Konstantin Krylov. Island of Stability

Island of Stability
Konstantin Krylov

Publication date: March 1, 2004

The repeated return to the topic of personnel revolution - I mean the round table in the Radio-1 press center - is doubly symptomatic. Firstly, the Russian expert community (which, in fact, is the only subject in our society that “discusses” anything at all) has reason to fear a personnel revolution in its own ranks - which, understandably, heightens interest in the issue. And of course, the all-Russian situation also motivates us: the clearly identified desire of society for stabilization makes issues of social mobility not only relevant, no, but for the first time gives them some meaning.

As Mikhail Remizov rightly noted , “if we translate the term “stabilization” into the language of the cynical theory of elites, then this is just a slogan for “blocking the mechanism of vertical mobility,” that is, it is the cessation of the once-former rotation.” That is, to put it very roughly, “stabilization” means, first of all, the stabilization of the ranks of the ruling class, which firmly clung to power (which until then had always slipped out like a bar of soap, flopped to the ground, and then had to be picked up and washed under the tap) and intentional now to retain this power at any cost, not allowing anyone, no one at all, to approach it - even in their own interests (not to mention the “interests of the country” and other abstractions).

“Power” here is understood not only and not so much as “public service” (there are still some gaps there), but rather power in general, in all spheres. For example, on New Year’s Eve, the dumbfounded Russian man in the street was shown who was boss on TV: the Show Party of the old Bandera Alla Borisovna Pugacheva , and her Relatives and Prisnykh, was buzzing, bleating and showering each other with confetti on absolutely all programs, only this party, only she . This was done quite deliberately: it was clearly demonstrated to dear TV viewers that these were nestled on the blue screen forever, forever and ever, in the literal sense of these words. “There will never be anyone else, but there will only be us and our children, and our grandchildren, and grandchildren’s grandchildren, amen.” In fact, this New Year's bacchanalia is a much more serious sign of the end of the rotation than any liberal hysterics about the “coming dictatorship.”

This can make you nostalgic for times not so distant, when hopes for “new faces” sometimes seemed to be justified - sometimes even too much so. Yeltsin's antics, reminiscent of a gang of mummers, with painted mugs, squeals, jumps, resignations and castlings, were at least amusing. Even if these were not faces, but hari, at least they sometimes entertained with their novelty: a kindersurprise popped up out of nowhere, and then they killed Rokhlin, interestingly, “living life.”

However, if we look at the mechanisms of rotation that have operated and are operating in Russia (not only modern, but also “throughout history”), the current situation turns out to be a logical consequence of precisely this “living life”.

But first, a few important notes. Firstly, rotation is not just about “replacing people”. For example, all sorts of mechanisms for inheriting a position (for example, when a big boss warms up a place for his nephew, entwining him with his sidekick’s daughter, and the granddaughter is already in the chair) are not rotation in the proper sense of the word. From a sociological point of view, the same people remain in power, in the sense of the same group, caste, party or mishpukha. Approximately the same thing happens in the case of gradual replacement of retiring comrades by people from outside - those “like us” are selected, all those who are different are eliminated or molded into a mold.

Secondly, rotation itself is not an end in itself. There are areas where it is not really needed. Castes and dynasties are very convenient in some areas - for example, a dynasty of hereditary officials or a caste of guardians of order. The need for rotation arises when reality comes into conflict with the ethos of the ruling elite , with its system of views, habits and prejudices, and those, if lost, it would lose itself as a community.

In this case, the question arises about the subject of rotation. A cohesive community that has seized all the levers of power can only be challenged by another cohesive community, united by a certain common ethos and possessing a sufficiently manifest and conscious will to power.

Now about what could be the reason and content of such a challenge.

First, about the occasion. It is no coincidence that the closed nature of the ruling class became so noticeable precisely when society actually gained some stability. The fact is that the instability - let's say more catastrophic - of Russian history of the last decade was (and to some extent remains) the basis of the legitimacy of the Russian government.

This is connected with the central mythologem of post-perestroika Russia - the mythologeme of the crossing.

Russian society seemed to have entered a stormy river dividing the “Soviet past” from the “anti-Soviet future.” AND THEY DO NOT CHANGE HORSES AT THE CROSSING. The extreme nature of the situation wrote off in advance any mistakes and crimes of the ruling class (including its imposture): “we must row.” As for the trial, it would be appropriate only there, on the other side. However, the ideologists of the regime did not hesitate to say openly: if we sail, then “to the joy of such” the people will forgive us; if the Russian ship does sink, we will catch the last plane to Sheremetyevo, and there we will spend our free time writing memoirs about how we failed to save “this country” from itself... That is, the game looked like a win-win.

However, something completely unexpected happened. Namely: the “other shore” (that is, the blissful state of the completed transformation of Russian society into a “normal country” that absolutely suits everyone) never appeared. But we didn’t drown, which should, in theory, be expected. An ISLAND was discovered in the stormy waters of the Heraclitus River .

It's easy to show how we got there. After the whirlpool of 1998 , the country almost drowned - but at that moment, for the first and last time, another team of people managed to seize the steering wheel and taxied out of the whirlpool. Then the recovered Yeltsinites, pushing away the saviors of the fatherland, grabbed the helm with triple strength - but it turned out to be impossible to completely turn back to the previous direction, and they didn’t really want to. In the year 2000, the country floated into shallow waters. And now we are on an island. On a piece of land, washed up by various circumstances (including, of course, oil prices).

What is an island? The island is not land, but, thank God, it is not abyssal water. This is a place where you can’t live - but you can rest before further sailing, make supplies, get fresh water... And yes! - CHANGE HORSES, the very ones that “are not changed at the crossing.”

This is exactly what the current elite is afraid of. I emphasize: we are talking about the “ruling class” as a whole, starting with the president and ending with the already mentioned Pugacheva. They all understand that an unexpected moment of peace, so useful for Russia, could backfire on them.

Hence the convulsive desire to dive back into the life-saving waters of the next reforms as soon as possible, where the argument about horses and the crossing will work again. Even though on the island people will be able to rest at least a little and fatten up: no, they drag us into the water again, until we realized that these feeders could, taking advantage of the opportune moment, be exchanged for someone more ostentatious.