The Petushinsky Court of Vladimir Oblast, Russia, has concluded its trial of former attorneys for Alexei Navalny — Vadim Kobzev, Alexei Liptser, and Igor Sergunin. All three were charged under Article 282.1(2) of the Russian Criminal Code for their involvement with Navalny’s "extremist" Anti-Corruption Foundation (FBK). All three lawyers have been added to Rosfinmonitoring's list of extremists and terrorists. In a move reminiscent of Belarusian judicial practices, Judge Shilova decided to close the trial to the public. On January 17, 2025, the court handed down the following sentences: Vadim Kobzev – 5.5 years in prison, Alexei Liptser – 5 years in prison, Igor Sergunin – 3.5 years in prison.
In August 2023, the Moscow City Court sentenced opposition leader Alexei Navalny to 19 years in a high-security prison on charges of creating an extremist organization, along with additional accusations. On February 16, 2024, Navalny died in a penal colony in the Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous District. On December 10, 2024, Navalny’s team released videos recorded during his meetings with his lawyers in prison, which violated attorney-client confidentiality.
All three accused lawyers delivered their final statements in court. "Novaya Gazeta" published Vadim Kobzev’s statement in full.
Final statement by attorney Vadim Kobzev
Honorable Court, esteemed members of the Court,
My speech consists of three parts. The first is an expression of gratitude.
First and foremost, I wish to thank the presiding judge for conducting the trial with a balanced and measured approach. Your Honor, I sincerely admire your stoic calmness and titanic patience. There were moments when one could sense an internal struggle on your face, but you always maintained your composure. I particularly appreciate your unwavering politeness and punctuality throughout these proceedings.
I also extend my thanks to the judge’s assistant for her professionalism in her challenging pursuit. And on a more personal note — Olesya Vladimirovna, your radiant, calming, and exceptionally kind smile every morning before the hearings gave me a surge of warmth and optimism. Thank you for your smile.
I thank the prosecutors for their restraint and composure, particularly for refraining from melodramatic outbursts and hysterical tones, which are all too common in trials of this nature.
And, of course, my deepest gratitude goes to my fellow defenders.
Brilliant defense, impeccable arguments, meticulously prepared documents, and exceptional oratory skills — I could not have hoped for better representation. It is no secret that the vast majority of you worked pro bono, without any financial compensation. Lawyers who defend public interest cases on a pro bono basis deserve universal respect and recognition. As I deliver my final words, I wish to pay tribute to you all. I tip my hat to you.
To Andrey Andreevich Grivtsov, Denis Karlovich Leisle, Andrey Anatolyevich Orlov, Alkhas Leonidovich Abgadzhava, Rustam Adamovich Zhane — my deepest respect to you.
And now, Alexei Evgenyevich, it's your turn. Before this trial began, we barely knew each other. I knew that you were Lipster, and you knew that I was Kobzev — nothing more. But as we endured the long and tedious readings of case protocols, we became acquainted, and that acquaintance grew into a friendship. I am genuinely glad for that. Throughout the trial, you supported me in many ways, and I tried to do the same for you. I truly hope that I succeeded.
The Philosophical Part of My Speech
How did we all end up here — in this courtroom, in 2024, in such an unusual lineup? To illustrate my point, let me tell you a recent story. In 2012, Russian pop singer Nikolai Baskov released a music video. A typical music video, like dozens of others. At the time, nobody — except his fans — paid much attention to it. Yet 11 years later, in December 2023, the Tagansky District Court of Moscow decided to ban that video under Russia’s anti-LGBT propaganda law. The court ruled that, and I quote, “the romantic relationship between the video’s protagonist and another man contains communicative elements of romantic affection”. As a result, the TV channel "Tochka TV" was fined 1 million rubles for broadcasting it. What has, indeed, happened?
What happened is that, over 11 years, the country changed, and a different time came. Could Baskov or his producers have foreseen in 2012 that their video would be banned in 2023? No. Could they have predicted this? No, they couldn’t. And most importantly, should they have anticipated it? No. Of course, they should not have.
Simply put, Russia changed its lenses. Over 11 years, the country’s perspective shifted, and what was once benign entertainment became a crime.
The same transformation happened with the ideas of Alexei Navalny. His words — spoken, written on paper, or stored on a hard drive — were not crimes at the time. Now, we are being prosecuted for conveying Navalny’s thoughts to others. Did Navalny, back in 2011, ever imagine that in 2021, his entire decade-long career would be declared criminal, and in 2024, his defenders would be on trial for merely sharing his ideas? Did I, in 2010, think that I would be imprisoned in 2023 for this? These are rhetorical questions.
More tellingly, even in 2021, FSIN operatives and investigators had no idea that this would happen. They continued to quietly eavesdrop on Navalny’s conversations in prison, collecting his thoughts as evidence. And, of course, I must draw attention to one particular thought that was overheard — an idea to share via Telegram post news about rising food prices. One of the investigators testified in court that he personally considered this statement to be "extremist and criminal”. Because of this thought, attorney Lipster now sits beside me behind bars.
Who knows? In 5 or 10 years, will people be imprisoned en masse in Russia for reporting inflation? The future is unknown, but we know the past. In the 1930s, 40s, and 50s, Soviet courts sentenced people to prison camps for expressing skepticism about the government. Jokes about the Soviet constitutional order or bureaucrats — satirical thoughts — were then criminalized just as "discrediting the government" and "extremism" are today. Decades later, judges (sometimes even the same persons) overturned those verdicts, sighing: “That was just the way things were back then.” Eighty years have passed. History has come full circle. Once again, in Petushinsky Court, we are on trial for "discrediting government officials."
As a nation, we are stuck in place. We are trapped in an optical store, trying on random glasses, never bothering to check the prescription in our pocket.
The Third, Literary-Historical Part of My Speech
In Erich Maria Remarque's novel The Spark of Life, a concentration camp commander, captured by American soldiers in spring 1945, pleads:
"I didn’t know about any of this! It was others… They acted on their own!"
To which an American corporal replies:
"Of course. Always someone else. And what about those who died here? Or was that not you either?"
The commander responds:
"It was an order. A duty."
The corporal turns to his fellow soldier:
"In the coming years, we will hear two phrases more than any others: ‘I was just following orders’ and ‘I didn’t know anything.’"
The commander didn’t listen to him:
“I did everything I could…”
“That,” the corporal said bitterly, “will be the third one”.
Your Honor!
Before you retire to deliberate my sentence, I genuinely hope that you will never — under any circumstances — find yourself uttering any of these three phrases.
Thank you for your attention.
In August 2023, the Moscow City Court sentenced opposition leader Alexei Navalny to 19 years in a high-security prison on charges of creating an extremist organization, along with additional accusations. On February 16, 2024, Navalny died in a penal colony in the Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous District. On December 10, 2024, Navalny’s team released videos recorded during his meetings with his lawyers in prison, which violated attorney-client confidentiality.
All three accused lawyers delivered their final statements in court. "Novaya Gazeta" published Vadim Kobzev’s statement in full.
Final statement by attorney Vadim Kobzev
Honorable Court, esteemed members of the Court,
My speech consists of three parts. The first is an expression of gratitude.
First and foremost, I wish to thank the presiding judge for conducting the trial with a balanced and measured approach. Your Honor, I sincerely admire your stoic calmness and titanic patience. There were moments when one could sense an internal struggle on your face, but you always maintained your composure. I particularly appreciate your unwavering politeness and punctuality throughout these proceedings.
I also extend my thanks to the judge’s assistant for her professionalism in her challenging pursuit. And on a more personal note — Olesya Vladimirovna, your radiant, calming, and exceptionally kind smile every morning before the hearings gave me a surge of warmth and optimism. Thank you for your smile.
I thank the prosecutors for their restraint and composure, particularly for refraining from melodramatic outbursts and hysterical tones, which are all too common in trials of this nature.
And, of course, my deepest gratitude goes to my fellow defenders.
Brilliant defense, impeccable arguments, meticulously prepared documents, and exceptional oratory skills — I could not have hoped for better representation. It is no secret that the vast majority of you worked pro bono, without any financial compensation. Lawyers who defend public interest cases on a pro bono basis deserve universal respect and recognition. As I deliver my final words, I wish to pay tribute to you all. I tip my hat to you.
To Andrey Andreevich Grivtsov, Denis Karlovich Leisle, Andrey Anatolyevich Orlov, Alkhas Leonidovich Abgadzhava, Rustam Adamovich Zhane — my deepest respect to you.
And now, Alexei Evgenyevich, it's your turn. Before this trial began, we barely knew each other. I knew that you were Lipster, and you knew that I was Kobzev — nothing more. But as we endured the long and tedious readings of case protocols, we became acquainted, and that acquaintance grew into a friendship. I am genuinely glad for that. Throughout the trial, you supported me in many ways, and I tried to do the same for you. I truly hope that I succeeded.
The Philosophical Part of My Speech
How did we all end up here — in this courtroom, in 2024, in such an unusual lineup? To illustrate my point, let me tell you a recent story. In 2012, Russian pop singer Nikolai Baskov released a music video. A typical music video, like dozens of others. At the time, nobody — except his fans — paid much attention to it. Yet 11 years later, in December 2023, the Tagansky District Court of Moscow decided to ban that video under Russia’s anti-LGBT propaganda law. The court ruled that, and I quote, “the romantic relationship between the video’s protagonist and another man contains communicative elements of romantic affection”. As a result, the TV channel "Tochka TV" was fined 1 million rubles for broadcasting it. What has, indeed, happened?
What happened is that, over 11 years, the country changed, and a different time came. Could Baskov or his producers have foreseen in 2012 that their video would be banned in 2023? No. Could they have predicted this? No, they couldn’t. And most importantly, should they have anticipated it? No. Of course, they should not have.
Simply put, Russia changed its lenses. Over 11 years, the country’s perspective shifted, and what was once benign entertainment became a crime.
The same transformation happened with the ideas of Alexei Navalny. His words — spoken, written on paper, or stored on a hard drive — were not crimes at the time. Now, we are being prosecuted for conveying Navalny’s thoughts to others. Did Navalny, back in 2011, ever imagine that in 2021, his entire decade-long career would be declared criminal, and in 2024, his defenders would be on trial for merely sharing his ideas? Did I, in 2010, think that I would be imprisoned in 2023 for this? These are rhetorical questions.
More tellingly, even in 2021, FSIN operatives and investigators had no idea that this would happen. They continued to quietly eavesdrop on Navalny’s conversations in prison, collecting his thoughts as evidence. And, of course, I must draw attention to one particular thought that was overheard — an idea to share via Telegram post news about rising food prices. One of the investigators testified in court that he personally considered this statement to be "extremist and criminal”. Because of this thought, attorney Lipster now sits beside me behind bars.
Who knows? In 5 or 10 years, will people be imprisoned en masse in Russia for reporting inflation? The future is unknown, but we know the past. In the 1930s, 40s, and 50s, Soviet courts sentenced people to prison camps for expressing skepticism about the government. Jokes about the Soviet constitutional order or bureaucrats — satirical thoughts — were then criminalized just as "discrediting the government" and "extremism" are today. Decades later, judges (sometimes even the same persons) overturned those verdicts, sighing: “That was just the way things were back then.” Eighty years have passed. History has come full circle. Once again, in Petushinsky Court, we are on trial for "discrediting government officials."
As a nation, we are stuck in place. We are trapped in an optical store, trying on random glasses, never bothering to check the prescription in our pocket.
The Third, Literary-Historical Part of My Speech
In Erich Maria Remarque's novel The Spark of Life, a concentration camp commander, captured by American soldiers in spring 1945, pleads:
"I didn’t know about any of this! It was others… They acted on their own!"
To which an American corporal replies:
"Of course. Always someone else. And what about those who died here? Or was that not you either?"
The commander responds:
"It was an order. A duty."
The corporal turns to his fellow soldier:
"In the coming years, we will hear two phrases more than any others: ‘I was just following orders’ and ‘I didn’t know anything.’"
The commander didn’t listen to him:
“I did everything I could…”
“That,” the corporal said bitterly, “will be the third one”.
Your Honor!
Before you retire to deliberate my sentence, I genuinely hope that you will never — under any circumstances — find yourself uttering any of these three phrases.
Thank you for your attention.
