It's true that Murphy's article appears to constuct a youth opposition "trend" from relatively weak evidence -- a protest held by "dozens of students and other young activists" and two websites -- but in addition to some of the comments by these new dissidents I found the statement about Putin's name going "unuttered in public expressions of opposition" to be quite revealing. This phenomenon should not be news to any observer of Russia in the past couple of years, but instead of taking it for granted that many Russians are now either reticent or afraid to publicly criticize the president we should be noticing what a throwback this is to Soviet norms. By the way, the full text of the article is definitely worth a read -- I've edited it rather heavily here where shown ([...]).
In Russia, Dissent Has the Power of YouthAmen. It is very hard to get a sense of what is actually going on in Russia from the news programs on either of the state-run channels, and even NTV has been more reserved in its criticism of late. The few newspapers in Moscow & St. Petersburg that remain openly critical of the government can shout until they are blue in the face, but the fact remains that their arguments will be heard only by a fraction the people reached by the national TV channels. It's interesting to look at the following article in that context:
By Kim Murphy, Times Staff Writer
ST. PETERSBURG, Russia — Mikhail Obozov was in grade school when thousands of people took to the streets of Moscow and helped bring down the Soviet Union. The repressions of the Communist era are like old family stories, droll and sad, told over the kitchen table. "Of course I don't remember it, but I imagine it like the book by George Orwell, '1984,' " the 21-year-old engineering student said. "The repression of personality. People being brainwashed, turned into state ideologues. Actually, you can draw a lot of parallels between this novel and the situation in Russia right now."
Alarmed at what was happening under the government of President Vladimir V. Putin, Obozov this month launched a student group called Marching Without Putin. One night last week, Obozov and dozens of students and other young activists joined the pensioners who have been swarming Lenin Square here for weeks to protest cutbacks in their social benefits. Many of the youths said they were angered by bus fare increases, a possible end to military draft deferments and the erosion of democratic freedoms in Russia. Across the snowy square, they bellowed anti-Putin slogans and calls for the government to resign.
"There is no real democracy in Russia, and people who try to resist the power of the authorities are thrown into prison. That's why young people want to have real political rights. People are learning to resist, and that's good," said Alexander Iskrinsev, 20, a law student. [...]
The young protesters also did not shy from directing their venom directly at the president. Out of fear, decorum or both, Putin's name usually goes unuttered in public expressions of political opposition in Russia."We shouldn't look for scapegoats. The main person who deserves all the blame is Mr. Putin, and every new day of Putin as president pushes citizens farther from a normal life," Maxim Reznik, the 30-year-old head of the pro-democracy Yabloko party in St. Petersburg, said during Tuesday night's protest here. [...]
[...story-balancing quotes from Moving Together SPB spokesperson...]
The Putin government touched a raw nerve with students when it reduced their public transportation subsidies along with those of pensioners. Other students opposed the government crackdown on the Yukos oil company, which they saw as suffocating their future job prospects along with the Russian economy. Still more anger was raised by announcements that college students no longer get automatic draft deferments, a crucial issue for young men hoping to avoid service in Russia's war against separatists in the republic of Chechnya."First of all, we students don't want to fight in Chechnya, and secondly, we don't want to serve in the army in order to build vacation homes for generals," Obozov said.
He found wide agreement with his views in chat rooms on the Internet, and Marching Without Putin was born. So far, it has done most of its work via its website, http://www.noputin.com/, gathering several hundred supporters in cyberspace. But Obozov hopes the initial two rallies in St. Petersburg will spark others across the country. This month, the dean of his faculty at a local technical institute and an official with the municipal youth department approached Obozov and his colleagues. The official also phoned the students' parents and warned that their political activities could bring problems at school, Obozov said."He asked us not to touch on the war in Chechnya, and not to touch on Putin personally," he said. "He asked us to be more moderate, not to create problems for ourselves and others."
"It's not that we live in a police state," said Sergei Shedov, 21, a computer programming student and a co-founder of Marching Without Putin, "but we think that everything is going in that direction. "In Moscow, http://www.skaji.net/, or "Say No," was launched by a group of students as another Web-based opposition force that challenges young Russians to reject the benefits reduction law and the "unprofessional government." The site has a map pinpointing more than 80 Russian cities in which there have been protests against the new benefits law.
"We show that Russia is burning. Really, there is a big, big problem in this country. But if you tune in to the first [government-run television] channel or second channel, you will never know about it," said Skaji.net creator Alexander Korsunov, 22, a graduate student in political science. [...]
Ivanov Warns of DistrustI think what he really means is, "We need to do a better job of fooling the people into thinking we have their best interests at heart. Popular distrust of Channel 1 threatens stability and security."
Wednesday, February 2, 2005. Issue 3097. Page 3. Reuters
Growing public distrust in the authorities is becoming a threat to the country's stability and national security, Security Council Secretary Igor Ivanov said Tuesday.
Ivanov, a former foreign minister who is known for his caution in political statements and his loyalty to President Vladimir Putin, urged the Kremlin to map out a clear vision of where it was leading the country.
"There is an obvious decline in public trust in all power structures and state institutions," Ivanov said in a speech, the text of which was published on the Security Council's web site, http://www.scrf.gov.ru/.
Ivanov, addressing a meeting of experts, made his comment in a list of perceived threats to political and social stability and security. The Kremlin has been alarmed by a wave of public protests by mostly elderly people against a law scrapping state social benefits for meager cash payments. The anger has dented Putin's popularity ratings for the first time in his nearly five years of rule.
Ivanov said there was lack of public confidence over threats from terrorism, and concern over environmental and demographic problems.
Ivanov said the Kremlin had to lay out a clear strategic vision. "Generally speaking, there is a growing need to work out an integral and comprehensive vision of strategic targets in managing the state," he said.
The following MT opinion piece, actually reprinted from Izvestiya, shows that at least some observers here recognize the growing gap between the news and reality, which would seem to confirm Ivanov's concern about the "decline in public trust in all power structures and state institutions" -- although it's not what Ivanov had in mind, ORT and RTR (a.k.a. Channels 1 & 2, respectively) are nothing if not power structures and state institutions.
The Real Practical Joke Is on State TV ViewersI've highlighted another comment suggesting the prudence of not mentioning Putin -- shades of the cult of personality. Otherwise I think this article speaks for itself and does an excellent job of illustrating the sometimes surreal world of Russian TV and the often surreal political landscape here.
By Irina Petrovskaya
Wednesday, February 2, 2005. Issue 3097. Page 11
NTV news had the story of the week last week: the groundbreaking ceremony for a new $6.5 million to $7.5 million water park in the Chechen city of Gudermes. The ceremony was attended by Chechen Prime Minister Sergei Abramov and his first deputy, Ramzan Kadyrov. A number of high-profile guests from Moscow were also in attendance, including socialite and talk show host Ksenia Sobchak, who got a ride to the site in Kadyrov's Hummer. Later, she kicked off a concert and was full of optimism about the construction of the water park, as if to say that one day we will all be able to visit Chechnya in safety. She was followed on stage by the rock groups Myortviye Delfiny, or Dead Dolphins, and Zveri, or Beasts -- rather strange names in this context.
I don't know how you felt, dear reader, but I got the feeling that I was being played for a fool. Surely this couldn't be happening? But it was all for real: the water park -- the last thing war-torn Chechnya needs -- and the fair-haired Moscow socialite in the role of honored guest, and the Hummers (NTV reported that Kadyrov has eight of them in his garage) and the rock groups with symbolic names.
A few days before the ceremony in Gudermes, Channel One featured the return of "Rozygrysh," or "Practical Joke," a show that places celebrities in ridiculous situations and then invites everyone, viewers and celebs alike, to laugh at them. The first victim of the new season was none other than the omnipresent Sobchak, which to me also seemed rather symbolic. The stature of celebrities is shrinking. Some, like Sobchak, come quite literally out of nowhere -- not counting her famous surname and the many friends she must certainly have in high places -- to become the darlings of the society columns, the "faces" of glossy magazines and guests on daytime talk shows. Before you know it, they're famous, and while their fame may be dubious or closer to infamy, it's better than no fame at all. A grande dame like Sobchak isn't cut out for the 9-to-5 grind, after all.
The producers of "Rozygrysh" played on Sobchak's extreme self-confidence and her love of all that glitters. At one in the morning, she turned up at a restaurant with a girlfriend (who was apparently in on the joke) to meet with a journalist about an interview for yet another glossy magazine. The conversation itself was telling. In a businesslike manner, our heroine asked the fake journalist if she would have to undress during the photo shoot. The journalist was embarrassed, but the progressive socialite laid it on the line: "I'll show everything but my breasts," she said.
What people won't do for a little publicity.
Before long, our gal turned her attention to a couple of obviously foreign gentlemen dining at the next table. "Who's that?" Sobchak asked the restaurant staff. "That's Abdul, a prince from Africa or some Arab country. He opened a jewelry store here; he deals in diamonds."
The "prince" sent the ladies an expensive bottle of wine. They sampled it and thanked him. At this point, the two Arabs joined the ladies and produced a small box, which they presented to Sobchak's friend. Inside she discovered an enormous diamond ring. With a knowing air, Sobchak estimated the number of karats, but you got the feeling that she was hurt because the ring hadn't been offered to her.
The Eastern gentlemen were prepared to rectify this situation by giving Sobchak an identical ring, but in order to do so they would have to drive to the embassy where, by the way, a closed party was underway with Iglesias father and son in attendance. After resisting a bit to keep up appearances, the ladies agreed. They were driven in a long, white limousine not to the embassy but to an airfield, where a plane was waiting on the tarmac guarded by tough-looking guys with machine guns. The frightened ladies were told that they were all flying to a wonderful country with a stopover in Morocco.
Sobchak the socialite lost her composure at this point and turned into a raging fury with the manners and mouth of a juvenile delinquent. "What's going on?" she demanded. "Do you have any idea what'll happen to you? Don't you know who I am? You're in deep trouble. They'll take you and your buddy Abu Qadabra here and tear you to shreads!" (The socialite's tirade was largely bleeped out.) But the Arabs didn't back down. Finally, Sobchak played her trump card: "Listen carefully. My name is Ksenia Sobchak. If you don't stop this nonsense at once, you'll be in a world of trouble."
On hearing her name, the Arab fell to his knees and kissed Sobchak's feet. The practical joke was over. Everyone laughed and hugged, and even the frightening guys with machine guns gave their victim a friendly peck on the cheek.
To be honest, I expected Little Miss Priss to threaten her abductors with a different name: Putin. (If she did, the scene was prudently edited out.) What remained was more than enough to allow viewers to make an informed evaluation of this society girl's character. I'm no fan of mean-spirited practical jokes as a rule, but in this case it was warranted. All the more so because in the studio, Sobchak continued to behave like a heroine who had gotten out of a tough scrape by besting a clever foe.
This is why when I saw the same woman in the company of bearded men at the groundbreaking ceremony for a water park in Gudermes, at first I assumed it was a continuation of the same gag -- that any minute now Ramzan and Ksenia would admit they'd been putting one over on all the viewers who had long suspected that the enormous sums allocated for the rebuilding of Chechnya were being misappropriated, and that the $6.5 million to $7.5 million was actually being spent to repair water mains and restore power. Alas, this was not to be.
Our life has come to resemble a practical joke lately. But we -- and not the celebrities -- are the real victims. Take state television coverage of the Ukrainian election, for example. For months, their staff propagandists frightened us with stories about Viktor Yushchenko, whose victory, we were told, would directly threaten not just the territorial integrity of Ukraine but of Russia as well. Without a thought for their own gastric well-being, reporters in the field told us in detail what the glutton Yushchenko had eaten to make himself so sick.
How foolish must the gullible viewer now feel as he watches the news on those same stations and sees President Vladimir Putin meeting with the very same Yushchenko whom state television had portrayed as the devil incarnate. I would note that no one from those stations has ever thought of apologizing to the people of Ukraine, not to mention the viewers they misled for so long. Or to the pensioners whom they duped with reports asserting that everyone would live better following the replacement of social benefits with cash payments.
Compared to practical jokes like this, "Rozygrysh" seems like innocent fun. Then again, they say that many celebrities are on the lookout now and no longer trust the television stations. That's good advice for the average viewer, too. Be on alert. Don't believe everything you hear on television. Think. Don't be played for a fool.
Apologies for the longer-than-usual post -- as sometimes happens, now that it's written I wonder whether I've actually been able to convey here the concept I intended at the outset -- namely, the way in which these three articles tie together to show the growth of some Soviet tendencies -- mistrust (to the point of rejection) of the information provided in the state-run mass media and a reluctance to voice direct criticism of the leader. I hope the connections are more or less clear, and if you've read this post to the end then you must have found some sequence of logic to follow or at least found these articles to be interesting reading. Comments, as always, are welcome and encouraged.
No comments:
Post a Comment