By Andrei Soldatov and Irina Borogan
At the beginning of the all-out war in Ukraine, the Kremlin faced anti-war resistance from many Russian popular artists. It responded with a media smear campaign against anti-war rappers, rock bands, and stand-up comedians.
But since many anti-war artists chose exile rather than complicity, many went into exile, leaving pro-Kremlin outlets abusing people who could not hear them.
So this year the authorities developed a new strategy. Now the Kremlin seeks their arrest and extradition to the motherland to face trial and a (guaranteed prison term) for anti-war propaganda. At a minimum, they aim to stop them from performing abroad.
To make the plan work, the Russian authorities are trying to secure the cooperation of countries like the United Arab Emirates and Thailand, which have welcomed tens of thousands of Russian emigrants.
This resulted in a dramatic standoff in Thailand between the Russian rock band Bi-2 and the Russian consul who got them detained on January 29 and asked to have them returned to Russia. Two days later, all seven members of Bi-2 were released following the intervention of Israeli and Australian diplomats acting for those who are joint nationals and left for Tel Aviv.
The musicians had been detained after their gig by Thai immigration authorities for working in the country without a permit.
A Russian opposition politician, Dmitri Gudkov, who spent several days in Thailand trying to help Bi-2, explained on social media that the situation had been orchestrated by Russian diplomats and in particular the consul, Vladimir Sosnov, who personally intervened to have the musicians deported.
Bi-2 is far from the only anti-war group targeted by the new intimidation tactic.
Russia’s most popular rapper, Morgenstern, was recently prevented by the UAE authorities from entering the country, where he had spent a lot of time since he left Russia two years ago. He was told as he prepared to board his flight from Thailand to Dubai. Airline company staff explained that he was barred from entering the UAE, a country enjoying warm relations with the Kremlin.
His gig in Dubai was cancelled, and now he too is reportedly at risk of being deported to Russia from Thailand.
In the meantime, Maxim Galkin, a stand-up comedian, and a fierce critic of the Kremlin’s war in Ukraine, now based in Israel, faces a huge fine for his performance in Dubai last year.
It transpired that the UAE authorities had investigated Galkin’s Russian-language performance, and found what it considered anti-Russian propaganda. Galkin’s thousands of fans in the country are unlikely to enjoy another performance any time soon.
He was also banned from performing in Thailand and turned away by Indonesian border guards when attempting to enter Bali, another destination popular with Russian emigrants.
In case anyone thinks these actions were the work of over-zealous locally based Russian officials, Foreign Ministry spokesperson Maria Zakharova dispelled any doubt. She offered a richly Putinesque redefinition of language by suggesting Bi-2 were wanted for “sponsoring terrorism.”
While the Kremlin has been harsh on all those rejecting its loyalty tests since the all-out war started, its new campaign reflects an important extension.
It came just a few weeks after the Kremlin banned Russian writers from selling their books in their homeland. The new targeting of musicians and comedians in exile similarly seeks to shut down their earning potential.
Concerts and public talks have become a crucial element of political activity in the Russian exile community. Discussion and music bring together those no longer welcome in their homeland. Instead, they meet everywhere from Boston and Warsaw to London and Tbilisi. These gatherings provide an opportunity for exiles to feel a little less alone and to hear a familiar voice from happier times.
But of course, such events have also become an effective tool of self-organization in the Russian diaspora. And this is why the Kremlin doesn’t like it.
The way the Russian Foreign Ministry has lent itself to the campaign is also remarkable.
Russian diplomats have a very long track record of cooperating with the intelligence services. One of the departments of the Foreign Ministry even adopted as its insignia the sword and shield insignia of the FSB (the security department). In turn, the FSB 13th Department is tasked to work with diplomats.
The cooperation with the SVR, the country’s espionage organization, goes much deeper. The intelligence community is integrated in the activities of the Foreign Ministry on an institutional and cultural level.
Every SVR spy attached to the Russian embassy or consulate abroad has three salaries, two provided by the Foreign Ministry and only one by the intelligence agency.
It works like this: the first salary is provided by the Foreign Ministry for the diplomatic position at the embassy (the lowest position, that of the attaché or third secretary offers around $3,800 monthly); the second salary equates to 45% percent of the last SVR salary he was paid in Moscow. The third is composed of 25% of the spy’s Foreign Ministry salary in Moscow; this is the sum he (and it is always he) received because he was always on the Foreign Ministry’s books.
The supposed distinction between spies and “clean diplomats” has been superficial for decades: many supposedly clean diplomats first employed in the Soviet era, told the authors that they never hesitated to help the KGB because they were all Communist party members, and the KGB was officially designated as the “advance unit” of the party. This attitude wavered a bit in the 1990s, but only for a very short period of time.
So it is unsurprising that the main diplomatic training school — MGIMO — boasts among its professorial ranks both KGB and FSB generals. Take Nikolai Gribin, for example, who served as deputy head of active measures in the First Chief Directorate of the KGB and when the Directorate became the SVR, headed the Academy of the SVR. These days, Gribin is the leading researcher at the MGIMO Center for European Studies.
In essence, the Kremlin has added the Foreign Ministry to the long list of institutions it expects to implement repression as if the swollen ranks of the security and intelligence agencies were not enough.
Predictably given its recent history, the Russian Foreign Ministry offered not a hint of protest at the redefinition of its role.
Published in CEPA
Agentura.ru 2024