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Este blog trata basicamente de ideias, se possível inteligentes, para pessoas inteligentes. Ele também se ocupa de ideias aplicadas à política, em especial à política econômica. Ele constitui uma tentativa de manter um pensamento crítico e independente sobre livros, sobre questões culturais em geral, focando numa discussão bem informada sobre temas de relações internacionais e de política externa do Brasil. Para meus livros e ensaios ver o website: www.pralmeida.org. Para a maior parte de meus textos, ver minha página na plataforma Academia.edu, link: https://itamaraty.academia.edu/PauloRobertodeAlmeida.

Mostrando postagens com marcador Adrian Karatnycky. Mostrar todas as postagens
Mostrando postagens com marcador Adrian Karatnycky. Mostrar todas as postagens

quinta-feira, 28 de março de 2024

Russia Is Back to the Stalinist Future - Adrian Karatnycky Foreign Policy

 Essay

Russia Is Back to the Stalinist Future

With a Soviet-style election, Vladimir Putin’s Russia has come full circle.

By Adrian Karatnycky, a senior fellow at the Atlantic Council and the founder of Myrmidon

FOREIGN POLICY, MARCH 24, 2024

https://foreignpolicy.com/2024/03/24/russia-putin-stalin-soviet-election-war-repression-political-prisoners/?utm_source=Sailthru&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=World%20Brief%20-%2003272024&utm_term=world_brief

 

In 1968, the American scholar Jerome M. Gilison described Soviet elections as a “psychological curiosity”—a ritualized, performative affirmation of the regime rather than a real vote in any sense of the word. These staged elections with their nearly unanimous official results, Gilison wrote, served to isolate non-conformists and weld the people to their regime.

Last Sunday, Russia completed the circle and returned to Soviet practice. State election officials reported that 87 percent of Russians had cast their vote for Vladimir Putin in national elections, giving the Russian president a fifth term in office. Not only were many of the reported election numbers mathematically impossible, but there was also no longer much of a choice: All prominent opposition figures had been either murderedimprisoned, or exiled. Like in Soviet times, the election also welded Russians to their regime by serving as a referendum on Putin’s war against Ukraine. All in all, last weekend’s Soviet-style election sealed Putin’s transformation of post-Communist Russia into a repressive society with many of the features of Soviet totalitarianism.

Russia’s return to Soviet practice goes far beyond elections. A recent study by exiled Russian journalists from Proekt Media used data to determine that Russia is more politically repressive today than the Soviet Union under all leaders since Joseph Stalin. During the last six years, the study reports, the Putin regime has indicted 5,613 Russians on explicitly political charges—including “discrediting the army,” “disseminating misinformation,” “justification of terrorism,” and other purported crimes, which have been widely used to punish criticism of Russia’s war on Ukraine and justification of Ukraine’s defense of its territory. This number is significantly greater than in any other six-year period of Soviet rule after 1956—all the more glaring given that Russia’s population is only half that of the Soviet Union before its collapse.

 

In addition to repressive criminal charges and sentences, over the last six years more than 105,000 people have been tried on administrative charges, which carry heavy fines and compulsory labor for up to 30 days without appeal. Many of these individuals were punished for taking part in unsanctioned marches or political activity, including anti-war protests. Others were charged with violations of COVID pandemic regulations. Such administrative punishments are administered and implemented rapidly, without time for an appeal.

On March 4, 2022, a little over a week after the Russian invasion of Ukraine began, Russia’s puppet parliament rapidly adopted amendments to the Russian Criminal Code and Criminal Procedure Code that established criminal and administrative punishments for the vague transgressions of “discrediting” the Russian military or disseminating “false information” about it. This widely expanded the repressive powers of the state to criminally prosecute political beliefs and activity. Prosecutions have surged since the new laws were passed, likely leading to a dramatic increase in the number of political prisoners in the coming years. In particular, punishments for “discrediting the army” or “justification of terrorism”—which includes voicing support for Ukraine’s right to defend itself—have resulted in hundreds of sentences meted out each year since the war began. The most recent such case: On Feb. 27, the 70-year-old co-chairman of the Nobel Peace Prize-winning human rights group Memorial, Oleg Orlov, was sentenced to two and a half years in prison for “discrediting” the Russian military.

As the Proekt report ominously concludes, “[I]n terms of repression, Putin has long ago surpassed almost all Soviet general secretaries, except for one—Joseph Stalin.” While this conclusion is in itself significant, it is only the tip of the iceberg of the totalitarian state Putin has gradually and systematically rebuilt.

As in the Soviet years, there is no independent media in Russia today. The last of these news organizations were banned or fled the country after Putin’s all-out war on Ukraine, including Proekt, Meduza, Ekho Moskvy, Nobel Prize-winning Novaya Gazeta, and TV Dozhd. In their place, strictly regime-aligned newspapers, social media, and television and radio stations emit a steady drumbeat of militaristic propaganda, promote Russian imperialist grandeur, and celebrate Putin as the country’s infallible commander in chief. In another reprise of totalitarian practice, lists of banned books have been dramatically expanded and thousands of titles have been removed from the shelves of Russian libraries and bookstores. Bans have been extended to numerous Wikipedia pages, social media channels, and websites.

Human rights activists and independent civic leaders have been jailed, physically attacked, intimidated into silence, or driven into exile. Civic organizations that show independence from the state are banned as “undesirable” and subjected to fines and prosecution if they continue to operate. The most recent such organizations include the Andrei Sakharov Foundation, Memorial, the legendary Moscow Helsinki Group, and the EU-Russia Civil Society Forum. In their place, the state finances a vast array of pro-regime and pro-war groups, with significant state resources supporting youth groups that promote the cult of Putin and educate children in martial values to prepare them for military service. Then there are the numerous murders of opposition leaders, journalists, and activists at home and abroad. Through these various means, almost all critical Russian voices have been silenced.

Private and family life is also increasingly coming under the scope of government regulation and persecution. The web of repression particularly affects the LGBT community, putting large numbers of Russians in direct peril. A court ruling in 2023 declared the “international LGBT movement” extremist and banned the rainbow flag as a forbidden symbol, which was quickly followed by raids and arrests. Homosexuality has been reclassified as an illness, and Russian gay rights organizations have shut down their operations for fear of prosecution. Legislation aimed at reinforcing “traditional values”—including the right of husbands to discipline their wives—has led to the reduction in sentences and the decriminalization of some forms of domestic violence.

Many of the techniques of totalitarian control now operating throughout Russia were first incubated in territories where the Kremlin spread war and conflict. Chechnya was the first testing ground for widespread repression, including massive numbers of victims subjected to imprisonment, execution, disappearance, torture, and rape. Coupled with the merciless targeting of civilians in Russia’s two wars in Chechnya, these practices normalized wanton criminal behavior within Russian state security structures. Out of this crucible of fear and intimidation, Putin has shaped a culture and means of governing that were further elaborated in other places Russia invaded and eventually came to Russia itself.

In Russian-occupied Crimea and eastern Ukraine since 2014, there has been a widespread campaign of surveillance, summary executions, arrests, torture, and intimidation—all entirely consistent with Soviet practice toward conquered populations. More recently, this includes the old practice of forced political recantations: A Telegram channel ominously called Crimean SMERSH (a portmanteau of the Russian words for “death to spies,” coined by Stalin himself) has posted dozens of videos of frightened Ukrainians recanting their Ukrainian identity or the display of Ukrainian symbols. Made in conjunction with police operations, these videos appear to be coordinated with state security services.

In the parts of Ukraine newly occupied since 2022, human rights groups have widely documented human rights abuses and potential war crimes. These include the abduction of children, imprisonment of Ukrainians in a system of filtration camps that recall the Soviet gulags, and the systematic use of rape and torture to break the will of Ukrainians. Castrations of Ukrainian men have also been employed.

As Russia’s violence in Ukraine has expanded, so, too, has the acceptance of these abominations throughout the state and in much of society. As during the Stalin era, the cult of cruelty and the culture of fear are now the legal and moral standards. The climate of fear initially employed to assert order in occupied regions is now being applied to Russia itself. In this context, the murder of Alexei Navalny ahead of the presidential election was an important message from Putin to the Russian people: There is no longer any alternative to the war and repressive political order he has imposed, of which Navalny’s elimination is a part.

All the techniques and means of repression bespeak a criminal regime that now closely resembles the totalitarian rule of Stalin, whom Putin now fully embraces. After Putin first came to power in 1999, he often praised Stalin as a great war leader while disapproving of his cruelty and brutality. But as Putin pivoted toward war and repression, Russia has systematically promoted a more positive image of Stalin. High school textbooks not only celebrate his legacy but also whitewash his terror regime. There has been a proliferation of new Stalin monuments, with more than 100 throughout the country today. On state-controlled media, Russian propagandists consistently hammer away on the theme of Stalin’s greatness and underscore similarities between his wartime leadership and Putin’s. Discussion of Stalinist terror has disappeared, as has the memorialization of his millions of victims. Whereas only one in five Russians had a positive view of Stalin in the 1990s, polls conducted over the last five years show that number has risen to between 60 percent and 70 percent. In normalizing Stalin, Putin is not glossing over the tyrant’s crimes; rather, he is deliberately normalizing Stalin as a justification for his own war-making and repression.

Putin now resembles Stalin more closely than any other Soviet or Russian leader. Unlike Nikita Khrushchev, Leonid Brezhnev, Konstantin Chernenko, and Yuri Andropov—not to mention Mikhail Gorbachev and Boris Yeltsin—Putin has unquestioned power that is not shared or limited in any way by parliament, courts, or a Politburo. State propaganda has created a Stalin-like personality cult that lionizes Putin’s absolute power, genius as a leader, and role as a brilliant wartime generalissimo. It projects him as the fearsome and all-powerful head of a militarized nation aiming, like Stalin, to defeat a “Nazi” regime in Ukraine and reassert hegemony over Eastern and Central Europe. Just as Stalin made effective use of the Russian Orthodox Church to support Russia’s effort during World War II, Putin has effectively used Russian Orthodox Patriarch Kirill as a critical ally and cheerleader of Russia’s brutal war in Ukraine. And just like Stalin, Putin has made invading neighboring countries and annexing territory a central focus of the Kremlin’s foreign policy.

Putin’s descent into tyranny has been accompanied by his gradual isolation from the rest of society. Like the latter-day Stalin, Putin began living an isolated life as a bachelor even before the COVID-19 pandemic hit. Like the later Stalin, Putin lacks a stable family life and is believed to have replaced it with a string of mistresses, some of whom are reported to have borne him children for whom he remains a remote figure. Like Stalin, he stays up late into the early-morning hours, and like the Soviet dictator, Putin has assembled around him a small coterie of trusted intimates, mostly men in their 60s and 70s, with whom he has maintained friendships for decades, including businessmen Yury Kovalchuk and Igor Sechin, Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu, and security chief Nikolai Patrushev. This coterie resembles Stalin’s small network of cronies: security chief Lavrentiy Beria, military leader Kliment Voroshilov, and Communist Party official Georgy Malenkov. To others in leadership positions, Putin is a distant, absolute leader who openly humiliates seemingly powerful officials, such as spy chief Sergey Naryshkin, when the latter seemed to hesitate in his support during Putin’s declaration of war on Ukraine.

Through near-total control of domestic civic life and media, his widening campaign of repression and terror, relentless state propaganda promoting his personality cult, and his vast geopolitical ambitions, Putin is consciously mimicking the Stalin playbook, especially the parts of that playbook dealing with World War II. Even if Putin has no love for Soviet Communist ideology, he has transformed Russia and its people in ways that are no less fundamental than Stalin’s efforts to shape a new Soviet man.

Putin’s massive victory in a Soviet-style election last weekend represents the ratification by the Russian people of his brutal war, militarization of Russian society, and establishment of a totalitarian dictatorship. It is a good moment to acknowledge that Russia’s descent into tyranny, mobilization of society onto a war footing, spread of hatred for the West, and indoctrination of the population in imperialist tropes represent far more than a threat to Ukraine. Russia’s transformation into a neo-Stalinist, neo-imperialist power represents a rising threat to the United States, its European allies, and other states on Russia’s periphery. By recognizing how deeply Russia has changed and how significantly Putin is borrowing from Stalin’s playbook, we can better understand that meeting the modern-day Russian threat will require as much consistency and as deep a commitment as when the West faced down Stalin’s Soviet Union at the height of the Cold War.

ARTICLES BY ADRIAN KARATNYCKY

A protester sits on a monument in central Kyiv during the Maidan uprising on Feb. 20, 2014.
A protester sits on a monument in central Kyiv during the Maidan uprising on Feb. 20, 2014.
A woman poses for a photo in front of a tall decorated Christmas tree in front of a war-damanged building in Melitopol in Ukraine's Zaporizhzhia region with a Russian flag flying from a tall pole overhead.
A woman poses for a photo in front of a tall decorated Christmas tree in front of a war-damanged building in Melitopol in Ukraine's Zaporizhzhia region with a Russian flag flying from a tall pole overhead.
A man suspected to be a Russian collaborator is seen facing away through a slightly open doorway with his hands cuffed behind his back during an operation in Ukraine. He is inside a home with ornate wallpaper and wall hangings, including a calendar with a pinup girl and a framed image of Jesus.
A man suspected to be a Russian collaborator is seen facing away through a slightly open doorway with his hands cuffed behind his back during an operation in Ukraine. He is inside a home with ornate wallpaper and wall hangings, including a calendar with a pinup girl and a framed image of Jesus.
Russian President Vladimir Putin and U.S. President Barack Obama chat after a bilateral meeting at the G-20 summit in Los Cabos, Mexico.
Russian President Vladimir Putin and U.S. President Barack Obama chat after a bilateral meeting at the G-20 summit in Los Cabos, Mexico.
A poster of Russian President Vladimir Putin is used as target practice near Zolote, Ukraine, on Jan. 21, 2022.
A poster of Russian President Vladimir Putin is used as target practice near Zolote, Ukraine, on Jan. 21, 2022.
Russians protest against President Vladimir Putin's government at Pushkin Square in Moscow on Jan. 23.
Russians protest against President Vladimir Putin's government at Pushkin Square in Moscow on Jan. 23.
Viktor Medvedchuk gives a speech in Ukraine.
Viktor Medvedchuk gives a speech in Ukraine.
Volodymyr Zelensky arrives at the United Nations General Assembly in New York City.
Volodymyr Zelensky arrives at the United Nations General Assembly in New York City.
Top U.S. diplomat in Ukraine William Taylor and Deputy Assistant Secretary for European and Eurasian Affairs George Kent are sworn in prior to testifying before the House Intelligence Committee in Washington on Nov. 13.
Top U.S. diplomat in Ukraine William Taylor and Deputy Assistant Secretary for European and Eurasian Affairs George Kent are sworn in prior to testifying before the House Intelligence Committee in Washington on Nov. 13.
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502370482 crop



quinta-feira, 23 de março de 2023

Can Russia Ever Become a ‘Normal’ European Nation? - Adrian Karatnycky (Foreign Policy)

Can Russia Ever Become a ‘Normal’ European Nation?

Ironically, a defeat by Ukraine could trigger Russians to reexamine their national identity.

By Adrian Karatnycky, a senior fellow at the Atlantic Council and the founder of Myrmidon Group.

Foreign Policy, February 20, 2023


Can Russia become a normal nation-state following the pattern of other European countries and former empires—and abandon half a millennium of imperial conquest and propaganda? Because the imperial mindset has been intertwined with the Russian sense of nationhood for so long, such a change is unlikely to come from within. Ironically, it is the Ukrainians, who, by handing the imperial center a decisive defeat, can trigger a reexamination of Russia’s national identity. Only in defeat will Russians have a chance to refocus their country’s priorities away from empire and toward a domestic agenda of economic, social, and democratic development.


A Russian sense of nationhood focused on reform at home instead of domination over non-Russians had a brief shining moment in the waning days of the Soviet Union. Around 1990, a group of reformist politicians in Moscow, Leningrad (now St. Petersburg), and other major Russian cities organized around a liberal, patriotic agenda in the Democratic Russia movement. The movement’s leaders—such as the human rights activist Lev Ponomaryov, the civic activist Mikhail Astafyev, the Orthodox priest Gleb Yakunin, and soon-to-be-Moscow-Mayor Gavriil Popov—articulated an agenda of domestic reform that sought to repair the damage that 70 years of communist dictatorship had inflicted on the Russian people. Leaders of this nascent movement were the first to unfurl the Russian tricolor at the Congress of People’s Deputies of the Russian Socialist Federative Soviet Republic (RSFSR), one of the Soviet Union’s 15 constituent republics. Most people have forgotten it, but the modern Russian flag actually started as a symbol of liberalism and resistance—led by Boris Yeltsin, then the president of the newly formed Russian republic—to the August 1991 coup attempt by military hard-liners seeking to quash reforms and restore the Soviet dictatorship.


The Democratic Russia movement’s moderate agenda coincided with Yeltsin’s political ambitions—including his desire to undermine the central Soviet apparatus and transfer power to the Russian republic he was leading at the time. Yeltsin’s inner circle included influential anti-imperial patriots, such as Gennady Burbulis, one of the drafters of the accords that dissolved the Soviet Union, and Galina Starovoitova, a former dissident. Liberal nationalists, led by economic reformer Yegor Gaidar, then went on to found the Democratic Choice of Russia party, which won 18 percent of the seats in the Russian parliamentary elections of 1993 and became a key part of Yeltsin’s coalition.

In the first years of the country’s post-Soviet independence, Yeltsin promoted the idea of Russia as the homeland of the Russian people. Although he hoped to bind all 15 independent post-Soviet states to each other in a confederation, Yeltsin worked constructively with neighboring non-Russian states, ultimately recognizing their sovereignty. With the exception of Russian support for separatist movements in newly independent Georgia and Moldova, Yeltsin generally avoided destabilizing territorial disputes outside Russia’s borders. Soviet symbols and references to the Russian Empire were jettisoned. In their place came a focus on building state and civic institutions, including political parties, trade unions, veterans organizations, environmental groups, and cultural associations. Instead of the Soviet national anthem, Russsia used the “Patriotic Song,” a melody by the classical composer Mikhail Glinka, without any accompanying lyrics.

But powerful revanchist and chauvinist imperial forces never went away. Their most prominent public voice was a powerful conservative opposition in the Russian Duma that nearly toppled Yeltsin in a bid to replace him with his own vice president, Alexander Rutskoy. Imperialist ideas also retained strength in the security services, whose influence grew amid political ferment among Russia’s many ethnic minorities. Amid the economic hardships of a difficult transition from Soviet rule—and as Chechnya’s drive for independence pitted Russians against non-Russians—the influence and popularity of the liberal nationalists eroded. In their place, Yeltsin gradually allowed hard-liners with imperial ideas to return to positions of influence. These hard-liners convinced Yeltsin that Chechnya’s secessionists should be crushed by force.


The imperial hard-liners’ total victory came in 1999 with the appointment of Vladimir Putin as Yeltsin’s prime minister and designated successor as president. Putin moved quickly to redefine Russia and reawaken its sense of imperial grandeur. In 2000, he jettisoned Yeltsin’s national anthem, restored the melody of the Soviet anthem, and added new lyrics with an imperial twist, celebrating Russia as the “age-old union of fraternal peoples.”

Today, there is little impetus for a Russian patriotic movement focused on domestic development. Even among what’s left of the opposition, there are few voices trying to convince Russians to build a future within the country’s recognized borders. Even the imprisoned opposition activist Alexey Navalny, while he has spoken out against the war, argues that Crimea belongs to Russia and is unapologetic for having used ethnic slurs against Russia’s national minorities. He has also spoken with regret about the separation of the Orthodox Ukrainians from Moscow and blames Putin for destroying the prospects for a “Russian world”—Russkiy mir—that reaches far beyond Russia’s borders, an ideological construct promoted by far-right Russian nationalists and used by Putin and his media mouthpieces to justify Russia’s genocidal denial of Ukrainian nationhood. Navalny and most other Russian opposition figures focus their attention on the state’s authoritarian rule and rampant corruption rather than the fundamental values—such as respect for sovereign countries’ borders and choices—that could lay the foundation of a post-imperial national identity.

Only a clear, unambiguous triumph by Ukrainians asserting their distinct national identity could help Russians transition to a post-imperial civic identity. By forcefully demonstrating that Ukrainians are in no way part of the Russian nation, they are already having important effects on many Russians’ understanding of their relationship to the nations beyond their border. Ukrainian resistance and unity has created impossible challenges for Russian propaganda about the so-called Russian world. Their solution has been to frame the war as Russia’s fight against NATO and the imaginary cabal of Nazis that have supposedly taken over Ukraine, but every battlefield defeat at the hands of better-organized and better-motivated Ukrainians pokes another hole in the Kremlin’s false narrative.


By compelling Russians to embrace a national narrative stripped of imperialism, a Ukrainian victory can help ensure a better future for Russia as well.

There are precedents for Russians changing their view of who belongs to the imperial Russian world. In the 19th century, when much of Poland was part of the Russian Empire, the Kremlin viewed Poles as a nation that was to undergo cultural, educational, and religious Russification. Count Sergei Uvarov, the Russian Empire’s education minister from 1833 to 1849, believed Poles could be transformed into Russians within one generation. But a series of Polish rebellions taught Russia that the forced assimilation of Poles would not work. Russians learned, as they are being taught by the Ukrainians today, that Poles were indeed a separate nation unwilling to lose its culture and identity.

Ukrainians, too, have rebelled against the Russians throughout their history—including under a succession of Cossack Ukrainian hetmans in the 17th and 18th centuries. The story of Ukrainians’ resistance to Russian rule—and ultimately independence—has to do with the fact that their nation has had a separate, Western-influenced history and identity from Russia’s for many centuries. But unlike the Poles’ fierce resistance to Russia, Ukrainian resistance was of insufficient duration and intensity to rid Russians of their illusions that Ukrainians—first called “little Russians” in the tsarist era as a way to erase their nationhood—were indeed a separate people with a separate language and culture. Only by winning this war will Ukrainians finally be able to drive home to Russians what is clear to Ukrainians and just about everyone else: Ukraine is not Russia.

Discussions of Russia’s future have focused primarily on two scenarios—the removal of Putin and his replacement with a more pragmatic leadership, and Russia’s collapse into several states as its internal fractures can no longer be papered over by a common enemy and an authoritarian regime. Neither scenario, however, ensures long-lasting security for Ukraine and other countries formerly in the Soviet sphere. There is no security against Russia if the country and its people do not shed their imperial mindset and become a “normal” European nation-state. Ukrainians desperately want to live next to a normal Russia whose elite and citizenry accept their country’s borders and Ukraine’s right to statehood as a distinct nation.

Even if Ukraine prevails with Western help, Russia’s imperial instincts are unlikely to vanish completely. Imperial collapse usually leaves a long trail of resentment—just look at France’s loss of Algeria in 1962, which remains a point of contestation in the national memory and a source of mobilization for the far right. Still, imperial nations usually—even if only gradually—reconcile with the sovereignty of their former colonies. If Russia is stopped in Ukraine, there is ample reason to believe it will eventually follow this well-trodden path. But the abandonment of empire has almost always required defeat.

There is one glaring issue, however, that makes Russian imperialism different: It is really two imperialisms—the former external empire beyond its borders and Moscow’s internal empire consisting of dozens, if not hundreds, of conquered and colonized non-Russian peoples. Russia includes numerous subnational republics and other political units where a non-Russian ethnic group forms a clear—or even overwhelming—majority, including Bashkortostan, Chechnya, Dagestan, Ingushetiya, Kalmykia, Sakha, and Tatarstan. While a complete dissolution of Russia is unlikely, many of these regions—some with vast natural resources—have the potential for national mobilization, especially in cases where ethnic Russians are only a small minority. This, in turn, can reinforce chauvinist trends inside the Russian Federation for years to come and withdraw support from moderates, liberals, and anti-imperialists.


Putin has long argued that Ukraine is an essential part of Russian history and identity. In ways he did not anticipate, events may soon prove him right: A victory in which Ukraine reclaims control over its territories and successfully defends its national and European identity can become a crucial factor in pushing Russians onto a path of normal development previously trod by other European peoples and post-colonial states. By compelling Russians to embrace a national narrative stripped of imperialism—a narrative that seeks to build a civic state rooted in a clear national identity within its sovereign boundaries—Ukrainians can help ensure not only their own and the region’s security, but a better future for Russia as well.


Adrian Karatnycky is a senior fellow at the Atlantic Council and the founder of Myrmidon Group.