She notes that it is easy for Westerners to assume that “Russians have simply been brainwashed.” Given the long-standing stock images of Russian authoritarianism, it’s easy for Westerns to assume that such a thing is common in “totalitarian” countries, of which the democracy-vs.-autocracy dichotomy is a prominent current version. And just going along wtih a familiar assumption has the convenience of seeming obvious, without having to put much effort into thinking what, for instance, “brainwashing” might mean in this particular situation.
What Glynn explains is that Russia media – which is largely controlled by Putin-aligned oligarchs in an arrangement similar to that in Hungary – does provide a lot of information with a considerable amount of it packaged like infotainment aimed at drilling various narratives into the consciousness of low-information voters in particular. She describes the functioning this way:
These tactics can take their toll. Over the last eight years of watching Russian state media, there have been moments where I have paused to ask myself, what if they are right? The West does have its flaws, just think of the Iraq War, of the 2008 crash - what if Russia is right in saying that we (the West, NATO) are helping the Islamic State or have staged an attack? I have thought these thoughts in the comfort of Oxfordshire and in spite of the fact that I have access to all the sources and the education and freedom of movement to check the reality. Now, imagine someone without that access, who is not critically engaged with the media, but simply watches the news for information and has no reason to doubt it. In those cases, Russian propaganda could be very effective, latching onto your naivety and warping the world. (p. 78)
Why apathy is also a political stance
But she stresses that the effectiveness of such presentations depends on the condition that the “Kremlin propaganda is washing people's brains with things they do want to believe, helping them to stay within certain comfortable cognitive frameworks where they are the good guys and they've always been the good guys.” (my emphasis)
In other words, this approach is building on general outlooks formed by public education and the general cultural understanding in Russian society. She cautions against easy acceptance of narratives that such propaganda approaches function like some kind of high-tech brain implant. On the contrary, she writes that much of it is based rather on political apathy:
[I]f you think that any politics is just a form of cheating and so, capitalising on distrust, the Kremlin and its media assistants can shunt those actively opposed to the Kremlin's agenda into the apathetic grouping, not encouraging them to believe in the Kremlin view so much as to question the idea of objective reporting in general and especially in the West. (p. 80-81) [my emphasis]
The Steve Bannon approach, Russian-style
Steve Bannon, one of the convicted felon Donald Trump’s key politics advisers/strategists who himself served prison time for a crime on which his patron Trump couldn’t pardon him. Bannon has the dubious distinction of being most famous for articulating a political strategy based on the principle, “The Democrats don’t matter. The real opposition is the media. And the way to deal with them is to flood the zone with shit.” (1)
In other words, give the public a lot of different and even conflicting options of what to believe about a particular event or situation so they not only have various choices for which to pick, while simultaneously creating confusion about whether it’s even possible to tell what the reality is. Or least make it too tedious to try.
Glynn describes a similar approach in Russian reporting:
The Russian media's perversion of the facts is sometimes so horrible that it is hard to focus on much else, you feel almost compelled to stop everything and perform an autopsy on the truth. But in doing so, you allow Russian lies, rather than the crimes themselves, to become the focal point of criticism. This is a tried and tested technique for shifting the focus from moral aberration to an abstracted conversation about who is lying, who is exaggerating, what is truth and how we define reality. Perhaps some of the Russian opposition's tendencies towards introspection stem from not only how easy it is to fall into this trap but also their need to engage in a conversation with the Kremlin's form of reality, a need driven by the fact that most Russians (their putative voters) inhabit a world shaped by this (un)reality. (p. 98)
And she adds, “That may also explain why in many ways the techniques of the opposition and pro-Kremlin channels can appear complementary; for example, they both share a sarcastic and bitter humour and a relentless negativity in their depictions of the world.”
But this also takes part in a context where general patriotic and common assumptions about the virtue and value of the Russian nation and Russia’s role in the world. Russian patriotism has the value and limitation of its manifestations in other countries, as well. No matter how ugly the actual policy may be or how gruesome the conduct of Our Side’s armed forces may seem, it can be reframed “into a struggle for truth and salvation. Such a noble struggle requires a worthy opponent: Satan - or at least the West.”
Understanding the particular of a given situation is important. But all of this describes how nationalistic and patriotic assumptions function in wartime. The longer the war goes on, and the more hardships and problems it brings, the less inspiring patriotic certainties become.
Glynn stresses how widespread a Russia-centric assumption about Ukraine in particular is in Riussian society:
The war is so easily, readily and deliberately entangled with discussions of Russian identity, history, meaning and security because of Ukraine's pivotal importance to Russia's understanding of itself. But this also makes it dangerous and destabilising, meaning Russians are eager to find an acceptable answer to the question of why Ukrainians dislike them so much. This inevitably necessitates lies, as understanding the real reason would require Russians to unlearn their version of history, Russianness, and what their country has been up to in Ukraine [since 2014]. Most people are (wisely) reluctant to confront these questions. (p. 101) [my emphasis]
At the same time it’s important to remember that patriotism and nationalism produce powerful emotions that enable individuals and groups and nations to achieve extraordinary achievements in both peace and war, they are also powerful drugs that can induce people to follow leaders who make really bad decisions.
And not all causes are equal. There are international laws based broadly on the liberal tradition, which are aimed at preventing wars and at limiting the destructiveness of them when they happen. And not all causes are equal. France’s Algerian War, to take just one of many examples of colonial wars, inspired intense patriotic feelings on both sides. But Algeria was justified in fighting for its independence, and France’s often vicious attempts to suppress it was an unjust cause, not matter how deeply-felt French support for it may have been.
Centuries of evidence also tell us that patriotism is not only a powerful drug, it can have very destructive side-effects. Including spectacular misjudgments by national leaders in launching wars and underestimating the Other Side.
Next: Lasting effects of Russia’s difficult 1990s
Notes:
(1) Stelter, Brian (2021): This infamous Steve Bannon quote is key to understanding America’s crazy politics. CNN 11/16/2021. <https://edition.cnn.com/2021/11/16/media/steve-bannon-reliable-sources/index.html> (Accessed: 2024-21-08).
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