Тег: Emigration

“Don’t like it—get out!”, “Say thank you that they let you in at all!”, “Be more modest as a guest, otherwise it’s suitcase, station, [country of origin]!”

Have you heard this before? If you have ever moved to another country and had the misfortune of criticizing the local taxes, bureaucracy, or healthcare out loud, you have likely faced a similar storm of indignation in response. Moreover, this is said by local “patriots” and even other immigrants, who apparently suffer from a severe form of Stockholm syndrome.
 
For some reason, in the minds of authoritarian etatists, the state is a kind of sacred deity. A strict but fair father who, out of great mercy, “took in” the poor orphan immigrant. Consequently, the orphan must fall prostrate, kiss the ground, and keep quiet. Only we understand that this is all nonsense that does not fit into common sense.
 
Imagine that you checked into an expensive hotel. You paid for the room a month in advance and left a deposit. You enter, and the faucet is leaking, the Wi-Fi only works on the balcony, and cockroaches are running down the hallway. You go down to the reception to express your dissatisfaction. And suddenly some guy in the lobby screams at you: “How dare you complain?! If you don’t like the hotel, go sleep on a heating pipe! Be grateful that you were even given keys!” Sounds like the rambling of a madman? But it is exactly the same as the phrase “if you don’t like it, leave.”
 
It is also necessary to understand that immigration is by no means “charity.” Modern legal immigration is a harsh, pragmatic, and very expensive procedure. The state is effectively selling you access to “its” infrastructure. And it certainly does not lose a single cent in the process.
 
You pay for this access long before your foot touches the new land. You pay visa fees, document translations, agent services, language tests, and medical examinations. You go through a rigorous administrative filter that checks your health, education, lack of criminal records, and ability to bring in money. The state power of the country lets you in not because it is kind. It is simply because you are a ready-made, trained taxpayer at someone else’s expense with minimal risks for the system.
 
Does this end upon arrival? Not at all. At that moment, an invisible counter starts. Your life in the new country has a specific price—the cost of one hour of life. Calculate your rent, utilities, insurance, groceries, gasoline, taxes, and divide by 30 days, then by 24 hours. You will get the amount you owe this system simply for the right to breathe its air. Even when you sleep or are sick, your counter ticks. You continuously pour money into the local economy as a customer of banks, supermarkets, insurance companies, and landlords, who, by the way, pay exorbitant taxes. Even if you personally do not work “on the books,” these taxes are already included in the price of goods and services.
 
So why on earth should a client, who regularly pays the “subscription fee” (in the form of huge taxes and the cost of living), not have the right to say that the service is, to put it mildly, mediocre? State lovers adore the proverb “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” Only the horse was never a gift; it was bought at a double rate. And we have every right to be outraged if the horse is defective.
 
Citizenship, by the way, also changes nothing fundamentally. A passport is not the end of the game or an indulgence from levies, but simply “premium access” within the framework of the same contract. Once the counter is started, no one will ever turn it off.
 
Therefore, to the words of a defender of the stationary bandit saying “pack your bags,” you can boldly ask—are you saying this to the investors who invested their capital, their brains, and their time in this country? People have every right to demand quality service, be outraged by high taxes, and criticize unfair laws. In any language and in any part of the globe, regardless of their origin and the color of their passport!

Voluntarist, Bitarch

Do you want to close borders? Start with your yard!

We frequently observe an epic battle between frogs and snakes. On one side – conservatives who are horrified that their comfortable neighborhood is transforming into a small ghetto with foreign culture, loud music, and unfamiliar customs. They turn to a local criminal for bans, deportations, and a border wall. On the other side – liberals who welcome everyone in, completely ignoring the dissatisfaction of taxpayers funding lavish social events. And we, libertarians, stand in the middle, picking up rotten tomatoes from both sides. Because we advocate for freedom of movement (borders are evil), but oppose the state forcing its neighbors upon us.

Why do we all argue over migration? The “newcomer” problem only exists where there’s “public space”—that is, no man’s land. Streets, parks, and squares in ordinary cities belong to the government. Consequently, officials decide who can use them, disregarding public comfort unless it threatens their position. Ordinary people become frustrated because they cannot simply refuse entry to someone into their yard. Their only recourse is to beg Leviathan to institute visas and close the country’s borders. This is like amputating a limb to cure a blister—foolish, cruel, and ineffectual.

How do we address this issue? The answer, as always, lies in private property – specifically, gated communities (“gated communities”). Imagine: you don’t live in “City N,” but within a closed village. You have a contract. The contract outlines the rules. You and your neighbors are shareholders of the district. You hire security guards. And miraculously, you control who enters your territory yourselves! You don’t need the state to deploy machine gunners at national borders. A polite gatekeeper at your village entrance is sufficient.

This is termed discrimination—a profoundly disturbing word. However, within libertarianism, private discrimination (choosing whom to associate with and not) is a fundamental right of ownership. Let’s examine some global practices similar to this.

In the United States, it’s a classic example. Consider Florida or California. Vast territories governed by HOAs (homeowners associations). These are essentially miniature states based on contracts. In locales like The Villages (Florida), crime rates approach zero. There are no “random” individuals. Simultaneously, nobody prohibits hiring immigrant gardeners. They simply come to work; they do not impose their orders onto the playground. It’s a symbiosis: the labor market functions, and the cultural code of residents is protected by a fence rather than federal law.

Alternatively, consider Brazil. In São Paulo, there’s the Alphaville district. It’s literally a city within a city. It boasts its own schools, offices, and roads. Enveloping it are high levels of street crime, whereas inside, everything is calm and quiet. Residents of this area do not demand to close Brazilian borders; instead, they restrict access to their neighborhood. This proves remarkably effective!

And what about in Russia? Even here, a kind of impromptu Ancapistan for the rich already exists. Look at the Moscow suburbs – cottage developments like “Millennium Park,” “Agalarov Estate,” or simpler options. This is the realization of a libertarian dream in miniature (with the caveat of Russian realities, of course).

How is the “migration issue” resolved in such places? Entry is only by passes, so no “undesirable element” can just come and sit on a bench. At the same time, labor migration is welcomed. Residents happily hire migrants for construction, cleaning, and lawn care. But they are not free from responsibility. If the neighbor’s worker starts to get rowdy, the administration of the settlement fines him, and the worker is expelled by a security firm (ЧОП). Fast, without courts or investigations, purely according to the terms of the residence agreement.

And notice: residents of these settlements are completely indifferent to things like the introduction of new migration policy for 2026-2030 with biometrics and other means of tracking migrants. They have their own rules that work better. They’ve created a safe environment without the need to jail someone for not having a passport!

Voluntarist, Bitarch

How to safely cross the border for a person with “incorrect” views from the state’s point of view

The crossing of a state’s border with a repressive regime is not just about buying tickets and collecting the necessary things for life in a suitcase. For those who might have once spoken out against its policies, retained unfavorable materials, or, even more so, engaged in active opposition activities directed at a stationary gangster – it’s primarily a conversation about digital footprints. Phones, laptops, flash drives – all of this is a source of risk. Therefore, we should consider a number of practical recommendations that will help reduce vulnerability and maintain safety for ourselves and others.

The main rule is not to take anything superfluous across the border. Especially if there are data on devices related to any activism or criticism of authorities. Ideally – don’t take your primary phone and storage media with you where this information was stored. Even “remote” files can often be recovered, especially with the resources available to the FSB (or intelligence agencies of other countries). In serious risks, it is better to pre-transfer data to a protected cloud storage, and format and discard/sell the devices where they were stored. This is particularly important for people who were in an area of heightened attention or engaged in serious activism.

Before traveling, you should seriously prepare. Collect important contacts, documents, photos, backup password copies, crypto wallet files, and other critical data. Pack them into an encrypted archive (e.g., using 7-Zip) or create a file container (e.g., via VeraCrypt) for further upload to the cloud. Use a long and unique password that, at the same time, should differ from your cloud password by at least several characters. It is critically important to come up with a good association for this password so you don’t forget it even in a stressful situation.

After creating the archive, upload it to several independent cloud storage services. When doing this, use accounts that are not linked to your activism or your real identity. Also, be sure to download and verify that the archive opens, as you certainly don’t want to lose everything due to some unforeseen technical error. Make sure you accurately remember the passwords for the container and the clouds. Some people also prefer to use paid and more private services, such as Proton (of course, with a new account created specifically for this purpose). At the same time, it is safe to upload your data only to cloud storage in hostile jurisdictions for your government authorities. For citizens of Russia this is almost all of Europe and America, you can use Google Drive, although we recommend paid protected services like Proton Drive, Filen, Sync, MEGA, Internxt, NordLocker. Pay exclusively with cryptocurrency, preferably Monero (XMR) or Bitcoin via a mixer.

The ideal strategy is to cross the border with a “clean” device, on which there are no unnecessary apps installed, no sensitive correspondence, and accounts of social networks you want to hide have never been logged into. The device should also never have had SIM cards inserted that were used in undesirable activities (the security services can easily detect this simply by knowing the IMEI of the device, which will shine together with all the phone numbers used on it in operator databases). Of course, it is desirable to have some old activity on the device so that excessive cleanliness does not also arouse suspicion. However, even with such, you can say that the old device was simply stolen, lost or broken, and therefore had to be replaced.

Intelligence agencies have the resources to carefully analyze your devices and media, so digital hygiene is simply a necessity for survival. Preparatory work before crossing the border gives you control over the situation and peace of mind, which means a lower risk of suspicion from security forces. And this, of course, will ensure the safety of you and those with whom you have business dealings.

Voluntarist, Bitarch

Novemberish

I am currently experiencing a period of some confusion, I don’t know where to best apply my efforts. Not having a ready answer, I simply want to discuss this openly in the post, hoping something will occur to me during the process, and perhaps the readers will offer suggestions too.

Let’s briefly review the past. Since 2018, I have publicly been disseminating libertarian theory, while simultaneously mastering it and filling in gaps where I found them. Since 2021, the theory has become supplemented with practice, and we began building a libertarian community in Montenegro. In 2022 something happened, and respectable Russian emigrants became those upon whom it’s convenient to vent complexes. In 2024 something else happened, and anti-migrant rhetoric began to gain mainstream traction worldwide. At the close of 2025 in Montenegro we have preparations for government to sharply tighten conditions for foreign nationals’ legal stay and readiness of Russians to a mass exodus from the country towards Serbia primarily.

What should I personally do within this entire situation?

There’s a path that Montelibero is pursuing. It has re-qualified as an international movement and now manifests mainly online, with occasional offline activity shifting to Serbia, Georgia and Argentina. I’m already distanced from this movement, because it’s hard for me to understand what’s going on within it and what place makes sense for me to occupy.

There is a spontaneously emerging movement in Montenegro advocating for immigrant rights, covering today three diaspora: Russian, German and Turkish. This is new for me and quite insightful. Russians are still organized worse than everyone within this situational alliance, aside from the Serbs, of whom there are more in Montenegro, but they do not consider themselves true immigrants and possibly think that all these tightening conditions are not written for them. However, the movement attracts local citizens who realize that without immigrants, the country will be very difficult.

There is an obvious route – within about a year to relocate non-hurriedly to Serbia and settle there, and to cease all black Montenegrin activities. For me this means withdrawing previously made investments from Montenegro, finding funds for earning on a new place, forming a new community of communication and mutual assistance. The same could be done with Georgia, but learning Georgian after Serbian – it’s obviously a significant challenge.

In any case, my priorities have changed quite a bit. I don’t really feel like investing in online communities anymore because economic connections are more important than ideological ones. It doesn’t matter that there’s another powerful libertarian festival happening somewhere in New Hampshire, or another major conference in Prague, or another significant reform taking place in Argentina – it won’t directly benefit me. But a good auto mechanic will be useful to me, even if he doesn’t particularly understand praxisology. You need to be friends with him, drink kofu with him, jointly defend your rights and, where possible, bring him some benefit besides just paying for the service, because local communities are held together by exactly these kinds of mutual services.

And also, I need to remember that practice makes perfect, but generally speaking, my strongest trait is precisely the theoretical understanding of how the current world is structured, from a libertarian ideological perspective. These musings don’t feed me directly, but subjectively they seem most important to me. Are they in demand among channel readers? It’s hard to say.

On Emigration

I looked at the poll results regarding the reasons why my readers are staying in Russia.

What pleases me most is that the smallest category is currently under a direct travel ban. For the vast majority, the path of retreat is at least not under fire.

I am equally pleased by the agorists who managed to find an excuse to avoid mobilization. I hope it is a good, high-quality excuse.

Those who are already packing their bags have surely studied the issue well and know where to go. There is plenty of material on emigration; while waiting for a foreign passport and other papers, one can study it inside and out.

Partisans, I am proud of you. You already have over a year of combat experience, and you certainly have no need for my advice. From time to time, something in Russia mysteriously burns or explodes, certain unpleasant individuals run into trouble, including fatal outcomes, secret information doesn’t stay within the narrow circle of authorized holders for long, the morale of the troops is low, state-sponsored patriots are eating each other, and so on. If any of you had a hand in any of this, or in something not covered by my imagination—I don’t want to know anything about it until the war ends or your evacuation is complete.

Now a few words of consolation for the lazy and those bound by insurmountable domestic difficulties. It is very unlikely that the rate of producing corpses and cripples on the front among Russians will exceed three hundred thousand people per year. Thus, even if the mobilization potential of the RF is only thirty million, the state will consume only one percent of those liable for military service per year. So, out of the hundred or so who answered that they intend to remain in the RF, only one or two people will die or be crippled in the war in a year. This is a good chance for survival, enough to keep from shaking with fear. I would shake with disgust, but that is a matter of habit. Nevertheless, I recommend buying bitcoins at every opportunity: if the rate skyrockets, perhaps you will reconsider your ambitions and finally head abroad.

Of course, the main reason not to go anywhere is the fear of the unknown. How to legalize oneself, how to live, how much will have to be spent, how to get money, how long one will have to live in such a suspended state—this worries many even more than they want to show.

I’ll try to share my experience.

It is believed that it is easiest for remote IT workers to emigrate. This is true. I am still sincerely surprised why even one IT worker remained in the RF. These gluttonous creatures have driven apartment rental prices into the sky and still dare to grumble that the level of service abroad is somehow worse than in Moscow. Even if another hundred thousand of them crowd into tiny Montenegro and prices double again from current levels—even then they will be able to live in comfort, denying themselves very little, while all other immigrants will have to pack their bags and migrate to Africa, or wherever else is relatively cheap.

Without IT skills, I was lucky enough to find a remote job requiring only basic computer literacy. ChatGPT cannot replace me, but a well-designed dispatch program could; however, it is easier to pay me 700 euros a month than an entire team of developers for such a program, so I don’t have to worry about my employment. Nevertheless, there isn’t much work of this sort, and without it, I would have to work offline and with my hands, which, however, is not a great tragedy. If you are not an IT worker, it is better to orient yourself toward such an outcome from the start.

To make ends meet, many immigrants rent apartments as a group of friends. This is very sensible. Concerns about privacy and domestic frictions take a back seat compared to the savings achieved. In the RF, I never lived with any one person for more than six months—tensions built up, and we gradually drifted apart. Here I have already broken that record: I have no time for petty whims, you know. Those who have experience living in a dormitory already have a head start.

There is another obvious pattern. On one hand, the further away, the more obstacles await new immigrants. This includes a higher cost of living and the increasing complexity of legalization in a new country. On the other hand, the further away, the fewer resources the average new immigrant has: Russia is getting poorer, it is becoming harder to sell property there for a good price before leaving, and so on. Therefore, the fact that the flow of refugees from the RF does not dwindle is only because the Russian state makes staying in the RF unbearable at a rate even higher than the rate of citizens’ impoverishment. Conclusion: if you leave now, it will be easier for you than if you leave in six months. Second conclusion: at some point, it will become almost impossible to leave the RF, even if you want to very badly.

In 2021, I went to Montenegro simply because an interesting project came up—let’s, they said, build a libertarian community here and create a kind of European New Hampshire (in American New Hampshire, as I recently heard, a former member of the LPR is sitting in the state congress). And the weakness of COVID restrictions also played a part (remember, there was this COVID, under whose pretext all states competed in who could ruin their subjects’ lives in the most absurd way). I rented the cheapest studio for 120 euros a month and received a residence permit just two months after arriving—actually two weeks later than established by government regulations, about which I even had the audacity to grumble. Now this same studio is rented to someone else for 200. After applying for a residence permit extension in June, I received the new document only in November, and I still haven’t been able to open a bank account for the company I acquired—I am literally not being given the opportunity to pay taxes, damn it. Those who arrive right now simply cannot physically apply for a residence permit—the queue starts at nine in the evening the night before; few can endure such a thing.

If I were deciding right now which country to flee to from Russia with my background and current job, I would probably settle on Kyrgyzstan, because Montenegro is already too lavish and too much of a headache. Kyrgyzstan also has mountains, also a sea (of possibilities), also plenty of Russian speakers, also meat cuisine, also people friendly to immigrants, also an unstable government—but at the same time, life is cheaper, and it seems slightly easier with the bureaucratic red tape.

And if I decided to go specifically to Montenegro right now—since there is no Montelibero in Kyrgyzstan—I would no longer count on any residence permit, but would simply do visa-runs every month—to Albania in the summer, to Serbia in the winter. Or maybe I’d just forget about it and live as an illegal. As long as you don’t try to cross the border, no one cares about the legality of your residence status. And when you try, and they pick on you—the maximum risk is a fine and a six-month ban on entry.

Forgive the awkwardly long and rambling post; I just wanted to vent. I simply believe it is important to support my readers, wherever they are stuck right now, and whatever status they hold. Even if you didn’t escape and ended up at the front—well, shoot something off of yourself, something not too vital for life, but necessary to fight. There is always a way out.

Reflections in connection with the special operation

I am not, of course, talking about what is happening in Ukraine—a war is happening there. I am talking about the special operation carried out by Ekaterina Schulmann for evacuation to Germany “for an internship.”

For a long time, Ekaterina Mikhailovna categorically denied the possibility of her own emigration, because she is a political scientist, a specialist in the Russian legislative process, and leaving would mean leaving the field of research. Of course, these are rather laughable excuses, because she herself has repeatedly stated that she always relies solely on open sources rather than some murky insiders; access to open sources from Berlin is no worse than from Moscow. We have a classic cover story so that the enemy suspects nothing until it is too late.

Now she claims that the internship is not indefinite, it is only for a year, and then either the shah will die, or the donkey will, or as a result of the internship, a new interesting research task will come up, for example, in Latin America—but make no mistake, return to Russia is inevitable, so there is no need to repress the relatives remaining in Russia, dear officers of the authorities.

I strongly urge those who find it difficult to decide to leave to adopt the experience of Ekaterina Schulmann. The main thing: if emigration scares you so much, do not call it emigration. As Schulmann has repeatedly stated, people are not leaving for nowhere now. You can relocate to another country while continuing to maintain communication with those remaining in Russia no less closely than before departure. You can continue to work for Russia remotely. You can choose not to sell off your property, but simply mothball your home or rent it out. You can leave powers of attorney with reliable people, allowing them to carry out any transactions on your behalf if necessary. And most importantly—you can immediately outline an approximate timeframe or conditions for return. That’s it; you are simply going for a change of scenery, not throwing yourself into a whirlpool of uncertainty. Admit it, that sounds much less frightening.

Nevertheless, please do not be overly reckless. Study the experience of the pampered Muscovites who rushed out of the country like they were scalded, only to discover with surprise that while it is, of course, pleasant and peaceful abroad, it’s actually damn hard to break through. Many skills diligently acquired in Russia turn out to be useless, employers are not lining up to hire you, and then there are all those annoying domestic trifles, like an unfamiliar cuisine or an insufficiently rich cultural life.

Far from the familiar business and linguistic environment, far from familiar daily life and old friends, it can be difficult. You will have to prove to a multitude of people, who didn’t know you until now, that you are needed enough for them to pay you. You may have to engage in completely unskilled labor, at least for some time. You may be visited by thoughts that you are using yourself completely irrationally, since in Russia your labor was far more effective than here, in a new place. Yes, it may be so. But there, your labor benefited primarily those who are killing people in Ukraine. Therefore, your departure is a heroic act. It is your feasible contribution to the defeat of the Putin regime. It is not the only possible path, but it is a completely worthy one.

Instead, you can go to prison in Russia. The regime will feed you, and the recruit will get less food. You can engage in propaganda and sabotage. The regime will feed an army of investigators, whom you will provide with work, and the monetary allowance of Russian contractors will be more modest. You can earn money in Russia and donate to the Ukrainian army or other organizations waging war against Russia. All of these are also worthy choices.

Actually, there are only two unworthy choices. This is retreating into internal emigration, when you live in the RF as if nothing had happened, shutting yourself off from external irritants. And this is supporting the Russian regime. In the first case, you are a legitimate target for economic sanctions. In the second, you are also a legitimate target for security actions.

Perhaps I will expand slightly on the last point. Libertarians, after all, advocate for the protection of private property. But if it occurs to you to mark your private property with the same symbols used to mark Russian military equipment—you are marking yourself as a target for guerrilla warfare. Moreover, an easy, poorly guarded target. You are a combatant, a member of an organization that initiated violence against a wide range of people, and your property is now encumbered by demands for reparations. Be glad if they only slash your tires.

Georgia is closing

Two and a half years ago, I seriously considered Georgia as a suitable country to settle in and build a pleasant local ancap community around myself. All the sadder I am now to realize that Anton Epikhin was right when he conducted an analysis of where it would be easiest to start building a libertarian community, and ruled out Georgia.

Long ago, under the president before the last one, Georgia responded to Russian sanctions by opening its doors even wider for Russians, offering them the freedom to arrive, settle, purchase property, and start businesses. Now it is beginning to restrict political immigration, and even simple temporary entry into the country for those who publicly declare principles slightly more liberal than those of the current Georgian government.

Going to a country where a former president, who nominally stood on the side of freedom, is in prison is a stranger decision than going to a country where the president is in opposition to the prime minister, and both are desperately barking at each other, but there is no talk of imprisonments. Going to a country that does not allow political emigrants from Russia is a stranger decision than going to a country that does not extradite them to Russia. In essence, all that Georgia and Montenegro have in common today are the mountains, the sea, and the lack of direct flights from the RF.

I hope that those Russian libertarians who have already moved to Georgia manage to get out of the country before they suddenly decide to deport them to the RF. There are too few of us to waste people.

For my part, I can only promise that I will continue to build a convenient platform for receiving those who will come to us in Montelibero.

And yet, it was nice there…

In a world of violence, there is nowhere to escape to

Voluntarist, Bitarch

Support for certain social norms through coercive methods provided by states, as well as state violence in general, is often not considered a problem at all, since a person is supposedly absolutely free to move to the territory of another state whose conditions will satisfy them. This possibility is also frequently compared to a voluntary change of service provider, as in a free and competitive market. But this assertion is fundamentally incorrect, as several arguments tell us.

First and foremost, moving between states should not be compared to changing a private service provider or moving within a state due to the colossal difference in accompanying costs. As a rule, this requires significant funds, which is far from always achievable for people in difficult situations or living in poor countries. One should also consider the fundamental change in cultural environment, ways of life, and the need to learn a foreign language. For many people, these costs prove insurmountable; because of them, most people never leave their homeland and resign themselves to violent power in the absence of an opportunity to resist it.

One might say that while all these costs are serious, they do not make escaping violence unrealistic for a specific individual. After all, the minimum action required is simply to move to the territory of another country. But even this is difficult. Consider North Korea, from which it is almost impossible to leave; only a few manage to illegally cross the border, risking their lives. Or even less brutal dictatorships, such as Turkmenistan, which is also very hard to leave. It would be interesting to know how the residents of these countries would respond to the assertion that one can simply get up and leave.

In general, movement between states is possible only through border checkpoints; otherwise, forcible detention awaits you. That is, leaving a state is possible exclusively according to the rules imposed by it through force. And rules can change at any moment, becoming stricter. One does not have to look far for examples — just a month ago, leaving Afghanistan was no more difficult than leaving Russia, and now people are ready to cling to the landing gear of a plane to escape the violence of a new stationary bandit in the form of the Taliban. This also applies to civilized Western countries, where historically strict border controls and passport-visa regimes emerged as a means of tracking the movement of people during world wars but were not eliminated upon their conclusion. Additionally, those who are already being persecuted by the state cannot legally leave its territory.

And finally, living in a world where coercive power is the norm, you are not escaping from violence to non-violence; you are merely escaping from one perpetrator of violence to another. The fact that you crossed the border guarantees nothing. Upon entering the territory of another state, your fate is entirely in the hands of its government. It will set certain conditions, and if you do not meet them, you will be detained and sent back, even if you have already socialized in the new place. For instance, a number of countries return fugitives from North Korea. Not long ago, there was a case where Russia deported a woman to Afghanistan who had fled from the Taliban, who were trying to force her into marriage. And even from Western countries, people have often been deported to whom violent retribution threatened in their homeland, for example, because of their sexual orientation.

After all these arguments, it is hardly possible to speak at all about the idea that one can simply get up and run away from violence, especially state violence. In a world of stationary bandits possessing a coercive monopoly on power, doing this is extremely difficult, and in some cases completely impossible. Even in the most favorable scenario, you have no choice but to live without the threat of coercive power from above. Violence is in the foundation of every current social system, and this is another reason to fight it worldwide and as a phenomenon in general, rather than only its individual forms.

Navalny in every home (on the coming mass repressions)

In response to the start of the procedure to declare them an extremist organization, Navalny’s team is calling for a final and decisive “Chinese warning” to the regime. Namely, let’s go to a rally in a huge crowd, like the Belarusians, and then defeat them in elections, like the Belarusians. “If they shot at us with rifles,” the FBK leadership states, “and we bravely pushed forward, then now, when they are unpacking the machine gun, we need to close our ranks even tighter; they can’t shoot everyone.” The main thing is not to become like them and not to unpack the guns ourselves.

Indeed, the judicial system in the RF has a certain terminal velocity for turning free people into colony inhabitants, and in the event that any political activity not coordinated with the regime is officially declared a criminal offense, this very system will have to work for quite some time at maximum capacity — which, however, is easily optimized (google troikas).

Now let’s look at a simple chart. This is the dynamics of the change in the number of prisoners over three Putin terms and one Medvedev term. As you can see, at least 360,000 vacant spots have opened up in Russian prisons and colonies during this time. 440,000 people have already signed up for Navalny’s rally, and an unauthorized mass action is planned for when 500,000 sign up. What is there to say? Indeed, it will be difficult to imprison everyone. Perhaps you will be among those 140,000 lucky ones who won’t fit in the prisons and will therefore receive a suspended sentence. Navalny also started with a suspended sentence.

Unfortunately, I cannot offer any more reasonable alternative than to get out of the country right now. Just imagine that you live, for example, in the USSR, and it is, for example, 1968. And by some incredibly lucky chance, you have the opportunity to physically be outside the country. You can leave, you can stay, but the regime will only collapse in 1991. That is roughly the picture we have today.