Tackling the Rise of Intelligentsia Radicalism

The spontaneous, mass boycott of the national census is the latest reminder that the appearance of social calm and political stability in Russia possesses all the qualities of the proverbial Potemkin village. The gulf between the ruling elite's claims to being in charge and the reality of desperation and discontent in society is a potentially explosive source of trouble.

By almost every social indicator -- poverty, inequality, demographics, health care, the cost of labor and the value of human capital -- post-Soviet Russia clearly belongs to the global periphery. Official statistics, while grim by themselves (for example, 47 million, or a third of the population, are living below the poverty line), give an incomplete picture of what is going on in reality.

The official poverty level in Russia is set below $2 per day, much lower than internationally defined levels for poverty in transition economies. Meanwhile, no other Third World government expends so much of its resources for the sake of being accepted as "an equal" by the global elite and in order to further its ambitions of serving as a bulwark of the international status quo, while at the same time caring so little about its shrinking population.

Yet another of Russia's sad distinctions is the inordinate proportion of educated and skilled people among those stricken by poverty and excluded from productive activities by the monopolistic and oligarchical structure of the economy.

The problem is particularly acute for those aged between 25 and 40 who did not belong to the Soviet Party nomenklatura and therefore have insufficient connections in the post-Soviet establishment to get on. The critical period of their education and professional development was shaped and often crippled by the collapse of the Soviet Union and the spirit of the "Big Grab" -- the seizure of the nation's assets by the former Soviet ruling elite in its rush to catch up at whatever cost, in wealth and consumption patterns, with the super-rich in the West.

And while Western governments, international financial institutions and foundations have been feeding the elite's sense of entitlement by cash infusions, some of Russia's best and brightest have been left to starve.

Russia's de-industrialization and its growing dependency on the export of natural resources has contributed to a situation in which millions of people -- from scholars and engineers to young military officers and highly skilled industrial workers -- find themselves hopelessly overqualified for most income-generating activities.

Even a menial job with a Western company pays better than academia or a career in the public sector. Having been trained for the needs of an advanced industrial power, Russia's most valuable human capital is nowadays treated by its government as junk and consigned to living on subsistence-level salaries. While many of those who built their careers in Soviet times were able to survive the 1990s by living off their Soviet-era inheritance (i.e. vegetable plots, etc.), their children and grandchildren are not thrilled by this option. And many from the younger generations are being driven to the point where they may have nothing to lose from overt confrontation with the system.

As another electoral season approaches, the Communists are -- surprise, surprise -- leading in the polls yet again, despite their well-publicized internal divisions and the ineptness of their leadership. Since all other left-of-center opposition has been silenced, co-opted or prevented from coalescing, Communist affiliation has become virtually coterminous with any discontent with the system.

And, contrary to pundits' predictions, while older generations are dying out, the pool of protest voters and potential leaders is not diminishing commensurately, but rather expanding. (A case in point is the rise of a new generation of politicians such as Sergei Glazyev, the economist and State Duma deputy, who would be a natural leader for a European-style social democratic opposition were it allowed to exist in Russia.)

Dispossessed youths, often with a college education and advanced degrees, are filling the ranks of protest voters, while others, having lost faith in Russia's quasi-democratic electoral system, are embracing more radical right and left-wing ideologies and organizations, often with violent agendas. Those from my generation who 10 years ago were rallying against the old system are now saying: "It turns out that by voting for the reformers and going to the barricades in August 1991 we were supporting our own unemployment, humiliation and hunger."

"Nobody reads, nobody cares" is the proud motto that I repeatedly hear in response from people in and around the presidential administration. They are unimpressed by the prospect of mass radicalism, having an unshakable belief in the people's patience and in the efficiency of the machinery of repression -- a part of the Soviet state apparatus that has been strengthened in recent years and is well-oiled, due not least to the keen interest of the new economic elites in its efficient functioning.

There is no serious government policy of job creation -- moreover, the powerful domestic interests that dictate government policy apparently prefer to see "overqualified" people being pushed into the shadow economy, where there are no rules and the cost of labor is infinitesimal.

The international business and policy-making communities, however, should not be so shortsighted as their Russian counterparts -- especially given the dramatic increase in anti-American sentiment that is becoming one of the defining features of world politics. However difficult in today's economic climate, the creation of decently paid jobs for the educated and skilled is the only serious solution to the problem. In the absence of the domestic political will or capacity to act, those Russians and Westerners who understand the danger should convince the enlightened part of the international business community and agencies working in Russia (and pressure the rest of them) to undertake something akin to an affirmative action program.

Corporations operating in the intellectual centers across the country should open their doors -- with foreign government and development agencies' support -- to educated Russians from different academic backgrounds. They should be invited to supplement their professional work with part-time research and analysis, consulting, editing, interpreting or whatever, and given the chance to learn how to work in a business environment. This would give them the opportunity of either integrating themselves into the corporate world or returning to full-time academic positions after a year or two, having broadened their horizons and secured the possibility of joining the middle classes.

While specific arrangements would depend on individual skills and the needs of the company in question, the crucial prerequisite is that corporations perceive this as a strategic investment and as an insurance policy (for themselves and for the international community at large) against hostility, radicalism and potential violence. This would be a better insurance policy than the strong hand of a regime run by a reformed KGB.

Granted, as long as the downward spiral in the world economy persists and visionary political leadership is not in sight, this proposal has a low probability of being adopted. But nonetheless, it is worth putting on the table before the Western business community and initiating a dialogue, as the highly probable alternative is that younger sections of the intelligentsia will drift further in a radical anti-capitalist and anti-Western direction.