IT WOULD seem to be a sensible step: following a tragic act of terrorism, a state passes new anti-terrorism laws. Yet in this case, the state in question is Russia, where any expansion of the security services’ purview is cause for concern, and the measures, known as the “Yarovaya Laws”, are so draconian that even Kremlin-friendly forces in parliament balked at voting for them. Human-rights activists have been raising the alarm. The NSA whistleblower Edward Snowden, still in Moscow exile, dubbed it the “Big Brother law”. And Russia’s own telecoms industry has complained that it could put service providers out of business. Nonetheless, Vladimir Putin signed it into law this month, and the provisions will take effect this week. Just what makes the Yarovaya Laws so controversial? The bill began ostensibly as a response to Islamic State’s (IS) downing of a Russian passenger jet over Egypt last autumn. Irina Yarovaya, a hawkish MP from Vladimir Putin’s ruling United Russia party, introduced sweeping measures to expand the power of the security services. Her initiative mashes together a range of repressive steps under the guise of fighting terrorism. One of the bill’s most controversial provisions makes the “failure to report a crime” into a crime itself. It also stiffens penalties for existing extremism statutes, and extends the list of crimes that minors (14 years or older) can be held accountable for. A second provision targets the digital space, requiring communications providers to store user data (including calls and messages) for at least six months, while making it accessible to the security services; it also gives the government the power to demand the keys to encrypted traffic. An initial draft of the legislation gave the government the power to strip citizenship from Russians serving in foreign armies or certain international organisations. It was stripped at the last minute, under heavy public pressure.

The law’s extraordinarily wide remit managed to alarm broad swathes of Russian society, including many normally loyal to the government. Human rights activists are particularly concerned. The measures contained will “severely undermine freedom of expression, freedom of conscience, and the right to privacy”, writes Tanya Lokshina of Human Rights Watch, a watchdog. The Russian authorities have already begun cracking down on internet users under the guise of existing anti-extremist laws, with dozens jailed last year for posts on social media. For the telecoms industry, the data-storage component may be a financial death knell, and major firms have been lobbying the Kremlin to reconsider. Simply building the infrastructure to store such vast amounts of information will cost billions of dollars a year.

Some are seeking solace in the fact that the law’s passage does not mean it will be fully implemented. Another law passed last year demanded that internet companies store Russian user data on Russian soil, but implementation has faltered as Western social-media giants have resisted complying. Yet when it comes to a crackdown, the Kremlin need not engage in mass repressions: targeted arrests are enough to spread fear. News of the measures alone deepened the atmosphere of apprehension ahead of this September’s parliamentary elections, the first since mass protests erupted in 2011. “It will not be used across the board”, says Maria Lipman, editor of Counterpoint, a journal, “but rather as yet another warning, another truncheon raised in the air.” Indeed, many believe that the law’s true targets are not Islamic terrorists, but those who might consider taking to the streets.