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Date: Fri, 4 May 2012
From: Dmitri Glinski "dmitriglinski@yahoo.com"
Subject: RUSSIAN-SPEAKING AMERICANS IN FLUX: WHAT CHANGES DO WE SEEK?

Dmitri Daniel Glinski is ARA co-founder and executive director.

You will not find this news in mainstream media, yet in recent months something quite unprecedented occurred in dozens of cities across the Western world: Russian immigrants, as well as expats on temporary visas, went out to demonstrate ­ from New York to Paris to Tel Aviv, and even as far away as Tokyo and Sydney. They rallied in solidarity with Russia's domestic protests against vote-rigging by Vladimir Putin and his party in parliamentary and presidential elections. Street actions took place on December 10 and 24, February 4, 19, and 26, March 4 and 10, and April 8 (on the 40th anniversary of Sergei Magnitsky, the Russian whistleblower who was persecuted by the authorities and died In jail after being denied treatment). The next such rally is planned for May 6, the eve of Mr. Putin's inauguration. The demonstrators in the capital of the Russian diaspora ­ New York ­ represent the widest range of ages and experiences in the community, and the speakers they listen to range from Dr. Alexander Bolonkin, a Soviet-era political prisoner and retired NASA researcher, to Pavel Khodorkovsky, the son of Russia's most famous political prisoner today.

While American press almost completely ignored these rallies, all the major Russian media covered them, at times in considerable detail. And the ripple effects of this "December movement" include the emergence of new community organizations, such as American Russian-Speaking Association for Civil & Human Rights (ARA), that currently has members or affiliates in 21 US states.

These first-ever Russian rallies across America and subsequent organizing signaled a break with the conventional wisdom, and a pattern of behavior characteristic of the previous generation of immigrants: namely, that the old country is ultimately beyond repair or at best irrelevant to immigrant life in America. And that the newly arrived should move on from their memories about it to be able to focus on the future and on their success in their new homeland. This pattern evidently does not work any longer: for many in the community, the situation in their native country does indeed matter. And for others, the underlying message is not only about the injustice and oppression in the country they left, but also about the obstacles and preconceived notions of Russians that they have faced in their integration in Western societies. They see internal change in Russia as a necessary step for more talented Russians to be able to advance in the global economy and public arena.

There is more than one reason for this change of behavior. First of all, the character of the Russian emigration has changed. The previous generation ­ the big "Fourth Wave" that immediately followed the easing of restrictions on exit from Soviet Union under Mikhail Gorbachev ­ was fleeing primarily from the worsening economic conditions and the rising tide of anti-Semitism in the late 1980s. These were the people who had made a clear choice in favor of the Western economic system, who often struggled for years to obtain exit visas or waited for such an opportunity, and who were eager to leave Russia behind, unimpressed by the possibilities of its internal transformation. In contrast, over one million people who left Russia over the past decade or so were not seeking escape from economic hardship or ethnic tensions: under Putin, Russians' living standards were overall improving; radical nationalists, as well as all other opposition, were tamed; and the economic structure has become, with few significant differences, aligned with other Western economies. What was different was the lack of political choice and of opportunities for self-expression in the public arena. And even financially successful Russians were looking for an escape from the oppressive psychological and moral climate of a country ruled by an alliance of government bureaucracy with organized crime. As the continuous marginalization of political opponents by the regime left virtually no room for any public career outside of the Kremlin's orbit, talented Russians felt suffocated by the lack of a sufficiently open public space where their visions of a better society and leadership ambitions could be put to play. Thus, this most recent emigration from Russia is driven more by politics and cultural resentment of the Putin regime rather than by economic need or ethnic tension.

Further, these latest Russian immigrants in America encounter a virtually nonexistent public space in the Russian-speaking community for their non-commercial careers and activities - at least compared to many other immigrant ethnic groups. This is a significant obstacle to their successful integration in American society. In contrast to Hispanic, Asian, Jewish, Arab and many other communities, Russian-speakers have virtually no nonprofit organizations in America that would provide advocacy services to the community on matters of its socio-economic and political interest, counteract significant anti-Russian prejudice in the media, labor market, and workplace, and employ at least a few of the community's mass of highly skilled immigrants with nonprofit backgrounds, helping them to move into the public arena. Existing nonprofit organizations in the community are either focused on Russian arts and culture, or, those that are part of the Jewish community, on Israel security and public image and to a lesser extent on social services. While all of these are very noble and worthwhile causes in and of themselves, important for many Russian-speaking immigrants, they are no substitute for addressing the issue of Russian-speakers' representation in the public arena or the serious socio-economic problems of the community (as noted in a proposed congressional legislation on the need to negotiate the payment of pensions to former Soviet employees by their native states, in 2009 37 percent of immigrants from the former USSR were not in the labor force ­ not part-timers, not freelancers, but without any work at all). And it leaves a glaring gap in the place of organizations that would help advance Russian-speaking Americans in public affairs, as citizens of their new homeland proudly conscious of their origin and rightly concerned with the state of affairs in their native country. There is no nationwide organization of Russian-speakers that would be even remotely comparable to such nonprofit agencies serving other immigrant communities as the National Council of La Raza. And Russian-speakers are also severely underrepresented in nonprofit leadership roles outside of their community and in the government service at all levels, including New York City and State, where their vital interests are particularly affected. As a result, the community, while being the eighth-largest immigrant group by language in the country and third-largest in New York, is barely visible in the public arena, and its concerns and opinions are easily dismissed (as, for example, in the case of the recent redistricting in South Brooklyn).

In light of these observations, there is increased effort in the community to move it to a higher stage in its internal organizing, so that it is able to address the needs of its latest wave of immigrants, along with many more who are likely to come during Mr. Putin's third presidential term. The starting point of this organizing is the awareness that existing nonprofit organizations have failed to address these needs. In lieu of localized organizations of the previous generation that are mostly based in Brooklyn (where Russian-speaking population has been shrinking, while it is growing in Manhattan) and serving the rapidly fading immigration wave of 1989, the Russian-speaking community needs a nationwide organization, both to reflect the much wider spread of Russian-speaking population, beyond major metropolitan areas, and also to augment its status and prestige. And while Russian-speakers have every reason to be proud of their close and beneficial special relationship with the American Jewish community, given that about a half or more of Russian-speakers in America are Jewish, and that Russian Jews constitute the largest ethnic minority, of some 20 percent, within the American Jewish population, they also need to reduce their dependency on it. This is particularly true since the Jewish nonprofit sector has itself been shrinking due to a number of factors and is unable to respond to the growing needs of the Russian-speaking population, including Russian Jews. And those agencies that were designed for these purposes ten or more years ago, are simply insufficient or not able to reflect the new realities (besides, some of them are at times overplaying their hand in trying to define the agenda and the organizational life of the Russian-speaking community, which also breeds resentment).

The much more central issue, however, is the Russian-speaking community's strategy with regard to developments in Russia. The appeal of the anti-Putin opposition in the diaspora was manifested not only by the strength of the rallies, but also by election results among Russian voters overseas: both Putin's candidacy for president and his party slate in the Duma elections failed miserably with Russian citizens in all Western countries. There is widespread support in the community for the currently pending legislation to replace the Cold War-era Jackson-Vanick Amendment that restricted US-Russian trade with the so-called Magnitsky legislation, imposing visa and financial sanctions upon those Russian government officials who have been involved in human rights abuse. Russian opposition supporters at home and abroad hope that these sanctions might help produce what the mass rallies could not ­ namely, the release of over 30 people recognized by Russian human rights organizations as political prisoners (their names were recently submitted for a presidential pardon by Russia's official, government-affiliated Human Rights Council, yet the outgoing President Dmitry Medvedev refused to pardon those who didn't submit an official request). The Magnitsky legislation, initiated by Sen. Benjamin Cardin (D-MD) and initially opposed by the State Department, received a major boost in the past three months due to intense advocacy by human rights organizations and leaders both in Russia and in the Russian-speaking American community, particularly the Democratic Russia Committee and other members of our own coalition. As of today, S. 1039 - Sergei Magnitsky Rule of Law Accountability Act of 2011 ­ has 32 co-sponsors in the Senate, and H.R. 4405 ­ the analogous bill recently reintroduced in the House ­ has 16 co-sponsors. This may not look like a done deal yet, but recent comments from the State Department indicate that within the Administration the tide has turned in favor of the bill ­ an encouraging signal for its supporters in the Russian-speaking community.

There are also other community concerns that need new organizing efforts to be addressed. Thus, for example, many elderly Russian émigrés, who, like almost all other Soviet citizens, were government employees in their home country, are precluded from receiving pensions from Russia, because in Soviet times they were deprived of their Soviet citizenship at the moment of leaving the country. Most of them subsist on SSI payments, and while many would like to be able to claim their hard-earned pensions, they fear that even by raising this issue at the government level they risk losing their SSI and ending worse off than they were. And we are talking of the people to many of whom American society and government should be grateful for their role in the peaceful end of the Cold War, because by voting with their feet against the Soviet system, they speeded up its early demise. That these people ­ many of whom had distinguished careers as scholars and some as public figures ­ live in such poverty and fear is a shame and needs to be addressed one way or another.

And there is an unmet need for education ­ and self-education of the community ­ about the brighter parts of the Russian history, such as, first and foremost, its indomitable tradition and culture of human and civil rights struggle. This history is often conveniently forgotten, both by the Russian government that benefits from the emphasis upon a history of obedience and isolation from the West, and by those who may take advantage of misconceptions and lack of knowledge of Russia's complex history and culture to question Russians' legitimate place in global markets and global civil society.

In sum, the work is cut out for an independent, grassroots organization that would unite Russian-speaking Americans around the values of human and civil rights, liberties, and justice, while also weaving a wider tapestry of intra- and inter-communal conversations around it. This is the sort of organizing that is envisioned by the creators of the American Russian-Speaking Association for Civil & Human Rights (as well as its coalition partners, including Institute for Modern Russia, The Democratic Russia Committee, Russian-Speaking Community Council of Manhattan & the Bronx, International Association of Former Soviet Political Prisoners and Victims of Communist Regime, The General Petro Grigorenko Foundation, and other organizations). These issues will be discussed at the ARA first national convention that will take place, with the participation of our partner organizations, on May 6 in downtown Manhattan.

Keywords: U.S.-Russian Relations - Russia, Government, Politics - Russia, Human Rights - Russia

 

Date: Fri, 4 May 2012
From: Dmitri Glinski "dmitriglinski@yahoo.com"
Subject: RUSSIAN-SPEAKING AMERICANS IN FLUX: WHAT CHANGES DO WE SEEK?

Dmitri Daniel Glinski is ARA co-founder and executive director.

You will not find this news in mainstream media, yet in recent months something quite unprecedented occurred in dozens of cities across the Western world: Russian immigrants, as well as expats on temporary visas, went out to demonstrate ­ from New York to Paris to Tel Aviv, and even as far away as Tokyo and Sydney. They rallied in solidarity with Russia's domestic protests against vote-rigging by Vladimir Putin and his party in parliamentary and presidential elections. Street actions took place on December 10 and 24, February 4, 19, and 26, March 4 and 10, and April 8 (on the 40th anniversary of Sergei Magnitsky, the Russian whistleblower who was persecuted by the authorities and died In jail after being denied treatment). The next such rally is planned for May 6, the eve of Mr. Putin's inauguration. The demonstrators in the capital of the Russian diaspora ­ New York ­ represent the widest range of ages and experiences in the community, and the speakers they listen to range from Dr. Alexander Bolonkin, a Soviet-era political prisoner and retired NASA researcher, to Pavel Khodorkovsky, the son of Russia's most famous political prisoner today.

While American press almost completely ignored these rallies, all the major Russian media covered them, at times in considerable detail. And the ripple effects of this "December movement" include the emergence of new community organizations, such as American Russian-Speaking Association for Civil & Human Rights (ARA), that currently has members or affiliates in 21 US states.

These first-ever Russian rallies across America and subsequent organizing signaled a break with the conventional wisdom, and a pattern of behavior characteristic of the previous generation of immigrants: namely, that the old country is ultimately beyond repair or at best irrelevant to immigrant life in America. And that the newly arrived should move on from their memories about it to be able to focus on the future and on their success in their new homeland. This pattern evidently does not work any longer: for many in the community, the situation in their native country does indeed matter. And for others, the underlying message is not only about the injustice and oppression in the country they left, but also about the obstacles and preconceived notions of Russians that they have faced in their integration in Western societies. They see internal change in Russia as a necessary step for more talented Russians to be able to advance in the global economy and public arena.

There is more than one reason for this change of behavior. First of all, the character of the Russian emigration has changed. The previous generation ­ the big "Fourth Wave" that immediately followed the easing of restrictions on exit from Soviet Union under Mikhail Gorbachev ­ was fleeing primarily from the worsening economic conditions and the rising tide of anti-Semitism in the late 1980s. These were the people who had made a clear choice in favor of the Western economic system, who often struggled for years to obtain exit visas or waited for such an opportunity, and who were eager to leave Russia behind, unimpressed by the possibilities of its internal transformation. In contrast, over one million people who left Russia over the past decade or so were not seeking escape from economic hardship or ethnic tensions: under Putin, Russians' living standards were overall improving; radical nationalists, as well as all other opposition, were tamed; and the economic structure has become, with few significant differences, aligned with other Western economies. What was different was the lack of political choice and of opportunities for self-expression in the public arena. And even financially successful Russians were looking for an escape from the oppressive psychological and moral climate of a country ruled by an alliance of government bureaucracy with organized crime. As the continuous marginalization of political opponents by the regime left virtually no room for any public career outside of the Kremlin's orbit, talented Russians felt suffocated by the lack of a sufficiently open public space where their visions of a better society and leadership ambitions could be put to play. Thus, this most recent emigration from Russia is driven more by politics and cultural resentment of the Putin regime rather than by economic need or ethnic tension.

Further, these latest Russian immigrants in America encounter a virtually nonexistent public space in the Russian-speaking community for their non-commercial careers and activities - at least compared to many other immigrant ethnic groups. This is a significant obstacle to their successful integration in American society. In contrast to Hispanic, Asian, Jewish, Arab and many other communities, Russian-speakers have virtually no nonprofit organizations in America that would provide advocacy services to the community on matters of its socio-economic and political interest, counteract significant anti-Russian prejudice in the media, labor market, and workplace, and employ at least a few of the community's mass of highly skilled immigrants with nonprofit backgrounds, helping them to move into the public arena. Existing nonprofit organizations in the community are either focused on Russian arts and culture, or, those that are part of the Jewish community, on Israel security and public image and to a lesser extent on social services. While all of these are very noble and worthwhile causes in and of themselves, important for many Russian-speaking immigrants, they are no substitute for addressing the issue of Russian-speakers' representation in the public arena or the serious socio-economic problems of the community (as noted in a proposed congressional legislation on the need to negotiate the payment of pensions to former Soviet employees by their native states, in 2009 37 percent of immigrants from the former USSR were not in the labor force ­ not part-timers, not freelancers, but without any work at all). And it leaves a glaring gap in the place of organizations that would help advance Russian-speaking Americans in public affairs, as citizens of their new homeland proudly conscious of their origin and rightly concerned with the state of affairs in their native country. There is no nationwide organization of Russian-speakers that would be even remotely comparable to such nonprofit agencies serving other immigrant communities as the National Council of La Raza. And Russian-speakers are also severely underrepresented in nonprofit leadership roles outside of their community and in the government service at all levels, including New York City and State, where their vital interests are particularly affected. As a result, the community, while being the eighth-largest immigrant group by language in the country and third-largest in New York, is barely visible in the public arena, and its concerns and opinions are easily dismissed (as, for example, in the case of the recent redistricting in South Brooklyn).

In light of these observations, there is increased effort in the community to move it to a higher stage in its internal organizing, so that it is able to address the needs of its latest wave of immigrants, along with many more who are likely to come during Mr. Putin's third presidential term. The starting point of this organizing is the awareness that existing nonprofit organizations have failed to address these needs. In lieu of localized organizations of the previous generation that are mostly based in Brooklyn (where Russian-speaking population has been shrinking, while it is growing in Manhattan) and serving the rapidly fading immigration wave of 1989, the Russian-speaking community needs a nationwide organization, both to reflect the much wider spread of Russian-speaking population, beyond major metropolitan areas, and also to augment its status and prestige. And while Russian-speakers have every reason to be proud of their close and beneficial special relationship with the American Jewish community, given that about a half or more of Russian-speakers in America are Jewish, and that Russian Jews constitute the largest ethnic minority, of some 20 percent, within the American Jewish population, they also need to reduce their dependency on it. This is particularly true since the Jewish nonprofit sector has itself been shrinking due to a number of factors and is unable to respond to the growing needs of the Russian-speaking population, including Russian Jews. And those agencies that were designed for these purposes ten or more years ago, are simply insufficient or not able to reflect the new realities (besides, some of them are at times overplaying their hand in trying to define the agenda and the organizational life of the Russian-speaking community, which also breeds resentment).

The much more central issue, however, is the Russian-speaking community's strategy with regard to developments in Russia. The appeal of the anti-Putin opposition in the diaspora was manifested not only by the strength of the rallies, but also by election results among Russian voters overseas: both Putin's candidacy for president and his party slate in the Duma elections failed miserably with Russian citizens in all Western countries. There is widespread support in the community for the currently pending legislation to replace the Cold War-era Jackson-Vanick Amendment that restricted US-Russian trade with the so-called Magnitsky legislation, imposing visa and financial sanctions upon those Russian government officials who have been involved in human rights abuse. Russian opposition supporters at home and abroad hope that these sanctions might help produce what the mass rallies could not ­ namely, the release of over 30 people recognized by Russian human rights organizations as political prisoners (their names were recently submitted for a presidential pardon by Russia's official, government-affiliated Human Rights Council, yet the outgoing President Dmitry Medvedev refused to pardon those who didn't submit an official request). The Magnitsky legislation, initiated by Sen. Benjamin Cardin (D-MD) and initially opposed by the State Department, received a major boost in the past three months due to intense advocacy by human rights organizations and leaders both in Russia and in the Russian-speaking American community, particularly the Democratic Russia Committee and other members of our own coalition. As of today, S. 1039 - Sergei Magnitsky Rule of Law Accountability Act of 2011 ­ has 32 co-sponsors in the Senate, and H.R. 4405 ­ the analogous bill recently reintroduced in the House ­ has 16 co-sponsors. This may not look like a done deal yet, but recent comments from the State Department indicate that within the Administration the tide has turned in favor of the bill ­ an encouraging signal for its supporters in the Russian-speaking community.

There are also other community concerns that need new organizing efforts to be addressed. Thus, for example, many elderly Russian émigrés, who, like almost all other Soviet citizens, were government employees in their home country, are precluded from receiving pensions from Russia, because in Soviet times they were deprived of their Soviet citizenship at the moment of leaving the country. Most of them subsist on SSI payments, and while many would like to be able to claim their hard-earned pensions, they fear that even by raising this issue at the government level they risk losing their SSI and ending worse off than they were. And we are talking of the people to many of whom American society and government should be grateful for their role in the peaceful end of the Cold War, because by voting with their feet against the Soviet system, they speeded up its early demise. That these people ­ many of whom had distinguished careers as scholars and some as public figures ­ live in such poverty and fear is a shame and needs to be addressed one way or another.

And there is an unmet need for education ­ and self-education of the community ­ about the brighter parts of the Russian history, such as, first and foremost, its indomitable tradition and culture of human and civil rights struggle. This history is often conveniently forgotten, both by the Russian government that benefits from the emphasis upon a history of obedience and isolation from the West, and by those who may take advantage of misconceptions and lack of knowledge of Russia's complex history and culture to question Russians' legitimate place in global markets and global civil society.

In sum, the work is cut out for an independent, grassroots organization that would unite Russian-speaking Americans around the values of human and civil rights, liberties, and justice, while also weaving a wider tapestry of intra- and inter-communal conversations around it. This is the sort of organizing that is envisioned by the creators of the American Russian-Speaking Association for Civil & Human Rights (as well as its coalition partners, including Institute for Modern Russia, The Democratic Russia Committee, Russian-Speaking Community Council of Manhattan & the Bronx, International Association of Former Soviet Political Prisoners and Victims of Communist Regime, The General Petro Grigorenko Foundation, and other organizations). These issues will be discussed at the ARA first national convention that will take place, with the participation of our partner organizations, on May 6 in downtown Manhattan.

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