How the Kremlin benefits from Boris Nemtsov’s death

It is hard to write about Boris Nemtsov’s assassination in analytical terms. Even though Nemtsov held a PhD in physics, he was quintessentially a man who kept things simple. He always preferred freedom to dictatorship, peace to war, integrity to corruption, dignity to shame, and truth to lies. Moreover, he was confident that these simple ideals would eventually prevail in Russia — as they have in other countries. He understood, however, that this change would not come on its own and would require the courage and effort of people like himself.

This is why he continued his crusade. And this is why his murder on the Bolshoi Moskvoretsky bridge leading to Saint Basil’s Cathedral and Red Square tells us so much about today’s Russia.

Nemtsov, a major opposition politician, was killed because of his speeches against Russian President Vladimir Putin, his anti-corruption investigations and his key role in Russia’s opposition politics.

To speak of this barbaric act as having taken place independently of the Kremlin would be to ignore the murder’s setting. Red Square is always guarded by scores of uniformed and plainclothes officers. Traffic police maintain permanent posts on either side of the bridge, which connects to an area of Moscow where traffic is particularly dense. The area is closely monitored and, just two days before a major protest rally that Nemtsov co-organised, it seems certain that he was also under government surveillance.

Whoever they were, the killers must have assumed that police would not try to pursue them. If these were common murderers they would probably have chosen another venue, such as Nemtsov’s home, where he was heading at the time of the shooting. The way he was killed suggests that certain people high up in the regime were directly involved in his murder.

Mr Putin’s spokesperson insisted that the regime had no interest in killing Nemtsov as his popularity was too low compared to that of the president. This is misleading.

First, Mr Putin’s popularity remains so high because of the degree of censorship, propaganda and electoral fraud found in Russia. There is no doubt that Nemtsov would top Mr Putin in a direct debate. Not surprisingly, such debates have never happened — Mr Putin does not participate in debates with the opposition. Moreover, as Russia’s economy enters a recession, the Russian government has further tightened the screws on the media and opposition groups. It is not surprising: an economic downturn generates pressure for more intense propaganda and deeper political repression. Dictatorial regimes know they can survive only as long as a majority of the public are convinced the ruler is better than the alternative. This is why it is crucial to silence the opposition one way or the other — especially if the economic crisis hints at the regime’s failure.

And this is where the second inconsistency in the Kremlin’s argument comes. Nemtsov was not only too outspoken and too effective in his criticisms — he provided a unique bridge between the old and the new waves of Russia’s pro-western politicians. He won gubernatorial and parliamentary elections, and combined the credibility of a high-ranking politician (he was a former deputy prime minister) with the unprecedented candour of a critic of Mr Putin. Nemtsov created a coalition movement with young Russian politicians and helped to bring up new opposition leaders.

Due to his past electoral success, his party was also the only truly anti-regime group that was to be legally allowed to take part in the 2016 parliamentary elections. Nemtsov’s participation in the elections would naturally have become a platform for bringing together diverse anti-Putin and pro-western opposition forces. The murder of Nemtsov has helped to solve this potential problem for the Kremlin.

Nemtsov’s killers have burnt the regime’s last bridges with its liberal opponents. It would be appropriate, when a new regime arrives, for the site of his murder to be renamed the Nemtsov Bridge.

The writer, a former rector of the New Economic School in Moscow, is professor of economics at Sciences Po in Paris