To judge from opinion surveys, newspaper reports and simply from conversations on the street, Russian society is moving leftward. To judge from the statements of politicians and the relationship of forces within the elite, however, the country is moving decisively to the right.
Disillusionment with the results of
privatisation is almost universal. More than two-thirds of citizens invariably
support the proposal to return oil and gas fields – and the largest industrial
corporations along with them – to state ownership. In everyday usage, the
words “free market” have the force almost of an obscenity. Even among the
intelligentsia and small business operators, people who only recently were
strong supporters of neo-liberal ideology, moods have changed. More and more
Russians are inclined to describe themselves not just as social democrats, but
as socialists. Courses on Marxism are returning to the universities, in response
to demand from the students themselves.
At the same time, the government is
promising the forced-draft privatisation of the few assets that remain in its
hands. It is also abolishing progressive taxation, forcing anti-trade union
legislation through the Duma, and threatening to carry out a reform of municipal
services that would not only compel the already impoverished members of the
population to pay the full cost of these provisions, but in effect, to invest
money in this sector from their own pockets. If enacted, these measures will
spell ruin for the new middle class that arose during the 1990s, and this,
naturally, will cause them to become radicalised. It is this, along with the
winds of “anti-globalist” protest blowing in from the West, that explains
the changed state of affairs in society. Miners demonstrate, the trade unions of
dockers and aviation workers organise successful strikes, and telephone
subscribers wage a successful campaign against the introduction of timed calls,
forcing the corporations to make concessions. All this is combined with a
growing alarm for the future of civil liberties under the administration of
Vladimir Putin, and an increasingly powerful discontent at the continuation of
the Chechnya war.
Meanwhile, the shift by the
regime to the right is meeting scarcely any resistance on the political level.
Formally speaking, the opposition in Russia is represented by two organisations
– the Communist Party of the Russian Federation, and the “Yabloko” party.
The trouble is that the opposition long ago became part of the establishment,
and is no less corrupt than the government. While criticising the
“authoritarian tendencies” of the regime, Yabloko gives total support to the
Kremlin’s social policy, despite the obvious fact that it is this social and
economic course that obliges the Kremlin to be authoritarian. Under the
conditions of the oligarchic economy, when the authorities carry out reforms
that serve the interests of a tiny minority, and which are condemned by
two-thirds of the population, there is no reason to hope for democracy.
The ruling layers are trying to
compensate for their unpopular social program by using nationalist rhetoric and
by whipping up a racist psychosis closely linked to the war in Chechnya. The
“opposition liberals” have wound up in a political trap. From time to time
they criticise the consequences, while ignoring (or even applauding) the cause.
The only thing that is now
left-wing about the official Communist party is its name. For socialism, the
party leaders have substituted the slogan of “great-power patriotism”, and
the press organs they control are full of racist and anti-semitic attacks. Under
the leadership of Gennady Zyuganov, the Communist Party of the Russian
Federation not only gives fervent support to the genocide in Chechnya, but
regularly helps the government to implement its economic policies. It is no
accident that representatives of the KPRF were in the first ranks of those who
sought the ruinous increase in telephone charges, justifying this on the basis
of the need to accumulate funds in national industries. In essence, the actions
of the leaders of Russia’s official communist movement would be better suited
to members of a fascist party.
The leaders of the Federation
of Independent Trade Unions of Russia (FNPR) – the country’s largest trade
union federation, surviving from Soviet times – have shown themselves to be
not much better. When the government presented its draft for a new labour code
which abolished long-established benefits for workers, allowed employers
complete freedom to carry out sackings and compile blacklists, legalised child
labour and provided for the phasing-in of a twelve-hour workday, the FNPR
bitterly criticised the document. For several months the leaders of the trade
union federation declared their disagreement with the government. Then, they
joined with the government in setting up a conciliation commission which put
forward a “compromise variant” that differed little from the original. The
few improvements that were introduced to the draft law were the result of
demands put forward by the alternative trade unions, which also took part in the
commission.
The situation might have seemed
altogether tragic, but there was another side to the coin. The open corruption
of the official opposition led to the rise of alternative movements on its left
flank. This is better illustrated using the example of the trade unions.
Alternative unions already have a long history in Russia. Arising after the
miners’ strike of 1989, when the Soviet Union still existed, most of them came
under the influence of anticommunist ideas. The only exception was the trade
union “Defence of Labour”, established by radical left activists. The
experience of the 1990s once again showed that liberal ideology was incompatible
with the goals of the labour movement. After a string of failures, scandals,
defeats and disappointments, the alternative trade union movement started moving
to the left. Meanwhile, Defence of Labour was in the privileged position of not
having to change its ideas and strategy. In the late 1990s the leadership of
this trade union federation was assumed by Oleg Shein, who in 1999 was also
elected by voters in the city of Astrakhan to the position of deputy to the
State Duma. Although Defence of Labour was still relatively small, a process
began in which other alternative unions united around it. A Russian trade union
congress held on 6 June 2000 not only attracted representatives from 90 per cent
of the alternative organisations, but also a number of members of FNPR unions
who were in opposition to their leaders. The congress voted to support its own
draft labour code, drawn up by Shein. On 19 June demonstrations and strikes in
support of Shein’s draft took place throughout the country. Although the
number of participants did not exceed 200,000 people, this could be considered a
turning-point for the labour movement; the apathy and demoralisation of earlier
years had been replaced by a readiness for action.
The idea of a united workers’
party hung in the air at the June trade union congress. Workers in Russia no
longer consider the KPRF their party, and expect nothing good from the
authorities. Until recently, left activists were still hoping for a split or a
leadership change in the KPRF. Quite possibly, something of the kind will happen
sooner or later, but the wait now seems too long. Most importantly, under Putin
the KPRF has definitively abandoned its role as an opposition, and has become
one of the props of the regime.
Throughout the 1990s, efforts
by the fractious left groups to unite invariably ended in failure. The situation
only changed in 1999 with the appearance of the Movement for a Workers Party (DRP),
which was joined by most of the leaders of Defence of Labour. Even after
unifying in the DRP, however, many groups persisted in making sectarian attacks
on one another, not to speak of the attacks they made on the leftists who
remained outside the unification process. For members of the left, overcoming
sectarianism is now becoming a question of life or death. The need to establish
a broad left organisation is being felt at every step, but the left itself often
lacks the experience, the knowledge and simply the personnel to make use of the
opportunities that are opening up.
The future of the left in
Russia depends to a considerable extent on the development of the anti-war
movement. Here as well, striking changes have occurred. The small size of the
demonstrations and pickets held by human rights defenders might seem to offer
graphic confirmation of the regime’s thesis that the people are united in
supporting the war. Meanwhile, the many thousands of members of the Caucasus
diaspora, as well as of Russia’s muslim minorities, have been conspicuously
absent from these demonstrations. The reason is simple. As pointed out by Ahmad
Shabazov, one of the ideologues of the Movement for Civil Rights founded by
Moscow Chechens, these human rights groups have been more interested in Western
grants than in the real situation in Chechnya, and have been unwilling to see
the links between Russia’s social problems and the war.
With the appearance on the
political scene of the Movement for Civil Rights and of the Chechen coalition
“Third Force”, the situation has changed radically. Russian society has
witnessed a new Chechen movement that is secular, internationalist and
progressive. The slogan of national independence for Chechnya has been shifted
to the background; the primary place is now taken by slogans focusing on equal
rights and the solidarity of all the oppressed. Meanwhile, the Movement for
Civil Rights aims to become not just a movement of people of Caucasus
nationality, who in Russia are subject to mockery and humiliation on a daily
basis, but also a body open to all citizens with an interest in national and
social equality. Unlike islamic nationalists who oppose everything Russian, the
ideologues of the Movement for Human Rights maintain that the “Chechen
question” cannot be settled until the “worker question” is resolved. The
practical result of this ideological shift has been agreement on united actions
between the Movement for a Workers Party and the Movement for Civil Rights. Most
likely this will only be the initial phase in the establishing of a broad
left-democratic coalition.
The history of the left, of
course, includes numerous coalitions that have not achieved their goals, as well
as movements that have had brilliant beginnings, but which later have
ignominiously collapsed. Nevertheless, the atmosphere in Russia is changing. The
coming months will be a testing time not only for coalitions arising on the left
flank of politics, but also for the regime. The economic upturn is losing
momentum, and the Russian elite is haunted by the spectre of a new economic
crisis. This crisis is looming both within the country, and outside it.
A country with a hundred and
fifty million people cannot exist solely on the income from sales of oil and
gas. In the neo-colonial economy created by the Russian oligarchs, not only the
standard of living but also the very survival of many citizens of Russia depends
on the fluctuations in the price of oil on world markets. Changes are about to
happen, and the elites feel this no less keenly than left activists. For this
very reason, the authorities are anxious to settle the question by strengthening
their machine of repression, by putting pressure on the media, and through
racist and chauvinist demagogy. This is their method of “consolidation”. The
left puts forward its own method, based on the principles of democracy and
solidarity. A collision is inevitable.
In Russia today we are seeing
only the first stage in the creation of a new democratic movement. A great deal
remains unclear, but one thing is obvious: this will be a movement of the left,
or it will not exist at all.