First came the Chechens, then ethnic Georgians, and then maverick journalists. But now Russia's cracking down on a different social group, a demographic they see threatening the very future of their country. These rebels have pierced lips, ridiculous haircuts and too much eyeshadow. They're barbarians in bowler hats, leather jackets and torn-up tights. Yes, emo has come to Russia – and its leaders want no part of it.
Last month the State Duma held a hearing on "Government Strategy in the Sphere of Spiritual and Ethical Education", a piece of legislation aimed at curbing "dangerous teen trends". There, without a clue in the world, social conservatives lumped "emos" together with skinheads, pushing for heavy regulation of emo websites and the banning of emo and goth fashion from schools and government buildings.
"The point of the bill is so that by 2020, Moscow will have someone to rule its government," explained Alexander Grishunin, an adviser to bill sponsor Yevgeny Yuryev, apparently without irony. "This is the first step in the public discourse."
Yuryev and his allies hope to pass the legislation before the end of the year.
Emo music emerged from Washington, DC in the mid-1980s, offering an "emotional" take on hardcore punk. The genre saw a rebirth in the late 1990s and 2000s, adopting elements of glam and goth culture, and integrating a stronger pop influence. Bands like My Chemical Romance and Dashboard Confessional hit Moscow record shops in 2003, and before long teens with dark lipstick and shoulder bags were lounging glumly at the All-Russia Exhibition Centre and Pushkin Square.
The new bill describes "emos" as 12-16 year-olds with black and pink clothing, studded belts, painted fingernails, ear and eyebrow piercings, and black hair with fringes that "cover half the face". Emo culture's "negative ideology" may encourage depression, social withdrawal and even suicide, the bill alleges – with young girls being particularly vulnerable.
"Of course, there are emo teens who just listen to their music. But our actions are not directed at them but rather at those who also hurt themselves, commit suicide and promote those acts," bill co-author Igor Ponkin explained to the Moscow Times. Though we are not certain how Ponkin intends to target people who have committed suicide, he certainly seems determined.
Emo-lovers insist that there is nothing wrong with being gloomy and wearing strange clothes. "Expressing psychological emotions is not forbidden by law," underlined Dmitry Gilevich of the Russian emo band MAIO.
In the UK, emo kids took to the streets to protest their portrayal in the media, particularly tabloid allegations that emo music had compelled otherwise sunny teens into committing suicide. In Russia, the stakes are even higher – at protests this weekend, teenagers were speaking out against lawmakers who equate their fashion sense, and their community, with criminality and Nazism.
Dozens of black-clad music fans marched in Krasnoyarsk, Siberia, where the government is fast-tracking anti-emo legislation. "How can you stop people from expressing themselves, from dressing how they like, from living a way of life that doesn't harm anyone?" one protester asked on REN TV. Others held placards saying "Kill the State in Yourself" and "A Totalitarian State Encourages Stupidity", both of which would make terrific emo song titles.
And while we would hope that Russian music nerds would rally around persecuted emo fans, their plight so similar to history's arbitrary, vaguely homophobic crackdowns on disco, hippies and early rockers, many music-lovers are still accusing the genre of selling out. "It used to be honest and real," bemoaned Russian musician Sergei Vel. "Now it all faded and merged into the mainstream."
Not to worry, Sergei – if Russian legislators have their way, emo will be excised from the mainstream like a melancholy, pierced, black-shellacked cancer.