In late October, while traveling in Russia with a small delegation of peace activists from Voices for Creative Nonviolence, a young Russian lawyer and his brother took me to Dacha Na Pokrovke, a Moscow restaurant where we enjoyed some of the best food I’ve ever eaten: delicious Russian dumplings, tender kabobs, and the most exquisite, tender, and juicy beef tongue, cut in small, thin slices that I can still taste two months later. I had eaten tongue once before, in New York, and hated it, vowing subconsciously never to eat it again. But this was a revelation. Because of food sensitivities, I passed on some of the evening’s other culinary delicacies, including vodka made from horseradish root that had a strong and sharp aroma and probably would have left me stupefied. The conversation, at one point, turned to rights of free speech when one of the young Russian men at the table said “If I were to criticize the government I might have to whisper, because someone might be listening. What about in the United States,” he asked, “If I am walking on the street, can I say what I want? Can I openly criticize the government?” “Yes, sure,” I said, “You can say what you think. You can’t incite people to violence, but you can criticize governmental policies.”
Here in the U.S., we tend to believe our right to peaceable assembly and redress is founded surely on a First Amendment bedrock, and on the surface that night in the restaurant the differences between Russian and U.S. protections of free speech seemed both stark and gaping. But the reality is something more muted and narrow. The violent treatment of protesters at Standing Rock, ND by police was a clear violation of their First Amendment rights, and it creates an atmosphere that forcefully discourages peaceful dissent.
It is also true that the public space available for free speech in the U.S. has been shrinking, both in size and in relevance, for years. Peace and environmental activists across the country can tell stories about organized, approved demonstrations where they are shunted off to a designated “protest area” typically far from the event and people they seek to address. Any attempt to significantly expand this area results in a swift police response. This is free speech in a cage.
One of my companions in Russia, longtime peace activist Brian Terrell, who was arrested at the Pentagon in September for demonstrating outside the ‘designated protest zone,’ had this to say during sentencing in Missouri four years ago:
The court was mistaken a month ago when it said that our group was “allowed” to assemble on the highway right of way by the Air Force and that this space provided for us met free speech requirements of reasonable time and place. This place in question is not only outside the base’s jurisdiction, it is outside the sight and hearing of anyone on the base. The court’s decision is part of a widening disintegration of civil liberties, where speech is tolerated only in designated and remote “free speech zones” where it cannot be heard by the government, and criminalized in any place where that speech might actually have a chance to be understood. Intended or not, the court’s message is a chilling one- that a citizens’ constitutional right to assemble to petition the government extends only to places outside government facilities and where the government does not have to hear it.”
An indication of the unfriendly political climate related to peaceful protest is evidenced by State lawmakers’ recent attempts to limit first amendment rights. In response to pipeline protesters marching on roadways and blocking traffic, North Dakota legislator, Keith Kempenich, introduced legislation that would protect drivers who “negligently” kill or injure a pedestrian who is blocking traffic on a public road. The first section of the bill (pdf) reads, “… a driver of a motor vehicle who negligently causes injury or death to an individual obstructing vehicular traffic on a public road, street, or highway may not be held liable for any damages.” HB 1203 also would restrict where pedestrians can walk in relation to public roadways, and states “any pedestrian upon a roadway shall yield the right of way to all vehicles upon the roadway.” While the North Dakota bill failed on February 13 by a 50-41 vote, lawmakers in other states are proposing similar legislation.
And in Russia? Well, it’s tempting to characterize Russia as a place where the government is watching and you’d better be on good behavior or else. Perhaps this aligns solidly with popular Western myths about the country. However, Russians seem to have a somewhat more complex relationship with their history of authoritarianism. That night in the restaurant, I was told a joke. “A foreigner comes to Russia and says, ‘I want to meet with Stalin. Can you tell me where I can find him?’ ‘Sure,’ the person he addressed answers, ‘that’s easy. Just tell a joke about him, and he will find you.’”
Russian people are not simply at the mercy of their government, and a public space for dissent, though contracting, exists. On our second full day in Moscow, we visited the Memorial Human Rights Centre (HRC), a non-profit organization that emerged during the Perestroika years, when, as Boris Belenkin, Memorial HRC’s Librarian, tells us, there were “massive human rights violations.” For example, in 1989 in what is now known as the “April 9 Tragedy,” the Soviet Army killed twenty people and injured hundreds while dispersing and arresting anti-Russian demonstrators in Tbilisi, now the capital of the Republic of Georgia. In response, human rights activists organized protests, demanding release of all political prisoners, and formed a legal defense team. The Memorial Human Rights Centre was born out of its work.
As then, human rights advocacy remains at the center of its far-reaching, multifaceted work. Memorial HRC operates on the principle that “objective and complete information about human rights violations in troubled areas directly influences events surrounding a conflict.” Truth-telling, instead of increasing violence, helps reduce it by taking the often powerful weapon of false pretexts out of the hands of those who would use it to provoke violence. In a conflict zone, a vacuum of information is just as (or more) likely to be filled by lies as by truth. It might be counterintuitive, but if truth-telling draws “public and political attention to human rights violations,” it can spark a determination to redress the wrongs and prevent further abuses rather than igniting a desire for revenge, especially if civil society human rights organizations on both sides of the conflict are engaged with each other and supported.
In conflict zones – what it calls ‘hot spots’ – Memorial HRC staff work as investigative journalists, committing both to an on-the-ground presence as well as research and analysis. They develop the kind of in-depth publications that most media outlets can’t afford to produce. They also hold press conferences, write speeches, develop and display exhibits, hold seminars and discussions, and organize demonstrations. Because the express aim of this work is to prevent or de-escalate violence, they produce not only a history of the conflict and a description of the human rights violations, but publicize the names of people responsible for them and offer practical recommendations for improving the situation. And they have a sophisticated approach to getting this information into the media and the hands of other non-profit organizations.
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