Beyond the Walls of Repression: Alla Gutnikovas Fight for Freedom and Change

LONDON — The narrative of Alla Gutnikova epitomizes Russia’s growing repression in recent years.

While studying at university, she became politically engaged during rallies advocating for political prisoners in the summer of 2019.

In the wake of nationwide protests triggered by Alexei Navalny’s arrest in 2021, Gutnikova and three other editors from the independent student magazine DOXA were detained for creating a video that supported students in exercising their constitutional right to assemble freely.

After spending nearly a year under house arrest, the DOXA editors received a two-year sentence of «corrective labor» in April 2022. Later that year, they left Russia as wartime repression escalated across the nation.

Now at 26, Gutnikova is pursuing a master’s degree in contemporary literature at King’s College London. She continues to write poetry and raise awareness of lesser-known issues in Russia, including her opposition to the invasion of Ukraine.

In an interview with The Moscow Times, she discussed her activism, the legal challenges faced by DOXA, and her arduous journey toward freedom.

This interview has been condensed for clarity and brevity.

**The Moscow Times:** What initially motivated you to become active in politics?

**Alla Gutnikova:** Like many in my generation, my political awakening came during a significant summer. It began with the arrest of Ivan Golunov and unfolded with the ‘Moscow case.’ This was two years prior to my own arrest, showcasing how quickly the situation in Russia deteriorated.

When Golunov was apprehended, there was substantial public outcry in his support, as he was a journalist. My classmates and I attended the courtroom proceedings, where I encountered numerous familiar faces — journalists, authors, and academics. We all rallied together, shouting in unison, and then, to everyone’s astonishment, he was released just days later.

This event may have created unrealistic expectations for me. It seemed that if you protested for someone’s freedom, it would be granted. Subsequently, I participated in large demonstrations concerning the Moscow case and attended numerous court sessions. Some political prisoners were released, while others received prison sentences for unclear reasons.

After that, it was impossible to turn back. I joined DOXA during the COVID lockdown. This marked my journey — transitioning from a supporter of political prisoners to someone whose pleas were echoed in court, experiencing the cheers from others on my behalf.

**MT:** There was significant support for you at your court appearances.

**AG:** The support we received was immense, and it’s disheartening that such public solidarity is nearly impossible today. A year ago, in the aftermath of Navalny’s murder, many expressed their dissent by holding flowers, utilizing that day as a rare opportunity to voice their opinions without fear of arrest. It’s crucial to recognize that in our time, there at least existed avenues to publicly express political beliefs.

**MT:** Are you still affiliated with DOXA?

**AG:** I contribute as a freelancer and appear in their videos. I’m proud of this work. Our legal battles have garnered a substantial audience for us. The topics I cover include mental health, homelessness, decolonization, and the narratives of political prisoners. Unfortunately, I’m no longer part of the core team as I needed time to focus on my mental health recovery.

**MT:** Many may not realize the psychological toll of house arrest. While it’s not prison, it still carries its own challenges.

**AG:** Masha Alyokhina from Pussy Riot has remarked that she found house arrest more harrowing than prison because it presents a complex and disturbing experience of existing both inside and outside simultaneously. You’re not incarcerated, yet you’re encapsulated within an invisible barrier. You witness peers advance in their academic endeavors, fall in love, and travel. While they can visit you, you feel trapped, like an insect encased in amber.

The authorities completely control your existence, determining your daily life and having the right to enter your residence at any moment, which can be immensely damaging to mental well-being.

Simultaneously, I held a dual perspective regarding my house arrest. Although it was traumatizing and clearly an act of repression, I was also acutely aware of the severe mistreatment others face in prison. I considered myself somewhat fortunate. Whenever I speak publicly, I begin by stating: ‘I experienced house arrest for a year, and I consider myself lucky.’ Currently, they don’t even resort to house arrest; individuals are sent directly to pre-trial detention.

**MT:** I learned about DOXA through its coverage of sexual abuse within universities. You’ve been candid about your own experience with abuse at the hands of a final exam prep school founder.

**AG:** DOXA originated as a student initiative, but it has always championed leftist causes, addressing issues like inequality, oppression, and violence. The prevalence of sexual harassment highlights a systemic oppression where those wielding power act without fear of repercussions.

Having been a victim of sexual assault, I initially hesitated to speak out. However, bolstered by the work of DOXA, I eventually found the courage to share my story. It’s vital to realize we’re not alone. Those who approach me with gratitude for my bravery help me process my trauma and encourage me to be vocal about it.

I firmly believe that shedding light on instances of violence or inequality makes it easier for victims to speak out. I emphasized this point in my final court statement: it’s essential to label things accurately and differentiate between right and wrong.

Propaganda attempts to distort reality, insisting that what is evidently wrong is somehow justified, or dismissing our perceptions as unfounded. However, such narratives are false.

**MT:** What’s the situation like for young individuals in Russia today?

**AG:** Young people are renowned for their quest for rights and liberties. They haven’t been co-opted yet; they remain passionate and often somewhat idealistic. Speaking from the standpoint of a 26-year-old who has grown more disillusioned over the years, I understand that at that age, there’s little left to lose. They’re likely to pursue the truth and protest.

In the case files from our criminal proceedings, we found accounts of young individuals who participated in Navalny protests. Many recognized the risks associated with speaking out, so they concocted trivial justifications for their presence. However, many were explicit in their beliefs, labeling the government as criminal and expressing support for Navalny’s release while addressing issues like corruption and poverty.

Currently, there is absolutely no space for any form of political expression. You could face arrest for a casual conversation perceived as anti-government or anti-war, or even for donning clothing in colors reflective of the Ukrainian flag. Posting online, identifying as queer, or doing anything that raises suspicion could result in detention. It feels like one has to either embrace partisanship, operate clandestinely, or remain silent, though even volunteering entails risks and is best done anonymously.

The unpredictability of what might lead to arrest has fostered a culture of resistance, be it through cultural expressions or activism related to feminism or queer rights, which is increasingly labeled as ‘extremist.’ It’s essential to acknowledge the pervasive impact of propaganda on education, from early childhood through higher education. Parents face the daunting challenge of teaching their children about concepts like freedom and justice while simultaneously conveying the necessity of silence in public settings due to potential consequences.

**MT:** How have you utilized poetry to reflect on your experiences?

**AG:** I was already writing poetry before my arrest, but I began publishing after that event. I felt compelled to bear witness to what was happening and articulate my experiences. It served as a form of resistance; you could endure an experience and then narrate your story.

When it came time to share our closing statements in court, it was during the ongoing full-scale invasion. I felt cowardly for hesitating to utter the word ‘war’—as people were being apprehended for using that term. I thought I was too frail to endure another criminal case, as I felt utterly drained.

Thus, I crafted my statement metaphorically yet powerfully. I avoided directly mentioning ‘war,’ but it was essentially anti-war. It resonated widely after being translated into 11 languages. Writing under censorship is a distinct challenge. We were uncertain of our fate, making it conceivable that it could be our last opportunity to speak freely.

Now, three years into the invasion, it’s evident how formidable propaganda is. In the initial month, I foolishly believed that public awareness would galvanize collective action to halt the conflict. Many Russians express the sentiment, “If only there would be no war,” reflecting a common refrain among the elderly. I was naive to think change was attainable.

**MT:** Do you still believe change is possible? It appears unlikely in Russia, but could things shift if we persist in our actions?

**AG:** I firmly believe it’s crucial to continue our efforts, even if the outcome seems bleak. Our moral duty compels us to act. While it can be challenging to maintain hope, history teaches us that dictatorships do eventually collapse, barriers will give way, and injustice will be confronted. There’s a book titled ‘Everything Was Forever, Until It Was No More,’ suggesting that permanence is inevitably transient. We have witnessed the collapse of the dictatorship in Syria, which once seemed improbable.

Walter Benjamin, in his ‘Theses on the Philosophy of History,’ alludes to the sudden entry of hope through a narrow gate.

However, such shifts will not occur without struggle. We need to keep fighting; there is an immense amount of work ahead of us. Many feel disillusioned and seek direction. Supporting organizations like OVD-Info and other human rights groups may seem like a small contribution, but it is essential.

It is vital to gather evidence and disseminate information about the realities of dictatorship. We must document everything, for we know that accountability will follow. Whether viewed through a religious lens or in anticipation of a new Nuremberg, one day justice will be rendered. As journalists, poets, lawyers, and activists, we must either record these events or take small actions towards resistance. Numerous activists put their lives at risk daily; it may seem impossible now, but they persist in their efforts.