Pål Kolstø: Political construction sites: Nation-building in Russia and the post-Soviet States. 2000 Boulder, Colorado: Westview press 2000, pp. 81-104
uncorrected version
Professor
Pål Kolstø
Dept.
of East European and Oriental Studies
University
of Oslo
Box
1030, Blindern
N-0315
Oslo, Norway
tel
(+47) 22 85 67 99/22 85 67 97
fax
(+47)22 85 41 40
home
address (weekends and Mondays):
Ramsvig
50 g
N-4015
Stavanger, Norway
tel/fax
home (+47) 51 56 20 82
e-mail
Pal.Kolsto@east.uio.no
Chapter 5. Integration or alienation? Russians in the former
Soviet republics
In the outskirts of the core area of Russian settlements, Russians have
been living intermingled with other ethnic groups for centuries. However, it
was only towards the second half of the last century that large-scale migration
of Russians to the peripheries of the Tsarist empire commenced. To a large
extent this migration was triggered by the societal changes usually referred to
as “modernization.” Together with the Jews, the Russians were the
first ethnic group in the empire to be affected by these changes. More and more
Russians received education, moved to the cities and acquired a modern
lifestyle. Infant mortality was significantly reduced, leading to high
population growth. This demographic pressure was to some extent alleviated by
migration to the outlying non-Russian regions of the empire.[1]
This Russian migration consisted partly of peasants in search of new
land to till, but increasingly the Russian migrants moved to the new industrial
towns and cities that were growing rapidly at the time--Riga, Baku, Yuzovka
(Donetsk) and others. The local population in these areas--Latvians,
Ukrainians, Azeris, etc.--were generally less motivated and less qualified for
work in the new factories. As millions of new Russians joined the first waves
of migrants after the Russian Revolution, they also settled overwhelmingly in
urban areas. All over the Soviet Union, towns and cities acquired an
unmistakably Russian look, while the surrounding countryside kept its
traditional lifestyle.
In the Soviet era ever more new ethnic groups in the USSR were drawn
into the modernization process. Even so, a kind of ethnic division of labor
nevertheless continued to function in many places. During the period of the
first two five-year plans in the 1930s, in particular, when the country
underwent headlong industrialization, veritable torrents of Russian migrants
flooded the non-Russian republics. Between 1926 and 1939 the number of Russians
living outside of the RSFSR rose from 5.1 millions to 9.3 millions, almost a
doubling in 13 years.[2]
Some of these Russian migrants, no doubt, returned to the Russian core
area after a while, but many of them remained, got married in their new place
of residence, raised children who felt at home there, and generally settled
down. By the time of the last Soviet census in 1989 the size of this Russian
“diaspora” had reached 25 millions, or approximately 17 percent of
all Russians in the Soviet Union. And then, when the Soviet unitary state
collapsed, these people were no longer an “internal,” but an
external diaspora.[3]
On numerous occasions Russian politicians have pointed to the existence
of these 25 million Russians as a source of great concern. Indeed, taken together
they represent by far the largest minority created by the break-up of the
Soviet Union. Given the fact that they enjoy the express backing of the most
powerful post-Soviet state, Russia, they are also politically the most
important group. It is not, however, a foregone conclusion that the Russian
diaspora issue will necessarily lead to political pandemonium. Whether or not
this will happen primarily depends on three factors: the attitudes and actions
of the state authorities and titular nations in the new states, the political
course taken by the Russian Federation, and finally, the behavior of the
Russian minorities themselves. These three variables interact with each other,
and may lead to either integration or alienation of the Russians in their new homelands.[4]
Political leaders in Russia are often accused of exploiting the Russian
diaspora issue for ulterior purposes.[5]
In Moscow, on the other hand, assertions are heard that state leaders in the
“near abroad” frequently flash the diaspora card in order to extort
economic concessions from Russia. Whenever Russia demands that these states pay
their substantial arrears for Russian oil and gas deliveries, their leaders
complain that such demands will lead to economic hardships which, they claim,
will hit the Russian minority particularly hard.[6]
In these exchanges of mutual recriminations the bone of contention, the
Russian diaspora itself, is caught in the middle. These people have unwittingly
become game pieces in a political chess game of influence and power in the
former Soviet Union. But the Russian minority communities are not necessarily
mute pawns to be kicked about willy-nilly. Many of them are well-educated
people quite capable of articulating their own desiderata and of fighting for their realization.
How, then, are the Russian minorities being treated in the
non-Russian Soviet successor states? Are they being defined as a part of the
new nation, or are they seen as alien elements? Have the state authorities in
the new non-Russian nation-states been willing to make any adjustments or
concessions in their policy towards the Russian diaspora? What are Russia's
interests and priorities on the diaspora issue? May the notion that these
people constitute a kind of Russian diaspora in itself complicate the national
consolidation of the neighboring countries? And finally: to what extent are the
local Russians themselves satisfied/dissatisfied with their new status as
national minorities in their respective countries of residence? Do they want to
be included in the ongoing nation-building projects, or would they prefer to
stay on the sidelines?
{A}Not one diaspora, but fourteen{/A}
The new Russian diaspora communities are far from homogeneous. Any talk
of “a” or “the” new Russian diaspora in the singular is
highly misleading. It would probably be more fruitful to see them as 14
different diasporas, each with their own peculiar characteristics. The
qualities of each community are influenced by many different factors, such as
their size (absolute, and relative to the total population in the state),
ethnic cohesion, social composition, cultural distinctiveness (the cultural
contrast to the dominant ethnic environment), the compactness of their
settlements, and rootedness in the area.[7]
For the sake of convenience, the homelands of the Russian diaspora
communities may be divided into five categories: the Slavic states, the
Baltics, Moldova, Transcaucasia, Southwestern Central Asia, and Northeastern
Central Asia (Kazakhstan–Kyrgyzstan). Some 12.5 million diaspora
Russians, or roughly half of the total, are living in the Slavic states of
Ukraine and Belarus (see Table 5.1). In this region the cultural distance
between the Russians and the titular nations is very short. With the partial
exception of Western Ukraine, hardly any Russians here have a feeling of living
in an alien cultural milieu at all.[8]
In such a situation, serious ethnic conflicts are not likely to arise.
Table 5.1 Russians In The Soviet Successor States, 1989
|
Republic |
In thousands |
In percentage of total pop. in rep. |
In percentage of non-titular pop. in rep. |
Percentage of Russians living in urban settlements |
|
Russia |
119866 |
81.5 |
– |
77 |
|
Estonia |
475 |
30.3 |
78.8 |
92 |
|
Latvia |
906 |
34.0 |
70.7 |
85 |
|
Lithuania |
344 |
9.4 |
45.8 |
90 |
|
Belarus |
1342 |
13.2 |
59.5 |
87 |
|
Moldova |
562 |
13.0 |
36.4 |
86 |
|
Ukraine |
11356 |
22.1 |
80.8 |
88 |
|
Georgia |
341 |
6.3 |
21.1 |
86 |
|
Armenia |
52 |
1.6 |
23.0 |
85 |
|
Azerbaijan |
392 |
5.6 |
32.2 |
95 |
|
Turkmenistan |
334 |
9.5 |
33.7 |
97 |
|
Tajikistan |
388 |
7.6 |
20.2 |
94 |
|
Uzbekistan |
1653 |
8.3 |
29.1 |
95 |
|
Kyrgyzstan |
917 |
21.5 |
45.1 |
70 |
|
Kazakhstan |
6228 |
37.8 |
62.6 |
77 |
Sources: Natsional’nyy
sostav naseleniya SSSR
(Moscow: Finansy i statistika, 1991); Yu.V. Arutyunyan, ed., Russkie.
Etnosotsiologicheskie ocherki
(Moscow: Nauka, 1992): 25.
In the Baltic states important parts of the indigenous population claim
that a yawning chasm separates their own culture from Russian culture, while
the Russians themselves more often underline the common elements of
European-ness, Christian faith, etc. which unite them.[9]
Since the incorporation of the Baltic states into the USSR during World War II
the influx of Russians and other Russophones to the area has been dramatically
steep. In the course of four decades, the share of the titular nation in the
total population dropped from 90 percent to 60 percent in Estonia and from 75
percent to 52 percent in Latvia. Many Balts feel that this demographic
development is undermining the very basis of their separate cultures, and are
determined to roll back Russian influence. The Russians, however, are already
so numerous and so entrenched in society that this is a formidable task which
can be accomplished only by exceptional measures, if at all. Only in Lithuania
is the share of the Russians so low (around 9 percent) that they are not
perceived as a serious challenge by the titular nation.
Moldova is one of very few former Soviet republics where
Russians do not constitute the largest ethnic minority. At approximately 13
percent of the population, they are slightly outnumbered by Ukrainians (14
percent). In many parts of the FSU the majority of the Ukrainians are so
linguistically and culturally Russified that it would make little sense to
treat them as a separate category. While this may be true to some extent in
Moldova as well, relatively many Ukrainians in this country have nevertheless
retained an identity of their own, by dint of their high numbers and the
proximity to the Ukrainian state.
In the secessionist Dniester republic in the eastern part
of Moldova the share of the ethnic Russians is larger than in the country as a
whole, 24 percent, but even here they constitute only the third largest ethnic
group, after the Moldovans (40 percent) and the Ukrainians (26 percent). It is
therefore highly misleading to speak about the Dniester population as
“the Russians.” And as a matter of fact, far more Russians in
Moldova live to the west of the Dniester than to the east--400,000 as against
160,000.
In Transcaucasia and the southern tier of Central Asia, Russian
demographic penetration has historically been weak. In the 1989 census the
Russian share of the total population in all of these republics was below 10
percent (in Armenia as low as 1.6 percent); since that time, Russian
communities in much of the region have been further depleted by out-migration.
The Russian populace has been almost exclusively clustered in the larger towns
and cities, particularly in the capitals, while the countryside has been
dominated by the locals. The cultural contrast between the Russians and the
indigenous population is significant.
In Kazakhstan and to some degree also in Kyrgyzstan the
ethno-demographic situation is rather different from other parts of Central
Asia. On the Kazakh steppe and in the Kyrgyz valleys, Russian peasants have
been tilling the soil for generations. These are the only republics where rural
dwellers make up substantial parts of the local Russian groups (23 percent and
30 percent, respectively). At the same time, the Russian presence in urban
areas is also very large. The one million Russophones in Kyrgyzstan make up 23
percent of the total population, while the 7.8 million Russophones in
Kazakhstan constitute 47 percent. The vast majority of Kazakhstani Russians
live in the northernmost parts of the country.
While there are large varieties among the various Russian diaspora communities there are
also of course significant differences within each group. As pointed out above, some members of
these communities have been living outside the ethnic Russian core area for
generations, whereas others are recent immigrants. These newcomers are
typically less able, or willing, to adapt to the alien ethnic environment.
Their command of the titular language is usually poorer. The language
proficiency among the Russian diasporians is also influenced by such factors as
the complexity of the various languages and the number of native speakers they
meet in daily life, but even more, it seems, by such intangibles as the
“prestige” the various languages carry.[10]
In the Soviet Union, European languages with long literary traditions obviously
had higher status than Asian languages with recently established literary
standards. Thus, for example, in the 1989 census 37 percent of Russians in
Lithuania said that they were fluent in Lithuanian, whereas only 2.3 percent of
Russians in Turkmenistan claimed fluency in Turkmen, even though the Russian
share of the total population in the two republics was the same (9.5 percent).
{B}Language, culture and education{/B}
All over the former Soviet Union, language disputes have been in the
forefront of the ethnic controversies. In 1988–1991 practically all
non-Russian Soviet successor states proclaimed the language of the titular
nationality as the official state language. Most of them also passed timetables
for the gradual expansion of the use of this language in official
administration and education at the expense of Russian. There are, however,
enormous differences in the vigor with which these language policies are being
pursued, and also as regards the consequences that implementation will have for
the Russian populace. In countries where the Russians constitute small
minorities, such as in Lithuania and Transcaucasia, the Russian language will
most likely not be able to hold its position under any circumstances. Here, the
Russians will inevitably have to learn the new state language, lest they should
be confined to a cultural ghetto. In Central Asia the situation is somewhat
different. Since the indigenous languages lack terminology for many modern
items and concepts, Russian is being employed in many capacities also by the
indigenous populations themselves. It has therefore been speculated that
Russian will be retained as a lingua franca, as has the erstwhile colonial language in many former
English and French colonies.[11]
In countries where the Russians comprise very large minorities the
Russian language may be able to hold the ground even if it is denied any
official status. It is being supported by Russian cultural facilities such as
television, radio, newspapers, etc., which are fully able to compete with the corresponding
media of the local cultures. In Moldova, Belarus, Ukraine and Kazakhstan, not
only Russians but also many members of the titular population often turn to
Russian-language media for information. (Almost the entire educated public in
the former Soviet Union is well versed in Russian.) The largest television
channel by far in the former Soviet Union is ORT (formerly
“Ostankino”) in Moscow, which continues to function as a
Russian-language CIS-wide network as it did in Soviet times.
In Latvia and Estonia, the Russophones are numerous enough to be able
to form self-contained Russian-language communities. It order to prevent this
from happening, the authorities in both countries have passed exacting language
laws.[12]
Non-speakers of the state language who fail to pass specified language tests
risk being fired from, or not being hired to, jobs for which they are otherwise
qualified.
In a few countries--in Kazakhstan, Moldova and Ukraine--Russian has
been granted an official status as “language of inter-ethnic
communication” in the constitution and/or in the language law. It is far
from clear, however what this actually implies in practical terms. Certainly,
whenever two persons of different nationalities meet on the street, they will
converse in the language which is most convenient to them, without regard for
legal regulations.
In most new states, the number of Russian-medium schools is steadily
decreasing. To some extent this is a natural process, reflecting the priorities
of the parents. In Soviet time many non-Russians sent their children to Russian
schools since fluency in that language opened the gates to a career in society.
In most of the new states this has changed, and today social advancement is
often linked to proficiency in the new state language. However, Russians
frequently complain that Russian-medium schools now have to run day-and-night
shifts with overfilled classes. To the degree that this is really the case,
Russian-medium schools are clearly being closed down faster than their pupils
are abandoning them.
In Ukraine and Lithuania the language laws stipulate that the language
of a minority group may be used in an official capacity in areas where the
minority is living in compact settlements. [13]
In Lithuania there are few compact Russian settlements, but in Ukraine the
Russophone regions to the east and to the south do in fact conduct almost all
official business in Russian.
{B}Citizenship and political
representation{/B}
In the new states in Eurasia, with two exceptions, the Russians and all
other ethnic minorities have been granted automatic citizenship rights. The
exceptions are Estonia and Latvia, which regard only citizens of interwar
Estonia/Latvia and their descendants as the original body politic. All other
permanent citizens must apply for citizenship on a par with recent immigrants,
and must fulfill relatively stringent criteria as regards residence,
proficiency in the state language, etc. The official reason for these decisions
is legal and constitutional: the Baltic states were occupied by the Soviet
Union in 1940; all those who have settled in the country since that time are in
principle illegal immigrants.
The legal aspects of these conflicts are highly complex. Many Western
experts and international lawyers point out that the Russians moved to the
Baltic states in good faith, not crossing any international borders, in search
of a livelihood.[14]
Nevertheless, the principles upon which the Latvian and Estonian citizenship
policy is based have largely been recognized by the international community,
although some international organizations and human rights NGOs have been
strongly critical of particular aspects.[15]
In any case, there can be no doubt that the underlying motivation behind the
inflexible Latvian and Estonian position on the citizenship issue is a
deep-felt concern about the countries' ethno-demographic make-up: the
citizenship laws are intended to safeguard the indigenous culture by
marginalizing the Russophones politically. And it seems to be working. In the
Estonian parliament which was elected in September 1992, 100 percent of the MPs
were ethnic Estonians.
While non-citizens in Estonia and Latvia are being denied basic
political rights, it is often pointed out that these countries adhere more
closely to international standards of human rights than do the authorities in
most other Soviet successor states. It is, however, very difficult to draw a
definite dividing line between political and human rights. In both Estonia and
Latvia, Russian non-citizens are certainly deprived of more than just the right
to vote or stand for election in national elections--for instance, they are
denied the right to hold certain positions and conduct certain kinds of
business.[16]
It is important to note that in some states where the Russians do enjoy
full voting rights they are not automatically guaranteed political
representation in proportion to their share of the total population. In many
new states, the titular nationality is to an increasing degree monopolizing
political positions and top administrative jobs. This tendency is most
pronounced in Central Asia and reflects the traditional clan structure of these
societies.[17] Access to
power is gained through tightly knit kinship networks from which Europeans are
excluded. These traditional network were not disrupted under the Soviet system:
on the contrary, in may places they thrived and blossomed. The Brezhnev regime
largely accepted that political power in the Asian republics remained
concentrated in the hands of the titular nationality, as long as the local
leadership did not challenge the power structures in Moscow.[18]
Obviously, if both cultural groups in a bicultural society vote more or
less en bloc for their own candidates, this voting pattern will secure a solid
overrepresentation of the largest group in all elected organs.[19]
Any such tendencies will be further reinforced by the introduction of a
majoritarian rather than a proportional system, as is the case in most former
Soviet republics. In addition, there are strong indications that correct
election procedures are frequently violated. The Kazakhstani electoral
commissions tend to strike from the local ballots any potential candidates who
represent the interests of the Slavic community, particularly if they lean
towards Russian nationalist positions.[20]
Elsewhere in Central Asia, as in Tajikistan, Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan,
political elections today are just as pro forma as they were in Soviet times.
On the basis of the citizenship laws alone it might seem that the
preconditions for political participation of the minorities should be better in
Central Asia than in the Baltics, but things may develop differently. Political
democracy in Estonia and Latvia is indeed limited to one part of population
only--the citizens--but within these narrow confines it functions more or less
in accordance with generally accepted norms. Requirements for naturalization
are stringent, but they nevertheless allow for the gradual inclusion of
non-citizens into the body politic over the next decades. Since the official
rules are being followed, the minorities have an incentive to make use of the
possibilities for political participation which are opened up to them. The
Estonian national elections in 1995 saw the number Russophone MPs increase from
zero to seven. As new generations of non-citizens become naturalized over the
next decades, this figure may continue to rise. In local elections in Estonia
(but not in Latvia) also permanent residents without citizenship are allowed to
vote. In the 1993 local Estonian elections, minorities turned up at the polls
in greater numbers than did the Estonians. In the 1998 Saeima the non-titulars
for the first time achieved a representation more or less in accordance with
the shares of the total population: 10 Russians, 4 Poles, 2 Jews, 1 Lithuanian,
1 Livian, and 1 Roma.
{B}Employment, Promotion And Economy{/B}
In most non-Russian Soviet successor states, Russians are
overrepresented in the intelligentsia, particularly in the technical
intelligentsia.[21]
They often occupy leading positions in the economy--not necessarily due to any
ethnically motivated recruitment policy in Soviet times, but by dint of their
high qualifications. In the cultural and political fields, however, Russians
were clearly underrepresented already in the Brezhnev era, and this tendency
has been further strengthened in recent years. In many new states, particularly
in Transcaucasia and Central Asia, Russians are gradually being squeezed out of
technical professions as well. The Russians seem to resent this kind of
discrimination more than political marginalization, as it hits them where it
hurts most--in professional opportunities, income levels, and standards of
living.
Also in the Baltics the “locals” are gradually monopolizing
entire sectors of the labor market, particularly jobs in the state bureaucracy.
In these countries, however, the effects of this tendency as concerns the
employment of Russians are to some extent being offset by the new opportunities
opening up in the private business sector. Indeed, the Russians are believed to
be in the forefront among the new entrepreneurs in the budding market economy,[22]
partly, perhaps, as a result of their marginalization in other fields.
On the other hand, Russians have also been greatly overrepresented in
heavy industry formerly controlled by the all-Union ministries. This industry
suffered a severe crunch when the economic ties among the Soviet republics were
broken. Typical recession areas are the heavily Russian-populated eastern part
of Estonia and the Russophone Donbass area in Ukraine. In these regions, ethnic
controversies have been strongly intertwined with the economic issue. However,
the economic misery of the local Russians should not necessarily be seen as a
result of any deliberate anti-Russian policy on the part of the state, but more
often as an unfortunate side-effect of its economic policy.
{B}Street-level discrimination{/B}
In many of the new states serious ethnic pogroms have been reported
over the last ten years. With one or two exceptions, however, the ethnic frenzy
has been directed not against the Russians, but against smaller underdog groups
without deep historical roots in the area--Armenians, Meskhetian Turks, etc.[23]
In Tajikistan and Azerbaijan, full-scale ethnic warfare has also broken out
within and among indigenous ethnic groups. While the Russians are not directly
involved in this violence, their houses and property have often been destroyed
by it, as well as their faith in the future. As a result, all over the Asian
parts of the former Soviet Union the Russian communities have been drastically
reduced of the last years through massive out-migration.[24]
Also when no blood is shed, many Russians fear the local mobs. While it
is difficult to assess the validity and gravity of the reported cases of
anti-Russian popular harassment, ethnic tension is clearly on the rise in many
places. In Kyrgyzstan the situation has been aggravated by the decision to
abolish the Soviet propiska system, which under Communism made it very difficult to change one's
place of residence without official permission. As a result of the new freedom,
thousands of jobless Kyrgyz youths have been descending on the capital--blaming
the Russians when, as often happens, they fail to find employment there as well.
{A}Russia’s Policy On The Diaspora
Issue{/A}
The 1993 Russian constitution gives all former Soviet citizens the
right to take up Russian citizenship even while they continue to live in one of
the other successor states.[25]
This right was originally set to expire on February 1, 1995, but has since been
extended several times. As of June 1993 approximately 1 percent of all diaspora
Russians--200,000--had procured Russian passports.[26] Latvia and (especially) Estonia have
disproportionately many citizens of Russia in their population--hardly
surprising, as it is so difficult for postwar immigrants to these countries to
acquire Estonian, or Latvian, citizenship. If the alternative is statelessness,
many local Russophones prefer Russian citizenship. As of March 1997 no less
than 120,000 Russians in Estonia--out of a total of half a million--had taken
up Russian citizenship.[27]
These people are entitled to vote in Russian elections and many of those who
have done so (actually not so many) have preferred anti-liberal parties. In
1993 a majority of them supported Vladimir Zhirinovskiy, while the Russian
Communist party was the preferred party of Russian citizens in Estonia and
Latvia in the Russian parliamentary election in December 1995.
By dint of their choice of citizenship these Russians are defined out
of the Estonian, respectively Latvian, nation-building project and are instead
included in the Russian one. Many Baltic politicians have indicated that this
is the best possible solution to a difficult problem: as these Russians hold
such extremist political views, it would have been impossible to integrate them
into the Estonian/Latvian nation in any case. However, it may be argued that
the causation here actually runs in the opposite direction: in many cases the Russians
in Estonia and Latvia may instead have been pushed into the embrace of Russian
imperialists and nationalists by the exclusivist tendency in Estonian and
Latvian nation-building. A Danish political scientist, Mette Skak, believes
that the Estonian and Latvian authorities, with their restrictive citizenship
policies, have been “shooting themselves in the foot.”[28]
The Russian Constitution proclaims that Russian citizens abroad are to
enjoy the protection and patronage of the Russian state.[29]
In reality, in its policy towards the new Russian diaspora the Russian
authorities make few distinctions between those Russians abroad who hold
Russian passports and those who do not. They believe that they have a
responsibility to offer protection to everyone who in some sense or another
feels attached to Russia through cultural identification, birth or ethnicity.
It has been extremely difficult, however, for these authorities to find
unambiguous and clear criteria by which to delimit the diaspora population.
This is reflected in a very vacillating terminology. Russian state authorities
try as much as possible to avoid the expression “Russian (russkaya) diaspora.” This term might easily be
regarded as an expression of Russian ethnocentric nationalism and as discrimination
against members of other ethnic groups in the FSU area whose “historical
homelands” today are a part of the Russian Federation, such as for
instance Tatars and Bashkirs.
At times Yeltsin and his staff have ended up with a hybrid expression:
“ethnic rossiyane,”
which literally would mean “ethnic citizens of Russia.” This term
includes both an ethnic and a territorial aspect. The most common word,
however, is “sootechestvenniki” –“compatriots” or
“fellow countrymen.” A law on “The state policy of the Russian
Federation with regard to sootechestvenniki. living abroad” includes in its definition of sootechestvenniki “all citizens of the U.S.S.R. who live in states
which at one time were part of the U.S.S.R., whether or not they have citizenship in this state or are
stateless persons.” The law
further includes all descendants of these former Soviet citizens, with the
exception of those who belong to
the titular nation in the state they are living.[30] This is a very broad definition indeed,
and is based on the idea that
Russia is the continuator state of the U.S.S.R. (see chapter 10).
Policy towards these “sootechestvenniki” soon after 1991 became an important
topic in Russian politics. [31]
Politicians on the extreme right and extreme left issued thinly veiled threats
to state leaders in the other Soviet successor states who dared to discriminate
against the Russian part of their populations. The right to decide what
amounted to discrimination they reserved for themselves. A special
organization, the Congress of Russian Communities (KRO), was established in
Moscow as a diaspora pressure group; it soon adopted a maximalist line.[32]
In the first few years after the dissolution of the Soviet Union, the
Russian Foreign Ministry was primarily interested in integrating Russia into
international and Western organizational structures. Relations with the other
former Soviet republics were relegated to the back burner. To the extent that
Russian authorities tried to influence the minority policy of the neighboring
countries they preferred to do so through the mediation of international
organizations such as the UN, OSCE or the Baltic Sea Council.
Even so, already in 1990–91 the Yeltsin Administration had taken
several important steps to ensure that the rights of the Russians in the former
Soviet republics would not be trampled upon, should the unitary Soviet state
disintegrate. In January 1991, while Soviet tanks were wreaking havoc in
Vilnius and Riga, President Yeltsin hastily convened a meeting with the
presidents of Latvia and Estonia in Tallinn, and signed bilateral agreements
with these two countries. This act demonstrated active and vital Russian
support to the Baltic independence struggle at a critical moment. These
agreements stipulated, inter alia, that the Baltic Russians should be allowed to choose
freely which state they wanted to be citizen of. Subsequent Estonian and
Latvian citizenship legislation has ignored if not the letter, then certainly
the spirit of these agreements, even though they were immediately ratified by
the Estonian and Latvian parliaments.[33]
The Estonian–Russian agreement was ratified by Russia in 1992 but the
Latvian–Russian agreement
never acquired legal force as it was not ratified by the Russian Supreme
Soviet.
Estonian and Latvian citizenship legislation was one important factor
which contributed to a hardening of the official Russian attitude on the
diaspora issue. Another was the Moldovan civil war in the summer of 1992 (see
chapter 7). By the autumn of 1992, Russia was increasingly seeking to influence
internal political developments in the so-called “near abroad”
through bilateral pressure.
Some elements of the hard-line rhetoric of Russian nationalists on the
issue were now adopted by more moderate politicians. In a much-publicized
memorandum authored by the deputy director of the Institute of Europe in the
Russian Academy of Sciences in 1992 suggested that Russia ought to make full
use of the circumstance that millions of Russians live on the territory of the
neighboring state in order to promote Russia’s interests vis-à-vis
these states.[34]
Several centrally placed politicians in the executive branch, among them
Presidential Advisor Sergey Stankevich and Vice President Aleksandr Rutskoy,
were regarded as “statists.” Stankevich openly accused the Foreign
Ministry of passivity and compliance on the diaspora issue.[35]
Foreign Minister Andrey Kozyrev was pressured to adopt an increasingly
menacing rhetoric. In a well-known statement in April 1995 he did not exclude
the possibility of using military force to protect Russians in the near abroad,[36]
a statement which was received with consternation in the neighboring countries.[37]
When Yevgeniy Primakov replaced Kozyrev as Foreign Minister in December 1995
this new assertive policy line was basically retained. However, the bellicosity
of Russian policy towards the former Soviet republics on issues related to the
diaspora has usually been restricted to the verbal level. Russia has no doubt
had the necessary means to exert much harsher pressure on its neighbors than
the country has in fact done. Several scholars regard moderation as a key
characteristic of Russian diaspora politics.[38]
Russian military units have indeed been actively involved in several
conflicts in the post-Soviet Eurasian space. Often this has been seen as
evidence of the destabilizing potential of the Russian diaspora issue in
Russian politics.[39]
However, most of these interventions have taken place in areas where relatively
few Russians are living, such as in Abkhazia and Tajikistan, and interests
other than diaspora protection seem to have been at stake for Russia, primarily
related to economy and state security.[40]
An important document, “The main directions of the state policy
of the Russian Federation towards compatriots living abroad,” was adopted
by the Russian government in August 1994.[41]
A priority objective of the Russian government, according to this document, is
to prevent a mass influx of compatriots from the near abroad to Russia since
this, it is believed, may have a disruptive effect on the Russian economy, as
well as being most painful to the migrants themselves. In order to achieve this
goal, Russia will do its utmost to promote the voluntary integration of these
compatriots into the political, social and economic life of the newly
independent states. Russians ought to adapt to the local culture while
retaining their specific cultural identity, the Russian government stated.
While this programme, one would assume, ought to be compatible with the
minority policy pursued by most Soviet successor states, the Russian
authorities apparently have doubts about the willingness of the other states to
work together towards this goal. The iron fist in the silk glove is revealed in
the following sentence: “Questions of financial, economic, social and
military-political cooperation between Russia and the individual states will be
linked to the concrete policy they pursue regarding the rights and interests of
Russians (rossiyane)
living on their territory.” However, the document goes on to assert that
harsh measures against delinquent states “will be executed only after a
serious situational analysis, taking into consideration the interests of the
people which they are intended to defend.”
There is indeed broad consensus among Russian politicians across
ideological dividing lines that Russia has a moral obligation and a political
right to protect all ethnic Russians and other Russophones in the near abroad
whenever their rights are violated. There is also a strong general feeling that
these rights are frequently not respected. Disagreements among various Russian
politicians primarily concern the means which could and should be employed.
Whereas liberals advocate diplomatic pressure and multilateral initiatives
coordinated through international organizations, hard-liners prefer direct
unilateral actions such as economic sanctions and military coercion.
There is a certain tension between means and aims in Russian diaspora
policy. The explicit readiness of the Russian state to stand as defender of the
Russophone minorities in the neighboring states may well complicate the desired
integration of these minorities into their new homelands. To the degree that
Russia is becoming involved in the domestic affairs of the former Soviet
republics, this involvement may--almost irrespective of motives and
causes--induce local Russians to direct their loyalty and identity not towards
their country of residence, but towards Russia.
{A}Reactions And Demands Of The Russian
Minorities{/A}
To the Russians in the former Soviet republics the break-up of the
unitary Soviet state entailed severe mental adjustments.[42]
From being members of a majority culture in a superpower, they were practically
overnight turned into national minorities in small nationalizing states. Those
who have reacted to their ordeals and discomfort by migrating to Russia leave
the arena of diaspora politics--and also the purview of this book. I will
instead focus on those who remain.
Far from all who stay behind have been actively fighting for their
group interests as Russians. Only a fraction have joined the various Russian
cultural centers, societies, organizations, political parties, etc., which have
sprung up after the fall of the Soviet Union.[43]
In part this may be seen as a legacy of the Soviet era. Under Communism the
Russians relied on the state structures to facilitate their social and cultural
needs, and most people took them for granted. To be sure, the services offered
by these structures were often very rudimentary, but independent social
initiatives from below were ruled out under any circumstances. This situation
certainly affected the attitudes of all ethnic groups in the Soviet Union, not
only the Russians; even so, it is striking to what degree Armenian, German,
Ukrainian, and other cultural centers got established long before the Russians
began to organize. It seems clear that groups accustomed to a minority status
have found it easier to adjust to the new political realities than the formerly
dominant nation.
Many Russians evidently also fear that political mobilization under
Russian banners may be counterproductive and trigger a backlash of aggressive
nationalism among the locals. This sentiment is particularly strong in
countries where the state authorities are seen as less nationalistic than the
indigenous political opposition. In almost all states in Central Asia and
Transcaucasia, a majority among the Russians regard the present regimes as a
bulwark against Islamism and nationalism, and seem to have no intention of doing
anything that could rock the boat of the often very authoritarian indigenous
leaders.
Furthermore, the politically and socially active part of the Russian
diaspora communities do not express identical demands. Very often, rival
organizations have sprung up which are bitterly divided on basic issues. The
major fault-lines here follow the same cleavages as Russian politics in Russia,
with Russian “democrats” pitted against Russian
“red-browns.” The anti-liberals in the new states often insist on
forming “pure” Russian organizations, excluding other Russophone
groups (such as for instance the Jews), while “democrats” are more
in favor of broad alliances, including even members of the titular nationality
who want to fight for human rights issues. Personal animosities among local
Russian leaders can also lead to organizational fragmentation.
{B}Restitution And Secession{/B}
The red-brown solution to the Russian diaspora problem is usually a
very simple one: life was much better in Soviet times, so the unitary state
should be restored. That is why Russian anti-democrats, in Russia and in the
other new states, often show scant enthusiasm for small incremental steps
towards the improvement of their lot. They reason, logically enough, that if
only the USSR could be re-established, there would no longer be any Russian
diaspora problem.[44]
As an alternative to, or a first step towards, wholesale restitution of
the USSR, the transfer of compact Russian territories to the Russian Federation
is sometimes suggested. Such demands have been set forth by certain (often very
small) groups in East Estonia, East Ukraine, North Kazakhstan, East Moldova and
Crimea. Separatism, it should be noted, is not the exclusive slogan of
reactionaries. In the Crimea the campaign for territorial transfer has been
supported by groups that would loathe being grouped together with Communists or
red-brown nationalists.
It goes without saying that restitution and separatism are anathema to
the state authorities in all of the new states. Attempts to press for such
demands are fraught with the threat of bloodshed and war, and could easily lead
to the same spiral of violence as has harried former Yugoslavia. Many if not
most of the other demands set forth by Russian activists in the Soviet successor
states, on the other hand, may find their solution within the framework of the
new state system. Roughly speaking, these demands may be divided into three
categories: “favoritism,” “non-favoritism” and
“bipolarism.” While the various demands listed below often
contradict each other, they do not necessarily amount to inner inconsistencies
in the political programmes of the Russian diaspora communities, since they
usually are set forth by different groups in different situations.
{B}Favoritism{/B}
Some of the demands of the Russian diasporians involve various special
rights in society. One such demand is territorial autonomy for certain
Russian-dominated areas. In post-Soviet political discourse this demand is
often--deliberately or unwittingly--confused with separatism; in principle,
however, this is a very different matter, as it does not challenge the
territorial and political integrity of the state.[45]
Such autonomy schemes range from administrative autonomy with greater control
of the local budget, via free economic zones, to political sovereignty within
the framework of a federated or confederate state.
Other pleas for special treatment have been directed not towards the
state authorities in the country of residence, but towards the Russian Federation.
Russia is exhorted to grant a kind of “most favored status” to
Russian businesses in the area, such as special customs tariffs on import and
export, so as to help the Russian communities survive economically.[46]
Any such positive discrimination of Russians in other states on the basis of
ethnicity might easily them more vulnerable to negative discrimination from the
side of the local population or state authorities, on the same basis.[47] While Russia has not adopted any
special trade regulations for the diaspora communities, the Law on soochestevenniki abroad does mention that the Russian Federation will
“encourage cooperation between Russian firms and firms in foreign firms
in which the majority of the employees are soochestevenniki. ”[48] Unless
such encouragement is followed up by any financial stimuli, however, it is
unlikely to have much effect.
{B}Non-favoritism{/B}
The most urgent and universal Russian appeal, however, is that no ethnic groups in the state should be given
any kind of favored or privileged position. In official documents and practical
politics, no distinctions should be made between the titular nationality and
other ethnic groups.[49]
All permanent residents, irrespective of ethnicity, should be recognized as
making up “the Nation.” For instance, when the Ukrainian law on
national minorities was under preparation in 1992, Russian activists insisted
that the very term “national minorities” was inapplicable and
harmful to Ukraine. All major ethnic groups in Ukraine should be considered as
indigenous. The law should therefore simply be called the “Law on the
peoples of Ukraine.”[50]
During the same year Russians in Kyrgyzstan fought fiercely to have a reference
to the ethnic Kyrgyz nation deleted from the preamble to the new constitution,
arguing that such a reference would hamper the consolidation of a unified
political nation, the People of Kyrgyzstan.[51]
While these particular campaigns in Ukraine and Kyrgyzstan were
unsuccessful, Ukraine nevertheless is one of the Soviet successor states where
the ideal of a non-ethnic, civic nation-state has dominated the nation-building
discourse. Developments in that direction may be registered elsewhere as well.
For instance, in Moldova an exclusive and ethnic concept of the nation was
discarded after the 1992 civil war, in an attempt to bring the Dniester
separatists back into the fold.
{B}Bipolarity{/B}
A fourth strand of Russian diaspora
thinking involves what we could call bipolar models. Here the starting-point is
that a number of the non-Russian Soviet successor states are, strictly
speaking, bi-cultural rather than multicultural. The overwhelming majority of
the population belong to one of two main linguistic cultures: the indigenous
culture, or the Russophone culture. The cultural situation in such countries
cannot be described as one big, indigenous monolith surrounded by a motley
mosaic of minority cultures, the Russians point out. One of these non-titular
cultures, the Russophone culture, is far more prominent than the others. If any
languages are to enjoy a special status in the state, such a treatment ought to
be accorded to both the titular language and to the most common non-titular
language, Russian.
Most activists of the indigenous ethnic groups usually reject out of
hand any demands for two official languages.[52]
They point out that it will deprive the Russians of any incentive to learn the
titular language, and will perpetuate the language situation that prevailed in
the Soviet Union. It is in fact probably utopian to expect full reciprocal
bilingualism, in which all members of society are fluent in both their mother
tongue and in the language of the other cultural group. In many areas, however,
the introduction of two state languages may lead to a situation in which most
people in each language group have a passive command of the other tongue.[53]
They are able to understand the language of their interlocutor even if they do
not speak it. Such passive bilingualism can be said to exist among the three
Scandinavian peoples, and mutatis mutandis could also probably function among the likewise
similar Russian, Ukrainian, and Belarusian languages in Ukraine and Belarus.[54]
In Kazakhstan, where the population is not only ethnically but also
geographically bifurcated, two state languages would in time probably lead to
two distinct cultural zones: everyone living in the South--whether Kazakh or
Russian--would have to know the Kazakh language, whereas all denizens of the
North would necessarily be fluent in Russian.
In some cases, demands for Russian as an official language are being
met. In an attempt to stem the out-migration of Russians from Kyrgyzstan,
president Askar Akayev in June 1994 announced that Russian was henceforth to
have the status of official language in regions predominantly populated by
Russian-speakers, as well as in “vital areas of the national
economy.” Following a referendum in Belarus in May 1995, Russian was
introduced in that country as a state language on a par with Belarusian. In
Estonia and Latvia, however, frequent amendments to the language laws tend to
place increasingly stringent demands on the Russian populace to learn the
titular language--fast and well.
In addition to two state languages, Russian diaspora activists also
often demand the right to obtain two citizenships: citizenship of the Russian
Federation and of the state of residence. Appeals for two state languages and
dual citizenship are often pronounced in the same breath as twin issues,[55]
but in reality they are qualitatively different. While the introduction of two
state languages does not necessarily jeopardize the consolidation of a unified
political nation, dual citizenship does. Dual citizenship may too easily imply
divided allegiances. If dual citizenship should be granted to hundreds of
thousands, perhaps millions, of Russians in the former Soviet republics, their
political loyalty in a crisis situation would surely be open to question.
What the introduction of dual citizenship would mean in legal or actual
terms is far from clear. Dozens of states in the world allow for dual
citizenship, but the various schemes are often very different from each other.[56]
The most liberal regimes will usually be found in states with a relatively
homogeneous population at home and a large number of “ethnic
brethren” abroad, as e.g. Hungary.[57]
Most countries in the former Soviet Union have flatly rejected dual
citizenship. A system of dual citizenship was, however, included in a bilateral
treaty concluded between Russia and Turkmenistan in 1993. The Turkmen president
Saparmurad Niyazov evidently believed that the (energy-based) economy of his
country was strong enough, the number of Russians in Turkmenistan so small, and
the distance to Russia so large that he would be able to withstand any Russian
attempts to use this clause to turn his country into a Russian protectorate.
According to many observers, Belarus and Tajikistan, on the other hand,
are already Russian protectorates to all intents and purposes. The present
leadership in these countries favors tight integration with Russia,
economically and otherwise, and would probably not have anything against a dual
citizenship arrangement. However, A Russian-Tajikistani treaty on dual
citizenship signed in 1995 was never ratified by the Russian Duma, and none of
the Russian–Belarusian agreements concluded since 1995 include any
practical provision for such a system. This may indicate that Russian
authorities are perhaps not quite as interested in a dual citizenship regime as
they profess to be.
Any agreement between two countries that gives to all citizens of both
countries unlimited right to obtain dual citizenship may have detrimental
economic and demographic consequences for the economically stronger country.
Russia will probably try to avoid an agreement that could give all citizens of
poor and war-torn Tajikistan an automatic right to move to Russia and search
for jobs there. In the British Commonwealth a very liberal regime for migration
between Commonwealth member countries led to a flooding of job-seeking
immigrants in the 1960s and 1970s. Primarily for that reason this regime was
scrapped in 1981.
A compromise solution on the dual citizenship issue which may possibly
set a precedent for other bilateral arrangements is found in the
Russian–Kazakhstani agreement concluded in January 1995. While not
allowing for dual citizenship, it guarantees almost automatic citizenship in
the new state of residence for persons moving from the one state to the other.
Similar simplified citizenship procedures also govern Kyrgyzstani–Russian
relations.
{A}The New Russian Diaspora Ð An
Identity Of Its Own?{/A}
The degree to which the post-Soviet Russian minorities will be
integrated in their new homelands is intimately linked to the question of what
kind of collective identity/ies they will develop. In recent years many
scholars have pointed out that the category “Russian” is very broad
indeed.[58]
The self-understanding the tsarist state was not based on cultural
Russian-ness; indeed, according to many knowledgeable observers, the
self-understanding of most Russians as well has historically been linked more
to territory and state than to culture and ethnicity. One of the reasons for
this is that pre-Revolutionary Russia never got a chance to develop into a
nation-state, but passed directly from being a patchwork of small
principalities in the 14th and 15th centuries, to becoming a multinational
empire from the 16th century onward. As this state continued to expand it
acquired more and more non-Russian subjects.
Historically speaking, the Russian nation has been very open to the
assimilation of non-Russians. As long as they adopted the Orthodox faith and
learnt the Russian language, members of other cultures were accepted as
“Russians” without any reservations. Only towards the end of the
19th century did this inclusive attitude begin to change. As competition for
prestigious jobs in the tsarist state apparatus and in commerce began to
increase, “genuine” Russians tried to define their rivals on the
job market out of the Nation. These were now branded as “aliens,”
as Germans, Jews, Tatars, etc.--anything but Russians.[59]
While the Russian nation has thus traditionally been poorly demarcated
vis-à-vis other ethnic groups, it is also characterized by rather strong
cultural variations within.[60]
Russians who live in the core area of Russian settlement--in Northwestern and
Central Russia--meet with mostly fellow Russians in their daily life. By
contrast, Russians in the outskirts of this area will much more often have
contact with members of other ethnic groups as well. There has been some
disagreement within the scholarly community as to the effects these contacts
have had on Russian mentality and self-understanding. Some believe that such
cross-cultural encounters have strengthened the ethnic identity of the
periphery Russians since identity, as a rule, is developed through a process of
contrast: “us” vs. “them.”[61]
Russians living in the periphery of the Russian lands inevitably realize that
their way of life is different from the lifestyle of other groups and will
consequently develop a high degree of consciousness about their own ethnicity.
Those Russians who are rarely exposed to other ethnic cultures, on the other
hand, will have scant need to emphasize, and also few opportunities to
discover, their “Russian-ness.”
To be sure, a Russian--like any other individual--may develop a
plethora of cultural identities besides the ethnic one. He may see himself as a
Slav, European, Orthodox Christian, or as a “Soviet man,” depending
on the context and the person in question. This individual may also be strongly
attached to a particular town, region or neighborhood. A common Russian word
for “home district” is “rodina,” a word which may also be translated as
“Motherland” or “the country in which I am born.”
Sometimes Russians will distinguish between the “Little rodina,” as a reference to the local or
regional attachment, and “Greater rodina,” meaning the country.
Many diaspora Russians readily acknowledge that, while they continue to
see themselves as distinctly Russian, their lifestyle and cultural preferences
have been strongly influenced by the titular ethnic group in the country where
they live. In countries where the cultural distance between the Russians and
the titular nation is very narrow, as in Slavic and/or Orthodox regions, strict
identity boundaries are difficult to maintain, whereas in areas where cultural
contrasts between the Russians and the locals are more marked, the identity
boundary will more easily be clearly demarcated. This is particularly true of
the Muslim countries in the former Soviet Union. In these countries we find
extremely few marriages among Russians and members of the titular population.
At the same time, in these bifurcated societies certain other
ethno-cultural processes may often be observed. Individuals belonging to
non-Russian minorities who live in the same areas as the diaspora Russians
often adopt a distinctly Russian lifestyle and are frequently seen--by
themselves and others--as a part of the “Russian” group. This is
true not only of kindred groups such as Ukrainians and Belarusians, but also of
many Germans, Poles, and Jews in the Soviet successor states. What pulls them
towards the Russians is, on the one hand, an awareness of being somehow
different from the country’s titular ethnic group, and, on the other
hand, an attachment to the Russian language and to “Soviet” values.
“Soviet values” is admittedly a vague term, and necessarily
so. Rather than involving adherence to Communist ideology, it is often linked
to a nostalgia for what is perceived as having been a predictable, stable
society. If the “New man” of Soviet propaganda ever existed, it was
among these Russophone groups in the non-Russian republics. Life in the
diaspora has functioned as a relentless melting pot in which particular ethnic
cultures to a large degree are erased. This does not, however, mean that the
non-Russians are absorbed into the Russian diaspora culture without leaving any
trace. They contribute their shares to a common, distinct Russophone diaspora
identity into which also the local Russians are socialized. These processes
increase the cultural distance between the Russians in Russia and their
co-ethnics in the other Soviet successor states.[62]
Quite a few of the Russians who have left Central Asia and
“returned” to Russia--“returned” must be written in
quotation marks since many of them had never actually lived in Russia
before--complain that the reception they been given by the local Russians has
been less than cordial. To their immense surprise they find themselves referred
to as “the Tajiks,” “the Uzbeks,” etc., as if they
belonged to the titular ethnic group in the country they just left. Put off by
such labels, some of them retaliate by telling their new neighbors that
Russians where they come from have a far higher ethical code than the Russians
in Russia: they drink less, don’t beat their wives, and keep their
marriage vows. It goes without saying that such altercations hardly contribute
to good-neighborly relations between newcomers and old-timers in Russia.
In some cases, Russian refugees from Central Asia have after a while
decided that they have had enough of life in Russia. In 1993 a spokesperson of
the Russians of Kyrgyzstan wrote: “Many have already returned, at a
considerable economic loss. It is indeed very difficult to adapt to new
circumstances when you have a radically different mentality. More often than
not those who think that they have arrived in their historical homeland, find
that they are regarded as aliens.”[63]
In 1996 and 1997 I coordinated a research team which conducted
large-scale surveys in Latvia and Kazakhstan.[64]
We tried to find out what kind of cultural and political identities the
Russians and other Russophone inhabitants in these two countries were
developing. Our assumption was that if these identities are strongly linked to
Russia, this will complicate their integration into their present country of
residence. Conversely, to the extent that their identities draw strength from
local sources, this will make it easier to include the Russians into the
ongoing nation-building of Latvia and Kazakhstan, respectively (provided, of
course, that this is what the political authorities in these two countries
actually wanted to achieve).
The answers we got indicated that no uniform identity has crystallized
among the Russophone in either country. We found that some Russophones are
primarily oriented towards Russia, both politically and culturally, while
others are more strongly attached to their present country of residence. In
Kazakhstan, approximately 40 percent of the Russians indicated
“Kazakhstan” as their homeland, while slightly more than a third
still felt primarily attached to the USSR. (See Table 5.2.) Only 10–13
percent of the Russophones regarded “Russia” as their homeland. The
latter, somewhat surprising, piece of evidence must be rather encouraging news
for the Kazakhstani nation-builders.
TABLE 5.2
Which country do you regard as your homeland? Kazakhstan,
percent
|
|
Russians |
Ukrainians |
Other European |
|
Kazakhstan |
39.9 |
27.7 |
32.3 |
|
USSR |
35.7 |
45.8 |
32.3 |
|
Kazakh SSR |
9.5 |
6.3 |
6.5 |
|
Russia |
13.0 |
6.3 |
9.7 |
|
Another country |
0.2 |
12.5 |
16.1 |
|
I have no homeland |
1.5 |
– |
– |
|
Don’t know |
0.2 |
2.1 |
3.2 |
|
N = |
409 |
48 |
31 |
As time goes by and the Soviet era recedes into the past, probably
fewer and fewer Russians in Kazakhstan will cling to the memory of the lost
Soviet state. They will then most likely select either “Russia” or
“Kazakhstan” as their new focus of country identification. Which of
these options will they choose? Politically, the allegiance of Russians in
Kazakhstan seems to have been moving away from this new state over the last
years. True, while 5 percent of them in our survey indicated that they had
earlier been opposed to the establishment of an independent Kazakhstani state
but were now in favor of it, as much as 12 percent confided that they had
previously supported Kazakhstani statehood, but had now turned against it.
TABLE 5.3. Which country do you regard as your homeland? Latvia, percent
|
|
Russians |
Ukrainians |
Belarusians |
|
USSR |
17.8 |
18.8 |
17.8 |
|
Latvian
SSR |
21.5 |
6.3 |
11.1 |
|
Latvia |
41.1 |
12.5 |
37.8 |
|
Russia |
11.4 |
6.3 |
2.2 |
|
Another
state |
1.0 |
50.0 |
17.8 |
|
I
have no homeland |
2.4 |
0.0 |
6.7 |
|
Don’t
know |
4.7 |
6.3 |
6.7 |
|
N
= |
297 |
16 |
43 |
In Latvia, considerably fewer Russophones in our survey clung to the
Soviet Union as the “homeland” compared to Kazakhstan: less than 20
percent. At the same time their support for the new nation-state was more or
less on the same level as in Kazakhstan: 40 percent, Once again we found that
identification with Russia was low.
Next we asked
our respondents whether they regarded the local Russians as being in any way
different from Russians in Russia. In Kazakhstan the answers were evenly
divided between “yes” and “no.” This was roughly true
of all ethnic groups--Russians, non-Russian Europeans, and Kazakhs. (See Table
5.4.) When asked to flesh out what this difference consists in, respondents
from all groups in Kazakhstan were inclined to invest the local Russians with
more positive character traits than they were willing to give Russians credit
for in general: The local Russians were regarded as more hospitable and
industrious, more cultured and tolerant than Russians in Russia itself.
TABLE 5.4 Do Russians in Kazakhstan differ from Russians in Russia?
|
|
Kazakhs |
Russians |
Ukrainian |
Germans |
Other Europeans |
|
yes, significantly |
31.6 |
27.9 |
22.9 |
29.3 |
32.3 |
|
yes, somewhat |
17.3 |
21.3 |
29.2 |
19.5 |
25.8 |
|
no different |
26.9 |
33.0 |
25.0 |
19.5 |
25.8 |
|
Don’t know |
24.2 |
17.8 |
22.9 |
31.7 |
16.1 |
|
N = |
376 |
409 |
48 |
41 |
31 |
In Latvia we found a much
stronger tendency to see the local Russians as different from the core group of
Russians than there was in Kazakhstan. Among all ethnic groups in Latvia,
between 65 percent and 75 percent answered this question in the affirmative.
(See Table 5.5.)
TABLE 5.5 Do
Russians in Latvia differ from Russians in Russia?--Ethnic breakdown, percent
|
|
Latvians |
Russians |
Lithuanians |
Ukrainians |
Belarusians |
|
significantly |
35.2 |
41.6 |
34.8 |
25.0 |
24.4 |
|
somewhat |
34.8 |
35.1 |
30.4 |
50.0 |
37.8 |
|
no |
8.7 |
11.1 |
4.3 |
25.0 |
22.2 |
|
Don't know |
21.3 |
12.2 |
30.4 |
0.0 |
15.6 |
|
N = |
549 |
296 |
23 |
16 |
45 |
When we proceeded to ask respondents in Latvia what exactly this
difference consisted in, we found much more disagreement than in Kazakhstan.
Russians in Latvia and Russians in Kazakhstan have very similar
self-perceptions: they all believe that they are a better lot than the Russians
in Russia. However, few ethnic Latvians would agree on this. On the contrary,
they gave Russians in Latvia a low score on “cultured” and a high
score on “being easily drawn into conflicts.” The results of our
surveys seemed to indicate that ethnic Kazakhs tend to welcome the local
Russians into a common nation-building endeavor, while the ethnic Latvians to a
much higher degree want to keep the Russians out.
***
During perestroyka
non-Russians in the republics time and again mobilized hundreds of thousands of
participants at demonstrations and other mass manifestations in the struggle
for independence. The diaspora Russians have never been able to match this high
level of activism--neither then, nor later. However, given the fact that these
communities possess well-educated elites, their political torpor will not
necessarily last. It is of crucial
importance that if and when the Russians in the near abroad shake off their
lethargy, their activity can get channeled into constructive nation-building in
their states of residence. And in order for this to happen, these Russians must
feel convinced that they too have a role to play in the new states.
[1] Robert A. Lewis, Richard H. Rowland and
Ralph Clem, Nationality and Population Change in Russia and the USSR (New York: Praeger, 1976): 202-214; Paul
Kolstoe, Russians in the Former Soviet Republics (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1995):
13–70.
[2] Chauncy D. Harris, “The New Russian Minorities: A Statistical
Overview,” Post-Soviet
Geography 34, 1, 1993.
[3] By “diaspora” in this context
is meant an ethnic group living outside the state which it regards, or is
regarded, as its historical homeland.
[4] For a general treatment of this
triangular relationship, see Rogers Brubaker, Nationalism Reframed.
Nationhood and the national question in the New Europe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1996): 55–78.
[5] See e.g. Andrew Maley, “Does Russia
speak for the Baltic Russians?,”
The World Today
51, 1, 1995.
[6] See e.g. a statement of Deputy Prime
Minister Aleksandr Shokhin in Izvestiya, November 16,
1993.
[7] For more details, see Kolstoe, Russians;
and Pål Kolstø, “The new Russian
diaspora - an identity of its own? Possible identity trajectories for Russians
in the former Soviet republics,”
Ethnic and Racial Studies 9, 3, 1996.
[8] Ian Bremmer, “The Politics of
Ethnicity: Russians in the New Ukraine,” Europe-Asia Studies 46, 2, 1994; Nadezhda Lebedeva, “Russkaya
diaspora ili chast' russkogo naroda? (K problematike samoopredelieniya russkikh
na Ukraine),” in V.I. Kozlov and E.A. Shervud (eds), Russkie v
blizhnem zarubezh'e, (Moscow:
Institut etnologii i antropologii, 1994).
[9] Anatol Lieven, The Baltic Revolution,
Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and the Path to Independence (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993):
175–80. A survey conducted in
1993 showed that perceptions and attitudes among the Russians and the titular
groups in the Baltic states were in fact surprisingly similar, indicating that
the culture gap is smaller than many Balts are inclined to believe. See Richard
Rose and William Maley, Nationalities in the Baltic States. A Survey Study (Glasgow: University of Strathclyde, 1994): esp. iv–v.
[10] Aadne Aasland, “Russians outside
Russia. The New Russian Diaspora,” in Graham Smith, ed., The
Nationalities question in the
post-Soviet States
(London: Longman, 1996): 483.
[11] William Fierman, “Problems of
language implementation in Uzbekistan,” Nationalities papers 23, 3, 1995: 591; author’s interviews in
Tashkent and Bishkek, May 1993.
[12] Martin Malek, “Sprachenpolitik im
Baltikum,” Osteuropa 44, 10, 1994; Angelita Kamenska, The
State Language in Latvia: Achievements, problems and prospects (Riga: Latvian Center for Human Rights
and Ethnic Studies, 1995).
[13] Lithuania: “Decree on
language,” adopted on January 25, 1989.
Ukraine:
“Zakon o yazykakh v Ukrainskoy SSR,” adopted on October 28,
1989. Vydomosti Verkhovnoy Radi Ukrainy, 1989, Law no. 631.
[14] Asbjørn Eide, Human Rights
Aspects of the Citizenship Issues in Estonia and Latvia (London: European Bank for Reconstruction
and Development, 1992); New Citizenship Laws in the Republics of the Former
Soviet Union, Helsinki Watch, New York, April 15,
1992.
[15] Violations by the Latvian Department
of Citizenship and Immigration Helsinki Watch 5, 19,
1993; Max van der Stoel,
“Letter from the OSCE High Commissioner fon National Minorities to V.
Birkavs, Minister of Foreign affairs of the Republic of Latvia,” October
28, 1996.
[16] Magda Opalski, Boris Tsilevich and Piotr
Dutkiewicz, Ethnic Conflict in the Baltic States: The Case of Latvia (Kingston, Ontario: the Kashtan Press,
1994).
[17] Res publica (Bishkek), May 15, 1993, 3; Anatoly M.
Khazanov, After the USSR. Ethnicity, Nationalism, and Politics in the
Commowealth of Independent States (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1995): 124ff.
[18] See e.g. Gerhard Simon, Nationalism
and Policy Towards the Nationalities in the Soviet Union (Boulder, CO: Westview, 1991); Victor
Zaslavsky, “Nationalism and Democratic Transition in Postcommunist
Societies,” Dædalus 121, 2, 1992.
[19] Donald L. Horowitz, Ethnic Groups in Conflict (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1985): 291–332.
[20] Robert J. Kaiser and
Jeff Chinn, “Russian-Kazakh Relations in Kazakhstan,” Post-Soviet
Geography 36, 5, 1995.
[21] Yu.V. Arutyunyan and L.M. Drobizheva, “Russkie v raspadayushchemsya
soyuze,” Otechestvennaya
istoriya, 3, 1992.
[22] Ilmars Mezs, Edmunds Bunkse, and Kaspars Rasa, “The
Ethno-Demographic Status of the Baltic States,” GeoJournal 33, 1, 1994: 21.
[23] Hélène Carrère
d’Encausse, The End of the Soviet Empire. The Triumph of the Nations (New York: BasicBooks, 1993).
[24] According to figures from the
International Organisation of Migration (IOM), upwards of 2 million Russians
left Central Asia between 1990 and 1997. See CIS Migration Report (1996) (Geneva: IOM International Organization
for Migration, 1997).
[25] “Zakon O grazhdanstve,” Vedomosti
s”ezda narodnykh
deputatov Rossiyskoy Federatsii i Verkhovnogo Soveta Rossiyskoy Federatsii, 6, 1992.
[26] Igor Zevelev, “Russia and the
Russian Diasporas,” Post-Soviet
Affairs 12, 3, 1996: 272.
[27] Vello Pettai, “Political Stability
Through Disenfrachisement,” Transition 3, 6 (April 4, 1997): 23.
[28] Mette Skak, “Ungarns and Ruslands
politik over for hhv. den ungarske and den russiske diaspora in
nabolandene,” in Jørgen Kühl, ed., Mindretalspolitik (København: Dansk Udenrigspolitisk Institut,
1996): 149.
[29] Konstitutsiya Rossiyskoy Federatsii, Moscow 1993, article 61, point. 2.
[30] Federal’nyy zakon o gosudarstvennoy politike Rossiyskoy Federatsii v otnoshenii sootechestvennikov za rubezhem, adopted on November 13, 1998.
[31] Kolstoe, Russians: 259-62.
[32] Krasnaya zvezda, October 16, 1992; “2nd World
Congress of Russian Communities: Declaration of compatriots' rights,” Survey
of Baltic and post-Soviet politics, Sakala centre, Tallinn, February 1994, pp. 18–22, article
7.
[33] Eide, Human Rights Aspects.
[34] S.A. Karaganov, “Problemy zashchity
interesov rossiysko orientirovannogo naseleniya v ‘blizhnem’
zarubezh’e,” in Diplomaticheskiy
vestnik 15, 11, 1992.
[35] Nezavisimaya gazeta, March 28, 1992.
[36] Delovoy mir, April 21, 1995.
[37] See e.g. Diena (Riga), May 18, 1995.
[38] Zevelev, “Russia and the Russian
Diasporas”; Neil J. Melvin,
“The Russians: Diaspora and the End of Empire,” in Charles King and
Neil J. Melvin, eds., Nations Abroad. Diaspora Politics and International
Relations in the Former Soviet Union (Boulder, CO: Westview, 1998): 41.
[39] Anthony Hyman, “Russians outside Russia,” The World
Today, 49, 1993.
[40] Pavel Baev, The Russian Army in a Time
of Troubles (London:
Sage, 1996): 39–40 and
104–112.
[41] “Osnovnye napravleniya
gosudarstvennoy politiki Rossiyskoy Federatsii v otnoshenii sootechestvennikov,
prozhivayushchikh za rubezhem,” Postanovlenie Pravitel’stva
Rossiyskoy Federatsii August 31,
1994, no. 1064.
[42] Nadezhda Lebedeva, Novaya russkaya diaspora, Sotsial’no-psikhologicheskiy
analiz (Moscow: Institut
etnologii i antropologii, 1995); David D. Laitin, Identity in Formation. The
Russian-Speaking Populations in the Near Abroad (Ithaca: Cornell University press, 1998).
[43] Natal’ya Kosmarskaya,
“’Ya nikuda ne khochu uyezzhat’.’ Zhizn' v
post-sovetskoy Kirgizii glazami russkikh,” Vestnik Yevrazii, 1-2 (4-5), 1998: 95-97.
[44] “Second world congress”: 19.
[45] Allen Buchanan, Secession. The
Morality of Political Divorce from Fort Sumter to Lithuania and Quebec (Boulder, CO: Westview, 1991):
18–22.
[46] Krasnaya zvezda, October 16, 1992; “Second World Congress” 1994.
[47] Rossiyskaya gazeta, May
27, 1995.
[48] Federal’nyy zakon.
[49] Author's inteviews in Moldova in 1992 and
in 1996, and in Kyrgyzstan in 1993.
[50] Vechernyaya Odessa, September 18, 1992.
[51] V.V. Vishnevskiy, President of the
Slavonic Foundation of Kyrgyzstan, in Chuyskie izvestiya (Bishkek), May 1–7, 1993: 5.
[52] See e.g. statements by the chairman of
the Ukrainian Parliament Committee on Questions of Culture and Religious
Affairs, Mykhailo Kosiv, in Holos Ukrainy, September 16, 1994, and the chairman of the Kazakh
language association “Kazak tili”, A. Kaydarov, in Kazakhstanskaya
pravda, October 15, 1992.
Kaidarov also wanted to have the reference to Russian as language of
inter-ethnic communication removed from the Kazakhstani constitution.
[53] Vladimir Alpatov, “Yazyki v
sovetskom i postsovetskom prostranstve,” Svobodnaya mysl’, 4, 1995. In Russia, on the other hand, the
Belarusian and Ukrainian minorities are already so linguistically Russified,
and the Russians so reluctant to study the languages of their neighbours, that
Russian will no doubt remain the sole language of communication.
[54] Dominique Arel, “Language politics
in Independent Ukraine: Towards One or Two State Languages?,” Nationalities Papers 23, 3, 1995: 603.
[55] See e.g. an appeal from the Slavonic
Foundation in Kyrgyzstan to the Kyrgyzstani president, in Slavyanskie vesti (Bishkek) 1992, 9, (May): 2. and
“Second World Congress” 1994.
[56]
I.P., Blishchenko, A.Kh. Abashidze and E.V. Martynenko, “Problemy
gosudarstvennoy politiki rossiyskoy federatsii v otnoshenii k
sootechestvennikam,” Gosudarstvo
i pravo 2, 1994.
[57] Inostranets, November 24, 1993; Khronid Lyubarskiy,
“Grazhdane i ‘sootechestvenniki’,” Novoe vremya, 5, 1993.
[58] Rogers Brubaker, “East European,
Soviet, and post-Soviet nationalisms: a framework for analysis,” Research on Democracy and Society,
1, 1993; Melvin, “The
Russians: Diaspora and the End of Empire.”
[59] Andreas Kappeler, Russland als
Vielvölkerreich
(Munich: Beck, 1992): 233–267.
[60] Yu.V. Arutyunyan, ed., Russkie.
Etnosotsiologicheskie ocherki (Moscow: Nauka, 1992); Valery Tishkov, “What is Rossia? Prospects
for Nation-Building,” Security
Dialogue 26, 1, 1995.
[61] See for instance the contributions of
William Boris Kory and Robert Lewis in Edward Allworth, ed., Ethnic Russia
in the USSR. The Dilemma of Dominance (New York: Pergamon, 1980). For a general theory of
ethnicity that emphasizes the importance of contrast, see e.g. Thomas Hylland Eriksen, Ethnicity &
Nationalism. Anthropological perspectives (London: Pluto press, 1993): 18–35.
[62] David D. Laitin, “Identity in
formation: the russian-speaking nationality in the post-Soviet
diaspora,” Archives
européennes de sociologie 36, 2, 1995.
[63] V. Uleev, “‘Slavyanskaya
diaspora’....,” Res
Publica (Bishkek), May
15, 1993.
[64] Pål Kolstø,
ed., Nation-building and ethnic integration in post-Soviet societies.
An investigation of Latvia and Kazakstan (Boulder, CO: Westview press, 1999).