BRANDED: A member of the neo-Nazi group Schultz88 shows off his fascist tattoos
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Casting a glance at a bronze statue of Alexander Pushkin, Alexei twists his mouth scornfully and tosses off some vile talk about the father of modern Russian literature, who was descended from an Abyssinian slave. "How could he be the Russian national poet?" Not that Alexei cares much for culture. After what he considers to be a lifetime of oppression, he says he's ready for war. A lathe operator by trade, his role models include Timothy McVeigh, who killed 168 people in the 1995 Oklahoma Federal Building bombing and was executed by lethal injection in 2001, and Robert Jay Mathews, leader of the Order, an American white supremacist group, who died in a shoot-out with police in December 1984. "We don't consider ourselves Russian," Alexei says. "We belong to the white race!"
According to Vyacheslav Sukhachev, professor of sociology at the University of St. Petersburg and an expert on Nazism, this kind of racism is seeping into society at large. Polls back this assertion up. In a survey by the All-Russian Center for Public Opinion Studies (VTSIOM) published last month, 61% of those polled approved of the "Russia for Russians" slogan, almost twice the 31% level recorded in 1998. According to a March study by the Moscow-based Ekspertiza Foundation, an independent think tank, 60% of those surveyed wanted to limit the presence of people from the Caucasus (Chechens, Dagestanis, Azeris and
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Milder forms of racism have long been part of the Russian political scene. The Liberal Democratic Party, led by nationalist Vladimir Zhirinovsky, as well as the new Motherland Party and elements within the Communist Party, all espouse nationalist policies. The people of the Caucasus "must separate from us completely and never come over here!" Zhirinovsky recently told a reporter from the Armenian daily Novoye Vremya. Some 35% of the electorate supported nationalist parties in the last parliamentary elections, according to the Moscow Bureau on Human Rights.
As leader of the neo-Nazi Freedom Party, based in St. Petersburg, Yuri Belyayev would love to be part of the political mainstream. A burly former police officer who positively beams with forced joviality, he supports President Vladimir Putin and believes the President shares some of his goals. "He is for rubbing out the [ethnic minorities] and for a strong Russia," Belyayev says, "and so are we."
Back in the fall of 1999, Putin pledged "to rub out the terrorists on the john" in response to the bombings of apartment buildings in Moscow and other Russian cities that were attributed to Chechen separatists. Sick of the war in Chechnya in which more than 10,000 Russian soldiers have died over the past 10 years and encouraged by nationalist propaganda, many Russians blamed people from the Caucasus as a whole. Though Putin was clearly referring to terrorists in his remarks and has repeatedly said all manifestations of racism "are absolutely impermissible," some wrongly took his statement to mean that nonwhite ethnic minorities were no longer welcome in Russia. Many people interpreted the remarks as "legitimizing what had been piling up in the mass psyche," says Olga Starovoitova of the Institute of Sociology in St. Petersburg.
Belyayev now frets that Putin is not a tough enough leader, and the country is disintegrating under the influx of nonwhite immigrants. Unless the Kremlin formally recognizes the neo-Nazis and shares political power, he says, the movement will be forced "to launch our version of Sinn Fein to keep talking to the government and our version of the I.R.A. to practice terror."
Belyayev sees himself as a defender of Russian interests, participating in politics but condoning violence "as the only self-defense left for Russian youth." He brags that a member of the Freedom Party pushed a Syrian student under a train in the St. Petersburg subway a couple of months ago. The student was killed. But Belyayev's political engagement leaves him open to accusations of weakness from more radical neo-Nazis.
Alex, a member of the Nationalist-Socialist Society, a newly launched movement that seeks to build a "unitary Russian state," says older Nazi leaders "will be wiped out as failures." Future success, he believes, will come from attacks launched by networks of autonomous cells and the use of genetics to achieve racial purity. Alex, a post-graduate student at a major Moscow university, says his colleagues are intent on gaining positions in business, politics and the media. "Getting people to gradually accept our ideological maxims will get us further than just drawing blood in the streets," he says. "That way we'll pack them into ovens in the long run."
According to Petr Khomyakov, a leading proponent of Russian nationalism, similar ideas are spreading among educated young people like Alex. "I've been watching these kids for years," Khomyakov says. "They meet each other in university classes and scientific seminars. They have this ingrained genetic friend-foe identification system."
Khomyakov warns that both the government and established neo-Nazi leaders are losing control of this kind of grass-roots group. "Nobody knows what's brewing down there," he says. Sociologist Starovoitova agrees that neo-Nazi beliefs are slowly creeping into the mainstream. A few years ago, she says, neo-Nazis wouldn't dare court publicity over the murder of a scholar like Girenko who defended ethnic-minority rights. Now, they do.
Neo-Nazism is like radiation, says the University of St. Petersburg's Sukhachev. "People don't see it, but it's here and it kills. Now it killed Girenko." It will certainly kill again, unless Russians wake up to the threat.
