8 July 2024
By Aleksandr Podrabinek
Source: Radio Svoboda
In Russia, it’s not the rulers that need to be changed, but the opposition. To be more exact, the opposition needs to be changed first, and then the rulers. It can only be done in that order. Looking at things strategically, the opposition are more important than the rulers. From a broad historical perspective, today’s opposition are tomorrow’s rulers. Let’s say an opportunity presents itself for change, the old power structure falls and a new one has the chance to take its place, but there is nothing new to replace it. There is only either the forgotten past or different versions of what is already there.
The absence of a capable opposition is Russia’s chronic misfortune. It is because of this that we continually find ourselves returning to the well-trodden track of despotism, unable to escape. And of course, we blame those in power for everything, because they are the most obvious ones to blame for all our present woes. But while it is less obvious, we ourselves are equally to blame for our inability to create a political opposition capable of presenting society with an attractive alternative to the current regime. Of course, it’s not just the weakness and immaturity of the opposition that is to blame for this unfortunate situation, but citizens themselves, glad to live being led by clowns, indifferent to their own freedom. If it’s the case that every people gets the government it deserves, then it’s also the case that a people gets the opposition it deserves.
Sometimes, rulers have attempted to refashion themselves, but with the same lack of success. They have significant administrative powers to draw on, but still fail to be popular. Popularity is not their goal, either; it’s easier for them to rule with an iron fist than to seek support from society. This is why attempts to Europeanise Russia undertaken by Tsars Boris Godunov and Dmitry Ivanovich (regardless of whether he was a pretender or Ivan the Terrible’s legitimate son) came to nothing. In the same way, the reforms proposed by Count Mikhail Speransky under Aleksandr I and Count Loris-Melikov under Aleksandr II were also ultimately unsuccessful. The reformers not only lacked broad popular support, but never especially looked for it.
The only time the ruling elites and governmental system underwent fundamental change was in 1917, but this was preceded by 12 years of constitutional monarchy and relative political freedom. During this time, the opposition succeeded in consolidating itself and then taking power, but the quality of this opposition was such that the victors of February could not hold on to power, and the victors of October plunged the country into the darkness of seven decades of political terror, lies, and violence.
The collapse of the Communist system at the end of the 20th century was seemingly our chance to escape from this vicious circle, but, predictably, we missed our chance. The opposition to the dying regime came from its former adherents who successfully mastered the new democratic rhetoric and burnished their ranks with the addition of certain respected public figures. Look, for example, at the Inter-Regional Group of Deputies, the democracy-supporting faction of the 1989 Congress of People’s Deputies of the USSR, or the “first legal Soviet parliamentary opposition”, as they called themselves. Twenty-five people were elected to its Coordinating Council: Yury Afanasyev, Gennady Burbulis, Mikhail Bocharov, Vladimir Volkov, Evdokia Gayer, Telman Gdlyan, Viktor Goncharov, Aleksei Emelyanov, Boris Yeltsin, Yury Karyakin, Valentin Logunov, Vilen Martirosyan, Arkady Murashev, Aleksandr Obolensky, Viktor Palm, Mikhail Poltoranin, Gavril Popov, Andrei Sakharov, Anatoly Sobchak, Sergei Stankevich, Vladimir Tikhonov, Nikolai Travkin, Yury Chernichenko, Aleksei Yablokov, and Alla Yaroshinskaya. Of these 25 wonderful ‘builders of Russian democracy’, only four looked respectable: Martirosyan, Obolensky, Sakharov, and Yaroshinskaya. All the others were either former or active communists, with the others from the ranks of the nomenklatura. Of the five co-chairs of the Inter-Regional Group, only the academic Sakharov was non-communist. What kind of lustration, de-communisation, or consistent democratic reforms could be expected from them? This would have involved them lustrating themselves and exiting the political arena. They were after status as public figures, government positions and leading roles in creating public opinion.
This was the archetype for the future democratic opposition, lacking clear plans and too weak to carry things through. Then, with Sakharov’s helping hand, a new political strategy was conceived, doomed to fail: just get rid of the current power structure to start with, and then decide who will build our future and how. One of the co-chairs of the Inter-Regional Deputies Group, Gavril Popov, recounted: “I think that Sakharov’s suggestion played a big role. When it became apparent that the members of the opposition had no common ideas or agenda, he came up with the most productive idea. Let’s not search for things that we are collectively in favour of … let’s just highlight what we are collectively against. We are all against the Communist party of the Soviet Union. That was the collective idea we brought forward. No to Article Six of the Constitution. We united ourselves under this banner, monarchists, anarchists, left-communists, social democrats… We all came together in one single political bloc, ‘Democratic Russia.’”
As was to be expected, such an approach never brought the desired results. The void left by the Communist Party was filled by all the same nomenklatura clique, the road to power having been paved for them by the Inter-Regional Deputies Group and Democratic Russia.
Elena Georgievna Bonner, widow of Andrei Sakharov, recounted in one of her interviews: “The then-intellectual and political elite started by creating the ill-formed Moscow Tribune, a club-like organisation, and then the Inter-Regional Deputies Group later on in the Summer of 1989 to represent the so-called reformist faction of the Congress, but which in reality was not prepared to take decisive action… among the Inter-Regional Group were those who were considered progressive deputies, but they immediately decided to bend to rely on those in power. So everything took place in line with what had happened in the past.”
In the same way as the key to a score determines the sound of the composition, the cynical strategy of allying with just anyone for the sake of attaining power shaped the future of the political opposition. They focused maximum attention on the weaknesses of those in power while ignoring our own. The result, of course, was a foregone conclusion; even if despotic power could be supplanted, there would be no one to replace it. A political structure based solely on a negative attitude to the current regime is not fit for constructive action. It will always suffer from lack of popularity and public support, because everyone knows how to knock something down, but few know how to build. Such an opposition will have a pitiful reputation, its only highly visible component of it being hunger for power. All sacrifices made on the journey to gaining power will prove to have been in vain. A victory achieved will become pyrrhic and it will just be back to square one.
A new opportunity for change came at the end of 2011 and beginning of 2012, when Russian society rose in protest, incensed at the cynical handing over of power from Medvedev back to Putin. And then the same thing happened again: a Russian Opposition Coordination Council, with democratic politicians being joined by God knows who else – nationalists dreaming of building an ethnostate, socialists dreaming of a planned economy and the state having the leading role, Stalinists worshipping Stalin and the gulags, active Duma Deputies with their mandates based on falsified “elections”, popular showmen and fashionable writers searching for glory and larks on the political stage. The result was inevitable; the Coordination Council fell to pieces after less than a year of existence. No one could see the germ of anything constructive in it, the street protests quickly disappeared, and tyranny remained unharmed. The goal of supplanting the powers that be with this mishmash of people was a failure, as was the goal of winning societal support. Those daring enough to risk their freedom and their lives for this vague future for Russia turned out to be few. Of the 45 members of the Coordination Council, nothing was left. Two – Boris Nemtsov and Aleksei Navalny – were subsequently killed; three ended up behind bars – Vladimir Kara-Murza, Ilya Yashin, and the Stalinist Sergei Udaltsov. All the others, having enjoyed their 15 minutes of fame at the podium of protest rallies, either wisely decided to keep quiet or hastily moved abroad, persuading themselves and those around them of the important role to be played by those in political exile.
Today these people do not spend their days dwelling on past mistakes. They confidently assume that everything they did was right, and that their lack of success can be blamed on unfortunate circumstances and factors beyond their own control, like a force-majeure in a captivating political contest. In addition, they are prepared to do it all again as soon as the opportunity presents itself. It is as though it were a harmless card game, where you can just lose, gather the cards together, and start from scratch. But they will fail again, only to move abroad and discuss important topics like the imperfections of the world.
When Russia will have another opportunity for change, or if it will come at all, is unknown. It seems, however, that if this does happen then those who dream of democracy will once again be caught off guard by history. Working on our mistakes is not our strong point. We’d rather put all the blame on our enemies and consider our heroic work well done.
Translated by Oscar Seecharan
