Gorbachev was hated by most older Russians because the
Soviet Union, the country they were born into, broke apart on his watch. His
current successor, Vladimir Putin, is now waging a war to put it back together,
but Gorbachev, Putin and most other Russians have all made the same category
error. They thought the Soviet Union was a country.
It wasn’t. It was an empire, fundamentally no different from the half-dozen
other European empires that carved most of the world up between them in the
preceding few centuries – or indeed, from the hundreds of other empires that
had preceded them in the 5,000 years of ‘mass’ civilisations.
Almost all of these empires had a ruling ethnic or linguistic group at the
centre, and a variety of subject peoples around the periphery. Their size was
historically limited by very slow long-distance communications, but the advent
of ocean-going ships allowed them to go global by the 17th century. And they
were all ruled, in the final analysis, by force.
The British, the French and Dutch empires never confused their empires with
their own countries, because their colonies were separated from the homelands
by thousands of kilometres of ocean. It was trickier with the Russian, Turkish
and Austro-Hungarian empires, where all their possessions were connected by
land, but the latter two were gone by 1918.
That left the Russian empire, which fell into the hands of Bolshevik
revolutionaries and was renamed the Soviet Union. But its borders didn’t change
except in the far west, where Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and Poland
gained their independence.
That’s where the popular confusion in Russia comes from. Because the Communists
claimed to be ‘anti-imperialist’, and even abstained from using Russian
nationalist tropes until Stalin’s time, it was easy for Russians to think the
Soviet Union was all the same ‘homeland’. But the subject peoples noticed.
When Gorbachev largely abandoned the threat of force as a means of keeping the
empire together, the non-Russian nationalities naturally took that as a signal
that they could leave. And their departure really wasn’t “the greatest
geopolitical disaster of the 20th century” (as Putin claims); it was the final
act in the dismantling of the European empires.
Of course the subject peoples left. Some of the colonial populations were
radically different from the Russians, like the Muslim ‘republics’ of Central
Asia. Some seemed quite similar to outsiders – the Ukrainians and the Russians,
for example – but their real historical grievances were as deep and
irreconcilable as those between the Irish and the English.
Siberia and the Far East stayed in Russia, because the conquered populations
there had been indigenous people living in small groups. They were greatly
outnumbered by Russian settlers as early as the 18th century, and their future
at best is like the ‘First Nations’ of Canada, the United States, Australia and
New Zealand.
That’s how the last European empire was decolonised thirty years ago, and
trying to piece it back together now is as foolish and futile as a British
attempt to reconquer Ireland would be. Yes, Russians and Ukrainians have a lot
of shared history. Yes, it’s hard for people who don’t know them well to tell
them apart. But no, they will not live happily together.
Is this the ‘narcissism of small differences’ that Sigmund Freud talked about?
Yes, of course it is. But some sort of shared identity is needed if we are to
live together peacefully and productively in the large numbers that have become
standard since the rise of the mass civilisations, and constructing such common
identities is hard work.
So two languages, Russian and Ukranian, that are really no further apart than
Glaswegian English and Jamaican English, are erected into a sharp
dividing line between different ‘nations’ by Ukrainian nationalists. But
they don’t talk about religion, because Ukrainians are too divided along that
axis.
History, fake or true, helps too. Russians share a story about an alleged
genocide of Russian-speakers in Eastern Ukraine in the present; many Ukrainians
believe that the famine of the early 1930s (the ‘holomodor’) was deliberately
caused by their Russian rulers.
There only so many people whom you can hope to bring into the same identity,
which is why there are 52 countries in Africa, and seven countries where
Yugoslavia used to be. It’s just part of the decolonisation process, but the
Russians have not yet grasped that this is what they are going through.
Gwynne Dyer is an independent journalist whose articles are published in 45 countries.