All of our sources for today come from a western perspective. Yet insofar as there is such a thing as a national character, we see the Russian one very clearly, especially in Tayler’s article. The demise of the hope spot that briefly appeared after the Soviet Union collapsed seemed to be the final straw for a deep-seated sense of resignation among the Russian populace. While Tayler was optimistic about Russia’s prospects of integrating into the West in the early 90s, his Russian acquaintance Lena said “that Russians were, above all, an unpredictable people, given to wild swings and dangerous extremes, lacking the patience and adherence to principle that democracy demanded” (Tayler). Over the next 2 decades, she seemed to have been proven right, as Yeltsin and his “shock therapy” gave way to the tandem of Putin and Medvedev. Capitalism was not working in Russia because of the way Yeltsin’s policies opened the door to corruption: “It is impossible to operate a business successfully in Russia and also observe all the laws, because… twenty different levies on the books would tax a company as much as 105 percent if they were paid; businesses must evade taxes to at least some extent or go bankrupt” (Tayler). Hence, getting around the law seems legitimate and even appealing: in a country with few opportunities for small business, “mafiyozy became role models for many of the young” (Tayler). Those who were not satisfied by the idea of becoming career criminals and could not or would not leave the country turned to groups like Da!, which “set out to engage an emerging generation of Russians who were too young to have experienced the end of Communism and had come of age in a wealthier, more apathetic time… One key component was the hosting of debates… ‘because there are no free debates and no free media… To our surprise, it was a super-popular project’” (Ioffe, 28).
Putin’s image as a strongman did not seem to carry over into domestic policy the way it has with foreign policy, as the mafiya continued to flourish openly under him. Russians thought of their government and the mafiya in the same terms: “’Those government thieves aren’t getting any of my money!’ summarizes the feelings of Russians toward taxes and their state. When Russians talk of politicians, they frequently speak of “thieves”, “bandits” and “swindlers” – and not hyperbolically” (Tayler). However, this type of thinking is by no means recent: “The hostility that Russians feel toward their government comes not from some innate lack of civic duty but from the terror, violence, and deceit that have since the late Middle Ages characterized the way in which their rulers have treated them” (Tayler).
Tayler summarizes Russia’s transition thusly: “During the Cold War… Russians I came to know spoke of the future of their country as if it would be the fate of humanity, and I agreed with them… within a few decades Russia will concern the rest of the world no more than any Third World country with abundant resources, an impoverished people, and a corrupt government. In short, as a Great Power, Russia is finished.” The Soviet Union may have hovered on the verge of economic collapse for decades, but at least it gave its citizens a sense of worldwide significance. Today, westerners look at Russia with fascination, confusion, pity, and a vague sense of fear, but not as the existential threat to our values and lives that it had been for nearly half a century. So we are back to the question we have been dancing around all semester: should the west give up on Russia, and should Russia give up on itself?
As was already mentioned, most of our secondary sources regarding Russia come to us through the lens of a Western perspective — naturally, growing up fully immersed in Western culture, it would be difficult or impossible to view Russia’s culture and history through a purely Russian lens. Jeffrey Tayler opens his article by saying “during the Cold War years I perceived Russia through a Cold War prism” (Tayler, Web). Living in the U.S, and especially post-Cold War, most of the information in the media regarding Russia has had undertones of Russia either being a threat, or being a struggling nation that needs our wisdom and help. Either way, the narrative always seems to involve an air of Western superiority. Tayler recalls going to Moscow with the perspective that “Yeltsin had just prevailed in a national referendum that granted him a mandate to continue his free-market and democratization reforms. History in Russia was beginning anew. What needed to be changed would be changed; problems that needed solving were going to be solved” (Tayler, Web). His perspective followed the largely subconscious notion that the “West knows better” — a notion that the failure of Yeltsin’s policies would seem to challenge. Tayler describes the shock of Western expatriate businessmen upon their arrival in Russia, asking “where was the reforming Russia that would let them get rich while preaching the gospel of the free market to reverent native subordinates?” (Tayler, Web). It seems clear that Western arrogance has not been working for Russia.
In the history we have read, a clear pattern has emerged: when Russian leaders look outward to attempt to mimic other countries, the people seem to crave a more collective national identity, but when Russia looks inward to create a sense of National pride, problems arise with the development of highly powerful and oppressive cults-of-personality. Tayler mentions that “while Europe enjoyed the Renaissance, the Reformation, and the Enlightenment, Russia, isolated and infused with a messianic sense of its own superiority over the West, suffered the predations of rulers bent on building a strong state” (Taylor, Web). This feeling seems to have continued, even centuries later, and emerged through various rulers throughout history. Both Russia and the West seem to feel they alone have the answer Russia’s problems, but Russia seems to crave a feeling of national pride that does not appear able to emerge from Western guidance.
The question to ask, then, is not so much whether Russia should give up on itself, or whether the West should give up on Russia, but whether the West has all the answers, and should impose those answers onto Russia. It is often the case that the West, and especially the United States in recent history, attempts to ‘enlighten backwards countries’ with notions of free market capitalism, and leaves the country less stable than it was originally — Yeltsin’s failure is one example of this. One could argue that the answer for fixing Russia should not, and can not, come from the West; that it needs to come from Russia, and, as the Slavophiles kept saying, must “develop organically”. Yet, this also runs the risk of turning into militant nationalism, or following the same messianistic drive that produced leaders like Ivan the Terrible, Stalin, and Putin. Really, there is no easy answer.
Like the rest of the world, Russia needs a fundamental shift: another social, political, and cultural revolution. But, like the rest of the world, there are no simple, one-size-fits-all solutions for Russia’s problems. The only thing we can know for sure is that nothing is permanent, and that we will see things change.