Putin vs. Pussy Riot: Art, Repression, and Punk Rock Rebellion

On March 4th, a post-Stalinist, “free and democratic Russia” went to the polls. Four days later was International Women’s Day, a holiday of special significance in Russia, where on that day almost a century ago, striking women textile workers ignited the February Revolution that toppled the Czar.

How did Vladimir Putin celebrate this symbolic mash-up of democracy and women’s liberation? By rigging an election and locking up a group of punk rock feminists who dared to oppose him. The former is nothing new for Putin. But the latter have, in their own words, made him piss himself. They’re a gang of anonymous trouble-makers known as Pussy Riot.

Yes, you read that right: Pussy Riot. Anyone inspired by punk rock’s most subversive, deliciously irreverent moments will love Pussy Riot.

A collective of some two dozen anonymous activists from various Russian social movements, Pussy Riot stormed into international consciousness in January. Clad in absurd dresses, spandex and neon balaclavas, their guerrilla performance of their signature song in front of the Kremlin put them on the map:

“Rebellion in Russia – the charisma of protest Rebellion in Russia – Putin’s pissed himself Rebellion in Russia – we exist Rebellion in Russia – riot riot”

It was unpermitted, unannounced, and illegal. In other times, Russia’s admittedly cutthroat authorities might have simply ignored it as a stunt, maybe answering it with a stern warning and a fine. Batons and handcuffs have normally been reserved for gay rights marches and union members.

The problem for Putin now, however, is that “rebellion in Russia” is a reality. The widespread speculations of fraud in the December’s Duma elections, and Putin’s arrogant announcement that he would run for president in March, were enough to turn the long-brewing anger in Russia into massive protests in the major cities.

Says left-wing activist Ilya Boudraïtskis:

“For the first time since the beginning of the 1990s, millions of people were engaged in live political action, which took place in the streets. In this political activity we can already observe a battle of ideas and alternatives being played out... This battle of ideas has as its backdrop a task that everyone has made theirs: the bringing down of the Putin system and the re-establishment of elementary political liberties.”

And with that, one can list Moscow, St. Petersburg and others with Tunis, Cairo, Athens, London and beyond in 2011’s roll call of revolt. In Pussy Riot’s own words, "Egyptian air is good for the lungs / Do Tahrir on Red Square!"

Like other rebellions across the planet, the new Russian protest movement, even as it ebbs and flows, has already inspired a whole host of subversive music and art. While the group have clung fast to their anonymity, interviews have revealed that most of their members are are participants in various social movements of the past several years--women’s rights, LGBT liberation, labor, environmentalism and more. Most claim to hold various left political beliefs, and many also reveal a background steeped in Russia’s rich history of avant-garde art.

That’s a history that continues to thrive today. In statements to reporters, Pussy Riot’s members have declared art and politics to be “one and the same.” Their whole aesthetic--the outlandish costumes, their abrasive version of hardcore punk--is intended by its members as a way to further radicalize the burgeoning democracy movement.

One member, who gave her name only as “Tyurya,” explained that "Putin and his team are behaving so rudely, and the people aren't ready to react in the same way--they want all these protests to be sanctioned... They're [the government] basically occupiers, they don't have the right to be here--why should things be agreed with them?"

The American riot grrl movement of the 1990s is also an obvious influence. Another member going by the name “Garazhda” put the question of protest and resistance in specifically feminist terms: "We understood that to achieve change, including in the sphere of women's rights, it's not enough to go to Putin and ask for it.” She added, “The revolution should be done by women... There’s a deep tradition in Russia of gender and revolution--we’ve had amazing women revolutionaries.”

Added Garazhda, “[f]or now, they don't beat us or jail us as much.”

There is now an almost eerie, undeniably painful irony in this statement. Two weeks before the election, on February 21st, five Pussy Riot members (characteristically clad in their anonymous costumes), rushed the altar in Moscow’s Christ the Savior Cathedral to perform their “punk prayer” song “Holy Shit.” The symbolism was intentional. Kirill I, patriarch of the Russian Orthodox Church, has been among Putin’s most vehement supporters--even claiming that Putin was “sent by God.”

“Our Patriarch is not ashamed of wearing watches worth $40,000,” the band said in a subsequent interview, “which is intolerable when so many families in Russia are on the edge of poverty.”

The performance at the Cathedral was, once again, shocking, profane, and unavoidable in the media. Their song implored the Virgin Mary to “drive Putin out,” and repeated the phrase “Jesus fucking Christ” several times.

Needless to say, the firestorm in the Russian media was difficult to quell. Pro-government pundits and priests alike called the performance offensive and hateful. Communiques from Pussy Riot claimed that some of their own members are observant Orthodox Christians, and found it much more blasphemous that many in the church have such close ties to Putin. None of this mattered to the growing chorus of denunciation, which was now demanding that Pussy Riot (all of whom escaped the Cathedral without being identified) face jail time.

They got their wish. On the evening of March 3rd, police arrested six alleged members of Pussy Riot for suspected involvement in the Cathedral action. Four were released, but two, Maria Alekhina and Nadezhda Tolokonnikova, remain in jail. Moscow Police have yet to release any definitive proof connecting either with of them Pussy Riot or the events at the Cathedral. Both have been denied bail, and will be detained until at least April 24th, when their trial starts.

Consequences of being found guilty are potentially severe. Alekhina and Tolokonnikova face up to seven years in jail on charges of “hooliganism.” The women are both mothers to young children, and have been subjected to abhorrent prison conditions. Both have reportedly gone on hunger strike in protest.

Tolokonnikova and Alekhina aren’t the only ones who have been protesting their arrest and treatment. On International Women’s Day, a picket was held outside Moscow’s police headquarters. The next day, at a 15,000 strong anti-Putin protest in the city’s center, countless homemade signs demanded the release of the two women.

Never one to miss an opportunity for repression, Moscow’s police struck back. On March 16th, they arrested Ekaterina Samutsevich, also in connection with the February 21st action. Like Alekhina and Tolokonnikova, she will remain in prison until at least April 24th.

Everything about these events--the arrests, the provision of shoddy evidence at best, the refusal of Moscow’s authorities to show even the slightest leniency--amounts to nothing less than a witch-hunt. All of it sends a clear message to the democracy movement: that Putin’s regime, with its corruption, its injustice and repression, is here to stay. Anyone who questions that will face the inside of a jail cell.

Putin of course denies any direct connection with the arrest of Pussy Riot members. Those who were released after the initial wave, however, claim interrogators informed them that the crackdown is coming “from the highest levels.”

This would not be a surprise. Putin and his United Russia party have been accused time and again of strong-arm tactics going well beyond vote rigging. LGBT marches have been routinely harassed and attacked by police. Pro-Putin youth groups, well organized and well-funded, have been implicated in often gruesome violence against well-known opposition figures.

Nor are Pussy Riot the first punks to face the wrath of the modern Russian state. Artists who dare to criticize the government have found themselves not only blackballed by Russian radio, but have had their shows watched by the Federal Security Service (FSB).

Alexei Nikonov, lead singer of St. Petersburg hardcore group PTVP, said in a 2009 interview there is such heavy surveillance of the punk scene that he and others like him have simply gotten used to it. "We accept the fact that they come to 'watch' us.,” says Nikonov. “Just like I've come to accept that my internet activity may be watched. They used to follow me in cars.” Nikonov also claims that the FSB have, more than once, rushed the stage to prevent PTVP playing any anti-government material, and Nikonov himself has been arrested several times.

All of this provides poignant cultural backdrop for the political and of modern Russia: That two decades after the Soviet Union’s collapse, the Russian people are still denied the most basic democratic freedoms. And while they are hardly the only mobilized people in this position (protesters in Egypt, Syria and even the United States arguably face comparable repression), they are no less deserving of solidarity.

For these reasons, Pussy Riot have almost become de facto mascots for the Russian arm of global revolt. Samutsevich, Alekhina and Tolokonnikova are all recognized as political prisoners by one of the country’s largest prison reform groups. Amnesty International has announced they will review the trio’s case.

Benefit shows and support actions have been scheduled as far away as Armenia and England. A “Free Pussy Riot!” website has been set up, and a day of global solidarity has been called for April 21st. And of course, within Russia itself, the movement for real democracy continues to evolve and grow.

Putin’s minions have obviously set out to make an example out of these bold, brash punks. They may yet succeed, but it won't be anything like what they imagined.

First published at ZNet

Special thanks to Jeff Skinner for his assistance with Russian translation in this article

A Rebel To the End

"O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?"

So asks the book of Corinthians 15:55, which Johnny Cash chose to reference in the one original composition that appears on American VI: Ain't No Grave. That the Man in Black was by this point facing the imminent reality of death should be surprising to nobody. The ten songs that make up this final installment in the American Recordings series were recorded with Rick Rubin mere months after Cash's wife June had passed away. He was so frail that he spent most of the sessions sitting down.

And yet, it's hard to imagine another artist able to greet the reaper with such graceful defiance. To be sure, death had always played a large role in Cash's repertoire. But with his health deteriorating, the gravity of the situation seems to drip off of American VI. The pared-down arrangements, Cash's weathered singing voice, even the release date--what would have been his 78th birthday--all convey a haunting sense of mortality.

Or is it immortality? The album's title track sees a rapturous gospel song retooled into a slow, plodding dirge. The song's tone is far from resigned, however. Rather, it sounds as if Cash is defying death itself to keep him off this mortal coil as he declares that "there ain't no grave can hold my body down."

It's a lyric chilling in its profundity. Since Cash's death in 2003, there have been no shortage of forces who have sought to manipulate and reclaim his legacy for themselves. It might seem an easy task. After all, dead men can't argue, and figures on the conservative right have been notably smug in morphing this most rebellious of country legends into one of their own.

It's easy to imagine the likes of Glenn Beck squirming at this batch of songs, though. Like the other parts that make up the American records, American VI is mostly cover versions. But notably missing are the unique takes on modern artists' work (the version of Sheryl Crow's "Redemption Day" notwithstanding). Old favorites feature prominently here--songs that Johnny had long loved to perform and record. And in their own way, they reveal a stunning answer to any confusion on whose side this artist stood.

One thing that is never in doubt is the deep love and knowledge that Cash held for American music. Several songs are taken directly from the rich history of country music's golden age--Porter Wagoner's "A Satisfied Mind," Hank Snow's "I Don't Hurt Anymore." Others reflect how truly eclectic and far-reaching Cash's influence could be.

In May of 1962, after a horrific performance at Carnegie Hall, a despondent Cash found himself approached by Ed McCurdy, a socialist and folksinger who had just barely escaped the grip of McCarthyism into the thriving Greenwich Village folk scene. McCurdy ended up taking Cash to the Gaslight Cafe, a favorite hub in the Village.

McCurdy was a major figure in his own right. In 1949, in the aftermath of the Second World War, he penned "(Last Night) I Had the Strangest Dream," a stirring anti-war missive that became such a hit that other folks mainstays like Pete Seeger and Guy Carawan would record their own versions.

"Strangest Dream" also held a massive resonance with Cash, and appears on American VI. His most famous performance of the song was at Madison Square Garden in 1969, where he recalled for the audience a recent conversation between himself and a reporter who asked about his visit to the troops in Vietnam. "That makes you a hawk, doesn't it?" asked the reporter. "No, no, that don't make me a hawk," Cash told the crowd. "But I said if you watch the helicopters bring in the wounded boys, and then you go into the wards and sing for 'em and try to do your best to cheer 'em up, so they can get back home, it might make you a dove with claws."

Johnny never did say what his thoughts were on the war on Iraq, but songs like these, recorded in the months following the initial invasion, make it pretty clear what he thought.

Then there's the version of "Can't Help But Wonder Where I'm Bound," a gentle rambler originally written by Tom Paxton. Another player in the Village scene, Paxton essentially became recognized at "Dylan before Dylan." Still writing songs today, he's applied a deft song-writing skill to protests against war, racism, poverty and corruption. Knowing this places songs like "Can't Help But Wonder" in a different light, as if Cash himself is asking not just where he is going, but more broadly what is to become of us, the human race.

In all these respects, American VI represents an unmistakable statement on what kind of artist Cash really was. Far beyond the borders of the country mainstream, he stood as a living, breathing example of American music's indefatigable humanity. It's a tradition that's been hidden from us, no doubt about it. Much like Cash's own legacy, it's been obscured under half-truths and omissions.

Cash himself would have looked at these manipulations with clear disdain. But then, he never really did have much time for the accepted orthodoxy. American VI: Ain't No Grave shows that even in death, Johnny Cash can't stand being silenced.

This article first appeared at the Society of Cinema and Arts website.

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It's bigger than Weezy...

Does anyone else find it odd how much attention is being spent talking about the beginning of Lil Wayne's prison sentence? Not because of how many times it's been delayed (three), not because of the weird reasoning and timing (dental surgery and a fire in the courthouse), but because how many folks a lot more powerful than he is have done the exact same thing?

I won't comment on the charges, trial or sentencing themselves. He pleaded guilty to his gun charge, and has been, at least publicly, accepting of his sentence. There are also undoubtedly other folks out there who have been screwed over a lot harder than Weezy has been.

What is really absurd, though, is that media commentators are acting like this is the first time that someone has been able to dodge jail with shady reasons. Think back on every time a rich, white CEO has been caught with his hand in the cookie jar--and you know just as well as I do that there's no scarcity of these scenarios. The embezzlements, the book-cooking, the malfeasance. There's no denying that these people are treated with kid-gloves during their trials and in the lead-up to their sentences.

So what is it that makes Lil Wayne so different? Why is so much ink being spilled on the delays in his sentence? Well, it could very well be that Weezy is one of the biggest hip-hop icons to emerge over the past few years--which makes his face and personality a lot more recognizable than the average Fortune 500 honcho. But there's also a streak of thinking out there that somehow, jail is where Wayne belongs.

"Wayne is from the streets, from the Magnolia Houses in New Orleans," said retired NYPD detective Derrick Parker, "so I'm sure those guys have been in jail or locked up at some point. So being in prison is no big deal to them."

Right. Being sent to jail is "no big deal" to Wayne because he's Black and comes from the ghetto. The only thing missing from that statement is "those people."

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