WHAT IS RUSSIANNESS??

Sorry about the complete fake-out on the Russia blog. I’m still working on it because I am not only incredibly verbose but I have also had one final and two large papers in the past 3 days. ANNNND I just booked my ENTIRE trip to Greece (Athens, Mykonos, and Santorini) as an after-finals treat (from May 18-24). yaaaay! Anyhow, I thought I would leave you with this little gem I wrote for my Russia Past and Present final, answering the prompt, “What is ‘Russianness’?”

Enjoy.

What is “Russianness”?

Winston Churchill once said, “I cannot forecast to you the action of Russia. It is a riddle wrapped up in a mystery inside an enigma: but perhaps there is a key. That key is Russian national interest” (The Quotation’s Page).  What exactly is Russia national interest? Generally speaking, it would be Russia’s goals and ambitions. But what are these goals and ambitions? After spending only one week in Russia, I am hesitant to explain them. Russia’s tumultuous history has produced many different, often conflicting goals and ambitions. Even after seeing and experiencing everything I have during my time in St. Petersburg, Novgorod, and Moscow, I have the feeling that I would need almost another lifetime to fully understand the Russian national interest, or to determine what exactly Russian qualities are, or what “Russianness” is. But maybe Russianness is not about being understood completely, but being appreciated for what it is— a paradoxical relationship between Russia and the West; a dichotomy between “the West’s advances in prosperity and technology” and a belief in “the inherent uniqueness of Russia and its superiority over the materialist, decadent West” (Bacon 3). It is this paradox that defines Russianness, a paradox that must be taken into account in order to fully understand the country. More specifically, this paradox illustrates the tension between the secular and the religious aspects of Russian life, an important if not major facet of Russianness that I observed while both sightseeing and interacting with Russians themselves. I believe it is this specific tension that most clearly defines Russianness in a way that highlights the all-important paradox while also providing tangible evidence that this is, in fact, the most Russian of Russianness.

According to Edwin Bacon in his book “Contemporary Russia,”

The Russian idea is, at its broadest, the sense that there is a destiny and identity inherent within Russian-ness which is not Western, which has different cultural roots and different core values. It is the idea – or perhaps more accurately, the myth – that Russians are less materialistic, less individualistic, and less shallow than their Western counterparts, and instead have a greater commitment to spiritual values, egalitarianism, community, and the deeper mysteries of faith and eschatology. (132)

So while the Russian idea ties itself up with religion, namely Russian Orthodoxy, and faith, the West introduces a secular aspect to Russian society, thus creating a tension central to the concept of Russianness. According to James Billington, this is part of what gives Russian culture its distinctiveness: “a traditional religious base” and “periodic borrowing from the West” (Bacon 132-133). How is this? “Russian Orthodoxy celebrates the mystery of faith, ahead of the intellectual explanations of Western protestants…nothing else serves to identify [someone] with Russis, its uniqueness, its history, its people,” says Bacon (133). On the other hand, Russia has recently experienced a “broad opening up to the West resulting in the cautious embrace of many of the facets of ‘globalization’ combined with a determined resistance against what the more extreme opponents of Westernization have called ‘cultural genocide’” (Bacon 133). So while Russian culture retains Russian Orthodoxy, it also struggles with the secular West, combining some aspects of that materialistic society with more Russian qualities to produce its own flavor of society, also known as Russianness. In the following sections I will describe how I saw this tension firsthand when I was in Russia, and end by discussing what Russianness implies.

The first aspect of Russianness that was prevalent throughout St. Petersburg, Novgorod, and Moscow was Russian Orthodoxy, or the religious facet of Russian life. Although stifled in the Soviet era as explained to us by the Russian monk Father Dimitri when we visited Novgorod, “the Orthodox Church has been resurrected as a national symbol, as indeed it was before the 1917 revolution, although now it maintains formal independence from the state” (Bacon 44). According to Bacon, a key feature of Russian Orthodoxy is its

Greater emphasis on mysticism and spirituality: Western religion, like Western thought, has since the Enlightenment has been dominated by a tradition of rationalism, that is the belief that the human mind is capable of explaining everything, eventually. This attitude applies to theology as much as to philosophy: theological statements must be susceptible to proof and human reason. Orthodoxy does not reject truths that arise out of reason, but takes much more seriously extra-rational sources of truth: the symbolic, transcendental, and spiritual. The religious icon, the form of the service, Russian religious music, and the emphasis on artistic aspects of worship, all arise out of an emphasis on experience and adoration rather than analysis. (45)

This complete departure from Western thought is what makes Russia’s religion so very Russian.

This aspect of Russianness was extremely visible in all three cities our class visited. In St. Petersburg, we were able to experience an actual Russian Orthodox service that was being conducted during the Easter holidays. As a Protestant myself, I truly felt the Russianness that these churches encompassed. At first glance, even the construction of Russian Orthodox churches speaks to the uniqueness of this aspect of Russian culture. The colorful, beautiful onion domes that dot each city’s skyline such as St. Basil’s Cathedral in Moscow and Cathedral of the Split Blood in St. Petersburg lets you know, without hesitation, that you are, in fact, in Russia. Nowhere else in the world can you experience cathedrals such as these. Greece may come close, but the domes are of a different style. Besides the obvious Russianness of the exterior of the Russian Orthodox churches, the insides also speak to a non-Western style of religion. Although I claim no expertise on religion, when I was in a service, I knew that I was experiencing something Russian. From the beautiful choir and Russian lyrics, to the wall of icons and burial places of Russian kings, queens, and saints, to the scarves worn on all women’s heads, to the lack of pews or seats, this religion represented Russian traditions centuries old, a distinct part of the country and the lives of those who live in it.

One interview I had with a Russian girl, Elizabeth Moiseeva, illustrates how important Russian Orthodoxy is to Russianness. She told me that she attended church almost every week and that during the Easter services she stood about 4 hours in a row at a church service. When I asked her if that was typical, she responded that it was just a part of her life and that many others are the same way. In her mind, standing up for so long was not out of the ordinary, and very much a typical aspect of Russian life (Moiseeva 2010). Thus, the Russian Orthodox religion represents the first half of what is Russianness: a non-Western religion that is an unparalleled as a fundamental part of Russia.

The second half of what Russianness is, or what the paradox of Russianness is, is the secular side of Russian culture, influenced by Western materialism and ideals. To clarify, I want to reiterate that the secular aspect of Russian society is not specifically anti-religion, but rather composed of characteristics of Russia that do not involve religion, or are nonreligious. Beginning during the reign of Peter the Great, Western thought slowly began to creep into Russia, thus producing the tension of the dichotomy between Russian religion and Western secularization today. The collapse of the Soviet Union contributed to this influx of Western influence, with Russia playing somewhat of a “catch-up” game with the Western world as far as technology and ownership of goods, items that are associated with Western secularization and materialism (Bacon 14-18). This secularization, another essential component of Russianness, can be illustrated by several things that I noted and observed in Russia.

First, Western secularization can literally be seen in the air in Moscow. It is to this day one of the smoggiest cities I have been in. I cannot say for sure whether the smog was especially bad when I visited Russia, but I believe the fact that my vision of buildings less than one mile away was obscured by smog is a testament to the influence of Western secularization, in the form of materialism, factories, and industrialization. According to Bacon,

Russia’s major cities have changed almost beyond recognition in the past decade, with the most immediately evident innovation being the arrival of large shopping malls and out-of-town stores. Anyone arriving at Moscow’s Sheremetevo airport these days will notice a vast IKEA furniture store on the outskirts of the city, along with restaurants and leisure complexes; in the centre of Moscow more and more shopping malls, replete with fashionably expensive goods, are evident; a short metro ride from the centre to the Gorbushka market will reveal a bustling indoor complex, crowded with Muscovites buying the latest electronic goods. (53)

The Westernization that supports the inundation of factories, stores, and crowds is a large contributor to the pollution, and the policies of the Russia government in regard to the pollution can be seen as Western as well. Because of all the consumption brought on by Westernization, waste and pollution are being created, yet nothing is positively being done about it. The heat and air conditioning are used inappropriately, recycling is not advanced, and cars crowd the roads, making travel stressful, if not almost impossible.

This brings me to my second illustration of the Western secularization aspect of Russianness, which involves the multitude of cars. As stated previously, the roads of Russia, particularly Moscow, are jam packed with cars, making traffic a nightmare almost any hour of the day and obviously contributing to the smog and pollution problem of the city. Because the Soviet Union so tightly regulated what consumer goods Russians could buy or not buy, when the USSR collapsed everyone rushed out to purchase cars, which led to an overabundance of vehicles on the road and unprecedented increase in pollution. Thus the influence of Western culture contributes to yet another typical aspect of Russian daily life.

The third example I encountered during my stay in Russia of Western secularization is that of the Russian brides. I think there is no better example of materialism and Western culture affecting young Russian people than during a wedding. At the outset, they are all decked out in their flashiest ensembles, sporting fur, tiaras, and sparkles among many other gaudy fashion statements that scream of materialism. When you get closer to the wedding party, you discover they are smoking, drinking, and parading around the city in limousines, experiencing the life of a Hollywood star for one day. What better example of Western secularization can there be? It is almost a gross parody of Western influence, a satire warning against the dangers of the West. The influence of the West on the lives of average Russians is immense, thus this Western secularization is accordingly a major part of Russianness.

Overall, my visit to Russia has opened my eyes to what I consider to be Russianness: a complex paradox with religion on one side and secularization on the other. It does not seem as if they should fit together, but for some odd reason, they do. They are what makes Russia so unlike any other country in the world, what gives Russia its Russianness. Bacon states “The term ‘Russian Idea’ indicates a set of interpretation, by Russian thinkers of various political and philosophical persuasions, of what is distinctive about Russia. Not all of these formulations are identical, but they do tend to share common features. The most important of these is that Russia is different from the West…Russia is defined, crudely, and not the West” (47).  Maybe Russia isn’t so different from the West than is thought. Or maybe it is not the anti-West as Bacon writes, but a different kind of entity altogether, something that cannot really be compared to the West. After my experience, I tend to agree with this sentiment. Russia is its own kind of animal, steeped in a mystical religious tradition yet reveling in a Western secularism and materialism. At the risk of sounding corny, I think I will call that animal Russianness.