Russia’s generation P

Photo (CC) en.kremlin.ru

Many observers outside Russia often wonder about the appeal of Putin’s popularity. The short answer is that Putin has been presiding over a period of relative economic stability and makes Russians feel secure and good about themselves as residents of a great power. After a decade of economic anxiety in the 1990s, Putin’s ascent to power correlated with the increase in oil prices which fuelled Russian economic growth and enabled a subset of the population to travel abroad, buy cars and splurge in supermarkets. Most importantly, however, Putin managed to heal the phantom pains of the great power status loss: Russia seems to be feared and respected again within the international community, including the United States that is dreading Russian electoral meddling or while some countries even expect a military invasion.  

New found greatness

The Russian Levada Centre, an independent, sociological research organisation, found that in 2014 the majority of Russians (54 per cent) regretted the breakup of the Soviet Union. Specifically, their nostalgia implies that “a feeling of belonging to a great nation was lost”. This feeling of loss has been consistent since 2006, often overshadowing the economic collapse or an “increased feeling of mutual distrust”. Offering the population the perception of living within a great global power has restored pride, and the resurgence of Russia is primarily associated with Putin. A positive national identity in Russia is inextricably linked to assertive foreign policy.

The moment of geopolitical triumph for many of the millennial generation came with the annexation of Crimea, symbolised by the slogan “Crimea is ours” (Krym nash). For many, it was a moment that epitomised the new found Russian greatness and, again, it was associated with Putin’s actions. The fact that none of the western nations managed to counteract the annexation instilled a sense of renewed pride in its superpower, thereby satisfying a craving within the population. Putin’s highest popularity rating over the past 18 years was in the aftermath of the Crimea annexation – up to 86 per cent, according to the Levada Center.

 Moreover, support for the annexation in particular and the Kremlin’s foreign policy in general was increasingly connected with perceived patriotism. Ironically, patriotism has been associated with consumption – once unthinkable in the Soviet era, but absolutely understandable for a generation that grew up in a capitalist society. 

Yet, at the same time, the digital generation finds it harder to buy the Putin brand. Among them, Putin’s rating might not be the highest, especially given the visibly younger crowds attending the most recent protests compared to the protest wave of 2011 and 2012. Putin himself seems to be concerned with this decline in popularity among youngsters, attributing it to the fact that they do not remember the “Civil War of the 1990s”. In fact, the juxtaposition of the time of troubles during the 1990s with the fairly fat 2000s has been one of the main nation-building strategies employed by the Russian government, though it is not the only one.

Fighting fascists

One of the events that is vital in the construction of Russian national identity, across all generations, is the Great Patriotic War – the memory of which is especially emotionally charged. In this context, “fascism” is not simply a dry term describing distant events and existing only on the pages of history books. Rather, it is a highly evocative concept that calls up a series of vivid images saturated with distinctive meanings and associations. It has a deep contemporary relevance, touching on issues at the very core of post-Soviet Russian identity. The Great Patriotic War represents one of the few events in Russian history capable of uniting the overwhelming majority of Russians, and precisely for this reason the memory of the war was actively used for identity-making purposes in the late 1990s and early 2000s. The revival of the victory parade on Red Square in 1995, numerous patriotic commemorative initiatives by pro-government organisations, the use of St George’s ribbon as a visual commemorative symbol, and the large volume of cinematic works on the war all testify to the rejuvenation of the war memory.

Putin emphasises his connection to the times when Russia was great. The fact that his potential electorate does not remember the era in question works in his favour. The more important question, however, is whether Generation P actually buys those identity-building narratives. Given that they are digital natives, it is important to follow the conversation on Russian social media in order to get a snapshot of public opinion.   

The importance of the Great Patriotic War narrative for Generation P is hard to overestimate. Around Victory Day on May 9th, social networks are filled with different forms of war commemoration, from ribbons on avatars to posts about relatives. One mass-scale grassroots initiative emerged in Tomsk in 2011, called the Immortal Regiment, and functions both online and offline. Offline, people gather on the streets on May 9th every year and carry portraits of their parents and grandparents who fought in the war. Russians post photographs online with descriptions and they often add the #immortalregiment (#bessmertnyipolk) hashtag. The movement has over 130,000 subscribers on VKontakte (the Russian social media site that is similar to Facebook) and more than 500 other regional Immortal Regiment groups exist.

But the Great Patriotic War commemoration can also turn ugly. One of the reasons Russian public opinion turned against Ukraine in 2013 was because state TV and governmental officials framed the EuroMaidan and ensuing events as a type of Second World War 2.0. Supporters of the EuroMaidan were overwhelmingly described as reincarnated fascists and the newly elected government were marked out as a “junta”. And, moreover, hostilities in the east of Ukraine were depicted as a military operation against Russian-speaking civilians. Given the deeply emotional parallels with the Great Patriotic War, this framing was extremely successful.

Long live the USSR

Another visible trend on social media, relating to Generation P’s identity, is the idealisation of the Soviet past. Young people who never lived in the USSR seem to experience nostalgia for those days which were depicted in famous films of Eldar Ryazanov and Leonid Gaidai. For many, the life painted in these Soviet films represents a perfect snapshot of the reality of that time. This nostalgia continues in online debates. An example of one such discussion took place in the comments section of a post by a popular Russian blogger named Ilya Varlamov, who wrote several posts criticising Soviet realities. He received a large number of comments accusing him of being unpatriotic.

In the colloquial understanding, an “unpatriotic” person is someone whose purchasing habits neglect Russia’s great power ambitions – by buying European cheeses or American-designed smartphones. This is reminiscent with the Soviet notion of “sausage immigration” – someone who left the USSR to chase economic prosperity instead of patriotically remained in the homeland. Generation P does not know what the Soviet Union was like and naïvely associates it with economic stability, where education and health care were free and most people had job security. “It was way more predictable, there was more security. There was little difference between the income of the rich and the poor. There were fewer paupers. Food was of higher quality …  [there was] good and free medical care. Cities and villages were kept cleaner. The basic needs of people were met more systematically,” wrote one online user.  

The government’s need to protect the memory of Soviet greatness also became apparent when Armando Iannucci’s satirical film The Death of Stalin, which revolves around the vicious infighting that followed Stalin’s death in 1953, was denied a screening license in late January this year. Pavel Pozhigailo, a member of the culture ministry’s council, said that the film insulted Soviet history and was “undesirable” in cinemas ahead of the March presidential election. Representatives of Russia’s Communist party, the second largest party in parliament, called the film “a form of psychological pressure against our country”. A member of the Just Russia party, Elena Drapeko, called it “a libellous matter, a provocation, an attempt to convince us that our country is terrible and our people are idiots, and our rulers are fools”. Twenty-two prominent Russian directors, including the Oscar-winning Nikita Mikhalkov, signed a letter asking to revoke the screening license because the film was apparently “a libel on the history of our country, a malicious and absolutely inappropriate alleged ‘comedy’ that denigrates the memory of our citizens who defeated fascism”.  The letter further read: “The release of the film on the eve of the celebration of the 75th anniversary of the Battle of Stalingrad is a spit in the face of all those who died there, and all those who are still alive.”

Cherry-picking narratives

Do Russian millennials care about a film besmirching Russia’s history? Not that much, it seems. One of the most popular VKontakte pages – MDK – with over eight million users did not even post about it. Antimaidan – a page which focuses on Russia’s foreign policy and has expressed a lot of anti-western and anti-Ukrainian sentiment – only posted a screenshot of a tweet that suggested making a film about the death of Princess Diana. The comments from such a nationalistic audience were relatively moderate. One of the users wrote: “With this kind of ‘movie’ they are forming a perception of Russia among their sheeple. When are we going to start shooting similar movies about stupid Americans? We could invest a fair amount of money into it. About our own Rambos killing a bunch of American Navy SEALs. I would even show these films to my children for patriotic purposes.” But there were also other reactions. “You compare Diana and a monster who killed a lot of his people. If you condemn Hitler you should condemn Stalin as well,” one user noted.

The Russian digital generation has espoused a national identity that unites several governmentally-sponsored narratives. Given that some do not remember the 1990s well, they tend to idealise the Soviet past as a type of economically secure version of today’s Russia: a country with a great power status, lots of supermarkets and social security. Generation P is on board with “Crimea is ours” and the defeat of fascism, but they do not necessarily wade into the previous stories of greatness. The question, however, is how long Putin’s appeal to the younger generations will last. Even though they have not witnessed anybody else in power, they might still be willing to trade great power aspirations for fresh tomatoes in winter.

Elizaveta Gaufman is a post-doctoral fellow at the Institute for Intercultural and International Studies at the University of Bremen. She is the author of the recent book Security Threats and Public Perception: Digital Russia and the Ukraine Crisis.

elections, Russia, Vladimir Putin, Youth