n July 2021, less than a year before he embarked on an expanded invasion of Ukraine, Russian president, Vladimir Putin published an essay on the historical relationship between the two countries. For some, the essay revealed his imperial ambitions; for others it showed a tenuous-at-best grip of history. It also illustrated to the West how the Kremlin used history and its interpretation to advance the justification for its policies and ambitions. The essay was one data point among many that showed how the Kremlin weaponizes the past to pursue its hegemonic ambitions of returning Ukraine to its sphere of influence.
Dr. Jade McGlynn explores how the Kremlin uses and misuses Russia’s history to justify its policies, distract its population, and create a common sense of purpose in her new book “Memory Makers,” a copy of which was kindly provided by the publisher for review. It is a deeply interesting book that goes beyond superficial analysis of falsehoods of Russian propaganda. Dr. McGlynn goes deeper, exploring the origins of the Kremlin’s historical interpretation, how it uses it for its own ends, and what the future could look like. There is some irony that Putin would agree with the American author James Baldwin, who said “History, as nearly no one seems to know, is not merely something to be read. And it does not refer merely, or even principally, to the past.”
For Russia, historical interpretation is not merely an abstract consideration. Instead, for Russia historical interpretation is a core national security issue. Its 2021 national security strategy, as others have noted, included sections on culture, values, and historical memory. The Kremlin writes that “The protection of traditional Russian spiritual and moral values, culture and historical memory is ensured by solving the… protection of historical truth, preservation of historical memory, continuity in the development of the Russian state and its historical unity, counteraction to the falsification of history.”
While the American National Security Strategy and British Integrated Review Refresh certainly use values to inform policy, historical debates certainly are not raised to the level of clear and present dangers. It is a largely alien concept to Western audiences. The burdens of historical memory do affect discussions and discourses, increasingly so amongst populist demagogue politicians, but it remains on the fringes. For Russia, however, as McGlynn shows, historical memory is central to the Kremlin’s rule and to particular positionings of the identity of what is “Russia.”
As McGlynn explains, “the government’s intensive uses of history are aimed at creating a narrative that distracts from government failings, promotes government politics and reinforces the Kremlin’s view of current events.” Thus, McGlynn writes, this history is for the sake of politics alone, “which is why it is important to look beyond what is being remembered (or ignored) and to focus on why and how the remembering is taking place.”
The vision the Kremlin presents is rearward looking—there is no narrative of the future beyond the pursuit of the aspirational values of Russia’s greatest generation: “In place of ambitious plans or hopes for the future, there is, once again, this sense of nostalgic anticipation: looking forward to the future only for its similarities to the past,” writes McGlynn. If it has any forward-looking element, it is about “Making Russia Great Again”, to borrow a turn of phrase from President Donald Trump—who, like many of his Republican counterparts, were enamored with the façade of Russian patriotism and martial values.
McGlynn captures this clearly, writing “the purpose of historical framing was to make history relevant to many people, to use it to ‘sell’ government policies and to inculcate a sanitized view of history that provided a convenient context for the present, one that reinforced core Kremlin beliefs….”
McGlynn cautions that “[t]here is little point in trying to discern a coherent ideology that will explain the Kremlin’s actions or interpretations; what you can find instead is an appeal to a unifying idea (a call to history) and an aspirational one (cultural consciousness), which endow Russia with purpose.” It is striking how fluid the Kremlin’s interpretation of history is, finding reference points to support its narrative throughout the country’s past. Today’s Kremlin finds evidence of Russian greatness everywhere from the pre-revolution Tsar through the Cold War era.
It is as much about creating an “us versus them” as it is about generating a sense of Russian greatness. McGlynn writes, “By using the past failures and crimes of others to minimize difficult areas of Russia’s past, pro-Kremlin figures whitewash Russian history to afford the nation a sense of moral authority.” It is a powerful tool with which to mobilize the population—they may not support the Kremlin in and of itself, but they likely support it more in the presence of a clear threat—a sort of Russian autocratic populism. “The personalization of history encourages audiences to take sides between two clear binary opposites: the villains of today (merged with past incarnations) and heroic contemporaries merged with one’s own forefathers and past legends,” McGlynn writes.
How Russia achieves this historical sanitization and unitary interpretation is both overt and driven from the top-down, but also insidious, the result of an environment of self-censorship that emerges from the bottom-up. Legislation like the “foreign agents” law, and vocal and purposeful misinterpretation of history by and through popular media, are merely the tip of the iceberg. The battles are not fought alone here.
The creation of “official” Russian history and Russian military history societies (and the Kremlin’s cooptation or outright takeover of existing groups) backed by the government established greater Kremlin control over historical truth, crowding out any contrarian or alternative interpretations. Here, McGlynn provides a theoretical construct for what Ian Garner recounts in his book “Z Generation”—how the Kremlin is coopting history and the youth through engagement with the past. “To realize the unifying potential of history, the government also needs it encourage people to take an interest in the historical narrative, to imbibe it, event to practice. In other words, they need to bring history back to life,” writes McGlynn. Through traveling historical roadshows, temporary and permanent exhibits, and both youth and adult organizations, the Kremlin seeks to drive the Russian people’s engagement with its interpretation of Russian history.
These official efforts have a chilling effect over society and academia. As departments and professors’ sense which way the wind is blowing, they curtail their own research, silence would-be rabble rousers, and help achieve the government’s aims even without being told to do so. Joshua Yaffa recounts the challenges of navigating such a system in his book “Between Two Fires”. It is a powerful account of how individuals make small, gradual concessions in their own interest, but which ultimately achieve the government’s end goal of both mobilization and constraint. The allure of a job within the official media apparatus or the potential for government research funding are enough to cool any interrogation of the government’s message or selective reinterpretation of the historical narrative the Kremlin displays.
“Memory Makers” is a superb standalone book, but one that is even more informative when read in parallel with McGlynn’s “Russia’s War”. In this book, McGlynn shows how the war against Ukraine is not just Putin’s war but is definitively that of Russia as well. Through deft manipulation by the Kremlin, which exploits existing worldviews, and by the power of national solidarity in a war, the conflict has far more enduring support than many in the West would recognize or expect. This power should not be underestimated, especially as it dramatically twists what is clearly—to outside observers—a stalled war that has cost Russia an estimated 300,000 casualties (as of August 2023) including 120,000 killed in action.
McGlynn’s analysis is presented largely dispassionately. She is someone who admires and respects Russian culture and art, but rightly condemns the behaviors of the regime both at home and especially in Ukraine. “Memory Makers” is a timely book and one that helps frame the challenge the United States and its European allies face in dealing with Russia. Moscow’s subjective interpretation of the past and weaponization of its truth for the future mean that finding common ground is challenging at the best of times.
The uncomfortable truth is that Russia’s view of its own history informs the policies of the present and goals for the future. There is no sense in fighting Moscow’s interpretation of history—it is futile. It is, however, necessary to understand this fact when approaching relations with Russia, especially in the present conflict with Moscow. This does not mean accepting it as fact, rather it is to take a more informed and nuanced understanding into engagement with the Kremlin and to recognize that not everyone shares the West’s view of the past.
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The Kremlin’s Manipulation of Russia’s Past to Shape the Country’s Future
Photo by Serhii Tyaglovsky on Unsplash
November 4, 2023
For Russia, historical interpretation is not merely an abstract consideration. In her latest book, Dr. Jade McGlynn explores the origins of the Kremlin’s historical interpretation, how it uses it for its own ends, and what the future could look like, writes Joshua Huminski.
I
n July 2021, less than a year before he embarked on an expanded invasion of Ukraine, Russian president, Vladimir Putin published an essay on the historical relationship between the two countries. For some, the essay revealed his imperial ambitions; for others it showed a tenuous-at-best grip of history. It also illustrated to the West how the Kremlin used history and its interpretation to advance the justification for its policies and ambitions. The essay was one data point among many that showed how the Kremlin weaponizes the past to pursue its hegemonic ambitions of returning Ukraine to its sphere of influence.
Dr. Jade McGlynn explores how the Kremlin uses and misuses Russia’s history to justify its policies, distract its population, and create a common sense of purpose in her new book “Memory Makers,” a copy of which was kindly provided by the publisher for review. It is a deeply interesting book that goes beyond superficial analysis of falsehoods of Russian propaganda. Dr. McGlynn goes deeper, exploring the origins of the Kremlin’s historical interpretation, how it uses it for its own ends, and what the future could look like. There is some irony that Putin would agree with the American author James Baldwin, who said “History, as nearly no one seems to know, is not merely something to be read. And it does not refer merely, or even principally, to the past.”
For Russia, historical interpretation is not merely an abstract consideration. Instead, for Russia historical interpretation is a core national security issue. Its 2021 national security strategy, as others have noted, included sections on culture, values, and historical memory. The Kremlin writes that “The protection of traditional Russian spiritual and moral values, culture and historical memory is ensured by solving the… protection of historical truth, preservation of historical memory, continuity in the development of the Russian state and its historical unity, counteraction to the falsification of history.”
While the American National Security Strategy and British Integrated Review Refresh certainly use values to inform policy, historical debates certainly are not raised to the level of clear and present dangers. It is a largely alien concept to Western audiences. The burdens of historical memory do affect discussions and discourses, increasingly so amongst populist demagogue politicians, but it remains on the fringes. For Russia, however, as McGlynn shows, historical memory is central to the Kremlin’s rule and to particular positionings of the identity of what is “Russia.”
As McGlynn explains, “the government’s intensive uses of history are aimed at creating a narrative that distracts from government failings, promotes government politics and reinforces the Kremlin’s view of current events.” Thus, McGlynn writes, this history is for the sake of politics alone, “which is why it is important to look beyond what is being remembered (or ignored) and to focus on why and how the remembering is taking place.”
The vision the Kremlin presents is rearward looking—there is no narrative of the future beyond the pursuit of the aspirational values of Russia’s greatest generation: “In place of ambitious plans or hopes for the future, there is, once again, this sense of nostalgic anticipation: looking forward to the future only for its similarities to the past,” writes McGlynn. If it has any forward-looking element, it is about “Making Russia Great Again”, to borrow a turn of phrase from President Donald Trump—who, like many of his Republican counterparts, were enamored with the façade of Russian patriotism and martial values.
McGlynn captures this clearly, writing “the purpose of historical framing was to make history relevant to many people, to use it to ‘sell’ government policies and to inculcate a sanitized view of history that provided a convenient context for the present, one that reinforced core Kremlin beliefs….”
McGlynn cautions that “[t]here is little point in trying to discern a coherent ideology that will explain the Kremlin’s actions or interpretations; what you can find instead is an appeal to a unifying idea (a call to history) and an aspirational one (cultural consciousness), which endow Russia with purpose.” It is striking how fluid the Kremlin’s interpretation of history is, finding reference points to support its narrative throughout the country’s past. Today’s Kremlin finds evidence of Russian greatness everywhere from the pre-revolution Tsar through the Cold War era.
It is as much about creating an “us versus them” as it is about generating a sense of Russian greatness. McGlynn writes, “By using the past failures and crimes of others to minimize difficult areas of Russia’s past, pro-Kremlin figures whitewash Russian history to afford the nation a sense of moral authority.” It is a powerful tool with which to mobilize the population—they may not support the Kremlin in and of itself, but they likely support it more in the presence of a clear threat—a sort of Russian autocratic populism. “The personalization of history encourages audiences to take sides between two clear binary opposites: the villains of today (merged with past incarnations) and heroic contemporaries merged with one’s own forefathers and past legends,” McGlynn writes.
How Russia achieves this historical sanitization and unitary interpretation is both overt and driven from the top-down, but also insidious, the result of an environment of self-censorship that emerges from the bottom-up. Legislation like the “foreign agents” law, and vocal and purposeful misinterpretation of history by and through popular media, are merely the tip of the iceberg. The battles are not fought alone here.
The creation of “official” Russian history and Russian military history societies (and the Kremlin’s cooptation or outright takeover of existing groups) backed by the government established greater Kremlin control over historical truth, crowding out any contrarian or alternative interpretations. Here, McGlynn provides a theoretical construct for what Ian Garner recounts in his book “Z Generation”—how the Kremlin is coopting history and the youth through engagement with the past. “To realize the unifying potential of history, the government also needs it encourage people to take an interest in the historical narrative, to imbibe it, event to practice. In other words, they need to bring history back to life,” writes McGlynn. Through traveling historical roadshows, temporary and permanent exhibits, and both youth and adult organizations, the Kremlin seeks to drive the Russian people’s engagement with its interpretation of Russian history.
These official efforts have a chilling effect over society and academia. As departments and professors’ sense which way the wind is blowing, they curtail their own research, silence would-be rabble rousers, and help achieve the government’s aims even without being told to do so. Joshua Yaffa recounts the challenges of navigating such a system in his book “Between Two Fires”. It is a powerful account of how individuals make small, gradual concessions in their own interest, but which ultimately achieve the government’s end goal of both mobilization and constraint. The allure of a job within the official media apparatus or the potential for government research funding are enough to cool any interrogation of the government’s message or selective reinterpretation of the historical narrative the Kremlin displays.
“Memory Makers” is a superb standalone book, but one that is even more informative when read in parallel with McGlynn’s “Russia’s War”. In this book, McGlynn shows how the war against Ukraine is not just Putin’s war but is definitively that of Russia as well. Through deft manipulation by the Kremlin, which exploits existing worldviews, and by the power of national solidarity in a war, the conflict has far more enduring support than many in the West would recognize or expect. This power should not be underestimated, especially as it dramatically twists what is clearly—to outside observers—a stalled war that has cost Russia an estimated 300,000 casualties (as of August 2023) including 120,000 killed in action.
McGlynn’s analysis is presented largely dispassionately. She is someone who admires and respects Russian culture and art, but rightly condemns the behaviors of the regime both at home and especially in Ukraine. “Memory Makers” is a timely book and one that helps frame the challenge the United States and its European allies face in dealing with Russia. Moscow’s subjective interpretation of the past and weaponization of its truth for the future mean that finding common ground is challenging at the best of times.
The uncomfortable truth is that Russia’s view of its own history informs the policies of the present and goals for the future. There is no sense in fighting Moscow’s interpretation of history—it is futile. It is, however, necessary to understand this fact when approaching relations with Russia, especially in the present conflict with Moscow. This does not mean accepting it as fact, rather it is to take a more informed and nuanced understanding into engagement with the Kremlin and to recognize that not everyone shares the West’s view of the past.
