This blog is about films (but not only), Freud, Lacan, psychoanalysis, cultural studies, pop culture/culture industry.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Russian Paradoxes - take 2

It was a cold February night in Moscow. On the outskirts of the metropolis, immigrants from the Kavkaz were huddled inside old crumbling paneláks with no heating and cardboard boxes for windowpanes, while packs of starved dogs roamed the dark side streets. On the broad avenues in the center of town, silver and black Jaguars and Benz limos were zooming to and fro, terrorizing the few pedestrians that dared to venture out onto the frozen boulevards.

In the depths of the Kreml, behind thick, heavy wooden doors, sprawled out on big leather armchairs, Dima and Vladya were caught in somnolent conversation when the doors flew open and a flunky in a black tux approached the two titans with a timid step. A bevy of tall, slender and breathtaking Slavic beauties, scantily clad in no more than Gucci belts, D&G sunglasses and Dior shoes, slouching and giggling as they were around the two men, stopped short in their chatter and looked at the flunky as he stood a few feet away from his superiors, wearing an expression of anxious yet diffident excitement. The men looked up. Vladya waved in disgust and busied himself cutting another line of coke. Dima brushed away two beauties from off his lap and went over to the flunky, a half-empty bottle of Stolichnaya in his hand.
Dima wrapped his hand around the flunky’s shoulder and turned him away from Vladya and the girls. “Thank god”, said Dima, “I thought I’m gonna have to listen to more of his stories about the university years in Leningrad, uff.” The flunky smiled. “Anyway, Valery, it’s good you came. What’s up?” The flunky’s smile withered, and the anxious look crept back into his eyes. “It’s the Kosovars, sir. They’ve declared… they’ve declared their independence from Serbia,” blurted the flunky earnestly. Dima shrugged, “Ay ay ay… well, at least we don’t have to listen to any more of them Leningrad university years gavnoyis, ah?” He chuckled and patted the flunky on the back. “Go, go, eh, I will tell Vladya, yes, OK? Thank you, Valery.” The flunky gave a quick bow and made for the door.

Dima turned back to his armchair. The girls were louder and laughing now. Vladya finished making two more long lines of coke on the table. He threw a look back at Dima, “Eh, Dima! Pchol, davay!” and ducked to snort one of them. Dima took a swig of his Stoli and crashed back down into the armchair. “Vladya, listen,” he looked at his bloodshot companion, “it’s the Kosovar… they’ve declared independence from Serbia.”
Vladya waved in disgust again.
“Aahhh, xuy blat”, he said, and dived in to snort the other line of coke.

Now let’s suppose we could teleport ourselves back in space and time to that very night in the Kreml, which would put us in the right mood and in the right spot to draw the outlines of the two additional perpectives through which people read and perceive Russian foreign policy in the context of Kosovo’s independence and the invasion into Georgia.

The Evil Genius
Not too far removed from the above mentioned dupes who’d like us to believe their two-bit schizophrenic nonsense, are those commentators and observers who, rather than staying on the surface of things (or, god forbid, try and dig deeper), prefer to see spooks and ghosts everywhere; and whatever they can’t explain, they just sprinkle with a heavy coat of conspiracy and sinister ingenuity.

When asked to explicate the seeming contradiction in Russia’s stance on Kosovo on the one hand, and on the secessionist regions of Georgia on the other hand, this lot will tell you (with a sufficient dose of equivocal winks, nudges and c’mon-ye-can’t-be-that-naïve-eye-rolling), “of course they said that and went ahead and did sth else… get real, this is what politics is all about”. Rather than being too gulible, the members of this here bunch are a little too smart for their own good. The problem is, again, that if you really follow their logic to its fullest extent, you only end up with more contradictions and questions than when you started out.

So they’re likely to tell you that Russia was only making the most out of the international circumstances, in both cases.

In the first case, they spoke out against Kosovo’s independence, fully aware that it will happen anyway. Why would they do that, the less savvy observer may ask? Simple, the sly and slick proponent of this worldview will tell you – to achieve several goals at once: to continue Russia’s traditional policy line in the Balkans and former Yugoslavia (don’t forget that the Russians are only too happy to play the role of consistently aiding the poor small Slav nations against the big superpowers in the West, as they have allegedly done since WWI, throughout the 1990s, and everafter, it seems); to send out a clear message to all the provinces of the Russian Federation that would like to toy with the idea of also declaring independence; to tell the world off and go against the general “Western” stance, so that later on, they could again paddle against the stream on a policy issue that they actually care about, and say “well, you went the other way when it suited you, so now you got to give in to us, so that we’re even”.

Then in the second case, Russian aggression was masked by Putin’s heartfelt (NOT!) comments about the acts of genocide perpetrated by the Georgian armed forces against the (here it goes again…) peace-loving people of South Ossetia. “Could we have sat aside indifferently and let the murderous Saakashvili attack the city of Cchinvali while its citizens were asleep in their beds?” asks Medvedev, coy as a choir boy caught stealing from the charity box.

-That’s what politics is like – you do one thing, and say sth else.
-Why?
-Cos you got to, you have to give a good diplomatic cover to your violent actions. That’s REAL politics for you. I mean, c’mon man, you never heard of Machiavelli?
-So they didn’t really mean it?
-Of course they didn’t!
-Uh-huh.


The problem is, this again raises several bothersome questions.

If the Russians didn’t really mean it, why did they give us all them glib lies about geonocide in South Ossestia and cultural oppression in Abchazia? To mask their true intentions? Well, lemme tell ye, I might be the naïve guy in this story, but you would have to think the Russians are very unintelligent if you could imagine them believing that these 3rd class Soviet propaganda lies could really ever convince anybody. From the most vehement Chechen patriots (who once had the pleasure of finding out how deeply emotionally touched Putin is by acts of genocide), to the most patriotic Russians (who’d like to sock it to the Georgians as much as possible, and were lined along the border, volunteering to enlist and join the Russian “Peace Keeping” forces occupying Georgia), EVERYBODY knows that the Russians don’t really mean these mock human-rights statements. If anything, these statements only serve to make their actions seem more cynical and sinister. In this particular case, the mask only serves to tell us more about the real person behind it, than that person’s actual face – as Žižek says (secondum Lacan), there’s more truth in the mask than in the subject’s real-life persona.

So what do the Russian statements about Kosovo’s independence and about genocide in South Ossetia really mean? What do the words mean – i.e. how should we read, interpret and understand these statements? What does the fact that they’re saying sth they don’t really mean tell us about them? What does the fact that they’re saying sth they don’t really mean tell the Russians about themselves? And finally, what does the fact that the Russians are saying sth that they don't really want to say (assuming they would be happier if they could let loose and say "Kibinimat, these Georgians think they can do whatever they want? They forgot they need to think about their good neighbor Russia before they talk to their American friends...") tell us about the Russians in particular and about current international politics in general?

And if you’re feeling a pestering would-be realist inside you saying “but that’s what diplomacy and politics are about – saying stuff you don’t believe in! everybody does that… like, Machiavelli, man…”, all I can do is again repeat and emphasize the following: OK, so they don’t trully believe in what they say. But they did feel obliged to say it, and they did choose their words freely (i.e. free of any direct coercion).

As to the former – the compelling need of excusing their acts by the most blatant and transparent cynical lip-service: Russia’s acts radiate of complete and unlimited sovereignty, but like it or not, the Russians are still caught in the web of language. They do not only act, but also speak. And on this turf, they are not entirely sovereign and never can be. Back to Lacan via Žižek – the Big Other is forcing Russia to say sth, and not to leave their acts without commentary. Just like when we say “oops” when we see somebody trip and fall. Our words neither add nor alter anything about what objectively happened, but we still feel compelled to register our experience in the realm of words and signs.

As to the latter – choosing their own words:… and here’s the cute thing about psychology and structure: if the Russians made these statements at a time in which they let their emotions get the better of them, they’re caught out; that is, they give us a peak into what’s going on inside their heads. On the other hand, if the Russians painstakingly thought it out before they made these statements – they’re caught out, once more, as they are trying so much to hide sth, masking it, shaping it, honing it, that they end up leaving more traces of their real persona than they would have left in more spontaneous and less orchestrated statements. In fact, the more cold and calculating their enunciations, the more they give themselves out.

And just to put another sock down the throat of that pesky realist inside your head, telling you lies and deceit are part and parcel of the instrumental logic employed by politicians - those who actually bothered to read Machiavelli's Prince, rather than just read about it, must have felt troubled by the last chapter of the book. After going on and on and on about necessita and about how the ruler should do whatever circumstances call for, and leave values and morals to the philosophers, Machiavelli let's loose on the true reason he wrote his book: to inspire the young Medici to get his act together and kick all the no-good scummy Germans, French, Austrian, Swiss... mo-fo's out of Italy. Fuori e barbari! Which just goes to show you that even behind the most instrumental and calculating of all realists and scheming bastards (as popular history would like to portray good old Nick), there's an idealogue and a nationalist after all (and I guess this is where I should give a shoutout to Martin van Creveld, my slightly nutty yet brialliant professor of political thought).

I think that the material cause of the current Russian pathology and seeming schizophrenia is the fact that Russia’s borders have become evermore porous by Russia’s very own actions. Its sovereignty has been detracted by the invasion of Georgia (exceeding and transgressing the boundaries of its own geographical body); by the recognition of Abchazia and South Ossetia as independent regions (giving all the secessionist regions of Russia a symbolic ground to base their claims on); and by unofficially extending the limits of the Russian Federation to include these two (in)dependent regions, South Ossetia and Abchazia. They actually called their own bluff – where does Big Mother Russia really begin and end? Answering that question is not as simple as it seemed to be several months ago.

No comments:

Post a Comment