Activism
In this special edition of the series “Freedom in Captivity. Solidarity Without Borders” we continue our conversation with Pyotr Ryabov — a Russian anarchist, historian, philosopher, and publicist. Read about his visits to Belarus, his experience in detention, and how he became persona non grata in Belarus in the second part of the article “Not Today, Not Yesterday, Not Tomorrow.”
Pyotr Ryabov — Russian anarchist, historian, philosopher, and publicist
— You have visited Belarus several times. What anarchist tendencies could you note?
— Yes, I have been to Belarus many times. Twice I served six days in detention: it’s not exactly a lot, but enough. A kind of excursion, “participant observation,” as sociologists would say. I am very fond of, I sympathize with, I deeply care for, and in many ways, I am proud of, admire, and envy Belarusian anarchism. I don’t want to idealize it; it has plenty of problems. But still, of everything I know, my attitude is very positive. Unfortunately, I know Ukrainian anarchism less, especially in recent years for obvious reasons. I have a fairly good idea of the situation in Russia and other countries in the post-Soviet space, and Belarusian anarchism has always been particularly attractive to me. It always had a lot of what I felt was completely lacking in Russian anarchism.
I already mentioned that one of its tendencies is a very strong emphasis on cultural and political activity in its most diverse forms—ranging from lecture halls, clubs, seminars, reflection, and deep study of theory when it’s lacking. In my opinion, theory is handled much better in Belarus than in Russia. There are also subcultures: punk bands, concerts, zines, films, things like “Navinki,” and so on.
As I said, Belarusian anarchism is the most cheerful anarchism I’ve ever seen. There are many wonderful, funny actions in the spirit of the Situationists.
Secondly, it existed for many years in a situation of a very harsh regime, harsher than in Russia. And it managed to survive without becoming a sect, and at the same time, without losing itself among other opposition movements. Here, of course, “Navinki” played an outstanding role—a giant project, in my view—a newspaper that was published for many years, which created its own language, its own perspective, its own worldview, and deconstructed both the authorities and the mainstream opposition. There is a lot, I think, in Belarusian anarchism that we in Russia and other countries can learn from.
Belarusian anarchists played a huge role in the “green movement” — environmental and anti-nuclear. I personally took some part in their actions. If we talk about my personal involvement, in 1998 we did the “Vyaselka” (Rainbow) march against the construction of a nuclear power plant, and back then it wasn’t built. They wanted to build it somewhere in the Mogilev region; as I know, now it has been built near Grodno. Но back then its construction was delayed—not necessarily by our modest efforts, but nevertheless. And Belarusian anarchists played a big role in the Green Party and, in general, were very involved in ecology. I also know that anarchists took part in anti-fascist and feminist activities, and were involved in the labor movement and strikes. Until recent years, I unfortunately could no longer observe this personally. But I know that relatively recently, Belarusian anarchists actively fought against the “social parasite” law and organized actions when it was extremely dangerous. When official authorities denied the existence of COVID-19 as a problem, Belarusian anarchists tried to help in the self-organization of people. That is, Belarusian anarchism, with all its subcultural branches, is not something sectarian or separate from society. It is deeply involved in culture.
But for me, some of the peaks, the best I’ve seen of Belarusian anarchism, was 2008, when a social forum was organized. In Russia, we also organized social forums, but those were general meetings of all types of leftists: from Bolsheviks to Social Democrats, with the participation of anarchists too. But the Belarusian Social Forum in 2008 was predominantly anarchist, and there were dozens and hundreds of projects. A book was published based on its results. There were cooperatives, websites, trade unions, theoretical questions. In little Belarus — such a huge amount of everything that anarchists are involved in.
I think it’s wonderful. It’s clear that constant brutal repression, monstrous prison terms, and the emigration of many activists have a bad effect on the movement. But the fact that it survived, that it didn’t become marginalized, I like that. I really always enjoyed going to Belarus, participating in common actions simply out of general solidarity—human and anarchist. There is a lot to learn there.
— Tell us about the demonstrations in Belarus you took part in, and how Belarusian anarchists behaved during those demonstrations?
— The first time was in 1996; there were mass demonstrations against Lukashenko, who was, as usual, tightening the screws at that time. After one of the demonstrations, a large number of anarchists were detained, including me. What struck me then? We were not detained at the demonstration itself, but on the other side of the city. In Russia at that time, it wasn’t common: if it’s after the action, no one is going to grab you. But here, they sent a whole bus with OMON, which started grabbing everyone at the other end of the city. After that, there were trials, and we spent six days with comrades from Grodno, Minsk, and other places. Then I participated, as I already said, in organizing the “Vyaselka — Rainbow” march, an analog to the “Keepers of the Rainbow,” an international, Russian, and beyond movement of anarcho-ecologists against the construction of a nuclear power plant. We walked along the roads of Mogilev, the police detained us there, took us to the local town of Bykhov, and from there we were deported to Mogilev. It was very funny.
Back then, even by Belarusian standards, there was much more freedom, because we were riding in a police car and not only sang revolutionary songs but managed to open the roof and raise a black-and-red flag: it was a surreal sight.
After that, we traveled to different villages, distributed anti-nuclear brochures, held pickets, including in Minsk, and so on. But back then, other than deportation, it didn’t have major repressive consequences.
Later I came several times to give lectures to Belarusian anarchist comrades. In 2006, everything ended well for me. Well, and the last time everything ended not very well for me was in 2017, when I came at the invitation of comrades from Grodno and Baranovichi to give lectures. First in Grodno. The lecture I gave was dedicated to modern libertarian philosophy in the world. At the 10th minute, OMON burst in, took everyone, and confiscated a bunch of my books. They kept me at the station and, thank God, released me in the evening. I moved to Baranovichi. It was impossible to hold the lecture planned in a public space, so we held it secretly, underground, in an apartment. I thought it was all over for me, and I was sent to the station accompanied by one young man. But there, a whole platoon of police was waiting for me, accusing me, firstly, of using foul language. It’s funny because I don’t use those words at all, unlike the police, who mostly only speak in them. And secondly, that I have prohibited anarchist publications, specifically “Freedom or Death.” I said that I am not only an anarchist but also a researcher of anarchism, and I need these books, but they were not convinced. They told me I was distributing them in a single copy and so on. I even had to go on a hunger strike, though not a dry one—I drank but didn’t eat. Nevertheless, it was unpleasant. These weren’t massive repressions, but still, I had an experience with Belarusian Themis.
— After these events, did you become persona non grata in Belarus?
— I hope temporarily. In every sense. I would really like to visit Belarus, and not only after the victory of the world revolution. But yes, in Baranovichi, the local police gave me a stamp — a 10-year ban on entering Belarus. Moreover, they told me that if I didn’t leave, they would immediately give me a criminal sentence. Even if I were traveling on a train, say, in transit. 10 years, as is easy to notice, will end in a few years. It’s funny that it spoiled my passport, because after that I had to change it. So they also gave me the pleasant opportunity to walk through the bureaucratic corridors of Moscow, changing my passport.
In general, it must be said that the police and the KGB of Belarus are very closely linked with the Russian repressive organs. We know how Igor Olinevich was kidnapped from Moscow—that’s a famous story. Но I myself witnessed a similar operation when in 2018 we held the traditional — the last, I fear — Priamukhino Readings at Bakunin’s birthplace. A lot of Belarusian anarchists were expected there. As I know, before that, the authorities raided a large anarchist action near Minsk. It was planned that many anarchists from Belarus would come. Police and FSB descended on Priamukhino, and they were looking for Belarusian anarchists. But they found exactly one person, who was grabbed, held for several days in a local police station, and deported to Belarus. So the close ties between the security forces of our countries are very clearly manifested.
— You have been in Belarusian prisons. Tell us about the conditions of detention. What could you say? Any Belarusian “attractions”?
— Well, you know, for me it was, oddly enough, informative. Although I have been detained many times in Russia, I only served time on “days” in Belarus. I’ve been in the anarchist movement since 1987 and have been detained many times, but usually I didn’t spend more than one night in the stations. And here, twice for six days. One thought of mine will be completely banal: everyone says it, and I will say it too. I was struck by the fact that the Belarusian authorities generally move two steps ahead compared to Russia.
And that’s why we are often told: “In Russia, you are watching the second season of the series, and we are already watching the fifth.” From the point of view of repressiveness, many things that were still permissible in Russia were already impossible in Belarus.
For example, arrest an hour after the action at the other end of the city — that struck me; it wasn’t like that in Russia. In 1998, we were walking along a dark forest road, 12 anarchists, and we were accused of holding an unauthorized march. In Russia, no one would have given a damn if 12 people were walking on forest roads, and so on. So yes, the level of repressiveness in general is one, two, three steps ahead. Although Russia is gradually catching up, it’s still lagging behind. But I’m afraid not for long.
In 1996, when I was detained, I encountered for the first and, fortunately, so far last time the most primitive form of torture. The simplest, mildest, I would say, light version, but nevertheless. About ten of us detainees were placed facing the wall, hands and legs spread, and forced to stand like that for an hour. We were very tired. People walked behind us and hit us in the kidneys and legs. It is simply physically humiliating, hard, and unpleasant when you can be hit in the kidney or even just have to stand in that position for an hour. It’s not the most terrible torture, but I’ll just note that this was 1996, when perhaps even for Belarus this was still a novelty. Although we know that the current regime took a very tough approach from the very beginning.
As they say, prison is prison; it was interesting to see what it’s like. Overall, I want to say again that I served time, including in Baranovichi in 2017, in a mild regime. I was on a hunger strike, I had a cold and was very angry that I wasn’t allowed to leave for Moscow. Но I understood that I most likely wouldn’t be shot or tortured. Even the Russian consul from Brest came to see me. This generally scared all the police in Baranovichi. I put on a serious face and told him that in free Russia, one is allowed to make a call home. To which the chief Baranovichi cop said that in Belarus it’s also allowed, but the problem is that they hadn’t put the phone in: there’s permission, but no phone. I wanted to sting the cops with something. In general, it was funny. Но, I repeat, I got off with a light scare. I perceived it as an anthropological adventure for the purpose of research.
I understood that there are people who, unfortunately, are currently paying for freedom with decades of their lives in terrible conditions, and against that background, spending a few days in a cell is certainly unpleasant, but not so scary. I kept repeating to myself a little rhyme I made up: “Bakunin sat and told us to, Kropotkin sat and told us to.” And it turned out that almost all anarchists served time. Emma Goldman sat and told us to. It turned out that this rhymes well with almost all the great anarchists who actually served time. Such is our lot—to sit somewhere for a while. Somehow the state doesn’t like anarchists, and it’s very mutual. So there are no special features in this in principle, but if it’s interesting, I have my own story of misadventures in Belarus.
— How do you see the protests of 2020? Many Belarusians will start to get indignant, saying, who besides us knows, but personally I am interested in your opinion. Could the protest have had a different outcome and what factors could have influenced that?
— I understand, it’s also awkward for me to talk about it, because it’s like saying from the sidelines that they fought poorly when you didn’t fight yourself. As Shota Rustaveli said: “Everyone thinks himself a strategist, seeing the battle from the side.” Therefore, many would probably rightly grumble at me for this. Of course, the events of 2020 sparked my liveliest interest, and I followed them very closely, sympathized, and admired many things. But if I may express a conditional criticism, I repeat, with the caveat that we didn’t do such a thing… In 2011, we had pathetic “white ribbon” protests; we went to them, but I was extremely critical of them for many reasons. That’s a separate conversation about why everything turned out even more terrible in Russia, many times more terrible. After that, what happened in Belarus in 2020 seems incredible. So again the question: compared to what? If with the “white ribbon” movement of 2011–2012 in Russia, then what happened in Belarus, in my opinion, is much more interesting.
But still, firstly, it was striking that there was a certain social element and attempts, as they say, to raise the workers. We know there were talks about strikes and there were meetings at several factories. I remember the story when Lukashenko spoke and was hissed at in disgrace, but still, it didn’t turn into strikes. I don’t know if it could have, but it certainly wasn’t enough. Such a vector was emerging where it wouldn’t just be movement on the streets, but also strikes. That would be serious. A corresponding agenda, corresponding forms of struggle. But, unfortunately, it didn’t reach mass workers’ demonstrations, although some had such a vector.
Secondly, I have been observing what is happening in Belarus for many years. For many years, the authorities destroyed one generation of opposition after another. Someone was killed, someone was pushed into emigration. Every few years, elections led to the formation of a mini-Maidan: people came out, sat in tents, then they were arrested, imprisoned, and thousands of people went abroad. As a result, when 2020 happened, there was a lack of experienced oppositionists, people with experience, because one after another, generations of people with experience were thrown out of the movement. There was a lack of resolve.
But there is also a third factor that cannot be ignored—it’s the constant glance at the Kremlin. There was a constant feeling that if things went too far, what happened to Czechoslovakia in 1968 could happen: tanks on the streets of Minsk. You might not know, but I was very interested in the history of the Polish “Solidarity.” They had the idea of a self-limiting revolution. We cannot go too far because the big brother will come. In 1980, when a million people participated in “Solidarity” in Poland and the whole country was seized by strikes, they thought all the time that Brezhnev would come and everything would end. And they had a concept of self-limitation of the revolution. Но if a revolution doesn’t develop, it dies. It seems to me that this moment was always present among the opposition leaders, among those who tried to coordinate this movement. And this is an important factor. If the revolution had gone further, it’s very likely that everything would have ended like that.
It seems to me there are three things: the lack of experienced opposition cadres due to the constant policy of repression, the absence of a mass labor movement that would support the million-strong demonstrations, and constant glances at the forceful suppression by the big brother. But that’s what I see from Moscow. I wasn’t in the thick of the movement. I ask my Belarusian comrades to forgive me if they decide that this is again some kind of Moscow chauvinism, and we are teaching everyone, including how to stage a revolution. These are just some thoughts of an interested sympathizer.
— What specific cases related to Belarusian anarchists do you know? The latest of the latest that has reached you?
— You know, as in Russia, so in Belarus, the history of arrests, repressions, and imprisonments is very sad. In Belarus, this manifests even more sharply. Many people, either personally known to me or known by reputation, receive monstrous sentences, and we have to learn this “beautiful” word — “incommunicado regimes,” when people are completely isolated. I don’t know if there are anarchists who have been completely isolated, but I know about some oppositionists like Maria Kalesnikava. This tendency is also developing in relation to other worthy people, for example, someone like Statkevich. Although he is not an anarchist but a Social Democrat, he commands respect not only from Social Democrats. As I understand it, he is also subjected to the harshest repressions.
When I read and hear that people are sentenced to 10, 15, 20 years, it causes deep concern. However, I am glad that the Belarusian emigration is very active—both in Warsaw and in other places. They participate in demonstrations and publish interesting theoretical texts. Yes, people found themselves thrown outside their homeland because it’s simply impossible to breathe there. This is very clear to me because here in Russia, you can only breathe every other time.
I express deep sympathy for those who received these 10–20 years and hope they won’t have to stay in for that long. I also have a huge interest in those who ended up abroad and continue to do something.
— In Belarus in recent years, anarchist practice has prevailed over theory. After the arrest of the anarcho-partisans — this is the case of Igor Olinevich and his comrades — “Chorny stsyag” (Black Flag) they were called, to be precise, the media hyped the term “militant-anarchism,” which didn’t exist in principle before their actions. It’s like we really lack theory, intellectuals of anarchist views. Why do you think that is? (Editorial opinion).
— I would like to say that, as it seems to me, the concept of “militant-anarchism” is older; it appeared before the first big arrest in 2010, when many were arrested, including the same Igor Olinevich, Mikola Dziadok, and others, when they threw a bottle at the Russian embassy in solidarity with Russian anarchists. Then people received 10 years. And even before that, the concept of “militant-anarchism” was widespread. I have a complicated relationship with it, but I won’t talk about it in detail now. Just to say that this concept didn’t appear yesterday or after 2020, but significantly earlier, that is, it already existed in the 2000s.
Now regarding theory. I already said that, oddly enough, it seems to me that Belarusian anarchists are far from the worst option from the point of view of theory, because there have always been some deep interests in the history of philosophy, and the same “Pramen” sometimes prints deep theoretical texts. I also miss them very much. I also believe that this is a huge problem in the anarchist movement in general.
Your situation is even slightly better than many others. By the way, this again might not be good, but I’ll refer to my special text on this topic. We have Priamukhino, Bakunin’s birthplace, where for many years we held various conferences, and researchers and followers of anarchism gathered, and so on. We have a 2011 collection, provocatively titled “Anarchists Against Anarchism,” where we engaged in self-criticism. I gave a report there, and it can be easily found, for example, on a site like “Akrateia”. It’s called “Theory and Practice” or something like that. And I speak very harshly there exactly about what you are asking me, explaining how bad everything is with this and why. Therefore, again, I refer to my small report from thirteen years ago.
But to put it very briefly, one of the main problems of the anarchist movement is its extreme youth subcultural nature.
That is, yes, fortunately, now both in post-Soviet anarchism and in Belarus especially, and in Russia, people have appeared who have participated in the movement for many years. But still, the overwhelming part is very young people who come through subculture and leave very quickly. From this comes a bunch of infantilism and fashions, and childhood diseases. It’s good when there are young people with their drive, energy, and courage. Но I always tell one story, and I’ll tell it now. For several years in a row, I traveled to give lectures in the city of Perm. One year I met with local anarchists there, and they asked me: “Pyotr, well, tell us why we need an anarchist organization ‘Autonomous Action’ at all?” I told them. I come back a year later. They ask me: “Pyotr, we need to meet so you can tell us why we need an anarchist organization.” I say: “I told you a year ago.” They say: “90% of the people have changed, they aren’t the same ones.” Over the year, the composition changed by 90%. It’s clear that if this is the case, no accumulation of experience, reflection, or understanding occurs. A very subcultural youth character is one of the reasons why things are so unhealthy. But that, of course, is far from everything. There are many reasons. Again, for those interested, I refer to my article. In general, I still think roughly the same way as in 2011 in “Theory and Practice” on “Akrateia.”
— Next question, a relaxed summer one, a reading list for the summer. What to read about Belarusian anarchism and what to read in general?
— The first question is easier to answer; it’s very short. The second one is difficult. I’ll say right away: there is one big book specifically about the old Belarusian anarchism of the early 20th century — by Yuri Glushakov, titled “The Revolution is Dead. Long Live the Revolution: Belarusian Anarchism, 1902–1927”.
Yura Glushakov played a huge role in the foundation of Belarusian modern anarchism; he was a historian, activist, leader, and worker. I know that some time ago he wanted to participate in the next presidential election in Belarus and was nominated by the Green Party, but fortunately, they didn’t register him, because all the other candidates besides Lukashenko, as is customary in Belarus, were immediately imprisoned. Yes, he wasn’t imprisoned. The last time I saw him, he just wanted to become a presidential candidate. I started to tease him and said: “Yura, you know, Mussolini also touched upon anarchism in his youth. But when he became a fascist leader, he remembered Malatesta and didn’t shoot him, but only put him under house arrest. If you become president — remember that you had anarchist friends, and you won’t kill them immediately either, but at least just arrest them.” That was harsh. I don’t know where he is now, ideologically and in general what is happening to him. Once Yura was an outstanding anarchist.
There was a magazine “Zelyony Kray” (Green Land) — the Greens’ magazine. But anarchists played a huge role in the Green Party. An entire special issue was dedicated to the “Belarusian Federation of Anarchists” with a comprehensive analysis. So, if you want to read about modern Belarusian anarchism, I can recommend the brochure by Pavluk Konovalchik and “Zelyony Kray.” Again, I’ll refer to my lecture, part of which is dedicated to Belarusian anarchism. It is imperfect but still gives some idea.
As for literature on anarchism in general… There is a lot of it, but I always advise beginners to read various memoirs. For example, I love Emma Goldman very much. It is a very uplifting book. It is amazing not only because she is the most famous woman anarchist in the world and a person associated with an entire era, but also because she allows one to be an ideological anarchist and not become a sectarian. It’s no coincidence the book is called “Living My Life”. Goldman didn’t want to be a narrow fanatic. She was constantly full of the spirit of freedom but knew how to be in opposition to the opposition itself.
I also love the memoirs of Makhno and Kropotkin. If we talk about theory or relative theory, one of the modern Western anarchists who has been widely translated and published in Russia, and who is likely available in Belarus, is Peter Gelderloos. His famous book “Anarchy Works” is an attempt to show how an anarchist society is possible. His books on consensus, non-violence, and others have been published in Russian. Regarding general visions of anarchism, I always recommend Colin Ward, a British anarchist professor. His small book “Anarchism: A Very Short Introduction” was published in Russian. It is short but lovely. And if someone knows English, they can read George Woodcock. A wonderful book. Woodcock was a friend of Orwell, a Canadian anarchist, and a poet. Unfortunately, this book has not yet been fully translated into Russian, and probably not into Belarusian either. But if you know English, it’s a magnificent introduction. So, it’s better not to ask me about books, because it would take a lot of time. There is a good joke: “Who is a bore? A bore is a person who, when asked ‘how are you?’, starts telling you how they are.”
— Last question: what would you wish for the readers and Belarusian imprisoned anarchists?
Freedom, of course. What else can one wish for? And what can an anarchist wish for other anarchists? Freedom in every sense. External, internal. There is no internal freedom without external, and internal alone is often not enough. Therefore, it is hard to be free in a concentration camp. It is not the most suitable place for a free person. On the other hand, as Max Stirner said: “Give a sheep freedom of speech, and it will still only bleat.” So without internal freedom, external freedom is also impossible.
With all my heart… I understand it sounds pathetic and a bit hypocritical to say that I am constantly thinking of the comrades in the dungeons with all my heart. Naturally, one’s own skin is closer, and when you haven’t ended up in prison for 20 years, it’s hard to imagine. I have very modest experience, but I truly think with horror about what is happening, including to the Belarusian comrades in the dungeons. Indeed, 20-year sentences are horrific, as you know. And we have a lot of that in Russia as well.
Besides freedom, another wish is relevant now—peace, of course. Peace in the full sense of the word, inseparable from freedom. Unfortunately, we are closer than ever to the point where humanity could perish. Therefore, unfortunately, this topic is no less important. After all, one must remember that everything living could perish. So it’s impossible not to think about that too. Thus, peace and freedom. I won’t be original.
Materials from the series “Freedom in Captivity. Solidarity Without Borders”:
“The end justifies its means”
“I could not miss these turning points in history – I waited 20 years of my life for them”
“The trial is like a performance for me alone”
“I know — the future belongs to us”
“The authorities fear anarchists as much as Igor Losik and Sergei Tikhanovsky”
You can support imprisoned Belarusian anarchists through ABC-Belarus