Lev Shlosberg: When the Law Becomes Just Another Instrument
An interesting picture is emerging around the capture and imprisonment of Lev Shlosberg. One can only hope that the repression ends there and does not escalate into torture or possibly even deprivation of life, as has already happened to some — and far from just a few — Russian political prisoners.
But one thing should be said from the outset: this entire case has been constructed in such a consistently grandiose and utterly incompetent way — both legally and procedurally, even under the laws they themselves created, and morally — that in today’s Russia it is almost no longer surprising.
At the same time, Shlosberg’s intelligence deserves recognition. He understood the existence of these repressive laws and tried, through his own words and actions, not to place himself at the mercy of Russian “justice.” He took the risks and legal boundaries into account. But none of that stopped anyone.
It all began when Lev Shlosberg was designated a “foreign agent,” including on the basis of his contacts and interviews with people and media outlets that had already been designated “foreign agents.”
The logic behind this was not entirely unexpected to us. We had already seen situations in which money that had once found itself alongside foreign funds somehow became “foreign” itself — as though it had been contaminated by foreignness — regardless of who had actually transferred it or where it had originally come from.
Even then, one could predict that the next step would apply the same logic to people: speak to a “foreign agent,” and somehow the foreign influence is transmitted to you as well.
And voilà.
A public politician, it turns out, must first check the state register before giving an interview or speaking to someone, just to make sure that the person in front of him has not been declared a “foreign agent.” As if a conversation itself could transmit some sort of political infection.
But then it gets even more interesting.
Lev was accused of failing to brand himself with the shameful label “foreign agent.”
The logic of this system is disturbingly reminiscent of the practice under the Nazis of forcing Jews to wear the Star of David so that everyone around them could immediately see that the state had officially marked the person in front of them as “different.”
But even here, there was a catch.
The case concerned videos on VKontakte which, according to Shlosberg and his defence, he had never published as new materials at all — they were merely stored among his saved videos.
So, continuing this disturbing analogy, the state now demands that the star be sewn not only onto the clothes a person wears outside, but even onto clothes simply lying at home in the wardrobe.
Fail to sew it there as well — and you may find yourself facing criminal charges.
Then came the next episode.
As a professional politician, Shlosberg took part in a public discussion with historian Yuri Pivovarov. He argued with him and built counterarguments — in other words, he was doing something entirely normal for a politician.
Yet, according to Shlosberg and his defence, statements made by Pivovarov, which Shlosberg himself was arguing against, were subsequently used against Shlosberg.
Moreover, the publication appeared on an account that investigators linked to him, while Shlosberg maintained that the account did not belong to him, that he had not created or administered it, and that he had no access to it.
So we arrive at almost a triple degree of separation from anything that actually belonged to Lev:
another person expresses an idea → Shlosberg argues against it → the recording appears on an account he denies owning → Shlosberg bears the criminal responsibility.
It begins to look as though freedom itself were contagious.
Even if you never expressed those ideas yourself, but merely heard them, argued against them or somehow came into contact with them, that contact alone appears enough to make you dangerous to the so-called society of the “Ozero” organized crime group.
And this matters because Shlosberg is a former deputy and a professional public politician. He was doing what normally constitutes political work: giving interviews, taking part in discussions, arguing, quoting other people, sharing and discussing publications.
Moreover, a significant part of the accusations against him arose indirectly: not from violence he had committed, and not even always from his own words, but from the people he spoke with, other people’s statements that he challenged, other people’s materials, and an account he denied owning.
But that was still not all.
The next episode concerned a repost.
And the repost had been made before the criminal provision under which he was later charged even existed.
This is a fundamental legal principle: a person cannot commit a crime under a law that did not exist at the time of the act.
So it would seem that Shlosberg could not have been convicted even under the bloodthirsty laws that the Russian authorities themselves later invented.
But even that did not save him.
The result: 11 years and 1 month in a penal colony.
And this brings us to the central question underlying this entire construction.
No matter how intelligent you are, no matter how carefully you study constantly changing prohibitions, and no matter how meticulously you try not to cross even the artificial boundaries imposed by the state, none of it will save you if law itself has become merely conditional.
Shlosberg is a former two-term deputy of the Pskov Regional Assembly and one of the leaders of Yabloko. And Yabloko for many years was perceived as almost the model of systemic, effectively pocket opposition to the Kremlin.
He did not create an underground movement, prepare an armed uprising or engage in violence.
He gave interviews, argued, participated in political discussions, quoted others and reposted materials.
But apparently it was enough to be a visible political figure, attract attention and retain the ability to think independently.
Because in such a system, laws are merely conditional.
There is a decision: imprison, break, torture or kill.
Then the executors step in and choose the appropriate instrument.
And the instrument itself is secondary:
a knife, a gun, an investigator’s pen, a court sentence or torture forceps.
The law becomes simply one more object in that toolkit.
And, as the cherry on top, there is the Russian repressive system’s favourite formulation: “fake information motivated by political hatred.”
As if truth and love were a state monopoly belonging to the Kremlin.
As if everything outside the government’s official position automatically becomes either “fake” or almost a crime against humanity — “political hatred” toward the authorities themselves.
The paradox is that the authorities may persecute, imprison and break people, while hatred of those same authorities itself becomes an aggravating element of the accusation.
And when it is impossible to prove that what a person said was false, one final universal method remains:
declare everything else outside the law.
Source: Novaya Gazeta
Link: https://novayagazeta.ru/articles/2023/09/08/inostrannye-agenty-okazyvaiut-inostrannoe-vliianie
Source: Novaya Gazeta
Link: https://novayagazeta.ru/articles/2023/09/11/pod-vliianiem-agentov
Source: Memorial
Link: https://memopzk.org/figurant/shlosberg-lev-markovich/