Time to read: 16 minutes(s)

Mark Kuperman is the founder of the region's democratic and human rights movement, a former member of the Public Monitoring Commission (PMC), a lawyer, an economist, a former regional government official, and the former mayor of Okha. The human rights activist spoke to NeMoskva about his accusations, his life, his regrets, and his hopes.

A cozy, bright, and tidy apartment in an ordinary high-rise building in Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk is familiar to many Sakhalin residents who have come here for help. Mark Aleksandrovich's wife, Galina Ivanovna, is bustling about in the kitchen. The human rights activist himself sits at a large, used table on wheels—for ease of movement. Behind him are portraits of family members, souvenirs from travels and friends, and around him are piles of papers in colorful folders, along with an old laptop. He knows exactly where to look for what materials, even though the archive contains documents from the 90s. However, since 2012, Galina Ivanovna has also been sorting through this archive—Mark Kuperman is practically immobile and can't even sit up without assistance. But he hasn't abandoned his work.

The FSB officers also did not forget about his work, statements and projects.

Early in the morning of April 27, 2024, security forces broke into Mark Kuperman's apartment and the homes of several other people in various cities on Sakhalin. They were looking for an "extremist movement." They even confiscated electronics from the children in one apartment. Their mother had just applied to join the Sakhalin movement "For Human Rights," which Kuperman leads.

Vera Boltunova, a friend of Kuperman's who was also searched, recalls that it was the only time she decided to sleep a little longer.

"I heard some kind of harassment, seven in the morning. I hadn't washed my face or combed my hair, I put on my robe, and opened the door. And there were five guys there, searching the room. They asked, 'What were you doing on January 16, 2023?' And I don't even remember what happened a week ago!" says Vera Boltunova.

Kuperman didn't want to look at the documents presented by the security forces, but they threatened him: "We'll call the police, put you on a stretcher, and you'll lie there in the station, and I'll read them to you."

While the operatives were asking other people what they knew about Kuperman's organization and whether he had called for the overthrow of the government, they were asking Mark Alexandrovich about a specific document: "Plan for Western participation in regime change in Russia. Humanitarian occupation."

Kuperman receives many emails, and at first he didn't even remember about this document. "But then I realized I sent it. I sent it to seven people, but I don't consider it public distribution, and I don't admit guilt," Kuperman says. However, the criminal case itself didn't surprise him.

"You won't believe it! Don't think I'm bragging, but I felt a sense of accomplishment. I'd felt inferior for a long time—so many of my colleagues I knew were either abroad or in prison, some had been killed," the human rights activist explains. "I was actually quite amused. They created an entire task force even before the search—13 people, three of them colonels!"

Initially, a criminal case was opened under the extremism article. But at the end of 2024, it retrained Under the terrorism statute—justification of terrorism. Kuperman was required to appear in court in person and was not allowed to use videoconferencing.

During the court hearings, it became known that the prosecution's main witness was an old acquaintance of Cooperman's. Apparently, says A human rights activist, "his career aspirations proved superior," and he cooperated with the security forces. Novaya Gazeta пишетIt was Maksim Ermoolenko. He had problems with the military recruitment office; they tried to draft him into the army, and Kuperman tried to help him. He was denied alternative service. And apparently, they could have forced him to cooperate with the investigation. Ermoolenko claims that Kuperman is "anti-Russian" and supports Western and Ukrainian policies.

Telegram channel ZPCh пишетVyacheslav Kalashnikov, who helped Kuperman with office equipment, was also questioned. Kalashnikov allegedly went to the regional FSB office himself and reported a document he received from Kuperman, the text of which "violates the constitutional order and implies the violent overthrow of the government."

The next hearings are scheduled for June 5 and 6. Kuperman is again expected to attend them in person.

Both Mark Kuperman and Vera Boltunova say that the apartment was bugged.

"We also saw surveillance: people were walking around, taking photos. I don't know if it's wiretapped now (when we spoke with him – editor's note). But the recording in the case file is of very good quality," says Kuperman.

"It was just talk. I remember only one meeting where I took it upon myself to make lists: Kuperman was monitoring food prices in the region," Vera Boltunova recalls. "The criminal organization failed, and so did the organization, and now they just can't stop. These guys tell me, 'Did he call for the overthrow of the government?' But I can't even imagine it. I'm 72, he's 86, what kind of government are we going to overthrow now?"

Vera Boltunova had visited the Kupermans' home many times—they had met through their children. She says that a wide variety of people gathered in Kuperman's apartment, often those he helped:

"I didn't always even know who these people were. One boy served three days in jail for picketing. Another teacher was kicked out of school for "inappropriate" "talking about important things."

The material evidence in the case (available to the editorial staff) even includes article From Wikipedia: "Russia's invasion of Ukraine (since 2022)." Also here: "Statement of the Council of the Sakhalin Public Organization 'For Human Rights' against the treacherous attack of Russian autocrats on democratic Ukraine." A reminder on how to talk to family about the war, a screenshot of a card from "Jellyfish" about how the Russian authorities prohibit calling the war. There was also a form from a meeting of the "For Human Rights" movement, dated April 15, 2022. On it, in handwriting similar to Kuperman's, were the following notes: "watch the idiot box, US biolabs and the West, war to distract Russians." Apparently, the security forces found no "meeting decisions." 

^{Screenshots from the criminal case file. Material evidence.}

Kuperman is confident that the reason lies in his position. He continues to insist that the reason for the war with Ukraine was not "demilitarization."

"There were real democratic processes in Ukraine. And Putin understands perfectly well that if Ukraine had followed its path all the way, then in 15 years people there would be living better than in Russia. And that would be the biggest proof that something is wrong with us. People would want to see change."

"And the fact that nationalists got 3% in the elections: if we hold elections like that, if we allow nationalists in, they might get up to 30%. And all these actions are aimed at destroying the very beginnings of an opposition here," says Kuperman. "And my second theory, regarding the criminal case, is that they're simply fed up with my appeals for protection from poverty and other issues."

Mark Kuperman is well known on Sakhalin; he worked extensively there and repeatedly clashed with the authorities. But he was born far from here, in Odessa. He lived there for only two years, and in early 1942, he and his family were evacuated to the Sverdlovsk region.

"My grandmother didn't want to leave, but the janitor gave her away—he said she was Jewish. They burned her to death, and then the whole family left on the second-to-last ship. So I don't consider Odessa my homeland," Kuperman recalls.

Now, says Mark Alexandrovich, he realized that he didn’t know a single word of Yiddish: his mother had no one to talk to, and the environment in Sverdlovsk was entirely Russian-speaking.

His mother remarried after the war, and he had a brother and sister. But his mother kicked out his stepfather in 1948, when the younger children were very young, after he hit Mark. The family, he says, was poor.

"We had a hovel like this—you'd light the fire in the evening, and by morning the water would freeze. I was the eldest. I could chop wood with one hand. We were poor, I'd pick quinoa and nettles for soup. Mom didn't earn much, and whenever she'd reach for the meter to pay for the electricity, she'd come down in tears."

"I built a small power station when I was 12—we lived near an airfield, I hauled scrap metal for wind turbines, and built batteries. I wouldn't say it was enough, of course; it only provided enough electricity for three light bulbs. But we probably used it for a year in the winter," Kuperman recalls his invention with some pride. "And how can you not be romantic in such a situation? I didn't think I was suffering!"

After graduating from the assembly technical school in 1958, he made a deal with several of his classmates to choose the farthest possible assignment. That's when he learned about the city of Okha. In Sverdlovsk, they didn't really tell him how to get to northern Sakhalin. But on the train, he met two Okha residents who gave him directions.

His work record is full. During Soviet times, he worked on the construction of probably all the island's major oil pipelines, even before the current Sakhalin-1 and Sakhalin-2 offshore projects were established. He says he can point out the main facilities built back then on a map of Okha by heart. He built them from scratch. Neftegorsk, later destroyed by an earthquake, in which 30 years ago perished more than 2000 people.

"I went there myself on the third day after the tragedy. I found a horrific scene: one of the deputy ministers of the Ministry of Emergency Situations was celebrating his birthday in a tent, surrounded by drunken screams—and across the street, 70 meters away, were coffins. It was simply horrific. And some even profited from the donations," Kuperman says, not hiding his disgust.

"And when they began to investigate the causes of the tragedy, it turned out that one school of thought had predicted the area's seismicity to be magnitude 9, while another had predicted it to be magnitude 4. And by decision of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, their science department decided to prioritize the lower figure. It made construction cheaper."

When the Communist Party of the Soviet Union declared democratization from within, Mark Kuperman joined the democratic platform but did not leave the party, even though he was regularly reprimanded at meetings and expelled after a criminal case.

Kuperman received his first criminal case and a two-year suspended sentence in 1985 for unaccounted ammunition he had stored after organizing a shooting club. The police told him to go and deal with the White House; it was a political matter. Kuperman himself says the authorities disliked him because he always sided with the workers and defended their rights. Truth and fairness, he believes, are normal components of any job.

After the criminal case, he was removed from his position as head of the installation department and transferred to the scientific organization where Galina Ivanovna worked. It was there that they met and worked together for two and a half years.

"I thought it would be a waste of time. But I learned so much there. And I didn't stop with my own case; I kept writing to the courts, challenging it."

Two hundred people, as he himself puts it, stood up for him. And through the Supreme Court, Kuperman was able to secure his rehabilitation and was readmitted to the party. But in 1988, he realized that no democratic platform could save the CPSU from within. He wrote a detailed statement and proposed: if anyone agreed with me, leave the party. Of the three hundred, thirteen people left. "They've matured," the human rights activist says.

In 1992, Mark Kuperman became Okha's first mayor. He says it was a difficult time. But even then, the authorities tried to stock up on groceries so that Okha residents always had at least one type of fruit.

While mayor, he organized the first city television, which still operates today.

"A normal country is impossible without freedom of speech. Unfortunately, Article 29 of the Constitution is being pushed further and further aside. Just as a country is impossible without courts, political competition, and periodic changes of power. I promoted this idea... The channel's charter stipulated complete journalistic freedom, but without insults, nationalism, and so on, of course." I told He said in an interview with OkhaTV.

He then served as vice governor for two years. Back then, Kuperman says, the regional budget didn't yet have significant revenues from oil production, and his salary was three times lower than that of a utility company manager.

"After tax breaks were given to oil companies, the shelf only began to see real returns in 2012, at the end of 2011," he explains. "And back then, the region was facing so many problems: no clean water, no roads. Now, the average per capita budget income is four times higher than in Primorsky Krai!"

And when his income increased, Kuperman began pushing for higher payments to regional pensioners. He hasn't succeeded yet. Currently, pensioners receive a 1000-ruble bonus from the region.

In 1997, he headed the regional branch of the "For Human Rights" movement. Kuperman was involved in virtually everything: public monitoring commissions, handling complaints from the tuberculosis hospital where prisoners were held, alleging abuse and torture. And at the local library, there were complaints that the human rights literature on the display stand set up by the human rights movement was flying off the shelves.

He wrote reports for the Moscow Helsinki Group and became an expert for the Council of Europe. Through the Solidarity movement, he met Ilya Yashin and Boris Nemtsov.

For a time, he was listed as an assistant to State Duma Deputy Elena Mizulina: as a lawyer by training, he was assigned to her. He met Mizulina herself only briefly, twice at most, but he says that sometimes his credentials as a deputy's assistant were helpful.

"In 2007, we held a funeral for the Constitution near the government building: we arranged with a funeral company, I read from the podium, which is not allowed in our constitution, and these pages were placed in a coffin. That's what we call a performance art these days! There were about 1,500 people in the square at the time."

Then there were protests against United Russia. But, for example, when NTV was shut down in 2001, I held a rally. Only 126 people showed up. I'm still upset that it was such a poor job. It's shameful on our part, such a low level of awareness and political culture," Kuperman recalls.

Everything changed on April 5, 2012. Mark Kuperman was in a hurry, as always. The day before, Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk had experienced a thaw, but overnight, ice had formed and been covered with a dusting of snow.

"He doesn't walk, he runs!" says Galina Ivanovna. "He was going to court."

"It was a completely mundane situation. I was running and at an intersection on Mira Avenue, in the city center, I slipped and fell," adds Kuperman. "A woman saw me from her window and brought me a blanket, which we put under me. There were cars nearby. Some Korean guy pulled out a down jacket, one with a huge pile, and covered me from the cold."

Since then, his own personal concerns have been added to the public agenda. Kuperman discovered that the stretch of road where he fell belonged to no one, so no one had cleaned it up. It turns out that on that very day, a record 19 people had sought treatment for broken bones sustained on slippery roads.

"The road workers tried to deny it, but I have a ton of meteorologist friends, and there was a report from an institute in Vladivostok that the conditions for ice formation were ideal that day," the human rights activist says.

He was able to win a lawsuit in 2023 for almost one and a half million, which also covered his care costs. But the injury persists, meaning there will be new expenses that he hasn't yet been reimbursed for: "What, will I ever recover? But we have to keep fighting for it."

Neither the operation in Korea nor the rehabilitation helped him recover. He rescued a woman with Ukrainian citizenship from a temporary detention center for foreign citizens—they wanted to deport her, despite her two adult sons, officers in the Russian army, and 20 years of living on Sakhalin. Then he tried to help a man who was sent for forced treatment: he claims he was provoked by police officers during their arrest and allegedly hit them with an empty three-liter gas can.

"They didn't follow through. It's my fault. The three-year power of attorney expired, and he was declared incompetent, so there's no one to renew it. And one lawyer let us down. I'm still worried about some of the cases," says Kuperman.

In 2017, Kuperman helped Nivkh Nikolai Solovyov publish his book "Yelgun the Hunter" about the repression of indigenous peoples on Sakhalin, using funds from Sakhalin Energy.

After the terrorism case was opened, everything was frozen: his pension, social benefits, and anything that had been deferred by the court. "But what about Article 35 of the Constitution!" Kuperman was indignant. "No one can be deprived of their property except by a court order. And my trial isn't over yet!" So now he has to deal with this issue as well.

Sometimes her children help out with the housework: one daughter lives in Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk, the other in Israel. But she says she didn't move for political reasons—she was taking her granddaughter for treatment.

"I have five grandsons and a granddaughter. Three years ago, one grandson drowned just a month before his 16th birthday. He couldn't swim, but he decided to save a 10-year-old girl," recalls Mark Kuperman. Behind him is a portrait of the deceased grandson.

Galina Ivanovna is primarily responsible for his care. As Kuperman says, "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for her."

"She has a pacemaker, heart problems, a bunch of other ailments, varicose veins, and suffers with her legs. Attacks happen once a week, sometimes more or less often. They wanted surgery, but the coronavirus hit, and everything was postponed. Then she forbade it, saying, 'As long as I live, that's how long I'll live.' So, it's a daily struggle for physical survival."

After the war began, Kuperman says, there were some small anti-war protests in the city. But "there were very few of us," he admits.

"They put up simple leaflets saying 'No to War' and painted a pacifist sign on the hill. Naturally, they didn't tell anyone in advance; only three people knew," the human rights activist says.

In general, regarding the future of the country, his hope lies primarily with the youth, who are more receptive to new things, less “stuck in stereotypes,” interested in their future, and less intoxicated by the government and its promises, compared to those who watch the idiot box.

He considers himself partly to blame for what happened to the country. He says there should have been less debate in the human rights community about whether politics is worthwhile, and more struggle and action.

"I was at the forefront, I understood everything. That's why I consider myself to be to blame, because in our discussions we were conformists. But we should have, like Boris Nemtsov, waged an open struggle. We could have changed everything back then, when Boris Yeltsin removed him from the government."

You have to participate, do, create. But if you just watch and say, "When will this end?" it never will. All this evil happens because most people just watch.

He says he would have been the first to go to jail if not for his physical condition. And it's precisely because of this that he can't encourage young people to do anything.

"This is my moral limitation. If I weren't in such a state, I would have been the first one to the square; I'd already be in jail. But as it is, I don't have the moral right to call for action without demonstrating action by example. This is a huge barrier for me right now," Kuperman concludes.

"But from the standpoint of my convictions, am I doing the right thing by being involved in human rights? It's right, I've never changed that. Let them put me in jail, I'll rot there. I have no doubt that good will triumph over evil. Though, I wish it would happen sooner."