The pseudomorphosis of empire

Paweł Rojek, author of The Curse of Empire, interviewed by Dobrosław Rodziewicz

When we think about the policies of Putin’s regime from his first presidential term to the current phase of the war with Ukraine, it is difficult not to ask ourselves whether there is some kind of fatalism in Russia’s history that drives its rulers to aggress against their neighbours and to enslave their own citizens. This also raises the question of identity: is this the same Russia that partitioned the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, or has some new Russia appeared during the aggression against Ukraine, radically different from the “white” and “red” Russia we know from history?

Dr Paweł Rojek

There is a temptation to consider that the whole history of Russia was heading towards what we are facing today. Ukraine’s intelligence service, after the Bucha massacre, published on the internet the personnel composition of the Russian division that served there. The list was likely to make one’s head spin. Not only were there Romanov, Suvorov, Ulyanov or Brezhnev, but also Riepin, Scriabin, Leontiev and Solovyov. Soldiers from the criminal division bore the historical names of Russian artists, writers, philosophers. It looked as if the history of Russia was heading towards the Bucha massacre from the very beginning. A very tempting approach.

Especially now, at a time of the bloody war....

Russian history, however, is far richer. It is also a history of struggle against self-rule, of resistance against totalitarianism, sometimes even of post-colonial reflection. Russia’s culture has been co-creating world culture for centuries. So, we should not too easily help Putin’s regime to play the role of the culmination of Russia’s history. This is what Russian philosophers who support the regime claim. In their view, the current government is realising the premonitions and desires of previous generations of Russians. This is also what Putin’s Russian critics often claim, except that in their case this thesis serves to condemn their own tradition as well as Russian culture as a whole. We should not be caught up in the choice between uncritical support for Putin and total condemnation of the values of Russian culture.

One does not have to deny the value of the complex totality of Russian culture to ask whether the disastrous direction of the evolution of Putin’s regime was somehow encoded in Russian political traditions. One might also wonder whether we are dealing with something Putin planned all along. And finally, how much has his regime undergone internal transformation because of being embroiled in a war that he himself instigated hoping for a quick and spectacular victory?

Of course, looking at the evolution of Putin’s system from today’s perspective, it may seem to us that everything was heading towards such an end. Putin at the beginning proclaimed slogans of liberalisation and conservative modernisation of Russia, which was to become stable and predictable. Today, these look like a smokescreen to conceal preparations for the return of Russian imperialism. Again, this is a very tempting prospect.

And are there good reasons to rule out such a hypothesis?

The Polish historical experience is conducive to suspecting Russia of all the worst things. Whatever does not match our expectations, we treat as a maskirovka, i.e. a disinformation show directed by the secret services. It is interesting that when we talk about other countries, we are usually inclined to assume a much greater complexity of social, political, and economic processes. However, when we talk about Russia, suddenly all the complicated theories become unnecessary, because we already have a ready-made, simple key to explain everything.

And what should be a more sophisticated key to Russia?

Russia is nothing particularly unique. It is, of course, a country with an extraordinary history, but one should not look for some mystique, or diabolical evil, or extraordinary good in it. What has happened and is happening in Russia can be understood based on social science. Although, of course, scientific explanations hit a limit in the case of many individual decisions by the Russian leaders.

Certainly, from the Polish perspective, there is a worrying repetition of certain features of Russian policy towards its neighbours. It is as if Russia is unable to control its possessiveness and brutality.

What given societies can or cannot do is a product of their history and current circumstances. However, conditions are changing. We have seen age-old empires crumble and transform. We have seen such transformations in Germany, Japan or Britain. An excellent comparative case for Russia is Turkey. Former empires can evolve according to different patterns. There is no reason to believe that Russia will be an exception and will not follow known patterns. It is only necessary to take into account various factors, not just the supposedly unchangeable Russian soul. I believe that this is how the evolution of Putin’s system of power can be explained. In the beginning, his main slogan was to move away from any ideology in favour of internal modernisation. While his vision was to maintain or regain Russia’s strong position, he explicitly ruled out any expansion. Putin claimed outright that the Soviet empire was a burden on Russia’s internal development. This does not mean, of course, that he embraced Western liberalism and the principles of liberal democracy. His modernisation was to be conservative in nature. Nor did he completely abandon anti-Western rhetoric.

Before our eyes, in the space of two decades, a fundamental transformation of this model has taken place. In my opinion, it is not at all necessary to think that this was all a foregone conclusion and planned from the start. There are, of course, behind-the-scenes activities, but they are only one factor in shaping international policy. And if as a rule we do not believe that they can convincingly explain political phenomena in, for example, Poland or other countries, there is no reason to believe that this will be any different in the case of Russia.

Well, let us try to reconstruct the process that transformed Putin, who preached non-confrontational modernisation, into a ruthless dictator and aggressor embroiled in a war in which he is the stronger party but has so far failed to defeat Ukraine.

I will offer two explanations. The first, with which I disagree, is fatalistic in nature. According to it, any attempt at reform in Russia must end in the return of authoritarianism. Anyone who governs Russia, regardless of his or her intentions, sooner or later collides with the Russian soul. Russians are intrinsically slaves who, in addition, want to enslave others. In order to maintain power, it is therefore necessary to adapt to this mentality. This is what happened to the idealistic communists after the revolution, and it is what happened to the liberal modernisers after perestroika. And it will always be so. Whoever gains power in Russia will have to succumb to the fatal influence of the Russian soul.

So, of the Russian cultural code?

That is right. Cultural code is a more modern term for what in literature has been called, sometimes rather ironically, the Russian soul. So, in Russia, everything ends up being a plot. It doesn’t matter with what ideas one gains power, one inevitably ends up as an autocrat anyway.

An autocrat and aggressive expansionist. Poles and much of the rest of the world are most concerned about the latter trait.

Russian authoritarianism is obviously a source of expansionism. This is because Russians agree to be enslaved on condition that others are enslaved too. This was brilliantly expressed by Lermontov in his long poem Ismail-Bey. The tsar’s slave can take pride in the fact that his tsar is or soon will be the ruler of the whole world.

Such a popular explanation of the evolution of Putin’s regime from conservative modernisation to neo-imperial expansion, however, assumes essentialism. For it assumes that Russian cultural codes are immutable. They serve to explain other phenomena and have no explanation themselves. Such an approach in the social sciences is methodologically highly suspect. Let us do a thought experiment. When someone says that no modernisation projects can succeed in Poland because Poles have an anarchic soul and are culturally programmed to fail, we feel that it is not that simple. Undoubtedly, we have certain cultural codes, some of which actually presuppose distrust of the state, but it is clear that they are themselves the product of certain historical conditions, such as many years of slavery. However, since something is the product of certain historical conditions, it can also change under the influence of other circumstances. It is therefore right to believe that the Polish mentality can gradually change. I do not know why it should be different with the Russians. Their mentality has also been shaped by certain economic or political conditions. It has undoubtedly been decisively influenced by hundreds of years of self-rule. It was enslavement that produced a slave soul, not the other way around. An enslaved man, in order to preserve the remnants of his dignity, may identify himself with power and seek to enslave others.

This could partly explain the widespread acceptance of the aggression against Ukraine shown by ordinary Russians, but what influences the mentality, the transformed mentality of the elites of the power camp? They include many people who have suffered tangible losses due to sanctions after the aggression against Ukraine. Their assets in the West have been frozen, threatened with confiscation. They cannot travel to many countries. And yet they are used to living in luxury.

Here again, two explanations are possible. According to the first, the Russian elites have returned to their true Russian nature. For a long time, it remained dormant. Rich Russians travelled to the West, sent their children to study there, felt part of a global society. Eventually, however, the dark Russian soul awoke in them. They began to believe in Russia’s mission, despise the West and support Putin unconditionally. With pain, perhaps, but eventually they renounced their Italian villas and yachts on warm seas. They simply converted to Russia.

And what is the alternative explanation?

Personally, I find it hard to believe in such a sudden surge of idealism among the Russian elites, which have been famous for years for their cynicism and pragmatism. However, their surprising behaviour can be understood if one looks at the Russian political system in a broader context. Any power must be based on public consent. Even authoritarian power cannot simply be based on violence. At least part of society must accept it. There are different ways of legitimising power. Perhaps the most obvious source of legitimacy is through democratic processes. We usually accept the power we have elected for ourselves. In Russia, however, the elite has been very successful in preventing real democratisation for years. Admittedly, there are some elements of parliamentarism, but they are almost overtly façade-like in nature. The authorities, for example, have for decades created one opposition party after another to channel some of the social discontent, but not to threaten the system. This is a very well researched process. Real democracy, which could lead to a real change in power relations, is beyond the horizon of the Russian elites’ imagination. For they are convinced, probably quite rightly, that real democratisation would simply threaten their existence.

And that is why the licensed “systemic opposition” remains in the Duma and the anti-systemic Navalny remains in a penal colony.

That is right. What is more, Russians largely understand how this system works and don’t count on any change. What can the authorities do in such a situation to ensure their legitimacy? There are basically two well-known options: bread and games. First of all, authoritarian power can be accepted and even enjoy a lot of support if it provides prosperity. People who live in relative affluence can be satisfied with those in power even if they have no real influence over them. This was the idea behind Putin’s system. For a while it actually worked. Raw materials were expensive, the state made money from selling them, the elites were able to share the profits with society to gain its approval. Russians, after the traumatic experience of the 1990s, when they had freedom but no security, willingly traded democracy for relative prosperity. Clearly, however, we have reached the limit of development in such a model. The world has also changed a lot, exports of raw materials no longer pay so well.

So, the time has come for the games.

Exactly. This is the role fulfilled by appealing to the post-imperial sentiments of Russians. They still cannot come to terms with the collapse of the former empire, especially since for generations it was from the power of their state that they derived their individual sense of worth. This is a perfectly natural reaction to the fall of an empire, which we have seen in many cases. Usually, however, former empires democratised and modernised so that imperial sentiments slowly faded over several generations. Russia, however, remained undemocratic and development quickly encountered constraints. The only option for the ruling elite thus became to appeal to the still-vibrant imperial emotions of the Russian people. Faced with maturing protests, Putin cynically decided to activate the post-imperial syndrome, i.e., an internal ideological turn and flex his muscles externally. The effect was electrifying. It turned out that Russians are extremely susceptible to such manipulation. Awakened imperial emotions became the fuel of power for a long time. Russians felt that, although they had no influence over power and were getting poorer, they could at least be proud of their country, which had preserved traditional values and was just getting up from its knees.

And it is beginning to rouse fear.

Exactly. Every time Putin took some aggressive action, the support columns skyrocketed. It was the perfect solution.

Putin’s system is thus based on a simple calculus. We have a choice between democratisation, modernisation and ideologization. We don’t want democratisation, modernisation doesn’t work out too well for us, so ideologization remains. This mechanism seems to me the most plausible explanation for the turn in Russian politics. It is not at all a sudden mass “conversion” of the elites, but the result of a painfully pragmatic calculus. Russia’s rulers have decided that it is already better to lose their yachts moored on the Côte d’Azur than their power in the Kremlin. I suppose you could find many specific people who first belonged to the cynical Soviet nomenklatura, then took part in perestroika and democratic reforms, went on to engage in conservative modernisation and are now calling for a close ranks fight against the rotten West. Ideas change, but they always serve to preserve their own position. Which is a little comforting, because perhaps the more dangerous ones are the true fanatics possessed by a lust for world conquest.

With such an analysis, it is also apparent that we are not doomed to determinism. For it seems that Russian imperial emotions, as elsewhere in the world, could be extinguished by political subjectivity or sustainable prosperity. After all, Russians are not the only ones to have experienced the disintegration of their empire. Post-imperial sentiment is now the most readily available, but not the only possible fuel for Russian politics.

At the same time, it is difficult to imagine that Russia under Putin would remain free in the current situation to possibly switch to another fuel for mobilising support for power.

This fuel, however, is now running out. Previously, the modernisation potential was exhausted when it became clear that Russia in its current form was incapable of building sustainable prosperity. Now the ideological potential is running out, as it turns out that Russia in its current shape is incapable of winning a war even against a weaker neighbour. Putin’s system has fallen into a trap. Instead of a quick success that would have established Russian politics for decades, it has embroiled itself in an extremely brutal, bloody and probably long war that exposes the weakness of the state. Ukraine, which the Russians despised, is putting up a spectacular resistance to them. The West, which was supposed to be weak and divided, has unexpectedly turned out to be surprisingly united and determined. All this may lead to the conclusion that Russia, contrary to its image, is not a power at all. And such a conclusion undermines the effectiveness of legitimisation through mobilisation. Thus, after the failure of the modernisation project, we have the failure of the ideological project.

But in the Russian Federation we do not see a drastic decline in the Russians’ support for waging a war still not won and costing the lives of a huge number of young people.

What is most frightening and fascinating is precisely the astonishing stability of the current situation. The Russians, in theory, should see more and more clearly that they are living in a captivity that brings them neither prosperity nor a sense of greatness, and yet nothing changes. For almost two years they have somehow managed to cope and still support the system en masse. Apparently, Putin has appealed to mechanisms that are extremely deeply nested in the Russians’ psyche. I have no idea how much longer this can go on. I didn’t believe the war broke out, and then I didn’t believe it could last this long. It must end somehow, though. Every possible scenario, however, seems difficult to imagine. Besides, in such situations a lot also depends on the individual decisions of the leaders, and these escape general description.

I am not going to urge you to predict the unpredictable, just to describe the system we face in Putin’s Russia. In what way is it similar to and in what way is it different from the systems known in Russia before. What Putin’s Russia has in common with “white” Russia, for example, is the role of Orthodoxy. Putin himself, in turn, is a former Soviet KGB officer who speaks highly of Stalin, though no longer of Lenin.

On the surface, Putin’s regime appeals to both of these historical patterns. However, it is not all that simple. For Putin is not really rebuilding any empire. Empires are based on ideologies that set certain goals and constrain certain actions. These must be taken very seriously as they set the framework for legitimate action. Putin’s regime, however, has no official imperial ideology. Modern Russia is in fact only a pseudomorphosis of an empire. It looks like a revived empire, but the outer form conceals something quite different. Just like the weathered earth that fills the place left by crystals. This is best seen when comparing today’s Russia with the former Soviet Union. The USSR was a true empire based on a universalist ideology. Communism envisaged the victory of the proletariat across the globe. The USSR was the first country to realise this historic goal and had a mission to carry the revolution to other countries. Such an ideology perfectly justified the Communist Party’s power inside the country and expansion outside. The Soviet Union’s emblem, after all, included a globe.

Bringing the answer to the question of where the borders of the USSR were.

Ultimately, it was to have no borders. Every country could and should have become another union republic. Such an inclusive ideology allowed not so much different nations, but the elites of different nations to identify with the policies of the Soviet empire. And what is the ideology behind Putin’s regime? One did see Soviet flags on Russian tanks invading Ukraine, but these are only superficial references. If we look deeper, we find no ideology comparable to communism. Behind Russia’s armed expansion today is only the vision of a certain cultural community based on Orthodoxy and the Russian language with possible additions such as “traditional values”. It is only Russkiy Mir, or Russian World, Russian Peace...

Russian Order?

Maybe so. But one thing is certain: the ideology of the Russian order is a miserable shred of former imperial imagery.

Well, it doesn’t sound like a convincing justification for world conquest.

Exactly. The concept of the Russian world is merely enough to justify the conquest of Donetsk, the occupation of Belarus and the meddling in the internal affairs of the Baltic states, which have a large Russian-speaking minority. And that is it. Compared to previous forms of Russian imperialism, this is an extremely limited formula, actually having a national, nationalist character. The idea of a universalist empire simply contradicts the idea of a national superpower. Even if this nation is to include not only Russians, but also Belarusians and so-called Lesser Ruthenians. Nationalism lends itself to internal mobilisation, to justifying the onslaught against neighbours, but in the long run it prevents the construction of wider projects. For there is no meaningful offer for the conquered peoples.

And why has Putin’s regime adopted a nationalist ideology with the imperial traditions of “white” Russia at its disposal, when universalist communist ideology, however, can no longer be revived?

Before researching ideas in Russia, it is necessary to understand what function they serve. If the diagnosis I have presented is correct, today they are merely a tool for mobilising society. The authorities therefore treat them instrumentally. Hence, it refers to a whole repertoire of symbols of Russia’s greatness, often contradictory. For it is only concerned with compensating for the lack of subjectivity and the stalling of modernisation. In power, therefore, are still pragmatists, not fanatics. Only that in the current circumstances, it is the appeal to ideas that pays off most.

So, what ideas remain available to the authorities?

Russia has a long history during which it has developed an impressive array of different ideologies. They all lie dormant in Russian intellectual circles. If we search well, we can find contemporary Eurasianists, communists, pan-Slavists, proponents of the idea of a Third Rome. However, it seems that the greatest resonance in society is precisely caused by Russkiy Mir. It is a very narrow ideology. It allows one to go beyond the borders of the Russian Federation, but not too far. Paradoxically, contemporary Russia resembles the late Romanov empire, which relied on nationalism. This is what caused its disintegration.

Imagine that the Russian-Ukrainian conflict is frozen. Ukraine agrees to severe territorial losses. Russia agrees to halt attacks. Some tentative peace follows. How, in such a case, will Russia, stimulated with its current ideology, shape its further relations with the West, with Western Europe?

Paradoxically, Russian nationalism is not the worst option for the world. This is because it need not be expansionist at all but can evolve towards isolationism. If Russia focuses on itself, it can let go of external aggression, which is what we would most like to see. There has long been an underlying isolationist current in Russian culture. Many thinkers believed that it was the over-distraction, the preoccupation with the affairs of the whole world, that led to Russia’s downfall. Russia has its own inner truth, which it should develop. Alexander Solzhenitsyn, among others, thought so. He believed that the development of the Soviet empire was to Russia’s detriment, although he could not accept the separation of Belarus and Ukraine from Russia. Isolationist Russian nationalism is perhaps the most likely option for the future. Such a Russia would probably still be anti-Western, but at least it would not be expansive. Instead of expanding its influence, it would explore the abysses of its being. It seems, however, that the condition for such an evolution is the acute failure of the last expansionist project. That is, an embarrassing defeat in the war against Ukraine.

We will have to wait for that yet. When asking you earlier about the role of ideology in Russia’s political life, I mentioned Orthodoxy as a link between Putin’s Russia and Tsarist Russia. Is the Orthodox Church simply a tool of Putin’s regime and supports every policy of the Kremlin, or is it the case that in Putin’s system the Moscow Patriarchate has subjectivity and also influences Russian policy itself?

The prevailing belief in Poland is that the Russian Orthodox Church simply follows the Kremlin’s orders. Unfortunately, it appears that Patriarch Kirill is in fact an active co-creator of Putin’s system. According to analyses, the Orthodox Church preceded the development of Putin’s ideology. It created the clichés that state propaganda then began to use. In particular, the concept of Russky Mir was originally shaped by intellectuals, theologians and church activists. The idea was first tested on the faithful and then applied on a large scale by the state. So, we are dealing with a real symphony of secular and religious power. However, this also opens up some possibilities for action. The voice of the Orthodox in the world can play a great role. A real furore in Russia was caused by the declaration of Orthodox theologians from all over the world against the Russian assault on Ukraine. They outright accused the Moscow Patriarchate of heresy. This is a very painful blow, as it destroys Russia’s image as the leader of world Orthodoxy.

Do you also have something encouraging to say about Russia’s attitude towards Poland? The fears that if Ukraine is defeated, Putin may send troops against the Baltic states and Poland do not seem far-fetched.

There is a war going on and the threat is of course real. However, aggression against Poland would result from military, not ideological, reasons. For the first time in several centuries, Russia does not have any imperial project involving Poland. Poles are excluded from participating in Russky Mir for cultural, linguistic and religious reasons. Russia simply sees us as an enemy, not a future inhabitant of its world. And that is comforting in a way.

Does Russia no longer see us in its sphere of influence? Is it enough for us to fear her military power?

In Russian intellectual discussions and in the media, threads of a certain ideological community between Russians and Poles sometimes appear. However, it does not mean that Poland belongs to the Russian world, but only that, like Russia, it is critical of the contemporary tendencies of Western civilization. Poland therefore has a place in the global conservative coalition created by Russia. However, few people in Poland fall for this today. This is where our historical experience comes in handy. We understand perfectly well that Russia uses various noble slogans only to cover up the brutality of its policies. This was the case in tsarist times, but also in Soviet times. This makes the voice of conservatives critical of Russia so important today. They play a similar role to the anti-Soviet socialists of the past. They question the credibility of Russian propaganda.

Could the war in Ukraine, the world’s reactions to it, and what Putin’s regime is doing to Russia mean that Russia’s complex, Euro-Asian identity may become less European and more Asian than before?

Russia has always had a bit of a problem figuring out where it was. In the past, however, it saw itself rather as an eastern part of Western culture. This was associated with a vision of history in which the enslavement of Christian Rus by the Mongols was treated as a historical misfortune. Even the Bolshevik revolution was carried out in the name of communist ideology, which came from the West. About a hundred years ago, however, an alternative vision emerged in which Russia began to see itself as a proud steppe empire created by the Mongols. Eurasianism was first a desperate provocation of the younger generation of white emigrants, but after the collapse of the USSR, it gained considerable popularity among the Russian intellectual elites. The most famous contemporary neo-Eurasianist is, of course, Alexander Dugin. However, it is unclear to what extent the vision of Russia as Eurasia actually corresponds to Russian beliefs. It seems that the official ideology of Russky Mir still appeals more to them. However, if Putin’s policy resulted in the popularization of Eurasianism, we would be dealing with an epoch-making transformation of Russian identity. It is sometimes said that the loss of Ukraine is Russia’s regression to the times before the Pereyaslav agreement in 1654. The Eurasian turn would be a return to the times before the Battle of Kulikovo Field in 1380.