The War That is Not - Part Two: Life Under the Z
Symbols and their terrifying power, to those who care to notice.
On the 24th of February, 2022, President of the Russian Federation Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin launched his invasion of Ukraine with the stated goals to “demilitarize” and “denazify” the country. During his televised address to Russian citizens on the morning of the 24th he claimed that, “a military presence in territories bordering on Russia, if we permit it to go ahead… [would create] an ever mounting and totally unacceptable threat for Russia.”
Additionally he noted, “leading NATO countries are supporting the far-right nationalists and neo-Nazis in Ukraine.” As such it was necessary to “bring to trial those who perpetrated numerous bloody crimes against civilians, including against citizens of the Russian Federation.”
Towards his concluding remarks, Putin reaffirmed that “we will achieve the goals we have set, and reliably guarantee the security of our Motherland.” Putin’s February 24th speech not only marked a new chapter in our century’s history, he shook European Security at its foundations, reminded us that war was not a fact of the past, and began the process to reshape Russian society.
It is that last point that will be of interest to many analysts of Russia in the years to come. Not only is what we are witnessing a perfect contemporary case study of how war changes society and a people’s collective memory, it is the first of a large scale hybrid war - a kind of conflict we may see more of in the years to come. But according to the Kremlin, what is happening in Ukraine is not a war. In Kremlinspeak it is a “special military operation”. A set of “fake news” laws were passed by Russian lawmakers punishing those who called war by its name and for denouncing it.
In my youth I was fascinated by the world the great George Orwell created in 1984. His work was never fantasy. The novel was published in 1949, at a time when totalitarianism still stood firm in the Soviet Union. I had imagined what it must have been like to be a citizen of Oceania, to fear and love Big Brother, to embrace the Party, participate in the Two-Minutes Hate, and to say to my friend - when asked how my day was - “doubleplusgood!”. My days became more challenging to comprehend: Was I living in a world of fact or literary fiction?
I walked past the towering spire of Russia’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs. It was March. The wind was cooling but at times biting. A lone protestor holds a placard denouncing the actions of her country. I looked at her, wishing I could tell her to be careful, but it would not have been safe. I turn back the same way after lunch with a friend. The lone protestor was gone. I will never know of her fate.
Power in Symbols
Slowly and silently a wave of disbelief, uncertainty, and jingoism shrouded Russian society. Souvenir shops down on old Arbat street that used to beckon unaware tourists now displayed t-shirts with the pro-war “Z” and “V” symbols. Down New Arbat, the former building of the Soviet-led “Council for Mutual Economic Assistance”, that now houses the government of Moscow, at night displayed in a coordinated manner the shining Z with office floor lights. Zealous Russians would display their allegiance with patches on their arm “Za Победу!” (For Victory!).
The origins of the pro-war symbols can be traced back to the insignia of Russia’s military vehicles that were taking part in the first wave of the invasion. It is believed that Z labeled vehicles were part of the campaign’s western (Zapad) theater and those labeled V were of the eastern (Vostok) theater. The symbols quickly became adopted and propagated by the Kremlin.
Former Prosecutor General of Crimea Natalia Poklonskaya, who became internet famous in 2014 and was instrumental in the independence and subsequent Russian annexation of the peninsula, criticized the usage of the symbol. “It is dangerous to blindly worship any symbols - history does not like that,” she warned before largely disappearing from the public eye.
Yet, for the majority of Russians, particularly in Moscow, the symbol was merely a symbol of the times. For them, there were more pressing issues at hand. Long lines formed before ATMs and foreign exchange kiosks. People were selling the ruble as fast as they could as inflation hit its highest at 17.8% in April. Though, the Kremlin swiftly responded with capital controls by limiting ATM withdrawals and outright banning the sale of foreign currency.
A highly interventionist decree signed by Putin a few days after the invasion mandated Russian companies to convert 80% of their foreign proceeds into rubles (this was later lowered to 50%). The Kremlin also demanded “unfriendly” countries to pay for Russian gas in rubles. Despite their initial rejection, a number of European entities arranged “new payment procedures”. The wave of sanctions that Western states levied on Russia seemed to have little impact as the ruble bounced back in the summer of 2022 returning to exchange rates not reached since 2015.
Russia’s show of defiance and strength eventually faded. It is difficult to deny that the Kremlin had hoped to achieve its objectives in Ukraine as quickly as possible in order to lessen the damage that would follow. Believing their own claims and propaganda, the Kremlin had thought that the Ukrainians would welcome Russia as “liberators” from fascism, this, unfortunately, was not the case.
Russia’s advance has notably stalled with Russia officially claiming it had lost 498 troops by the end of the first week of the operation. By December, 10 months into the war, a BBC report based on open source intelligence verified the deaths of 10,000 Russian troops.
Notably, on April 14, the Russian cruiser Moskva sank to the bottom of the Black Sea. Accounts vary as to the cause of its demise, Ukraine claims that its anti-ship missile had hit the vessel while Russia claims that it was an internal explosion on the ship. Regardless of the cause, the loss of the Moskva is significant. Not only is its name symbolic, the Moskva was Russia’s only warship in the Black Sea Fleet with the S-300F air defense missile system. These are significant losses for a government that had hoped to achieve a blitzkrieg, rather, the war has become a langsamkrieg - a slow war.
“Away with the old foundations, we will build a new world!”
The war has provided a golden opportunity for the State to ideologize current events and make attempts to renew the Russian national identity. One event illustrates this perfectly. At a funeral of a young soldier who perished on the battlefield the presiding priest declared that the soldier was “a warrior of Christ… He fought against evil, Satanic spirits: Ukrainians Nazis, created by American multinational corporations.”
How does one explain the eclecticism of such a statement? Such rhetoric only demonstrates an increased nationalist mythologization of the war for the purposes of bolstering, or even renewing, Russian nationalism.
The war has gone beyond Russian security concerns, it is about defending Christianity, finishing up the work of the veterans of the Great Patriotic War, and fighting Liberal Globalization. And the longer that the war lasts, the answer will not be in Russian mistakes or failures, but in willing together explanations that this is a spiritual crusade where abstract ideas are primary and security objectives are secondary.
Recall that three days after the invasion, Putin ordered a “special mode of combat duty in the strategic deterrence forces”, never in the 21st Century have we come this close to nuclear war. One perspective is that Putin was motivated to take such a decision not just to pressure his adversaries but to up the ante and bolster his self-perception as a messianic figure able to bring about the Biblical “end times”. The “Pandora’s Box” of nationalism was opened and all the deadly passionate forces that come from it were unleashed. Nothing will stop these forces from taking the State hostage. And although these forces are gathering, most people choose not to look, not because they do not care, not because they are ignorant, but because they know there is nothing they can do.
The Tale of Two Russias
On September 9 Muscovites marked the 875th founding anniversary of the capital city. From Red Square down Tverskaya and throughout the center of the city, the atmosphere of celebration was in the air. In Ukraine, Russia was losing its territorial gains over the past months to Ukraine’s swift counter offensive. For Yuri Podolyaka, a pro-war commentator, this contrast in realities is dangerous.
“Today there are two Russias,” wrote Podolyaka in his Telegram channel of 2.3 million subscribers. “One is fighting for the right to live, the second is living like nothing is happening and even celebrating marking Moscow’s anniversary with fireworks while Izium was abandoned.”
The Kremlin is motivated to keep the homefront in check as calling for greater sacrifices from the people might lead to instability. A general mobilization has yet to be declared and neither has there been a push for a “war economy” despite Russia’s need to purchase ammunition from North Korea to supplement shortages.
“In the highest ranks of the leadership of Russia there is no complete understanding and acceptance of the fact that there is a war going on.” Podolyaka criticized. “It is time to get rid of the abbreviation SMO [“Special Military Operation”]. If this is a war for the right of the country’s existence, then it should be called according.”
Putin heard the calls of many disgruntled nationalists. He ordered the initiation of a “partial” mobilization and moved the annex territories of Ukraine. According to the Kremlin, all was going to plan.
Special thanks to JK and KS for their editorial advice.
Part One of “The War That is Not” can be read here.