Aleksandr Podrabinek

7 November 2025

by Aleksandr Podrabinek

Source: Radio Svoboda

The opposition dreams of a future democratic Russia. There is nothing surprising about this, it is natural. If no light can be seen at the end of the tunnel, then it would at least be nice to imagine how it would look. These dreams give rise to the opposition’s political projects. 

These projects vary a lot. Some plan for the first hundred days following ‘Day X’ – Putin’s hypothetical departure from power. The plan is excellent and perfectly attractive in the context of legal logic. But there is one insidious nuance. 

Others propose the rapid ‘decolonisation’ of Russia, meaning its collapse into many smaller autonomous states – all simply expected to become democratic and unthreatening for the surrounding countries. This is also possible in principle, but again, there is an insidious nuance. 

A third group, inspired by patriotism, pin all their hopes on the war ending in Ukrainian victory, which for some reason should turn authoritarian Russia into a democracy. Though they do not explain their reasons for believing this, there is a chance of kinds of this happening. As the Italian 16th century philosopher – Giordano Bruno – said, in a world of the infinite, all is possible. So, why should such a transformation not occur? But there is a nuance here.  

There are many projects – all good in one way or another, but all suffering from the same general flaw. The same insidious nuance. They all are focused on those in power and not on society. Society is seemingly completely absent. All the proposals for transition are based around the notion that everything either happens of its own accord or on the initiative of a new government, based on plans developed by opposition thinkers. Those who think up the plans show how things must be done; and those in power carry them out. It seems that those thinkers who created these plans see themselves in the new positions of power – all playing one big political game of ‘If I was in charge …’ 

This game is, one must admit, gripping, but what about the reality? 

In reality, for any kind of democratic transition to triumph, sufficiently broad public support is essential. Political manipulations cannot be avoided. That is, if we are to build a democracy and not a simply a new tyranny. But on this, the script writers are shyly silent.  

Will the glorious new laws of those first 100 days need to be imposed, by the iron fist of a new order? Or will they rely on support from the public? Will Russia fall to pieces at the will of the fighters against Russia’s imperial essence, or will the public have to be consulted via some sort of referendum? Will the victors bring democracy to Russia on the backs of Abrams tanks – or will we have to try to do something ourselves? 

All these questions remain largely unaddressed by the wonderful projects for democratic transition. Of course, people will object that they are based on assumptions about the will of the people, that this goes without saying, and that the opposition dreamers are simply offering various alternatives. I would point out that the effort required to reestablish parliamentarianism and ensure genuine popular power is one hundred times greater than the effort required to make such decisions ‘in advance’. The problem of reestablishing democratic institutions is far more important than any decisions those institutions will then make. 

Memorial’s ‘100 Days’ project is partially focused on this, but nonetheless suffers from this same serious flaw. A successful transition to democracy would require a minimum of three essential pre-conditions: significant public support for the reforms, (let’s assume that this exists, or will exist); a more or less actionable plan for transition (which, I think we can agree, currently exists); and a political elite that is both attractive to our fellow citizens and is ready to turn these plans into reality. An elite that the public will agree to follow.    

This latter is a question of public trust in the reformers. At present, it doesn’t exist. And without it, nothing can be done. If the proverbial ‘Day X’ did come and the time came to enact reforms, everything would collapse in political chaos and infighting among the groups and clans closest to those in power. Democratic reforms would be the last thing on the public’s mind and would be hijacked by political opportunists, ready to change their convictions as gentlemen change gloves.  

The absence of a responsible political elite, committed to democracy and capable of uniting democratically-minded voters will once again ruin the whole endeavour. I say ‘once again’ since this is exactly what happened in the 1990s, when the banner of democratic transformation was hijacked by opportunists from the Communist Party, the Soviet bureaucracy and the Komsomol – and then the country was pushed back into the very swamp in which we have been languishing ever since.  

Unfortunately, at that time no adequate political force existed that could consolidate society and lead it towards a sustainable democracy. Neither is there one today. The opposition figures settled in the West can, of course, plan what the future of the Russian state might look like, into how many countries the country may dissolve, what laws should be adopted or repealed, and whether there should be lustration and how that should be done. But what political weight do these people have in Russia? What can they really propose, located outside the country? In public life, it is not just what is said that is important – no matter how true it may be– but who says it. Reputation matters, and if we don’t take account of that, we risk repeating the same historical cycle yet one more time. 

Real change can only be brought about from within Russia, by consolidating society around attractive political ideas and politicians people want to follow. It cannot be done from emigration. Living in the West, it is all very well putting together flashy projects but gaining public support and earning a positive reputation without sharing the struggles of contemporary Russian life, without experiencing the daily risks and persecution, is practically impossible. Today’s political emigres cannot say with Anna Akhmatova: ‘I was with my people then, there where my people had the misfortune to be’ [‘Я была тогда с моим народом, там, где мой народ, к несчастью, был’].

Those who left Russia for political reasons after the start of the war against Ukraine, in expectation of the inevitable ramping up of political repression, swapped resistance to tyranny for personal safety and wellbeing. Now all that remains for them is to take solace in the drafting of plans and dreams of their own important role and effectiveness. Leaving Russia when they were more than ever needed, they irretrievably lost the chance to honestly look future Russian voters in the eye. This is why they are not focussing on winning public support in Russia but on dreaming of how they can best organise a new government. 

Thank God the opposition is not solely made up of political emigres, the number of whom who really were driven out of the country for their political views can be counted on the fingers of one hand. The real opposition consists of the many hundreds of political prisoners all over Russia. It consists of the thousands of people who write letters to them and collect money for their families, for lawyers and to provide things needed in prison; of those who come to support defendants at politically motivated trials; of those who, despite of the draconian laws and the barbaric methods of enforcement, hold protests against lawlessness and arbitrariness. And of those who are not scared and do not run away. They are the only hope for a democratic future for Russia. 

Translated by Oscar Seecharan