Navalny's courage holds lesson for Canadians
“If you are killed — if this does happen — what message do you leave behind for the Russian people?”
This is the opening line of last year's Oscar-winning documentary Navalny, a film that grips you from its opening and doesn't let you go.
In an era of mindless TV, where nightly news has been supplanted by a vapid race to the bottom, Navalny is the reality check we all need.
Watching it in the immediate aftermath of Russian dissident Alexei Navalny's death is both disconcerting and deeply saddening. Disconcerting because, in the film, Navalny is so very much alive. His eyes, a piercing blue, flash with determination, mischief and, at times, melancholy. But — amazingly given his circumstances — never fear.
In one of the documentary's most memorable scenes, he gleefully prank calls a Russian operative involved in a plot to poison him, and elicits a full confession over the phone. In this case, truth is stranger than fiction.
You can't help feel that you're sitting in on the intimate moments of a man living on borrowed time. Knowing what we do now, it's hard to watch. You want to change the narrative, rewrite the outcome.
As a viewer, you want him to remain safe in exile, taking walks with his wife in the German countryside, feeding carrots to ponies, and recording social media videos eviscerating the stupidity of his would-be murderers. Selfishly, we want a feel-good, happy ending.
But the aim of this film, is, in part, to show what is required of those who wish to overthrow authoritarianism in their home countries.
Navalny, above all, loved Russia.
When you live in a country like Canada, you can afford to love your country in a casual, even thoughtless way. With the exception of those who've donned a uniform and served, for most of us our love of country is born from privilege.
That doesn't mean we aren't patriots, but in many ways, our love is soft, untested. It's platitudes and flag-waving. A barbecue on Canada Day isn't a hardship.
For those who live in countries rife with corruption and run by despots, love of country has to be active, engaged and fierce.
Imagine the love of a mother defending her threatened child. That love isn't born of reason or self-interest. It's a self-sacrificing love, and it's one that any parent can relate to.
It's much harder for many of us to put ourselves in the shoes of someone who is willing to die — with dignity and courage — for the hope of a better future. When you live in a place where a change of government requires nothing more than the stroke of a pencil, laying down your life for democracy is an abstract concept.
Navalny's message, should he die, was simple. But far from easy. He said to his countrymen, “You aren't allowed to give up.”
Watching this film is reminder of our great good fortune in Canada, and of our collective responsibility to the people who don't share it.
It's hard to know where to begin. Watching Navalny is a good place to start.