Russian Domestic Developments: Zhenya Berkovich’ Trial
On January 9th, Zamoskvorechniy Court in Moscow carried out yet another hearing for Director Zhenya Berkovich and playwright Svetlana Petriychuk. Both are accused of “justifying terrorism”, proof of which was allegedly found in the play “Finist the Clear Falcon”. The play deals with Russian women who are recruited by terrorists and travel to join militants in Syria, in reference to how since 2018 over 7000 Russian women have remained in terrorist-controlled areas of Syria. Meduza summarises the play:
“This is a text about why recruitment works, or more precisely, what exactly in the structure of Russian society allows it to work. Petriychuk uses numerous analogies between the news story and the Russian folk tale that gives the play its title to make the point that Russian social norms—and the culture that holds them together—make women vulnerable to terrorist manipulation.”
Prominent civil activists and cultural figures, Berkovich and Petriychuk have been held at a pre-trial detention facility since May 2023 as the case lacks legal evidence but has not been dismissed. The speculation within civil society and among cultural voices is that the case was started by an FSB officer, who read the plot as a ‘romanticization of the image of terrorism and discrimination against Russian men’. The detainment of activists and separation of Berkovich from two of her foster children and aging mother are a cruel punishment for their dissent regardless of the outcome of the criminal case. Berkovich’s address to the court on January 9th, which she made in the format of a poem, serves as an excellent synopsis of the ‘politicised legality’ illness plaguing Russian court hearings, manifested, among other things, in show trials for activists and politicians in the past decade. The English and Russian translation of Berkovich’s address, edited by actress and ex-politician Chulpan Khamatova and Katerina Gordeeva, end this month’s summary.
Berkovich:
“Your Honor!
I must state:
That is indeed the case.
Nothing here to contemplate.
Our arguments and truth always seem to align,
Because from the investigation every time,
We hear the same set of formal phrases again,
And naturally, we give the same answer then!
It all repeats, again, again,
I wonder what to do, what to pen,
How to fight, where to begin.
Write a speech, sing it in Buryat, then?
Sell ads in it like a businessman?
Each time they bring us here, Sveta and I,
We hope. But it just doesn’t go our way.
As citizens, we wait for the hour of trial,
Each time, it turns out to be Groundhog Day.
There is only one answer to one question!
We give it, sometimes through screens, or face to face.
No chance to escape, that’s beyond suggestion
And witness tampering, nonexistent, in any case.
I won’t run away from home, anklet-bound,
In this drama, I stay until the final round.
And as for continuing a life of crime,
It’s impossible, for I never
For I never started it, anyhow!
I’m in Russia, under investigation’s net,
Nowhere to escape, nothing to gain.
I still have two sick kids, don’t forget,
Whose childhoods are stolen, once again.
Sixteen years in orphanages — that’s for two of them shared.
And now, at last, a home, safety, a mother’s care.
Can’t you torment me and spare them, I plead?
Simply not tormenting, that alone means the world to me.
I still have the same Moscow home,
Same registration, address well-known.
But my grandmothers: two before the arrest.
Now one. Next month, ninety, alone.
I hope, she will be...
Still, the investigation couldn’t unearth a thing,
Despite all resources and opportunity.
And no one’s in a hurry to close
Our Case of Such Complexity.
This case is dead, all sung its final note.
No saving it with forensics, interrogation, or quote.
Listen, in nine months, an expert could’ve been born whole.
And he would’ve emerged fully ready to roll.
Perhaps it’s time to end the public scorn?
We’re not in the eighties, we’ve moved forward since then.
The distinction between inquiry and a brawl
Is to prove, not to punish, yet again!
But the investigation’s content, arranging things with ease.
How convenient: the case stalls, and we just sit tight.
This strategy suits truly tough heroes, if you please.
The foe doesn’t show on the field, thus unbeaten in the fight.
Your Honor! We didn’t choose this path on our own,
And our journey can hardly be called comfortable.
You see, when the essence is unchanged and known,
The artist is left to work with the form that’s available.
The essence won’t change — there’s no different core,
Any child will tell you that, of course.
As citizens, we count on judges fair, not sore,
A bit too early for executioners, that’s for sure.
But I still believe that you’re not one of the rest,
That your judgment and candor will be put to the test.
And since this test has appeared somehow,
It means we can still await surprises now.
I’m finishing now, I don’t have four volumes,
Unfortunately, not even two notebooks to claim,
But if there’s no hope in choosing the words,
One must bet on their order all the same.
After all, the New Year has come,
The dragon’s arrived, not a spider, or a worm, or some scum.
I beg you, remember miracles, the law’s sum,
They’re nearly synonymous. Thank you, I’m done.”
Judge: “Extend the pre-trial detention until March 10, 2024.”
