LETTER FROM MOSCOW

In Vladimir, a charming but discreet town some 200 kilometers east of Moscow, the Summer Book Festival confirmed a trend that has been rife in cultural spheres since the start of the Kremlin's "special military operation" in Ukraine: the return of denunciation in Russia. "A new reality which, alas, was to be expected..." said a prominent Russian writer who, in the face of increased repression against any critical voices left in the country, asked to remain anonymous.

Opposed to "this war which is not ours," he has preferred not to take part in encounters with readers for the past two and a half years. As a precaution. He doesn't want to run the risk of becoming the target of "patriots" who are out to denounce the "enemy" inside the country.

This is what happened in Vladimir. The organizers of the festival, which took place from August 16 to 18, in this small town, were forced to cancel the events with Irina Kotova and Assia Demichkevitch. The writers had expressed their opposition to the military intervention in Ukraine. Leading pro-Kremlin colleagues and bloggers, relayed by the Russian Writers' Union, were "outraged" to see these two rebels speaking to the public in Vladimir. "The repression is now without limits," confided the author who, for safety's sake, prefers not to appear in public and, to write, leaves for a few weeks abroad.

He limits all communication on social media, where messages accusing him of treason have been circulating. "I'm being targeted. You have to be careful: first, trolls on the Internet, then possible legal proceedings." As Russia strengthens its legal arsenal against LGBT persons, any hint of homosexuality is scrutinized by the authorities and readers. "We're being watched," said one of the directors of a small publishing house that continues to publish independent works against the tide. One of these is a comic strip, Colombe Guennadï, in which the hero makes no secret of his questioning of his own sexuality. "We were denounced, and the police took an interest in us! I don't recognize my country anymore."

The threat extends far beyond literary circles. Forced to self-censor to conform to the Kremlin's narrative mold, theaters have received dictates from the culture ministry: in the throes of a tug-of-war with the West, accused of decadence, they must promote patriotism and protect values and traditions. "Self-censorship, denunciation, fear... As soon as you talk about sex, drugs or politics, there are letters. That wasn't the case before," said a Kazan director.

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