Jan Raczynski
I want to start this conversation not with the current historical policy of the Russian authorities, but with one circumstance that is often overlooked. When looking at the post-Soviet countries, and more broadly at the former socialist countries, the question arises: why did some countries succeed in their transition to democracy, even with reservations, while others failed? Why is it that in some countries society has learned to change power, while in others it lives under unchangeable usurpers?
Why, with a very significant number of popular democratic figures in the years of perestroika – perhaps more than anywhere else – has real political life failed to emerge in Russia? In my opinion, the main reason is that in Russia the Soviet regime lasted a full 70 years. The countries of the so-called people’s democracies, the Baltic states, were relatively lucky – they had this rule continuously for only 40 years, since the end of the war.
Why is it important? Because at the beginning of the changes in these countries people who remembered a different structure of society and power were still alive and active. People who were 20 years old at the beginning of the Soviet regime and 60 by the end. Everything they knew did not come from books and other people’s stories, it was their lived everyday experience. In Russia, people who remembered pre-Soviet life were at best in their late 80s. And there weren’t that many of them. As a result of civil war and emigration, mass repressions, collectivization and deportations, total censorship and the imposition of standards not only of behavior but even of thoughts – the structure of society was destroyed.
The normal structure of society is like a soil, in which the particles are bound together – and so the soil can resist the wind. After 70 years of Soviet rule, the structure of society was like sand. The social experience of interaction, the experience of self-organization of society was practically lost.
Autocracy was by no means an ideal, and there were few fully democratic states in Europe before World War II. However, there were still areas in non-democratic ones that the authorities did not seek to fully control. Charitable organizations of various kinds, scientific associations, circles of poets and artists, and even political parties and trade unions did not arise by decision of the authorities, and not always by permission. The Soviet power for 70 years destroyed any possibility of self-organization of society. Everything down to the choir circle and philatelist society had to be authorized by the authorities. Soil that has been depleted for 40 years can be made fertile again quite quickly. Turning sand into soil is a task many times more difficult.
This is why, in particular, the political situations of Russia and Ukraine are so different. A large part of Ukraine was also under Soviet rule for 70 years – but there is also a part where this power appeared only in 1939, after Stalin’s pact with Hitler. And for 40 post-war years it was not possible to erase the memory of the former life and values in Western Ukraine. I think this is what made Ukraine’s political life possible and real. Another example is Moldova, where the two parts of the country before perestroika shared most of the history, 40 years out of 70. And look at how different the political present is.
Why I have been talking about this for so long is because these 70 years of Russian history, this loss of social structure, this atrophy of social muscle, must be taken into account when analyzing, when assessing the results of sociological surveys or the possible consequences of certain reforms.
So what do we see over those 70 years, and what do we see today? For the Soviet authorities, ideology was the invariable and absolute priority.
Ideology was supposed to ensure the consolidation of society. This was partly solved by propaganda – communist utopia has a certain appeal, we still see it today. Simplifying, we can say that Marxism is an economic perversion of Christianity. The ideals proclaimed are largely similar – the end of violence, exploitation, building some kind of paradise on earth. And even some simple recipe is offered on how to achieve this. It’s a strong temptation.
The ideology had to create a sense of being chosen to participate in a great cause, a special mission, an element of national exceptionalism. But not only propaganda was involved – Bolshevik ideology was imposed forcibly.
The ban on criticism of ideology appeared immediately – the closure of opposition newspapers, the banning of political parties, the nationalization of printing houses, and the restoration of censorship abolished after the February Revolution. The theory of the class struggle and Marxist-Leninist philosophy were non-negotiable.
Under Stalin, any criticism of ideology or the authorities could be recognized as anti-Soviet agitation and end in prison, or even execution. Even 70 years after his death, no one in Russia needs to explain what Article 58 is.
After Stalin’s death, a new criminal code was adopted, but it had a similar Article 70, “Anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda,” which included imprisonment for up to seven years. This article was soon supplemented by an article penalizing the dissemination of deliberately false fabrications defaming the Soviet state and social order.
These articles were used against dissidents of various convictions, and the falsity of the “fabrications” was determined by the opinion of the party authorities.
State ideology could not be the object of criticism or even mere doubt.
Historical politics has played a secondary, supporting role all these years – at first, history was simply an object of ideology. It was ideology that was associated with the demolition of old monuments and the installation of new ones in the early years of Soviet power. The new monuments spoke of ideology, not history.
The authorities’ attention to history was rather repressive. Marx was thought to have created a materialistic view of history, and the authorities fought those who held different views. It was about them that Mikhail Nikolaevich Pokrovsky, appointed chief Soviet historian, spoke in 1928: “the history written by these gentlemen represents nothing but politics tipped into the past.” Although he said it in condemnation, the phrase “History is politics tipped into the past” has come into common usage as an indisputable characterization of historical scholarship.
In 1929, Pokrovsky stated that “We must go on the offensive on all scientific fronts. The period of peaceful cohabitation with bourgeois science has been exhausted to the end.” The closest result of the offensive was the so-called “Academic Affair,” in which over 100 scholars were arrested, including many famous historians – notably academicians Platonov and Tarle. History was further kept under strict ideological control, but soon ideological attitudes began to change. As the initial post-revolutionary enthusiasm generated by slogans and promises died out, the authorities began to look for other ways to maintain the loyalty of the population. From the mid-1930s, propaganda began to turn to the images of the heroes of the pre-revolutionary past, who had previously been criticized and ridiculed.
For example, in the first edition of the Great Soviet Encyclopedia in 1926, Prince Alexander Nevsky – in accordance with the class approach – was characterized as a protégé of the Novgorod trading capital, who bargained for a reign in the Horde in exchange for help in collecting tribute from his subjects. And the last rather poisonous phrase in the article – “The Russian Church, which got along well with the Khan, appreciated Alexander Nevsky’s “peaceful” policy towards the Tatars and declared him a saint”.
And 12 years after the appearance of this article in the encyclopedia Alexander Nevsky canonized already by the Soviet power – in 1938, a film is released, where the prince appears as a flawless hero, solely defender and savior of the fatherland, there is no hint of the horde. The change of course began in 1936 with the production of D. Bedny play “Bogatyrs.” In this play he mocked the baptism of Russia, allegedly carried out by Prince Vladimir “on a drunken errand”. The Politburo of the Central Committee adopted a resolution to ban the performance, as it “indiscriminately blackens the bogatyrs of the Russian bylinic epic”, who are “bearers of heroic traits of the Russian people”, as well as “gives an anti-historical and mocking image of the baptism of Ruthenia, which was in fact a positive stage in the history of the Russian people”.
It was a completely unexpected turn. The reaction of one Soviet composer is representative: “I’m going to write an opera called Pugachev.” After this committee ruling, I don’t know what to do. I would like to speak to one of the ruling comrades. Now the historical topic must be approached with extreme caution.” The exploitation of the “heroic traits of the Russian people” continued, and after the war it turned into a distinct propaganda of national exceptionalism. In 1948, a campaign against cosmopolitanism was launched, which was not only nationalistic but also openly anti-Semitic in nature. In 1950, the book “Stories of Russian Supremacy” was published in mass circulation, in which the main inventions and scientific achievements were attributed exclusively to Russians. It was as a reaction to this book that the joking phrase “Russia is the birthplace of elephants” later arose. With Stalin’s death, the campaign ceased, but the Russian people remained “big brother” until the end of Soviet rule, and the military successes of Tsarist Russia were no longer just manifestations of imperialism, but victories of Russian arms. However, since ideology was still in charge, Tsarist Russia was still referred to as the prison of nations.
By the beginning of perestroika, ideology had lost much of its appeal and persuasiveness – the divergence between theory and reality was too obvious. The old slogan “Long Live the Soviet People – Builder of Communism” has been lengthened by the witters: Long live the Soviet people – the eternal builder of communism. In 1991, the Soviet Union collapsed and the Communist Party lost power. Ideology has also lost its repressive levers. The authorities of the new states have an unfamiliar problem – how to ensure sustainability in their countries. Of course, the only real way to ensure sustainability is political competition, changeability of power, and the possibility of correcting the political course through elections. But not all countries are ready for this. In Russia, unfortunately, two circumstances have converged. I described the first one at the beginning – the atomized state of society. The second is the specific understanding, or more correctly, lack of understanding of public problems by the new Russian authorities.
Both Yeltsin, by virtue of his biography, and the so-called reform government, which reduced all problems to the economy, treated society as an object of management. This is a traditional and major flaw of Russian politics, of all Russian authorities, except perhaps only the Provisional Government in 1917 and Gorbachev. The reforms were triggered by models developed for societies of a different type. Even in the countries of Eastern Europe, which had not survived either the Great Terror or collectivization, where, by the end of communist rule, if not the remnants of private property remained, the memory of it was alive, reforms were met with difficulties and resistance. Russia did not have these mitigating circumstances, and, unlike Eastern European countries, had no experience of resolving controversies through negotiation. The ideas of democracy and the rule of law did not become a new ideology. And the events of October 1993 showed that once again not the law, but revolutionary expediency, the opinion of the executive, triumphed. The search for a compromise was firmly abandoned, and the bet was placed on force. To a large extent, this had already predetermined the future course of events. It is quite possible that the first tragic and criminal decisions were taken then impulsively – based on the feeling of the need to show the firmness and strength of the executive power. I am referring to the beginning of the war in Chechnya – which, however, was also officially called not a war, but the restoration of constitutional order. Yeltsin and his entourage probably feared that agreeing to negotiate with Dudayev would be seen as a sign of weakness and chose the path of force. But subsequent decisions aimed at strengthening not democracy but executive power were taken consciously and consistently. Around the same time, the process of declassification of archival documents began to slow down, and the transfer of archival and investigative files from the departmental archives of state security to state archives began to slow down. After the dispersal of parliament and the outbreak of war in Chechnya, the gradual transition of Yeltsin and his entourage from democratic rhetoric to the concept of a strong ruler seems understandable enough. This is the way the 1996 election was conducted. The flirtations with the military have begun. A vivid example is Chubais’s statement in 1999 that “it is not the issue of Chechnya that is being resolved in Chechnya, but an incomparably more significant issue: today the Russian army is being revived in Chechnya“. Support for separatists in different regions of the former USSR begins: from Luzhkov’s gifts to Crimea to the distribution of Russian passports to the residents of Abkhazia and the widespread deployment of Russian peacekeepers. All this strengthened pro-imperialist sentiments among the population.
With Putin’s arrival, the idea of a strong leader who brings order is added to the idea of a strong power. And this idea instantly causes the rise of Stalin’s popularity. This is most likely happening against the wishes of Putin, who appears to sincerely condemn the Stalinist terror. But the stereotypes indoctrinated under Stalin and then under Brezhnev associate the power of the state with Stalin – and his name comes up as soon as one speaks of a great power, regardless of the wishes of the authorities. The cult of victory in the Great Patriotic War, supported by the authorities, reinforces this trend. The Concept of State Policy in the field of perpetuating the memory of victims of political repression, adopted in 2015, has changed little in this regard. No more than a third of the serious program of action developed in 2011, mainly by Memorial, remains, mostly in the form of non-binding declarations. State historical policy has taken a very different path.
Even during the brief presidency of Dmitry Medvedev, an attempt was made to put history in order – in 2009, a decree was issued on the creation of a presidential commission to counter attempts to falsify history to the detriment of Russia’s interests. This commission did not last long, it was abolished in 2012, and is not remembered for anything except its anecdotal name, which implies that falsifications in favor of Russia’s interests do not need to be fought. But still, the authorities’ concern about historical issues and readiness to solve these issues by administrative methods were indicated. Shortly after the dissolution of the commission, in June 2012, the Russian Historical Society was established, headed by Sergei Naryshkin, the former chairman of the above-mentioned commission, who now heads the Foreign Intelligence Service. Six months later, by Putin’s decree, the Russian Military Historical Society was established, with elected chairman Vladimir Medinsky, who was a member of the same commission. It is worth mentioning, that Vladimir Medinsky in 2011 defended his dissertation entitled “Problems of objectivity in the coverage of Russian history of the second half of the XV-XVII centuries”. In it he argued that foreign travelers in their records almost universally slander Russia. A loud scandal involved this dissertation – the expert council on history of the Higher Attestation Commission by an overwhelming majority of votes recommended to deprive Medinsky of his degree, but this recommendation was ignored.
In 2013, shortly after the start of his third presidential term, Putin declared: “It’s time to stop noticing only the bad things in history, to berate ourselves more than any of our detractors do. Criticism is necessary, but without dignity, without love for the Fatherland, this criticism is humiliating and unproductive. We should be proud of our history. And we have a lot to be proud of. All of our history, without exception, must become part of the Russian identity.” It’s hard to argue against the whole story without exceptions. But the real meaning lies in the first, utterly false phrase of this passage – “It’s time to stop noticing only the bad in history.” After these Putin’s words, the “fight against vilification” and the gradual expulsion of overly free-loving textbooks from schools began. The supporters of the Soviet version of history immediately became active, but it was not just about them. By this point, the core of Putin’s policy – the notion of the sacredness of the state – had already clearly manifested itself. The Russian state in all its incarnations is a supreme value that cannot be questioned. Therefore, the Russian state cannot be criminal, and its leader cannot be a criminal. This trend was quickly picked up by many historians with a flexible spine, and the results were not long in coming.
Historical politics came to the forefront. Today, the Faculty of Political Science at MSU has a master’s degree program: Historical Politics. Among the specialty disciplines in this program is Theory and Practice of Information Warfare in the Sphere of Historical Politics. Last year the textbook “Historical Politics” was published, the first chapter in it is called “Sacred History – the Basis of National Consciousness”. Sacred history is not biblical lore. The authors report that unlike positivist history, which is based on scientifically established facts, sacred history is linked to a national value system. And while for positivist history credibility, corroboration through sources, are basic requirements, in sacred history they are not important at all. The main thing for her is the formation of a value matrix of the past, where fiction is as acceptable as historically accurate fact. A few examples of how such “sacred history” is created. Ivan the Terrible, who in 1862 found no place on the monument to the millennium of Russia in Novgorod, unexpectedly improved his reputation. First, pro-government historians began to prove that he was no more cruel than other European rulers of the time, and then in 2016, for the first time in Russian history, a monument was erected to him in the city of Orel. There are plots closer to Ivan the Terrible. For example, voices demanding an official reassessment of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact are growing louder. Both Stalin, who made the pact with Hitler, and subsequent Soviet leaders realized the unsightliness of this fact and justified it by the need to delay the war. The existence of the secret protocol was not just categorically denied – even the question itself was not discussed inside the country. Nowadays, no one is ashamed of the protocol on the division of foreign territories, and five years ago Medinsky called the pact a diplomatic triumph of the USSR.
On the official website of the Military Historical Society among the articles there are also texts devoted to Katyn. They are all essentially resuming the old Soviet lies. It is worth mentioning, that just recently the TASS news agency reported that “the FSB has declassified the archive on the Nazi executions of Poles and the falsification of the Katyn Affair.” In a sense, these are really documents about the falsification of the Katyn affair – only by the Soviet secret services. Unfortunately, there is still no legal end in this case. There is no court judgment fixing common knowledge and naming the guilty. Stalin, Voroshilov, Molotov, Mikoyan, Kalinin, Kaganovich must be called war criminals – there can be no other qualification for those guilty of shooting prisoners of war. Of course, we cannot expect such a decision from a Russian court today. But there is a Polish court that has the power to try crimes against Polish citizens.
There is nothing surprising in these examples – the article “Historical Politics of Modern Russia” on the same Military Historical Society website states: “there is a clear understanding of historical guidelines, they are developed and implemented by Minister and historian Medinsky. It proceeds from a clearly articulated concept, which is to follow the national interest in creating an image of the past. This approach corresponds to the task of forming patriotism as a national idea and uniting the peoples of Russia on the basis of the great past”. In this concept, there is no place for crimes of the state, especially crimes against other states. Nor is there any place for monuments that remind us of such crimes. Today in Russia, dozens of monuments to repressed Poles, Lithuanians, Estonians, Ukrainians, and Latvians have already been demolished in different regions. Many of these monuments were erected at burial sites and cemeteries. In the occupied territories of Ukraine, monuments to the victims of the Holodomor are being demolished.
Russia in modern historical interpretation is no longer a prison of nations, and practically never conquered or annexed anyone by force. The logical outcome of this trend was Peskov’s assertion that Russia has never attacked anyone throughout its history. This statement, which is not entirely consistent with historical facts, was made on February 20, 2022, a few days before the start of hostilities against Ukraine.
Last year, a new school history textbook was published under the editorship of the same Medinsky. I will cite just one complimentary review: “the new history textbook should be recognized as a milestone in the struggle for a sovereign humanities education and science. The main thing is that the collective West is defined as Russia’s historical enemy, and accordingly, Westernism is an ideological complicity with the enemy. And it’s done at the level of a high school textbook!” Today, historical politics occupies roughly the same place as ideology did in Soviet times. It is not only the imposition of state-approved interpretations of events. This is not only actually imposed censorship – Roskomnadzor can block any material on the Internet, suspend the publication of a newspaper, or revoke the license of a radio station. Now they are about to introduce licensing for publishers – and many publishers are already over-insuring themselves. For example, several publishing houses refused to publish a book about a Polish NKVD operation. Misinterpretations of history can already be penalized. Article 354.1 – Rehabilitation of Nazism – has appeared in the criminal code.
It provides for liability for Denial of the facts established by the verdict of the Nuremberg Tribunal, as well as dissemination of knowingly false information about the activities of the USSR during the Second World War, committed in public”. The claim that Stalin, together with Hitler, was guilty of starting World War II turns out to be a denial of the facts established by the tribunal – and there are already examples of punishment for such a claim. That said, Putin’s recent statement that Poland forced Hitler to attack is not a denial of the facts. Negative statements about the activities of SMERSH are interpreted as dissemination of knowingly false information. There is no reason to expect a change for the better. A week ago, Putin approved the “Fundamentals of the State Policy of the Russian Federation in the field of historical education.” It states, in part:
In the context of growing international tensions and the crisis of national identity, which is based on the destruction of historical memory, rehabilitation and resurrection of neo-colonialism, neo-imperialism and neo-Nazism, Russian society and the state face a number of phenomena that carry risks and threats, including:
(a) Unfriendly actions of foreign states aimed at denying or downplaying Russia’s historical contribution to the development of world civilization;
b) attempts to deform historical memory and distort historical truth, negative assessments of events and periods of national history, spreading false ideas about Russia;
c) the use by the collective West of the falsification of history as a weapon in the information war aimed at destroying the integrity of Russian society and the state.
These formulations are a combination of megalomania and persecution mania. It is inconceivable that anyone in Britain, for example, would be worried about the actions of foreign nations to deny its role in world civilization. But the appearance of this text shows how seriously the current government is going to rely on historical politics.
The article translated from Russian by Wieńczysław Czułowski
Jan Raczynski is the president of the International “Memorial” – a Russian association for the defence of human rights and investigating Stalinist crimes, which has been banned by the Russian state. His grandfather Zygmunt Raczynski was a Polish exile to Siberia (he was sent to hard labour in Siberia in 1905 and later exiled to Barguzin). In 2022 ‘Memorial’ received the Nobel Peace Prize, together with the Belarusian oppositionist Ales Bialiatski and the Ukrainian Centre for Civil Liberties.
This article is a transcript of a lecture by Jan Raczynski, presented at the University of Bialystok on 15 May 2024.
Published with the permission of the Author.