by empirical findings in the individual case studies, is presented clearly and well. Reading this book will prove highly instructive for students who wish to learn how to combine in-depth empirical work with theory development.
Examining the theoretical debate on protest, Hansen identifies a lack of attention in the literature to the connection between space and protest. Rightly pointing out the dangers of geographical determinism, he sets himself the ambitious aim of providing the systematic and generalised approach to space and protest that is missing. A comprehensive explanation of urban protest will have to include a wider set of social variables beyond those investigated in this book, which is clearly part of a broader, evolving research agenda under development. However, by the end of the book, Hansen has convincingly demonstrated the importance of geographical space and how it contributes to the emergence, realisation, and impact of protests. The spatial perspective also promises a fruitful application to cases beyond the former Soviet space.
Julie Wilhelmsen
Senior Research FellowNorwegian Institute of International Affairs
Preface
This book is based on my doctoral thesis, Mass Protests from a Spatial Perspective: Discontent and Urban Public Space in Kyiv, Minsk, and Moscow (Hansen 2020), which I defended and published in March 2020 at UiT: the Arctic University of Norway.
The question that spurred me to write my thesis—and, subsequently, this book—was how mass protests are affected by urban public space.
Based on field work in Eastern Europe spanning several years and interviews with demonstrators, protest organisers, and observers, I gradually developed an approach to assess the enabling and constraining effects of urban public spaces on public protest. I call this model the spatial perspective on mass protests; or the spatial perspective, for short.
The model was tested and refined by looking closely at three case studies, each of which served as the basis for an academic article. These case studies investigate protest spaces in three different cities—Kyiv, Minsk, and Moscow—and reflect three stages in the development of the spatial perspective. My thesis originally consisted of the three articles mentioned here, framed by seven introductory chapters.
The main difference between the thesis and the book you are now reading is that the three articles have here been integrated as chapters in their own right, for improved readability.
In addition, feedback from the doctoral committee has been incorporated where required, and some additional minor tweaks have been made to the case studies. However, the arguments and structure of the original articles have been kept largely unchanged. The main advantage of this approach is that it more clearly shows how the spatial perspective was developed.
One possible drawback of keeping the article-based chapters intact is that it has prevented me from updating some key information: The president of Ukraine, for instance, is no longer Petro Poroshenko, as stated in the first case study from 2016. The opposition in Minsk of 2020 is no longer coloured by its geopolitical views to the extent it was at the time of publishing the second case study in 2017. And Moscow, described in the third case study from 2019, is no longer as cluttered by fences and building projects as it was when I conducted field work in the city.
The purpose of these chapters is not, however, to describe current events—such information may be found elsewhere—but to illuminate the importance of urban protest, and to help researchers across a range of academic disciplines to understand this largely neglected element of societal contention. I believe the minor issues I have mentioned here will not distract the reader from the main subject and message of the book. In any case, it is necessary to summarise in brief the key events that have taken place since I wrote my original thesis.
Since the publication of Mass Protests from a Spatial Perspective, several important things have happened in the post-Soviet part of the world, demonstrating that a spatial perspective is relevant and important for our understanding of protest.
In the far eastern region of Russia, Khabarovsk Krai, for example, thousands of people have regularly gathered on Lenin Square since July 2020 to demonstrate against the Russian regime and the imprisonment of former governor Sergei Frugal (Flikke 2020, 16–18). The contestation between demonstrators and police over who controls Lenin Square shows that this particular space is symbolically important, at least for the parties involved.
Lenin Square has also contributed to producing powerful imagery for the national and regional opposition. A movement against the Russian leadership, able to fill one of the largest urban squares in Russia with people (the square’s size is second only to Red Square in Moscow), has the potential to reduce Kremlin influence over the Far East.
The protests have now spread from Khabarovsk to other Siberian cities, including Novosibirsk, Irkutsk, Krasnoyarsk, Vladivostok, and Omsk (Gladkikh and Ievstafieva 2020; Taiga.info 2020), and there have even been demonstrations of support for the Siberian dissenters in St. Petersburg and Moscow (BBC Russian Service 2020a). Increasingly, the authorities have begun resorting to violence in order to supress the movement (BBC Russian Service 2020b), but the protesters show few signs of stopping.
Another mass movement for change is currently underway in Belarus, on the borderland between Russia and the EU. Here, a wave of urban contention has struck every major city and most towns across the republic, beginning well before the presidential elections of 9 August 2020. Angered by election fraud and spurred on by the relentless brutality of government agencies, hundreds of thousands of Belarusians have aimed at—and in many cases succeeded in—occupying and appropriating urban spaces that have long been associated with President Aliaksandr Lukashenka. This has happened in spite of presidential control over a powerful army of law enforcement agencies, ready to use violence to suppress dissent.
In the capital, Minsk, protesters are marking “their” territories with the white-red-white flag of the opposition and tying ribbons wherever they can. An open space on Charviakova Street, outside the city centre, has even been turned into the Square of Changes (Bel.: Ploshcha peramen), complete with opposition flags, a mural to “the DJs of change”, and regular evening concerts (Boguslavskaia 2020). The struggle over the Belarusian presidency is an urban conflict in more than one sense.
Finally, in Kyrgyzstan, mass protests erupted on Ala-Too Square in the capital Bishkek in early October 2020, triggered by fraudulent parliamentary elections (Pikulicka-Wilczewska 2020). Here, too, the protesters’ choice of square was no coincidence. Two previous revolutions began on Ala-Too Square, and it seems likely that the protests of October 2020 will result in a third Kyrgyz Revolution in the space of little over 15 years.
These three events show how social and political protests continue to utilise and interact with urban public space and its possibilities. The spatial perspective presented in this book offers an additional dimension for understanding their complex dynamics.
I would like to thank the many people who have read and commented on this project during its development, especially my examiners Julie Wilhelmsen, Andrii Portnov, and Bjarge Schwenke Fors and my two closest colleagues at UiT, Yngvar Steinholt and Andrei Rogatchevski.
Thanks are also due to Kirsty Jane Falconer for her thorough language editing, Valerie Lange and Jana Dävers at ibidem Press, and to the Soviet and Post-Soviet Politics and Society series editor Andreas Umland.
I would further like to thank all respondents and interviewees for contributing to this book. Their accounts have been invaluable.
Finally, I wish to thank my family—especially my wife and friend Marina Dyshlovska—for loving support while writing this book.
