The Russian nuclear submarine tragedy has shocked the world, but it has only reinforced what the country’s most prominent environmentalist, Alexandr Nikitin, has been saying for years. A former submarine captain himself, Nikitin made international headlines in 1996 by blowing the whistle on the Russian Navy’s ecologically disastrous mishandling of submarines. Now the government wants to re-prosecute Nikitin for his whistleblowing, on the bizarre grounds that it violated his civil rights the first time it tried to convict him. But the government’s strategy may backfire: Its persecution of Nikitin and its dismantling of environmental laws appear to be sparking a resurgence of green activism in Russia.
When the Kursk sank on August 12, killing all 118 crew members, Russians were saddened and outraged–not just by the deaths and the government’s ham-handed response but by the tragedy’s deeper symbolism: Russia seemed to be falling apart. “There’s no money to take care of anything…[so] the accidents just keep on happening,” Sergei Titkov, a Moscow security guard, said after the Ostankino television tower caught fire August 27 in a further illustration of the nation’s technological frailty. Just as an apparent lack of training and maintenance doomed the Kursk, so does inadequate repair and upkeep plague Russia’s entire industrial infrastructure. Thus the Kursk tragedy may turn out to be but the tip of the proverbial iceberg. The cash-strapped military has abandoned some 110 additional mothballed nuclear submarines on land and sea without proper environmental or security safeguards, according to Nikitin. Likewise, countless factories, pipelines and other increasingly decrepit civilian facilities pose a growing risk to human life and natural ecosystems, both in Russia and beyond.
When Nikitin co-wrote a 1996 report revealing that the Northern Fleet had been dumping old reactors and spent fuel into the Barents Sea and on the Kola Peninsula for decades, he called the contamination “a Chernobyl in slow motion.” The Federal Security Police (FSB), Russia’s recast KGB, promptly threw him in jail. In the first of many irregularities, he was charged with espionage on the basis of a law written months after he was imprisoned. Nikitin spent the next four years fighting for his freedom. Finally, last December, the City Court of St. Petersburg acquitted him of all charges and made a point of criticizing the FSB for improprieties in the case. In April the Supreme Court upheld the lower court’s ruling.
Nikitin soon left for California to accept the Goldman Environmental Prize, which he’d won in 1997 but hadn’t been allowed to leave Russia to accept. As he strode across the stage in Berkeley, Nikitin still looked the career military man, with close-cropped graying hair and a clipped, serious manner. But he did know how to tell a joke. After a heavily accented “Thank you very much,” Nikitin said, in Russian, “I would like to apologize that I was late for this ceremony exactly three years.” But no one was laughing a few days later when Russia’s Prosecutor General announced that the government of President Vladimir Putin wanted to retry Nikitin. Officials at the prosecutor’s office were unavailable for comment. But it’s clear that Russian media coverage has made Alexandr Nikitin a hero to many politically aware Russians–a successful symbol of dissent. His colleagues believe that the campaign against him is aimed at discouraging others from following his example.