Another Original LR Translation: The Lie as the Russia’s "National Idea"

La Russophobe‘s original translator offers the following from essay by Matvey Ganapolskiy (pictured) from the pages of Yezehednevniy Zhurnal on the emergence of a new “national idea” in post-communist Russia. Of course, one very familiar with Russian history might very well say this is merely the rediscovery of Russia’s original “national idea,” which explains the fact that Russia has made so little progress over the years.

The Lie as National Idea

Matvey Ganapolskiy

Yezhednevniy Zhurnal

April 11, 2007

The authorities in Russia are always putting forward ideas which, in their view, might help unify the country. The question, invariably, is to what extent the authorities believe these ideas themselves.

The central idea in the former USSR of happiness through equality collided with shortages of consumer goods which, like advancement in one’s career, were with few exceptions more accessible the higher one rose in the Party hierarchy. It was far from the case that everyone had the chance to buy toilet paper, pineapples or salami. Prosperity was achieved by following a simple saying: “Five minutes of shame, and you’re set for life.” You entered the Party, which did not set before you any realistic goals, but was inspired by the slogan, “Good fortune with us!” Then, following the rules of this strange game, you at last became a fully enfranchised citizen. The threat of shortages and the lure of growth in one’s career, both linked directly to membership in the Party, along with the closed borders, served as restraints against those who might deviate from the Party line. Non-Party members for all practical purposes had no rights.

Sometimes the ideologues of the Soviet Union tried to vary this picture of life, and threw out an appeal to the people. Such as, for example, the call to “Build the BAM!” [TN: The Baikal-Amur Main railroad, completed in 1984.] Television programs showed young people singing songs as they departed to work on BAM, and poets, sitting dachas outside Moscow, composed poems about these young people. On closer examination, the idea of the railroad turned out to be a massive lie – surrounding the railroad for thousands of kilometers was no infrastructure whatsoever. Settlements, where they existed at all, consisted only of the construction workers themselves, who settled in “komfortabilniy” train cars – they were shown on the television as well. The authorities understood that the economy of the country was in decline, that the garden cities along BAM would never be built, but they stubbornly kept laying down the tracks.

They were helped by two circumstances: First, all the Party leaders were already awaiting their pensions. And in a government dacha, with pineapples served on little saucers, even the most ridiculous undertaking seemed not quite so awful. Secondly, no one had ever inquired about past mistakes. And the unclear mumblings of the latest General Secretary about “certain mistakes” that were made by some Party congress long departed from the podium were taken as the inescapable but easy enough tribute paid in the course of a classical ritual. This was just an unwritten part of a social contract between the people and the authorities: the people laughed at the leaders, made up jokes about them, but in essence always participated in the Big Lie. Everyone went to the polls around 8:00 a.m. and voted, never looking at the ballots and not knowing the names of those they voted for. And now, a decade on, many of those who worked on the BAM have long ago died, while others have scattered to their home towns, some now living in the desperate poverty. But in the Russian mass consciousness BAM continues to be the project of the century, from which experience the current ideologues try to wring something useful in this age of the Internet and IPod.

The years of the shortages have passed, the Russian borders are now open and, it seems, the era of the Big Lie has slipped into the past forever. But actually, it has not. Unlimited possibilities have opened up not only for the people, but also, and foremost, for those in power. This is the possibility of privatizing the country.

It may be that Russia really is naturally a monarchy, since in both the recent and the current time the ruling elite have been seriously worried about the necessity of someday having to leave power. So the powers that be exert every effort to ensure that their dachas are not, any longer, in the Moscow suburbs, and that they will not be left with just pineapples. Of course, at stake is not just a bunch of goods in short supply, but the entire wealth of Russia, which the Kremlin rules undividedly, placing at risk along with the old-fashioned ideal of growth in one’s career, our very position as a free country. Having made an example of Khodorkovskiy to show what becomes of those don’t obey, the Kremlin was no doubt surprised by how quickly everyone fell in line by themselves. Poor Bill Gates and Warren Buffet! They still have no idea that the most effective business managers in the world work in the Kremlin, considering how they regularly get onto the boards of directors of the most powerful Russian companies. They must be geniuses, no? Of course not. The Kremlin’s favorites are placed in these companies as a reward, and to serve as the master’s eye. Everyone knows it and takes it as a given.

The Big Lie is once again in big demand. The President says that the government does not want to break up Yukos, already knowing exactly how he will break it up. He speaks of the importance of civil society, but destroys it himself. The Leader of Russia talks about the importance of friendship with the West, but the youth movement that obeys his every word hands out leaflets on the street from which one would infer that America is planning to attack Russia tomorrow. Putin announces that the people will choose the next president, but everyone knows perfectly well that the leader will be the one designated by Putin. He energetically demands that television give time to the opposition, but everyone knows exactly who is on the list of those banned from appearing there. People like, for example, the world chess champion Kasparov, or the radical Eduard Limonov.

Regarding the latter, an anecdote has surfaced: He gave an interview to a popular newspaper, for which the pro-Putin party condemned both the interviewer and publisher. This seems unbelievable, but it is true: the Party, forgetting about the Constitution, was upset that a person who does not like Putin – but who has nonetheless not been convicted of anything, stripped of his rights, or even placed under investigation – can be interviewed.

The most recent initiative is especially elegant: Everyone knows that success in one’s career can be expected only if one enters the “United Russia” party, but the Party has officially proposed the idea of promoting young people into career-track positions. This too is part of the Big Lie. Party officials say that they will promote any talented young person, but people get the clear signal: it is time to join exactly this organization, because exactly this organization will decide whether you have potential for a career. Naturally, as in the era of the Big Lie, none of this is condemned by the people. People in general do not take the actions of the authorities as being in violation of their rights, as an abrogation of the Constitution. For them this is just a signal of what rules they will be playing by today. And this Aesopian language is also part of the Big Lie.

In the end, it matters little by what motives the Kremlin rules, having made the Big Lie an integral part of their policies. What is important is that around the Big Lie they have constructed the entire contemporary life of Russia.

Putin officially does not lead “United Russia”, but everyone knows perfectly well that it is his Party. The country awaits parliamentary elections, but everyone already knows the results. The authorities speak of civil rights, but opposition rallies are ruthlessly suppressed. Big business is nominally independent, but everyone knows who really owns it. Kremlin bureaucrats talk about patriotism, but their children have never served in the army. They instead take top positions in leading banks and business enterprises. Evidently the grounds of the Kremlin emit something that will make you a successful businessman, and not only you but your children as well.

A furniture salesman was appointed the new Minister of Defense, and it was officially announced that he would undergo a crash course to acquaint himself with what an army is and how to lead one. Any normal person would find this amusing, but not a Russian – he understands it: Putin has faith in the new minister. He needs him for some purpose, and it is unimportant what job he has been given. Later he will be moved. But none of these facts are of any particular interest to Russians. The simple people do not think about such things. And the elite understand that The Lie has become an integral part of politics, and they play along according to the rules.

One of our old jokes used to go: No matter what Russian industry produces, in the end it always turns out a Kalashnikov rifle. It may be that modern Russian industry has learned to produce actual products. But the factory that produces the “national idea”, having sorted through the possibilities of “autocracy, orthodoxy, nationality” and the somewhat more modern “rescuing the people”, has realized that the first set is too archaic, and the second requires it to actually do something, and has instead returned to the reliable old Big Lie, the objective of which is simply gain control over one’s future. Hence, if one understands the “National Idea” to be something that permeates the whole society, unifies it, and defines its motives of conduct, then this is none other than the Big Lie. This is what the Russian uses to adjust his current behavior and construct his vision of the future.

It is hard for a person to see himself from outside himself. Russians laugh about the Big Lie as it exists in North Korea, reject the idea of wearing a lapel pin with a portrait of Kim Chong Il, and are astonished to learn that the beaches of that country are fenced off in barbed wire to keep the grateful people from fleeing their adoring leadership. But participating in the Big Lie does not require one to wear a lapel pin, and the barbed wire in one’s own mind is more effective than the stuff on the Korean beaches.

The main problem with Russia is not the breakup of the country, but the model of morality presented by the authorities. Russian history has almost always urged Russians to live by a lie. And the paternalistic society has readily agreed. But a society is proven healthy exactly by its willingness to oppose the Big Lie. Conformism has no place here. The Big Lie easily transitions into the Big Terror, which has happened in Russian history more than once. And President Putin, with his unlimited power, had the chance to chance to change this sad tradition. But instead he only enriched it. And nothing is likely to change in the next government either.

Thanks for reading La Russophobe !

Another Original LR Translation: The Lie as the Russia’s "National Idea"

La Russophobe‘s original translator offers the following from essay by Matvey Ganapolskiy (pictured) from the pages of Yezehednevniy Zhurnal on the emergence of a new “national idea” in post-communist Russia. Of course, one very familiar with Russian history might very well say this is merely the rediscovery of Russia’s original “national idea,” which explains the fact that Russia has made so little progress over the years.

The Lie as National Idea

Matvey Ganapolskiy

Yezhednevniy Zhurnal

April 11, 2007

The authorities in Russia are always putting forward ideas which, in their view, might help unify the country. The question, invariably, is to what extent the authorities believe these ideas themselves.

The central idea in the former USSR of happiness through equality collided with shortages of consumer goods which, like advancement in one’s career, were with few exceptions more accessible the higher one rose in the Party hierarchy. It was far from the case that everyone had the chance to buy toilet paper, pineapples or salami. Prosperity was achieved by following a simple saying: “Five minutes of shame, and you’re set for life.” You entered the Party, which did not set before you any realistic goals, but was inspired by the slogan, “Good fortune with us!” Then, following the rules of this strange game, you at last became a fully enfranchised citizen. The threat of shortages and the lure of growth in one’s career, both linked directly to membership in the Party, along with the closed borders, served as restraints against those who might deviate from the Party line. Non-Party members for all practical purposes had no rights.

Sometimes the ideologues of the Soviet Union tried to vary this picture of life, and threw out an appeal to the people. Such as, for example, the call to “Build the BAM!” [TN: The Baikal-Amur Main railroad, completed in 1984.] Television programs showed young people singing songs as they departed to work on BAM, and poets, sitting dachas outside Moscow, composed poems about these young people. On closer examination, the idea of the railroad turned out to be a massive lie – surrounding the railroad for thousands of kilometers was no infrastructure whatsoever. Settlements, where they existed at all, consisted only of the construction workers themselves, who settled in “komfortabilniy” train cars – they were shown on the television as well. The authorities understood that the economy of the country was in decline, that the garden cities along BAM would never be built, but they stubbornly kept laying down the tracks.

They were helped by two circumstances: First, all the Party leaders were already awaiting their pensions. And in a government dacha, with pineapples served on little saucers, even the most ridiculous undertaking seemed not quite so awful. Secondly, no one had ever inquired about past mistakes. And the unclear mumblings of the latest General Secretary about “certain mistakes” that were made by some Party congress long departed from the podium were taken as the inescapable but easy enough tribute paid in the course of a classical ritual. This was just an unwritten part of a social contract between the people and the authorities: the people laughed at the leaders, made up jokes about them, but in essence always participated in the Big Lie. Everyone went to the polls around 8:00 a.m. and voted, never looking at the ballots and not knowing the names of those they voted for. And now, a decade on, many of those who worked on the BAM have long ago died, while others have scattered to their home towns, some now living in the desperate poverty. But in the Russian mass consciousness BAM continues to be the project of the century, from which experience the current ideologues try to wring something useful in this age of the Internet and IPod.

The years of the shortages have passed, the Russian borders are now open and, it seems, the era of the Big Lie has slipped into the past forever. But actually, it has not. Unlimited possibilities have opened up not only for the people, but also, and foremost, for those in power. This is the possibility of privatizing the country.

It may be that Russia really is naturally a monarchy, since in both the recent and the current time the ruling elite have been seriously worried about the necessity of someday having to leave power. So the powers that be exert every effort to ensure that their dachas are not, any longer, in the Moscow suburbs, and that they will not be left with just pineapples. Of course, at stake is not just a bunch of goods in short supply, but the entire wealth of Russia, which the Kremlin rules undividedly, placing at risk along with the old-fashioned ideal of growth in one’s career, our very position as a free country. Having made an example of Khodorkovskiy to show what becomes of those don’t obey, the Kremlin was no doubt surprised by how quickly everyone fell in line by themselves. Poor Bill Gates and Warren Buffet! They still have no idea that the most effective business managers in the world work in the Kremlin, considering how they regularly get onto the boards of directors of the most powerful Russian companies. They must be geniuses, no? Of course not. The Kremlin’s favorites are placed in these companies as a reward, and to serve as the master’s eye. Everyone knows it and takes it as a given.

The Big Lie is once again in big demand. The President says that the government does not want to break up Yukos, already knowing exactly how he will break it up. He speaks of the importance of civil society, but destroys it himself. The Leader of Russia talks about the importance of friendship with the West, but the youth movement that obeys his every word hands out leaflets on the street from which one would infer that America is planning to attack Russia tomorrow. Putin announces that the people will choose the next president, but everyone knows perfectly well that the leader will be the one designated by Putin. He energetically demands that television give time to the opposition, but everyone knows exactly who is on the list of those banned from appearing there. People like, for example, the world chess champion Kasparov, or the radical Eduard Limonov.

Regarding the latter, an anecdote has surfaced: He gave an interview to a popular newspaper, for which the pro-Putin party condemned both the interviewer and publisher. This seems unbelievable, but it is true: the Party, forgetting about the Constitution, was upset that a person who does not like Putin – but who has nonetheless not been convicted of anything, stripped of his rights, or even placed under investigation – can be interviewed.

The most recent initiative is especially elegant: Everyone knows that success in one’s career can be expected only if one enters the “United Russia” party, but the Party has officially proposed the idea of promoting young people into career-track positions. This too is part of the Big Lie. Party officials say that they will promote any talented young person, but people get the clear signal: it is time to join exactly this organization, because exactly this organization will decide whether you have potential for a career. Naturally, as in the era of the Big Lie, none of this is condemned by the people. People in general do not take the actions of the authorities as being in violation of their rights, as an abrogation of the Constitution. For them this is just a signal of what rules they will be playing by today. And this Aesopian language is also part of the Big Lie.

In the end, it matters little by what motives the Kremlin rules, having made the Big Lie an integral part of their policies. What is important is that around the Big Lie they have constructed the entire contemporary life of Russia.

Putin officially does not lead “United Russia”, but everyone knows perfectly well that it is his Party. The country awaits parliamentary elections, but everyone already knows the results. The authorities speak of civil rights, but opposition rallies are ruthlessly suppressed. Big business is nominally independent, but everyone knows who really owns it. Kremlin bureaucrats talk about patriotism, but their children have never served in the army. They instead take top positions in leading banks and business enterprises. Evidently the grounds of the Kremlin emit something that will make you a successful businessman, and not only you but your children as well.

A furniture salesman was appointed the new Minister of Defense, and it was officially announced that he would undergo a crash course to acquaint himself with what an army is and how to lead one. Any normal person would find this amusing, but not a Russian – he understands it: Putin has faith in the new minister. He needs him for some purpose, and it is unimportant what job he has been given. Later he will be moved. But none of these facts are of any particular interest to Russians. The simple people do not think about such things. And the elite understand that The Lie has become an integral part of politics, and they play along according to the rules.

One of our old jokes used to go: No matter what Russian industry produces, in the end it always turns out a Kalashnikov rifle. It may be that modern Russian industry has learned to produce actual products. But the factory that produces the “national idea”, having sorted through the possibilities of “autocracy, orthodoxy, nationality” and the somewhat more modern “rescuing the people”, has realized that the first set is too archaic, and the second requires it to actually do something, and has instead returned to the reliable old Big Lie, the objective of which is simply gain control over one’s future. Hence, if one understands the “National Idea” to be something that permeates the whole society, unifies it, and defines its motives of conduct, then this is none other than the Big Lie. This is what the Russian uses to adjust his current behavior and construct his vision of the future.

It is hard for a person to see himself from outside himself. Russians laugh about the Big Lie as it exists in North Korea, reject the idea of wearing a lapel pin with a portrait of Kim Chong Il, and are astonished to learn that the beaches of that country are fenced off in barbed wire to keep the grateful people from fleeing their adoring leadership. But participating in the Big Lie does not require one to wear a lapel pin, and the barbed wire in one’s own mind is more effective than the stuff on the Korean beaches.

The main problem with Russia is not the breakup of the country, but the model of morality presented by the authorities. Russian history has almost always urged Russians to live by a lie. And the paternalistic society has readily agreed. But a society is proven healthy exactly by its willingness to oppose the Big Lie. Conformism has no place here. The Big Lie easily transitions into the Big Terror, which has happened in Russian history more than once. And President Putin, with his unlimited power, had the chance to chance to change this sad tradition. But instead he only enriched it. And nothing is likely to change in the next government either.

Thanks for reading La Russophobe !

Another Original LR Translation: The Lie as the Russia’s "National Idea"

La Russophobe‘s original translator offers the following from essay by Matvey Ganapolskiy (pictured) from the pages of Yezehednevniy Zhurnal on the emergence of a new “national idea” in post-communist Russia. Of course, one very familiar with Russian history might very well say this is merely the rediscovery of Russia’s original “national idea,” which explains the fact that Russia has made so little progress over the years.

The Lie as National Idea

Matvey Ganapolskiy

Yezhednevniy Zhurnal

April 11, 2007

The authorities in Russia are always putting forward ideas which, in their view, might help unify the country. The question, invariably, is to what extent the authorities believe these ideas themselves.

The central idea in the former USSR of happiness through equality collided with shortages of consumer goods which, like advancement in one’s career, were with few exceptions more accessible the higher one rose in the Party hierarchy. It was far from the case that everyone had the chance to buy toilet paper, pineapples or salami. Prosperity was achieved by following a simple saying: “Five minutes of shame, and you’re set for life.” You entered the Party, which did not set before you any realistic goals, but was inspired by the slogan, “Good fortune with us!” Then, following the rules of this strange game, you at last became a fully enfranchised citizen. The threat of shortages and the lure of growth in one’s career, both linked directly to membership in the Party, along with the closed borders, served as restraints against those who might deviate from the Party line. Non-Party members for all practical purposes had no rights.

Sometimes the ideologues of the Soviet Union tried to vary this picture of life, and threw out an appeal to the people. Such as, for example, the call to “Build the BAM!” [TN: The Baikal-Amur Main railroad, completed in 1984.] Television programs showed young people singing songs as they departed to work on BAM, and poets, sitting dachas outside Moscow, composed poems about these young people. On closer examination, the idea of the railroad turned out to be a massive lie – surrounding the railroad for thousands of kilometers was no infrastructure whatsoever. Settlements, where they existed at all, consisted only of the construction workers themselves, who settled in “komfortabilniy” train cars – they were shown on the television as well. The authorities understood that the economy of the country was in decline, that the garden cities along BAM would never be built, but they stubbornly kept laying down the tracks.

They were helped by two circumstances: First, all the Party leaders were already awaiting their pensions. And in a government dacha, with pineapples served on little saucers, even the most ridiculous undertaking seemed not quite so awful. Secondly, no one had ever inquired about past mistakes. And the unclear mumblings of the latest General Secretary about “certain mistakes” that were made by some Party congress long departed from the podium were taken as the inescapable but easy enough tribute paid in the course of a classical ritual. This was just an unwritten part of a social contract between the people and the authorities: the people laughed at the leaders, made up jokes about them, but in essence always participated in the Big Lie. Everyone went to the polls around 8:00 a.m. and voted, never looking at the ballots and not knowing the names of those they voted for. And now, a decade on, many of those who worked on the BAM have long ago died, while others have scattered to their home towns, some now living in the desperate poverty. But in the Russian mass consciousness BAM continues to be the project of the century, from which experience the current ideologues try to wring something useful in this age of the Internet and IPod.

The years of the shortages have passed, the Russian borders are now open and, it seems, the era of the Big Lie has slipped into the past forever. But actually, it has not. Unlimited possibilities have opened up not only for the people, but also, and foremost, for those in power. This is the possibility of privatizing the country.

It may be that Russia really is naturally a monarchy, since in both the recent and the current time the ruling elite have been seriously worried about the necessity of someday having to leave power. So the powers that be exert every effort to ensure that their dachas are not, any longer, in the Moscow suburbs, and that they will not be left with just pineapples. Of course, at stake is not just a bunch of goods in short supply, but the entire wealth of Russia, which the Kremlin rules undividedly, placing at risk along with the old-fashioned ideal of growth in one’s career, our very position as a free country. Having made an example of Khodorkovskiy to show what becomes of those don’t obey, the Kremlin was no doubt surprised by how quickly everyone fell in line by themselves. Poor Bill Gates and Warren Buffet! They still have no idea that the most effective business managers in the world work in the Kremlin, considering how they regularly get onto the boards of directors of the most powerful Russian companies. They must be geniuses, no? Of course not. The Kremlin’s favorites are placed in these companies as a reward, and to serve as the master’s eye. Everyone knows it and takes it as a given.

The Big Lie is once again in big demand. The President says that the government does not want to break up Yukos, already knowing exactly how he will break it up. He speaks of the importance of civil society, but destroys it himself. The Leader of Russia talks about the importance of friendship with the West, but the youth movement that obeys his every word hands out leaflets on the street from which one would infer that America is planning to attack Russia tomorrow. Putin announces that the people will choose the next president, but everyone knows perfectly well that the leader will be the one designated by Putin. He energetically demands that television give time to the opposition, but everyone knows exactly who is on the list of those banned from appearing there. People like, for example, the world chess champion Kasparov, or the radical Eduard Limonov.

Regarding the latter, an anecdote has surfaced: He gave an interview to a popular newspaper, for which the pro-Putin party condemned both the interviewer and publisher. This seems unbelievable, but it is true: the Party, forgetting about the Constitution, was upset that a person who does not like Putin – but who has nonetheless not been convicted of anything, stripped of his rights, or even placed under investigation – can be interviewed.

The most recent initiative is especially elegant: Everyone knows that success in one’s career can be expected only if one enters the “United Russia” party, but the Party has officially proposed the idea of promoting young people into career-track positions. This too is part of the Big Lie. Party officials say that they will promote any talented young person, but people get the clear signal: it is time to join exactly this organization, because exactly this organization will decide whether you have potential for a career. Naturally, as in the era of the Big Lie, none of this is condemned by the people. People in general do not take the actions of the authorities as being in violation of their rights, as an abrogation of the Constitution. For them this is just a signal of what rules they will be playing by today. And this Aesopian language is also part of the Big Lie.

In the end, it matters little by what motives the Kremlin rules, having made the Big Lie an integral part of their policies. What is important is that around the Big Lie they have constructed the entire contemporary life of Russia.

Putin officially does not lead “United Russia”, but everyone knows perfectly well that it is his Party. The country awaits parliamentary elections, but everyone already knows the results. The authorities speak of civil rights, but opposition rallies are ruthlessly suppressed. Big business is nominally independent, but everyone knows who really owns it. Kremlin bureaucrats talk about patriotism, but their children have never served in the army. They instead take top positions in leading banks and business enterprises. Evidently the grounds of the Kremlin emit something that will make you a successful businessman, and not only you but your children as well.

A furniture salesman was appointed the new Minister of Defense, and it was officially announced that he would undergo a crash course to acquaint himself with what an army is and how to lead one. Any normal person would find this amusing, but not a Russian – he understands it: Putin has faith in the new minister. He needs him for some purpose, and it is unimportant what job he has been given. Later he will be moved. But none of these facts are of any particular interest to Russians. The simple people do not think about such things. And the elite understand that The Lie has become an integral part of politics, and they play along according to the rules.

One of our old jokes used to go: No matter what Russian industry produces, in the end it always turns out a Kalashnikov rifle. It may be that modern Russian industry has learned to produce actual products. But the factory that produces the “national idea”, having sorted through the possibilities of “autocracy, orthodoxy, nationality” and the somewhat more modern “rescuing the people”, has realized that the first set is too archaic, and the second requires it to actually do something, and has instead returned to the reliable old Big Lie, the objective of which is simply gain control over one’s future. Hence, if one understands the “National Idea” to be something that permeates the whole society, unifies it, and defines its motives of conduct, then this is none other than the Big Lie. This is what the Russian uses to adjust his current behavior and construct his vision of the future.

It is hard for a person to see himself from outside himself. Russians laugh about the Big Lie as it exists in North Korea, reject the idea of wearing a lapel pin with a portrait of Kim Chong Il, and are astonished to learn that the beaches of that country are fenced off in barbed wire to keep the grateful people from fleeing their adoring leadership. But participating in the Big Lie does not require one to wear a lapel pin, and the barbed wire in one’s own mind is more effective than the stuff on the Korean beaches.

The main problem with Russia is not the breakup of the country, but the model of morality presented by the authorities. Russian history has almost always urged Russians to live by a lie. And the paternalistic society has readily agreed. But a society is proven healthy exactly by its willingness to oppose the Big Lie. Conformism has no place here. The Big Lie easily transitions into the Big Terror, which has happened in Russian history more than once. And President Putin, with his unlimited power, had the chance to chance to change this sad tradition. But instead he only enriched it. And nothing is likely to change in the next government either.

Thanks for reading La Russophobe !

Another Original LR Translation: The Lie as the Russia’s "National Idea"

La Russophobe‘s original translator offers the following from essay by Matvey Ganapolskiy (pictured) from the pages of Yezehednevniy Zhurnal on the emergence of a new “national idea” in post-communist Russia. Of course, one very familiar with Russian history might very well say this is merely the rediscovery of Russia’s original “national idea,” which explains the fact that Russia has made so little progress over the years.

The Lie as National Idea

Matvey Ganapolskiy

Yezhednevniy Zhurnal

April 11, 2007

The authorities in Russia are always putting forward ideas which, in their view, might help unify the country. The question, invariably, is to what extent the authorities believe these ideas themselves.

The central idea in the former USSR of happiness through equality collided with shortages of consumer goods which, like advancement in one’s career, were with few exceptions more accessible the higher one rose in the Party hierarchy. It was far from the case that everyone had the chance to buy toilet paper, pineapples or salami. Prosperity was achieved by following a simple saying: “Five minutes of shame, and you’re set for life.” You entered the Party, which did not set before you any realistic goals, but was inspired by the slogan, “Good fortune with us!” Then, following the rules of this strange game, you at last became a fully enfranchised citizen. The threat of shortages and the lure of growth in one’s career, both linked directly to membership in the Party, along with the closed borders, served as restraints against those who might deviate from the Party line. Non-Party members for all practical purposes had no rights.

Sometimes the ideologues of the Soviet Union tried to vary this picture of life, and threw out an appeal to the people. Such as, for example, the call to “Build the BAM!” [TN: The Baikal-Amur Main railroad, completed in 1984.] Television programs showed young people singing songs as they departed to work on BAM, and poets, sitting dachas outside Moscow, composed poems about these young people. On closer examination, the idea of the railroad turned out to be a massive lie – surrounding the railroad for thousands of kilometers was no infrastructure whatsoever. Settlements, where they existed at all, consisted only of the construction workers themselves, who settled in “komfortabilniy” train cars – they were shown on the television as well. The authorities understood that the economy of the country was in decline, that the garden cities along BAM would never be built, but they stubbornly kept laying down the tracks.

They were helped by two circumstances: First, all the Party leaders were already awaiting their pensions. And in a government dacha, with pineapples served on little saucers, even the most ridiculous undertaking seemed not quite so awful. Secondly, no one had ever inquired about past mistakes. And the unclear mumblings of the latest General Secretary about “certain mistakes” that were made by some Party congress long departed from the podium were taken as the inescapable but easy enough tribute paid in the course of a classical ritual. This was just an unwritten part of a social contract between the people and the authorities: the people laughed at the leaders, made up jokes about them, but in essence always participated in the Big Lie. Everyone went to the polls around 8:00 a.m. and voted, never looking at the ballots and not knowing the names of those they voted for. And now, a decade on, many of those who worked on the BAM have long ago died, while others have scattered to their home towns, some now living in the desperate poverty. But in the Russian mass consciousness BAM continues to be the project of the century, from which experience the current ideologues try to wring something useful in this age of the Internet and IPod.

The years of the shortages have passed, the Russian borders are now open and, it seems, the era of the Big Lie has slipped into the past forever. But actually, it has not. Unlimited possibilities have opened up not only for the people, but also, and foremost, for those in power. This is the possibility of privatizing the country.

It may be that Russia really is naturally a monarchy, since in both the recent and the current time the ruling elite have been seriously worried about the necessity of someday having to leave power. So the powers that be exert every effort to ensure that their dachas are not, any longer, in the Moscow suburbs, and that they will not be left with just pineapples. Of course, at stake is not just a bunch of goods in short supply, but the entire wealth of Russia, which the Kremlin rules undividedly, placing at risk along with the old-fashioned ideal of growth in one’s career, our very position as a free country. Having made an example of Khodorkovskiy to show what becomes of those don’t obey, the Kremlin was no doubt surprised by how quickly everyone fell in line by themselves. Poor Bill Gates and Warren Buffet! They still have no idea that the most effective business managers in the world work in the Kremlin, considering how they regularly get onto the boards of directors of the most powerful Russian companies. They must be geniuses, no? Of course not. The Kremlin’s favorites are placed in these companies as a reward, and to serve as the master’s eye. Everyone knows it and takes it as a given.

The Big Lie is once again in big demand. The President says that the government does not want to break up Yukos, already knowing exactly how he will break it up. He speaks of the importance of civil society, but destroys it himself. The Leader of Russia talks about the importance of friendship with the West, but the youth movement that obeys his every word hands out leaflets on the street from which one would infer that America is planning to attack Russia tomorrow. Putin announces that the people will choose the next president, but everyone knows perfectly well that the leader will be the one designated by Putin. He energetically demands that television give time to the opposition, but everyone knows exactly who is on the list of those banned from appearing there. People like, for example, the world chess champion Kasparov, or the radical Eduard Limonov.

Regarding the latter, an anecdote has surfaced: He gave an interview to a popular newspaper, for which the pro-Putin party condemned both the interviewer and publisher. This seems unbelievable, but it is true: the Party, forgetting about the Constitution, was upset that a person who does not like Putin – but who has nonetheless not been convicted of anything, stripped of his rights, or even placed under investigation – can be interviewed.

The most recent initiative is especially elegant: Everyone knows that success in one’s career can be expected only if one enters the “United Russia” party, but the Party has officially proposed the idea of promoting young people into career-track positions. This too is part of the Big Lie. Party officials say that they will promote any talented young person, but people get the clear signal: it is time to join exactly this organization, because exactly this organization will decide whether you have potential for a career. Naturally, as in the era of the Big Lie, none of this is condemned by the people. People in general do not take the actions of the authorities as being in violation of their rights, as an abrogation of the Constitution. For them this is just a signal of what rules they will be playing by today. And this Aesopian language is also part of the Big Lie.

In the end, it matters little by what motives the Kremlin rules, having made the Big Lie an integral part of their policies. What is important is that around the Big Lie they have constructed the entire contemporary life of Russia.

Putin officially does not lead “United Russia”, but everyone knows perfectly well that it is his Party. The country awaits parliamentary elections, but everyone already knows the results. The authorities speak of civil rights, but opposition rallies are ruthlessly suppressed. Big business is nominally independent, but everyone knows who really owns it. Kremlin bureaucrats talk about patriotism, but their children have never served in the army. They instead take top positions in leading banks and business enterprises. Evidently the grounds of the Kremlin emit something that will make you a successful businessman, and not only you but your children as well.

A furniture salesman was appointed the new Minister of Defense, and it was officially announced that he would undergo a crash course to acquaint himself with what an army is and how to lead one. Any normal person would find this amusing, but not a Russian – he understands it: Putin has faith in the new minister. He needs him for some purpose, and it is unimportant what job he has been given. Later he will be moved. But none of these facts are of any particular interest to Russians. The simple people do not think about such things. And the elite understand that The Lie has become an integral part of politics, and they play along according to the rules.

One of our old jokes used to go: No matter what Russian industry produces, in the end it always turns out a Kalashnikov rifle. It may be that modern Russian industry has learned to produce actual products. But the factory that produces the “national idea”, having sorted through the possibilities of “autocracy, orthodoxy, nationality” and the somewhat more modern “rescuing the people”, has realized that the first set is too archaic, and the second requires it to actually do something, and has instead returned to the reliable old Big Lie, the objective of which is simply gain control over one’s future. Hence, if one understands the “National Idea” to be something that permeates the whole society, unifies it, and defines its motives of conduct, then this is none other than the Big Lie. This is what the Russian uses to adjust his current behavior and construct his vision of the future.

It is hard for a person to see himself from outside himself. Russians laugh about the Big Lie as it exists in North Korea, reject the idea of wearing a lapel pin with a portrait of Kim Chong Il, and are astonished to learn that the beaches of that country are fenced off in barbed wire to keep the grateful people from fleeing their adoring leadership. But participating in the Big Lie does not require one to wear a lapel pin, and the barbed wire in one’s own mind is more effective than the stuff on the Korean beaches.

The main problem with Russia is not the breakup of the country, but the model of morality presented by the authorities. Russian history has almost always urged Russians to live by a lie. And the paternalistic society has readily agreed. But a society is proven healthy exactly by its willingness to oppose the Big Lie. Conformism has no place here. The Big Lie easily transitions into the Big Terror, which has happened in Russian history more than once. And President Putin, with his unlimited power, had the chance to chance to change this sad tradition. But instead he only enriched it. And nothing is likely to change in the next government either.

Thanks for reading La Russophobe !

Another Original LR Translation: The Lie as the Russia’s "National Idea"

La Russophobe‘s original translator offers the following from essay by Matvey Ganapolskiy (pictured) from the pages of Yezehednevniy Zhurnal on the emergence of a new “national idea” in post-communist Russia. Of course, one very familiar with Russian history might very well say this is merely the rediscovery of Russia’s original “national idea,” which explains the fact that Russia has made so little progress over the years.

The Lie as National Idea

Matvey Ganapolskiy

Yezhednevniy Zhurnal

April 11, 2007

The authorities in Russia are always putting forward ideas which, in their view, might help unify the country. The question, invariably, is to what extent the authorities believe these ideas themselves.

The central idea in the former USSR of happiness through equality collided with shortages of consumer goods which, like advancement in one’s career, were with few exceptions more accessible the higher one rose in the Party hierarchy. It was far from the case that everyone had the chance to buy toilet paper, pineapples or salami. Prosperity was achieved by following a simple saying: “Five minutes of shame, and you’re set for life.” You entered the Party, which did not set before you any realistic goals, but was inspired by the slogan, “Good fortune with us!” Then, following the rules of this strange game, you at last became a fully enfranchised citizen. The threat of shortages and the lure of growth in one’s career, both linked directly to membership in the Party, along with the closed borders, served as restraints against those who might deviate from the Party line. Non-Party members for all practical purposes had no rights.

Sometimes the ideologues of the Soviet Union tried to vary this picture of life, and threw out an appeal to the people. Such as, for example, the call to “Build the BAM!” [TN: The Baikal-Amur Main railroad, completed in 1984.] Television programs showed young people singing songs as they departed to work on BAM, and poets, sitting dachas outside Moscow, composed poems about these young people. On closer examination, the idea of the railroad turned out to be a massive lie – surrounding the railroad for thousands of kilometers was no infrastructure whatsoever. Settlements, where they existed at all, consisted only of the construction workers themselves, who settled in “komfortabilniy” train cars – they were shown on the television as well. The authorities understood that the economy of the country was in decline, that the garden cities along BAM would never be built, but they stubbornly kept laying down the tracks.

They were helped by two circumstances: First, all the Party leaders were already awaiting their pensions. And in a government dacha, with pineapples served on little saucers, even the most ridiculous undertaking seemed not quite so awful. Secondly, no one had ever inquired about past mistakes. And the unclear mumblings of the latest General Secretary about “certain mistakes” that were made by some Party congress long departed from the podium were taken as the inescapable but easy enough tribute paid in the course of a classical ritual. This was just an unwritten part of a social contract between the people and the authorities: the people laughed at the leaders, made up jokes about them, but in essence always participated in the Big Lie. Everyone went to the polls around 8:00 a.m. and voted, never looking at the ballots and not knowing the names of those they voted for. And now, a decade on, many of those who worked on the BAM have long ago died, while others have scattered to their home towns, some now living in the desperate poverty. But in the Russian mass consciousness BAM continues to be the project of the century, from which experience the current ideologues try to wring something useful in this age of the Internet and IPod.

The years of the shortages have passed, the Russian borders are now open and, it seems, the era of the Big Lie has slipped into the past forever. But actually, it has not. Unlimited possibilities have opened up not only for the people, but also, and foremost, for those in power. This is the possibility of privatizing the country.

It may be that Russia really is naturally a monarchy, since in both the recent and the current time the ruling elite have been seriously worried about the necessity of someday having to leave power. So the powers that be exert every effort to ensure that their dachas are not, any longer, in the Moscow suburbs, and that they will not be left with just pineapples. Of course, at stake is not just a bunch of goods in short supply, but the entire wealth of Russia, which the Kremlin rules undividedly, placing at risk along with the old-fashioned ideal of growth in one’s career, our very position as a free country. Having made an example of Khodorkovskiy to show what becomes of those don’t obey, the Kremlin was no doubt surprised by how quickly everyone fell in line by themselves. Poor Bill Gates and Warren Buffet! They still have no idea that the most effective business managers in the world work in the Kremlin, considering how they regularly get onto the boards of directors of the most powerful Russian companies. They must be geniuses, no? Of course not. The Kremlin’s favorites are placed in these companies as a reward, and to serve as the master’s eye. Everyone knows it and takes it as a given.

The Big Lie is once again in big demand. The President says that the government does not want to break up Yukos, already knowing exactly how he will break it up. He speaks of the importance of civil society, but destroys it himself. The Leader of Russia talks about the importance of friendship with the West, but the youth movement that obeys his every word hands out leaflets on the street from which one would infer that America is planning to attack Russia tomorrow. Putin announces that the people will choose the next president, but everyone knows perfectly well that the leader will be the one designated by Putin. He energetically demands that television give time to the opposition, but everyone knows exactly who is on the list of those banned from appearing there. People like, for example, the world chess champion Kasparov, or the radical Eduard Limonov.

Regarding the latter, an anecdote has surfaced: He gave an interview to a popular newspaper, for which the pro-Putin party condemned both the interviewer and publisher. This seems unbelievable, but it is true: the Party, forgetting about the Constitution, was upset that a person who does not like Putin – but who has nonetheless not been convicted of anything, stripped of his rights, or even placed under investigation – can be interviewed.

The most recent initiative is especially elegant: Everyone knows that success in one’s career can be expected only if one enters the “United Russia” party, but the Party has officially proposed the idea of promoting young people into career-track positions. This too is part of the Big Lie. Party officials say that they will promote any talented young person, but people get the clear signal: it is time to join exactly this organization, because exactly this organization will decide whether you have potential for a career. Naturally, as in the era of the Big Lie, none of this is condemned by the people. People in general do not take the actions of the authorities as being in violation of their rights, as an abrogation of the Constitution. For them this is just a signal of what rules they will be playing by today. And this Aesopian language is also part of the Big Lie.

In the end, it matters little by what motives the Kremlin rules, having made the Big Lie an integral part of their policies. What is important is that around the Big Lie they have constructed the entire contemporary life of Russia.

Putin officially does not lead “United Russia”, but everyone knows perfectly well that it is his Party. The country awaits parliamentary elections, but everyone already knows the results. The authorities speak of civil rights, but opposition rallies are ruthlessly suppressed. Big business is nominally independent, but everyone knows who really owns it. Kremlin bureaucrats talk about patriotism, but their children have never served in the army. They instead take top positions in leading banks and business enterprises. Evidently the grounds of the Kremlin emit something that will make you a successful businessman, and not only you but your children as well.

A furniture salesman was appointed the new Minister of Defense, and it was officially announced that he would undergo a crash course to acquaint himself with what an army is and how to lead one. Any normal person would find this amusing, but not a Russian – he understands it: Putin has faith in the new minister. He needs him for some purpose, and it is unimportant what job he has been given. Later he will be moved. But none of these facts are of any particular interest to Russians. The simple people do not think about such things. And the elite understand that The Lie has become an integral part of politics, and they play along according to the rules.

One of our old jokes used to go: No matter what Russian industry produces, in the end it always turns out a Kalashnikov rifle. It may be that modern Russian industry has learned to produce actual products. But the factory that produces the “national idea”, having sorted through the possibilities of “autocracy, orthodoxy, nationality” and the somewhat more modern “rescuing the people”, has realized that the first set is too archaic, and the second requires it to actually do something, and has instead returned to the reliable old Big Lie, the objective of which is simply gain control over one’s future. Hence, if one understands the “National Idea” to be something that permeates the whole society, unifies it, and defines its motives of conduct, then this is none other than the Big Lie. This is what the Russian uses to adjust his current behavior and construct his vision of the future.

It is hard for a person to see himself from outside himself. Russians laugh about the Big Lie as it exists in North Korea, reject the idea of wearing a lapel pin with a portrait of Kim Chong Il, and are astonished to learn that the beaches of that country are fenced off in barbed wire to keep the grateful people from fleeing their adoring leadership. But participating in the Big Lie does not require one to wear a lapel pin, and the barbed wire in one’s own mind is more effective than the stuff on the Korean beaches.

The main problem with Russia is not the breakup of the country, but the model of morality presented by the authorities. Russian history has almost always urged Russians to live by a lie. And the paternalistic society has readily agreed. But a society is proven healthy exactly by its willingness to oppose the Big Lie. Conformism has no place here. The Big Lie easily transitions into the Big Terror, which has happened in Russian history more than once. And President Putin, with his unlimited power, had the chance to chance to change this sad tradition. But instead he only enriched it. And nothing is likely to change in the next government either.

Thanks for reading La Russophobe !

Putin: Russians Cut off From Internet

According to President Putin’s State of the Union message, the overwhelming majority of Russians (82%) have no regular access to the Internet (just 25 of 140 million people regularly go online in Putin’s Russia). So much for the just-plain-stupid idea that the Internet can offset the loss of Russia’s TV and print journalism to Kremlin control!

Thanks for reading La Russophobe !

Russian Human Rights Campaigners Call for Foreign Intervention

BBS News reports that frantic Russian human rights campaigners are pleading for foreign intervention to stop the rising tide of authoritarianism in their country.

Germany should support Russian civil society by insisting that President Vladimir Putin take concrete steps to improve human rights in Russia, three leaders of Russian nongovernmental organizations said today in Berlin. The three were invited to Berlin by Human Rights Watch to express their concerns about the deteriorating human rights situation in Russia ahead of the EU-Russia summit in May.

At a joint news conference with Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International, the three – Yuri Dzhibladze, president and founder of the Centre for the Development of Democracy and Human Rights; Oleg Orlov, chair of Memorial, one of Russia’s oldest human rights groups; and Tanya Lokshina, chair of DEMOS Center for Information and Research – highlighted the severe human rights violations taking place in Russia today. While they accepted Germany’s desire to improve its relationship with Russia, they emphasized the importance of not betraying the principles on which the European Union was founded. The EU will hold “human rights consultations” with Moscow next month, ahead of the May 18 EU-Russia summit.

“All the European countries ought to stand up for Russian civil society, but Germany should be leading the way,” said Lokshina of DEMOS. “With the Putin government trying to suppress all dissent, we need you now more than ever.”

The three raised concerns that EU members – and in particular Germany, which plays a leading role on Russia in Europe, not only because it holds the current EU presidency but also because of its special relationship with Moscow – were guided too much by economic interests. They focused especially on the EU’s desire to secure energy supplies.

“Speaking out on human rights in Russia won’t threaten Europe’s energy supply but it would really help to curb the government’s crackdown,” said Memorial’s Orlov. “Russian civil society is under attack and we need Germany to speak up.”

The excessive violence and force used to break up the recent peaceful political demonstrations in Moscow and St. Petersburg highlight the increasing pressure on civil society in Russia, the human rights defenders said.

“This police violence is just the latest sign of growing government hostility toward peaceful dissent in Russia,” said Dzhibladze of the Centre for the Development of Democracy and Human Rights. “It’s part of an effort to silence the political opposition, human rights defenders, and independent media in Russia.”

The three human rights defenders stressed that Germany and the other EU members were not promoting human rights as well as they should in dialogue with Russia. The clearest example is Europe’s striking failure to respond effectively to the continuing, pervasive impunity for grave human rights violations in Chechnya, the single largest human rights crisis in Europe today. It is the only place in Europe where the civilian population faces systematic torture, often perpetrated in unacknowledged, illegal places of detention, as well as summary executions and forced disappearances.

Despite eight recent rulings by the European Court of Human Rights, which has found Russia responsible for serious abuses in Chechnya, European governments have not put pressure on Russia to take any meaningful steps to curb these atrocities. The Kremlin has the power to rein in its Chechen proxies, responsible for most of these abuses, but instead it supports them unconditionally and blocks investigations into their misconduct, the three human rights defenders said.

“Germany and the rest of Europe should insist that President Putin implements the European Court of Human Rights rulings,” said Lokshina. “Moscow should investigate and prosecute atrocities in Chechnya, compensate its victims and make the systemic changes to end torture and other atrocities. But that won’t happen without a push from Europe.”

Video of Human Rights Watch’s executive director, Kenneth Roth, addressing the Council of Europe Parliamentary Assembly about human rights conditions in Russia on April 18 is available online.

Thanks for reading La Russophobe !

Annals of the Holy Russian Empire: Prayer in Schools

Blogger Paul Goble reports on the introduction of the teaching of religion into the schools of the Holy Russian Empire:

More than 800,000 school children in the Russian Federation are now taking courses on religion or religious subjects, an increase of almost 20 percent over last year and one certain to rise even more in the 2007/08 academic year when such courses are slated to be introduced in additional Moscow and Tatarstan schools.

Yesterday, the Social Chamber’s Commission on Tolerance and Freedom of Conscience released data on the number of pupils now taking courses in religion, comparative religion or religious culture in 72 of the 88 regions of the Russian Federation. According to the commission, 700,000 to 800,000 of students in these federation subjects were studying religion in one way or another, a figure 15 to 18 percent higher than last year, and “not fewer” than 20,000 to 30,000” teachers were involved in their instruction. “The overwhelming majority of those studying in government and municpal general education institutions – about 500,000 to 600,000 – are studying courses on Orthodox culture,” Interfax reported. An additional 150,000 to 200,000 pupils are studying Islamic culture. In addition, the Russian news agency said, some 50,000 young people are being instructed in religious studies, 10,000 in the history and culture of Judaism, 10,000 in Buddhist thought, and 10,000 in the traditional faiths of the numerically small peoples of the Russian North.

In almost all parts of the country, the commission reported, courses on offer are those of the religious culture “traditional for these locations: Orthodoxy, Islam or Buddhism.” Moreover, it found that the number of courses in religious culture outnumber those on the philosophy of religions as such” by a factor of ten. The number of pupils studying religion in Russian schools is certain to jump this fall, perhaps by more than the increase from last year to this. That is because schools in Moscow and in Tatarstan will then begin offering such courses . Virtually all such religious courses on offer in Russia today are voluntary rather than required and are defined as cultural and historical rather than theological. But the religious content of many has offended both those committed to a secular society and members of local minorities who fear their children will be converted. Many in leadership positions of Russia’s so-called “traditional” religions – Orthodox Christianity, Islam, Judaism and Buddhism – have pushed hard over the last decade for the inclusion of such courses as part of a broader effort to help Russia’s citizens recover from the depredations of Soviet-era atheism.

In the last several years, more and more Russian officials have come to support the offering of such courses, as long as instruction in them is defined as non-theological. Part of the reason for this is because many of these officials either feel the same way their co-religionists do or because they want to curry favor with such groups. At the same time, however, there is another and perhaps more influential factor at work: As advocates of such courses have noted, sociological research suggests that Russians who follow one of the traditional faiths not only tend to have more children and suffer from fewer social pathologies but also seem more inclined to participate in public life (For such studies, see here and here). No one can dispute the importance of the values advanced by most religions for the recovery of Russian society, but using the public schools as the primary means to promote these values at least in the case of the Russian Federation seems fraught with two overwhelming dangers.

On the one hand, the tradition of secularism in Russian society is still relatively weak, and consequently, the introduction of religious courses, however defined in the schools, makes it unlikely that the rising generation of Russians will make the kind of distinction between church and state on which a civil society rests. And on the other, given the diversity of faiths within the Russian Federation and especially the cleavage between Orthodox Christianity and Islam, there is a very real danger that such courses, with the suggestion that local or national officials support this or that faith, will exacerbate divisions in that country rather than help to overcome them.

Thanks for reading La Russophobe !

Annals of Neo-Soviet Paranoia

ITV News reports on the display of neo-Soviet paranoia in Putin’s eight state of the nation address:

Foreign money is being used to interfere with Russia’s internal affairs, the country’s President Vladimir Putin said. Mr Putin said it is being used to boost feelings of hatred and called for tougher laws to stamp out “extremism”. In his annual state-of-the-nation address he said: “There is a growing influx of foreign cash used to directly meddle in our domestic affairs. “Some people are not averse to using the dirtiest methods, trying to foment inter-ethnic and religious hatred in our multinational country. “In this respect, I am addressing you with a request to speed up the adoption of amendments to the legislation toughening punishment for extremist actions.” Putin is due to step down next year when his second and last four-year term ends. He is widely popular while the economy is fast-growing, propelled by revenues from booming oil exports.

While Putin blames foreign spies for Russia’s problems, just like his predecessors in the Politburo, MSNBC reports that those problems continue apace (small rich class just as in the times of the Tsar, sucking the blood out of a giant class of impoverished victims):

It’s a big day for Natalia and Alexei Liventsev — they’re buying their first car, a Ford Focus, $20,000 up front. But these young Muscovites can afford it. They’re part of a booming middle class that makes 15 to 20 times more than their parents did. “Life has definitely improved,” says Natalia Liventsev. “There’s more stability, more money.” Under Russian President Vladimir Putin, much more money. Today’s Moscow is the capital of glitz. The number of billionaires here is second only to the U.S. Foreign-made luxury cars now cram the streets. Even in the shadow of what was once the KGB’s headquarters, there’s a Bentley dealership. “A powerful economy means — first and foremost — allowing people to get rich.”

It’s a far cry from those days of long lines, empty pockets, and stale bread. Case in point? Moscow’s Filippov Bakery — a Soviet landmark — now a trendy coffeeshop. The old pensioners have been replaced by young students, by Russian professionals — people who feel very comfortable coming here and spending $4 or $5 for a cafe latte, or $6 or $7 for a croissant.

But critics warn that Putin’s new Russia still suffers from many of the old problems. Endemic alcohol and drug abuse — and poor health care — have reduced life expectancy here to just 59 years for men — lower than Bangladesh. Putin has promised $3 billion on an ‘anti-disease’ program to buy drugs to fight an HIV/AIDS epidemic, TB and cancer. But reformers like Vladimir Ryzhkov, a liberal member of parliament, say Russia needs life support. “The Russian population is slowing down very fast,” Ryzhkov says. “We are losing about 700,000 every year.

Yet, on Red Square and elsewhere, Russians don’t seem all that concerned about such issues. [LR: You could have found just the same attitudes twenty years ago concerning the USSR] “Everyone is buying new cars, new clothes and likes the way things ae right now,” says Alexei Kagalov, a commercial artist. One of a wave of new, prosperous Russians, just hoping the good times roll on. [LR: His definition of “everyone” is the same as that used by the Tsar; the average wage in Russia is $2.50 per hour and the minimum wage is $0.25]

Thanks for reading La Russophobe !

April 26, 2007 — Contents

THURSDAY APRIL 26 CONTENTS

(1) SPECIAL FEATURE: Remembering Boris Yeltsin

(a) Part I: Yulia Latynina, Another Original LR Translation

(b) Part II: Zaxi Blog

(c) Part III: Kiselyov’s Take

(2) Life in the Secret City

(3) Saints be Praised: Annals of the Holy Russian Empire

Thanks for reading La Russophobe !