The Russian authorities made efforts to harass us at every turn; perhaps we were irrationally optimistic, but we interpreted this as a sign of progress: “We have them worried!” If this was truly a measure of success, I should have been proud that my humble United Civil Front offices were raided by security forces a few days prior to our December 16 march in Moscow, the first of a series of what would come to be called the Marches of Dissent. Thousands came out in peaceful support under our WE DO NOT AGREE banners despite being outnumbered five to one by police.
It led to an even bigger, and more contentious, March of Dissent in St. Petersburg on March 3, 2007. We had been denied permission to hold a rally, but over six thousand people defied the ban in the largest political protest of the Putin era up to that time. That sounds like nothing, I understand, but this was new and risky and it felt like a huge wave of energy. In democratic nations protests are routine, the kind of thing you might do for social reasons even if you don’t feel all that strongly. But coming into the streets in Russia was associated with upheaval and drama. It was a very big step for many of the participants to “radicalize” in this way, walking through OMON (paramilitary riot police) cordons and chanting “Russia Without Putin!”
I felt the energy in the street myself, and I liked it. When I retired from chess I had been told that my fiery, undiplomatic nature would make me unsuitable for political activism. I had been an aggressive attacker at the chessboard and a fractious rebel in the chess world even as world champion, so how would I adapt to the subtle world of alliances and diplomacy? I would like to think that in this I met politics halfway. I listened and showed respect—half the time. I argued with colleagues who knew more and who had done more because I wanted to push us all to a new level of cooperation and confrontation. It was the only way to build a coalition that included former prime ministers and would-be Bolsheviks. And when it came time to march, my loud voice and hard head were assets, not weaknesses.
Dozens of marchers were attacked by the riot police that day, the only violence that took place. It is very important to emphasize that over the course of many marches there was not a single overturned car or broken window. But of course we were demonized in the Kremlin-controlled media as violent hooligans and reporters focused their cameras on the few clashes with police, which of course had been provoked by the police. Around a dozen Marches of Dissent took place around the country in 2007, though the majority were in Moscow and St. Petersburg.
In November I was arrested at a Moscow rally and this time I was sentenced to five days in jail under the new anti-demonstration laws. It wasn’t pleasant, although I enjoyed a relatively gilded jail experience, signing autographs for guards and police and generally hearing a lot of sympathetic remarks from them about the state of the country. My old world championship rival, Anatoly Karpov, even tried to visit me. He was turned away, but I very much appreciated the gesture, especially since we were as opposed politically as we were in chess style.
As the rift between Putin’s Russia and the governments of the United States and Europe became increasingly apparent, a new diplomatic position was slowly adopted in the West. After years of trying to accept Putin as an equal, they started to say that while there are differences between Russia and our Western counterparts, these differences are minor, and “within an acceptable range,” in the words of one European Union official.
For me and for a dozen of my colleagues marching for democracy, that “acceptable range” was 120 square feet. That’s the size of the jail cell several of us occupied for five days as punishment for “disobeying the orders of a police officer” at the opposition rally in Moscow. That was the charge a Moscow district court added after the fact, a charge not mentioned in the handwritten testimony of the arresting officers. That was the least conspicuous of the many illegal aspects of my arrest and trial.
After our rally of several thousand people we attempted to meet up with another group, a meeting led by well-known human rights leader Lev Ponomaryov. From there we intended to deliver a petition of protest to the office of the Central Election Committee (CEC). The police had blocked the underground pedestrian passageways so we had to cross the broad street instead and we were soon blocked by more police. When they moved in close I spoke with commanding officer Major General Vyacheslav Kozlov, whom I had met previously. He warned us to turn back, saying we would not be allowed to approach the CEC offices. I offered to send a small delegation of twenty people to present the petition and he again told us to turn back, which we did.
Of course it is inaccurate to say that the police commander was the one in command. FSB officers in plain clothes were clearly in charge even at the police station, and the arrest itself was as choreographed as the trial to come. When the OMON special security forces pushed in past everyone else to arrest me, we could all hear “Make sure you get Kasparov” on their walkie-talkies.
From the moment of our detention we were not allowed to see our lawyers, even when we were charged at the police station. Three hours into the trial the judge said it would be adjourned to the following day. In fact, ten others were held at the police station without counsel for two days prior to their hearings instead of being released, as should occur with an administrative charge. But the judge then left the bench and returned to say that we had misheard her and that my trial would go forward! No doubt another example of what we call “telephone justice” in Russia. That is, before delivering the verdict the judge goes into the back not to deliberate, but to get a phone call from the powers that be.
As in the street and at the police station, the FSB agents and OMON forces were in control. The defense was not allowed to call any witnesses or to present any materials, such as videos and photos taken of the march and the arrests. After this show trial was over I was taken to the police jail at Petrovka 38 in Moscow and there the procedural violations continued. Not with regards to my treatment, which was respectful and as hospitable as a small box with metal furnishings and a hole in the floor for a toilet can be. I wasn’t allowed a phone call and all visitors were refused access. Even my lawyer Olga Mikhailova and Duma member Vladimir Ryzhkov were forbidden to visit me despite having the legal authority to do so.
My other concern was food, since it was out of the question to consume anything provided by the staff. (Nor would I fly Aeroflot unless I had no choice, and when I did I brought my own food and drink. Paranoia long ago became an obsolete concept among those in opposition.) On Sunday, thanks to growing external pressure, they allowed me to receive food packages from my mother.
In a fitting conclusion, even my release was handled illegally. Instead of letting me out at the jail into the waiting crowd of media and supporters, many of whom had themselves been arrested and harassed while picketing, I was taken secretly to the police station where I was first charged. From there I was taken in a colonel’s automobile all the way to my home. This may sound like good service, but it was obvious the authorities wanted to avoid the festive scene that would have occurred outside the jail upon my release.
When I had been arrested the previous April and fined $40, some people poked fun at the trivial amount. And five days in a Moscow jail is hardly the worst fate that can be imagined. Some commenters even suspected I wanted to provoke my own arrest for publicity, a chessplayer’s far-sighted strategy. First off, the penalty was not the point: the principle is. Were we to have the rule of law in Russia or not? Secondly, I had no intention of becoming a martyr or in leading an opposition movement from prison. I had no illusions before, and afterward I could confirm it was not a pleasant place to be even for a brief stay.