Kremlin Not Amused By Life of This Party

The National Bolsheviks revel in political pranks. Activists have squirted mayonnaise at the head of the Russian election commission and dumped orange juice on the coach of the country's soccer team, among other acts of what they call "food terrorism."

Another group of young people occupied offices in the Health Ministry last summer after forcing the building's evacuation when they arrived in fake uniforms and pretended to be the bomb squad. They then tossed a portrait of Putin out the window.

The state has responded harshly. As many as 50 party activists are in prison. And the defendants in the current trial face up to eight years in prison for their two-hour occupation, which ended when police stormed the building.

The party was founded in 1994 by Limonov and figures from what he calls the cultural avant-garde. The party's flag was adapted from Limonov's books and the group was initially regarded as a countercultural oddity with some neo-fascist and hard-line nationalist ideas.

Limonov had returned to Russia after years in exile in the United States and France following the collapse of the Soviet Union. He worked in Manhattan as a housekeeper for a wealthy family and later turned his misadventures in the city and his scathing take on American life into semi-autobiographical novels, such as "It's Me, Eddie," that were acclaimed in Paris.

Limonov now says the group has become a "classical left-wing party" that has shed its chauvinistic origins. His opponents in the government are unconvinced.

"If chauvinist, pro-fascist forces provoke an upsurge of Islamic extremism, it would pose a serious threat to the integrity of our multicultural state," Vladislav Surkov, deputy chief of staff in the Putin administration, said in an interview with the German magazine Der Spiegel. And some members make little attempt to hide their xenophobia. At a party meeting in Moscow this week, an activist visiting from Murmansk spoke bitterly about Chinese moving into his city and taking jobs from Russians.

Limonov was sentenced to four years in prison in 2001 for his part in what the state said was an attempt to foment a coup in Kazakhstan. He was released after 2 1/2 years, a period in which he wrote eight books, including his reflections on 52 leading world figures, from Mao to Marilyn Monroe.

"I became wiser and more tolerant," Limonov said of his time in prison. "Prison is a good school of life."

Such sentiments infuriate the parents and friends of some of the young people who could face long prison sentences for the antics he dreams up. "I'm very angry with him," said Natalia Lind, whose 23-year-old son, Vladimir, a former philosophy student in St. Petersburg, is on trial. "These kids are like steppingstones for him."

Limonov rejects the allegation, but the party, on the back of its activists' willingness to confront the state, has forced its way into the middle of Russia's fragmented opposition. The National Bolsheviks are now forming loose alliances with the youth wings of the Russian Communist Party and the reformist Yabloko party.

Limonov sees his young charges as the opposition's street vanguard during the parliamentary elections in 2007 and the presidential election in 2008. He said he admired the tactics of the protesters whose Orange Revolution toppled the old regime in Ukraine but is no fan of the country's new president, Viktor Yushchenko. At a party meeting this week, Limonov sported a T-shirt with the words "For Ukraine without Yushchenko."

"We need a confrontation with Putin, and that is easy to organize, but only with a union of opposition forces," Limonov said. The Kremlin, in response, has organized its own youth group called Nashi, or Ours, which organizers said will take to the streets to defend the existing order in the event of any kind anti-establishment revolt in Russia.

Limonov relishes the prospect of a showdown. And he professes little worry that he might face another, longer term in prison. Laughing, he said, "I've still got my green card."