When attempts to change things bring no results and the struggle takes more and more energy, is it worth carrying on? Russian women activists told 7x7 what helps them decide whether to give up or keep going.
“Neither Putin nor Kadyrov will be around forever”
Lena Patyayeva, feminist and close friend of missing Chechen woman Seda Suleymanova
“It’s impossible to keep your spirits up all the time when absolutely every effort you make comes up against a brick wall. Over the course of this campaign, I’ve fallen into apathy and disappointment many times. I’m going through one of those periods right now, too. So for me, the question isn’t whether to keep going, but how to get through the difficult periods, find the strength to pull myself out of that state time and again, and start looking for ways to take action once more.
One of my strategies is to cultivate hope for the future, to believe that circumstances will change in the foreseeable future. With that in mind, I set myself a minimum goal: survival (and there are days, even months, when that minimum is all I can manage). I remind myself that even if I no longer have the strength to fight actively, all is not lost. Sometimes you just need to stay alive, remain capable of functioning, and preserve your physical and mental health as much as possible for the time when you can once again take an active role in the world.
When I feel really bad, I remind myself that there are people who have it even worse than I do. Ramzan Kadyrov, for example. I asked AI how much longer he had to live. The answer was that there was a greater than 50% chance he wouldn’t live another two years, and an 80% chance he would be dead within three years. I’m certainly not someone who blindly trusts AI predictions, or even human predictions of this kind. For me, it’s more of a game or an exercise: reminding myself that neither Putin nor Kadyrov will be around forever, and that the current situation in the country won’t last forever either.
When you’ve spent your entire conscious life under a government that never changes, you inevitably start to see it as a permanent feature of the natural world, something that will never change. Sometimes it helps to break the illusion that Putin, Kadyrov, and others like them are as inevitable as winter coming every year or the sun setting every evening. They aren’t part of the climate or some astronomical phenomenon. They’re just people, as mortal as anyone else.
Another strategy of mine is to remember the positive ‘side effects’ of taking action. Yes, none of my efforts, those of North Caucasus SOS (editor’s note: a human rights organization), or those of countless other people have led to an investigation into Seda Suleymanova’s case. But at least we’ve managed to bring widespread public attention to it. As a result, it has become at least a little easier for other women fleeing similar situations to get help, and at least a little harder for their abductors to pursue them. It’s a quiet result, not always visible, but an extremely important one.”
“Sooner or later, the fire we keep feeding with twigs will burn away everything bad”
Shana Ogney, former Yabloko candidate for the Legislative Assembly of Sverdlovsk Oblast
“I disagree with the idea that hope is fading with each passing day. Yes, there are specific events that make it harder to believe things will get better: the introduction of the law against ‘discrediting’ the army, Prigozhin’s failed mutiny, Yabloko’s disqualification from the election. But hope doesn’t melt away like snow in spring. We need to keep fighting for our values even when things don’t go the way we want them to. We just have to understand that this is a long struggle and conserve our strength.
What should we do when things don’t go the way we want them to? As it happens, I recently answered that question in my short story Step by Step. Here’s an excerpt:
'You know, I was detained recently. It was a day when nothing happened that would bring about any significant change. A day when the country remained the same and the foundations of the universe were left unshaken. One small act of lawlessness went unnoticed by the universe.
But you know what? I’m not upset. The best strategy is not to burn yourself out. If you burn too brightly, you’ll burn out very quickly. Our struggle is long and drawn out. We need a lot of strength, and we can’t afford to lose people to emotional exhaustion.
Maybe you’ve heard of the psychologist [Viktor Frankl] who ended up in a concentration camp during World War II? He later wrote a very good book, Man’s Search for Meaning. Well, he wrote that the first to die were those who hoped things would get better soon, that they would be rescued, liberated.
Hope kills. Burning yourself out kills.
We don’t burn ourselves out. We live. We go to work, spend time with loved ones, rest, smile, laugh.
But you know what? We don’t give up. Every day, one of us adds another straw to the camel’s back. We in Yabloko take part in elections. Some people help others flee the war or avoid mobilization. Others run media outlets, telling people the truth. The straws keep piling up. No regime has ever lasted forever. Every inhumane regime has fallen sooner or later. Ours will fall too. Sooner or later, the straw will break the camel’s back. Sooner or later, the fire we keep feeding with twigs will burn away everything bad, and change will come.
Until then, we’ll just keep living. Step by step. Day by day. Living and adding straws.
Tomorrow is another day.'
I’ve been lucky in life: I’m a fairly phlegmatic person by nature. That makes it easier for me to follow my own advice about not burning myself out, meaning I try to expend as little emotional energy as possible while continuing to do small but important things.
It’s important to learn critical thinking skills and approach everything rationally. Ask yourself: ‘Can I change anything at all? Can I do anything right now?’ And if the answer is no, don’t agonize over it or tear your hair out.
There’s no point in doomscrolling (editor’s note: compulsively scrolling through news feeds) or wasting energy on pointless arguments with people who can’t be persuaded. It’s only worth debating with people who are neutral or undecided. You’ll never convince staunch opponents.”
“I suffer, I worry, and I keep going”
Valentina Sapunova, former chair of the civic organization Sober Zabaikalye
“I’ve told myself so many times, ‘That’s it. I’m not getting involved in anything else. I’ve had enough.’ Of course, the worries never go away, and they leave me feeling depressed and in other emotionally difficult states. But I just can’t stop. A week or two goes by, and I already have new ideas, proposals, and programs in mind. I want to keep doing things. Especially when it comes to helping my fellow citizens, above all children, stay sober. I’ve been willing to push through any obstacle if it means making life better.
There are always plenty of challenges at the local level. It’s very difficult to promote sobriety when working with teachers, psychologists, and doctors, especially addiction specialists. Everyone defends their profession and their expertise and won’t let us activists anywhere near the subject. Or they don’t want to take a critical look at themselves as part of a culture where drinking and smoking are considered normal. To some people, my beliefs make me toxic. Sometimes people respond harshly to my comments, trying to humiliate me or even insult me. Well, I lie there, worrying and suffering, and then I keep going. Times are hard for everyone right now.
We have a property management company, but no residents’ council for our building. Recently, I decided to set one up. I already have experience with this, and without a council, it’s unclear who’s responsible for what. I went door to door, collected signatures, and we held a vote. We got enough votes to establish the council. Now I’m gradually bringing up issues that need urgent attention: repairing the concrete apron around the building, trimming the poplar trees, and so on.
I thought I’d done something good, but it all backfired on me. They were renovating the entrance to our building, and everything was done in light colors, but the handrails were painted black to match the doors. It made for a nice contrast, and fingerprints would be less noticeable. But one neighbor, who I think has something against me, didn’t like it. She turned several other neighbors against me, and they all signed a petition demanding that the handrails be repainted. In the end, we held a vote: fifteen people wanted me to repaint them, and fifteen were against it. But I went ahead and repainted them anyway. And I was terribly upset about the whole thing. You know, it felt like I’d just served 15 days of community service. Then I opened the My Little Diamonds group chat and saw that two new members had joined. That was such a lovely surprise. What inspires me most is seeing young people respond and take action in the direction I’ve encouraged them to go.
This may sound immodest, but my main motivation for continuing my civic work is the desire to make my homeland a better place. I’m also motivated by my fellow activists, and there are so many of them across the country and beyond.
Sometimes, after meeting with groups of students, people ask me what they should do in such difficult times for our country. I tell them: do what you can, and let your conscience guide you. Don’t litter. Don’t give your money to those who produce and sell drugs, alcohol, and tobacco. Don’t use foul language, and help people in trouble. And it will all come back to you in the form of personal success, happiness, and well-being. I know from experience.”
“I doubt we’ll find even the smallest opening to keep fighting”
Irina Firsova, environmental activist from Karelia and Yabloko candidate for the Legislative Assembly of Karelia
“I’m exhausted right now. I have very little strength left, and I can’t promise I’ll be able to get involved as actively as I used to. But if something threatens our village again, if [the authorities] try to hand over the land for quarrying again, I’ll have to do something. I can’t just sit back and watch it happen right next to my home.
The companies that tried to take over the land in the spring quietly retreated as soon as they were turned down following our campaign. But I’m sure some of them will try to get hold of plots near us again. The existing quarries are running out of stone, and Governor Parfenchikov has signed contracts to supply materials for the Moscow Metro. That’s why I doubt we’ll find even the smallest opening to keep fighting.
Both businesses and the authorities are far too focused on making money. And it’s not just about the quarries. Lately, wild animals have started coming into populated areas because there’s hardly any forest left, while businesses strip the land of berries and mushrooms for their own production. The extent of the environmental destruction makes my hair stand on end. Those in power couldn’t care less about people or nature, as long as businesses keep making money and nobody interferes. Because the sums involved are enormous, more money than we could ever dream of. There’s just one thing I don’t understand: you can’t take any of it with you to the grave. Why the hell do you need so much?
I decided to run for the Legislative Assembly of Karelia because elected representatives are more likely to be heard. I wanted to see the system from the inside, and after spending some time in it, I realized just how vast this machinery of theft is. During my election campaign, I traveled not only around Prionezhsky District but also Pryazhinsky District. They don’t have the same quarry problem there, but people often can’t even get to the water because fish farms occupy the shoreline. The protected zone around freshwater bodies used to extend 200 meters from the shore. Now, thanks to an amendment introduced by State Duma deputy Valentina Pivnenko, it’s just 50 meters. One company was given two plots of land without any public hearings. Its employees cut down a grove on the lakeshore and filled in a stream that flowed into the lake. And that very same Pivnenko got reelected.
Trucks loaded with rocks often race along the federal highway past the villages with their beds uncovered, so chunks of rock could easily fall out. My husband says, ‘Let’s write to the traffic police and ask them to keep an eye on this.’ But I just can’t anymore. I tell him, ‘They won’t accept the complaint. The entire quarrying business has powerful people protecting it.’
After the election, I started having health problems. It’s all stress-related. You see what’s happening, you try to do something about it, and you get nowhere. All the local people who wanted to take part [in the protest] have already done so, but I’m afraid there are still far too few of us. Every government agency we contacted gave us the same response: nobody had broken any rules, everything was perfectly fine. That’s pressure from above. There’s no way everything can be fine when you can see what’s happening with your own eyes. Of course, it all leaves you feeling helpless.
But then I start looking into exactly where the new quarry might be located and how everything will unfold. And the closer it is to our village, the angrier I get. And I keep doing what I can.”
