Paul Goble
Staunton,
July 6 – Russia has never had a state in the normal sense of the term and does
not have one today, Aleksey Polikovsky argues; instead, it has been and remains
far more like the chiefdoms that have existed in various nomadic societies,
Dmitry Oreshkin says, an arrangement that requires expansion, can’t make
progress and is doomed to failure.
Their
articles, “A Country without a State” (novayagazeta.ru/articles/2018/07/06/77063-strana-bez-gosudarstva) and “State and Chiefdom” (novayagazeta.ru/articles/2018/07/06/77062-gosudarstvo-i-vozhdestvo),
together form both an indictment of what Russians and others call “the Russian
state” and a suggestion as to how it should be understood.
Polikovsky, a commentator for Novaya gazeta, says that “the state in
the understanding of a normal contemporary individual who doesn’t eat his
fellow tribal members like Bokassa or kill his fellow citizens like Asad is a
mechanism of creating and supporting normal life … In the state, thee is
nothing holy or sacred, nothing elevated or pathetic. It is only a mechanism.”
aut
That which people call the state in
Russia, is completely different. It seeks “the strengthening of its own power
over the country. This is the only thing it is seriously occupied with. From
this flow, the arrests and lies, the torture and war, and the constant
frightening of society” to keep it from forming a genuine state.
“All this did not
begin recently,” he continues. “For hundreds of years, the state [gosudarstvo] has existed outside and
over the people, not for the people but against them,” Polikovsky says.
“The sadism of Ivan the Terrible and the sadism of Joseph
Stalin are divided by four centuries. But in fact, the torture chambers of the
two are neighbors. Malyuta Skuratov would have been a general at the Lubyanka.
Yezhkov and Abakumov could have successfully served in the oprichniki.”
“The
sadism is the same, the insanity is the same, the power for its own sake is the
same, even the tortures are one and the same,” he points out. “Four centuries passed,
but the gosudarstvo didn’t change.”
And
this leads to the inevitable conclusion that “there is no state in Russia.
Theft, deception, force, and war all are present but the state is not.” That
which is called the state in Russia doesn’t have the built-in defenses against fools
that states do. And “the results of this are before us.”
“The gosudarstvo
in Russia is archaic and inadequate. It promotes torture. It takes hostages and
martyrs them in camps. It refuses to open the archives which means that the
murders of the present cover for the murders of the past and in this way give a
guarantee of untouchability to the torturers of the future.”
What
all this looks like, Polikovsky says, recalls the movie Jurassic Park in which
a dinosaur breaks into modern times. So too is what many call the Russian
state: it is very much a survival of the past that somehow has continued to
exist in a world that has given rise to a very different kind of animal.
And
here is the tragedy, he concludes. “The gosudarstvo
in its current state is not capable of carrying out any reforms. It can only
generate hatred and launch domestic and foreign wars. Therefore, the only reform
which is genuinely need is a reform of the gosudarstvo
itself.”
Oreshkin
for his apart agrees that there is no state in Russia but suggests that
Politkovsky has failed to go far enough in suggesting what occupies its place in
the Russian landscape. It is a
fundamental error, he agrees to equate the Russian gosudarstvo to “the European understanding of the state.”
Some
writers try to oppose what exists in Russia as compared to that which exists in
Europe as a reflection of the difference between the Asiatic and the European.
But “it is more precise to speak not about ‘the Asiatic’ but about the horde
component which arose out of the nomadic organization of space.”
Thus,
we cannot really speak of Chingiz khan’s state “in the European sense of the
word,” Oreshkin continues. Instead, it was a political organization that
reflected what a 2002 Academy of Sciences collective monograph called The Nomadic Alternative of Social Evolution
(inafran.ru/sites/default/files/page_file/kochevaya_alternativa.pdf).
The political development of such
societies, he says, is based on “chiefdoms” (vozhdestva), on the emergence of
leaders who do not seek “the unification of territory for the development of
agriculture, industry, cities or other things” modern people are used to but on
enriching itself through constant territorial aggrandizement.
Indeed, as the authors of the 2002
study suggest, political unity is needed among nomads “only in the case of wars
for natural resources, the organization of stealing from settled peoples or
expansion of their territory for the establishment of control over trade routes
… [such power centers] are something like ‘a superstructure’ over the settled
agricultural ‘basis.’”
The superstructure “eats up” the basis, they continue. “The
system cannot exist without expansion: it is not stationary. Having achieved a certain spatial maximum,
the chiefdom is condemned to disintegration: over time, the greatest chief loses the ability to get enough resources needed to hold the conquered space in fear and subordination.”
And
then, the authors say and Oreshkin concurs, the process goes into reverse, with
the loss of control over lands and the decay of the chiefdom itself.
A
chiefdom, he argues, is different from a state in a large number of ways: It
does not have fixed borders, it does not have a stable system of taxation, it
does not have a stable system of settlement, it does not allow private
property, it does not invest in its own people and land, and it unites all
powers in a single chief.
For
a chiefdom, space (expansion) predominates over time (development), Oreshkin
continues. It is incapable of progress
and instead exists in a cycle of expansion and collapse followed by a new
expansion. “The idea of evolution could
arise only in a settled culture;” never in a nomadic one.
The
Soviet system institutionalized this chiefdom principle in a new way, what the political
analyst calls “Soviet neo-vozhizm” or neo-chiefdomism. Its leaders celebrated being called leaders
of this kind because that meant they were on a campaign, sometimes virtual as
in the pursuit of “a bright future,” and sometimes literally in wars of
conquest.
Under
only slightly modified names, this system has continued. “The essence of the mobilized
‘internal state’ which Lenin began to build in the form of a super-centralized
militant party and which Stalin continued in the form of a still more mobilized
and centralized form under the Cheka-NKVD-KGB” continues to this day.
“Today
we observe,” Oreshkin says, “the destruction of the last institutions of the
state such as an independent electoral system, judges, urban
self-administration, the media and so on” and their complete re-subordination to
a chiefdom which calls itself a state.
And
that means, he concludes, “that when the structure collapses – and it sooner or
later will do so for purely material causes … --- Russia will be forced too
pass through again the latest cycle of territorial contraction. The current model of political management,”
he says, “leads to this slowly but surely.”
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