Wall Street
Journal - 03.01.2006
Wall Street Journal
Why the Bear Growls
By Richard Pipes
Why do the Russians still give us trouble even though the Cold War has long ended? Why do they invite the terrorist Hamas leaders to Moscow? Why do they cut off natural gas to Ukraine and thereby reduce its flow to Western Europe? Why do they harass foreign non-governmental organizations, accusing them of espionage and incitement to revolution? Why do they carry out joint military exercises with the Chinese, clearly aimed at Taiwan?
There are many causes to account for such actions that range from noncooperation to outright hostility. Two stand out. One is Russia's inability to find for itself a proper place in the international community. This sense of isolation has deep historical roots. As a country professing Orthodox Christianity derived from Byzantium, Russians have always felt alienated from Catholic and Protestant Europe, not to speak of Islamic and Buddhist Asia.
Although religion today plays a much smaller role in politics than it did in the past, the sense of alienation persists in secular form. Public opinion polls indicate that the majority of Russians regard the West as an enemy and do not want to follow Western ways. The Russian press is filled with snide remarks about Europe and the United States and finds satisfaction in any unfavorable news emanating from there.
Even after the loss of its empire, Russia remains the largest country in the world. This spaciousness contributes to the sense of alienation. Russians take immense pride in the vastness of their land: They tend to think that they are not a country like the others, but a continent. They further believe that by virtue of their size they are entitled to superpower status and as such have a right to a decisive voice in world affairs. The Russian language promotes this illusion because the word velikii means both "large" and "great."
The other factor that reinforces the sense of isolation and hostility to the outside world has to do with Russia's antidemocratic, authoritarian tradition. Although during the Soviet era Russia was widely perceived as a radical country, its radicalism was confined to Marxist-Leninist slogans meant exclusively for export. In reality, it was a reactionary regime which had more in common with the autocracy of a Nicholas I or an Alexander III than with the socialist ideals of the radical intelligentsia.
The Russian political tradition is solidly conservative, so much so that even its Marxism acquired a conservative coloring. Until 1991, Russia had abandoned autocracy only twice in its history -- in the early 17th century and again in 1917 -- and in both cases the collapse of autocracy led not to a liberal regime but to anarchy, which resulted in the restoration of absolutism. The same process seems to be underway today.
Russians are to a remarkable extent depoliticized. They do not believe that ordinary people can have any influence over their government, which they view as a closed corporation of officials who look out for their own interests. Hence they dismiss democratic elections and procedures as fraud. What matters to them is not that the government reflects their preferences -- in their opinion, no government ever does -- but that it be strong and effective. Its main function is to preserve order. When asked by pollsters what is more important to them, order or freedom, three-fourths reply order, apparently assuming the two incompatible.
A factor which encourages this conception of good government is that Russians do not trust one another. Mutual trust, which is essential to the functioning of a civil society, is in very short supply. Except for their family and close friends, Russians tend to view one another as enemies. This perception, too, favors undemocratic government in that the majority of Russians rely on the authorities to protect them from their neighbors. They are not only depoliticized but also desocialized. Russia today, as in the past, consists of a multitude of tiny enclaves to which the government feels no responsibility and which expect very little from those who rule them. Judging by voting results, a mere 10% of Russians, mostly concentrated in large cities, hold Western views of the powers and duties of government.
The cause of this is in some measure the deliberate refusal of the post-communist regime to make a clean break with the Soviet past. Outside of the two capital cities, Moscow and St. Petersburg, the relics of the communist era are everywhere in evidence. There are countless Lenin statues scattered throughout the country, exhorting the people to march forward to communism. The streets are commonly named after communist events and heroes. President Putin recently adopted the old Soviet national anthem (with changed words) as that of the Russian Federation. In February each year the country celebrates the founding of the Red Army in 1918. No wonder that according to opinion polls, nearly one-third of Russians, presumably mostly residents of rural districts and small towns, are not aware that the Soviet regime no longer exists: They still continue to view it as "their" government.
These factors portend lasting trouble in Russia's relations with the outside world. Neither the Russian government nor the population at large is able to establish a
modus vivendi with the international community. They feel they are unique, that they are surrounded by enemies, that these enemies deny them their rightful place on the globe. The authorities encourage these feelings because they create a bond between them and their subjects that is otherwise very weakly developed.