THE Solovetsky stone stands in a small park opposite the headquarters of the Federal Security Service in Lubyanka Square. It was brought to Moscow in 1990 from a Stalin-era prison camp as a memorial to victims of Soviet repression. On December 15th some 2,000 people gathered around the stone for an anti-government protest called by opposition leaders, including Alexei Navalny, their biggest star, and Sergei Udaltsov, a fiery far-left activist. The demonstration did not have the official sanction of Moscow’s mayor, making it technically illegal.

That, along with the biting cold and a sense of frustration that marked the anniversary of the 2011 protests, meant the crowd was smaller than before. The protesters laid flowers on the Solovetsky stone and stood on the snowy square until they were forcibly squeezed out by riot police. Around 60 people were detained, though most were later released.

The protest was the first since the formation of an opposition co-ordinating council, a 45-strong body elected by online voting in October. The council was meant to make the opposition more coherent and transparent. Yet only 80,000 people voted in the online election. And the council has not made negotiations with city hall any smoother. Many members decided not to join the protest. Plenty are not paying their monthly $165 dues. Perhaps that is just democracy: messy, roundabout and not always efficient. But if it hopes to coalesce into a force capable of acting as a political opponent to the Kremlin, the council must show more tangible success soon.

Without a galvanising event like the fraudulent Duma election in December 2011, it is hard to pull people onto the streets. The opposition may do better with more tangible projects, including building a political party. Boris Akunin, a detective novelist who emerged as the protest movement’s moral conscience in 2011, deplores the idea of the Putin system collapsing overnight. He argues against a “peaceful revolution”, suggesting that a new civil society should seek incremental gains. He pleads for patience from supporters.

The state, however, may not be so patient. President Vladimir Putin speaks of dialogue only with unnamed “civilised” political forces that struggle for their demands “within the law”. Those who fall outside this category—for example, by staging an unsanctioned protest in front of the Lubyanka—face increasing pressure.

In the past week alone Mr Navalny, who has already been charged in connection with a separate fraud case, has faced two new criminal investigations. The first involves his brother in an alleged scheme to embezzle money through a mail-shipping company; the second centres on the sale of a distillery. His parents have also been questioned. Mr Navalny says the new cases are a “bright signal” to himself and others that “even if you think you’re brave enough to sit in prison, it’s not just you any more.” The strange new charges seem designed to show both the state’s capriciousness and its omnipotence.

Russia’s New Year holidays stretch into mid-January. In 2012 both the opposition and the state took an extended break. Mr Navalny and his family went to Mexico. In 2013 he won’t be going anywhere: his criminal charges stop him from crossing Moscow’s city limits.