Repression in today's Russia is marked by a certain inconsistency and selectivity. Opponents of the current political system enjoy relative freedom of expression even while the authorities continue to tighten the screws, claiming victims in seemingly haphazard fashion.
The brother of opposition leader Alexei Navalny was imprisoned on trumped-up charges, independent television station Dozhd was forced out of its rented offices and effectively barred from broadcasting on most satellite and cable channels — thereby eliminating its vital advertising revenues — and the independent TV2 channel in Tomsk was summarily pulled off the air.
And yet other relatively independent media outlets and social venues continue propagating alternative opinions. Is there logic to this selective censorship? Some theories explain the regime's erratic behavior with the argument that officials do not usually receive clear guidance from the Kremlin and must therefore act at their own discretion — jailing one person while releasing another without explanation.
Modern authoritarian regimes are not as bloodthirsty as those of half a century ago and indiscriminate, mass repressions are less common now.
As Christopher Walker and Robert Orttung pointed out in a recent paper, "aside from outliers such as Cuba, North Korea, and Turkmenistan, today's authoritarian regimes do not seek total domination of all the means of mass communication. What they want instead is what we might call 'effective media control' — enough for them to convey their strength and puff up their claims to legitimacy while undermining potential alternatives."
How does it work? China is a pioneer in these "new technologies," and Beijing actively shares its experience with other authoritarian regimes in Belarus, Vietnam and Zimbabwe. And judging from the similarity of its methods, Russia is one of the worthy successors of Chinese methods.
The Chinese approach historically differed greatly from the Soviet practice of maintaining long lists of prohibited phrases as well as bureaucratic methods for implementing those rules. China did not have such lists and bureaucratic methods, relying instead on psychological control through a system based on self-censorship.
The Chinese regime deliberately chose the path of "strategic uncertainty" through selective media censorship. If, for example, two publications run articles exposing the same corrupt officials, the authorities punish one publication but not the other. This form of erratic recrimination creates uncertainty in the minds of journalists.
It prompts them to censor their own activities and to minimize potential damage by refraining from criticizing the system. The stakes are high: A miscalculation could lead to dismissal, imprisonment or even death.
One such well-known case concerns U.S. sociologists Gao Zhan and Li Shaomin, who were arrested on charges of espionage in 2002 during a research trip to China. The exact nature of the charges for which they were imprisoned and the documents they had allegedly collected — aside from some that are sold in ordinary Chinese bookstores — remain undisclosed.
This calls to mind the recent unfortunate case of Svetlana Davydova who was initially imprisoned on charges of high treason for informing the Ukrainian Embassy that the troops in her hometown might have been deployed to that country. However, the charges look flimsy at best: Davydova overheard a soldier speaking loudly on his telephone about the troop deployment while she rode on a public bus.
If the goal is to enforce justice, the authorities should punish the soldier for revealing such secrets. However, if the goal is to intimidate the public into turning a blind eye to troop and heavy equipment movements, the case against Davydova makes perfect sense.
Maria Repnikova, a University of Pennsylvania expert on Chinese media, writes: "Over the past five to ten years the Chinese authorities have been very flexible in changing their censorship in connection with public opinion, especially on the Internet. Not all avenues and discussions are closed: many questions can be discussed because the control is selective, making it more effective and less costly."
In fact, a system of selective repression is inexpensive compared to implementing mass repression: The arbitrary jailing of a single person makes hundreds of thousands of others control their own words and actions. This lack of transparency goes a long way toward creating an atmosphere of self-censorship.
The Chinese media are controlled by the Central Propaganda Department (CPD) and its numerous regional offices. In its direct censorship of the country's diverse media, the CPD is very arbitrary in choosing which newspaper to shut down or which editor to jail. The CPD can both appoint and hire the chief editors of most newspapers, only increasing the incentive to comply with the wishes of censors.
As a result, the Chinese media only criticize the authorities over inconsequential matters and refrain from expressing criticism on important issues. The same is true of academic scholars. An intellectual who expresses a politically careless remark could wind up jobless or in jail. Or else the authorities might decide not to threaten that individual with any consequences. And so, not knowing what to expect as a result of which statements, scholars tend to use popular metaphors, allegories and other ways of avoiding direct criticism in their public speeches.
It seems that Russia's regime is actively borrowing from the Chinese experience. The State Duma adopts laws with deliberately vague wording that allow for loose interpretation and the freedom to enforce or not enforce punishments as officials choose.
The authorities charged Svetlana Davydova based on a November 2012 amendment to the Criminal Code that broadened the definition of "high treason" to include "providing financial, material and technical, advisory or other assistance" to a foreign state or international or foreign organization.
In that way, the authorities are free to conclude that any contact with a foreigner, even for a mundane newspaper interview, constitutes "high treason."
Or else they might not draw that conclusion. Similarly vague legislation includes the laws on extremism, inciting hatred, insulting religious feelings, distorting the results of World War II and so on.
Nobody has any intention of systematically enforcing these laws, but their selective application enables the authorities to bring hard-hitting punishments against opponents of the system.
This logic explains why the authorities do not jail Alexei Navalny even while other, less prominent opponents of the regime sit behind bars, or why certain independent media outlets are permitted to continue publishing criticisms of the authorities.
To eliminate all of them without exception is a very costly and dangerous strategy, just as a boiling pot could explode if no safety valve is allowed to vent off steam. This system brilliantly manages to maintain control over the population by switching from physical to psychological repression, selectively punishing opponents and getting inside people's minds to convince them of the futility of resistance.
By gradually training the Russian people to censor themselves, the authorities make them a living part of their all-embracing system of repression.
Maria Snegovaya is a political scientist and doctoral student at Columbia University in New York. This article originally appeared in Vedomosti.