A 21st century Homo sovieticus?
Instead of portraying the remnants of the Belarusian Homo sovieticus as a problem, we should see it as a challenge and potential advantage: subservience and passivity as potential openness; collectivism as a chance to build a civil community; adaptability and opportunism as resourcefulness; and the multi-layered identity as an expression of a modern civil nation.
October 4, 2017 -
Maxim Rust
-
AnalysisIssue #5/2017Magazine
Photo: diasUndKompott (CC) commons.wikimedia.org
Western researchers and travellers alike tend to see Belarus as a symbol of the Soviet system. It is often portrayed as a place of mothballed communism where one can find the most blatant examples of Homo sovieticus. Yet, even though more than 25 years have passed since the collapse of the USSR, the topic of the Homo sovieticus mentality in Belarus is still an under-researched area and a subject of debate both within the country and in the West.
The concept of Homo sovieticus was first used in publication by the Soviet sociologist and philosopher Alexander Zinoviev and later became the subject of research and interpretations of a wide array of scholars. The Soviet man has several main characteristics, including collectivism, subservience, opportunism, adaptability, lack of respect for the rule of law, a monistic world view and an instrumental approach to religion or lack thereof. It may seem that Homo sovieticus still inhabits today’s Belarus, but is that really the case? Or has it transformed into an intermediate form of Homo post-sovieticus?
Soviet cities – Soviet minds?
The first thing that a newcomer encounters in Belarus are the cities and architecture which constitute a clear example of the Soviet legacy. For outsiders, it may be difficult to understand why in the capital of an independent country there are so many streets and squares carrying the names of communist activists and organisations. Why Marx and Lenin Streets are the most charming areas of Minsk and the main square of Grodno, where beautiful Belarusian churches stand, is called Soviet Square? Interestingly, Minsk is also the only place in the world with a street named after the first president of the Polish People’s Republic – Bolesław Bierut, who in Polish historiography is largely seen as a Stalinist warlord.
One could list many such examples and for many foreigners this is enough to deem Belarus a Homo sovieticus state, which still glorifies the heroes of the past totalitarian system and has never dared to start a de-communisation process. Yet, in fact, few Belarusians know the stories of these street patrons. For most of them the names of streets and squares in Belarusian cities are just names, they have been embedded in the local slang and have no ideological connotation. What is more curious for the young regulars of hip bars on Marx Street is why the cocktails cost more here than they do in Warsaw or about the same as in Berlin. Young people also know that in the game Pokémon Go, popular last year, the best Pokémon were found at the bust of Felix Dzerzhinsky, but few are interested in who Dzerzhinsky actually was.
The situation is slightly different when it comes to the architecture itself, which is a blend of historical and modern influences, monolithic buildings made in the USSR as well as grey, ugly Soviet blocs. Belarusians themselves think that there is too much ugly and tasteless Soviet architecture. This belief is usually associated by an indispensable Homo sovieticus trait – an unequivocally idealised image of Europe (monistic worldview). People with lower income who cannot afford to travel to the “promised land” – the Schengen zone – choose trips to cheaper locations, even for Belarusian income, such as Lviv. Belarusians often return amazed by Lviv’s European spirit, colours and tenement houses. But once they can afford a trip to Warsaw or Vilnius, they often return disillusioned, as many Western cities have a similarly average architecture – grey and uninteresting.
The movie Stilyagi by Valery Todorovsky is a great illustration of this issue. It tells the story of a group of young Muscovites in the 1950s, rebelling against the coarse lifestyle of the Russian city by dressing up in colourful, outlandish outfits, thinking that this is what people in the West look like. When one of them finally goes to the United States, he is astonished to find that the desired West is not colourful and outlandish, but just normal.
Even foreigners often point out that the above-mentioned Lviv, which wants to be European too much, is the epitome of the imagined West. After leaving Belarus, they see Belarusian cities in a different light – apart from the stereotypical cleanness, they usually see much more “Europe” than they expected, and sometimes even more than in Ukraine or Romania. Thus maybe such a co-existence of Soviet monuments, historical architecture and churches of different faiths is not the emanation of the Homo sovieticus, but make these cities authentic?
Opportunism and apathy
In the discussion on Homo post-sovieticus in individual post-Soviet states, economic relations often play the most important role. According to the classical understanding, Homo sovieticus does not respect private property. It sees public property as belonging to no one and has a dismissive attitude to law (which also inclines being prone to corruption). When it comes to economics, one can see a clear Soviet legacy, especially in the way the Belarusian economy functions. This is, however, mainly because of the Belarusian ruling elite, who do not hide the fact that they see the archaic mechanism of central planning as most effective. All Belarusians pay a price for this attitude of the authorities – for the last five years or so, the country has been in a deep financial crisis.
In these circumstances, the Belarusian Homo sovieticus manifests itself in curious ways. Opportunism and apathy are a typical response. Belarusians, while complaining that the situation is bad and they earn little, are trying to survive without rebelling. They say that the state provides them with the bare minimum which is enough to survive. Yet, the expert predictions stating that every economic crisis will be the beginning of the end of the Belarusian regime have so far failed. Even a very bad economic situation will not change the dismissive attitude to law or corruption, typical for the Homo sovieticus mentality. Belarusians in a large part respect and follow the law. Even if they often complain that it is stupid or inhumane, they function within its limits and rather look for ways to operate within the system rather than break the rules. Corruption is another issue – in this area Belarus is much better than Ukraine or Russia.
The attitude towards corruption is very negative and corruption scandals usually take place at the “top” and not in everyday human interaction. That does not mean, of course, that the phenomenon does not exist, only its character is different for a post-Soviet space. In this sense, corruption in Belarus is more “westernised”, as it is connected with paying for the potential risk one accepts for breaking the law. This is unlike in Ukraine, where corruption is common, acceptable and usually works as a fee payable to an official for performing his/her duties.
As opposed to the issues of obedience to the law and corruption, where Belarus contradicts the Homo post-sovieticus stereotype, the adaptability thesis is more than relevant. In the Belarusian case it often takes the form of creative entrepreneurial thinking: How to operate within very limited conditions to earn money without breaking the law? Several products and services which have conquered global markets are the case in point. The popular internet game “World of Tanks”, Viber Messenger, MSQRD and the maps.me app are all Belarusian products. Of course, one can say that this example has nothing to do with Homo sovieticus, but rather with a fast transition from the Soviet man to the neoliberal man. Indeed, in some post-Soviet states that was the case. But in Belarus it is precisely an expression of the resourcefulness and entrepreneurialism of the Homo post-sovieticus.
What alternative?
In civil society and politics, Homo sovieticus can be characterised by subservience, collectivism, submissiveness and passivity. At first glance, Belarus is the ideal example of Homo sovieticus: for over 20 years the state has been ruled by the same man, the society is passive and does not protest while the democratic opposition is scarce and repressed. But if one looks closer at the nature of the Belarusian political system, one will find several paradoxes which escape these simplified conclusions.
The most important question is: Have Belarusians ever had a real alternative? Maybe the citizens are not as subservient in the classical understanding of the term, but rather opportunistic and passive? They do not all love President Alyaksandr Lukashenka, just like a good Homo sovieticus would. They simply do not see any real alternative. The system is not democratic but it gives most members of society stability and the minimum needed to survive. The ruling elite have offered the people a simplified worldview and guarantee stability. And that, for the majority of Belarusians, is more important than what the incomprehensible and out of touch with reality opposition parties say.
Speaking of the opposition, the simplified dichotomous division – popular in the West – of the ruling elite as examples of Homo sovieticus mentality versus the Belarusian opposition as an example of democratic western neoliberals also requires correction; namely a deconstruction of the myth of the “repressed minority”. Indeed, the undemocratic, partly authoritarian character of the Belarusian regime, among other factors, is responsible for the poor state of the opposition. However, subjective factors should not be forgotten such as the fact that support for the opposition is within the margin of statistical error and that their leaders are already dividing roles in a non-existent government, arguing over imagined functions.
Moreover, for the past 20 years the same leaders have been reluctant to share their limited influence and largely imagined power with the younger generation of opposition activists. Finally, the problem is the attitude of the opposition to certain European values and norms. For example, the “Free Belarus” programme published last spring which was prepared by several gurus of the Belarusian opposition reads that the EU is “an institution of ideological intolerance, ultra-leftism and aggressive godlessness” and a harmonious and good society according to the programme is one that “can secure the realisation of natural female functions”.
Of course, if we take into account the current popularity of right-wing illiberal rhetoric of Putin and Orban-likes, such a stance might not be very surprising. In the end, political views are a private matter and everyone has a right to their own vision of the social order. However, the situation shows that the Belarusian counter-elite in a large part present the same Homo sovieticus attitudes as the ruling authorities. The only difference is that the latter do not hide it. On the contrary, they have built their positions around such sentiments, and that is why there is no alternative.
Subservience and collectivism
Still, the importance of the political factor in the functioning of contemporary Belarus should not be overrated. For the majority of society, especially the youth, politics as such is a very abstract concept and simply unattractive. And this is not only the question of fatigue or a focus on simple existential matters. It is also the fact that for young people, participation in oppositional organisations means not merely potential repressions, but a waste of time, and getting involved in pro-regime organisations carries benefits only for a small group of people.
Against this background, such Homo sovieticus traits as subservience and passivity are particularly important. While they are usually presented as pejorative, in Belarusian conditions they could trigger a radical social change. This is because the subservience and passivity of Belarusian society carries a promise of… openness. One that is understood as accepting the norms and rules imposed from above. This, in turn, presents a great opportunity, but also a threat – if we treat social consciousness as a form, which should be filled with content. The passivity of Belarusian society can mean that its voice and attitudes towards certain issues would be much easier to manage than it is the case in Western Europe.
The myth about the tolerance of Belarusians, for example, can prove to be an advantage when it comes to attitudes towards LGBT groups. For a long time, the issue of LGBT rights existed as a normal element of life – society might have subconsciously condemned non-heteronormative relations, but there were no signs of aggression towards LGBT people. Several years ago, the first active organisations advocating for gay rights were created and as long as they focused on environmental and social issues per se, there were no problems. Only when these groups began to look at issues seen by the state as “politics”, thus a domain reserved for the ruling elite, the situation dramatically changed. A negative and condemning narrative appeared and repressions followed, but not because LGBT groups were viewed through the prism of their difference and perceived immorality, but because in the eyes of the authorities they became anti-systemic, like the opposition.
Thus, a negative message was implanted from above. The myth about tolerant Belarusians should be refuted – it is only a tool used for internal purposes, aiming at comforting the nation’s collective ego. Of course, this does not mean that Belarusian society is intolerant. In light of recent research, the level of tolerance in various areas in Belarus is much higher than in many other post-Soviet states, including the Baltic states. Intolerance in Belarus is not caused by attitudes or beliefs, but by the fact that the country is closed. And that is why the possibility of subservience and passivity of Homo sovieticus translating into openness is so important.
Collectivism is another important factor. There is no point to talk about its pejorative meaning but instead look at this phenomenon as the ability of the citizens to connect in defence of a common goal. First, it should be noted that contrary to stereotypes, Belarusian society is not as collectivistic as it may seem. And the declarations by the authorities about the “common effort in the name of a better tomorrow by the whole nation” are nothing more than a post-Soviet anachronism and part of state ideology, which neither the state nor the people believe in. Belarusians are usually very individualistic or even egoistic, they just have to function in such restrained conditions. Egoism and delusional collectivism are also characteristic of Homo post-sovieticus.
Collectivism proved to be the catalyst for people to come together to fight for their rights on a number of occasions. In autumn 2016 a wave of protests hit through the country in opposition to the so-called “social parasite law” which aimed to tax the unemployed. The demonstrations saw thousands of people, not only activists and opposition, but also common workers, uniting in protest against the bill. They were not organised by oppositional politicians, simply the tolerance threshold of the common people had been breached. The authorities were frightened by the scale of the protests. And then the unthinkable happened – the authorities withdrew the bill due to social pressure. Thus the post-Soviet collectivism can turn into social (not political!) activism any time and that is why the phenomenon of negative collectivism should be viewed in terms of potential community building.
Blurred identity and fake religiosity
The question of Belarusian national identity versus identification with the state is still an under-researched area of study. Belarusian researcher Aleh Latyshonak asked a provocative question: “Are there any Belarusians in Belarus”? In his view, the issue of Belarusian identity only arises when one looks for an answer to the question of what it means to be a Belarusian. For some, a real Belarusian is a person recalling the times of the Great Duchy of Lithuania, speaking Belarusian and glorifying the red and white flag. For others, much more important are the relations with Russia and the unity of Slavs. Others look back to the Soviet times.
There is no doubt that the Belarusian identity is still blurred, complicated and multi-layered. Contemporary identity is most often a multi-level issue in which various identities (such as I – Belarusian, I – Polish) often overlap and complement one another, but are not mutually exclusive. And that is the main feature of the Belarusian Homo post-sovieticus mentality. Self-identification in Belarus is most often connected with the state and not the nation. Being Belarusian means being a citizen of a country and not a representative of a specific ethnic group. And although over the past several years the trend to promote national belonging has been on the rise, especially among young people, state-related identity still dominates. This is hardly surprising, as over the past 25 years of Belarusian transformation, neither the authorities, nor the counter-elite managed to fill the identity void.
The question of blurred identity is connected with yet another important feature of Belarusian Homo post-sovieticus mentality – the lack of a homeland. Emotional relations with a concept of homeland are much looser than in the case of Ukraine or Russia. Many researchers see the lack of a fixed identity and a defined motherland as a negative phenomenon. However, I think that the domination of identification with the state over national identity can lower the possibility of potential conflict based on nationality and nationalistic tendencies. The lack of a homeland can translate into greater mobility, especially among young people, on the global labour market. Civic nations are much better equipped to deal with global challenges than ethno-cultural ones.
Finally, an important characteristic of Homo post-sovieticus which has been present in Belarusian society is a low level of religiousness. According to recent research, 60 per cent of the Belarusian society consider themselves a believer. However, it has to be remembered that in the majority of cases faith is not preceded by a deep reflection, but rather related to belonging to a certain church – in this case the Orthodox church – superficially and in line with the social imperative that “this is the right thing”. State atheism as a Soviet legacy has survived in Belarus. Thus “believers” in Belarus include agnostics and people believing in paranormal powers. The division of church and state in Belarus is a fact and in terms of secularity of social life, Belarus is much closer to France, the Czech Republic or Sweden, than Ukraine, Russia or Poland.
This secularity also influences a number of fundamental issues, such as the development of medicine and scientific research. Neither society nor the elite tolerate the church’s intervention in state matters – it is treated as crossing established boundaries. Faith and religion remain in the private sphere. For example, in the conservative and Soviet Belarus, sex reassignment surgeries are considered normal medical procedures, covered by the state insurance and thus free. Moreover, according to medical organisations the Belarusian model of managing such operations is the best in the Commonwealth of Independent States and one of the best in Europe when it comes to respecting human rights.
Globalisation factor
“Santa Claus is coming to Africa, and Mickey Mouse is standing in front of Paris, we’re all living in America, America is wonderful” sings German vocalist Till Lindemann in one of Rammstein’s songs. Lindemann notices that the world is a global village, we all use the same gadgets and globalisation is at its peak. And he is right. Many of the experts and analysts who call the post-Soviet states “countries of delayed globalisation” or claim that globalisation has not yet arrived in Belarus, are simply wrong. One can have the same coffee in Minsk, Lisbon or New York. Belarusians are using the same equipment, applications or social networks as Western Europeans. And even the state monopoly for TV and radio is not such an obstacle, as it was a few years ago. Belarus has a strong internet infrastructure and so far the authorities have not indicated that they want to switch it off.
Why is the globalisation factor so important? Because the current conditions of life and work in many post-Soviet societies are similar – there are almost no obstacles in social and political activism that the lack of development and access to technology used to pose. The problem is not that there are Homo post-sovieticus societies. It lies in the elite. Thus instead of portraying the remnants of the Belarusian Homo sovieticus as a problem, we should see it as a challenge and potential advantage: subservience and passivity as potential openness; collectivism as a chance to build a civil society; adaptability and opportunism as resourcefulness and the multi-layered identity as an expression of a modern civil nation.
Western civilisation gave its societies civil freedoms and the Soviet civilisation gave its nations freedom from politics. Contemporary Belarus can still be viewed as a society in the state of social anomy. Thus, using the vocabulary of social engineering, it is up to the elite what sort of society will come out of the still flexible community: modern, open and tolerant; or closed, superstitious and xenophobic.
Translated by Agnieszka Pikulicka-Wilczewska
Maxim Rust is a political scientist and graduate of doctoral studies at the University of Warsaw. His research interests include political elite and transformation processes in the post-Soviet space.




































