Paul Goble
Vienna, May 21 – Ethnic Russian protests against the taking down of a memorial to Soviet soldiers call attention to a development across the post-Soviet world: “the birth of diasporas” whose members are loyal to the states in which they live but are not prepared to integrate with the predominant population except on their own terms.
That represents a challenge first and foremost to the countries in which these communities live, posing a very different and much more difficult set of political problems for these states than the governments there have faced up to now or expected to be confronted by in the future.
But it also presents difficulties for Moscow officials who have typically viewed Russia speakers in “the near abroad” as their “compatriots,” people whose loyalty to the countries in which they found themselves after 1991 could be assumed to be less than their willingness to support the Russian government and move back to Russia itself.
In an essay posted online last week with the provocative title, “The Birth of a Russian Diaspora,” Moscow commentator Oleg Nemenskiy argues that what has taken place in Estonia reflects a broader “crisis in the integrative processes in post-Soviet states” (http://www.apn.ru/publications/print17097.htm).
Immediately after the disintegration of the Soviet Union, many non-Russian governments, often pushed by the West, assumed that they could fully integrate Russians and Russian speakers into the new or revived non-Russian nations they were working to promote. But those expectations have now proved to be completely “unrealistic.”
But Moscow’s earlier assumptions about these groups in the non-Russian countries have also proved incorrect. While some ethnic Russians in these countries have shown themselves to be more loyal to Moscow than to their host governments and a few have been willing to move to Russia, most have not done either.
Not surprisingly, Nemenskiy argues, the first exemplar of this crisis of expectations occurred in Estonia. First, most ethnic Russians there are quite willing to integrate into what they believe should be a multi-ethnic Estonia to get the benefits of economic growth there and access to the European Union of which Estonia is a member.
Second, Estonia’s own experience with a monument to Waffen SS officers erected in 2004 set the stage for the shifting of the Soviet war memorial a month ago. When the SS monument was taken down, at the urging of then-U.S. Ambassador Aldona Wos, Tallinn issued a statement that pointed to what was coming.
In taking down the SS monument, the Estonian government said that it considers “impermissible the appearance in Estonia of monuments which could be interpreted as an attempt to keep alive forever the memory of totalitarian occupation regimes,” something it and many others clearly believe includes the Soviet as well as the German occupation.
And third, having achieved its twin foreign policy objectives of the post-1991 period in 2004 – membership in the European Union and in NATO – the Estonian authorities decided to put more pressure on ethnic Russians there to integrate on Estonian terms, something many Russians viewed as a step toward “a mono-ethnic” country.
Ethnic Russians and Russian speakers living in Estonia had expected that their new homeland would remain a multi-ethnic society and polity whatever the Tallinn authorities actually said. And Nemenskiy argues, they demonstrated in various ways that they were more prepared for integration on those terms than the Estonians were.
For such Russians in Estonia, the Bronze Soldier -- as the Soviet war memorial in the center of Tallinn is called -- symbolized their “(co)authorship in the Estonian state” and thus “the right to existence of a Russian national minority in this country.” When that monument was taken down, it thus represented an existential challenge.
“The Russian protest in Estonia was not directed against Estonian statehood or a manifestation of ‘imperialism’ or even more of ‘Russian separatism,” Nemenskiy says. “It was a protest against the mono-ethnic ideology of the state, [of] their right to live in Estonia and to be part of it and of the right to consider Estonia their own country.”
The Russians of Estonia, Nemenskiy continues, “did not want to annul integration.” Instead, what they wanted was for the program to continue as it has rather than to be redefined by the Estonian authorities. And most of them viewed the shifting of the war memorial as an indication that the Estonians were doing just that.
The Moscow commentator quotes the following observation of one participant on a Russian language Internet forum in Estonia to make his point: “None of the authorities understood that we – the Russians of Estonia – want a peaceful life, that we are loyal to our state [and] that Estonia is our motherland.”
But now, in the wake of the demontage of the Bronze Soldier, Nemenskiy argues, “the Russian-language residents of Estonia recognize that for further integration [in that country,] they must be its active subject, they must present themselves as a communal whole, and that autonomous rights are a precondition of their future.”
In short, the Russians and Russian speakers of Estonia must become a community with a “we.” That may be happening, he argues: One Russian schoolgirl there, on hearing how Estonians view the Soviet occupation, reportedly said “We understand this occupation differently” a comment that is especially important because of the “WE.”
That does not mean that Russian speakers in Estonia are going to become a fifth column for Moscow or even a single political organism, Nemenskiy suggests, but it does mean that they now form a community based on their identity, “which until now had been quite weak.”
Many will certainly take issue with Nemenskiy’s argument, but it represents an intriguing one, especially coming out of Moscow now. But what makes it particularly interesting is his suggestion that what has taken place in Estonia will soon occur in other countries as well, challenging both their regimes and the one in Moscow.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Window on Eurasia: Bolsheviks’ Combination of Empire, Nation State Behind Russia’s Current Problems
Paul Goble
Vienna, May 21 – Many of the Russian Federation’s most intractable problems today concerning the structure of the state and the identity of its citizenry are rooted in “the political miracle” the Bolsheviks pulled off in the 1920s: they were able to reassemble and then maintain the empire while creating a unique kind of nation state.
That combination was possible, Moscow commentator Sergei Shelin argues, for one reason only. The Soviet authorities were ready and willing to use forms and methods “available only to a totalitarian state” in order to imbue a common “spirit” among a critical part of the USSR’s population (http://www.globalrus.ru/opinions/783918).
But once the state was unprepared to use force in a totalitarian way, that common spirit rapidly disappeared, leading both to the disintegration of the Soviet Union and to the unfettered rise of the “national” identities that the Communist authorities had promoted.
At one level, Shelin’s argument resembles those many analysts have made to explain the rise and fall of the Soviet state. But at another, his logic represents a particularly important contribution to understanding not only because of the vocabulary he uses but also because of his application of it to the situation in the Russian Federation.
A commentator who writes frequently on nationalism and ethnic issues in the former Soviet Union, Shelin advances this argument most clearly in his new critique of an April speech by Valeriy Tishkov, former Russian nationalities minister and current director of the Moscow Institute of Ethnology.
Tishkov is “right,” Shelin says, “when he remarks that ‘the USSR … was a national state and the Soviet people was a community which resembled that of a civic nation. But [the noted ethnographer] is correct,” the commentator suggests, “only in part.”
“The quasi-civic people of the Soviet Union was the Communist Party and in general all people who were imbued with the spirit of party-ness. Namely this spirit, as long as it was strong, made the individual a part of a single ‘Soviet people.’ [And] in this sense, the USSR was in reality a national state.”
“But at the same time, the Soviet Union was an empire,” Shelin points out, “with a typically imperial division of its subjects into tribes and also a typically totalitarian harshness in these divisions.” In Soviet times, people were required to declare their “nationality” and those listed as members of that group were considered “’peoples.’”
And out of the creation or at least official designation of such groups, Shelin continues, there arose that very ‘friendship of the peoples’ which V.A. Tishkov perfectly justly would like to do away with. [Indeed, in important regards,] the model of the Soviet Union was its unique characteristic invention – the communal apartment.”
“On the one hand, the Moscow analyst says, “all its residents were (in the ideal) united by the Soviet spirit of collectivism and mutual assistant, which made joint existence possible.” But on the other, each had his or her desires and needs which “gave birth to daily conflicts of interests and made joint existence unbearable.”
A “very similar” system of centripedal and centrifugal forces existed between Soviet ‘peoples-nationalities’ in the USSR,” Shelin argues, pointedly suggesting that the country was a kind of oversized communal apartment that survived only thanks to force and the absence of any chance of leaving for somewhere better.
“At the twilight of the Soviet epoch,” he notes, “the spirit of party-ness dissipated and the centripedal forces disappeared forever.” In that new situation, “the Soviet cult of ethnicity remained” and has not yet been constrained in most of the post-Soviet states by any other force or set of values.
In the Baltic states and the other non-Russian republics that are now independent, governments have accepted this and sought to build a nation state by relying on and even building up the officially defined ethnicity that was one half of the Soviet “communal apartment” strategy.
But in the Russian Federation, Shelin points out, the situation has been much more difficult because many Russians want their country again to be simultaneously an empire and a nation state – even though they are not in most cases prepared to use the totalitarian methods such a combination requires.
Over the last 15 years, many Russians have concluded that the way out of this situation is to found in the ideology of a “civic nation,” the Moscow commentator says. But they have been disappointed because such a form of identity is, despite what Tishkov and others say, sadly lacking.
“The spirit of ethnicity and the spirit of poly-ethnicity when the population is poly-ethnic are not necessarily tings that stand in opposition to the civic spirit. With greater or lesser success,” Shelin argues, these two very different sets of values “can be combined with the ideology of a civic nation.”
But such ethnically rooted values will never succeed in eclipsing it, if the spirit of a civic nation is absence. And thus, the Moscow analyst continues, “the vacuum of a civic spirit and civic unity” represents “the main [non-ethnic] Russian nationality problem of today.”
In the late 1980s and early 1990s, Shelin says, it appeared that this civic spirit and unity had emerged, but its time quickly passed. And only when this form of identity re-emerges in the Russian Federation will the problems presented by the country’s ethnic, cultural and religious identities be resolved.
“Perhaps,” Shelin concludes, “they will be resolved by those civilized means which V.A. Tishkov proposed, and perhaps by means that are not civilized at all. There are no guarantees here and there cannot be any,” however much the former nationalities minister and others may hope.
But there is one thing that is certain, Shelin adds: While Russians continue to look back and hope for a combination of empire and nation state like the one the Soviets maintained, their country will be as Tishkov argues it should not be defined less by what it is than by what it is not.
That is, Russia will be a country with “a territory, an economy, a political system, and a bureaucracy” but not with “a nation” – and the absence of the latter, Shelin implies, could undermine all the others and spell disaster for the future of the country and its people.
Vienna, May 21 – Many of the Russian Federation’s most intractable problems today concerning the structure of the state and the identity of its citizenry are rooted in “the political miracle” the Bolsheviks pulled off in the 1920s: they were able to reassemble and then maintain the empire while creating a unique kind of nation state.
That combination was possible, Moscow commentator Sergei Shelin argues, for one reason only. The Soviet authorities were ready and willing to use forms and methods “available only to a totalitarian state” in order to imbue a common “spirit” among a critical part of the USSR’s population (http://www.globalrus.ru/opinions/783918).
But once the state was unprepared to use force in a totalitarian way, that common spirit rapidly disappeared, leading both to the disintegration of the Soviet Union and to the unfettered rise of the “national” identities that the Communist authorities had promoted.
At one level, Shelin’s argument resembles those many analysts have made to explain the rise and fall of the Soviet state. But at another, his logic represents a particularly important contribution to understanding not only because of the vocabulary he uses but also because of his application of it to the situation in the Russian Federation.
A commentator who writes frequently on nationalism and ethnic issues in the former Soviet Union, Shelin advances this argument most clearly in his new critique of an April speech by Valeriy Tishkov, former Russian nationalities minister and current director of the Moscow Institute of Ethnology.
Tishkov is “right,” Shelin says, “when he remarks that ‘the USSR … was a national state and the Soviet people was a community which resembled that of a civic nation. But [the noted ethnographer] is correct,” the commentator suggests, “only in part.”
“The quasi-civic people of the Soviet Union was the Communist Party and in general all people who were imbued with the spirit of party-ness. Namely this spirit, as long as it was strong, made the individual a part of a single ‘Soviet people.’ [And] in this sense, the USSR was in reality a national state.”
“But at the same time, the Soviet Union was an empire,” Shelin points out, “with a typically imperial division of its subjects into tribes and also a typically totalitarian harshness in these divisions.” In Soviet times, people were required to declare their “nationality” and those listed as members of that group were considered “’peoples.’”
And out of the creation or at least official designation of such groups, Shelin continues, there arose that very ‘friendship of the peoples’ which V.A. Tishkov perfectly justly would like to do away with. [Indeed, in important regards,] the model of the Soviet Union was its unique characteristic invention – the communal apartment.”
“On the one hand, the Moscow analyst says, “all its residents were (in the ideal) united by the Soviet spirit of collectivism and mutual assistant, which made joint existence possible.” But on the other, each had his or her desires and needs which “gave birth to daily conflicts of interests and made joint existence unbearable.”
A “very similar” system of centripedal and centrifugal forces existed between Soviet ‘peoples-nationalities’ in the USSR,” Shelin argues, pointedly suggesting that the country was a kind of oversized communal apartment that survived only thanks to force and the absence of any chance of leaving for somewhere better.
“At the twilight of the Soviet epoch,” he notes, “the spirit of party-ness dissipated and the centripedal forces disappeared forever.” In that new situation, “the Soviet cult of ethnicity remained” and has not yet been constrained in most of the post-Soviet states by any other force or set of values.
In the Baltic states and the other non-Russian republics that are now independent, governments have accepted this and sought to build a nation state by relying on and even building up the officially defined ethnicity that was one half of the Soviet “communal apartment” strategy.
But in the Russian Federation, Shelin points out, the situation has been much more difficult because many Russians want their country again to be simultaneously an empire and a nation state – even though they are not in most cases prepared to use the totalitarian methods such a combination requires.
Over the last 15 years, many Russians have concluded that the way out of this situation is to found in the ideology of a “civic nation,” the Moscow commentator says. But they have been disappointed because such a form of identity is, despite what Tishkov and others say, sadly lacking.
“The spirit of ethnicity and the spirit of poly-ethnicity when the population is poly-ethnic are not necessarily tings that stand in opposition to the civic spirit. With greater or lesser success,” Shelin argues, these two very different sets of values “can be combined with the ideology of a civic nation.”
But such ethnically rooted values will never succeed in eclipsing it, if the spirit of a civic nation is absence. And thus, the Moscow analyst continues, “the vacuum of a civic spirit and civic unity” represents “the main [non-ethnic] Russian nationality problem of today.”
In the late 1980s and early 1990s, Shelin says, it appeared that this civic spirit and unity had emerged, but its time quickly passed. And only when this form of identity re-emerges in the Russian Federation will the problems presented by the country’s ethnic, cultural and religious identities be resolved.
“Perhaps,” Shelin concludes, “they will be resolved by those civilized means which V.A. Tishkov proposed, and perhaps by means that are not civilized at all. There are no guarantees here and there cannot be any,” however much the former nationalities minister and others may hope.
But there is one thing that is certain, Shelin adds: While Russians continue to look back and hope for a combination of empire and nation state like the one the Soviets maintained, their country will be as Tishkov argues it should not be defined less by what it is than by what it is not.
That is, Russia will be a country with “a territory, an economy, a political system, and a bureaucracy” but not with “a nation” – and the absence of the latter, Shelin implies, could undermine all the others and spell disaster for the future of the country and its people.
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