Why Russians still regret the Soviet collapse

Photo: Alexey Borodin / Shutterstock

Available polling data across several organisations shows regret for the Soviet collapse to be one area of consensus among Russia’s polarised population since 1991. However, few want its return beyond a relatively small but active group of hardcore supporters. This group consisted of 28 per cent of respondents in a 2019 poll, compared to 11 per cent in 2011. Only twice has a feeling of “regret” for the Soviet collapse dipped below 50 per cent. This occurred during years of solid economic growth and prosperity (2006-07).

Paradoxical realities

In one sense, the referendum was no surprise. Stalin’s popularity reached its highest ever in a 2019 Levada poll (70 per cent). At the same time, nostalgia for the USSR has also increased. In 2020, 75 per cent of respondents believed that the Soviet Union was the best time in their country’s history. It should be stressed that this is not out of support for the Red Terror or Stalin’s purges – let alone socialism. Rather, it reflects contemporary Russia’s paradoxical realities. The left-over nostalgia for a period of stability and certainty coinciding with one’s youth co-exists with disappointment in the unpredictable present.

Russians live longer and healthier lives than ever before. Russia in 2022 compared to 1991 is a much richer, safer and in more respects than often acknowledged, freer country. Prior to the invasion of Ukraine, at least, the country was a far cry from the hardships of 1998, 1993, perestroika and even the 1950s, which are largely within living memory. Things can be – and were – much worse, though a worrying socio-economic picture is increasingly squeezing the population. Reflecting on the more positive aspects of the Soviet past provides many refuge from the paradoxes and problems of the present.

Russia in 1991 was enthusiastic about a democracy that has since degraded. Yet this enthusiasm was equally quick to dissipate. Liberalism was a vehicle for modernisation that, arguably, ignored the Russian reality at the time. As Yabloko’s party leader Grigory Yavlinsky remarked, “we messed up the reforms and didn’t come to terms with Stalinism, [and so] we ended up giving away our victory.”

Liberalism’s weakness and negative perception in contemporary Russia is directly linked to the Soviet collapse. Westernism, free markets and a paternalistic approach to the illiberal majority are also often viewed as part of this ideology in Russia. Many prominent liberals held high-ranking government positions at the end of the USSR, and even later, as Yegor Gaidar launched the market reforms. Though a good time for an imperfect democracy, this period saw ordinary people increasingly associate liberalism with the worst economic woes not seen again until 2022.

Another referendum needs urgent mention. Russian and Soviet citizens overwhelmingly voted to preserve the Soviet Union and the available public data shows a majority believe its end was not inevitable. This feeling has increased and is coupled with consensus among leading historians. The Soviet economy was alarmingly sluggish but not threatening to the USSR’s existence. The economy was just about growing, with relative full employment. However, the professional classes were becoming open to new ideas. Graduates were fed up with entering the workforce well below their pay grade and nationalism was growing in the republics. For all its faults, perestroika was something that most Soviet citizens were ready for as the economy was creaking under the weight of its domestic problems. At the same time, the Red Army that had defeated Hitler went into decline and long queues for empty shops appeared across the country. Such scenes were naturally incomprehensible to many. At the time of the August coup, the results of communism were obvious. Few in the Communist Party leadership believed in communism anymore.

Boris Yeltsin was indeed the democratically elected president of the Russian Federation but it was still a part of the USSR. Did Yeltsin really have a right to dismantle a state he did not head? By the end of the 1990s, Russia was a democracy in the sense that elections had uncertain outcomes, but more importantly in the sense that it was no longer communist. The ruling political class were mostly trying to embrace liberal democracy. Contrary to that liberal minority and initial enthusiasm for democracy, however, the majority of the Russian people did not approve of the destruction of the grand socialist project. Though they welcomed an end to its worst excesses, the Russian people equally did not want to accept blame or guilt for the crimes committed by the regime.

Russia’s “mixed” economy in 2021

According to the Levada Centre, in 2019 66 per cent of Russians regretted the Soviet collapse while 25 per cent did not. This represented an increase of 11 points in ten years. In much the same time, Russia’s economy shrank by 23.2 per cent (2011-18). The most stated, and consistent, reason for regret was the “destruction of a unified economic system”. The country’s regional economies were growing rather stagnantly following the Crimean annexation, western sanctions, the rouble’s devaluation and war in Donbas and Syria. Incomes started to shrink – 11 per cent since 2013 – and food prices also rose. Regional deficits grew (most regions were already running fiscal deficits) and all suffered budget cuts, especially to social subsidies and investment. The Russian research group Romir estimated that 46 per cent of the average family income was spent on food in 2019, up from 30 per cent in 2018.

Economic predictions during the COVID-19 pandemic were also bleak. Regional budgets were hit with a further drop of 30 per cent and tax revenue was set to fall by ten per cent. A handful of regions, like Mordovia, were facing bankruptcy and taken under the direct control of the federal government. Real incomes are since down 3.5 per cent and prices up eight per cent. Overall reliance on the state has clearly increased. This points to serious longer-term problems not unlike the late Soviet period leading up to perestroika. By the summer, two in five Russians told Levada that they could not afford the necessities.

But herein lies another paradox: the economic picture was better than expected in 2021. Russia’s economy had avoided the worst-case scenario, outperforming much of the G7 and G20. Its economy shrank less (3.1 per cent) than the global average (3.5 per cent) in 2020. Its projected GDP change was 3.8 per cent and banks were making record profits in August at around 19 billion US dollars (CBR, 2021). However, it should be noted that banks achieved this by selling off and restructuring debts. Unemployment was predicted to reach 15 per cent but it peaked, officially, at 6.4 per cent and shrunk to 5.8 per cent by April 2021. Production had also increased in general. For example, Siberian oil increased by 3.2 per cent and total production in Moscow and its surrounding regions by 15.5 per cent. The natural consequence was a lower global oil price. Despite this, Russia’s Central Bank stated that the pace of economic recovery was higher than expected and that increasingly more businesses reported production rates that had returned to pre-pandemic levels. The COVID-19 pandemic resulted in a high number of deaths and pushed a badly underfunded healthcare system to its limits, but it did not implode. It took the invasion of Ukraine to wreck the economic progress of the last 20 years.

Generational shifts and the political landscape

The political mood and economic disillusionment are increasingly felt by Russia’s youth and this fuels regret for the Soviet collapse. One survey of young people’s political views revealed that social democracy was the group’s favoured political ideology (28 per cent). Those identifying as “Russian nationalists” came in second (19 per cent), followed by communists (11 per cent) and liberals (12 per cent). Pre-invasion, the evidence pointed to the young not being more liberal than older generations. Young Russians, by and large, harbour the same diversity of political and cultural views as other age groups. Yet, the young are much less paternalistic, active in civic engagement and have lower expectations of support from the state. Only 27 per cent of the young say that they could not live without state support, as opposed to 70 per cent among older age groups. Support for Putin is also dropping, as the Kremlin cracked down on the opposition during the Duma elections in 2021.  

The lives of the youth are increasingly less settled than older generations, many of whom inherited flats and property from the Soviet collapse. Many Muscovites became millionaires in the 1990s simply due to their address. Despite this, pensions remain low at around 164 dollars per month in 2021. Whilst educational attainment levels in Russia are the fourth highest worldwide, average salaries are also lower than most of Europe. Career mobility often depends on one’s political and social connections. The young’s desire for a more settled life, like their parents and grandparents perhaps had, makes their regret for the USSR’s collapse resemble a “fear of missing out”.

Another great paradox was the revival of the Communist Party (KPRF) as the only legitimate opposition to the Kremlin. This party presents itself as the heir to the victory in the Great Patriotic War and other achievements of the Soviet state. Unlike most communist parties in Central and Eastern Europe, the KPRF never rebranded as social democrats. Instead, it held onto the Soviet legacy and Stalinism. Yet the young communist party members are typically more concerned with social justice than Soviet nostalgia, and its grassroots activists more radical than the pro-Kremlin Duma members. Members of this group are not, generally speaking, die-hard Marxist-Leninists, and have no memory of the USSR. Overall, much of the nostalgic commemorations are lost to them. But the political reality presents the KPRF with a new opportunity to challenge the Kremlin.

Communist lawmakers were among those arrested at protests in Moscow and Kazan following the arrest of Alexei Navalny. This was also true earlier in Khabarovsk in 2020. Many of those arrested have links to Navalny’s organisation, whereas the KPRF’s long-time leader, Gennady Zyuganov, and the party’s leadership repeated the line that Navalny was a “foreign agent”. The pro-Kremlin figures who campaigned for Dzerzhinsky’s return also alluded to Navalny, arguing that the historical figure should be celebrated for his ability to uncover plots against Russia cooked up in the West. The KPRF has signs of life but its leaders have thus far been unwilling to rock the boat, accustomed to the privileges of the systematic opposition. They also demonstrated unwavering support for the invasion of Ukraine. Rather than take advantage of the new members’ aspirations for social and economic justice, they cling to old Soviet slogans.   

An uncertain future

For so many in Russia it is difficult to grasp that despite very real progress since the Soviet collapse, life is much harder in new and different ways as the years of stagnation seem relevant again. Whilst a majority do not want the USSR back, their regret for its collapse manifests in their disappointment with the current political and economic status quo. It is significant that the 30-year anniversary of the collapse coincided with the appearance of a younger generation who are increasingly viewing their political, legal and economic system as unfair, unjust and insecure. Ignoring and disregarding this reality is not sustainable in the medium or long term. The economic changes of perestroika and the 1990s did not deliver, in part, because its leaders denied the severity of the economic situation. Many ordinary Russians fear these lessons have not been learnt.

James C. Pearce is a historian at the College of the Marshall Islands and author of The Use of History in Putin’s Russia (Wilmington, DE: Vernon Press, 2020).

history, Putin, Russia, Society, Soviet nostalgia