Boris Kagarlitsky: A letter from prison on the situation of the Russian left

[Editor’s note: Writing from the Russian penal colony where he is currently confined, anti-war Marxist Boris Kagarlitsky sent the following letter to the October 8 online conference “Boris Kagarlitsky and the Challenges of the Left Today”, held in honour of him and his work. This letter was written for the panel dedicated to discussing the situation of the left in Russia.]

Translated by Dmitry Pozhidaev for LINKS International Journal of Socialist Renewal.

Is it worth discussing the position of the left in Russia as a separate problem? At first glance, there seems to be little reason: after all, the most pressing issues right now are related to political democratisation and ending the military conflict. In prisons and camps, we are alongside representatives of other democratic ideologies, facing the same problems, eating the same gruel, and also dreaming of freedom. And yet, it is necessary to speak about the unique role and tasks of the left. Both for the sake of political prospects and, paradoxically, for the current moment.

True, we have very few opportunities to influence the situation. But we possess a powerful resource that others lack: we understand the socio-political and structural reasons that have led to the current situation.

Let us be honest, the majority of Russian society — both at the top and bottom — would like to return to the blissful times of the 2010s, which ended with the COVID pandemic and the outbreak of the large-scale military conflict between Russia and Ukraine.1 Even from a political standpoint, a return to the (rather limited) level of freedom we had then would be a huge step forward today. Unfortunately, we cannot simply return to the past. You cannot put the toothpaste back in the tube.

And the changes that have taken place in Russian society are much more significant than is commonly understood. Even at the economic level, we are seeing completely new trends — an industrial revival (albeit in the spirit of “military Keynesianism”), a labour shortage that is changing the labour market, a weakening dependence on the West and simultaneously increasing dependence on China.

It inevitably brings to mind the events of World War I, when the forced measures of the Tsarist regime and the Provisional Government created the conditions for the radical policies of the Bolsheviks. Or World War II, when Britain’s wartime measures paved the way for social-democratic reforms. In this case, it does not matter how we feel about [Vladimir] Lenin or Clement Attlee; both responded not only to their ideologies but to the situation and objective societal needs. Equally important is that leftist ideology, in both cases, helped to recognise these needs and fulfil them (how successfully and substantively is another question).

Russia today needs not only democratisation but also to overcome the oligarchic and resource-based nature of its economy. It is precisely this type of economy that has created the structure of interests that led us to authoritarianism and military adventures. Democracy without social and economic transformations simply will not work. And if some new Thaw2 suddenly falls into our lap, it will not turn into a “Spring of Freedom” if we preserve the same political and economic institutions. There is no road back to the managed democracy of early Putin times. We must move forward.

Potentially — thanks to our ideological tradition, the critical work we have done and continue to do, and for many other reasons — the left has the capacity to respond to the emerging historical demand more than any other force, which is incapable of imagining solutions beyond the market, capitalism and bourgeois decency. But this is only a potential3 opportunity; in reality, are we ready? No, of course not. We are completely unprepared. And I will say more: we will never be ready in advance. That is not how history works. Emotional readiness is the most we can hope for and what we can work with.

Nevertheless, the need for change is not only objective. It is keenly felt by society, even if not articulated in specific demands. Believe me when I say, after months in various prisons with many different people, I have seen this with my own eyes. And here is the paradox: the desire for change coexists with fear of it. Just like in Viktor Tsoi’s famous song.4 Apparently, this mood in Russia is not new. Emotional readiness means we are not afraid. It is not enough to not fear repression. We must also not fear ourselves, nor be afraid to make independent decisions. We must not make them haphazardly, but based on our knowledge and principles.

People who recognise the emerging needs will spontaneously become our allies, even if they do not share our ideological formulations. I see this clearly in my interactions with other political prisoners. To attract people, we must not wave red flags or shout beautiful slogans, but speak clearly and practically, care about our credibility, and be where we need to be.

Years ago, someone compared the political stance of the left to a broken clock that shows the correct time twice a day. Unfortunately, there is a lot of truth in that joke. However, my old friend Pavel Kudyukin, repeating this phrase, added: but at those two times a day, that clock does show astronomically accurate time! The main thing is not to miss that moment.

• 1

  Translator's note: Nowhere in this essay does Kagarlitsky refer to the conflict in Ukraine as a “war”. This is not because he avoids acknowledging it as an unjust war of conquest on Russia’s part — he calls it as such in his latest book, The Long Retreat (Verso, 2024). Rather, the omission is due to the fact that all letters sent from prison are subject to censorship and must comply with the requirements set by prison censors in order to be sent out. 

• 2

  Translator's note: This refers to Khrushchev's Thaw (1956-1964), a period of political and cultural liberalisation in the Soviet Union under Nikita Khrushchev. It marked a relaxation of censorship, greater intellectual freedom, and a departure from Stalinist repression, fostering hope for reform and democratisation.

• 3

  All emphasises in original letter

• 4

  Translator’s note: “Peremen!” (“Changes!”) is a song by Viktor Tsoi and his band Kino. Released in 1986, it became an unofficial anthem of Perestroika, symbolising the desire for political and social reform during the late Soviet era. The song resonated with youth and movements calling for change in the Soviet Union.