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Jailed Alexei Navalny on video link from IK-3 penal colony in January.
Defying fear, cold, threats of arrest, thousands of Russians came to pay their mournful respects to Alexei Navalny, long "living proof that courage is possible," at his funeral this weekend. People chanted "No To War," "Putin Is A Murderer," and, hauntingly, "Navalny"' over and over as they waited in long lines amidst a massive police presence to honor a man "who was not scared of anything." "You weren't afraid," they avowed to his memory, "and neither are we."
For almost 15 years, Navalny, 47, a former lawyer turned blogger and unflinching activist, endured "a slow-motion assassination attempt" by a Russian government that sought to break him because he wouldn't shut up, and by a leader who so pathologically reviled him he refused to say his name. Since 2010, when he posted leaked documents exposing a $4 billion embezzlement scheme by the state-run oil pipeline Transneft, Navalny endured some of the worst excesses of Russian repression as punishment for staying alive. He was harassed, detained, half-blinded, repeatedly jailed on fake charges; he was a fiery orator at protests, did "a dangerously good" job running for Moscow mayor, tried to run for president; his Anti-Corruption Foundation produced slick, stirring, deeply researched videos about Putin's kleptocracy amidst his citizens' dirt-poor lives, including the two-hour “Putin’s Palace: The Story of the World’s Largest Bribe” about a $1.3 billion Black Sea villa boasting a hookah bar, hockey rink, helipad and vineyard.
After collapsing from a poisoning by the lethal nerve-agent Novichok on a return flight from Siberia - he survived when the pilot spontaneously diverted the plane to get emergency treatment - he spent three weeks on a ventilator in Germany and five months in recovery. Then he returned to Russia in January 2021, honoring his long-held belief it would be hypocritical to be in exile and not share the abuses other Russians were living through. "Besides," he said with his trademark grin and wit, "What bad things can happen to me inside Russia?" Before he left, he took part in the Oscar-winning documentary Navalny by German filmmakers; when they asked, if he was killed, if he had any message for the Russian people, he looked intently into the camera and soberly said, "You should not remain inactive." Then, self-effacing, he turned away laughing. Putin denied any involvement in the assassination attempt, telling the media if Russian security had really wanted to kill the activist, they "would have finished the job."
On his return, Navalny was quickly re-arrested, the start of a series of grim crackdowns. He was moved between prisons before being given a 19-year sentence at the Gulag-era, Arctic Circle "Polar Wolf" penal colony, with perhaps the most brutal conditions of Russia's vast prison system - frigid cold, repulsive gruel for food, beatings, surveillance, solitary confinement and isolation aimed at "breaking the human spirit." One former prisoner: "It was complete and utter annihilation." Still, Navalny held on. "Few things are as refreshing as a walk (at) 6:30 a.m,” he joked in a letter of forced exercise at minus 26 degrees. "And you wouldn’t believe the lovely fresh wind that blows into the courtyard." Even in his last, gaunt appearance at a hearing the day before he was killed, he smilingly razzed the judge for some of his "enormous salary" to get more books. The next day, his mother, who'd been visiting, was handed a note; it said Alexei had "felt unwell" after a walk and died of “sudden death syndrome.” Doctors confirmed "the death of the convict."
Hours later, Alexei's wife Yulia made a poignant appearance at the Munich Security Conference, where she was scheduled to speak. "I thought, ‘Should I stand here before you or should I go back to my children?’" she said. "Then I thought, ‘What would have Alexei done?'" Still, Russia's repression machine churned on. Alexei's mother battled for days to retrieve his body, and to get permission for a funeral in Moscow, not the solitary tundra. The funeral of a Russian dissident, many noted, "always reflects the political moment." In 1986, that of Anatoly Marchenko, the last political prisoner to die behind bars, was a dark time, said his son, but this is worse: Soviet officials "at least needed to pretend to look humane" to the west; in Putin's regime, "They don’t care about the optics." In 2015, when critic Boris Nemtsov was gunned down, he was due to hold a protest with Navalny, in jail for 15 days; the court refused him funeral leave, but he visited the grave his first day out, insisting, "There will be no let-up in our efforts - we will give up nothing."
Russia's "fiercest advocate for democracy" was mourned across Russia and around the world, where activists protested to show "we (still) exist...The idea of (Navalny's) 'beautiful Russia of the future’ hasn’t died." Grotesquely, amidst the grieving, only a buffoon of America's right seemed not to know that a hero had been lost. The day of Navalny's death, useless idiot Tucker Carlson pranced and gushed through a Moscow grocery store, dazzled by the fresh bread, slick carts and low prices, part of a fawning propaganda tour of a city "so much nicer than any city in my country!" with its elegant, slave-labor-built subway, fast food many Russians can't afford, tyrant-enforced lack of "filth and crime" or messy diversity that "will radicalize you against our leaders." Jon Stewart masterfully ripped his ignorant cant, citing "the hidden fee to your cheap groceries and orderly streets - the literal price of freedom." "Ask Alexei Navalny or any of his supporters," he snapped. "I mean, liberty is nice, but have you seen Russia's shopping carts?" (Or North Korea's).
In the days leading up to Navalny's funeral, the Kremlin had warned "unauthorized gatherings" would violate the law, and across the country they arrested hundreds of people for laying flowers at makeshift memorials. Still, at Friday's ceremony in a quiet Moscow suburb near where Navalny lived until 2017 with his family, up to 10,000 people braved the threats and cold to join what became Russia's largest opposition gathering in decades. Surrounded by bulky, armed, masked police who recorded their passports, a sea of mourners came in grief and rage, gravely standing in lines that stretched a kilometer, bearing candles, placards, armloads of flowers, remnants of hope, chanting “Russia without Putin!” “Russia will be free!” “Putin is a murderer!” and "Navalny! Navalny!" For every person there, many noted, there were likely 100 or 1,000 more who'd stayed home out of fear but were with them in spirit; allies in exile urged supporters to honor Navalny by going to local memorials to the victims of Soviet-era repression.
The Kremlin had tried to thwart efforts to hire a hearse to carry Navalny’s body to the church, the Icon of the Mother of God Soothe My Sorrows. When it finally arrived and pallbearers lifted out the coffin, people in the crowd began clapping, chanting and crossing themselves. Navalny was laid to rest in a brief Russian Orthodox ceremony attended by close relatives, including his parents and mother-in-law, holding candles. He lay in an open coffin, his body covered in red roses; a funereal chaplet, a paper ribbon with the image of Jesus, Mary and John the Baptist, lay across his forehead. Despite enduring church ties to the Kremlin, many opposition figures, including Navalny, still count themselves among the faithful. Though Nalany rarely went to church, he said being an Orthodox Christian made him feel “like I am part of something big and shared." After the ceremony, people streamed to nearby Borisovskoye Cemetery, where they lined up, often weeping, to pass by the fresh grave and toss in flowers or handfuls of dirt.
Navalny's wife Yulia and two children, who are living outside Russia, did not attend. "I don't know how to live without you," Yulia wrote in a final tribute, thanking him for "26 years of absolute happiness" and vowing to continue his work. "But I will try to make you happy for me and proud of me up there." His 23-year-old daughter Daria, a senior at Stanford University, also posted a tribute saying he had given his life for his family and for Russia. In 2021, she accepted the European Parliament's Sakharov Prize for human rights advocacy on behalf of her father. "Ever since I was a child, you taught me to live by certain principles. To live with dignity," she wrote."You always were and will forever be an example for me. My hero. My dad." Earlier, before the funeral, Vladimir Putin was asked if he had any message for the family Nalany had left behind. Putin said he had "nothing to say."
With no coverage of the funeral allowed on Russian state TV, Navaly's support team in exile broadcast it often tearfully on YouTube, where over a quarter of a million people watched; many sent messages of sorrow and defiance, which streamed alongside the images. Scenes from the funeral were also broadcast on Twitter and by some Western media, including CNN, though at one point their Internet connection was blocked. On social media, several people posted footage of the final moments at the cemetery when Navalny's coffin was lowered into the ground. In a flourish true to Navalny's unflagging sense of humor, the coffin slowly dropped to the ending music for 1991's "Terminator 2," which Navalny called "the best film on earth," maybe because it told the story of a small but impassioned group fighting back against a powerful enemy. The last scene sees Arnold Schwarzennegger being lowered into molten steel as he proclaims, "I'll be back."
"What did Alexei mean to you?" asked one journalist of an older woman at the funeral. She responded, "He was not afraid to ascend to Golgotha." Many others echoed their respect for his fearlessness, resilience, tenacity. "We came just to honor the memory of the person who was not scared of anything," said one. Also, "I loved this person, I loved this hero." And, "It may be the only opportunity to say good-bye to Alexei. I may not be able to go inside, but at least I will give a part of my heart." One woman quoted an online comment: "This man sacrificed himself to save the country, and the other man sacrificed the country to save himself." "We act according to the behests left by Alexei Navalny," she said. "His name will go down in history."
Some media reports suggest Putin finally decided to kill Navalny amidst talk of a pending prisoner exchange that would have included Navalny, who as the noose tightened horribly around him had reportedly given up his opposition to exile. Putin, paranoid and power-crazed, could never accept his nemesis going free. But he also - see paranoid and power-crazed - likely panicked, and didn't think through to the dangers of martydom. "Even behind bars, Navalny was a real threat to Putin, because he was living proof that courage is possible, that truth exists, that Russia could be a different kind of country," writes Ann Applebaum in The Atlantic. "Now Putin will be forced to fight against Navalny’s memory, and that is a battle he will never win."
The brave souls, sorrowful but firm, who made their daunting way to Navalny's funeral seem to confirm that. Again and again, asked why they had risked their safety to be there, they said the same thing in different ways: "We had to." "You can't not come," said one woman." Let them see that many remember, many know. It's not possible to silence it." "It's no longer scary," said another woman. "There's already such pain, such anger - it's impossible to sit and be afraid." Another pointed to the long line of fellow patriots where she stood. "It is good to be here in the company of like-minded people," she said. "Nobody is scared. Everyone knows what they want. It is not scary when we are together."
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Defying fear, cold, threats of arrest, thousands of Russians came to pay their mournful respects to Alexei Navalny, long "living proof that courage is possible," at his funeral this weekend. People chanted "No To War," "Putin Is A Murderer," and, hauntingly, "Navalny"' over and over as they waited in long lines amidst a massive police presence to honor a man "who was not scared of anything." "You weren't afraid," they avowed to his memory, "and neither are we."
For almost 15 years, Navalny, 47, a former lawyer turned blogger and unflinching activist, endured "a slow-motion assassination attempt" by a Russian government that sought to break him because he wouldn't shut up, and by a leader who so pathologically reviled him he refused to say his name. Since 2010, when he posted leaked documents exposing a $4 billion embezzlement scheme by the state-run oil pipeline Transneft, Navalny endured some of the worst excesses of Russian repression as punishment for staying alive. He was harassed, detained, half-blinded, repeatedly jailed on fake charges; he was a fiery orator at protests, did "a dangerously good" job running for Moscow mayor, tried to run for president; his Anti-Corruption Foundation produced slick, stirring, deeply researched videos about Putin's kleptocracy amidst his citizens' dirt-poor lives, including the two-hour “Putin’s Palace: The Story of the World’s Largest Bribe” about a $1.3 billion Black Sea villa boasting a hookah bar, hockey rink, helipad and vineyard.
After collapsing from a poisoning by the lethal nerve-agent Novichok on a return flight from Siberia - he survived when the pilot spontaneously diverted the plane to get emergency treatment - he spent three weeks on a ventilator in Germany and five months in recovery. Then he returned to Russia in January 2021, honoring his long-held belief it would be hypocritical to be in exile and not share the abuses other Russians were living through. "Besides," he said with his trademark grin and wit, "What bad things can happen to me inside Russia?" Before he left, he took part in the Oscar-winning documentary Navalny by German filmmakers; when they asked, if he was killed, if he had any message for the Russian people, he looked intently into the camera and soberly said, "You should not remain inactive." Then, self-effacing, he turned away laughing. Putin denied any involvement in the assassination attempt, telling the media if Russian security had really wanted to kill the activist, they "would have finished the job."
On his return, Navalny was quickly re-arrested, the start of a series of grim crackdowns. He was moved between prisons before being given a 19-year sentence at the Gulag-era, Arctic Circle "Polar Wolf" penal colony, with perhaps the most brutal conditions of Russia's vast prison system - frigid cold, repulsive gruel for food, beatings, surveillance, solitary confinement and isolation aimed at "breaking the human spirit." One former prisoner: "It was complete and utter annihilation." Still, Navalny held on. "Few things are as refreshing as a walk (at) 6:30 a.m,” he joked in a letter of forced exercise at minus 26 degrees. "And you wouldn’t believe the lovely fresh wind that blows into the courtyard." Even in his last, gaunt appearance at a hearing the day before he was killed, he smilingly razzed the judge for some of his "enormous salary" to get more books. The next day, his mother, who'd been visiting, was handed a note; it said Alexei had "felt unwell" after a walk and died of “sudden death syndrome.” Doctors confirmed "the death of the convict."
Hours later, Alexei's wife Yulia made a poignant appearance at the Munich Security Conference, where she was scheduled to speak. "I thought, ‘Should I stand here before you or should I go back to my children?’" she said. "Then I thought, ‘What would have Alexei done?'" Still, Russia's repression machine churned on. Alexei's mother battled for days to retrieve his body, and to get permission for a funeral in Moscow, not the solitary tundra. The funeral of a Russian dissident, many noted, "always reflects the political moment." In 1986, that of Anatoly Marchenko, the last political prisoner to die behind bars, was a dark time, said his son, but this is worse: Soviet officials "at least needed to pretend to look humane" to the west; in Putin's regime, "They don’t care about the optics." In 2015, when critic Boris Nemtsov was gunned down, he was due to hold a protest with Navalny, in jail for 15 days; the court refused him funeral leave, but he visited the grave his first day out, insisting, "There will be no let-up in our efforts - we will give up nothing."
Russia's "fiercest advocate for democracy" was mourned across Russia and around the world, where activists protested to show "we (still) exist...The idea of (Navalny's) 'beautiful Russia of the future’ hasn’t died." Grotesquely, amidst the grieving, only a buffoon of America's right seemed not to know that a hero had been lost. The day of Navalny's death, useless idiot Tucker Carlson pranced and gushed through a Moscow grocery store, dazzled by the fresh bread, slick carts and low prices, part of a fawning propaganda tour of a city "so much nicer than any city in my country!" with its elegant, slave-labor-built subway, fast food many Russians can't afford, tyrant-enforced lack of "filth and crime" or messy diversity that "will radicalize you against our leaders." Jon Stewart masterfully ripped his ignorant cant, citing "the hidden fee to your cheap groceries and orderly streets - the literal price of freedom." "Ask Alexei Navalny or any of his supporters," he snapped. "I mean, liberty is nice, but have you seen Russia's shopping carts?" (Or North Korea's).
In the days leading up to Navalny's funeral, the Kremlin had warned "unauthorized gatherings" would violate the law, and across the country they arrested hundreds of people for laying flowers at makeshift memorials. Still, at Friday's ceremony in a quiet Moscow suburb near where Navalny lived until 2017 with his family, up to 10,000 people braved the threats and cold to join what became Russia's largest opposition gathering in decades. Surrounded by bulky, armed, masked police who recorded their passports, a sea of mourners came in grief and rage, gravely standing in lines that stretched a kilometer, bearing candles, placards, armloads of flowers, remnants of hope, chanting “Russia without Putin!” “Russia will be free!” “Putin is a murderer!” and "Navalny! Navalny!" For every person there, many noted, there were likely 100 or 1,000 more who'd stayed home out of fear but were with them in spirit; allies in exile urged supporters to honor Navalny by going to local memorials to the victims of Soviet-era repression.
The Kremlin had tried to thwart efforts to hire a hearse to carry Navalny’s body to the church, the Icon of the Mother of God Soothe My Sorrows. When it finally arrived and pallbearers lifted out the coffin, people in the crowd began clapping, chanting and crossing themselves. Navalny was laid to rest in a brief Russian Orthodox ceremony attended by close relatives, including his parents and mother-in-law, holding candles. He lay in an open coffin, his body covered in red roses; a funereal chaplet, a paper ribbon with the image of Jesus, Mary and John the Baptist, lay across his forehead. Despite enduring church ties to the Kremlin, many opposition figures, including Navalny, still count themselves among the faithful. Though Nalany rarely went to church, he said being an Orthodox Christian made him feel “like I am part of something big and shared." After the ceremony, people streamed to nearby Borisovskoye Cemetery, where they lined up, often weeping, to pass by the fresh grave and toss in flowers or handfuls of dirt.
Navalny's wife Yulia and two children, who are living outside Russia, did not attend. "I don't know how to live without you," Yulia wrote in a final tribute, thanking him for "26 years of absolute happiness" and vowing to continue his work. "But I will try to make you happy for me and proud of me up there." His 23-year-old daughter Daria, a senior at Stanford University, also posted a tribute saying he had given his life for his family and for Russia. In 2021, she accepted the European Parliament's Sakharov Prize for human rights advocacy on behalf of her father. "Ever since I was a child, you taught me to live by certain principles. To live with dignity," she wrote."You always were and will forever be an example for me. My hero. My dad." Earlier, before the funeral, Vladimir Putin was asked if he had any message for the family Nalany had left behind. Putin said he had "nothing to say."
With no coverage of the funeral allowed on Russian state TV, Navaly's support team in exile broadcast it often tearfully on YouTube, where over a quarter of a million people watched; many sent messages of sorrow and defiance, which streamed alongside the images. Scenes from the funeral were also broadcast on Twitter and by some Western media, including CNN, though at one point their Internet connection was blocked. On social media, several people posted footage of the final moments at the cemetery when Navalny's coffin was lowered into the ground. In a flourish true to Navalny's unflagging sense of humor, the coffin slowly dropped to the ending music for 1991's "Terminator 2," which Navalny called "the best film on earth," maybe because it told the story of a small but impassioned group fighting back against a powerful enemy. The last scene sees Arnold Schwarzennegger being lowered into molten steel as he proclaims, "I'll be back."
"What did Alexei mean to you?" asked one journalist of an older woman at the funeral. She responded, "He was not afraid to ascend to Golgotha." Many others echoed their respect for his fearlessness, resilience, tenacity. "We came just to honor the memory of the person who was not scared of anything," said one. Also, "I loved this person, I loved this hero." And, "It may be the only opportunity to say good-bye to Alexei. I may not be able to go inside, but at least I will give a part of my heart." One woman quoted an online comment: "This man sacrificed himself to save the country, and the other man sacrificed the country to save himself." "We act according to the behests left by Alexei Navalny," she said. "His name will go down in history."
Some media reports suggest Putin finally decided to kill Navalny amidst talk of a pending prisoner exchange that would have included Navalny, who as the noose tightened horribly around him had reportedly given up his opposition to exile. Putin, paranoid and power-crazed, could never accept his nemesis going free. But he also - see paranoid and power-crazed - likely panicked, and didn't think through to the dangers of martydom. "Even behind bars, Navalny was a real threat to Putin, because he was living proof that courage is possible, that truth exists, that Russia could be a different kind of country," writes Ann Applebaum in The Atlantic. "Now Putin will be forced to fight against Navalny’s memory, and that is a battle he will never win."
The brave souls, sorrowful but firm, who made their daunting way to Navalny's funeral seem to confirm that. Again and again, asked why they had risked their safety to be there, they said the same thing in different ways: "We had to." "You can't not come," said one woman." Let them see that many remember, many know. It's not possible to silence it." "It's no longer scary," said another woman. "There's already such pain, such anger - it's impossible to sit and be afraid." Another pointed to the long line of fellow patriots where she stood. "It is good to be here in the company of like-minded people," she said. "Nobody is scared. Everyone knows what they want. It is not scary when we are together."
Defying fear, cold, threats of arrest, thousands of Russians came to pay their mournful respects to Alexei Navalny, long "living proof that courage is possible," at his funeral this weekend. People chanted "No To War," "Putin Is A Murderer," and, hauntingly, "Navalny"' over and over as they waited in long lines amidst a massive police presence to honor a man "who was not scared of anything." "You weren't afraid," they avowed to his memory, "and neither are we."
For almost 15 years, Navalny, 47, a former lawyer turned blogger and unflinching activist, endured "a slow-motion assassination attempt" by a Russian government that sought to break him because he wouldn't shut up, and by a leader who so pathologically reviled him he refused to say his name. Since 2010, when he posted leaked documents exposing a $4 billion embezzlement scheme by the state-run oil pipeline Transneft, Navalny endured some of the worst excesses of Russian repression as punishment for staying alive. He was harassed, detained, half-blinded, repeatedly jailed on fake charges; he was a fiery orator at protests, did "a dangerously good" job running for Moscow mayor, tried to run for president; his Anti-Corruption Foundation produced slick, stirring, deeply researched videos about Putin's kleptocracy amidst his citizens' dirt-poor lives, including the two-hour “Putin’s Palace: The Story of the World’s Largest Bribe” about a $1.3 billion Black Sea villa boasting a hookah bar, hockey rink, helipad and vineyard.
After collapsing from a poisoning by the lethal nerve-agent Novichok on a return flight from Siberia - he survived when the pilot spontaneously diverted the plane to get emergency treatment - he spent three weeks on a ventilator in Germany and five months in recovery. Then he returned to Russia in January 2021, honoring his long-held belief it would be hypocritical to be in exile and not share the abuses other Russians were living through. "Besides," he said with his trademark grin and wit, "What bad things can happen to me inside Russia?" Before he left, he took part in the Oscar-winning documentary Navalny by German filmmakers; when they asked, if he was killed, if he had any message for the Russian people, he looked intently into the camera and soberly said, "You should not remain inactive." Then, self-effacing, he turned away laughing. Putin denied any involvement in the assassination attempt, telling the media if Russian security had really wanted to kill the activist, they "would have finished the job."
On his return, Navalny was quickly re-arrested, the start of a series of grim crackdowns. He was moved between prisons before being given a 19-year sentence at the Gulag-era, Arctic Circle "Polar Wolf" penal colony, with perhaps the most brutal conditions of Russia's vast prison system - frigid cold, repulsive gruel for food, beatings, surveillance, solitary confinement and isolation aimed at "breaking the human spirit." One former prisoner: "It was complete and utter annihilation." Still, Navalny held on. "Few things are as refreshing as a walk (at) 6:30 a.m,” he joked in a letter of forced exercise at minus 26 degrees. "And you wouldn’t believe the lovely fresh wind that blows into the courtyard." Even in his last, gaunt appearance at a hearing the day before he was killed, he smilingly razzed the judge for some of his "enormous salary" to get more books. The next day, his mother, who'd been visiting, was handed a note; it said Alexei had "felt unwell" after a walk and died of “sudden death syndrome.” Doctors confirmed "the death of the convict."
Hours later, Alexei's wife Yulia made a poignant appearance at the Munich Security Conference, where she was scheduled to speak. "I thought, ‘Should I stand here before you or should I go back to my children?’" she said. "Then I thought, ‘What would have Alexei done?'" Still, Russia's repression machine churned on. Alexei's mother battled for days to retrieve his body, and to get permission for a funeral in Moscow, not the solitary tundra. The funeral of a Russian dissident, many noted, "always reflects the political moment." In 1986, that of Anatoly Marchenko, the last political prisoner to die behind bars, was a dark time, said his son, but this is worse: Soviet officials "at least needed to pretend to look humane" to the west; in Putin's regime, "They don’t care about the optics." In 2015, when critic Boris Nemtsov was gunned down, he was due to hold a protest with Navalny, in jail for 15 days; the court refused him funeral leave, but he visited the grave his first day out, insisting, "There will be no let-up in our efforts - we will give up nothing."
Russia's "fiercest advocate for democracy" was mourned across Russia and around the world, where activists protested to show "we (still) exist...The idea of (Navalny's) 'beautiful Russia of the future’ hasn’t died." Grotesquely, amidst the grieving, only a buffoon of America's right seemed not to know that a hero had been lost. The day of Navalny's death, useless idiot Tucker Carlson pranced and gushed through a Moscow grocery store, dazzled by the fresh bread, slick carts and low prices, part of a fawning propaganda tour of a city "so much nicer than any city in my country!" with its elegant, slave-labor-built subway, fast food many Russians can't afford, tyrant-enforced lack of "filth and crime" or messy diversity that "will radicalize you against our leaders." Jon Stewart masterfully ripped his ignorant cant, citing "the hidden fee to your cheap groceries and orderly streets - the literal price of freedom." "Ask Alexei Navalny or any of his supporters," he snapped. "I mean, liberty is nice, but have you seen Russia's shopping carts?" (Or North Korea's).
In the days leading up to Navalny's funeral, the Kremlin had warned "unauthorized gatherings" would violate the law, and across the country they arrested hundreds of people for laying flowers at makeshift memorials. Still, at Friday's ceremony in a quiet Moscow suburb near where Navalny lived until 2017 with his family, up to 10,000 people braved the threats and cold to join what became Russia's largest opposition gathering in decades. Surrounded by bulky, armed, masked police who recorded their passports, a sea of mourners came in grief and rage, gravely standing in lines that stretched a kilometer, bearing candles, placards, armloads of flowers, remnants of hope, chanting “Russia without Putin!” “Russia will be free!” “Putin is a murderer!” and "Navalny! Navalny!" For every person there, many noted, there were likely 100 or 1,000 more who'd stayed home out of fear but were with them in spirit; allies in exile urged supporters to honor Navalny by going to local memorials to the victims of Soviet-era repression.
The Kremlin had tried to thwart efforts to hire a hearse to carry Navalny’s body to the church, the Icon of the Mother of God Soothe My Sorrows. When it finally arrived and pallbearers lifted out the coffin, people in the crowd began clapping, chanting and crossing themselves. Navalny was laid to rest in a brief Russian Orthodox ceremony attended by close relatives, including his parents and mother-in-law, holding candles. He lay in an open coffin, his body covered in red roses; a funereal chaplet, a paper ribbon with the image of Jesus, Mary and John the Baptist, lay across his forehead. Despite enduring church ties to the Kremlin, many opposition figures, including Navalny, still count themselves among the faithful. Though Nalany rarely went to church, he said being an Orthodox Christian made him feel “like I am part of something big and shared." After the ceremony, people streamed to nearby Borisovskoye Cemetery, where they lined up, often weeping, to pass by the fresh grave and toss in flowers or handfuls of dirt.
Navalny's wife Yulia and two children, who are living outside Russia, did not attend. "I don't know how to live without you," Yulia wrote in a final tribute, thanking him for "26 years of absolute happiness" and vowing to continue his work. "But I will try to make you happy for me and proud of me up there." His 23-year-old daughter Daria, a senior at Stanford University, also posted a tribute saying he had given his life for his family and for Russia. In 2021, she accepted the European Parliament's Sakharov Prize for human rights advocacy on behalf of her father. "Ever since I was a child, you taught me to live by certain principles. To live with dignity," she wrote."You always were and will forever be an example for me. My hero. My dad." Earlier, before the funeral, Vladimir Putin was asked if he had any message for the family Nalany had left behind. Putin said he had "nothing to say."
With no coverage of the funeral allowed on Russian state TV, Navaly's support team in exile broadcast it often tearfully on YouTube, where over a quarter of a million people watched; many sent messages of sorrow and defiance, which streamed alongside the images. Scenes from the funeral were also broadcast on Twitter and by some Western media, including CNN, though at one point their Internet connection was blocked. On social media, several people posted footage of the final moments at the cemetery when Navalny's coffin was lowered into the ground. In a flourish true to Navalny's unflagging sense of humor, the coffin slowly dropped to the ending music for 1991's "Terminator 2," which Navalny called "the best film on earth," maybe because it told the story of a small but impassioned group fighting back against a powerful enemy. The last scene sees Arnold Schwarzennegger being lowered into molten steel as he proclaims, "I'll be back."
"What did Alexei mean to you?" asked one journalist of an older woman at the funeral. She responded, "He was not afraid to ascend to Golgotha." Many others echoed their respect for his fearlessness, resilience, tenacity. "We came just to honor the memory of the person who was not scared of anything," said one. Also, "I loved this person, I loved this hero." And, "It may be the only opportunity to say good-bye to Alexei. I may not be able to go inside, but at least I will give a part of my heart." One woman quoted an online comment: "This man sacrificed himself to save the country, and the other man sacrificed the country to save himself." "We act according to the behests left by Alexei Navalny," she said. "His name will go down in history."
Some media reports suggest Putin finally decided to kill Navalny amidst talk of a pending prisoner exchange that would have included Navalny, who as the noose tightened horribly around him had reportedly given up his opposition to exile. Putin, paranoid and power-crazed, could never accept his nemesis going free. But he also - see paranoid and power-crazed - likely panicked, and didn't think through to the dangers of martydom. "Even behind bars, Navalny was a real threat to Putin, because he was living proof that courage is possible, that truth exists, that Russia could be a different kind of country," writes Ann Applebaum in The Atlantic. "Now Putin will be forced to fight against Navalny’s memory, and that is a battle he will never win."
The brave souls, sorrowful but firm, who made their daunting way to Navalny's funeral seem to confirm that. Again and again, asked why they had risked their safety to be there, they said the same thing in different ways: "We had to." "You can't not come," said one woman." Let them see that many remember, many know. It's not possible to silence it." "It's no longer scary," said another woman. "There's already such pain, such anger - it's impossible to sit and be afraid." Another pointed to the long line of fellow patriots where she stood. "It is good to be here in the company of like-minded people," she said. "Nobody is scared. Everyone knows what they want. It is not scary when we are together."
"What is it going to take for Senate Republicans to oppose this unfit nominee? Every Republican senator who votes to confirm Bove will be complicit in undermining the rule of law and judicial independence."
After a second whistleblower came forward claiming that Emil Bove III instructed attorneys at the U.S. Department of Justice to ignore federal court orders, his critics on Friday renewed calls for the Senate to reject the DOJ official's appointment as an appellate judge.
"Evidence is growing that Emil Bove urged Department of Justice lawyers to ignore federal court orders. That alone should disqualify him from a lifetime appointment to one of the most powerful courts in our country," said Sean Eldridge, president and founder of the progressive advocacy group Stand Up America, in a statement.
U.S. President Donald Trump announced in late May that he would nominate Bove, his former personal attorney, to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 3rd Circuit. Then, last month, a whistleblower complaint was filed by Erez Reuveni, who was fired from the DOJ's Office of Immigration Litigation in April after expressing concerns about the Kilmar Ábrego García case.
On Friday, as the Republican-controlled Senate was moving toward confirming Bove, the group Whistleblower Aid announced that another former Justice Department lawyer, whose name is not being disclosed, "has lawfully disclosed evidence to the DOJ's Office of the Inspector General that corroborates the thrust of the whistleblower claims" from Reuveni.
"Loyalty to one individual must never outweigh supporting and protecting the fundamental rights of those living in the United States."
"What we're seeing here is something I never thought would be possible on such a wide scale: federal prosecutors appointed by the Trump administration intentionally presenting dubious if not outright false evidence to a court of jurisdiction in cases that impact a person's fundamental rights not only under our Constitution, but their natural rights as humans," said Whistleblower Aid chief legal counsel Andrew Bakaj in a statement.
"What this means is that federal career attorneys who swore an oath to uphold the Constitution are now being pressured to abdicate that promise in favor of fealty to a single person, specifically Donald Trump. Loyalty to one individual must never outweigh supporting and protecting the fundamental rights of those living in the United States," Bakaj added. "Our client and Mr. Reuveni are true patriots—prioritizing their commitment to democracy over advancing their careers."
Bove has also faced mounting opposition—including from dozens of former judges—due to his embrace of the so-called "unitary executive theory" as well as his positions on a potential third Trump term and the January 6, 2021 attack on the U.S. Capitol by the president's supporters.
The Senate on Thursday voted 50-48 to proceed with the consideration of Bove's nomination. Republican Sens. Lisa Murkowski (Alaska) and Susan Collins (Maine) joined all Democrats in opposition. Responding in a statement, Demand Justice interim executive director Maggie Jo Buchanan warned that "Bove will be a stain on the judiciary if confirmed."
"Voting to confirm Trump's judicial nominees to lifetime seats on the federal bench, as he wages a war on the very idea of judicial independence, is an unacceptable choice for any senator who believes in our democracy and the importance of individual rights," said Buchanan, who also blasted the Senate's Tuesday confirmation of Joshua Divine to be a U.S. district judge for the Eastern and Western Districts of Missouri.
"Trump and his MAGA allies are helping him consolidate power in the executive branch, attacking judges who dare to rule against his interests, and targeting Trump's perceived political enemies—all while seemingly unconcerned about the future this sets up for our nation," she stressed. "Every senator will have to decide where they stand when it comes to this assault on our country's values—and that choice will not be forgotten."
After news of the second whistleblower complaint broke on Friday, Stand Up America's Eldridge declared that "again and again, Bove has proven he lacks the temperament, integrity, and independence to serve on the federal bench. He's nothing more than a political foot soldier doing Trump's bidding."
"What is it going to take for Senate Republicans to oppose this unfit nominee?" he added. "Every Republican senator who votes to confirm Bove will be complicit in undermining the rule of law and judicial independence."
"This administration deserves no credit for just barely averting a crisis they themselves set in motion," said one Democratic senator.
While welcoming reporting that the Trump administration will release more than $5 billion in federal funding for schools that it has been withholding for nearly a month, U.S. educators and others said Friday that the funds should never have been held up in the first place and warned that the attempt to do so was just one part of an ongoing campaign to undermine public education.
The Trump administration placed nearly $7 billion in federal education funding for K-12 public schools under review last month, then released $1.3 billion of it last week amid legal action and widespread backlash. An administration official speaking on condition of anonymity told The Washington Post that all reviews of remaining funding are now over.
"There is no good reason for the chaos and stress this president has inflicted on students, teachers, and parents across America for the last month, and it shouldn't take widespread blowback for this administration to do its job and simply get the funding out the door that Congress has delivered to help students," U.S. Senate Appropriations Committee Vice Chair Patty Murray (D-Wash.) said Friday.
"This administration deserves no credit for just barely averting a crisis they themselves set in motion," Murray added. "You don't thank a burglar for returning your cash after you've spent a month figuring out if you'd have to sell your house to make up the difference."
🚨After unlawfully withholding billions in education funding for schools, the Trump Admin. has reversed course.This is a massive victory for students, educators, & families who depend on these essential resources.And it's a testament to public pressure & relentless organizing.
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— Congresswoman Ayanna Pressley (@pressley.house.gov) July 25, 2025 at 1:42 PM
Skye Perryman, president and CEO of Democracy Forward—which represents plaintiffs in a lawsuit challenging the Trump administration's funding freeze—said Friday that "if these reports are true, this is a major victory for public education and the communities it serves."
"This news following our legal challenge is a direct result of collective action by educators, families, and advocates across the country," Perryman asserted. "These funds are critical to keeping teachers in classrooms, supporting students in vulnerable conditions, and ensuring schools can offer the programs and services that every child deserves."
"While this development shows that legal and public pressure can make a difference, school districts, parents, and educators should not have to take the administration to court to secure funds for their students," she added. "Our promise to the people remains: We will go to court to protect the rights and well-being of all people living in America."
Democratic Arizona Attorney General Kris Mayes—a plaintiff in a separate lawsuit challenging the withholding—attributed the administration's backpedaling to litigatory pressure, arguing that the funding "should never have been withheld in the first place."
They released the 7 B IN SCHOOL FUNDS!! This is a huge win. It means fighting back matters. Fighting for what kids & communities need is always the right thing to do! www.washingtonpost.com/education/20...
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— Randi Weingarten (@rweingarten.bsky.social) July 25, 2025 at 11:46 AM
Becky Pringle, president of the National Education Association—the largest U.S. labor union—said in a statement: "Playing games with students' futures has real-world consequences. School districts in every state have been scrambling to figure out how they will continue to meet student needs without this vital federal funding, and many students in parts of the country have already headed back to school. These reckless funding delays have undermined planning, staffing, and support services at a time when schools should be focused on preparing students for success."
"Sadly, this is part of a broader pattern by this administration of undermining public education—starving it of resources, sowing distrust, and pushing privatization at the expense of the nation's most vulnerable students," Pringle added. "And they are doing this at the same time Congress has passed a budget bill that will devastate our students, schools, and communities by slashing funds meant for public education, healthcare, and keeping students from their school meals—all to finance massive tax breaks for billionaires."
While expanding support for private education, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act signed by President Donald Trump earlier this month weakens public school programs including before- and after-school initiatives and services for English language learners.
"Sadly, this is part of a broader pattern by this administration of undermining public education."
Trump also signed an executive order in March directing Education Secretary Linda McMahon to begin the process of shutting down the Department of Education—a longtime goal of Project 2025, the Heritage Foundation-led roadmap for a far-right takeover and gutting of the federal government closely linked to Trump, despite his unconvincing efforts to distance himself from the highly controversial and unpopular plan.
Earlier this week, the nonpartisan Government Accountability Office determined that the U.S. Health and Human Services Department illegally impounded crucial funds from the Head Start program, which provides comprehensive early childhood education, health, nutrition, and other services to low-income families.
"Instead of spending the last many weeks figuring out how to improve after-school options and get our kids' reading and math scores up, because of President Trump, communities across the country have been forced to spend their time cutting back on tutoring options and sorting out how many teachers they will have to lay off," Murray noted.
"It's time for President Trump, Secretary McMahon, and [Office of Management and Budget Director] Russ Vought to stop playing games with students' futures and families' livelihoods—and end their illegal assault on our students and their schools," the senator added.
"You want history books to not record you as an evil genocide supporter?" said one organizer. "You need to actually make an impact, NOW."
U.S. college students are still facing punishment for protesting Israel's U.S.-backed bombardment of Gaza and its starvation of more than 2 million Palestinians there, with Columbia University announcing this week the suspension and expulsion of dozens of students who spoke out over the past year.
But a number of observers have pointed to a shift in the rhetoric of some of the student organizers' biggest detractors in recent days, with former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton notably saying Thursday that "thousands of children in Gaza are at risk of starvation while trucks full of food sit waiting across the border" and calling for "the full flow of humanitarian assistance" to be restored.
Clinton didn't mention the Israeli blockade that has kept food from reaching Palestinians, more than 120 of whom have now died of starvation, or the at least $12.5 billion in military aid the U.S. has provided to Israel since the blockade first began in October 2023—in violation of U.S. laws prohibiting the government from giving military aid to countries that block humanitarian aid.
The former Democratic presidential nominee also didn't acknowledge the remarks she made in May 2024 about the campus protests that were spreading across the country, with students demanding that their schools divest from companies that work with the Israeli government and that the country end its support for the Israel Defense Forces (IDF).
At the time, Clinton said students who oppose Israel's policies in Gaza and the West Bank "don't know very much" about the conflict there. Clinton and other politicians from both the Democratic and Republican parties have repeated the familiar phrase, "Israel has a right to defend itself" as the IDF has attacked so-called "safe zones," hospitals, and refugee camps.
Some suggested her comments on Thursday appeared to be those of an influential political figure who's come to a realization about the situation that both the Biden and Trump administrations, with bipartisan support from Congress, have helped to bring about in Gaza.
"Seems mostly like all the recent photos of starving children are responsible for this shift, though humanitarian aid groups have been warning about this for months and months," said Washington Post reporter Jeff Stein.
One observer said Clinton and a number of European leaders are speaking out now because Israel has already "carried out their final solution."
As Common Dreams reported this week, Integrated Food Security Phase Classification has said that 85% of people in Gaza are now in Phase 5 of famine, defined at "an extreme deprivation of food."
New York Times columnist Megan Stack said she welcomed anyone who is "[waking] up" to the reality of man-made mass starvation made possible by U.S. support, but called it "an absolute indictment of the center-left, such as it is, that it took pictures of dying, skeletal babies with trash bags for diapers to muster this pale response."
"Subtext: We can stomach mass bombings, but starvation is a bridge too far," said Stack.
The comments from Clinton coincided with a shift in the corporate media's coverage of Gaza, with major outlets focusing heavily on the impact of starvation.
Organizer and attorney Aaron Regunberg said that instead of simply doing "reputational damage control by speaking up in these very last moments," powerful political leaders must "shut shit down."
"You want history books to not record you as an evil genocide supporter?" said Regunberg. "One speech now—after countless speeches condemning those who have been speaking out—ain't gonna cut it... You need to go to Gaza. You need to actually make an impact, NOW."
Progressive organizer Lindsey Boylan wondered whether establishment leaders "will ever admit that smearing all protests to stop the genocide actually contributed to the genocide."
"Few people could have played a more pivotal role in shaping the democratic response to prevent genocide," said Boylan of Clinton's comments. "Now here we are. Watching mass death of kids."
On Friday, U.S. Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.), who has consistently demanded that the Biden and Trump administrations stop funding Israel's assault on Gaza and warned of the impact mass starvation would have, issued his latest call for U.S. support to end immediately.
"American taxpayer dollars are being used to starve children, bomb civilians, and support the cruelty of [Prime Minister Benjamin] Netanyahu and his criminal ministers," said Sanders. "Enough is enough. The White House and Congress must immediately act to end this war using the full scope of American influence. No more military aid to the Netanyahu government. History will condemn those who fail to act in the face of this horror."