as Black Lives Matter), excluded this paragraph from the English version to avoid incurring the wrath of Western human rights activists.

In the English version of the speech, there is no mention of Navalnaya’s team planning to find decolonizers after coming to power: “Finally, there are those who advocate for the urgent ‘decolonization’ of Russia, arguing to split our vast country into several smaller, safer states. However, these ‘decolonizers’ cannot explain why people with shared backgrounds and cultures should be artificially divided. Nor do they say how this process should even take place.”

This technique and form of presentation raise many questions and create a sense of ambiguity and double standards. It turns out that one message (conflictual) is sent to the Russian-speaking audience, while another is sent to Western partners.

One might assume that Slide No. 7 in the Russian Instagram was intentionally made to provoke a storm of angry emotions. In our view, this was a deliberate provocation.

We are already seeing emotional statements from some ethnic activists online comparing the Russian people to fascists, calling to stop “kissing Russians in…” or even calling to “flatten Muscovy to the ground.”

These emotions can certainly be used in future rounds of political fundraising, presenting Western politicians with a narrative like: “Look at these decolonizers—they are a horde of militant chauvinists. They are furious now, but give them power, and they will drive out (or slaughter) all Russians from their republics.”

From the perspective of a politician building a strategy for actually coming to power in a multinational country, publishing Slide No. 7 is short-sighted and erroneous. From the perspective of political fundraising, however, it is perfect—a well-timed attack on competitors in the fight for Western attention, remaining obscure to the Western audience, who will only see the English text and not delve into the nuances of the Russian version.

Nevertheless, we must acknowledge that Yulia Navalnaya, in her speech, raised a key question—a “research question,” if you will: How, after all, should this decolonization process unfold?

It should be noted that the term “decolonization” has recently been battered from various sides, and some are beginning to distance themselves from it. This is facilitated by both Yulia Navalnaya’s Slovenian speech and similar speeches by political émigrés, as well as, unfortunately, by the statements of certain decolonization activists. Both sides often reduce the understanding of decolonization to simply “dividing the large into the small.”

Meanwhile, as we have already mentioned, decolonization is a broad concept. For the indigenous peoples of Siberia and the Arctic in Russia, the primary concern is the ability to maintain their traditional way of life—to hunt, fish, and herd reindeer freely on their ancestral lands, and to preserve their customs, culture, languages, and traditions.

For us, the concept of decolonization, the mirror image of which is the concept of national self-determination, means the ability of Indigenous communities to make decisions about seemingly simple but vital matters—where to fish, when to gather, and how to hunt. And if not by themselves (we are not retrogrades and understand that indigenous peoples do not live in isolation), we would like decisions to be made with consideration of these communities’ opinions, so that, for instance, a coal mine doesn’t suddenly appear where there used to be pristine forest, extracting billions for unscrupulous businessmen.

In international law (the only real structure that protects the rights of Indigenous and small nations), tools such as co-management mechanisms and the principle of Free, Prior, and Informed Consent (FPIC) have long been developed. It seems that to fully explain our position on this issue, another article (or more than one) would be needed.

However, we understand that other members of the public may imbue the concept of decolonization and national self-determination with different meanings, including the creation of separate ethnic states. And this is normal. It is a natural desire to gain autonomy in deciding one’s fate. For the Indigenous, numerically small peoples of Siberia and the Arctic, such a solution is likely impossible due to their small numbers. But for other, more numerous nations, the desire for such a solution does not seem unnatural to us.

That being said, we believe some representatives of ethnic emigration are disingenuous when they claim not to understand why many in the West fear the creation of independent, democratic national states on the map of present-day Russia. It seems unlikely that any Western politician fears the formation of three dozen independent, prosperous, and democratic Estonias on Russia’s territory.

What they fear is not this. They fear violence, having been taught bitter lessons by the experiences of Yugoslavia, the Middle East, and other regions. They fear even greater bloodshed (given the presence of nuclear weapons) than what we are witnessing today.

In our view, this anxiety is at least understandable, and certain representatives of Russian political emigration use it for their political fundraising purposes.

Paradoxically, we believe that simply mentioning decolonization by a public figure as prominent as Yulia Navalnaya is already a positive sign. For us, it means that the community of people who consider their homeland and national interests to be located within present-day Russia is beginning to ask the right questions.

The authors of this article do not have ready answers to these questions. We see decolonization and self-determination as processes rather than endpoints.

However, we will have to search for these answers together, whether you are thinking about the Beautiful Russia of the Future or striving to bring freedom to your nations.

However, one thing is certain: the first step in this direction must be dialogue and mutual renunciation of violence and insults. A dialogue that truly seeks to understand each other. As one literary character once said, “You never really understand a person until you consider things from their point of view until you climb inside of their skin and walk around in it.”

We are also convinced that only the victory of the Ukrainian people in this war for their freedom can help the peoples of Russia achieve theirs as well.