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Even for an autocrat like Russian President Vladimir Putin, waging war depends on the acceptance—if not the support—of his people. Despite the disastrous start to his invasion of Ukraine, and with Moscow facing battlefield losses and mounting casualties, Russian approval of the war remains remarkably high.
Maria Lipman, a Russian journalist and political scientist who fled her country when the war began, explains why Russian support for the war remains so strong—and what Putin is doing to keep it that way. He “has used the war to clamp down on Russian society, to pull elites even closer to him, and to shore up his domestic position,” Lipman writes in a January essay with Michael Kimmage.
We discuss the strength of Putin’s regime, how the war in Ukraine has shaped Putin’s relationship with the Russian people, and what outcomes of the war the Russian public would possibly accept.
Sources:
“Wartime Putinism” by Michael Kimmage and Maria Lipman
“What Mobilization Means for Russia” by Michael Kimmage and Maria Lipman
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The Foreign Affairs Interview is produced by Kate Brannen, Julia Fleming-Dresser, and Molly McAnany; original music by Robin Hilton. Special thanks to Grace Finlayson, Nora Revenaugh, Caitlin Joseph, Asher Ross, Gabrielle Sierra, and Markus Zakaria.
Even for an autocrat like Vladimir Putin, waging war depends on the acceptance, if not the support, of his people. Despite the disastrous start to his invasion of Ukraine, despite battlefield losses and mounting casualties, Russian approval of the war remains remarkably high.
Masha Lipman, a Russian journalist and political scientist who fled her country when the war began, explains how Putin has managed to sustain support for his war effort. She warns that there is little reason to think that will change anytime soon.
Masha, welcome to The Foreign Affairs Interview.
Thank you so much. Thanks for inviting me.
So I want to get to the prospects for Russia and for Vladimir Putin and for U.S.-Russian relations during and after the war in Ukraine in the course of this conversation, especially to what you, in a recent Foreign Affairs piece, called “wartime Putinism.” But I want to start much earlier, going back to, I think, a more hopeful time for Russia, for Russians, for Russia’s role in the world—one that you were very much a part of as a journalist and editor, and as a chronicler and analyst of the country’s course. You've written a lot about the bargain that Vladimir Putin made with the Russian people at the start of his rule more than 20 years ago; that followed a decade of chaos and instability that had come after the fall of the Soviet Union. Going back to the 1990s, what is your diagnosis of what went wrong with the course Russia was on? Where did Russian democracy especially go wrong? And was it really doomed from the start, or were there moments when it could have gone on another course?
I would say it was probably doomed. Maybe doomed is too hard a word—but I don't think in retrospect there was a real chance for Russia to evolve as—what? As a Western democracy? What kind of Western democracy as the U.S., as Britain, as France, as Germany, as whatever. Russia is a large country, the largest country in the world, a difficult country, a complicated country. And the chances of Russia evolving, as very naive hopes circulated time, was indeed something that was not justified. I wouldn't say that I was just so insightful at the time; I too had my hopes. But in retrospect, I think what happened—maybe not exactly the dynamic, not exactly the timing—but that Russia did not end up as a Western democracy could have been predicted easily.
You were an editor at the time. What did you make of Putin when he first came to office, and what did you make of the offering that he brought to the Russian people at that point?
With my background as a Muscovite member of liberal intelligentsia, Putin was a person who made me actually very highly concerned. His past in the KGB; the fact that he did not share the hopefulness, the dreams, associated with the collapse of the Communist Party: he was not with his people at the time, with those millions of people in the Soviet Union who actually were rejoicing seeing the dictatorship of the Communist Party fall apart. He had a different background, different perception, and that made me very seriously concerned. Many people around me were under the illusion, or maybe wanted to believe, that Putin was a reformer. And indeed he was, especially as far as the Russian economy was concerned. But his political instincts were, I think, unmistakable, even back then.
You've described what you call a “no participation pact” between Putin's Kremlin and the Russian public that worked pretty well for the first several years. He brought a degree of stability, a degree of economic growth, and in exchange expected political demobilization. And that formula seemed to serve him well for a period of time.
It is common to describe the bargain or pact. However, whichever word you use as freedom for prosperity, that people sacrificed freedom for prosperity, I think it's a bit of an oversimplification. And I also see the path, of course, quote, unquote, backed as, actually, people surrendering responsibility for policymaking because they wanted to, because they were sick and tired of seeing the country in turmoil. Different politicians, political struggle, which actually did not bring about prosperity or anything positive to the country in their perception. So they surrendered responsibility willingly. When Putin was sending a signal that politics is not for you, politics is our realm, people accepted it eagerly. And this is how I think it shouldn't be described as a bargain.
Also, this quote, unquote pact, in my perception, can be seen as three-pronged. Putin’s pact with the wealthy was, you can go on enriching yourselves—and actually, Putin and the Russian oligarchs were very lucky with high and growing oil prices. So go on enriching yourself, we will look the other way as you are using not necessarily savory ways of enriching yourselves, but don't mess with politics. And if we ask you to share your wealth, please oblige. The pact with the masses, with the majority of Russians, was we will deliver and we expect you to vote for us in elections.
And finally, the third prong: the pact with educated urbanites, liberals, however you call them. People to whom things like freedoms are important. The Kremlin actually offered a rather high degree of freedom but the freedom that was limited to preaching to the converted, to preaching to the choir. You can have your own media, you can criticize us in our media. But please, we do not want you to stir unwanted sentiments among the broad population. This is for yourselves. And indeed it was, you know, it was not a bad life at all. And some of the Russian journalists even remember that time, the first decade of Putin's tenure, as a very good time for the media. They had loyal audiences, the audiences that were like-minded. They actually made enough money for a comfortable lifestyle.
So all three, all three prongs, all three different constituencies, had a reason to be satisfied. Basically, the message for all three was don't mess up with politics. And that was okay for all three, except for very, very few who still wanted to play a role in politics and to opt to play a role in policymaking. So it worked very well. The government delivered, the government actually offered a reasonable degree of freedom to those who wanted it and who were interested. Stability and prosperity was what the government delivered. And, you know, I can't imagine a country in which the vast constituency would not be happy to have prosperity growing and things getting stable instead of chaotic as they were in the previous decade.
So why did that start to come apart? Was it changes in the underlying conditions? Was it something about Putin that changed?
I would say the turning point was the end of 2011, at the time when Putin decided that he wanted to come back. There were four years at the end of the previous decade, when Putin stepped down from his position as President, and anointed his very loyal associate Dmitry Medvedev as President and himself took the position of Prime Minister. It is important to remember that the liberals who actually had a degree of freedom used that time for social organization; and by the end of the decade, there was actually a rising interest in politics as well. Not only did those people start all kinds of civic projects and gain skills but they also were developing, slowly, some degree of interest in politics.
So when Putin and Medvedev—Medvedev of course as proxy President—announced that they would trade places, that Putin was returning to the presidency and Medvedev would be made his Prime Minister, there was quite some outrage. And many people in Russia felt insulted that the two men would decide the issue of who has the ultimate power in the country between themselves instead of with the people. This was preceded—or about the same time, actually—in December 2011, we had a parliamentary election in Russia, which was especially rigged.
So the combination of a rigged election and this growing sense of, we actually can make a difference still, we are actually also interested in politics—this brought about large—well, rather large-scale, I would say—political protests. First and foremost in Moscow, but also in quite a few large urban centers. In Moscow, at the peak of that protest season, we had 100,000 people in the streets, chanting, “Putin go, Putin is a thief,” and such kind of chants. So that was actually a turning point.
And I would point out that it was the liberals, the educated urbanites, the modernized Russians, who actually broke their part of the pact. Because the pact was, you don't mess up with politics. Self-expression is fine in your media, in your civic projects, but politics is ours. Politics belongs to the Kremlin. So they were in breach of the pact. And of course, in response, Putin broke his part of that pact as well, big time. So that was when the Kremlin started to crack down on non-governmental media. Any kind of political activism became intolerable. And even civic activism was under suspicion. And from then on, actually, things grew worse and worse, and the government cracked down harder and harder.
This was also accompanied with a deterioration of relations with the West. Putin has always been suspicious of the West; however, he wanted cooperation, he wanted cooperation that would be beneficial for Russia. And he himself contributed to that by meeting with important entrepreneurs, Western businessmen, et cetera. But he always was suspicious of the West somehow interfering in an undesired way in the minds of the Russian people and in Russian domestic life.
Here, I think the turning point almost coincided with a season of protests that began in December 2011. And the turning point, I think, was the events in Libya, which Putin regarded as a betrayal of the West, as a moment when the West actually took advantage of Russia abstaining in the UN Security Council. When the Western coalition was about to launch its operation in Libya, Putin believed—and I think he was right—that the coalition went further than the Russian extension mandated, and he saw that as a betrayal. And also he was horrified at what happened to Qaddafi, the kind of murder, grisly murder, that was shown on television.
Anyway, I think that was—and it was almost the same time. So when the first large crowds appeared in the streets of Moscow and the first one had about 30,000 people chanting, “Putin was a thief and Putin should go” Putin’s very first reaction was that it was Hillary Clinton who inspired the protesters in Moscow. He did not repeat that afterwards. But it was, I think, his immediate reaction: this couldn't have evolved by itself, it is evidence that the West is interfering with Russian affairs in a way that Putin saw as inadmissible.
So it's a couple of years later, in 2014, that Putin takes Crimea and starts the war in eastern Ukraine and the Donbas that, you know—the war that continues today in Bakhmut and elsewhere. I think it's really interesting to look at this moment in the context of that turning point a couple of years earlier that you talked about. This moment when—I’m trying to avoid using the word “bargain” or “pact”—but the arrangement that had worked for Putin through those first years of his time in power, it started to come apart. And Crimea, as you write about it, allows him a new purchase, or a new moment to kind of be seen as a unifier and inspire pride in the Russian people. Why was that such an essential moment for him, when he took Crimea?
Well, I think first has to be emphasized just how immensely important Ukraine has always been to Putin. I would cite just one example, but a very important one. When the parliamentary election in Ukraine, earlier than the time that you've been talking about, the competition was between a pro-Moscow Viktor Yanukovych and a pro-Western—this is an oversimplification, but still I think they can be portrayed this way—Viktor Yushchenko, Putin personally campaigned—I cannot find another word, he personally campaigned—for Viktor Yanukovych, and Viktor Yanukovych lost. And to Putin, it was an immense shock. And this, I think, was pretty obvious from the way he talked about it, from the way he tried to somehow see this as a victory anyway, being based on exit polls instead of the actual results. Anyway, there was every evidence that to Putin it was a vital event—and he lost. And then, gradually, Yushchenko lost popularity, Viktor Yanukovych won, so Putin basically had his man in Ukraine. Who turned out to be not a very reliable partner, but anyway, he had his man, he was vindicated.
I'm skipping the details, but when the Maidan Revolution, the Revolution of Dignity, took place in Ukraine, Putin was thrown back to square one. Once again, despite all his effort personally investing in Ukrainian politics, and despite spending a lot of money on Ukraine, he was back to square one with Ukraine having a pro-Western figure at the helm. And a more radical one than Yushchenko was. So he had to do something about it to prevent this extremely untoward course of events. And that was when he annexed Crimea.
And indeed, you know, after the protests in Moscow, Putin emerged as a divider in his nation. He and the Kremlin condemned the protesters as un-Russian and unpatriotic. There was a clear desire to say that there are good Russians and un-Russian Russians. So he acted as a divider. But the annexation of Crimea not only was a move that he took to prevent the unthinkable, to prevent something that was totally unacceptable to him in other pro-Western governments, in the radical pro-Western government in Ukraine, but also it enabled him to reemerge as a uniter, the uniter that he was during his first decade in power, when the government was not very repressive, didn’t crack down the way they did later, when, you know, the time of prosperity and stability—he lost that after the protests. He regained the same image of a uniter after Crimea, because the annexation of Crimea was very broadly accepted and hailed in Russia, and seen as a moment of Russia's grand victory—actually, the first grand victory of Russia since the collapse of the Soviet Union. Everything that the Russians took pride in, such as the victory in World War II, was before, it was back in the Soviet Union.
So it was, at first, a very big victory, very significant to the Russian people. And on top of that, a victory that did not cost anything to the Russian people in terms of human lives or economically, certainly not at the time. It was instant, it was basically bloodless; and it was, it can be seen, as a present of the president to his people. It was Putin’s achievement, not the people's. And he was totally, you know, glorified for that, and his approval rating at the time almost reached 90 percent.
Jumping forward a few years, I want to go to the weeks and months ahead of the invasion that started on February 24th of last year. What was the mood inside of Russia in, let's say, late 2021 and early 2022? Was there a sense that the war was coming? Was there any sense that Russians were focused on it, supported it, invested in it? What do we know of the public opinion, and what was the mood like at that point?
Well, the Russian people, just like almost anyone in the world, did not expect that there would be war, despite the fact that there was an accumulation of troops at the border. But I wouldn't blame the Russian people for that. Very, very few political analysts, very savvy political analysts, actually believed, and said so, that there would be a real war, and a twentieth century war at that. So no, there was no anticipation of war. But there was certainly a rise in anti-Western sentiments. Propaganda worked. And at least ever since the annexation of Crimea, and even before that, there was the sense that was rather broad in Russia that the West is there to do harm to us.
But to that should be added that since 2014, there was also a sense that we can stand up for ourselves. The West is certainly a force for evil, it was certainly unfriendly, hostile; but we are strong. We rose from our knees. The war came, of course, as a shock, and it came as a shock to everyone. So not anticipated, but at least one aspect of this war was there even before the actual military operation began. The element that is extremely important now because the war in Russia is very broadly seen as the war against the West, against NATO, against the United States, and that had been there before the actual military operation began.
You've described this effort that Putin made to attack first, and I'm quoting you here, “only then attempting to mobilize Russian society.” He kind of expected a level of demobilization and, again quoting you, “he built a barrier between the war and everyday life.” How well did that work in the early months of the war?
I think it worked pretty well. And actually, it was clear—I remember as early as in May, when I was giving a talk, and I said that it is hard, it may be hard to believe it, but this war is seen as a distant war in Russia. This, of course, was before the actual military mobilizations that began in the fall. To switch from a demobilized society, a society of people who are pushed away from policymaking—policy is not your business, policy is ours—to something that would be a mobilized society, would have actually radically changed the very pattern of governance that Putin introduced. And he tried to avoid it as much as possible, and much longer than it was even expedient from a military point of view.
So, hence, the war is referred to as a “special military operation”—not the war still today, one year after, into a monstrous, atrocious war with a gigantic, abominable toll of casualties—still, this is not a war, and actually calling it a war is a crime in Russia. So why “special military operation”? Well, because “special military operation” is done by somebody, the military, not us, not us Russians. And it worked. And after the initial shock when it turned out that nothing special, nothing dramatic is interfering with our lives, the lives of the majority of Russians, people came to regard this war as something distant, something that didn't have to do with their lives. So this acquiescence—not ardent support, not passionate warmongering—that was what Putin, what Putin's Kremlin, needed. Acquiescence. You accept it, and you may go on with your business.
The Levada Center, the remaining nongovernmental polling agency, asks this question every month: Do you follow closely the developments of the military special military operation? Of course, they did not call it a war either. And the last result in February was 25 percent. Just a quarter of people, when asked what are the memorable events of the previous months. It is, of course, the most commonly remembered event—but 25 percent. In January, it was 31; early in the year, it was a higher number. But people are losing interest in the war, to the extent that they can pretend or they can withdraw into their private lives. And of course, it helps that, you know, the war has reached a phase when the developments have stalled, not much is going on, not much military movement. So people go on with their lives. And when asked, they will say they support, and the majority do. But it is not that, you know, they get up in the morning and go to bed in the evening thinking about Russian soldiers, Russian men who have been killed, or just how successful the military operation has been. They are in support, they are not against; the number of those who are against is not high. And what is very important, and we use this expression with my co-author in the Foreign Affairs article, Michael Kimmage, people are anti-antiwar, which means that they may not be ardently supportive—but they certainly do not approve of antiwar activists who they see as dangerous troublemakers and as traitors. Because you know, the war is us against them, and you do not support the enemy. Of course you don't.
You are among the hundreds of thousands of Russians, I suppose, who chose to leave around the time the war began. Was that a straightforward decision, even if a wrenching one? And how do you see others around you grappling with that decision to leave or stay?
It was an extremely abrupt decision for my family. And my husband and I, and our daughter's family, left together, the six of us with two little ones, so our grandchildren. I could never imagine that I would take such a crucial decision so instantly. You know, I've lived in Russia long enough to remember the waves of emigration of the 1970s, when I was still very young, and the other in the early 1990s. Lots and lots and lots of people around me, people I knew very well, especially in the 70s, my close friends emigrated, and I decided against it. And I never regretted it, when things began to change for the better in my country, and our wildest dreams were coming through with the collapse of the Communist Party, et cetera. So, you know, of course, we were talking about it with friends who emigrated and friends who stayed and, you know, after so many years, so many decades, I knew that I would never leave because I hadn’t when I was younger.
And then suddenly, in a matter of literally a few hours, we got up and went with just a few bags, and leaving behind our apartment in which we lived for 40 years. Our books, you know, an indispensable element of any Moscow intellectual’s apartment, lots and lots of books that we accumulated over the years. My husband is an academic, so even more books. We just locked the door and went.
Was that prompted by fear, or by a desire not to be acquiescent in that same way? I realize those aren't entirely separable, but…
For us, it was, you know, the immediate emotional reaction. We cannot stay in the country that is waging a monstrous war on its neighbor—just the impossibility, it was almost physical. You know, so many people describe those first days and hours after the war began in physical terms. You just couldn't do anything, you were in a state of shock. And I have to admit that it was the same for me. So it was that: something has to be done, and what is there to be done? Just leave.
I can only imagine how that decision would feel, especially on that kind of timeline. But to go back to the kind of acquiescence of all those who stayed—is wartime Putinism sustainable for Putin? Is this a situation that—even with, you know, perspective for the mobilizations, and the economic costs have been I think less than people thought they might be a year ago, but it's still been, you know, not nothing—does that start to fray over time?
I'm sorry to say the regime looks strong, much stronger than one would think or hope. And I'm also sorry to say that Putin and his minders, his aides, have handled with perfection their ways and their tricks that enabled them to keep the public in check and the elites in fear, the public in check. The way the government went around it, I'm sorry to say again, has been wise. And, you know, when we were leaving, or fleeing, a rumor went around that Putin was about to announce a state of emergency and that borders will be closed. So to us it was like, you know, the last day, and then doors would be shut and we would be locked inside.
However, doors were not locked, borders were not closed, they remain open up until this day. It is not easy to leave for a variety of reasons, but it is possible. So the policy was not to lock everyone inside and then have to deal with those who were discontented, but actually encourage them to leave and thereby let off steam, and then deal with those who chose to stay but still were defiant and brave—or, I don't know, maybe insane—enough to continue expressing antiwar sentiments. The government has become pretty merciless with time, but one is still free to leave, even today, to avoid the prospect of being locked up for many years. The government's crackdown has gotten much harder, and the jail terms much longer. And the treatment overall of those who dare show defiance in public—treatment has grown much harsher.
You have written in one of your pieces for Foreign Affairs that while it's extremely unlikely that Putin will be able to achieve some kind of, you know, acceptable outcome, he very likely could sustain this war indefinitely. That there's no reason for him to back down, but he can afford to prolong the war and pay those costs domestically and economically, more or less indefinitely. Is that still your basic analysis, that he has no real incentive to end this anytime soon?
Well, on the one hand, I can't believe this war will last indefinitely, certainly not at this pace, because both sides are wasting or spending so many human lives. This is not endless. There is a limited number of men. And same goes for equipment, for materiel, for whatever, rockets. So on the one hand, it cannot go on forever, not at this pace. It can probably slow down. But since there doesn't seem to be a clear advantage to either of the two sides, and increasingly, over months now, military experts have been saying that this war will last much longer, I think there is a potential, there is a capacity, for Russia to continue this war. And at least at this point in time, public opinion is not an obstacle.
Could Putin get away with accepting something short of the objectives he laid out early in the war? Could he say, you know, accept a deal where he returns to February 23rd borders and maintains the annexation of Crimea and occupation of some of eastern Ukraine, but otherwise withdraws to where things were before this started? Or would that be a threat to his rule in a different way?
Given the public mood today, I think almost anything can be sold to the people as, if not a victory, as an acceptable outcome of the war. And actually, even though some two thirds consistently say that they support the Russian military operation in Ukraine, a rather large number of people say they are in favor of peace talks. So I think as far as people at large are concerned, they will not be a problem, as they haven't been a problem in this war.
I want to end on a somewhat different note. Along with much else, you are the regular reviewer of books on Russia for Foreign Affairs, which means that at least for a few years, you've seen probably every book published in English on the subject. So I wanted to end by asking you about books; if someone wants to read three or four or five books to understand Putin's Russia, what would be at the top of your list?
You know, I'm a bit skeptical about books about Putin's Russia which can explain everything. There have been, over the years, lots of brilliant books; but, you know, Russia, the way Russia has evolved, was not expected ever, by anyone. But as I've been reading for several years now, you know, five books for every two months, every issue of the Foreign Affairs, I found myself more keen and more interested in history books than books about politics. And if I may, I would actually name a few that struck me as simply extremely interesting.
One of the recent ones that I read was a book by Lucy Ward called The Empress and the English Doctor, about how the Russian ruler Catherine the Great invited a modest British doctor to Russia, to go on inoculating her people beginning with herself against smallpox. And it can be seen as one of the early steps toward eradication of smallpox in the world. In the context of COVID, I think this is a fascinating read that I strongly recommend. Or a slightly earlier book that I reviewed in 2020 by Eleonory Gilburd called To See Paris and Die. A very interesting read and extremely thorough research of the late-Soviet infatuation with the West—and interesting reading today when Russia is in such, you know, existential conflict with the West and it seems inconceivable that, you know, the West would be seen as anything but the enemy in the conceivable future. So infatuation is the word, and that's what this is what Eleonory Gilbert describes. Or the Juliane Fürst book about Soviet hippies, I think very interesting to the American reader, especially a reader of a certain age who remembers American hippies. I think the book offers so much interesting stuff about this culture in Russia and how it evolved. Just three examples of books that do not help explain Putin's Russia in the least, especially the one about the eighteenth century, but are just interesting reads that do not condemn Russia or praise Russia, but just tell a story that is extremely interesting, and fascinating, and captivating, and it has to do with Russia.
And I have to think that reading some of that history will at least contribute to someone's understanding of Russia today, so I appreciate those recommendations. Masha, thank you so much for joining us today and for all the fantastic work you've done for Foreign Affairs over the last few years—I suspect we’ll continue to draw on you for much of it. But thanks so much for joining us.
Thank you, thanks for having me.
Foreign Affairs invites you to join its editor, Daniel Kurtz-Phelan, as he talks to influential thinkers and policymakers about the forces shaping the world. Whether the topic is the war in Ukraine, the United States’ competition with China, or the future of globalization, Foreign Affairs' biweekly podcast offers the kind of authoritative commentary and analysis that you can find in the magazine and on the website.
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