Russia's Dead End: An Insider's Testimony from Gorbachev to Putin

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Russia's Dead End: An Insider's Testimony from Gorbachev to Putin Page 26

by Andrei A. Kovalev


  Against this background, the widely disseminated and convenient myth of the democratic character of Russian power was particularly attractive. Unfortunately for Russians, Boris Yeltsin became a malicious parody of liberalism and democracy that alienated Russians from these concepts for a long time. His unforgivable shortcomings as head of state, his constant lies, and his distortion of the very foundations of democracy created a situation in which many saw the sober, cynical, and rather malicious Putin as a panacea for all the disasters besetting the country. The political and moral trajectory of Yeltsin’s actions was evident from the start. But the myth of his supposed democratic inclinations, which took on a life of its own, suited the reactionaries who were striving to compromise the very notion of democracy.

  Although Russia’s national shame reached its acme under Yeltsin, it was still permissible to tolerate him, as became evident after he had exited the political scene. When Yeltsin finally sank into a condition that was strange for a head of state, as noted previously something entirely unimaginable occurred: he appointed as his successor an officer of the KGB under whom myth-making reached an incalculable height.

  Another myth is that Putin had already retired from the KGB during the Soviet era. Anyone even the slightest bit acquainted with the work of the organs of state security during that time knows this was impossible. Only one possible conclusion follows: Putin was infiltrated into the close circle of one of the most outstanding, if complex, democratic leaders of the USSR, Anatoly Sobchak, the mayor of Saint Petersburg. Was Putin not one of the causes of the political downfall of this undoubtedly extraordinary man? An alternate version holds that Sobchak was, at the least, an alien presence in the democratic movement. This version likewise does nothing to paint Putin in flattering colors as it suggests that he was sent to assist Sobchak. In either case, Putin’s collaboration with Sobchak worked to Putin’s advantage. He presented himself as virtually the right-hand man of a leading democrat, a description that hardly fit Sobchak himself.

  In fairness, I should emphasize that Putin merely inherited many of the Yeltsin myths; however, he improved upon some of them. Putin did not unleash the genocide of the Chechen nation, but he authored the false thesis that international terrorism was flourishing in Chechnya. Putin did not liquidate the emerging parliamentary democracy; he merely took this process to its logical conclusion. Putin did not initiate the persecution of an independent press . . . One could extend this list.

  The myth of Yeltsin’s democratic inclinations carried over to his successor. One must give Putin his due: He juggled the stereotypes so skillfully that for a long time he managed to avoid rejection by his Western partners, who perceived him as a fighter against terrorism and corruption and as a supporter of upholding Russia’s Constitution. Invoking pretexts embraced by Russian, and part of international, public opinion, he succeeded in decisively compromising democracy and liberalism and in fully eliminating them as significant factors in Russian politics.

  The Trials and Tribulations of Creating a National Idea

  As a typical product of his time and his communist education, President Yeltsin was concerned about the need for establishing some sort of ideology. Considerable time and effort were spent by persons of various persuasions in and around the Kremlin to come up with one. Apparently, both Yeltsin and his successors remembered that in the beginning was the Word. During the period of stagnation from Brezhnev through Chernenko (1964–85), the communist leaders ruled the country with words. Those who devised Yeltsin’s ideology, pretentiously called the National Idea, thought that it would solve an entire range of problems. The new Kremlin masters could not live without an ideology and did not want to try. After wracking their brains vainly trying to think of something new, they settled on what they thought were the traditional foundations of Russian mentality—patriotism and Russian Orthodoxy. For many reasons this was unquestionably a mistaken choice.

  Let us begin with patriotism. Love of one’s motherland—one’s village, city, country, people—is an innate human emotion. Although there are numerous aphorisms and sayings directed against patriotism, they usually evoke a sharp response from those who believe that their village, or their fellow tribesmen, or their country is always right no matter what and that others are guilty for any and all disasters. But there is also a different approach, succinctly expressed by the wise Charles de Montesquieu who wrote, “If I knew of something that would serve my nation but would ruin another, I would not propose it to my prince, for I am first a man and only then a Frenchman . . . because I am necessarily a man and only accidentally am I French.” The nineteenth-century Russian essayist Nikolai Dobroliubov considered real patriotism a private expression of love for humanity that is incompatible with enmity toward particular nationalities. Moreover, Dobroliubov insisted that patriotism “excludes any sort of international enmity, and a person animated by such patriotism is prepared to work on behalf of all humankind.”

  Unfortunately, shortly after Russia acquired sovereignty, this expansive concept of patriotism as the foundation for international peace and cooperation was rejected in favor of jingoist or, more accurately, oleaginous patriotism, which in various forms became the prime cause of the country’s numerous disasters. In this connection, the redistribution of the state property of the USSR occurred under patriotic slogans. In the loans-for-shares scheme of 1995 banks lent the nearly destitute government money in exchange for shares of enterprises, resulting in wholesale privatization that benefited the newly emergent oligarchic elite. This process, in which foreign capital was not allowed to participate, led to Russia’s complete political as well as economic bankruptcy, the massive impoverishment of the people, and the consolidation of bandit capitalism. There are many similar examples of self-serving “patriotism.”

  Another foundation of the National Idea that crawled to the surface after the breakup of the USSR was Russian Orthodoxy. After the collapse of communist ideology, a large ideological vacuum occurred in Russia and with it an enormous, extremely promising market for some faith to fill that vacuum. Persons entirely lacking in convictions find there is nothing more profitable than commerce in convictions, including religious ones. They sell that which does not exist for themselves, converting what they consider mirages into power, influence, and money. Naturally, the originally Soviet part of the clergy and businessmen from the Russian Orthodox Church—in other words, those persons in the USSR who had been assigned to working with religions—rushed boldly into this market. It is not difficult to imagine who was entrusted by whom “to work in the field of religion.” Religious publications and the press blossomed. From my own sources I knew for sure that some members of the Russian Orthodox hierarchy were also members or officers of the KGB, and with regard to certain others, I was able to guess what their original and basic place of work was.

  After the adoption of the law on religious freedom, there was a leap from virtually universal aggressive atheism to an era of “candlesticks,” as the leaders of the country, who posed before the cameras holding candles in their hands during church services, came to be called. (Let us note that the ostentatious Russian Orthodoxy of the country’s leadership, while ignoring other religions, was a gross violation of the Constitution since it stipulates that the church is separate from the state and all religions are equal. Religiosity is a personal matter, not for display.) The Bible replaced the works of the “Founding Fathers” of Marxism-Leninism, whom none of the dignitaries, of course, had ever read. And why should they have since there were assorted professors, consultants, and other party-state retainers at hand? In the minds of the nomenklatura and its retainers, trained to accept without question various twists and turns, the firm conviction that God did not exist was replaced by a diametrically opposed and no less firm assurance. For much of the Russian population, it doesn’t much matter what they believe; what is important is to believe in something . . .

  Religion became fashionable for many people. This had nothing to do with faith.
Fashion and faith belong to different orders. Of course, we all decide for ourselves whether to follow the fashion. For example, during perestroika, after a sumptuous meal accompanied by vodka, I declined to be christened by one of the highest officials of the Russian Orthodox Church in his private chapel. It is an understatement to say that I had more than a few questions about him. Chief among them: Why was he so delighted with the murder of Alexander Men?10 Why did he think this had occurred so opportunely? Who had arranged the murder—was it he or his companions in arms and confederates? How could someone occupying one of the highest posts in the Russian Orthodox Church rejoice in a murder, especially the murder of a priest?

  But let us return to the question of whether to follow the current fashion. In contemporary Russia it is not easy to resist the fashion for religion. For example, the blessing of his office was stipulated as a condition for confirming an official of my acquaintance in his new job. Those persons who pose as the most zealous Orthodox are employees of the special services and communists. (Incidentally, I am convinced with good reason that the overwhelming majority of our special service agents are dyed-in-the-wool communists.)

  As with any other fashion, it is profitable and expedient to speculate on religion. After all, who would pass up the opportunity to take advantage of this market! Pseudo priests collect alms on the streets although it is forbidden by law. For substantial sums authentic priests bless whatever comes their way, from the launching pads of intercontinental missiles to the Mercedes of gangsters. Various kinds of pseudo- and quasi-religious agitators incite interdenominational, interethnic, and other kinds of discord. Priests with ruble signs in their eyes see the possibility of selling something at a better price by cozying up to the state.

  In 1994 the Russian Orthodox Church declared that it was impoverished. The government could rescue it if it allowed the church’s Office of Humanitarian Aid to import duty-free wine and cigarettes. Over a period of three years, ten thousand tons of cigarettes came to the Russian Orthodox Church’s Office of Humanitarian Aid. According to various data, from this delivery of cigarettes the church would receive about a billion rubles every week in non-denominated currency. But this was not enough. The church, including the patriarch, played a very active role in the election campaign of 1996. It was rewarded by a government commission, which ruled that the church’s wine, supplied gratis from Germany, was humanitarian assistance for the needs of the Russian Orthodox Church.

  The patriarchy reached such a high degree of cynicism that it even extended its talons to military property: watercraft, naval docks, port equipment, airports, repair facilities, engineering technology, transportation equipment, and communications. It also grabbed hold of the medical-sanitary complex; cultural, sports, warehousing, production, and other investments; and parcels of land and other real estate that formerly belonged to the Ministry of Defense. According to rumors, the Russian Orthodox Church was also involved in the diamond trade, in the tourist business, and in the sale of real estate and material-technical equipment belonging to the former Soviet forces in Germany.

  If one believes the laws in force in Russia, Orthodoxy is separate from and superior to mainstream Christianity. I will not dispute the notion that many of the highest clerics of the Russian Orthodox Church are indeed far removed from Christianity. Naturally, the question arises, were things better before? Of course not. But they were simpler. And there were no fewer genuine believers even though they were forced to conceal their religious convictions. One kind of hypocrisy and sanctimoniousness was replaced by others. Another thing: Russian Orthodoxy became a way of life. How convenient it was to invoke the name of God to cover up all kinds of disgraceful acts. This also became fashionable.

  Be that as it may, whatever it was that replaced the “new historical community of people—the Soviet nation”—it inherited a complicated spiritual and philosophical legacy. The bankruptcy of the previous system was brought about by the gross errors and miscalculations of the authorities, who completely ignored the fact that the country was multi-confessional and multicultural. Unfortunately, this was not limited to the unconstitutional and destructive state takeover of the Russian Orthodox Church while virtually ignoring all the other denominations. An enemy was required. And one was chosen. As noted previously, Islam was picked out as the enemy. It would be difficult to conceive of anything more harmful, dangerous, and unjust.

  In Soviet times the party bureaucracy and the law enforcement machine purposely crushed the natural historic, cultural, and ethno-religious pluralism of Russia (and the USSR as a whole). It was almost as if the regime had placed a bet upon Russian Orthodoxy as the sole religion acceptable to the communists as “the least of all evils” among the variegated religious life of the country. This, along with the role of Islam in national and cultural identity formation, significantly stimulated the upwelling of pro-Islamic sentiment in post-Soviet times.

  After the end of the dictatorship of the CPSU and soon after the attainment of sovereignty by the states that had formed the USSR, however, Islam rushed into the philosophical and ideological vacuum, attracting a part of the population in the same way that Russians were drawn to Russian Orthodoxy. The First Chechen War, along with gross mistakes and miscalculations by the Russian leadership with respect to inter-confessional and nationality policies, has still further exacerbated the problem of Islam.

  But one “enemy” was too few for the state-controlled Russian Orthodox Church. It declared a real holy crusade against all other confessions, groups, and faiths, and it branded all of the nontraditional religions as “totalitarian sects,” although many of them had nothing in common with totalitarianism and the well-known destructive aspects of pseudo religions. The law enforcement agencies as well as thuggish church hangers-on served the Russian Orthodox Church. The diktat of religious and pseudo dogmas led to extremely dubious and unending disputes. The best example is the Moscow Patriarchate’s blind fear of the Vatican and its pathological hatred of Catholicism.

  In 2009 after Kirill, who was previously dubbed the “tobacco metropolitan” for the business ascribed to him, became the patriarch of Moscow and all Russia, the Moscow Patriarchate became an extremely strange organization. I made the acquaintance of the future patriarch Kirill soon after his appointment in November 1989 as chair of the synodal Department of External Church Relations of the Russian Orthodox Church, when I took part in a discussion with him and Deputy Minister Vladimir Petrovsky.

  It was clear to which agency Kirill owed his allegiance. In Soviet times the directors of this department were always KGB agents. Although Kirill was appointed to this position at the height of Gorbachev’s perestroika, and something might already have changed, it is doubtful that the KGB would have relinquished such a plum position. In addition, Kirill had been the representative of the Moscow Patriarchate at the World Council of Churches in Geneva in 1971–74. As confirmation of his secret allegiance, one may also point to the fact that he was joined at this meeting by a former official of the USSR Ministry of Foreign Affairs who was close to him at the time, Father Ioan Ekonomtsev. Kirill’s KGB-FSB alias, Mikhailov, is also widely known. For many years Kirill had the reputation of a reformer and supporter of ecumenism. Soon after his enthronement, however, these illusions dissipated. Moreover, all the illusions regarding his humane qualities and his primary allegiance were also dispelled.

  No matter how offensive they may have found it, people became used to the fact that the Russian Orthodox Church was headed by KGB agents. But they were indignant when this hierarch, an otherworldly white monk who loved to discuss asceticism, was seen wallowing in luxury and wearing an incredibly expensive Breguet watch on his wrist.

  In Moscow there is a famous apartment house, the House on the Embankment or the First House of the Soviets. Initially it was inhabited by the Soviet “elite.” Quite properly, Citizen Gundyaev, better known as Patriarch Kirill, lived there. Former minister of health Citizen Yuri Shevchenko was imprudent enough to live in
the apartment above that of Citizen Gundyaev. As a result, the patriarch came to be identified not only with tobacco and Breguet watches but also with dust once Shevchenko undertook some repairs. It would seem like a worldly matter, but the repairs turned into an affair that nearly cost the ex-minister his apartment. The construction dust supposedly so harmed the property of the patriarch, who had taken a vow of poverty, that Shevchenko’s apartment was seized on the complaint of a certain Citizeness Lidia Leonova who, for some reason, was living in the patriarch’s monastic apartment. In April 2012 the ex-minister paid out 20 million rubles to the patriarch’s tenant.

  When a torrent of questions and criticisms poured down upon the incumbent of the highest office in the Russian Orthodox Church, the Holy One’s favorite, the sadist-maniac with ice-cold eyes Vsevolod Chaplin, chairman of the Synod Department for Church-Society Relations, provided explanations. They leaned toward a conspiracy theory: the story about the apartment was part of a larger campaign “to destabilize the situation in the country which is also aimed against the people, against the army, the police, against the government. . . . At the core of this campaign is a small group of pro-Western Muscovites, and residents of other big cities, the pro-Western part of Russian financial circles, political establishment, and the media elite.”11

  At about the same time, members of the punk group Pussy Riot dramatically exploded the situation prevailing in the Moscow Patriarchate when, wearing masks, they tried to perform a punk prayer to the Virgin Mary in the Cathedral of Christ the Savior on February 21, 2012, and called for the liberation of Russia from Putin. Naturally, their peculiar prayer was immediately interrupted. Maria Alekhina, Nadezhda Tolokonnikova, and Ekaterina Samutsevich were arrested and handed two-year sentences in a penal colony for hooliganism. Following an appeal, the court commuted Samutsevich’s punishment to a suspended sentence.

 

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