Invitation to the Verdict
«According to the law, Cincinnatus C. was whispered the death sentence. Everyone stood up, exchanging smiles. The gray-haired judge, leaning close to his ear, breathed, informed him, and slowly moved away as if peeling off. Then Cincinnatus was taken back to the fortress», — this is how V. Nabokov's novel «Invitation to a Beheading» begins, which I read while sitting in the convoy room No. 4 of the Nagatinsky court before the verdict.
According to the law, Judge Borisenkova announced her verdict in the voice of a mortally frightened person, and it was audible how fear gripped her body, making the words sound like the awkward hissing of a crushed snake.
Everything happening at this event, which in terms of solemnity was not inferior to the church sacrament of baptism, reminded me of Nabokov's plot. And I began to confuse where the absurdity of the novel was and where the amusing truth of life was — so much did the author's fantasies intertwine with my existential experiences.
Weary jailers, nervous convoy, whispering judges, OMON with machine guns, dogs, people, ambassadors, people, dogs, dogs, handcuffs, prosecutor.
«The meekness of the prisoner is the adornment of the prison» — states the second rule of the prison in Nabokov's novel. And just like in the book, the convoy leader addressed me before entering the courtroom:
— Just don't pull any tricks!
— Don't worry, there will be everything: clowns, acrobats, and magicians!
— But I ask you humanly! — the convoy leader almost pleaded.
— Okay, fine. I won't strip naked, — I reassured the leader, and we were led in a cheerful crowd under vigilant guard to the hall.
The dog, closing our line, couldn't calm down and kept barking at an invisible criminal. It was a pity that to complete the delight, they didn't put shackles on our feet.
And while they led me to the court, while I stood in the aquarium in handcuffs, while smiling at the police, sweet strangers in masks, and journalists — circus music from F. Fellini's film «Eight and a Half» played in my head, perfectly fitting the atmosphere of this popcorn comedy.
And feeling the makings of a psychic, I predicted a sentence of 6 years for myself, with a maximum attack of humanity at 5 and a half. But I certainly didn't expect such a term for the boys who were brought to my court by wagon to hide the true motives of the persecution and intimidate as many people as possible.
They really judged me for the funeral, for everything happening in Salekhard after Alexey's death. And all this was sprinkled with discrediting the authorities and the violent overthrow of the regime. Because the level of cynicism, villainy, and meanness in the essence of this extremism case — breaks through the bottom even of our long-gone Russian reality. And they understand this perfectly. Therefore, the case needs to be covered with a screen, the court sealed with a false certificate from the E Center, and everyone given the same term. So that it doesn't happen again.
Because they wanted it like with Prigozhin. Secretly, quietly consigning to oblivion. But it didn't work out. And they need to take revenge. «He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named» is displeased and frightened. Too much noise. And the black web of spider-chekists began to catch in its nets both those and these, and to punish as many and as severely as possible.
As stated in my accusation, «helped organize the funeral of A.N. with the aim of discrediting the current government and with the aim of violently overthrowing the Constitutional Order». And I want to ask, if a regime can be overthrown so easily with a funeral, then what is wrong with it? Is it so shaky?
In fact, the essence, of course, is not in this, but in the fact that I was in those terrible days in Salekhard and recorded a video message from Alexey's mother to P. and the Investigative Committee, to rescue his body from the clutches of the Xenomorphs. They wanted to bury him secretly in Harp. They didn't succeed. That's why they are taking revenge.
I am pained by the sentence given to Artyom Kriger*, Konstantin Gabov*, Sergey Karelin*. The guys honestly and professionally did their job. Without killing, raping, robbing, or even violently overthrowing anyone from the throne. (Damn it!) But we were all solemnly invited to the verdict and in the presence of officials from other states handed a ticket to a new life in the federal punitive correctional service.
And what should the guys be corrected from in the colony? What should I be corrected from? From conscience? From moral values? From my beliefs and moral principles?
Ha-ha-ha. Not a chance!
The show has just begun!
I ask all viewers to remain in their seats! Clowns not to leave the arena, cockroaches and rats not to flee from the sinking ship!
You invited me to play in this play. So let's play. The show is just beginning. I will not give up.
About April 10
The debates. The debates were spectacular. The prosecutor read out so many humorous clichés that I remembered again what kind of clownery I was participating in today!.. Words were spoken about «undermining the authority of the government», «restoring social justice», and «degree of public danger». And also that I «was personally sympathetic to A.N.» — this, apparently, is my most terrible crime. I laughed to tears.
«Someday all these criminal case materials will go to the museum of [P]utin's stupidity» — with this I concluded my debates and read out the witness testimony of Ilya, which I was not allowed to announce at the witness testimony stage. Then the court did not believe that the person forcibly deported from the country on August 1 was actually Ilya. «Let him come to court and give this testimony himself» — the prosecutor sarcastically commented.
I know that everyone expects my «Last Word». I think these 37 pages of text, which I titled like Boris Nemtsov's work «Results. 25 years» — are the most important material I have ever written. But even the titles of my chapters won't pass censorship, let alone the content of the work. (The Last Word consists of a Foreword and 6 chapters.)
During the time I was reading my Last Word, prosecutor Tikhonova and judge Borisenkova stopped me more than three times and tried to intimidate me into silence. I reminded them of the articles of the Criminal Procedure Code of the Russian Federation (part 2 of article 293 of the Criminal Procedure Code) and (article 258 of the Criminal Procedure Code), that the defendant cannot be limited by a certain time and removed from the courtroom, speaking with the last word. And I read my speech completely from beginning to end. Which caused genuine delight in both.
I believe that someday my Last Word will be published. Maybe one of my ardent fans, such as the court secretary, the judge, or even prosecutor Tikhonova herself, will pass my word to journalists. After all, no one would ever suspect them…
In our country, anything is possible, so I do not lose hope.
I believe that someday all our criminal cases, the political prisoners of modern Russia, will be made public. And the country will see why their friends, neighbors, colleagues, relatives were imprisoned… For what absurd accusations, clownish motivations, and «irrefutable evidence» (like confiscated rubber ducks, commemorative photos of a politician, and the only witness from «GPU-Ritual») — for what they really put people behind bars and gave sentences longer than for murders. Publicity, lustrations, and repentance for Soviet terror must still take place. Otherwise, the millstones of senseless grinding of bones will continue to chew up our children and grandchildren.
«The Gulag Archipelago», where a renowned director with a «Golden Mask» works to exhaustion during the day and stages a play in the evening, taking 3rd place in the colony — should not exist. It's time to close it. Forever.
As an Epilogue
The day after the verdict, a small significant event occurred in our exercise yard: through the concrete walls, roof, and bars, a ray of sunlight broke through, and in this ray, among dust, someone's hair, and cigarette butts, appeared a dirty sleepy ladybug. With all its might it tried to rise into the air, but after flying for a moment, it fell into the concrete dust of the yard.
We tried to toss it into the sky, but like Icarus, it crashed to the ground. We tried to lift it to the top of the wall so it could crawl to the edge of the sky, but after a while, its strength left it, and it again dived into the prison dirt.
Stopping to torment it, I placed the ladybug on my hand, and we went for a walk around the yard like two prisoners.
And when it rested, I raised my hand into the sunbeam, as high as possible above my head — and the ladybug suddenly calmly and gracefully flew into the sky, overcoming all the obstacles of bars and high walls, as if destroying this entire prison with its wings.
We girls rejoiced like children and clapped our hands. The first prisoner of our detention center gained the long-awaited freedom, and we all together found ourselves with it outside this fortress. In the happy and free blue sky. Of the golden city.
* Listed as «terrorists and extremists».