A second factor that played a role in Russia’s reemerging nationalism and nostalgia
for the lost empire is the deliberate use of chauvinist and nationalist propaganda by the leadership. Putin was not only the
providential man, welcomed as the leader who would “restore order” in the second cycle
of Russia’s anti-communist revolution, he was also a lucky man, because of the huge
rise in export prices of oil and gas that coincided with his first two presidencies.
It led the Russian population to ascribe its newfound wealth and prosperity not to
blind market forces, but to their active president, who, while not deserving their
praise, was quite eager to accept it. His popularity helped him spread the nationalist
message. Stalin was rehabilitated as the vozhd (leader), the genial brain behind the victory in the Great Patriotic War. His massacres,
purges, executions, and genocides were reduced to historical details, necessary to
modernize a backward country, or—even better—they were forgotten and banned from public
debate. The archives of the KGB, which had been temporarily opened, were closed again.
The great autocratic and imperialist tsars, especially Peter the Great, Catherine
the Great, Nicholas I, and Alexander III, were rehabilitated and reestablished in
their full glory. In September 2000 tsar Nicholas II was canonized and became an official
Orthodox saint. This official revival of old imperial pomp and glory coincided with
an increasingly aggressive behavior vis-à-vis the former Soviet republics.
The deliberate nationalist propaganda employed by the new power elite of siloviki who—like the nomenklatura in old Soviet days—once again ruled both the state and the economy, served another
goal: to create foreign and internal enemies in the good, old Stalinist tradition. The regime needed vragi naroda (enemies of the people) to absorb the aggression that was building up in a society
where there exists no independent judiciary, where democratic freedoms have become
a farce, political parties are created by the Kremlin, elections are stolen, the police
is not considered as a security force but as a threat by the population, and journalists
and human rights activists are regularly murdered. Nationalism is a well-known Ventil—a safety valve—for oppressed populations. This policy of the Russian power elite to deliberately foster nationalism and to propagate fear has been analyzed by the Russian sociologist
Lilia Shevtsova, who wrote that “the regime is deliberately trying to keep the minds
of the public in a schizophrenic state, obstructing the formation of a civic culture
and legal mentality. If the demand for a ‘special path’ and an ‘iron hand’ strengthens
in Russia, it will not be because of the inability of Russians to live in a democratic
and free society, but because they have been deliberately disoriented and trapped
by fears, phobias, and insecurity intentionally provoked by the ruling elite.”[27] By propagating nationalism and stirring up xenophobia—not only against foreigners,
but also against Russia’s Muslim minorities, who are often indiscriminately depicted
as “terrorists,” the leadership is trying to unite the people under what Hayek has
called a negative program.
It seems to be almost a law of human nature, that it is easier for people to agree
on a negative programme, on the hatred of an enemy, on the envy of those better off,
than on any positive task. The contrast between the “we” and the “they,” the common
fight against those outside the group, seems to be an essential ingredient in any
creed which will solidly knit together a group for common action. It is consequently
always employed by those who seek, not merely support of a policy, but the unreserved
allegiance of huge masses. From their point of view it has the great advantage of
leaving them greater freedom of action than almost any positive programme.[28]
