RUSSIA IS A COUNTRY about which we hear a great deal but still know so little.
When I tell people that Russia is not only the largest country in the world
but that Siberia alone is bigger than the United States (including Alaska)
and Western Europe combined, they gasp. They wonder at the scale and
diversity of Russia's landscape. They are entranced by reports of witches
who communicate with forest sprites, shamans who worship their ancestors,
and at mountain horsemen who believe that the campfire over which they heat
a kettle of tea is sacred and who therefore rebuked me for kicking at a
stray log. It all seems so very unRussian.
And in a way it is. In a 10,000-mile journey from Murmansk to Vladivostok to
explore what Churchill described as “a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an
enigma” I was at first astonished and then touched that so much
individuality of faith and culture had survived - and now flourishes -
despite the long repressive years of Soviet communism.
My first experience of Russia was in the dark days of the Cold War when, like
all Western reporters, I was watched closely by the KGB and strong-armed by
minders. Moscow was dingy and downtrodden, its citizens asphyxiated by a
corrupted ideology, a city where the closest you could get to the truth was
the propaganda pumped out by Pravda.
On this trip, through Putin's Russia, though the FSB (the successor to the
KGB) doubtless watched us closely all the way - we were filming the BBC
series, Russia: A Journey with Jonathan Dimbleby - we were free to go very
much where we wanted and people spoke to me without inhibition. Initially I
found the experience a touch intimidating. Russians tend to look at you with
suspicion, they don't smile readily and they can be brusque to the point of
rudeness.
But once I delved below the surface - helped by downing gargantuan quantities
of vodka - I discovered warmth and honesty in abundance. That may sound as
though I felt myself to have landed on another planet and, in truth, that is
how I sometimes felt. The Russians are different, which was why the
opportunity to discover their attitudes - towards the past, present, and
future - was such an exhilarating though sometimes daunting experience. In
my book (Russia: A Journey to the Heart of a Country and its People) I
explore the past because it is so crucial to understanding the present and
the future. A tormented and tragic history has eaten deep into the national
psyche. It has nurtured a remarkable resilience but also a deep cynicism
about all things except the Motherland. After half a millennium of autocracy
or dictatorship, it is hardly surprising that a thread of fatalism has been
woven into the Russian soul. “Live today because tomorrow you might die”
could be selected as the national motto - but only just in preference to its
obverse, “Die today because tomorrow you might live”.
I met Russians of all types and was enriched by the experience. No one was
ever boring or self-pitying and they always had a tale to tell. Yet, the
farther I went and the more I understood, the more disconcerted I became.
Yes, Russians are a diverse people in origin and ethnicity. But in attitude
they are remarkably uniform. Two tendencies in this capitalist autocracy
cross the deep gulf between the haves and the have nots: an aversion to core
principles of liberal democracy and a passion for the Motherland. Both help
to explain the vicissitudes of Putinism.
Democracy in Russia is synonymous with the insecurity and anarchy of the
Yeltsin years and is contrasted nostalgically with the security and order of
the Soviet era, especially under Stalin's benign dictatorship. (That the
author of the Terror and the architect of the Gulag was also a mass murderer
is conveniently written out of the script.) The effect of this popular
sentiment has been profoundly corrosive. The media is muzzled, parliament is
a sham, elections are rigged, and the courts are mere servants of the
Kremlin. Putin calls this charade “sovereign democracy”. In truth Russia is
now a kleptocracy, owned and run by the oligarchs and the security services,
a crypto-fascist state. And there has been hardly a murmur of protest. On
the contrary, Putin enjoys approval ratings that would keep Gordon Brown in
office even after the next election.
The Prime Minister is also wired into Russia's passion for the Motherland.
Born of past conflicts and the sacrifices endured to expel a succession of
foreign invaders, this translates into a fierce nationalism that borders on
xenophobia. Russians felt humiliated when Nato rebuffed the Kremlin's
application for membership in the Nineties. When the Kremlin now tells them
that national security is threatened by Nato encirclement and the proposed
deployment of an anti-ballistic misile system a few hundred kilometres from
their western front, they do not doubt it for a moment.
Putin's energy-fuelled assertiveness on the world stage delights his
“electorate”. Tsar? Autocrat? The label matters not because, in the eyes of
the Russian people, he has restored the Motherland to its proper place in
the firmament. From the perspective of the Russian people, the invasion of
Georgia and the recognition of Abkhazia and South Ossetia as independent
republics was not only righteous but it also gave Nato a bloody nose into
the bargain.
None of this means that another Cold War is upon us or that Ukraine is the
next domino. The world has moved on and is infinitely more complex. Russia
belongs to the dysfunctional family of “great powers” that flex their
muscles as they jostle for survival in the New World Disorder bequeathed by
the end of the Cold War. They would all do well to put the diplomatic
megaphone to one side and remember that “jaw-jaw” is a lot better for all
than “war-war”. Meanwhile, fasten your seatbelts; we are in for a bumpy ride.
Russia: A Journey to the Heart of a Land and its People by Jonathan
Dimbleby
BBC Books, £25; 576pp Buy
the book
The Times Cheltenham Literature Festival: Jonathan Dimbleby presents a
portrait of modern Russia: October 16, 6.30pm
cheltenhamfestivals.com
The best comment here is that Putin's Russia is essentially a fascist state. I am happy that this notion found its way to a mainstream Western media after 9 years of putinism in Russia and Schroeder-like putinomania in the West.
Igor, Berlin and Moscow, ru
Perhaps so, but at least he went there!!His understanding of russia and russian culture is very diffrent from ours!I admire his oppinion about russia!IVery interesting report . Observation by Wester eye and oppinion,Its always interesting to know what others have to say about Russia. Keep this way
Alexander, Birmingham, England
You it is a pity to me :)
Evgeniy, Voronezh, RUSSIA
If you have weak brain, vodka is a mind hazard! Don't drink so much, Jonathan!
And still - you have forgotten a good Russian proverb. Don't climb in another's monestry with your charter.
Good luck, islanders!
Sergei, Moscow, Russia
Jonathan Dimbleby knows nothing about Russians.
Alexander, Berlin, Germany