Not only is this a relatively brief (302 pages) history of Russia’s first 1,000 years, but the author wrote it intentionally to highlight those aspects of Russia’s past upon which President Putin is drawing to support his ongoing invasion of Ukraine, a task which he does extremely well.
In the process, he illustrates the foolishness behind any peoples’ claim to be of pure stock, whether that be like Hitler’s foolishness in touting the Aryan race or with Putin’s assertion that Ukrainians are part of great Russia.
Professor Figes, who has written several books about Russia, does us all the great favor of reminding us that there is much that is legitimate in Putin’s grievances against the West. While such do not justify his invasion of Ukraine, they remind us that there are, indeed, much larger issues at play than just Russia vs. Ukraine.
Indeed, Figes argues – and I think the historical facts support him – that “during his first term in office, Putin looked to further Russia’s integration with the West. In interviews he spelled out his vision of the country as ‘part of western European culture’ and said that he was open to the possibility of Russia joining NATO and the European Union. Everything depended on how Western institutions would respond, on how NATO, in particular, would act in regions where the Russians had security concerns, historic links and sensitivities which, if offended or ignored, might provoke an aggressive response from Moscow…. [This] was a recurring pattern running right through Russian history since at least the eighteenth century. Russia wanted to be part of Europe, to be treated with respect. But if it was rejected by the West’s leader, or if they humiliated it, Russia would rebuild itself and arm itself against the West.”
Unfortunately, Figes argues, and again I agree with him, NATO and the European Union essentially “blew it.” “Instead of trying to bring Russia into new security arrangements for Europe,” he writes, NATO kept it isolated. The US and its North Atlantic allies acted as if the Cold War had been ‘won’ by them, and that Russia, the ‘defeated’ power, need not be consulted on the consequences of the Soviet collapse in regions where the Russians had historic interest. The effect of Western actions was to reinforce the Russians’ own resentments of the West. On the back of years of anti-Western propaganda during the Cold War it did not take a lot to persuade them that a hostile West refused to recognize their country as an equal and took advantage of its current weakness to diminish it. This was the basis on which Putin built his anti-Western ideology.”
In making such an analysis, Figes is clearly not in any way justifying or supporting Putin’s actions in Ukraine. But he is doing something very important by reminding us that situation A of our “now” did not just pop up out of nowhere with no context or history but, rather, that all of “the present” is a product of “the past.” Moreover, if we wish to understand and resolve current issues it is essential that we understand and respect those which preceded them.
Unfortunately, the gulf between the West’s collective understanding of what is going on in Ukraine and Putin’s – and to a large extent, the Russian peoples’ – view of it is so damned wide, that it is truly hard to envision ways in which this particular nasty genie is ever “put back into its bottle.”
Putin’s View of Russia and “Russianness”
Greater Russia and the “Russian people”
There is an old Soviet joke – with renewed aptness for today – that said, in essence, “The future is fairly predictable, what is impossible to understand is the past.” And the reason for this droll observation is that Russians – especially its statist and religious rulers – have always and repeatedly interpreted the past to support their present!
But not all of, perhaps even not even most of this, was to intentionally deceive or misrepresent, for the mists of time make distinguishing exactly what happened 1,000 years ago very difficult.
Take the very origin of “the Russians” themselves. The great territorial swath that is Russia today – and which had been both Tsarist and Soviet Russia for hundreds of years – began very modestly in Kievan Rus, an entity centered around the now Ukrainian city of Kiev. Who were these people? Slavic peoples originally from central Asia, most likely, with a smattering of other Europeans. Later, as Moscow (Muscovy) came into existence and Kiev itself became less important as other cities, such as Novgorod, gained in status, it appears that a significant number of Northmen – i.e. Vikings – came to intermingle with the population.
In these early years, not only was there not “one people,” there was not even a “state.” Governance remained highly local and, unlike in Europe at the time, without many over-arching loyalties towards someone calling themselves “king” or “ruler.”
What is important to note from these times, however, was the close, ongoing, but not always friendly relationship between the peoples living in today’s central Europe – including the western lands of today’s Ukraine – and those in today’s eastern Europe – eastern Ukraine and western Russia. Like many in medieval western Europe their primary experiences and loyalties lay with their home city, and not primarily with any larger region or statist entity.
It took centuries for the tsars as we tend to think of them – autocratic rulers over large territories – to come into being. In the earliest years, the tsars of Muscovy asserted more authority and control than they actually had but, over time, they began to extend their territory north, south, east and west. And, in doing so, they encountered hostile pushbacks from other peoples – in fact, such contact was often occasioned by those other peoples crowding into “Russian” lands.
So, to the north, Russia for centuries struggled against Sweden in an effort to secure access to the Baltic Sea. In the more central lands west of Russia she frequently encountered – as did the Ukrainians (who never had their own “state” until modern times) – both Poland and Lithuania. Today’s resentments by both the Poles, Lithuanians, and Baltic republics date back centuries, as these were also the very lands over which titanic struggles were waged in the first and second world wars of the 20th century. And for the very same reasons: relatively flat lands with no natural boundaries but teeming with abundant resources, these were prizes that would give their “owners” rich access to things both desirable and necessary.
In the Middle Ages, the Russians asserted that there were three groups of “Russians”: the Great Russians of Russia proper, the White Russians of Ukraine, and the Little Russians of Lithuania.
And Russia also long longed for access to the seas in the south, too, which explains its centuries-long obsession with the Crimean Peninsula as key to the Baltic Sea and, through Constantinople (Istanbul today) to the Aegean and Mediterranean Seas. But to get there and remain, they had to conquer several Turkic and Mongol descendant tribes living there.
And to the east, the increasingly empty, incredibly broad stretch of land reaching to the Pacific Ocean, Russia also fought local residents in order to expand her reach.
Russia “won” most of this vast territory in the course of a few hundred years beginning in the 17th century, and these are the times when some of her most powerful and celebrated Tsars reigned, including such figures as Peter the Great and Catherine the Great.
Russia as the “Third Rome”
Most of the territory of Russia – at any phase of its expansion – was occupied by peasants and, like peasants everywhere seemingly, they were very pious. The land was holy, and – pagan or Christian – they tended to be quite devout.
The early tsars recognized the value that would accrue to them if they could harness this piety as but another means to tether the loyalty of the people to the throne. They checked out the religious faiths of the Turks (Muslims), the West (Rome) and the East (Constantinople), and eventually settled upon the Greek Orthodox tradition – that embraced and followed throughout the Eastern Roman Empire with its capital at Constantinople – as the one most compatible. They frankly regarded Western Christianity, with its headquarters in Rome, as corrupt, just as the City of Rome – the First Rome – had fallen into disrepair. Constantinople was the Second Rome but, after it fell to the Turks in 1453, the tsars and their Eastern Orthodox patriarchs happily proclaimed that now Moscow was the Third – and last – Rome. This assertion was part of the tzars’ reasoning that Moscow – indeed, Russia – was head of all true Christians, especially the various Slavic peoples who also adhered to Eastern Orthodox Christianity.
Together with how the Tzars came to frame the Russian people as those true Russians of blood wherever they lived, so also did this claim about Moscow being the Third Rome reinforce their understanding of their sacred duty towards all Eastern Orthodox adherents as being their protectors. These two ideas – the universalism of Russia and her obligations flowing from her status as the Third Rome help explain her centuries-long interest in central and eastern Europe as well as the Slavic and Balkan states to her south.
No Separation of Church and State
Unlike in the West, there was no tradition from the very beginning of different “realms” of authority for the state vis-à-vis the church. In reality, in Russia the Church has always been subordinate to the political wishes of the Tsar and, as is clear today from the Patriarch of Moscow’s endorsement of Putin’s efforts in Ukraine, the Russian Orthodox Church has repeatedly played a key role in reinforcing the concept of the absolute loyalty Russian people owe to their statist sovereign, whether that be a tzar, the head of the Soviet Union, or the current president of Russia.
The lack of what Figes terms “the building blocks of democracy”
One of the reasons why Putin is able to rule as he does is that – like most Russian leaders before him – he does not have to contend with the pesky realities of a free press nor, very importantly, any strong, relatively independent bodies, whether political, economic, or social. Russia never developed the tradition of strong labor unions, for example, which can wield some semblance of countervailing power to that of the state. Nor was there a legacy of strong city or regional governments that functioned independent of the central government – everything had long been centralized, although as Figes makes clear this is far from implying efficient direction or administration from the tzarist structure.
Because of this, and because the tradition of “what the tzar/commissar/president” says must be obeyed and, moreover, must be the truth, Putin – like other heads of the Soviet and Russian states before him – is quite able to weave his own interpretation of “the facts” so that the majority of the Russian people accept, if not always believe, them.
In sum, Putin’s arguments are not without a basis in history, even if he is also dipping deep into the mythology long relied upon by Russia’s rulers, and the proven ability of his people to absorb tremendous sufferings and hardships – plus the legacy of great human loss during war – means that any hopes in the West for a “short” war, or the idea that Putin will soon “give up,” are baseless.
How Might This Impasse – this Gulf of Misunderstanding – Be Resolved?
I wish to add the following: For all of these reasons, I believe only a bold effort by the United States to implement a broad discussion concerning future European security for all the countries of Europe – very much including Russia – has a chance to essentially “reset” the stage for the kind of settlement that can bring sustainable peace to the continent. Note that such an effort would not be centered on Ukraine but, rather, on attaining the kind of inclusion of Russia as an equal partner in European affairs.
Unfortunately, I don’t believe this idea has a snowflake’s chance in hell because of the rigid postures of both sides. President Biden – unlike his French and German counterparts – appears to regard all of Putin’s concern about Western encroachment and the dismissal of Russia’s “rightful place” as lacking any merit whatsoever.
Thus, not only will the suffering and tragedy of Ukraine likely continue, but so will the stand-off between Russia and “the West.”
A true – and unnecessary – tragedy!