The most stubborn manifestation of civic consciousness imaginable is participation in the public politics of an autocratic country. Almost everyone will agree that there are many risks in this activity, including personal ones, and very little benefit. But in Russia there are optimists who do not give up.

There are two ways of nonviolent resistance to power. The first is called “civil disobedience,” and I would like to call the second “civil obedience,” even if this is not the most straightforward choice: “obedience” does not fit well with protest. “Civil obedience to laws, rulers, and institutions is merely an outward manifestation of support and consent,” writes, for example, Hannah Arendt in her essay “On Violence.” I would like to disagree with her.

You don't have to be an anarchist to at least sometimes experience difficulties in enforcing the laws. The laws are numerous, confusing, and written by people from all corners of the political spectrum. People who set rules do or do not deserve respect; new authorities from time to time completely abandon political succession. Most of our fellow citizens feel confused when thinking about this.

Maxim Trudolyubov reflects on two Russian readings of the word “citizen,” neither of which implies a direct, constitutional interpretation For every Russian debate about citizenship and politics, the subtext is verses from “The Poet and the Citizen” by Nekrasov: “There are good hearts to which the homeland is holy. God help them!.. and the rest? Their goal is shallow, their life is empty. Some are money-grubbers and thieves, others are sweet singers, and still others...