It’s a scene reminiscent of an armed stand-off or the last days of a condemned man. But the horde of rubberneckers, satellite TV vans and hacks stumbling through the long grass at 19 Bogucharskaya Street has a different focus: a broken-down wooden shack.
This simple house and its inhabitants in Butovo, on the southern outskirts of Moscow, have become a cause célèbre throughout Russia. The Prokofyev family who live in it are the talisman of local residents struggling to protect their homes from demolition by the city’s government.
”My great-grandparents were given this land by the state in 1936,” says Mikhail Prokofyev (19), waving a hand across the carefully tended vegetable patch and clipped lawn that lies beyond the barricade at the front gate. ”Now they want to stick us in a one-room apartment without a single document to say we own it.”
Last week neighbours joined forces with the Prokofyevs to fend off an attack from court bailiffs and special-forces police sent to evict them. Their possessions were removed as camouflaged men charged into the house, but the family managed to stay put and now await a second assault.
On Monday, the campaigning anti-corruption Duma deputy Alexander Lebedev stepped into the fray, saying he had formally rented a room in another of the threatened homes, meaning it was protected by his MP’s immunity.
The Prokofyevs’ struggle is being seen as a new hotspot in the people’s fight for justice against a government yet to shed its army of bribe-hungry bureaucrats.
In the run-up to the G8 summit in St Petersburg, where President Vladimir Putin is keen to deflect foreign criticism of his alleged backsliding on civil rights, state-run TV channels have run hard on the story as an example of the common man taking on the state.
Supporters of the Prokofyevs have pitched tents in their garden and two prominent members of the Public Chamber, a Kremlin-sponsored body set up to ape civil society, slept overnight at the camp. Yet besides being an opportunity for Putin to show off his democratic side, this dispute is a real scrap between poor people and politics and big business.
The Prokofyevs and their neighbours have been backed by a growing number of residents’ groups trying to fight off similar construction projects. Their house is plastered with supportive newspaper articles and photographs of the bailiff’s military-style attack on their property. One slogan reads: ”There are laws in the Russian Federation. Respect them!” The family’s campaign for justice has thrown into sharp relief the growing disparity between rich and poor that academics warned last year could provoke social unrest.
As Moscow booms on the back of a growing economy, mayor Yuri Luzhkov is pushing huge new construction projects on the city outskirts. High oil prices mean cash is pouring in to state coffers and wages are rising, prompting demand for new stores and housing. Shopping malls are mushrooming across the city while new skyscrapers tower over neighbourhoods.
According to a survey published at the weekend by New York-based Mercer Human Resource Consulting, Moscow is the most expensive city in the world to live in, with the average price of real estate creeping close to $4 000 per square metre. But wealth rarely trickles down to the lowest tier of society.
A swathe of new high-rise blocks reached this edge of Butovo two years ago, and casts its shadow across Bogucharskaya Street, a string of single-storey wooden homes in a leafy suburb.
Luzhkov angered residents by saying in response to their pleas for mercy: ”We will not put up with greediness.” This week he struck a conciliatory tone in a newspaper interview, suggesting that each family would be negotiated with separately.
However, the evidence so far suggests there is little room for manoeuvre. In agreement with the city government, a private construction company plans to build more high-rise blocks on the spot. Residents have been offered alternative apartment blocks — often smaller than their existing homes — but no compensation, because a court refused their right under the land code to receive documentary evidence of ownership.
”There’s no doubt the judges are in the city government’s pocket,” says Roman Popov, a resident at number 17 Bogucharskaya Street. ”The court took just 30 seconds to ignore our pleas and give the order to evict us.”
Moscow officials have consistently been accused of bribing judges and taking kickbacks from construction companies that get tenders.
”We’re normal people here,” says Roman’s mother, Tatyana. ”We have enough to get by here, we’re not greedy. So Luzhkov wants to talk? He can come round any time. All we want is some respect.” Igor Plotnikov, a lawyer for the family, says he will pursue their fight to the Supreme Court if necessary. ”Maybe there, at least, we’ll see some adherence to Russian law.” — Â