“I have a dream.” Opposition politician Lev Shlosberg on good and evil in his final plea at the appeal hearing before his 11‑year prison sentence was upheld

Your Honours,

The human body consists of

ninety per cent water,

just as in Paganini, perhaps,

there is ninety per cent love.

Even if—by way of exception—

you are trampled underfoot by the crowd,

in the human calling there is

ninety per cent good.

Andrei Voznesensky, 1972.

From birth, the calling of every human being lies in love, in doing good, in helping others, in showing compassion to those who suffer, in defending the destitute, in improving life around us, in preserving dignity, and in forgiveness, repentance, and mercy. Eras succeed one another, yet the choice facing a person throughout their entire life remains essentially the same: between good and evil. Everyone encounters circumstances in life where choosing the good is difficult and frightening, whereas choosing evil is easy and simple. Temptations come to us of their own accord, while every step towards good demands personal effort—often requiring us to overcome our own weakness, our own fear, and our own temptations. Good is always wrought by human hands; it is the fruit of human labour—above all, spiritual labour. Both good and evil are the result of the daily personal choices made by millions of people. That is how not only individual lives, but the very history of humanity, are forged.

Every person knows the difference between good and evil. Everyone knows what it means to do good and to do bad. We have known this for at least the past two thousand years and more, ever since a Man entered the world who was executed for stirring up the people with His words, and who was recognised as God not only for the deeds of His life, but for His death upon the cross—which was transformed from an instrument of Roman torture into a symbol of rebirth and immortality. Why, then, does the history of mankind, including our modern history, consist of human acts that inspire shame and horror? A newborn child is utterly helpless. Every minute of their life, they require care and nurturing, without which they cannot survive. They need love and affection, sympathy and comfort, warmth, and help with every step. A newborn human being has no need of cruelty, malice, or hatred. All a newborn needs is love, warmth, and joy.

Perhaps those who grow up heartless simply lacked love? Perhaps through their cruelty and injustice they are taking revenge on the people they meet in life for the cruelty and injustice they themselves once endured? Is vengeance an instrument of justice? At what point does a small human being, in need of love and support, become a hard-hearted source of misery for others? When does a child who once wept at the slightest hurt become a brute, an executioner, and a monster? What must happen in a person’s life for them to become a source and a vessel of evil? Does a person who has become a vessel of evil take pleasure in inflicting evil through their own efforts? Does a person who has become a vessel of evil derive pleasure from watching the suffering of another human being whom they are tormenting and whose life they wish to ruin? Does a person who has become a vessel of evil realise that they have sold their soul to the devil, or do they believe themselves to be in the right and their deeds justified? Where does a person who has become a vessel of evil find the meaning of their life? In destroying the lives of others?

Consider the concept of humanity as such. Everyone knows the rules of moral decency and the rules of human coexistence. Abandoning a life lived by the rules of moral decency and probity degrades the personal dignity of the very individual who forsakes them. Why do people agree to demean themselves through their own actions? What drives them at that moment? In the life and fate of every person subjected to repression, dozens of individuals are present, acting, making decisions, and carrying out deeds without which repression would be impossible. Every single one of those people makes a choice: whether to remain human or to renounce what is human within themselves. Out of these personal choices and personal decisions, the fates of other people are shaped. To remain human, one does not need to perform heroic feats. It is enough not to create evil, not to be complicit in evil, and not to commit unnatural acts.

A person chooses not only the fate of the repressed victim, but their own fate as well. It is impossible to ruin another person’s life without ruining your own. If you bring misfortune upon another human being, you bring misfortune upon yourself. An individual makes a decision: to write a knowingly false denunciation, or not to write it. To give knowingly false testimony, or not to lie. To fabricate false evidence, or not to fabricate it. To provide a knowingly false expert assessment, or not to put one’s signature to a lie. To open a knowingly unlawful criminal case, or not to open it. To approve a knowingly unlawful indictment, or not to approve it. To demand a cruel punishment, or not to demand it. To hand down a knowingly unjust verdict, or not to hand it down. To carry out a knowingly unlawful order, or not to carry it out. To remain human, or to refuse to be one. To take a sin upon one’s soul, or not to take it. For it is not the one against whom the sin is directed who must live with it, but the one who committed the sin.

There is no such thing as collective guilt or collective responsibility. Guilt and responsibility can only ever be personal. Countless excuses are given for refusing to be human and to act as a human being ought to act. I was ordered to. I was forced to. I couldn’t say no. Everyone does it. That is untrue. Not everyone does. To remain human, one must refuse to commit antihuman acts. Every person has the ability to do so. Every individual decides for themselves what to let into their life—good or evil—and out of what material to fashion their own destiny. What happens to someone who lets evil into their life and becomes an instrument of evil? Why does a person need this? What do they hope to achieve alongside evil? Does anyone truly believe that the world can be made a better place by means of evil?

Often, in order to remain human, one simply needs to stand one’s ground. To stand firm and go nowhere. Not to surrender one’s place, lest that place be occupied by evil. Can you imagine what would happen if millions of people stood calmly and firmly in the places of good? Politicians, judges, prosecutors, investigators, experts. If everyone stands in the place of good, there is no room left for evil. A nursery teacher brings goodness. A schoolteacher teaches goodness and how to speak the truth. A legislator passes laws that safeguard human rights and liberties. A judge defends human rights and liberties. A prosecutor stands up in defence of human rights and liberties. Each person makes the choice to remain human.

It has fallen to us to live in a time of historical twilight—a time in which, to remain human, one must preserve the light within oneself and see the light in others. There is an interesting peculiarity here: good people see the good in others, while evil people see evil. A person sees in another what they experience within themselves. When an evil person sees a good person, the very sight of goodness makes them angry. Yet when a good person sees an evil person, they think of mercy rather than vengeance. Why is that? Because a good person does not wish to multiply evil. In an age of historical twilight, the threat of becoming part of evil, of yielding one’s place to evil, hangs over every single person. Evil loves to present itself as all-powerful and boundless. It wants to occupy the places of every person in the world. It has never succeeded. And it never will. Because in every era of historical twilight, millions of people make the choice to remain human. To stand their ground. To stand not as stone, but as living human beings. Each in their own place.

What can be done to such people? On the one hand, a great deal. They can be stripped of their rights, stripped of their liberty, stripped of their lives. On the other hand, nothing whatsoever can be done to them. Because good always occupies its own rightful place, whereas evil seeks to usurp the place of another. Everything that evil possesses has been stolen and seized by force. Everything that evil possesses is the product of cruelty, violence, and lies. Evil cannot help anyone. It can only destroy. Yet even that destruction has its limits. Those limits lie within the material world. Evil is material, whereas good is spiritual. Everything that good possesses belongs to it by birthright. The right to remain human is the very first human right. The right to remain human is the right to human dignity. And what can be done to the dignity of a person who stands their ground? Absolutely nothing.

Let us return to the beginning: a tiny human being is born. They need only goodness. What surrounds them in the world? What sort of people? What examples does a young child see before them when they begin to understand human beings? At what point, and why, does the notion take root in a person’s soul that goodness is unwanted and evil is right? What must a person go through and endure for white to become black and black to become white? When does the suicide of the soul take place? Does a person realise at that moment that they are experiencing clinical spiritual death? And finally, the crucial question: can a person who has given themselves over to evil be saved? Humanity has been answering this question for thousands of years. My answer is: yes, it is possible. Because deep within every person, a spark of goodness remains—an indelible trace of half a soul, the imprint of our natural human calling.

How can that trace be revived? How can the original code of human life be awakened within it? How can one remain human after having once lost oneself? There are many ways, and all of them begin with a person remembering their true, authentic self. It can be an agonising process. It will be painful, it will be shameful, it will be terrifying. There will be a void behind you. That is what happens when a person stands up to their full height and reclaims their rightful place in the world. And at the very same time, a lightness will come. Because in freeing themselves from evil, a person gains true freedom. Many bearers of evil regard people of goodwill as weak. Because good does not seek revenge. Because good is capable of forgiveness. Because good knows how to reach out a hand. Because good refuses to be cruel. They mistake our strength for our weakness.

Why? Because they do not believe in the inherently good calling of humanity. Those who have let evil into themselves assume that everyone else is just like them; otherwise, their entire worldview would collapse. They do not understand that repentance, forgiveness, and reconciliation are stronger and more enduring than wrath and retribution. The path to such understanding runs through trials, suffering, and tragedy. To survive spiritually in times like these, one can only remain human—remembering our original human calling. Those who return to themselves save themselves. At some point, a person says to themselves: “Enough, this is the limit. I cannot, I must not sink any lower. I must not abase myself; I must not destroy myself. I must not ruin my life completely. I want to live out the rest of my days remaining human. I will no longer allow evil to possess me and command me. I have remembered what I was when I was born. I have remembered my calling. I was born for a different life. And I want to return to that life.”

Evil drains a person of their strength and replaces it with its own force, substituting its own will for theirs. By breaking free from evil, a person reclaims their own strength and their own will. They reclaim the right to be themselves—true and authentic. How many centuries have passed? Yet the choice remains the same: to remain human. Humanity has survived, and even in an age of madness and chaos it retains the chance for a humane future, because every day, every minute, every second, people make the decision to remain human. To stand alongside those who remain human, and to join their ranks, is a worthy path for anyone who remembers—or has recalled—their human calling. I have a dream. I want to see our country become a country of people who have come through all the trials of this twilight age and remained human. I know that this is possible. Stay human. Thank you.

Editor: Anna Pavlova