‘The grant money is cursed’ An exiled human rights lawyer describes how he lost faith in Russia’s opposition and found happiness in ‘honest work’ abroad
Mikhail Benyash spent years working as a lawyer in the Krasnodar region, where he often defended Russians against persecution by the authorities. This undertaking invited its own police pressure, with the Justice Ministry designating Benyash as a “foreign agent” in the fall of 2022. A year later, he was disbarred. Today, Benyash lives in Lithuania, where he recently found work as a plumber. In a viral Facebook post earlier this month, Benyash urged his former colleagues, as well as activists and journalists now despairing without USAID funding, to find a “real job.” Meduza spoke to Benyash on February 6, 2025, to learn more about the experiences that led to his attention-grabbing treatise.
Caution! There be obscenities ahead. Steer clear o’ this here text if salty language offends ye.
— What did you do today on your work shift?
— The same thing I wrote about [on my Telegram channel]. Tearing down partitions, yanking out pipes with a big wrench. That’s basically the job.
I wouldn’t call this a drastic change. From around 1993 to 2003, I worked in construction before, during, and after the army while studying law. Nothing here has really surprised me. The only thing that interests me in these situations is money. If the job pays and it’s honest work, then it’s a good job.
— You’ve urged other activists and journalists to follow your example because “we have no alternative.” Why do you think that?
— Because you have to eat. I don’t believe in professional activism. Professional activism is a sign of decay and abuse. If a person wants to be an activist, they can do it for free and sincerely. Many think someone owes them something. They used to work at some human rights foundation, and now their funding has been cut off — so what do they do?
Some people will leave, and some will stay. Those who end up on the street without a job need something to do. So, c’mon, guys, get to work! You can scrape by as an activist on crumbs, but you’ll have to keep begging for them. Or you can get a job and earn three, four, or five thousand [euros].
— And how much are you earning now?
— Around four times what OVD-Info pays its lawyers. It all depends on the workload. If we work well, there’s money. When I started in January 2025, the base rate was 3,000–3,500 euros. In reality, it’s more. This month we worked hard, so I hope it’ll be even more.
When I was a lawyer, I was used to making a lot. No human rights work, no activism would give me that. When I defended people [in politically motivated cases], I did it practically for free because I had enough money to afford it. Only in the last few years did human rights organizations start offering me money for it. I thought, well, if they’re offering, why not take it? But then I realized that these organizations used the cases for their key performance indicators when I defended people. I didn’t mind. My goal was just to help people a little.
Now I want to restore my financial situation. Because I took some very serious hits when my homeland came after me.
— You live in Lithuania now. When did you leave Russia?
— It was around the spring or summer of 2023. I left to find work. After being labeled a “foreign agent” and losing my license, I was facing the real threat of starving to death. I knocked on a few doors, and people told me: “Misha, you understand [why not], right?” Of course, I understand. Novaya Gazeta Europe investigated how “foreign agents” in Russia try to find work. I can tell you: It’s shit! It’s practically impossible.
No employers wanted me. Thank God, I was offered a job at Sanatsiya Prava, an analytical project created by Volodya Ashurkov that proposes legal reforms in Russia. But then the funding ran out. I looked into how that kind of funding works and realized I didn’t want to deal with it. I want to make money, not drown in all this idiotic paperwork.
— Leonid Volkov wrote on Facebook that you’re still working at the nonprofit End of Law, which he says is linked to Leonid Nevzlin. [Editor’s note: the group denies Volkov’s claim.]
— Dear God, such cringe! Nevzlin is paying me? Listen, I always operate from a very simple position: Take what they give. But unfortunately, Mr. Nevzlin never paid me anything.
— Do you have any idea why Leonid Volkov wrote that?
— End of Law works primarily with lawyers. From time to time, they ask me for comments. Sometimes, they take texts from my Telegram channel. But, man, that’s some serious cringe! That’s what happens when you step away from the Internet for a few hours.
— Was financial pressure the only reason you left human rights work, or were there other factors?
— Ever had something make you so sick you wanted to throw up? That’s what happened to me with human rights activism. I got so fed up with it that I didn’t just feel nauseous — I felt like throwing up. I can’t do it anymore. I just hate it. No more. It eats me alive. You can sing the praises of our great political prisoners as much as you want — of course, someone ought to help them. But it should be someone who isn’t sickened like this. Human rights work cost me dearly. I lost a lot more than many people… My career was destroyed. When I arrived in Vilnius, I had all my belongings in the bag on my back.
Mr. Volkov is a very smart man. He has an apartment in Vilnius worth 260,000 euros, rents a house, has a car, and brings home a good income. He has got enough fat on his bones to keep busy what whatever bullshit he’s doing now. I don’t have that financial blubber. As soon as I do, I’ll join in on that bullshit, too. But for now, you’ve got to put on your own oxygen mask first, and only then turn to the political prisoners. Because there won’t be anyone to take care of the political prisoners if I suddenly starve to death. Financially stable lawyers or activists will do it much better than broke neurotics. And our whole political clique right now — 95 percent of them — are broke neurotics.
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This [grant] money is cursed money. It won’t bring us happiness. Because it’s made us forget the value of work. When I started looking into this whole thing, I saw there are big players and small players. And there are some very good projects. I used to get invited to all these events in Europe. I’d show up and feel disgusted seeing 300 people — all with paid flights and hotel stays — sitting around, doing fuck-all. They show up to these meaningless panels and ramble absolute nonsense.
And I’d calculate how much it all costs: 50,000 euros, 100,000, 200,000. They’re just burning that money. It would be better spent on humanitarian aid for Ukraine. Or they could have spent that money on job retraining programs for Russian guys who are now struggling to make ends meet. I know a [former] coordinator at Navalny’s headquarters who now mops floors — and he loves it, by the way. I know another coordinator who became a truck driver…
We were treated very unfairly. At first, I thought that together we could change something. But then I realized that spending money on catering, socializing, and hanging out just to file a report, to tick a box showing that the meeting happened — that’s the real key performance indicator.
— Who treated you unfairly?
— They came down hard on me. I was persecuted since 2018. First, I was beaten, then tortured, then imprisoned, and then put on trial for more than five years. I didn’t see daylight. But the real betrayal came from those who kept shouting, “One for all and all for one!” We all rallied behind the one, only to realize that the one doesn’t give a damn about the rest of us. Okay, lesson learned. I’m on my own.
Everyone who ended up in the same awful situation, understand this: No one will help you. We are alone. Want to live with dignity? Stop chasing this easy, fast money. It was carved up before we ever had a chance — and it’s not worth it. Don’t work for these NGOs. It’s pure exploitation. For crumbs, people are throwing away the most valuable thing they have — their time. You’re better off investing it in real work. It may be hard work, but at least it’s independent.
— Some might argue: “I make next to nothing at an NGO, but at least I’m helping people in Russia.”
— What kind of help does OVD-Info provide?
— OVD-Info ensures that detainees have access to lawyers.
— And what difference has that made?
— They’re not facing it alone.
— Is that what lawyers are for? To ease loneliness? The work of lawyers in political cases [in Russia today] boils down to being professional shoulders to cry on. They show up, offer some pity, and that’s supposed to help. You might as well turn a few clueless lawyers into therapists. Or better yet, just slap a law degree on a therapist. But for God’s sake, leave the competent, professional lawyers alone. Because nothing here changes anything. Not one bit.
There’s something called learned helplessness. Before human rights work, I hardly had any. I was doing a lot of cool and interesting things that I was genuinely passionate about. Thanks to me, people were getting released from prison, for example. I defended a park from being developed into an apartment complex — and I actually saved it. In 2009, we stopped the construction of a port in the Imereti Lowlands. I saw the results of my work. When you’re doing human rights work, all you ever hear is, “They’re not alone, and that’s something.” But did anyone stop to think about my mental state? About what’s it like to bang your head against the wall for years and see absolutely no positive results?
God as my witness, I’m actually glad that [Donald] Trump and [Elon] Musk pulled off this “granticide.” To weed out the bad and keep the good, everyone must suffer. Napalm will scorch the field bare, clearing the way for fresh flowers to bloom. A new crop of honest and sincere people will emerge.
— What makes you so sure we’ll get honest and sincere people?
— Because they already exist. We just don’t see them. They’ve been crowded out by moral degenerates. Just recently, Mr. Volkov — since you already mentioned him — on one of his social media posts, nobody wrote in the comments that the Anti-Corruption Foundation has turned into [the ruling political party] United Russia. [Volkov] got very offended and threatened to knock out the teeth of anyone who repeated it. But actually, the guy in the comments was completely wrong. Their foundation hasn’t turned into United Russia. It’s much worse: They’ve become the [liberal opposition] Yabloko party. And Mr. Volkov has become a second [Grigory] Yavlinsky — completely powerless, pointless, and useless.
The measure of any activity is its usefulness. These people don’t produce anything useful. And because of that, many young, talented guys and girls — people with their own thoughts, their own perspectives — are stuck without room to grow. Remember that 16-year-old boy with the tricolor flag [at the antiwar rally in Berlin on November 17, 2024]? He was honest and sincere, just trying to do something. That kind of thing is great. But instead of encouraging him, they went after him and crushed him. And that’s exactly what Yabloko would do to all young, energetic, charismatic people. The best person to ask about this is [Ilya] Yashin. And [Alexey] Navalny talked about it, too. [Editor’s note: Both opposition politicians Yashin and Navalny were Yabloko members and later expelled from the party.]
— You mentioned Yashin. He’s a free man and still organizing protests. Why, then, do you think the opposition is in crisis?
— Because you need to know when to step down. To recognize that you’ve fulfilled your mission. To see you did everything you could, as best you could. None of these people has a pension to fall back on, and they think manual labor is beneath them, so here we are — they’ve ended up at “Free Russia.” [Editor’s note: Yashin stages antiwar, anti-Putin rallies with support from the Free Russia Foundation.]
— Do you see your departure from human rights work as a kind of retirement?
— A friend of mine and I once managed to take the Krasnodar prosecutor’s office to court. He was persecuted a lot. Now he’s a trucker in the U.S. and earns a good living, by the way. He sends me money whenever I run a crowdfunding campaign on my Telegram channel to help this or that political prisoner. That’s his practical contribution.
I don’t plan to swing a sledgehammer my entire life; I aim to earn some real money. Right now, I’m just mastering a profession I once knew but had largely forgotten. I’m learning Lithuanian and talking a lot with Lithuanians. I’m actually having a pretty good time. Making good money. And once I adapt, there will be something else. Maybe I’ll start my own company.
And if the situation turns 180 degrees and I become a lawyer again, I’ll do everything myself. I won’t be involved with any human rights organizations.
— Do you think about returning to Russia?
— I definitely won’t be able to run a business in Russia. But if [the regime] bites the dust, why not go back? Here’s something I’d like fellow expats to understand. Of course, we’ll have to return to Russia someday. But we need to consider what kind of people we’ll be when we go back. What will we be able to contribute?
Either we’ll be penniless neurotics who lived off handouts from various foundations, or we’ll be financially independent people with our own businesses and our own homes in Europe or America. People who can stand on our own two feet, who won’t return to Russia seeking revenge, purges, or anything like that — but to contribute something useful to the country.
A well-known political figure once said that Russia needs snipers, not bloggers. I disagree about the snipers, but I do believe Russia needs engineers and construction workers. There will be a lot of work to do, and nobody knows how to do actual work. We need to learn. It actually feels great to earn money by working for it — good, honest money. You don’t need to rely on anyone or beg for anything. You can be independent.
Clearly, the glorious future of our rosy little Russia is on hold for now, but we can’t forget that we’re still a part of that future. We’re in this together. And Russia will need to be prosperous to enjoy a bright and happy future. So, let’s set aside the goal of overthrowing Putin — I don’t think that’s remotely realistic — and let’s focus on something more achievable: making ourselves happy. Find happiness for yourself, bring happiness to those around you — and there will be more happiness in the world. How fucking great is that?
Interview by Kristina Safonova, translation by Kevin Rothrock
Cover Photos: Mikhail Benyash’s’ Facebook page