Russia’s 'New Conservatism' is a Pseudo-Conservatism
by Alexey Zhavoronkov
The “conservative approach is not about an ignorant traditionalism, a fear of change or a restraining game, much less about withdrawing into our own shell. It is primarily about reliance on a time-tested tradition, the preservation and growth of the population, a realistic assessment of oneself and others, a precise alignment of priorities, a correlation of necessity and possibility, a prudent formulation of goals, and a fundamental rejection of extremism as a method. And frankly, in the impending period of global reconstruction […], moderate conservatism is the most reasonable line of conduct, as far as I see it.” This is, in a nutshell, Vladimir Putin's core definition of his own conservative approach, as laid out during his Valdai speech on October 21 2021, just a few months before the beginning of the Russian invasion of Ukraine.
Considering the gigantic gap between such statements and the political practice which is plain for the world to see, it would be reasonable to ask ourselves if and, given a positive answer, to what extent it still makes sense to insist that contemporary Russian politics represents a conservative strategy. My answer to this question is a definitive ‘no’. In what follows, I will show for what reasons I consider the theory of new Russian conservatism dangerously misleading. I will also explain why, in my opinion, we need the notion of ‘pseudo-conservatism’ to describe the new phenomenon of conservative mimicry of politics, which does not limit itself to Russia or Eastern Europe.
1. The Myth of the ‘New Conservatism’
In political philosophy and political theory of the last decade, there is no shortage of papers and monographs claiming that conservatism has become one of the pillars of Putin’s regime. Some scholars (like Brian Taylor) are more or less cautious in using the term, rightly stating that it would be more appropriate to speak of anti-liberalism instead of conservatism. However, most of them continue to use the notion despite all reservations. Others are more openly and resolutely instrumentalising it while claiming that the ‘new conservatism’ in Russia has a specific set of characteristics quite different from the ones of ‘traditional’ conservatism. This is the case for the sociologist Katharina Bluhm, one of the most well-known supporters of the theory of the Russian ‘new conservatism’. In the introduction to the volume of collected papers “New Conservatives in Russia and Eastern Europe” (2019), edited together with Mihai Varga, Bluhm argues that the term ‘conservatism’, which she claims to have borrowed from Karl Mannheim and Michael Freeden, is used by her as an “analytical tool”, referring to “self-descriptions of promoters of the new conservatism.” According to her, these promoters are primarily the radicalised Izborsk club and the more ‘moderate’ group of thinkers around the Foundation – Institute for Socioeconomic and Political Research (ISEPR), as the two ‘hubs’ of renewed Russian conservatism after 2012 (Bluhm 2019, 25 ff.). Following Freeden, Bluhm defines modern conservatism as a concept that is “not about a return to a romantic-transfigured place we long for, or the preservation of a status quo, but about an organic, or natural, and controlled change that does not jeopardise order and respects tradition” (ibid., 36). Since this notion is applied to Russian conservatism, we can conclude that the ‘new’ Russian conservatism should not aim to restore a dead tradition of the past but slowly adapt to new circumstances without harming the existing cultural tradition. Although Bluhm does specify that the ruling elite is not always “ready to implement” all of the proposed conservative changes while also agreeing that the Russian ‘new conservatism’ has certain features of a cynical façade, she concludes that conservatism is a new meta-frame which implies severe changes in “ideology and knowledge production.”
The example of Bluhm’s approach is just one among many others that use similar reasoning and operate with similar notions. So, why should we not use the term ‘conservatism’ to describe the social and political developments in Russia? Indeed, the term seems to be so widespread that it is used by media on a daily basis and is adopted by many Russian and non-Russian scholars alike (Timothy J. Colton, Paul Robinson, Kare Johan Mjør, Andrey Makarychev, Artemy Magun, Andrei Melville, to name a few). At this point, we encounter the first and most elementary problem, which lies in the methodology. We should not be too quick to adopt the notion of conservatism just because it is used by Russian media and officials. Even if we claim, as Katharina Bluhm does, that we see the term ‘conservatism’ merely as an analytical tool, we still cannot defend the idea that the self-description of a particular political strategy should define the direction of our research. Otherwise, this choice would eliminate any chance of establishing a critical distance. For instance, in Russia (and in other non-democratic countries), many political parties and movements call themselves democratic. This, of course, does not mean in any way that we necessarily have to use the definition in our analysis without any reservations and second thoughts. For instance, no scholar would in all seriousness consider the Liberal Democratic Party of Russia to be a prime example of liberal developments in Russian politics since the 1990s.
But is the self-description of Russian conservatism to be trusted? At first glance, the answer should obviously be positive, as all crucial pieces seem to be in order. There is the revered rhetoric about the revival of cultural tradition, the preservation of traditional values (family values among them), the importance of historical lessons, etc. Now, here is the second problem. What kind of tradition are we talking about specifically, considering the long period of Soviet rule? Are we talking about Stalinism, the allegedly continuous tradition of Russian conservatism from the early 19th century till the revolution of 1917, or something more ancient, as the statements of some representatives of the Orthodox Church would suggest? In Russian official media, the justification of political action juggles between references to old religious texts and documents, out-of-context quotations from Russian thinkers, and admiration for certain practices and achievements of the Soviet period. The notion of ‘post-Soviet conservatism’, suggested by some scholars as a means to overcome this issue, does not help us, as the term is self-contradictory and does not address the heterogeneous character of the idea of tradition (nor does it help us to analyse other examples, such as Western Europe, USA, Turkey, and China). What tradition has to be respected? Moreover, how do we know the way to differentiate between ‘organic’ and spontaneous changes in this tradition? Unfortunately, but also understandably (if we consider the practical manifestations of the so-called ‘new conservatism’ in Russia), there are no satisfying answers to these questions.
The same supposedly conservative rhetoric is connected to the third issue that concerns the notion itself (rather than its use). Conservation basically means preservation of what we already have. As the German political theorist Thomas Biebricher puts it in his recent study on the crisis of the German middle class (Biebricher 2023, 40), a conservative is akin to a gardener who tends to his plants, trying to support their natural growth while avoiding any sudden changes that could impede it. This kind of preservational conservatism is what we find in Michael Freeden’s description of conservatism, referred to by Katharina Bluhm, – but also in some public statements of Russian officials, including Putin’s Valdai speech I quoted from. However, most proposals, decisions and actions of Russian officials point in another direction, one of the desperate measures needed for the restoration of something de facto long gone. These symbolic acts that strongly remind us of the movement of the Conservative Revolution, born from the late 19th-century crisis of conservatism, can take different shapes. One could dig up a relict from the Soviet past and present it as a fresh idea for school education, or quote certain thinkers closely associated with National Socialism in order to explain why there is no need for a transparent law system, or even study a map from the 17th century in an attempt to find another justification for the war against Ukraine. In all cases, the strategy is similar: to choose from a vast pool of genuine or falsified historical examples to back a specific decision – and then, if it does not stick, to swiftly find something else. The beauty of this kind of decisionism, which has nothing to do with conservatism, is that it provides means for quickly adapting to ever-changing reality by being free from any long-term obligations, rules or role models. Desperate times, which very conveniently know no end in the language of Russian officials and ideologists, call for desperate measures.
A potential counterargument to the previous considerations concerning tradition and preservation would be to provide examples of specific pro-government thinkers, movements and organisations that define Russian politics, formulating its seemingly conservative principles and goals. For instance, Katharina Bluhm considers organisations like the Izborsk Club or ISEPR as the Russian government’s conservative ‘think tanks’. Thus, we come to the fourth issue, which concerns the structure of conservative movements and their influence on the decisions of the Russian government. A close inspection of the major political events of recent years immediately shows that these organisations are no ‘think tanks’ that follow the model of American conservative institutes (like the American Enterprise Institute) and play no major role in key decisions, including Putin’s decision to attack Ukraine. Rather, the goal of these organisations, which often have a short shelf life, is to a posteriori back these decisions, changing their stance in accordance with the rapidly changing political climate. Moreover, their members have very different backgrounds and, under normal circumstances of a theoretical debate, would hardly come to terms with each other. Of course, we could still try to salvage the initial counterargument by saying that ‘conservatism’ is merely an umbrella term whose aim is to establish common ground between many different groups, from socialists and ‘Soviet patriots’ to monarchists and Orthodox conservatives (as is stated, for instance, on the internet site of the Izborsk club). But at the same time, we have to ask ourselves if this kind of broad notion should still be considered as ‘conservatism’.
Even in these problematic theoretical circumstances, there seems to be another way to rescue the concept of new Russian conservatism by means of a negative definition – as an essentially illiberal and anti-Western movement. While the second part of the definition can be considered defensible (despite some reservations), the first one cannot. Here, we are dealing with the fifth issue: the compatibility of Russian ‘new conservatism’ with conservative traditions elsewhere. The elephant in the room is the role of neoliberal elements in contemporary Russian politics. Bet even if we brush this obvious problem aside, claiming that neoliberalism is slowly giving way under the circumstances of economic and social transformations during the ongoing war, there are other issues with the argument of Russian ‘illiberal’ conservatism, as conservative traditions themselves prove to be not very compatible with the allegedly conservative rhetoric of Russian officials. While some of them, like Valery Zorkin, claim themselves to be successors of the English, German (or Russian) intellectual tradition of conservative thought, the political reality suggests otherwise. The extensive list of enemies of several self-proclaimed conservative groups in Russia (be it religious fundamentalists like Forty Fourties or more ‘official’ organisations like the Izborsk club) explicitly or implicitly contains American neoconservatives, representatives of the Jewish traditionalist conservative community, large parts of the international National Conservative political movement, and even conservative civil movements, as long as their goals do not align with those of the Russian government. Of course, this list would not be complete without the mainstream intellectual conservatism of Slavophiles, which is mostly completely ignored by Russian officials and ideologists, as they are much more interested in the self-destructive authoritarian conservatism of Alexander III and in pseudo-conservative authors of the 20th century (primarily Ivan Ilyin and Carl Schmitt). When Putin mentioned, some two years ago, that he likes to read Nikolai Berdyaev, he certainly cannot mean the 1904 essay “The Fate of Russian Conservatism”. This is a pity, since Berdyaev, in a brilliant analysis, addresses the question of why Russia’s bureaucratic conservatism of the late 19th century, as we know it mostly from the writings of Konstantin Pobedonostsev, meant a dead end for Russian conservatism in general.
Instead of the ‘illiberalism’ argument, one could use its more subtle variation, claiming that the core of new Russian conservatism is the nationalist ideology. Thus, we come to the sixth and last issue: the relation between conservatism and nationalism. Undoubtedly, nationalism lies at the core of the ongoing worldwide revival of the centre-right and far-right political parties. One example would be the previously mentioned National Conservative movement that started in the U.S. but has already taken its roots in many European countries. However, in Russia, we see a vastly different picture. Not only is there no immediate connection to these movements, but they are, in many cases, openly hostile to Putin’s imperialist gambles. We also should consider the uneasy relationship between the Russian government and various nationalist groups and persons representing them. An obvious example is the most prominent Russian political prisoner, Alexey Navalny, who was for a long time involved with Russian nationalists. Another question would be what kind of nationalism we mean in Russia’s case. Is it the one that requires to respect and preserve one’s cultural identity and heritage? In this case, the Russian government does not do a very good job, as its actions cause direct harm to this heritage. Or are we perhaps talking about ‘national interests’ in a political sense? But then, why are these interests represented by one person and not civil communities? We should not forget that classical conservatism was initially hostile to any form of autocracy. Of course, such kind of conservatism, organised around the concept of common good, never interested the autocratic rulers of the Russian empire. Nor are they of particular interest to those who feel at home in Putin’s vertical of power.
There are undoubtedly many other counterexamples that could undermine the theory of new Russian conservatism. These include, for instance, the modus operandi of the contemporary healthcare system and the legal system in the Russian Federation. However, as these examples require us to delve deeper into specific areas, like the ones of philosophy of law or bioethics, I will put them aside for now.
2. Russian Pseudo-Conservatism: An Introduction
Given that the previous arguments convince us to stop using the notion of conservatism, why do we need a new notion, let alone the rather unfamiliar ‘pseudo-conservatism’? What could we gain from taking a closer look at this alternative? Of course, our previous brief analysis per se does not legitimise the usage of a new notion, nor does it clarify what is exactly a ‘pseudo-conservative’ kind of politics. To get there, I will explain the crucial differences between conservatism and pseudo-conservatism. My approach will be directly opposite to one of Katharina Bluhm and others since I will not look into what the so-called Russian conservatism claims to be but rather into what the pseudo-conservatism proves to be on a practical, or pragmatic, level.
The notion of pseudo-conservatism makes merely a sporadic appearance in political theory. Still, it has an interesting double origin, which should be taken into account for theoretical purposes of demarcating pseudo-conservatism from conservatism and, at the same time, from totalitarian ideologies such as National Socialism. First, the notion can be found in Theodor Adorno’s analysis of the usage of the term ‘conservatism’ by the National Socialist Party in Germany before and during Hitler’s rule. Second, it appears in the writings of Richard Hofstadter, an American historian and public intellectual who studied the drastic changes in the political landscape of the post-war U.S. on specific examples, such as the infamous Barry Goldwater 1964 presidential campaign. For the purposes of my analysis, I will use the notion in the vein of Hofstadter, as his theoretical approach, focusing on the role of ahistorical views of history, antimodernist rhetoric and conspiracy theories in politics, proves to be broader and more fitting for today’s perspective in comparison to Adornos’ very specific search for traces of National Socialist ideology in German society. Adorno’s analysis could be helpful for historical studies of the ideological movement of the Conservative Revolution as a precursor and harbinger of National Socialism. In contrast, Hofstadter’s observations on pseudo-conservatism in American politics can be without significant changes applied to contemporary examples.
We can sum up the key traits of pseudo-conservatism in five points.
First, pseudo-conservatism understands strategy as tactics. It can be defined as a tactically acting, militant decisionism, with an evident, practical absence of a ‘conservative core’. Second, pseudo-conservatism avoids any commitment and self-commitment since it understands both as a hindrance. Within the framework of an ideal pseudo-conservative paradigm of action, all options should be possible. Third, pseudo-conservatism has a pseudo-historical character, as it uses history only for ideological decoration while avoiding a deep discussion of specific historical problems. Fourth, instead of being oriented towards the principle of the common good (as would be the case in conservatism), pseudo-conservatism is guided by the divide et impera principle, plundering the resources of the society for the sake of satisfying momentary interests of political actors. Fifth, the situation-oriented and anti-intellectualist character of pseudo-conservatism ensures that it can easily turn into authoritarianism and anti-nonconformism.
How does this brief picture relate to the concept of mainstream conservatism, with its ‘conservative core’? Pseudo-conservatism does not coincide with any ‘new’ or ‘old’ conservatism. Instead, it is a broad political tactic with its set of specific, situationally oriented instruments. This tactic claims a false identity – that of conservatism – while pursuing its own goals, which are largely different and, in many cases, directly opposite to the ones in conservative strategies. The ongoing debates in contemporary political theory mainly revolve around two types of conservatism (formulated in Brennan/Hamlin 2004) – adjectival conservatism, which seeks to avoid any possible risks, and nominal conservatism, which is based on the idea of conservation of the status quo. Although both of these types were rightly criticised by several scholars (e.g. in Beckstein 2015) because of the uncertainty of limits of the status quo and crucial inconsistencies in the model of action whose sole goal is to pre-emptively eliminate any risks, there are currently no theoretical models which could present a fresh alternative. (For instance, Freeden’s model, used by Bluhm, looks like a combination of a soft version of nominal conservatism and adjectival conservatism.) Rather unsurprisingly, Russian pseudo-conservatism does not possess the essential traits of both types of conservatism. It does not respect the status quo, nor does it rationally calculate future risks in order to avoid them.
Instead of simply not preserving a certain status quo, pseudo-conservatism hates it with passion while steadily trying to undermine it. In Russia, the most evident examples can be connected to the tradition of legal nihilism (which I, unfortunately, cannot discuss in detail here, as this is a vast topic in itself). I will only point out one foundational tactical element of the Russian pseudo-conservatism – the notion of the state of exception, which was initially borrowed from Carl Schmitt’s works on the idea of politics but was significantly simplified in the broad everyday usage. The appeals to the state of exception have evolved into an everyday mantra for officials of any kind, from high-level ones like Valery Zorkin (Chairman of Russia’s Constitutional court) to mid- and lower-level bureaucrats responsible for the implementation of social programs (with their explanations following the pattern ‘we are at war, therefore we cannot provide you with this and that’; we should also take into account that the pattern was already widely used long before 2022). While any action or inaction of a government official can be explained and excused through the notion of exception, there is little room left for normativity. The original meaning of Cicero’s phrase “exception proves the rule” (exceptio probat regulam) does not apply here.
The permanent state of exception allows the government to evade any commitments, making it very easy to alter the justifications of its actions on the fly. At the same time, it has one unfortunate consequence. As any serious commitment to a specific strategy would harm Russian pseudo-conservatism, it struggles with the grand task of creating a new ideology that could, at least remotely, look like its Soviet role model. As soon as a stable ideology is in place, changing justifications in domestic and foreign politics would be a much bigger headache for Russian officials. Thus, there is no surprise in how difficult the current government’s search for a new ideology proves to be and how desperate their attempts are to grab the attention of the young generations of Russians who could theoretically provide some fresh ideas.
Russian pseudo-conservatism often appeals to ‘tradition’, ‘traditional values’, history in general, and specific historical examples. Still, its interest in national history is minimal. Instead of treating historical events of the past as a means to gain a deeper insight into the country’s future, it chooses a very limited number of historical events and figures in support of its tactical decisions. More often than not, distorted or fictional historical symbols and events prove to be more beneficial for Russian officials than the real ones – like the reinvented ‘Ribbon of Saint George’ or the fabricated story about Panfilov’s guardsmen, revitalised by Vladimir Medinsky, an important member of the supposedly ‘conservative’ Izborsk club. Rather than a serious discussion about historical lessons that could help us better understand the current situation in all its complexity, pseudo-conservatism supports their one-sided, fragmented interpretation, seeking to solidify it through educational initiatives like the single history textbook for Russian schools.
Momentary interests of political actors are a priority for pseudo-conservatism. The idea of satisfaction of these interests at the cost of the common good is hardly anything new for Russia or any other country (rather, it is just as old as politics is). The new element here is the totalised political nihilism that appeals to citizens who have lost all hope in the traditional concept of political representation and competition. Instead of offering its audience a picture of the future that develops itself from the present in a realistic way, pseudo-conservatism draws on the frustration and resentment concerning the present, including the political sphere in general. At the same time, it takes away all alternative options by painting itself as a sole salvation during the hard times of crises that keep coming one after another. Its goal is to disqualify the very idea of a public sphere as a place for discussing different opinions and transform it into a place for venting one’s emotions. If we put it in philosophical terms, its primary enemy is the Kantian concept of public use of reason as a means of contributing to the development of social and political structures. As a specific example of this enmity, we can just look at how the Russian official media stage ‘public discussions’ in the format of chaotically structured political talk shows.
Russian pseudo-conservatism favours those who seek a monolithic, indisputable authority. Its roots in the 19th-century bureaucratic conservatism, critically dismantled by Berdyaev, become most evident here. The mainstream conservative criticism of authoritarianism (which goes back to the times of conflict between absolute and constitutional, or parliamentary, monarchy) gives way to the idea that the common good can only be attained through the unconditional support of an authoritarian ruler. Under these conditions, conservative strategies become extremely shallow, devoid of their core elements, and slowly but inevitably transform into pseudo-conservatism. Any intellectual debate associated with the search for long-term and/or alternative solutions has no place here, as it impedes situational pseudo-conservative tactics. ‘Putin’s plan’ for Russia, including the justification of the war with Ukraine, is something that always remains elusive and vague but at the same time is publicly accepted by any member of the vertical of power. Hannah Arendt’s idea of ‘non-thinking’ aptly describes this self-understanding of a citizen who sees oneself as merely a cog in the government machine.
The crisis of conservatism does not solely concern Russia or post-Soviet states (albeit Russia certainly offers a vivid example of pseudo-conservative politics). From this background, the analytic category of pseudo-conservatism provides us with optics for a comparative analysis. Still, it would be far-fetched, even naïve, to call the concept of pseudo-conservatism a solution to the question of how (and whether) conservatism can overcome its current crisis caused by a combination of cultural, social, economic, and political factors. Instead, the concept allows us to take a step back and critically scrutinize the supposedly conservative rhetoric of the Russian government and pro-government media. Moreover, it introduces a series of interesting questions – on genuine conservative aspects of Russian culture and social life, on why Russian pseudo-conservative tactic finds many admirers in various parts of the world, and, last but not least, on the origins and development of Russian pseudo-conservatism in comparison to pseudo-conservative developments in other countries (such as Poland, Hungary, Turkey, USA, Germany, and France). Delving into these questions will ensure that pseudo-conservatism does not remain an empty label merely used for ad hoc purposes.
References
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Beckstein, Martin. “What does it take to be a true conservative?”, in Global Discourse 5/1 (2015), 4–21.
Biebricher, Thomas. Mitte/Rechts: Die internationale Krise des Konservatismus. Berlin: Suhrkamp, 2023.
Bluhm, Katharina; Varga, Mihai (eds.), New Conservatives in Russia and Eastern Europe. London: Routledge, 2019.
Brennan, Geoffrey; Hamlin, Alan. “Analytic Conservatism”, in British Journal of Political Science 34/4 (2004), 675–691.
Freeden, Michael. Ideologies and political theories: a conceptual approach. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006 [1996].
Hofstadter, Richard. Anti-Intellectualism in American Life. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1963.
Hofstadter, Richard. The Paranoid Style in American Politics. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1965.