What Was the Soviet Union?
Owen Hatherly sits down with historian Sheila Fitzpatrick to discuss how her work challenged orthodox understandings of the USSR — how its dissolution shaped the politics of modern-day Russia and the former socialist republics.
- Interview by
- Owen Hatherley
Since the 1960s, the Australian historian Sheila Fitzpatrick has devoted her career to trying to understand the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics — what it was, how it worked, and what it meant. Her work, based always on close reading of the archives, was at the forefront of an unofficial ‘revisionist’ school of social historians. We talked to her about her new Shortest History of the Soviet Union, about the Soviet Union’s unexpected collapse, about socialism and boredom, and finally about the war in Ukraine and the battle over the ownership of the Soviet past.
I wanted to start by asking about your relationship with the Left — both the influence of your father, the socialist journalist Brian Fitzpatrick and also, as a young historian in the 1960s, the influence on you of your mentor, the old Bolshevik writer and editor Igor Sats.
Fathers as much as mentors — Igor was also a father figure as well as a mentor. I saw them as similar, but in my mind they probably figured as dissidents. Igor was not what was called a dissident in the Soviet Union because he was a critic from within the system, but in a broader sense one could regard him as somebody who was always ‘agin the government’, like my father. It interested me, the comparison between what that meant in the two systems, because it was a somewhat heroic role in the Soviet Union — it was a given that you were on the side of right. There was a sense that that was a matter of bravery, whereas in Australia you might try to cultivate a heroic mode, but the people around you only thought it was a bit ridiculous.
But I wanted to find out what the Soviet Union was like. On the Left, they hoped it was good, but they didn’t know anything. And on the Right, they hoped and affirmed that it was bad but also didn’t know that much. So, I was really curious to know — what can this be like?
I also ask because some of your books are very much examples of ‘history from below’, writing about everyday life and about class in the Soviet Union — but you’ve also kept your distance from some of the Marxist approaches to Soviet history.
When I went to America, I got involved in arguments about the ‘totalitarian’ model, because of what I saw as inbuilt political bias. In other words, once you call something totalitarian, you have explained that it was bad. I started to object on principle as a historian to the idea that anything can be run fully from above. It then became interesting to think about what was going on below, so I decided to try and write social history, which nobody was doing at that point.
Labour history was very important for Marxist historians of the Soviet Union, such as Moshe Lewin, Ronald Grigor Suny, and Diane P. Koenker, and they felt that labour history had a peculiar importance in the Soviet context because, after all, the power had been taken on behalf of the workers. Now, from the work I did on education, I became interested in the question of social mobility, because I couldn’t understand the phenomenon of ‘proletarian preference’, a term which is in all the educational materials. I battled and battled to try and work out what it was. Finally, I decided it was ‘affirmative action’ on behalf of workers, but also on behalf of minorities, small nationalities, women, and so on. So, I developed this picture of what happened to the promise of the revolution — not so much a nice, straightforward betrayal, à la Trotsky, of the working class, but rather delivering that promise in a way that no theoretically literate Marxist could accept. In other words, saying ‘what we’re offering workers is upward mobility’.
So why a Shortest History of the Soviet Union, and why now?
Because of the extremely interesting phenomenon of its collapse — unpredicted by everybody. From the point of view of being a Soviet historian, there was a completely unexpected shift in perspective — the ground moved under you when it turned out that what you were writing about was not an ongoing thing like you had assumed, like it or not, but it was a finite thing. It was an episode. Once it’s an episode, it’s got a birth and a death, it’s got a life story. I was interested to see what the shape of that life story would be.
I was very struck by the way the Soviet Union broke up, which is that the leaders of the republics took their republics out. Now that’s interesting, as it runs counter to the natural story, which is ‘the oppressed people of the Soviet Union rose up and overthrew their rulers’. Given that the leaders of the republics led them out, it became clear to me that republican and regional leaders ought to have been a lot more present in my picture of how the Soviet Union was run.
The Shortest History has a lot of very tart and condensed judgements, and one of those that surprised me was a relatively sympathetic account of the Brezhnev years from 1964 to 1982, which were once considered a disaster, but since 1991 have been the years those ‘nostalgic for the USSR’ are actually nostalgic for.
Well, of course, there’s retrospect there making it look better. I experienced that era as somebody who was going to the Soviet Union for a couple of weeks to a couple of months, more or less every year, right through it. What was particularly striking was that it was stable to the point of tremendous boredom. And secondly, this extremely boring person goes around saying basically we’ve done everything, we’ve achieved ‘developed socialism’, or ‘really existing socialism’, or whatever. What interested me there is that if you make a checklist, that’s not such a wildly ridiculous claim, but certainly anybody with an emotional investment in socialism is likely to feel it’s a parody.
I suppose one can look differently now at that idea of an achieved socialism being very boring. During the first Covid lockdown I ended up binge-watching all those Brezhnev-era comedies on the Mosfilm YouTube channel — like Eldar Ryazanov’s Office Romance and so on — precisely because it was so calming to watch this picture of a society where practically nothing happens.
They were nice films as well. They didn’t make great demands on you. You’re right. I suppose I like ironic outcomes — that a revolution that started with such passionate conviction should end up in that. But I didn’t put that there to annoy socialists; it’s something that I also think is partly true.
Another thing that comes up in the book is the degree to which you’d describe the USSR as a colonial system, or an empire, given the importance of the non-Russian republics and their leadership. Currently a lot of people have fastened on colonialism as a way of explaining the Soviet system and its legacies, but the Shortest History is quite ambiguous about this.
Again, the fact of the Soviet Union’s collapse and that it separated into its national republics does appear to impose an imperial and colonial frame on it. But the term ‘empire’ was not used really at all — except on the right in American Sovietology — until the collapse of the Soviet Union. Then suddenly everybody, including on the Left, is talking about it as an empire because of the feeling it must have been an empire if it could break up into constituent parts. I’m not taking a position that ‘no, it wasn’t’; I’m just trying to point out that’s a bit complicated. First of all, empire, at least in a Marxist sense, is meant to describe an exploitative relationship, where the metropolis is meant to be profiting at the expenses of the colonial peripheries. It is by no means clear that this happened. In fact, I think that was not the case, at any rate latterly in the Soviet Union. I don’t really know how much it would stand up earlier. If you think about investment during the first and second Five Year Plans in the late 1920s and early 1930s, for example, there’s a lot of investment outside the heartland.
If anything, one factor behind the breakup of the USSR was people in the Russian Federation complaining about ‘subsidising’ Central Asia.
Russians felt that very strongly, rightly or wrongly. I would have been quite surprised to hear it at first but in the eighties it became more or less common currency, and that’s partly because Russian nationalism increases among the writers and so on. ‘We are subsidising all kinds of people, we’re subsidising those Central Asians, we’re subsidising the Eastern Europeans, and what do we get out of it? Are they grateful? No.’ The initial reaction to the breakup of the Soviet Union — this is impressionistically based on things people were saying — was that it’s very bad and very regrettable, but on the other hand, it does take a burden off Russia.
And the Belovezh Accords that ended the Soviet Union in December 1991 were a unilateral act by the three Slavic Republics, Belarus, Russia, and Ukraine, without consulting the Central Asian or Caucasian leaderships at all — just, ‘Right, you’re independent now.’
I don’t think they even let them know.
In Ukraine obviously this is especially complex because of how different the experience of the system, and especially of the war, was in the newly annexed western regions of Soviet Ukraine and in the rest of the country.
No, absolutely. But the war is the making of the Ukrainian nation, finally, and on top of that, it’s a multinational nation, with Russian Ukrainians being bombed just like any ethnic Ukrainians.
What did you make of Putin’s speech, where he blamed Lenin for the creation of Ukraine, as this kind of fake gerrymandered state aimed at weakening Russia?
I read the comments in the press about how that argument of Putin’s was self-evidently ridiculous. But there’s a certain relation to reality in the sense that that was the first stable Ukrainian state in more or less the boundaries now — not counting Western Ukraine, which gets added later — created by the Bolsheviks, and no doubt in part for the reasons that Putin is suggesting. After all, they were very anti–Russian chauvinism. Putin’s attitude to Lenin is, of course, interesting in that most Russians who like Stalin like Lenin too. I can’t really think of anybody else who takes a position that is more or less pro-Stalin but is anti-Lenin. And on quite rational grounds. I mean, Lenin is the nation-destroyer, right? And then Stalin is the nation-builder.