This article discusses the question of why a Western-style democracy has not been formed in Russia. The prerequisite for the formation of a democracy as a political regime is the domination of small and medium-sized private property and a middle class. Since the middle class has been small in Russia throughout most of its history for a number of objective reasons, the country has hardly known full-fledged democracy, and the current political system only imitates it. Russia’s attempts to enter the trajectory of democratic development—both in the early twentieth century, and since the early 1990s–have failed, and the trend of abandoning the basic principles of democracy has prevailed over the past two decades. The blame for this lies not only on the current Russian leadership but to no lesser extent on the political leadership of the West, which for the sake of short-term self-serving interests or political ambitions has contributed much to the formation of the current Russian regime.
The article examines the population exchange between Poland and the Soviet Union in 1944–1947, its role in the shaping of modern Ukraine, and its place in the evolution of the Soviet nationality policy. It investigates the factors involved in the decision-making of individuals and state officials and then assesses how people on the ground made sense of the Soviet population politics. While the earlier scholarship saw the transfer as punitive national deportation, the article argues that it was neither punitive nor purely national nor was it a deportation. The article shows that the party-state was ambivalent about the Polish minority and was not committed to total national homogenization of Western Ukraine. Instead, the people themselves were often eager to leave the USSR because of the poor living conditions, fear of Sovietization, and ethnic conflict. Paradoxically, one of the largest Soviet nation-building projects was not the product of coherent nationality policy.
Unintelligible sequences of letters or words in today’s Russian culture are omnipresent: in slogans, such as “Hair is the best remedy,” “Stop grandma’s merciless feeding!”; on social media, for example #ifnotputinthencat and “LSDUZ and IFIAU9”; in satirical songs and poems; in films by Zvyagintsev, novels by Sorokin, Tolstaya, and Pelevin, etc. The appeal of gibberish and its repression by the Soviet and post-Soviet officialdom is rooted in the belief that art and word have the power to influence people and events. Avant-garde artists who pioneered this belief in the transformative power of art cheered the Bolshevik’s promise to create a new society, but were soon crushed by the Soviet state as dangerous saboteurs. Today, gibberish is again a strategy of aesthetic defiance. Erudite and inventive, gibberish eludes the grasp of state censorship. It builds communities of resistance, and spoils the authoritative discourse like a fly in the soup.
The outbreak of the Great Patriotic War led to an unprecedented evacuation of the Soviet population to the East as well as a significant growth of social conflicts. Consequently, open manifestations of anti-Semitism increased greatly, which were often connected with defeatism and anti-Soviet moods. This article analyzes the reasons for this phenomenon and is based on the materials of judicial investigative cases of the Chelyabinsk Regional Court. This article focuses on the state struggle against anti-Semitism, which was considered by the judicial authorities as quasi-anti-Soviet activity and aid to the enemy. This perception was determined by the catastrophic situation of the Red Army, Nazi propaganda against “Judeo-Bolshevism,” and the beginning of the Holocaust in the occupied territories. In these conditions of socio-political instability, mass anti-Semitism required severe punishments. This article’s conclusions allow a revision of the policy of the Soviet state toward the “Jewish issue” during the Second World War.
This article deals with the fate of Soviet Jewry during the period between Stalin’s death and the outbreak of the Sinai War (1956). It focuses on the attitudes of Israeli government circles, and their actions oriented towards opening Soviet immigration to Israel (Aliyah) gates. The goal of Aliyah stood high on the agenda of Israeli decision makers. Nevertheless, until the end of 1955, its treatment was quite limited. We describe the chain of events that transformed this situation. The article is based largely on documents from Israeli and Soviet archives, including many that have not yet been published. We also use Nativ organization documents, which are shown here for the first time.