A Russian Uprising

Think Vladimir Putin's iron rule has turned Russia into a land of obedient, beaten-down people? Not in Cherkessk, a city of 140,000 in the Caucasus. A bus conductor there asked an elderly disabled passenger to pay his fare last week and the old man used his crutches to pummel the conductor — because he'd never had to pay before. Not in Tula, 165 km south of Moscow, where more than 40 such assaults on bus and tram conductors were recorded in just three days. Not in Khimki on the outskirts of Moscow, where several thousand travelers heading for the airport missed their flights because a thousand furious pensioners blocked the highway for three hours. And certainly not in St. Petersburg on Saturday, where 10,000 brought downtown traffic to a standstill as Putin was paying a visit to his native city. Some waved signs demanding that he resign.

What provoked all this violence and incivility? A new law that strips about 40 million Russian citizens of some social benefits, including the right of pensioners to ride public transport for free. (As an added affront, fares jumped by 30%.) The legislation, which replaces benefits with individual cash subsidies, is part of the Kremlin's effort to balance its books. But the government allocated just $6 billion to cover $18 billion in scrapped benefits, and starting in February, some medical benefits and utility and housing subsidies for pensioners, veterans and the disabled will go, too. At the same time, prices are skyrocketing. Rafail Islamgazin, a retired army colonel, wrote to the daily Komsomolskaya Pravda about how the law affects him: "I received some $250 [worth of] benefits, but my monetary compensation is now $31 while my utility bills have increased by 150%. The state must really hate its defenders to taunt them like this."

The cutbacks triggered protests all across Russia, and a rare volley of criticism aimed directly at President Putin. "With this legislation, Putin has delegitimized his office," says Mikhail Delyagin, an economist and director of the Institute of Modernization. "He's created the threat of a major state crisis and the disintegration of Russia." That may be hyperbolic, but such open opposition to the government is extremely rare in Putin's Russia — and the Kremlin is still jittery after Ukraine's orange revolution, fearing that some of the popular unrest that defeated Moscow's candidate for President might spill across the border. And independent Duma Deputy Vladimir Ryzhkov insists that the danger is real: "These spontaneous protests signal the moral end of Putin's corrupt secret-police regime," he told TIME.

In some regions, such as Chelyabinsk in the Urals and Kemerovo in Siberia, authorities caved in and reinstated the transport benefits, if only temporarily. But scores of protesters were also charged with misdemeanors, such as violating public order and impeding transport. Pro-Putin Duma Deputy Andrei Isayev threatened punishment to "those who seek to carry the orange illness into Russia." Elsewhere, demonstrations continued into the weekend, and Russia's Federation of Independent Trade Unions declared itself ready "to organize protest actions, unless the authorities change federal and regional legislation" on the benefit cuts.

After endorsing and promoting the new legislation last year, Putin has so far remained silent about the protests. Prime Minister Mikhail Fradkov dismissed the unrest as "arising mostly at the level of psychological perceptions and being fanned by the media." But people still blame the President. PUTIN IS A WORSE ENEMY THAN HITLER, read a typical poster in Samara, 885 km east of Moscow, where protesters blockaded main roads for days. Even the head of the Russian Orthodox Church, Patriarch Alexi II, weighed in, calling on the state to prevent the reforms from depriving "people of the real ability to use transportation and communication, preserve their housing, and have access to medical services and medications."

To many, Putin seems unnerved. Appearing last Friday on TV, he looked uncharacteristically ill at ease. According to a source close to the Kremlin, Putin "restricts himself to a narrow circle of three to four close confidants." With so many angry people out on the streets, that might not be the smartest strategy.