In Russia Even Good News Is Bad by Masha Gessen Lyrics
MOSCOW — I was about to turn off my computer late Friday night when a letter arrived saying that the bill that would take parental rights away from Russia’s gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender parents had been recalled from the Duma. And then I could not sleep.
If our children were in danger, however great or small the danger ultimately turned out to be, we could not continue living in Russia.
Sure, I was glad. Ever since the bill was filed Sept. 5, many of my L.G.B.T. friends — those who have children, those who are expecting, and those who were only thinking of starting families — had been in a state of panic. Even if they were not public about their sexuality, various people — pediatricians, teachers, neighbors, family members, coworkers — knew, and there was no closet in which to hide from this law. All talk revolved around emigration. My partner, Darya, and I planned to be permanently out of the country with our kids by the end of the year, while the bill was scheduled to go to a vote in February.
It had not been a difficult choice: If our children were in danger, however great or small the danger ultimately turned out to be, we could not continue living in Russia. In effect, we had been given no choice, and this made things easier. Now doubt was starting its treacherous nagging. What if it wasn’t going to be so bad? Sure, Russia’s legislators have already passed a ban on “propaganda of homosexuality” — but that is not as scary as having my children taken away. Maybe I could stay and fight.
I knew this kind of thinking was wrong, so what I said out loud to Darya sounded different: “Just think what we have come to think of as good news. The crackdown is proceeding at a pace of five steps forward, one step back — and we rejoice when the step back is taken. Same thing happened with Navalny.”
Alexei Navalny, an anticorruption blogger, opposition leader and recent Moscow mayoral candidate, was sentenced to five years behind bars on trumped-up embezzlement charges, following a trial that failed to establish not only his guilt but even the fact that the money went missing. When the verdict came down in July and Navalny was placed in custody, thousands of people came out to protest in the streets of Moscow. The following morning, Navalny was released pending appeal. And last week, the court heard his appeal and replaced his prison term with a suspended sentence. Navalny remains convicted of a crime he did not commit, but it still looked and felt like good news.
The day after Navalny’s appeal hearing, a woman was in court in a small town outside Moscow, fighting to keep her seven-year-old son. The woman’s own parents were trying to take him away solely because they believe she is a lesbian. Local social services supported their bid, but since the bill against gay parents had not been passed yet, they had no legal grounds for removing the child. Once it was established that the woman’s ex-husband had no objections to her retaining custody, the court dismissed the case.
That was a lot of good news in one week. I reminded myself that dozens of people were still behind bars for engaging in peaceful protest and that Nadezhda Tolokonnikova, a member of the punk band Pussy Riot, had just declared her second hunger strike in a month after saying she feared for her life. And still, doubt nagged.
Then, on Saturday night, the sponsor of the anti-parenting bill, a member of the ruling United Russia party, said he had withdrawn it only to refine the language and reintroduce it.
Things fell back into their dreadful place, and I could sleep easy.
If our children were in danger, however great or small the danger ultimately turned out to be, we could not continue living in Russia.
Sure, I was glad. Ever since the bill was filed Sept. 5, many of my L.G.B.T. friends — those who have children, those who are expecting, and those who were only thinking of starting families — had been in a state of panic. Even if they were not public about their sexuality, various people — pediatricians, teachers, neighbors, family members, coworkers — knew, and there was no closet in which to hide from this law. All talk revolved around emigration. My partner, Darya, and I planned to be permanently out of the country with our kids by the end of the year, while the bill was scheduled to go to a vote in February.
It had not been a difficult choice: If our children were in danger, however great or small the danger ultimately turned out to be, we could not continue living in Russia. In effect, we had been given no choice, and this made things easier. Now doubt was starting its treacherous nagging. What if it wasn’t going to be so bad? Sure, Russia’s legislators have already passed a ban on “propaganda of homosexuality” — but that is not as scary as having my children taken away. Maybe I could stay and fight.
I knew this kind of thinking was wrong, so what I said out loud to Darya sounded different: “Just think what we have come to think of as good news. The crackdown is proceeding at a pace of five steps forward, one step back — and we rejoice when the step back is taken. Same thing happened with Navalny.”
Alexei Navalny, an anticorruption blogger, opposition leader and recent Moscow mayoral candidate, was sentenced to five years behind bars on trumped-up embezzlement charges, following a trial that failed to establish not only his guilt but even the fact that the money went missing. When the verdict came down in July and Navalny was placed in custody, thousands of people came out to protest in the streets of Moscow. The following morning, Navalny was released pending appeal. And last week, the court heard his appeal and replaced his prison term with a suspended sentence. Navalny remains convicted of a crime he did not commit, but it still looked and felt like good news.
The day after Navalny’s appeal hearing, a woman was in court in a small town outside Moscow, fighting to keep her seven-year-old son. The woman’s own parents were trying to take him away solely because they believe she is a lesbian. Local social services supported their bid, but since the bill against gay parents had not been passed yet, they had no legal grounds for removing the child. Once it was established that the woman’s ex-husband had no objections to her retaining custody, the court dismissed the case.
That was a lot of good news in one week. I reminded myself that dozens of people were still behind bars for engaging in peaceful protest and that Nadezhda Tolokonnikova, a member of the punk band Pussy Riot, had just declared her second hunger strike in a month after saying she feared for her life. And still, doubt nagged.
Then, on Saturday night, the sponsor of the anti-parenting bill, a member of the ruling United Russia party, said he had withdrawn it only to refine the language and reintroduce it.
Things fell back into their dreadful place, and I could sleep easy.