‘War is peace’: Russia’s modern wars and imperialist culture
A deep dive into Russia’s imperialism and the misery it has sowed for 30 years
Russia’s societal view on war is a twisted one. A vivid illustration is the image shown above, where a Russian soldier loads a cannon with the inscription “peace to your home”, preparing to shell the city of Bamut in Chechnya. This photo was taken in 1996. Nothing seems to have changed in 26 years. In April 2022, Russian soldiers wrote “Happy Easter” on bombs they dropped on Ukrainian cities.
During Eurovision 2022, Ukraine’s contestant, Kalush Orchestra, called for help for the besieged defenders of Mariupol. “Help Mariupol, help Azovstal right now”, the musician said from the stage. Russian aviation officers seemed to have been watching the contest as well: soon after, they released images of bombs to be dropped on Mariupol with inscriptions mocking Kalush’s passionate plea.
The glorification of war has been strong in Russian culture for centuries. Invasions into other countries were often a rallying point for an unstable imperial society. The historic list of Russian wars beggars belief. You are likely to get tired of scrolling before you reach modernity. The poet Alexander Pushkin, considered by many to be the “Russian Shakespeare”, wrote in 1831:
“You think we’re few in number?
From Perm city to Crimea
From Finnish cliffs to Georgian coasts
From Kremlin’s halls to China’s walls
With shining steel of soldiers’ pikes
The Russian nation will not rise?”
As Russia brutally beat down the 19th century Warsaw uprising, Pushkin addressed this poem to the outraged European countries, essentially saying: “Poland is our colony, and we can do much worse if you don’t mind your own business”. This attitude of “might is right” persisted through centuries, regardless of which government was in power: whether it was tzar Nicholas I, dictator Stalin or president Putin.
One could write several books on the centuries-old imperialist culture of Russia. Today, let’s review how these “time-honored” traditions of colonial wars continued from 1990 to 2021 (Russia’s current war in Ukraine deserves separate coverage).
Armed conflict in Transnistria (1990–1992)
The conflict in Transnistria was modern Russia’s first taste of colonial “peacekeeping” (in reality — military interference in young independent countries) after the collapse of the USSR. It was also one of the first times Russia had the chance to let its former “colonies” (i.e. former Soviet republics) go their own way freely and independently. A chance it not only ignored… but abused.
Tensions had been brewing in Moldova since 1988. The USSR had created fertile ground for conflict: it formed Transnistria as an autonomous administrative region, stationed the 14th Soviet (later — Russian) army there and attempted to force the Moldovan parliament to accept Russian as the sole national language.
Things came to a head in 1991–1992 when the Soviet Union finally dissolved and Moldova was recognized as an independent state by the United Nations. It was the moment of truth for the “new” Russia… and it chose to remain an empire. It couldn’t let Moldova go.
On the night of March 1–2, 1992, Russian irregular troops attacked a police station in Transnistria and took 32 police officers hostage. Fighting soon broke out in the Moldovan towns of Dubossary and Bendery. The separatists were supplied with armored vehicles from the Russian army (a deja vu callback to Russian claims in 2014 that “Donetsk separatists simply found tanks abandoned in coal mines”).
During the conflict, the Russian forces constantly shelled the Moldovan military. The Russian regular army quartered in Transnistria numbered 14,000 soldiers. The local separatist government had 9,000 troops armed and trained by the Russians. In July 1992, after suffering heavy losses, Moldova was forced to sign a peace agreement with the aggressors. The conflict has been frozen ever since.
Transnistria is still not recognized by any other sovereign country in the world. Russia’s troops remained there up to 2022 — a force used to blackmail and exert Russian influence on Moldova.
It’s also important to observe the long-term influence of Russia’s imperialist ambitions on the actual people in places such as Transnistria. In Soviet times, Transnistria was Moldova’s wealthiest region, comprising 40% of its GDP.
After Russia froze the territory in limbo, it descended into a spiral of poverty and crime: it is entirely dependent on Russian subsidies, which come and go (in 2017 Russia suspended its payments and Transnistria was on the verge of a literally empty treasury); it is a hotbed of contraband and illegal arms deals; many journalists and political analysts claim it is a country de-facto controlled by the local mafia.
As you’ll soon see, misery follows wherever the modern Russian empire goes.
First Chechen War (1994–1996)
This was the first full-scale and bloody war of modern Russia (in terms of the truly massive use of its army and heavy weaponry). This would become the “school” for Russian pilots, tank drivers, and artillery officers, where they would learn how to reduce entire cities to rubble… knowledge they would later use in Syria and then — in Ukraine.
It’s worth noting that this all took place during the period of the supposed “Russian liberalization”, the euphoria over the fall of the USSR, a time when Michael Jackson, the Clintons, and Arnold Schwarzenegger were posing for photos in a “new and free” Moscow. The West wanted to believe freedom and change were possible… but by then, Russia was already committed to reviving its oppressive empire. Colonial wars were being waged in the background, largely unseen by the democratic world.
The reasons for the start of the war were depressingly similar: in 1990–1991, a political process began within Chechnya (a small Soviet republic) with calls to leave the Soviet Union and become an independent country. There was a bitter struggle between pro-Soviet and pro-independence Chechens with the latter eventually winning and their leader Dzhokhar Dudayev receiving 72.1% votes for president. This created panic in Moscow, as Chechnya was spiraling out of their control.
After the fall of the USSR, in a surreal turn of events, the decisions of the Russian government were nearly identical to what they would later do regarding Ukraine in 2014–2022: Moscow started by funding local anti-government movements, supplying them with weapons, and sending in Russian special forces.
All of these methods failed to provide results. So, in 1994, Russian president Boris Yeltsin committed to a full invasion of Chechnya. Yeltsin’s security and military advisors persuaded him that the “operation would be quick” and that “the locals would meet Russian soldiers with flowers”… quite literally the same advice that was given to Putin regarding Ukraine and which led to the spectacular failure of the “Russian blitzkrieg” of Kyiv. The playbook of imperial thinking has not changed in nearly 30 years.
The hostilities that began in earnest in 1994 included Russia shelling military objects, conducting aviation bombings, and nearly reducing Grozny (the capital of Chechnya) to a pile of rubble. Chechen president Dudayev was assassinated by Russian special forces in 1996. This was the first of many political killings of Chechen leaders by Russia.
To justify the war to his voters, Russian president Yeltsin called it “a special operation to defend Russia from extremists”. Other mish-mash excuses from the Russian government included a supposed “genocide of Russians in Chechnya” and “Chechnya exporting criminals and terrorists to our country”.
The fighting ground to a standstill after the Russian army seized the ruined capital of Grozny but suffered a defeat trying to capture Chechnya’s remote mountainous regions. A ceasefire agreement was signed in July 1996, yet Russia refused to honor its requirements (another deja vu as we fast forward to Russia not honoring the Minsk agreements). The war resumed, this time leading to a full Russian defeat and the Chechens liberating Grozny. The Khasavyurt Accords were signed between the warring sides on 31 August 1996, freezing the conflict for the next three years.
The estimated casualties of the war vary wildly. Depending on the source, civilian deaths from Russian bombings are cited anywhere from 10,000 to 200,000 people. Russia claimed to have killed 17,000+ Chechen troops. The Committee of Soldiers’ Mothers of Russia estimated 14,000 Russian soldiers dead or MIA.
A humanitarian crisis during the war forced 200,000 Chechen refugees to flee to neighboring regions.
Second Chechen War (1999–2009)
In the aftermath of the first war, Chechnya had a functioning parliament, government, and national currency. However, it was not recognized as an independent state by any country in the world. Moreover, the long history of religious and ethnic tension in the North Caucasus region, fueled by the Russian imperial threat and the collapse of the USSR, led to more regional conflicts. In August 1999, battles broke out between Dagestan (another small former Soviet republic) and Chechnya. Chechen leadership imposed a temporary government in Dagestan by force.
Fearing that Chechnya would become a regional power and break more republics away from Russia, Moscow once again decided to invade. The rhetoric justifying the invasion revolved around the same tired lines: the Chechens were declared international terrorists seeking to attack Russia.
However, this time, the propaganda campaign may have gone much farther. A series of terror attacks rocked Moscow, Buynaksk, and Volgodonsk in September 1999. Hundreds of people died. The Russian government blamed Chechen terrorists, yet an investigation later revealed the main suspects to be of Slavic and Central Asian origin. However, by the time the facts came out, it didn’t matter — public opinion was already formed. The country was terrified and ready to accept what Putin framed as a “defensive war”.
As with most other Russian wars, at least one of its driving forces was Putin’s campaign for voter popularity as a military strongman, “defender of order” and reviver of Russia’s imperial greatness. Chechnya marked his first attempt at this tactic. It’s where he learned (or re-learned from the Soviet/tzarist playbook) the political and propagandist technology of mobilizing Russian society for invasions, reaping the benefits of voter support, and using “short victorious wars” to distract Russians from poverty via the myth of the “great and powerful empire”.
While it is not surprising that no hard evidence was ever found (in a country run by an ex-KGB president), many activists and opposition figures still believe that the terror attacks supposedly instigated by Chechnya could likely have been FSB operations. The aftermath of these events was marred by disappearances, poisonings, and cover-ups related to witnesses or participants of the crimes.
“[There is] no serious doubt that Putin came to power as the result of an act of terror against his own people. Someone capable of such a crime is capable of anything. The proper attitude towards him is deterrence, not partnership.” — David Setter, investigative journalist.
The war itself was characterized by an even greater level of brutality against civilians. The Russian government called it a “counter-terrorism operation” yet 15 villages of this tiny country were destroyed by Russian aviation, leaving 20,000 people without homes. Grozny was once again shelled, this time nearly turning it into a flat wasteland.
The war was bloody and long, lasted 10 years, and ended in the Russian occupation of Chechnya and the installment of a Kremlin-loyal dictator — Ramzan Kadyrov (known nowadays for his practices of torture and purges against his people). The estimated casualties of the Second Chechen War range from 50,000 to 80,000 according to various sources.
Both Chechen Wars are connected to another unpleasant aspect of Russian society and politics, one which is desperately covered up by the Kremlin regime. Similar to the current Russian-Ukrainian war, the government needed a way to mobilize the country against the “others”, as no war is possible without societal support.
Since the Chechens were ethnically different than the Slavic population of metropolitan areas such as Moscow and St. Petersburg, there was an easy (and evil) way to unite society: rally it against the scary “Islamic criminal” threat. Many analysts of Russian politics note that their propaganda is often a twisted mirror, a perverse children’s game of “it’s not me, it’s you”. If the Kremlin regime accuses somebody of something, it’s very likely Russia itself is actually doing it. Freudian slips are a stable feature of Russian state lies.
So it is with Kremlin constantly accusing others of nazism. They reach for that argument so quickly specifically because Russia itself has a sordid history of ultra-nationalist movements and racist violence. Moreover, many of its active politicians harbor a dark past. One example is Dmitriy Rogozin, current head of Russia’s space agency, former Deputy Prime Minister, and former active member of the RNE (Russian National Unity) ultra-nationalist party that played a prominent role in the internal politics of the Chechen Wars.
In fact, these far-right radical ties continued in 2014 and 2022 in Russia’s wars in Ukraine. The LNR and DNR separatists and the Kremlin’s private mercenary group Wagner have strong connections to ultra-nationalist extremist groups. Which makes Russian accusations against the Ukrainian Azov battalion look even more absurd and hypocritical.
South Ossetian War, Abkhazia War, Russian-Georgian War (1991- 2008)
The seeds of conflict in the beautiful yet long-suffering South Caucasus region were once again sown due to the crumbling of the USSR. South Ossetia and Abkhazia were part of the Georgian Soviet Republic. From 1989 to1993 tensions between these supposedly Soviet-inclined regions and Georgia (which was trying to consolidate its sovereign borders) escalated to armed hostilities.
In the 1990s, Russia limited its participation in the conflicts, presenting itself as a peacekeeper. However, it supplied both sides with weapons and its irregular forces provided active support to the separatists. Under Russian pressure, both conflicts were frozen, with Russia retaining a “peacekeeping” military presence in both breakaway areas. Effectively, this created two regions that were controlled by Russia due to economic and military dependence and could be used to blackmail Georgia (similar to Transnistria and Moldova).
The escalation to open war between Russia and Georgia began with large-scale Russian military exercises in the South Ossetian region. Many open-source researchers now claim (based on the high state of Russian military readiness and the location of its troops) that Russia was likely to have planned the course of the entire conflict.
Russia-funded South Ossetian forces were steadily encroaching near Georgian territories; possible Kremlin-sponsored provocations and assassinations raised the tension to a boiling point; the Russian army was waiting for Georgia to respond, which would provide an excuse for the invasion.
On August 8, Moscow launched a full-blown attack on Georgian territory under the pretext of “defending Russian citizens”. Russian planes bombed Georgian towns and Kremlin’s ground forces occupied Georgian territories.
“This is an operation to enforce peace.”
- Russian president Dmitriy Medvedev
The battles ended on August 12 with the Georgian forces pressured and overwhelmed. The Russian army, along with the South Ossetian militia, pushed all the way towards the Georgian capital, Tbilisi. The war ended with French president Nicolas Sarkozy arriving in Moscow and ostensibly negotiating an end to hostilities with his Russian counterpart Dmitriy Medvedev (a figure many claim to be Putin’s puppet, who now zealously defends Russia’s brutality in Ukraine).
In the aftermath of the war: the Russian parliament recognized South Ossetia and Abkhazia as independent states (they are still not recognized by any other country); Human Rights Watch concluded that Georgia never purposefully attacked civilians while Russia targeted fleeing refugees and populated areas. The war resulted in: 192,000 refugees; 224 civilians killed and 15 missing; 547 civilians injured.
And what of Abkhazia and South Ossetia? How do they fare today after Russian “peacekeeping” and “protection”? You may start to notice a pattern here. Remember how Transnistria was Moldova’s wealthiest region before the Russian intervention? In the Soviet era, Abkhazia was a prosperous subtropical resort on the coast of the Black Sea. In 2001, it was rated as one of the poorest regions of the world. After 2008, Russian tourists became its main source of income, placing a band-aid on poverty. Yet local infrastructure still crumbles and (similar to Transnistria), Russia’s support comes and goes, often leaving the country bankrupt yet still dependent.
South Ossetia is in a similar position: the locals survive on subsistence farming, and most factories have closed. Russian subsidies made up 99% of the country’s budget in 2010, yet the “great empire” provides only the bare minimum needed to maintain the loyalty of the local elites.
The “soft” response of the international community to the Russian aggression in Georgia is now seen by many as what emboldened Putin’s regime to continue similar invasions, escalating first to the annexation of Crimea, then — to the invasion of parts of the Donbas and Luhansk regions, and eventually — to the full-scale war in Ukraine in 2022.
In geopolitics, as in everyday life, a lack of punishment usually encourages further crimes.
Annexation of Crimea (2014 — present day)
The illegal annexation of Crimea was precipitated by the Revolution of Dignity in Ukraine when Russian-backed president Viktor Yanukovych fled the country. The fight of Ukrainians against tyranny was won at a terrible price, as dozens of protestors were killed and hundreds were injured. Ukrainian society triumphed against a rising dictator, as Yanukovych was in the beginning stages of repeating Putin and Lukashenko’s rise to authoritarian tyrants.
Ukraine’s refusal to bend to a Russian-backed leader sent a wave of anger and panic through Kremlin’s halls. As with most cases of Russian aggression, there were two reasons for escalation: internal and external. First, there was Putin’s bid to uphold his popularity within Russia. The loss of influence over Ukraine could be perceived as a sign of weakness, so, a show of arrogant “strength” was needed. Second, Russia’s dreams of reviving an empire were literally impossible without making Ukraine (with its large territory, population, agricultural and industrial potential) into another of its puppet states.
Crimea is an autonomous region of Ukraine and was evidently chosen by Russia for several reasons: militarily, it is hard to defend from invasion due to its distance from Ukraine’s mainland; Russia had access via the Black Sea; Crimean leadership had deeply corrupt, half-criminal ties to Moscow, exemplified by Sergey Aksyonov — essentially a crooked politician and mafioso that was installed by Kremlin as the illegal head of annexed Crimea. A man who went by the name “Goblin” in the Crimean crime syndicate Salem.
On February 27, Russian Special Forces seized the government buildings in Crimea’s main city, Simferopol. Members of the local parliament, rallied by Aksyonov and backed by Russian soldiers declared that they did not recognize the Ukrainian government as legitimate. On March 1, the Council of the Russian Federation issued retroactive permission to president Putin for the use of the Russian army on the Ukrainian peninsula. A mockery of law and democratic processes, as Russian troops were already there and Putin needed no “permission” from his puppet-politicians.
On March 16, a “gun-point referendum” was held with gross violations of all imaginable laws: it did not follow Ukraine’s constitution; non-citizens could vote (in fact, everyone could vote several times); old Soviet passports were accepted as IDs; the results were announced ONE HOUR after the polls closed, making it blatantly obvious that no real counting was done. It was declared that 96.57% of Crimeans voted to join Russia and that the turnout surpassed 85%.
While this particular act of Russian aggression was relatively bloodless compared to others, invisible cruelty soon took place behind its new iron curtain. And this cruelty was a continuation of another Russian imperialist tradition: brutal oppression of ethnic minorities. The indigenous population of Crimea had already once been deported by Stalin in 1944: nearly 200,000 people shoved into cattle trains and sent thousands of miles away. 8000 died along the route due to inhuman conditions. In 2014, with a “new and democratic Russia”, the Tatars faced a similar horror: raids in their homes, unlawful arrests, beatings, torture, and forced disappearances.
In Russia, the reaction to the annexation ranged from indifferent acceptance to patriotic ecstasy. “The small and victorious war” tactic employed by Putin provided ideological satisfaction to the people as a substitute for real prosperity (as the trillions earned from oil exports barely touched their own lives). Even Putin’s fierce opposition, the supposedly liberal leader Alexey Navalnyy said: “Crimea shall remain with Russia for the foreseeable future. It’s not a sandwich we can just pass back and forth.”
War in Donbas (2014 — present day)
Having received no significant punishment from the international community for the annexation of Crimea, the appetites of Putin and his government grew. In April 2014, FSB officer Igor Girkin (aka Strelkov), crossed the Ukrainian border with a detachment of Russian special forces and seized the town of Sloviansk. Kramatorsk and Druzhkivka were captured soon after. Local criminals and separatists were armed and turned into a militia. The Russian war in Eastern Ukraine had begun.
Two more gun-point referendums with the same violations of Ukrainian and international law were held in the occupied districts of the Donetsk and Luhansk regions. On September 25, 2014, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Russia pronounced the occupied regions to be “Novorossiya” (New Russia).
The fact that the occupation was driven by Russian forces is, by this point, no secret. Open-source researchers have found that Russian professional soldiers were active in Donbas starting from 2014: at the very least the 61th Marine Brigade and 200th Motorized Rifle Brigade of the Russian Northern Fleet. There are strong indications that many of the so-called local rebels were, in fact, Russian soldiers out of their regular uniform.
As to the rest of the militants, you can observe the same Russian tactic used in all the other wars listed above — arming local separatists and criminals with high-grade military weaponry. This includes both the armored vehicles used to fight the Ukrainian army and the rockets used to shoot down the Dutch airliner MH-17.
Despite the Ukrainian government’s willingness to conduct peaceful negotiations, no agreements with Russia ever brought lasting peace. The Russian side violated multiple ceasefires. Both the local criminals armed with Russian weapons and even Russian artillery based across the border continued killing Ukrainians.
Girkin would later admit that the Russian invasion had turned the occupied parts of Donetsk and Luhansk into a criminal wasteland. Since Ukraine lost control of these areas, the UN reported growing lawlessness, cases of targeted killings, torture, and abduction, carried out by the forces of the so-called Donetsk People’s Republic. International journalists, observers, and locals suspected of having any ties to Ukraine were likely to “disappear”.
The truth is, this war never stopped. Ukraine has been fighting it since 2014, forgotten by the larger world. In 2022, it merely engulfed the entire country as Russia’s full-scale invasion began.
The 2014–2021 Russian aggression in Donbas resulted in more than 13,000 Ukrainians killed (3,375 civilians), more than 1.8 million internal refugees, 251 hostages held in occupied territories, and 410 people missing.
Russian military operation in Syria (2015 — present day)
“He is going to go full Aleppo on Ukraine now, isn’t he? It’s crazy that what we experienced a few years ago is being replayed almost frame by frame in Ukraine.”
- l-Khatib, a Syrian from Aleppo after watching footage of Ukraine being bombed in 2022.
The war in Syria is one of the most complicated and controversial conflicts of modern times. The tangle of religious, political, and societal struggles, as well as the involvement of foreign powers in the country sparks heated debate. What’s not up for serious debate is the Russian military brutality in supporting Assad’s regime, as the information on the bombing of civilian areas has been well-researched, to the point that activists have created a database of Russian airstrikes against civilians, back by videos and other evidence.
To uphold Russia’s imperialist ambitions abroad, on 30 September 2015, the Council of the Russian Federation authorized the use of the country’s military (most importantly — its aviation and artillery) in Syria. Since then, 1418 incidents of Russian forces targeting civilian areas with no military value have been identified. And that’s just those with confirmed video evidence.
“Russian airstrikes appear to have directly attacked civilians or civilian objects… and even medical facilities, resulting in deaths and injuries.”
- Philip Luther, MENA Director at Amnesty International
True to form, the Russian government has denied their inhuman attacks and tried to cover them up with fakes and propaganda. One of the most shocking Russian tactics in Syria has been the targeted bombing of civilian hospitals in rebel-aligned areas. By 2018, Russian strikes were reported to have killed 18,000 Syrians, half of them — civilian people. The war has wound down since then but has not stopped due to the continued Russian presence. Half of the country’s population (~12 million people) have become refugees.
“It’s an extremely bad idea to mark buildings with Red Crosses and words like ‘Children’ when fighting a war with them [Russians]. In Syria of September 2015, the insurgents have — via the White Helmets and the UN — informed the Russian HQ … about every single hospital in areas held by them. They provided precise coordinates, expecting the VKS [Russian aviation] to avoid these. The Russians bombed every single hospital in question, and then launched a smear campaign against the White Helmets, declaring them ‘jihadists’. When the insurgents began hiding their hospitals, the Russians somehow got coordinates for these… and bombed them too. Without exception.”
-Tom Cooper, Austrian military analyst in response to the bombing of Mariupol drama theater, where ~1000 Ukrainian civilians were bombed despite the word “Children” inscribed in huge letters, visible from the air.
For many Syrians that have lived in the hell created by the Russian military, the current global stand-off with Putin seems like their last hope for justice. The Kremlin was not held to task for bombing civilians in 2015–2021, but perhaps punishment of the Russian military for war crimes in Ukraine could lead to some form of accountability.
“They used everything they could in Aleppo, and as much as I don’t want to see this, I wouldn’t be surprised if they started using the same planes, bombs, and missiles to target civilians in Ukraine. I’m glad to see that the world is finally starting to pay attention to what Russia is doing… we hope he [Putin] could finally be held accountable so that at least another form of justice could be delivered to us Syrians,” says Mustafa al-Qaseem, who used to live in Aleppo and now lives in Germany.
The “whys” of societal support: never-ending economic crisis and a history of imperialist culture
Throughout most of the wars and invasions described above, the reaction of the majority of the Russian population ranged from gleeful celebration to passive acceptance. The civilized world either underestimates this societal support or struggles to comprehend why it exists. It is understandably hard to reconcile the fact, for example, that in 2019, Joseph Stalin, one of the most notorious mass-murderers in history polled at 70% popularity (more than Putin) among Russians by the independent Levada Center pollster.
The reasons for this state of affairs are manifold and complex. The short version is: Russia has been teetering back and forth on the edge of societal collapse for centuries. It’s hard to hold together an empire of that size (Russia is the largest country in the world by area), with such disparate peoples (193 ethnic groups), in such an inhospitable land, without a myth to unify them, without appealing to humanity’s base instincts. That myth always revolved around a great empire with great military conquests and a “special Russian destiny”.
“What this country needs is a short, victorious war to stem the tide of revolution.”
- Vyacheslav von Plehve, director of Imperial Russian police, 1904, about the Russian-Japanese War.
There is a long-established cycle in Russian history of: poverty — war — civil unrest — new dictatorship. Rinse and repeat. It existed in tzarist Russia and even in the Soviet Union. Modern Russia continued this cycle. As the state budget earned trillions in energy exports, Russians still lived on the verge of demographic, economic, and social collapse. Poverty, despair, and poor education are fertile ground for imperialist culture… because what else can the people look to for meaning? How can they explain to themselves why the country exists in that size and state? The imperial myth is in demand… because it’s needed to justify the existence of a de-facto empire.
It’s easier to keep believing in the “special Russian destiny” than to fight for a prosperous and free country or question its place in the world.
But don’t take in from the author of this article, take it from Boris Nemtsov, a Russian opposition leader that Putin considered so dangerous he likely had him assassinated. See what Nemtsov says about the support of the Russian people for the war in Georgia in 2008:
What’s more, Russia seems to bring this societal model of “poverty fertilizing imperialist ideology” everywhere it goes: everything is achieved by force and everything is invested into corruption and violence. From turning the occupied regions of Ukraine into an impoverished and lawless land to freezing Transnistria in Soviet-era economic crisis, to destroying the future of Abkhazia and South Ossetia. Russia’s colonialist influence leaves every place worse than it found it.
The peculiar character of the Russian modern empire is to occupy territories and drag them backward away from progress. Perhaps this is a direct line to how Moscovia’s (Russia’s historical name pre-17th century) statehood model was conceived: as a vassal of the Mongol Empire, gathering resources from the neighboring Slavic kingdoms the Golden Horde had conquered.
Another important part of the puzzle is, obviously, the famed Kremlin propaganda machine. However, the international community sees only the tip of the iceberg. Propaganda has infiltrated Russian everyday life and culture. It is not the yells of crazy “Goebels impersonators” that have the most effect. It’s the soft power, the quiet everyday influence that warps minds. The children’s cartoons with blatant lies and insidious political messages. The military-themed family picnics. The Russian youth organizations that are disturbingly similar to the Hitlerjugend.
How do you combat propaganda when it’s become part of people’s routine and identity? Some psychologists compare the effects of prolonged propaganda to indoctrination into cults — one of the most horrific alterations of the mind, even when it comes to educated and well-to-do people. Is every Russian afflicted by something like this? Of course not, humanity and empathy survive even in the darkest of circumstances. But it is becoming hard to deny that a problem of societal psychology exists at a significant scale in Russia.
The top picture is a group of Moonies that have been blessed by their messiah… The bottom picture is Hitler youth…The thing I had to admit to myself, with great repulsion, was that I get it. I understand how this could happen. I understand how someone’s brain, how someone’s mind can come to the place where it makes sense… to try to save the world through genocide.
If you looked at my brain, or any brain that’s infected with a viral memetic infection like this, and compared it to anyone in this room, or anyone who uses critical thinking on a regular basis, I am convinced it would look very, very different.
- Diane Benscoter, explaining her youth as a cult member in her TED talk
The impact of these 30 years on Russian citizens has been profound. Importantly, it was not a novel phenomenon: it landed on the fertile ground of previous tzarist and Soviet ideology, passed on from parent to child. It’s what directly led to 200,000 Russian young men willing to rape and murder in Ukraine. For example, indoctrinating children into militaristic ideology as early as possible was always an important part of modern Russian politics and institutions. Little has changed in 30 years, as you can see in the photos below.
As technology progressed in the 21st century, many of us thought the dangers of the future resembled the Brave New World by Huxley… a world of decadence, entertainment, and shallowness. But it seems, Russia prefers the better-known classics.
War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength. These phrases are from Orwell’s fictional world of 1984, emblazoned in giant letters upon the white pyramid of the Ministry of Truth. One has to wonder: if we scrape the Kremlin walls, might not the same words appear as Russia’s political and cultural inspiration?
A post-WW2 Germany had to travel a long and painful road to wash away its bloody past and become Europe’s most prosperous country. It lost its military, had to pay reparations, and recognize the horrors it had inflicted on Europe.
But if the signs of societal disease in Russia are as bad as they seem, the world may be facing an even more difficult challenge than it did with a defeated Germany in 1945.
