The end of Russia's peaceful opposition

Russia's top opposition spokesman Alexei Navalny, who united people in his fight against Vladimir Putin's regime, died on Friday in a remote Arctic prison where he was serving a decades-long sentence on trumped-up charges. He is survived by his wife, two children and the millions of Russians at home and abroad who yearn for a better future. The Kremlin's propaganda machine, now in overdrive, lists the cause of death as a blood clot, spinning a narrative that Putin — ever so popular with the people — didn't need Navalny to die.

In his 25 years in power, Putin has killed journalists, politicians, oligarchs, warlords and activists – anyone who dared to speak out and oppose his brutal regime. Assassination is Putin's MO, and time and time again it has proven to be an effective means of holding onto his power. But Navalny's sudden death changes the equation for Putin — and Russia's future. it symbolizes the transfer of power from those who seek peaceful means to fight the regime to those who believe that the only way to change Russia is through violence.

Navalny's latest call to action was when he called on opposition Russians to join “an anti-Putin noon” — a silent protest planned for March 17, the final day of Russia's three-day presidential election that would make the people flooded the country's polling stations at exactly noon and voted for any candidate but Putin. By no means a strategy to change the outcome of a predetermined election, it was a way for those opposed to Putin to see that they are not alone. There is no doubt that some Russians will come forward and express their disdain for Putin and his bloody ways, but unfortunately, a silent protest against a neo-fascist regime in the midst of a multi-year war of imperial conquest is unlikely to bring about change.

Navalny's fight was peaceful. Throughout his political career, Navalny argued that free and fair elections and an end to corruption would bring prosperity to ordinary Russians and give each of them a voice in deciding the future of their country. Arguably, his popularity was second only to that of Putin, which caused fear in the latter and eventually landed Navalny in prison, where he died. Tragically, Navalny's fight for a better Russia did not bring about a tectonic shift in the way Russians perceived their country — and themselves. Navalny's death was not unjust. His work – the extensive catalog of Putin's corruption – will undoubtedly contribute to eventual regime change in Russia. But this change will not be won with the values ​​of the late freedom fighter.

The fight against Putin is far from over as a new generation of activists is emerging in Russia. While they may share Navalny's disdain for Putin, they see the futility of a nonviolent approach to change in Russia.

Last June, Yevgeny Prigozhin, the notorious financier of the Wagner mercenaries who sent tens of thousands of Russian convicts to invade the Ukrainian town of Bakhmut, announced a “march of justice”. Blaming the corruption of the Russian elite for the country's failures in the war in Ukraine, he assembled a group of fighters into an army that quickly captured the Russian city of Rostov-on-Don and advanced on Moscow. Prigozhin asked Putin to hand over the Russian defense minister and chief of the General Staff to punish them for their incompetent handling of the war in Ukraine.

Prigozhin, whose plane mysteriously blew up in the sky two months after his failed coup, was the new face of the Russian insurgency: What he lacked in political prowess, integrity, and even popular support, he made up for in tanks, anti- aircraft weapons and a crew of mercenaries with no qualms about using them against their own countrymen. Prigozhin's death, meant to serve as a warning not to try to oust Putin, reinforced the belief that the next time an armed group marches on the Kremlin, it had better not stop on the outskirts of Moscow.

Another Putin critic, Igor Strelkov (convicted for life in the downing of Malaysian Airlines flight MH17 over Ukraine in 2014, now imprisoned in Russia on unrelated extremism charges) could be heard citing Navalny's investigations into corrupt dealings of Putin's inner circle, including the defense minister. luxury villa outside Moscow. Like Navalny, Strelkov was also convinced that corruption was preventing Russia from realizing its potential, albeit one of imperial glory.

After Navalny was jailed and politics in Russia was declared a form of extremism, extremism always became a form of politics. Opposition to Putin is no longer limited to exiled intellectuals, writers and liberal Russians, but now includes the Legion of Free Russia and the Russian Volunteer Corps – paramilitary units made up of Russian citizens fighting alongside Ukraine in the war. Their successful invasions of Russia, along with insurgents derailing trains and torching oil refineries across the country, are slowly crystallizing the idea that death and destruction are legitimate and arguably effective tools in the fight against Putin and of his men with weapons. .

A bloody revolution was not what Navalny or his millions of supporters stood for. It is doubtful that the anti-Putin protests taking place today in front of Russian embassies around the world are calling for riots, guns, bombings or the use of lethal force against a man who has never shied away from using such force himself. But with the rallies, the outrage and the piles of flowers laid in Navalny's memory, it's hard not to notice that an irreversible change has occurred in Russia: Voices of peace, even Navalny's, are being ignored. Russia's future is no longer in an arctic gulag, sending messages of love, hope and resilience. It no longer exists in books, ballots or blogs. Rather, it is in the hands of people whose values, whatever they may be, are expressed through violent violence.

Tragically, it's not the future Navalny died for, but it may be what Putin deserves.