Today there are between three and five million homeless people in Russia. More than 60,000 of them live on the streets of St Petersburg. Few foundations help disadvantaged people, but there are also various kinds of grassroots initiatives. FURFUR visited the anarchists’ Food Not Bombs action and talked to the participants about why they do it and tried to find out why the police don’t let them feed the homeless.
It’s an overcast Sunday afternoon outside the Vladimirskaya metro station. It’s not crowded, but, as usual, everyone is in a hurry to get somewhere. A man with a microphone is standing in the middle of the square, handing out leaflets: “Girls, take an advertisement, otherwise I’ll get depressed”. Not far from the metro, at the entrance to the Cathedral of the Vladimir Icon of the Mother of God, hanging from both crutches, stands a woman in her sixties wearing a down scarf and a long jacket. In her hands she holds a plastic jar, into which sometimes money is put by caring passers-by. A little further away, by the wrought iron fence, an old woman is standing in the same pose, but looking much cleaner and better. At the back of the trio is a man leaning on a cane at the very corner of the cathedral, just opposite the metro. He looks about forty, carries a large rucksack, and has a grimace of pain and humility on his wrinkled face. In his hands he holds the same alms jar.
A group of young men with large bags and rucksacks come out of the metro. The girls have piercings in their noses, lips and cheeks. Orange, purple and blue hair pokes out from under their hats. Next to them walk sturdy guys who hardly stand out from the crowd, except for two of them. One has long dreadlocks and booms in his ears, the other has several tattoos on his face. Seeing them all, the promoter says directly into the microphone, “Oh, my breadwinners are here”. This is how he greeted the activists of the Food Instead of Bombs initiative. For more than ten years, every Sunday, young people and girls have been serving vegan food to all comers on Vladimirskaya Square.
The international Food Not Bombs movement began in the 1980s in Cambridge, Massachusetts. During a protest against the construction of a nuclear power plant, activists used the slogan “Money for food, not for bombs”, which was later shortened to “Food not bombs”. Later, during a meeting of executives of banks that were funding nuclear power projects, they decided to put the slogan into action. Gathering outside the building where the meeting was held, activists began distributing free food to homeless people. The actions became regular and the main aim was to draw public attention to the problems of poverty and hunger, which activists said were the fault of capitalism and the militaristic system in the country. To demonstrate this, they take expired food from markets and supermarkets that would otherwise be thrown away and give it to the needy. After a while, a cell of the movement appeared in San Francisco, where it met with incomprehension and aggression from the mayor of the city. Activists were beaten and detained by the police during demonstrations, after which the number of participants only grew. All this attracted media and public attention, and hundreds of people came to hand out food. Detentions of Food Not Bombs activists did not stop in San Francisco until the mid-1990s. Subsequently, cells of the movement began to emerge all over the world.
In addition to weekly actions, members of the initiative provide aid during natural disasters. After Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, Food Not Bombs organised a programme to collect and deliver food to those affected. It also provided food deliveries to survivors of one of Asia’s biggest tsunamis. During the 9/11 attacks, activists set up a feeding station for rescue workers in the rubble. “Food for Bombs also supports various kinds of protest actions. Activists organised food distribution points during the Orange Revolution in Ukraine, a farmers’ protest in Bosnia and Herzegovina and an anti-war protest at President Bush’s ranch in Texas. In 2012, activists opened FNB Free Skool in Taos, New Mexico. The classes analyse current social issues, the possibility of peaceful social change and cultural events that promote social change in society.
To date, the Food Instead of Bombs initiative exists in more than sixty countries around the world. As indicated on the movement’s international website, they are aware of one thousand chapters, half of which are in the United States. At the same time, it is noted that there are many more Food Not Bombs groups around the world, and many they simply do not know about. In Russia, for example, only fifteen groups are listed in their register, when in fact they are aware of sixty.
The anarchists began to spread out on a nearby concrete bench. A girl with colourful hair took out a bag of pasta and buckwheat patties. Another opened a package of disposable plates and forks.
“Were you warned about no names? I don’t want to get a ***hole from the booms in the alley,” says the anarchist to me right after the greeting.
If all the finances were not spent on bombs, weapons and military supplies, but just on food for the needy, then no one would go hungry
The fears of the participants in the initiative stem from the fact that they generally hold anti-fascist views. There is open hostility between them and the NS-skinheads on this basis of ideological differences. For example, participants in the Food Not Bombs action in St. Petersburg have been attacked more than once. The most notorious of them was the murder of antifascist Timur Kacharava. On the evening of 13 November 2005 the young man was returning with his classmate Maxim Zgibai from Food Not Bombs action on Vladimirskaya Street. They were attacked by members of a nationalist group near the Bukvoed shop on Vosstaniya Square. Timur Kacharava was stabbed six times in the neck. Maxim Zgibay was taken in a serious condition by ambulance. Kacharava was one of the founders of Food Not Bombs in St. Petersburg and had been threatened by far-right activists.
On 14 January 2007 neo-Nazis stabbed Ivan Yelin twenty times in St Petersburg as he was walking home from the Food Not Bombs action. The bleeding antifascist was taken to hospital and survived.
On 2 February 2007 the two antifascists were threatened over the telephone by unknown persons. One of the callers introduced himself as Timur Kacharava and said they would “meet soon”. The threats did not turn out to be empty words. On 4 February 2007 there was an explosion at a flower stall on Vladimirskaya Square in St Petersburg. The injured saleswoman had to go to hospital, while two homeless people were thrown back by the blast wave. The explosion took place at 4.20pm, which is the time when homeless people and activists working with them usually crowd around the food bins. But on that day, the anarchists were late for the rally and were not hurt.
As soon as the activists organised the distribution, a hunched-over granny with glasses and a green mackintosh approached. Following her, a well-dressed woman appeared and asked for a double portion, arguing that she had “two grannies there”.
“What are you doing this for? Is it some kind of social protest, an attempt to prove something to society, or is it charity in the first place?” – I ask.
“Some FNB members say, ‘It’s not charity’. They think it’s so normal that it’s not even worth considering in that way. Others say, ‘I just care about feeding people because no one is doing it.’ Except for Nochlezhka (a rehabilitation shelter for the homeless. – Ed. note), but that’s not enough. That’s the most important thing, then there’s the propaganda of vegan ideas, the propaganda of trust in people. That free food can just be and it is not something worth working your entire life for, you can just come and eat. It’s okay. And it’s worth sharing. I wish that saying ‘He who doesn’t work doesn’t eat’ didn’t work. If you don’t work, if you’re a bum, then it just so happens, the dude is just unlucky. Why not feed him, why not support him? So that he understands that he is not alone, that he is not the dregs of society. That he can be human. You have to instill faith in people. That’s what really matters,” answers Serafima.
“Everyone comes for some kind of conviction. For me, it’s not just charity, but also a bit of social protest. It’s all interconnected. We have a lot of money going to war now. Pensioners have their pensions frozen. A grandmother yelled at me in the metro like that. “They are freezing your pension, Grandma,” I say to her. – “Do you realize that’s why your life is lousy?” And she said to me: “Let Putin bomb everybody!” He bombs them. But ordinary people are suffering. More and more there is a gradation of poverty. It’s not just about the homeless, it’s not just about the homeless. There are ordinary people too. This war, this militaristic mood in the country is really hitting ordinary people. If all the money wasn’t spent on bombs, weapons and military supplies, but on food for the needy, no one would go hungry,” says Snezhana.
A stout, dark-haired man of indeterminate age appeared out of thin air on the left. He said hello to the anarchists and took out a plastic bucket from a bag, in which the girls had put food for him. “Have you guys eaten yourself?” he asked. “Yes, of course,” the young men replied. Looking at him it was impossible to tell whether he was homeless or not. Slightly dirty old jacket, clean but well-worn jeans, slightly scuffed black boots. The man introduced himself as Said and told me that he, along with some students from the Institute of Culture and the Polytechnic Institute, had begun feeding people at Vladimirskaya Street almost 12 years ago. At that time, a lot more people came to the rallies, both those who were feeding and those who were eating. All in all, there were three points in the city: on Vladimirskaya Street, near Sennaya Street and near the Theatre of Young People’s Friendship. Most of the people took food that was a day or two overdue, but no more, or that was about to expire. We made arrangements through the landlords of the warehouses. The landlords had to free the warehouse for the new batch, while the old batch was given to Said and the activists. They fed them meat as well, not just vegan food. At one time, Said said, they really wanted to run a social canteen, but they did not get an appointment with the governor’s aide at Smolny due to lack of organisation.
Talking about their actions, he particularly pointed out that their biggest problems were not with the police but with the skinheads (meaning NS-skinheads. – Ed.). “Before they were just more dangerous. It was newer. They didn’t like the fact that they were humiliating a Russian person. One skinhead came up to me, and his face wasn’t exactly the same as mine, but similar. I said to him, ‘Who are you, kid?
The woman on crutches either pretended not to understand the question or simply did not want to talk to me. Then an old woman in good clothes came to her rescue. Galina told me that she approved of the anarchists’ action, because there were so many people in need in the country who needed help. She’s been coming for a meal for several years now and was particularly struck by the fact that the food is tastier this year. The woman said she does not live on the street but asks for alms for other reasons. “Here people are writing about it … and it’s outrageous. Even the church newspaper “Orthodox St. Petersburg” wrote that you should never serve anyone anywhere – because they work for the drug mafia. Everyone has their own reasons and problems. For example, I have two children who are students, who are paying tuition, and I don’t have enough. And I have a heap, a heap of other problems there,” complained Galina.
The food ran out in about ten minutes. During this time the activists had distributed fifteen portions, but people kept coming. Snezhana says that often they cook more and sometimes they have to finish the meal themselves, but this time it was not enough, so not so many homeless people came. Usually the anarchists feed about 30-40 people per event. Some of the food is bought by the activists, while some is given to them by friends and acquaintances. The activists do not manage to get expired or slightly expired products from chain shops, and the rubbish shops are now closed. “And it’s really hard to freeload here. If you go rummaging around in garbage dumps, they can take you to the police because you’re stealing from the dump. It’s funny and sad,” says Snezhana.
From somewhere in the back, a man walked up with a slight limp. Black hat, dirty beard, shabby leather jacket, shoulder bag, scruffy hands, trousers, old shoes. When I asked him about the “Food Instead of Bombs” campaign, he didn’t quite know what he was talking about, took off his hat and pulled out a four folded FNB leaflet. “I lived with my first wife – she signed me out. Second wife didn’t have time to register, she died. Then there was a fire. And now I’m on the street,” Vitaly shares his story. He approved of the action of the young people and said that since the church cannot feed the homeless, “let the young people do it, that’s what we should do – help. He complained that the food thrown away by the shops “is kept under lock and key”: “I think that the food which is discarded should be given to charity, as it is done in France.
When asked why Food Not Bombs feeds only vegan food, the anarchists gave two arguments: firstly, plant food can feed the whole world and no one will go hungry, and secondly, raising livestock is very polluting to the environment. Because people do not believe in eating vegan food, anarchists are proving the opposite by their action, and promoting the idea of veganism.
There are now a total of two Food Not Bombs outlets in St. Petersburg: one at Vladimirskaya Street and a new one in Victory Park. The food distribution point on Vladimirskaya had not operated since spring 2015 and was only relaunched in December of that year. At the same time, given that the action had been taking place there for more than a decade, the activists first had to search for homeless people “all over Vladimirskaya”, hand out leaflets and tell them about “Food instead of bombs”.
According to the young people, forty percent of those who come to eat at Vladimirskaya Street are definitely homeless. The rest are old people, street vendors, begging by the cathedral. Snezhana considers the latter to be in the criminal business, but says she has no pity to feed them. Some “homeless people”, according to Serafima, often approach and ask for change instead of food.
“Well, do they really need food in that case? You want to help those in need, but people who masquerade as beggars also come up,” I ask.
“No, they don’t,” says Snezhana.
“But it’s not like we don’t know who’s mowing. It’s better to feed everyone than to pick and choose,” says Serafima.
“But giving with money I don’t see the point. I’d rather give with food. And if I want to help a person, I will tell him about Nochlezhka. If the person really wants to get out of the situation. You’ve fed him, he’s warmed up, it’s not that far to walk to Nochlezhka on Borovaya Street”, Snezhana reflects.
“We are going to print leaflets soon to hand them out. Nochlezhka has several locations around the city, but the homeless don’t know about it.
A collection truck was parked nearby; activists say that police officers stand there every time Food Not Bombs distributes food.
In previous years, the point on Vladimirska Street operated from autumn to spring. Partly because activists thought it was easier for homeless people to find food in the summer, and partly because the young people themselves were moving away. This year, Snezhana, “if she remains the manager”, plans to keep food distribution open during the summer months.
Each outlet gradually forms its own backbone, but it’s usually just a few people, the rest are come-and-goers. As the anarchists say, they try to get new people to participate in their actions – often anarchists, or other people of left-wing views. “It’s very important to me that people come to one or two actions, so I can add them to my permanent VKontakte dialogue. Because you come to the first action for the sake of the fan. The second time you come, you have already thought a little bit about whether you want it or not. Today I saw a man who knew about this initiative and found us on the Internet. But I can’t talk about the person – because this is the first time I’ve seen him. But when I see him a second or third time, then I will be able to draw conclusions,” says Snezhana.
Common passers-by often come to the distribution, attracted by the crowds at the benches, but when they get closer they leave, refusing the food offered. Some are spoken to by activists explaining the initiative. “In Victory Park, when we first started, very often ordinary passers-by would come up to us and say: ‘You guys are great. I’m not going to eat your food, you distribute it to those in need, but here’s a hundred roubles for next time. They asked how they could help, how they could get involved. Many, of course, do not believe that we do it ourselves. And sometimes it is different, people come up who try to convince us that we shouldn’t do it. Many tell us that we are wasting our time,” says Serafima.
“For some reason people think we are sponsored. There have even been times when they ask: “Well, you need it for accountability, don’t you?” And I have a punk friend standing there saying, “What reports? Who needs reports? We’re anarchists! Who do we have to report to?!”, Snezhana concludes.
“Hello! And we’re already out of food. The guys from the shop are coming and we’ll feed you,” said Snezhana to an old man with a thick beard, wearing a wool cap and an earflaps. He made a cloth and sat down on a concrete bench nearby. All the while two policemen were watching us, standing at the entrance to the metro station. There was a collection vehicle not far from them, and whether it’s coincidence or whether they come out on purpose, activists tell us that the policemen stand there every time Food Instead of Bombs hands out food.
“We’ve been kicked out a couple of times and told, “I have a right!” There are a lot of guys here with probation or criminal records and they don’t want to mess with the cops, so we have to leave. But when we have guys with legal training, they know what to say and the cops back off,” says Seema.
For the third time in a couple of hours Said raises the subject of registering Food Not Bombs as an organisation and setting up a social canteen. Snezhana argues that because of the high turnover of staff, it is sometimes impossible to get people together even for an action, let alone to work in the canteen permanently. In the end, the young people decided to confer with their elders and decide whether to register and take the FNB to the next level.
The following week, the anarchists’ action “Food instead of bombs” was kicked out of Vladimirskaya Square by the police. A senior policeman came up and said that the action was being held without permission from the administration, and that “feeding the homeless” should be done in specially designated places. In response to all of the activists’ arguments, he threatened: “Take everything away and go away. If you don’t, you’re disobeying a police officer.
The activists went to some far-away crossroads, where the police officer pointed them out. There were few homeless people on the day, none came to the crossing and the activists had to eat the food themselves. A grandfather in an earflaps hat was left on a concrete bench near Vladimirskaya Street to finish his meal: “Why did the police chase them away? What was the reason? Who are these people guarding us?! You can’t feed people here for one hour! Это какое-то безобразие. Никто не может защитить таких, как я. All sitting in their offices, bitches – let me tell you. And no one can protect people like me.
