A couple of weeks ago, after attending a showing of the Russian TV talk show Vremia pokazhet, British journalist Angus Roxburgh complained that what he saw shocked even as hardened and cynical a Russia-watcher as him. ‘Xenophobia, fear, and intimidation’ were what he witnessed, he said.
I confess to be an occasional Vremia pokazhet watcher. It’s hard to understand what people are saying half the time, as the show tends to descend into a shouting match. But that’s kind of the point. There’s always a vigorous debate. It’s not just somebody spouting the official line, although it has to be said that the official line tends to win out when the dust settles. But let’s engage in a little bit of whataboutism. Would Mr Roxburgh be equally shocked if he spent some time watching American TV? Would he come across ‘xenophobia, fear, and intimidation’ there?
Let’s take a look.
A couple of days ago, CNN interviewed Congressman Mike Quigley. This is what Quigley had to say:
When you meet with any Russians, you’re meeting with Russian intelligence and therefore President Putin.
I’ve just finished reading Lev Gumilev’s Ethnogenesis and the Biosphere (which, for those of you who don’t know, is an influential work in neo-Eurasianist thought). It certainly isn’t light reading, and is more than a little odd. The idea that ethnic groups (ethnoi) are a product of an upsurge of people who have a mutation giving them a greater capacity to convert energy into work (passionarnost’) is weird enough. The idea that this energy comes from the animate matter of the ‘biosphere’ and also from some sort of mysterious and undefined ‘cosmic radiation’ is downright kooky. At least old Lev was smart enough to realize that the ‘noosphere’ [derived from the Greek word ‘nous’, meaning mind] was a load of nonsense, but otherwise I can’t say that he convinced me of his theories. I sympathize with those who think that they’re pseudo-scientific gobbledegook. Yet, looking at the United States, I can’t help wondering if there isn’t something to the theories after all.
An ethnos, Gumilev said, is not a social-economic phenomenon as described in Marxist theory. Nor is it a racial, or a cultural, or a territorial phenomenon. Nor is it, as Benedict Anderson has said of nationality, an ‘imagined community’. Ethnoi are very real, according to Gumilev, and what distinguishes one from another is that they all have different ‘behavioural stereotypes.’ Everyone except a newborn baby has an ethnos, wrote Gumilev, because everybody behaves in some way. How he or she behaves determines what ethnos he or she belongs to.
According to Gumilev, behavioural stereotypes are a product of adaptation to the physical landscape. Although he never said this, one could regard big cities as a type of landscape. The modern city has required adaptation which in turn has created new behavioural stereotypes. In other words, there has been a process of ethnogenesis which has led to the emergence of a new ethnos in the cities alongside the existing one in the rest of the country.
This model actually fits the United States, which in Gumilevian terms contains not one ethnos but two. Ethnos 1 lives in the big cities, and behaves one way; ethnos 2 lives in the smaller towns and the countryside, and behaves another way. If two ethnoi have sufficient ‘complementarity’ (another Gumilevian term) they can form a ‘superethnos’. To do so, they must share what Gumilev called a ‘dominant’ – that is some ideal which can be given verbal expression. The two American ethnoi, however, appear to increasingly lack either complementarity or a dominant. Consequently, the American superethnos is disintegrating.
In Gumilev’s theory, the rise and decline of ethnoi is not a constant; the graph has numerous peaks and troughs. Perhaps an unexpected shower of cosmic radiation will generate a great ‘passionary’ who will revitalize the American superethnos. Or perhaps the two American ethnoi will each throw up their own passionaries who will accelerate the process by which the two Americas become distinguished from one another. Or then again, the whole thing might just be a load of pseudo-scientific hogwash after all.
This week’s book examines the fate of Americans who went to work in the Soviet Union in the 1930s to help industrialize the country, and who in many cases ended up in the Gulag – a tragic story of betrayal and misplaced idealism.
When reading an intelligence report, it is advisable to distinguish between those parts of the report which are raw information and those which are comments. Intelligence analysts are trained to make this distinction clear. One method is to place raw information in a column on one side of the page and commentary in a separate column on the other side. Another way is to put the word ‘COMMENT’ before any commentary, and to put ‘END OF COMMENT’ at the end. A reader can then evaluate whether a comment seems justified in light of the supporting facts.
With this in mind, let us now turn to the unclassified report released to the public yesterday by the U.S. Office of the Director of National Intelligence, entitled ‘Assessing Russian Activities and Intentions in Recent US Elections.’
The report doesn’t do a very good job of separating fact and comment. But it does regularly use the phrase ‘We assess.’ Readers can presumably take anything preceded by this phrase as being equivalent to a comment. So let us look at the report’s assessments, and see what facts are used to justify them. Among the quotations which follow, those which I consider to state facts, rather than opinions, are highlighted in bold.
Which is more important – peace or justice? According to the standard interpretation of Just War Theory, there is a ‘presumption against war’; the harm war does is so great that anybody wishing to wage it has to prove their case beyond all reasonable doubt, and peace – defined as ‘an absence of war’ – is a supreme value. Some philosophers, however, claim that there is no presumption against war. Rather there is a ‘presumption against injustice’. In this view, an absence of war (‘negative peace’) is not true peace at all. In order to produce a ‘positive peace’, in which justice flourishes, it is permissible to fight.
An interesting new survey reveals that the inhabitants of different countries have very different attitudes towards this issue. According to the Halifax/IPSOS Global Snapshot, produced for the 2015 Halifax International Security Forum, ‘over 70% of Americans and Chinese – more than any other country – believe that under certain conditions, war is necessary to achieve justice … [but] only 38% of Russians agree with that statement.’ I have been unable to copy the chart used in the Global Snapshot Report, but have entered the data into an Excel spreadsheet to produce a version which shows the main results, as follows:
A number of things come out of this. First, the Anglosphere (the USA, UK, Australia, Canada, and to some extent India) is remarkably belligerent. Second, Hispanic countries (Mexico, Spain, Brazil, and Argentina) seem remarkably peace-loving. Third, Russia is a lot less inclined to wage war for some interpretation of ‘justice’ than most Western states. How do we explain these differences?
Power may have something to do with it. The United States, China, and Saudi Arabia are, probably not coincidentally, the first, second, and third largest spenders on defence in the world, while the UK is fifth. It would appear that having a lot of weapons may create, or spring from, an inclination to use them. But that wouldn’t explain why Russia and Japan (4th largest and 7th largest spenders respectively) are so much less inclined to use force than the USA and China. There appear to be some missing variables.
Culture and history are obvious candidates to fill the gap. As I have mentioned in previous posts, ‘just war’ isn’t part of the Russian philosophical tradition. War is seen as a tragic necessity, fought for reasons of security and not as a means of pursuing ‘justice’. By contrast, the modern Western philosophy of universal human rights means that it is relatively easy for Western Europeans and North Americans to regard war as something which can bring justice to the world. The religious zeal of the Saudis may perhaps give them a somewhat similar attitude. Overall, I speculate that countries which prefer peace to justice either haven’t had much experience with war (Argentina, Brazil, and Mexico), and so haven’t got into the bad habit of thinking that it might be a good idea, or have had really bad experiences with war (Japan, Spain, Germany, and Russia), and so have learnt the hard way that war doesn’t bring justice and is best avoided.
What obviously isn’t true is the much beloved neoconservative idea that democracies are peace-loving. Some are, but some aren’t. And Russians, it appears, value peace more highly than Americans.