September 6, 2022

Sep 06, 2022

The main news of the past three weeks

1. Mikhail Gorbachev, the first and last president of the Soviet Union has passed away. Coming to power in 1985, he began a process of reform that became more profound and radical, leading to the eventual collapse of the Soviet system. As a result, the countries of Eastern Europe and the former Soviet republics could make their own choices: Some followed the path of democracy and entry into the modern global world, while others began to build eastern despotisms. For the West, Gorbachev was the man who delivered the world from the fear of nuclear war.

2. Military action in Ukraine is increasingly evident as “trench warfare.” Although the Russian army continues to make slow progress in the Donetsk region, the Ukrainian military has been able to organize a local offensive toward Kherson. Both sides seek to minimize their losses, so the emphasis is on the use of missile and artillery strikes.

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3. The Russian authorities demonstrate growing optimism about the state of the economy: The government and the Central Bank are lowering their estimates of GDP decline this year while stretching the decline over time—almost no one expects Russia’s economy to start recovering in 2023. The central optimism stems from the fact that Western sanctions, while undermining the economy’s long-term potential, have had minimal impact on business activity this year. The sanctions touched several export sectors (fertilizers, coal, steel, and wood products) without causing any noticeable damage to the core of the Russian economy, oil production and refining. At the same time, Russian companies are gradually finding ways to restore the disrupted logistics and resume production. The most significant breakthrough in August was the re-launch of AvtoVAZ, Russia’s biggest car manufacturer, which started to receive spare parts from Renault and its partners.

4. The Kremlin continues escalating political pressure inside the country.

On August 15, Alexei Navalny was placed in the punishment cell (PC) for three days for “regularly unbuttoning his top button” while on the job. On August 24, he was once again placed in a punishment cell for five days, this time “for not having his hands behind his back for three seconds.” On August 30, the politician was sent to the punishment cell for the third time, where he will spend seven days for “misrepresenting himself.” On his Instagram, Navalny wrote: “You’ll laugh, but I’m back in the PC. They let me out Sunday night, and on Monday afternoon, they locked me up again, and they made no secret that I won’t be getting out of this hole again. But at least I finally know what I am in jail for! In connection with that, a short statement. The fact is that I am ‘too politically active for a prisoner.’ The prisoners’ union I formed is very irritating: ‘They didn’t put me in jail to make unions here.’”
Alexei Navalny during the court trial (September 5, 2022)
On August 25, one of the most prominent independent politicians, former Yekaterinburg mayor and former State Duma deputy Yevgeny Roizman, became a defendant in a criminal case for “public statements aimed at discrediting the use of the Russian Armed Forces in Ukraine.” The court restricted Roizman for the duration of the investigation, forbidding him from using the internet and participating in public events.
On August 29, Russian social activist and former State Duma deputy Leonid Gozman was arrested for 15 days for his posts on social networks in which prosecutors saw “an identification of the role of the USSR and Nazi Germany in World War II.” (A law was enacted in April 2022.) In July, criminal proceedings were launched against Gozman for failing to provide timely notification of his second citizenship.
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On August 30, scientist Andrei Zayakin was detained and arrested in Moscow and accused of “financing terrorism”—Zayakin transferred 1,000 rubles ($15) to FBK, Alexei Navalny’s organization, after FBK was declared a terrorist organization by the prosecutor’s office. Andrei Zayakin gained public notoriety by proposing new methods for investigating corruption in Russia based on automated data analysis from foreign property registries and by developing methods for detecting plagiarism in dissertations written by Russian officials.
On September 5, a court in Moscow revoked Novaya Gazeta’s license at the Russian media-censor Roskomnadzor’s request and revoked the registration of Novaya Gazeta magazine. The censor claimed that Novaya Gazeta received registration in 2002 and submitted all the necessary documents. Still, in 2006, the newspaper changed several founders[1], after which, according to the censor, the newspaper should have submitted papers to get a renewed license. Why it took the censor 16 years to realize this violation, the court did not elaborate. Novaya Gazeta was founded in February 1993; the first personal computers for journalists were purchased by Mikhail Gorbachev, using part of the Nobel Peace Prize he received. Since February 1995, Novaya Gazeta has been headed by Dmitriy Muratov, awarded the Nobel Peace Prize last October for this work.
On September 5, journalist Ivan Safronov was sentenced to 22 years on charges of high treason; the basis for the conviction was material produced by the journalist using information published in the open press.
In September, Dmitry Krymov, one of Russia’s most famous, titled, and beloved directors, disappeared from the stages of four Moscow theaters. In some venues, the plays have vanished from the theater calendar, and no tickets are available for sale, even though they remain in the theater’s repertoire. The reason, meanwhile, is more likely political. After leaving for production in the United States in late February, Dmitri Krymov spoke out against Russia’s “special operation” in Ukraine and decided not to return to Moscow. In addition to Dmitry Krymov, the young director Alexander Molochnikov, who had earlier become the object of special attention from a group of State Duma deputies who created an entire group to identify “dissenting” cultural figures, was also banned. First, the Bolshoi Theatre terminated the director’s contract, and then the Theatre on Malaya Bronnaya removed two of Molochnikov’s works from its repertoire.

War Or Peace? It’s not all so clear-cut

A month and a half ago, in mid-July, the media published the results of a “closed” VCIOM poll on whether Russia should continue military operations or go for peace talks. At that time, if the media were to be believed, the share of those in favor of continuing the war was almost twice as high as those in favor of ending it (57%/30%). At the end of August, the Levada-Center conducted a similar poll, which showed that the forces in favor of the two positions were almost equal (48%/44%). Because different organizations conducted the polls, and their assessments of public opinion on politically sensitive issues often differ significantly, we should hardly hurry to conclude that Russia’s “party of peace” has sharply strengthened its positions in a month and a half. At the very least, we should wait for the results of the next Levada-Center poll.

At the same time, the data from the Levada-Center allow us to look in detail at the positions of different segments of Russian society on the vital issue of today and, I dare say, of Russia’s future. Based on these cross-sections, I have a very contradictory portrait of the “party of war” and the “party of peace.[2] Some of the dividing lines could easily be explained (e.g., the more dovish position of women) or previously have been identified (e.g., the more significant share of opponents of military action among Russians with a low standard of living or among young people who have no desire to give their lives for the insane ideas of the Russian dictator). It is also apparent that there are significantly more supporters of the “war party” among those Russians for whom traditional media (TV, radio, newspapers) are their primary sources of information, who trust traditional media, and who do not regularly use the internet or who in principle do not use it.

High proportions of pro-peace supporters among students (substantial overlap with the 18-24 age group) and among homemakers, who are even more peace-loving than women in general, are well explained.

Other fault lines were entirely unexpected for me, such as the militant stance of Moscow residents. In contrast, in other groups of localities, the positions of supporters of the two “parties” were approximately equal. Unexpectedly for me, the answers to the question “War or Peace?” were almost identical for Russians with different levels of education, except for a tiny group of respondents with education “below average” (slightly less than 4% of the sample), for whom peaceful attitudes prevail.

Overall, the composition of Russia’s “war party” supporters looks much more monolithic and consolidated. Its core comprises older people who prefer traditional media, making it easier for the Kremlin to spread its narrative and gain support. In contrast, the “party of peace” looks more disparate and fragmented. If I were asked to develop an electoral program for a “peace party” whose supporters are described by such characteristics, it would cause me serious difficulties.

At the same time, it can be assumed that the continuation of military actions will gradually erode the strength of the “war party” and strengthen the “peace party” position. Traditionally, an essential and trusted source of information for Russians are friends, relatives, and neighbors—to which, in the modern world, one can add social networks. As can be seen from survey results, this category of Russians is more pigeonholed than the average Russian. In this regard, one can predict that as the number of Russian military deaths and injuries increases, public sentiment in Russia will shift toward the “peace party.”

We saw how this happens during the second Chechen war, at the beginning of which enthusiasm and support for military action were much higher than today. But despite the Russian army’s apparent military successes, and although the number of Russian military deaths was significantly lower than during the aggression against Ukraine,[3] the war was rapidly losing popularity, forcing the Kremlin to swap the stick for the carrot and negotiate with the Kadyrov clan.

The principal difference with the Chechen war today is that the Kremlin has realized that human life has a price and has begun to pay from the budget 12 million rubles ($200,000), equal to 17 annual salaries,[4] to the families of each soldier killed in that war. That certainly dampens anti-war sentiment in the families of many of the dead, but it is unlikely that the money a neighbor received can free someone from the fear of losing their husband, son, or brother who has been or may be sent to fight.

Behind the Iron Curtain

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