How Russians can redeem themselves morally

The Russian people’s record with respect to Vladimir Putin, his fascist regime, and its imperialist-genocidal policies isn’t exactly stellar. About three-quarters have actively supported the man and his misdeeds for more than two decades. Theirs are sins of commission. Except for some large demonstrations, the remaining quarter has preferred to look the other way, staying mum while Putin dismantled democracy, flexed his muscles abroad, and created the illusion of prosperity. Theirs are sins of omission. A few had the moral backbone to oppose the regime. They are saints.

The French philosopher Joseph de Maistre claimed that “every nation has the government it deserves.” Russia, alas, appears to be a case in point.

Despite these pessimistic conclusions, no nation is fated to damnation and no nation is morally unregenerate — unless, of course, it does nothing to stop its descent into hell. So, too, the Russians are redeemable, if they redeem themselves.

Ideally, the Russian people would have embarked on the path of moral regeneration on Feb. 23, a day before Putin’s obedient troops invaded and subsequently raped Ukraine. Opposition to the war would have been an ethically motivated choice. Instead, the vast majority supported the war and may still support it.

Today, the war has come home. In yet another strategic blunder of the first magnitude, Putin decided it would be a good idea to mobilize up to 1 million men who hitherto had led their lives as passive onlookers. In an instant, Putin made all Russian men — as well as all Russian women and children — active participants in a bloody enterprise with no purpose.

Several hundred thousand Russian men immediately headed for the exits — not so much in protest against the war as in protest against their dying in the war. Their families and relatives shared their outrage. With one idiotic move, Putin ensured that Russians would mobilize, but against his regime. Neither Washington nor Kyiv could have done a better job.

Increasingly, Russians are beginning to see the light: The war is criminal, Putin is a thug, and the Russian people made it all possible. Redemption, finally, is in sight.

What should Russians do to save their souls from themselves?

For starters, they need to state clearly, to the world, that they have sinned by enabling Putin and supporting his crimes, and that they seek redemption. Deeply ingrained religious traditions related to crime, guilty consciences and punishment will help, but atonement won’t be easy; it will entail opposing the Russian Orthodox Church and its patriarch, who has sided with the “devil.” Russians will need to seek forgiveness outside their own religious institutions, practices, and customs.

The truth and reconciliation commissions introduced by South Africa after the fall of apartheid suggest how Russians might proceed. They will need to tell the world — and Ukrainians, above all — that they have committed terrible crimes of commission and omission, ask for forgiveness, and are ready to atone by providing reparations to the victims of genocide and war. As in the past, Russia’s cultural and intellectual elites — the intelligentsia — will have to show the way. The operatic diva Anna Netrebko, for example, could do better than her lukewarm condemnation of the war in March, while conductor Valery Gergiev has refused to do even that. Both could set an example by loudly, ostentatiously, and publicly condemning the regime. As Russian superstars, they have nothing to fear from the regime.

This first step is essential; anything less than a full confession will smack of insincerity and suggest that Russians share Putin’s maniacal goals, while disagreeing only about means.

The next step involves a godsend from Putin: mobilization. Russian men must continue to escape the draft, but with even greater vigor. Those who can go abroad should go abroad. Those who cannot should hide in distant towns or villages where police supervision is less intrusive and a ruble goes a long way. Flight and concealment mean hardship, but hardship is surely preferable to a lonely death in the steppes of southern Ukraine.

Russian women have a different task. They must mobilize and demonstrate in the manner of rebellious women in other countries. Russian pots can be as easily banged as Argentinean pans. Fascist police happily gun down men; for whatever reasons, they rarely turn their weapons on women. The demonstrations must be large and long-lasting; and they must take place in every city, town and village in Russia.

If mass disobedience sweeps the country, the forces of coercion will be helpless and the Putin regime will not survive. His successor will be hard-pressed to pursue the same policies that brought Putin to an inglorious end. Peace might then be possible. So, too, might something resembling democracy. Most importantly, Russians will have shown Ukrainians, the world, and themselves that they are sentient human beings with souls and not killing machines.

Alternatively, if Russians fail to opt for redemption, they will deserve all the opprobrium recently voiced by the popular singer, Alla Pugacheva: “My God! What happiness to be hated by the people whom I always could not stand. If they liked me, it would mean that I sang and lived in vain. The reason is clear. Let them grind their teeth. THEY WERE SERFS; BECAME SLAVES.”

Alexander J. Motyl is a professor of political science at Rutgers University-Newark. A specialist on Ukraine, Russia and the USSR, and on nationalism, revolutions, empires and theory, he is the author of 10 books of nonfiction, as well as “Imperial Ends: The Decay, Collapse, and Revival of Empires” and “Why Empires Reemerge: Imperial Collapse and Imperial Revival in Comparative Perspective.”