Anna Ochkina: ‘Russians understand that the stability promised to them has disappeared’

[Editor’s note: The following is an edited transcript of the speech given by Anna Ochkina on the “Repression and the threat to intellectual freedom: Russia and beyond” panel at the “ Boris Kagarlitsky and the challenges of the left today” online conference, which was organised by the Boris Kagarlitsky International Solidarity Campaign on October 8. Ochkina is Russian sociologist, Deputy Director of the Institute for Global Research and Social Movements (IGSO) and deputy editor of the journal Levaya politika (Left Politics). Transcripts and video recordings of other speeches given at the conference can be found at the campaign website freeboris.info, from where the below is republished.]

Many repressive and dictatorial regimes carry out large-scale political or, at least, ideological mobilisations of the population. Citizens are forcibly involved in various propaganda and political actions, and are required to publicly approve of repressions and condemn their victims. 

This is not a democratic politicisation of the masses, it is a compulsion to participate in the actions of a repressive regime. Manipulation with the help of ideology, mutual responsibility and fear allows repressive regimes to keep citizens within strict limits of loyalty. 

This works especially well if the majority of the population shares the state’s ideology, at least in its pure form. Let us recall Josef Stalin’s Soviet Union. At work collective meetings, Soviet citizens were required to condemn recently arrested colleagues, as well as swear allegiance to the party and state. People who evaded participation in such meetings often became victims of repression themselves. 

Nevertheless, in the Stalin era, despite all its cruelty and repression, there were positive grounds for the consolidation of citizens and real factors of solidarity. The country was developing, people were united by participation in this development; there were real successes that supported enthusiasm. 

In addition to the official ideology, there were attractive ideas, as they were creative and humanistic. Ideas were not enough to make people come together against the repressive system. However, people who took seriously the dreams of a new just society devoted to communist creation and humanism, and could, at least, evaluate what was happening around them, realise the choice that reality put before them, and make it consciously. 

Repression was not able to destroy reflection and conscience. If most people chose silence and obedience, then they at least felt the burden and tragedy of this choice and convinced themselves that, in the end, it was in the name of communism, the country, or for the sake of the family. These ideas of communism survived the period of repression and were revived during the Khrushchev period, known in Russian history as the Thaw.

In modern Russia, neither the authorities nor the majority of society have a clear ideology, political ideals and principles. This is why a very peculiar Russian model of political repression has developed. Vladimir Putin and his inner circle hate everything mass: they do not tolerate any manifestations of social activity, any reminders of the existence and importance of solidarity and, therefore, suppress any public freedoms. 

They even avoid mass repressions. Today, employees of Russian companies do not shout slogans at meetings or curse politically unreliable colleagues. Repressions occur silently. Media that is loyal to the authorities report on them sparingly and prefer to ignore solidarity campaigns. The majority of society prefers not to notice repressions at all.

Paradoxically, the modern Russian regime fears even those who support it most passionately and loudly. Right-wing radical Igor Girkin (Strelkov) was convicted not for real crimes, but for his overly ardent and loud support of the so-called “special military operation” in Ukraine. Of course, he harshly criticised the military-political leadership of Russia, but he did so freely, since he ardently supported Putin’s leadership and dreamed only of even greater military victories.

Everyone knows about the hysterical and omnipresent Russian propaganda, which the opposition calls “zombifying the population”. But what is the goal of this propaganda? Do propagandists strive to inspire the country, motivate people to a common important cause, unite everyone in a patriotic impulse? Nothing of the sort. 

The main, and perhaps only goal of propaganda is to keep citizens within the confines of their private lives, to nip in the bud any thoughts of political and civic activity. The ideal picture for Russian authorities and their ideological servants is a Russian that is scared but proud of their imperial greatness (even if imaginary), who sits in front of the TV, agrees with all statements by authorities (even the most contradictory) and under no circumstances interfere in politics.

The regime does not need real mass support. In fact, the Kremlin fears this and prefers to simply imitate it. The famous mass rallies in honour of the so-called “Crimean Spring” or Putin’s latest election victory are not organised by enthusiasts and volunteers. Most of those present come either under duress or for a small reward. Russian authorities treat people rather unceremoniously, but they are careful in one thing: they are very afraid of pulling the average person out of their sweet political sleep.

The special military operation is not going according to plan at all. For example, Ukrainian troops are on Russian territory. The population is silent, only the parents of conscripts are trying at all costs to prevent their sons from entering the combat zone or to pull out those who have ended up there. “Save our conscripts” — these were the calls that became the first and strongest reaction of Russian society to the invasion of the Kursk region. 

At the same time, the Russian government does not announce mobilisation, the need for which radical patriots constantly scream. On the contrary, Putin personally and through his press secretary, Dmitry Peskov, have repeatedly assured the public that there will be no mobilisation as the Russian army has enough fighters.

But does the Russian army really not need reinforcements? The actions of the authorities suggest otherwise. Advertising for military service has been significantly increased and become especially catchy and inventive. It is present in many public places. The summer decrees of the president have increased payments to contract soldiers many times over. 

The Kremlin claims that these measure do not indicate a change in the situation at the front or the emergence of tasks for a military operation; rather these are simply new measures of social support for servicemen and their families. But this explanation looks dubious, given the current situation with servicemen mobilised in the fall of 2022. They have not yet been dismissed from service, despite the president’s promises and protests from relatives. 

Another measure to replenish the army occurred in June, when a law was signed on the release from criminal liability of persons who have committed minor and medium-gravity crimes if they sign a contract with the Russian army. The recruitment of prisoners continues today.

It seems that mobilisation is needed after all, but the authorities have not yet decided to take this step. Of course, if mobilisation becomes a matter of life or death for the Russian authorities, it will be carried out. But for now, it can drag it out. 

The Kremlin is dragging it out as it does not want to irritate the average person. The Kremlin does not have any hope for the patriotic enthusiasm and self-sacrifice of Russians; the authorities treat citizens like philistines, loyal only to their wallets and their families.

This is quite understandable: the current Russian government is itself a collective philistine, it was established as a result of elite collusion and has never had a real ideology. Of course, there is talk about imperial grandeur and traditional values, but all this is intended mainly for official speeches and for propagandists, so that they have something to shout about. 

Yes, Russians sometimes like to talk about the former greatness of the Soviet Union, about the insolent West and about ungrateful neighbours — the former Soviet republics. But there are no stable and mass movements around these ideas. Such ideas do not unite people or influence their motivation and actions.

The current Russian government does not inspire anyone, it has no supporters. It has only mercenaries and a submissive population due to indifference. Citizens tolerate the government because it promised stability. Such was the social contract: stability in exchange for loyalty. The Kremlin is trying to pretend that this contract is still in force, but it has long been violated. 

In October, a draft budget was submitted to the State Duma of the Russian Federation, in which a third of expenditures was for military expenses. This looks like a budget for a full-scale war, for which neither the government nor society is ready.

The Kremlin leaves hysterical calls for sacrifices in the name of the Motherland to propagandists, preferring not to stir up the public once again. The only real ideological message that the government sends to Russians is: be apolitical, limit yourself to your private life, take care of your well-being, there are people to take care of the state. 

This message comes with handouts: a little for pensioners, a little for families with children, huge injections into the military industry, where salaries are growing significantly. This is a carrot for those who understand the rules of the game correctly.

The Russian government instinctively understands that ideas, convictions and sincere enthusiasm make a person free, confident and independent, and for the Russian government this means something terrible — such a person becomes uncontrollable, and therefore dangerous.

By the way, I would like to note that one should not overestimate the passivity of Russians; they are quite capable of speaking out in defence of their private, local rights. Russian society lacks solidarity to protect larger-scale things, such as democracy, freedom of speech, peace, and humane social policy. The Russian government knows this well and can sometimes make concessions to environmentalists or workers of bankrupt enterprises trying to get back their delayed wages. 

But the Russian government does not forgive the slightest politicisation of protest, for which it severely punishes. The Kremlin understands that it has irrevocably violated the promise of stability, and is nervous, seeing a threat behind any more or less independent public political action or statement.

Public freethinking is punished, selectively, but constantly. For intellectuals, the authorities have the status of foreign agent, which is used both as a punishment for the obstinate and as a warning: if you do not like the authorities, leave the country. For those who do not understand the warning and continue to show independence and political activity, more serious repressions are provided, although here too the authorities avoid the mass character they hate.

I know that I offend my colleagues and comrades by declaring the absence of mass repressions in Russia. Let me explain: this is not a statement about the humaneness of the Putin regime, not at all. It is just that in its hatred of mass movements, the Kremlin goes so far that it prefers to cultivate political passivity, just so as not to unite citizens, even through fear and hatred. Moreover, Putin and his inner circle do not want any state structures, in this case the FSB and the police, to become so strong that they become more or less separate from the famous Russian “vertical of power.”

Society cannot fall into a political coma, and the state understands this perfectly well. I repeat: the Kremlin constantly remembers that it has already violated the so-called social contract with citizens about the exchange of obedience and passivity for stability, although it tries to maintain its illusion. Therefore, the authorities pre-emptively persecute and discredit people who have influence on a more or less wide audience. The authorities consider people whose audience and circle of like-minded people are diverse, differentiated by social status and political views, to be especially dangerous. 

A striking example is Boris Kagarlitsky. He had influence on a wide variety of audiences: students, regional activists and municipal, regional and even federal deputies who retained some opposition. His arrest was supposed to weaken this influence and send a warning signal to like-minded people, comrades, students and colleagues.

I see the following logic: opposition-minded people, influential in various circles of Russian society, are persecuted with varying degrees of persistence and severity. The authorities expect that persecution of oppositionists will scare away their audience and supporters, and do not seek, at least for now, to cut off all contacts of arrested oppositionists with society. 

Political prisoners correspond with followers and comrades, and send scientific and journalistic texts from prison. The authorities, it seems, are counting on the magical resource of Russians’ passivity and rely on their fear of absurdly harsh sentences for known opponents of the Kremlin. So, I will describe the general logic of Russian repressions.

Firstly, the Kremlin persecutes people with more or less noticeable influence on a diverse audience to reduce their influence, intimidate their audience and prevent it from growing. Various methods are used to discredit influential oppositionists, the most common being assigning the status of a foreign agent or adding them to the list of terrorists and extremists. 

By the way, these statuses are handed out by the Ministry of Justice and the Federal Financial Monitoring Service without trial, investigation and the opportunity for citizens to defend themselves. Citizens declared foreign agents are deprived of the right to teach, hold civil service positions, and run for elective office.

Secondly, authorities are trying to suppress any social self-organisation. Propaganda is trying its best to present the opposition as a phenomenon alien to Russian society, which is huddled in the intellectual circles of Moscow and St Petersburg and has now moved abroad. This does not correspond to reality, which is confirmed by the actions of the authorities themselves. 

Political independence and free civil action in the regions are severely punished. Regional leaders and security officials must prove their loyalty to the authorities and their intransigence in the fight against any “sedition”. I have heard several times from employees of regional administrations the phrase: “Each region must have its own extremists, otherwise the centre will think that we are doing a bad job.” 

That is how the Tyumen case and the case of the Ufa Marxists appeared, in which regional activists are cruelly persecuted, for example, the former coordinator of the Bashkir medical trade union Anton Orlov, the Yakut musician Aikhal Ammosov, the Nizhny Novgorod activist Yuri Chilikin and others.

Thirdly, the Kremlin is very afraid of the protest moods of youth. Darya Kozyreva (nineteen years old), Nikita Uvarov and Nikita Turlaev (15 and 19 years old), Lyubov Lizunova and Alexander Snezhkov (17 and 20 years old) and many other young activists have become victims of the Russian elite’s fear of a possible youth rebellion.

Fourthly, the civil and political activity of professional communities is suppressed: lawyers, doctors, teachers, journalists, theatre workers and so on. The tactics of targeted persecution also prevail here. The greatest pressure is exerted on the most active and prominent representatives of these communities. 

It is enough to recall the case of director Evgenia Berkovich and playwright Svetlana Petriychuk, who were sentenced to six years in prison for a play about the recruitment of Russian girls to ISIS. Berkovich and Petriychuk were accused of justifying terrorism, although the play has a completely clear anti-terrorist focus. 

Alexei Navalny’s lawyers were subjected to criminal prosecution. Now law enforcement agencies are exerting strong pressure on doctors who signed the demand to investigate the circumstances of Navalny’s death. This, by the way, is a manifestation of the fifth feature of Russian political repressions: any hint of a connection with Navalny and his Anti-Corruption Foundation becomes punishable for any community or individual.

Political repression in Russia is aimed at destroying not just oppositional thinking, but free thinking as such. Even a sleeping and submissive society keeps the government on edge. The regime feels unsure and strives to make its citizens fear it more than it fears them. This fear is not in vain, no resource is infinite, including the resource of apoliticality. 

Russians understand that the stability promised to them has already disappeared. Military actions are ongoing, people are dying, security is becoming an illusion, and life is becoming more expensive. All this fills the cup of patience of Russians. Sooner or later this cup will overflow.

I would like to quote Kagarlitsky: “When you analyse the current political situation and make predictions, do not remove yourself from the process.” Yes, political activity in Russia is difficult and dangerous now. But we can still help political prisoners, maintain contacts with comrades abroad, engage in political analysis and education. 

We know that the time of change is approaching, and we are ready to participate in it and influence it. We will not remove ourselves from the process.