Protest dynamics in Russia. Local triggers — systemic processes

Urban protest around solidarity with street musicians and the Kremlin’s zugzwang

Since 2022, music censorship in Russia has shifted from selective repressive measures to a system of total  control over the cultural sphere. Initially, state pressure was limited to concert cancellations and “stop lists”  targeting artists who opposed the war, but by 2025 it has expanded to cover the entire music industry — from streaming platforms to street performances. By 2024, 79 artists, including Noize MC, Monetochka,  Zemfira, and Oxxxymiron, had been blacklisted. At the same time, censorship mechanisms have widened:  labeling artists as “foreign agents,” banning songs as “extremist materials,” and removing tracks from  streaming platforms at the request of Roskomnadzor. Since January 2022, Yandex.Music alone has deleted  more than 14,000 pieces of content. Increasingly, the authorities invoke vague formulations such as  “promotion of drug use” or “immoral lifestyles,” extending censorship to youth subcultures and  nonconformist themes. These measures serve not only to suppress dissent but also to fulfill an internal  mobilization function — constructing the image of the “enemy” in the form of free culture while contrasting  it with a “patriotic” audience. In this way, the Kremlin uses censorship not only as a tool of control but also  as a means of political consolidation. Coordination of this policy falls under the Presidential  Administration’s Department for Public Projects.  The arrest of 18-year-old Diana Loginova, the lead singer of the St. Petersburg street band Stoptime, marks  a new stage in cultural repression. She was detained for performing anti-war songs by Monetochka and  Noize MC, charged with “discrediting the army,” and sentenced to 13 days of administrative arrest. Before  that, her group regularly performed in central locations — near Ploshchad Vosstaniya metro station and on  Nevsky Prospekt — drawing dozens of listeners. For many, these performances had become a rare and  relatively safe way to express an anti-war stance. Similar incidents have already occurred: in Moscow,  singer Anna Leonenko was detained, while in Sevastopol, authorities banned street musicians from  performing songs by “foreign agents.” This indicates that pressure on independent performers has become  part of state policy, extending even to spontaneous street art. 

However, the repression has triggered an unprecedented wave of solidarity across the country — the largest  in recent years. In Yekaterinburg, Krasnodar, Saratov, Voronezh, Novosibirsk, Perm, Moscow, St.  Petersburg, and Stavropol, people have organized concerts, flash mobs, solo pickets, and street  performances of banned songs.   Participants performed in squares, near metro stations, and in pedestrian areas, distributed flyers with  slogans like “Singing is not a crime” and “Free Naoko,” and posted videos on social media. On TikTok  alone, more than 5,000 videos have been published under the hashtag #СвободуНаоко (#FreeNaoko),  indicating high levels of audience engagement. The actions took multiple forms — from live performances  by street musicians and anti-war concerts to peaceful pickets and improvised shows in residential  neighborhoods. This reaction demonstrates that increased censorship provokes resistance.   In this context, intensified state pressure becomes a risk factor: harsh measures may only broaden the  circle of protesters, while any retreat from repression is likely to be perceived as a sign of weakness.  Thus, the campaign against street musicians illustrates how the Kremlin’s attempts to mobilize a loyal  audience through its crusade against youth culture have produced the opposite effect — a surge of civic  discontent and the emergence of new forms of solidarity.

Municipal reform and protests against constitutional amendments

Protests in the Republic of Altai against municipal reform have become one of the most visible  manifestations of regional resistance to the centralization of power. The reform, which abolishes the two tier system of local self-government and strengthens the authority of governors, is perceived by residents  as an attempt by Moscow to establish full control over the region’s land and administration. On June 21,  between 2,500 and 4,000 people took to the streets of Gorno-Altaysk — about 4–6% of the city’s  population (68,000) and up to 2% of the entire republic’s population (210,000). For a region with little  history of mass mobilization, this protest is unprecedented. Participants demand the repeal of the reform  and the resignation of the Moscow-appointed governor, Andrey Turchak. Despite government pressure, the protests continue. On October 23, an activist from Altai staged a solo  picket outside the Investigative Committee building in Moscow with a sign reading, “Aruna Arna  defended the lands of Altai from the oligarchs — and ended up in jail for it?” Arna, a human rights  defender and mother of several children, participated in protests against the reform and became one of  its leaders and symbols. Her arrest on charges of “inciting terrorism” sparks a new wave of  demonstrations and solidarity campaigns. The same day, Altai activists deliver thousands of signatures to  the Presidential Administration demanding that the constitutional amendments in the republic be  repealed and Turchak removed from office. Despite repression, the protest evolves into a sustained civic  movement. The Republic of Altai has become one of the focal points of internal political tension, where  the conflict between national authorities and local communities is taking on a protracted character. In the Republic of Sakha (Yakutia), similar dynamics emerge during the discussion of constitutional  amendments proposed by regional head Aysen Nikolaev. The amendments strip citizens of several social  guarantees, reduce municipal authority, and further strengthen the power of the regional head. On October  10, dozens of residents attended the public hearings, filling both parliamentary chambers, but most were  denied the opportunity to speak: the format was deliberately structured to exclude open criticism.   The amendments were passed in all three readings, despite opposition from deputies of the nominally  Kremlin-loyal Communist Party (CPRF) and New People Party, which sometimes allows limited criticism  of the government. On October 15, a war veteran and participant in the conflict in Ukraine, Mikhail  Koryakin, posted a video calling for a rally against the amendments, but by October 18, he was arrested  for ten days for “organizing an unauthorized public event.” The Yakut protest continues, illustrating  growing discontent with centralization and the erosion of civil rights even in traditionally loyal regions.  

Protest against the increase of the recycling fee 

The government’s decision to raise the recycling fee on cars has become one of the most contentious  economic issues of autumn 2025. The Ministry of Industry and Trade’s decision to recalculate the fee based  on engine power triggers widespread discontent, particularly in the Far East, where private transportation  remains essential for daily life. For residents of the region, the new system is perceived as an additional  “tax on survival.” On October 11, Vladivostok saw its first officially authorized protest in several years — an event that is, in itself, rare in contemporary Russia. According to various media estimates, more than 500 people gathered outside the House of Youth. Protesters held signs reading “They get Mercedes,  we get Zhiguli,” “Roads first, then fees,” “A car is a necessity, not a luxury,” and “We have recycling fees,  but where are the factories?” Participants collected signatures for an appeal to Prime Minister Mikhail  Mishustin demanding that the reform be repealed.  The rally proceeds peacefully but becomes a landmark event. In Primorye, the automobile sector employs  thousands of people, and the import of used Japanese and Korean cars forms the backbone of the local  economy. “We all know that no one is actually recycling anything. This is just daylight robbery of those  who still have something left,” says former deputy Gennady Shulga. As Ilya Grashchenkov, president of  the Center for Regional Policy, notes, “The Far East is used to managing its own affairs, and the ability to  buy used Japanese cars is part of the region’s identity.” 

In response to the protest, First Deputy Prime Minister Denis Manturov instructs the Ministry of Industry  and Trade to postpone the introduction of the new fee rates from November 1 to December 1. However,  the measure itself is not withdrawn — the additional revenues are already built into the federal budget for  2026. As a result, the government merely buys time. The recycling fee increase, conceived as a budgetary  measure, becomes a catalyst for open public dissent. The protest in Vladivostok demonstrates that even  under a climate of fear, the potential for self-organization persists, and that economic grievances quickly  transform into political ones.