Like all of you, I’m sure, I have been watching the events unfolding in Ukraine all week with the greatest attention. And, also like all of you, I’ve been surprised over and over in the course of these last days. Who would have thought countries like Sweden, Finland, and especially (time a million) Switzerland would abandon their former inability to join the West in anything that could even slightly irritate Russia to take serious, meaningful steps to help the beleaguered Ukrainians? Who would have expected our own government to shake off its doldrums and spearhead what so far feels like a remarkably successful effort to inflict maximal economic and commercial damage on the Russians and thereby, at least theoretically, eventually to dissuade them from pushing forward with the conquest of Ukraine? Watching China and even Israel—both of whom are so traditionally eager not to step on Russian toes—speaking out, respectively, vaguely and less vaguely on the side of Ukraine—that also came as a huge surprise to me. So it’s been a week of surprises that I’ve watched parade past me when I’ve been ensconced in Joan’s shiva room at her father’s assisted-living facility for long enough to peruse the news on my phone. (For non-Shelter Rockers, my wonderful mother-in-law died last Shabbat and we’ve been here in Toronto since Sunday for her funeral and shiva week. May her memory be a blessing for us all.)
As always, I try to respond to current events
by setting them in their historical context. Is Putin a latter-day Hitler
trying to swallow up as many of the neighbors as he can without caring if
anyone does or doesn’t believe whatever fig-leaf justification he offers up to
justify his actions and only having begun with Ukraine, just as Hitler
only began with the Sudetenland? Or does he see himself more as a
latter-day Lincoln, looking south and attempting to bring back into the union a
seditiously self-proclaimed rogue state led by the political heirs of the rebels
who wrongly and illegally chose to jump ship when the Soviet Union collapsed in
1991? I admit that comparing Putin to Lincoln seems beyond exaggerated. But is
that only because I—we—consider the nation that declared its independence in
the summer of 1776 to have been a true union, a “real” nation, that the South
was treacherously betraying by attempting to go its own way—and thus nothing
like the USSR, which was—at best—an archipelago of serf-states held in place by
the brute force brought to bear by the only “real” country in the union, the
Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic (or, as it was earlier and later
called, “just” Russia)?
It’s a more complicated question than it sounds
like at first. Putin himself is clearly a complex mixture of things: part schoolyard
bully, part oligarch, part Caesar, part self-labelled patriot, and part
gangster. I’m sure people with far more extensive grounding than myself in
Russian history will find all sorts of themes from Russian history echoing
through his rhetoric and his actions (and particularly his actions of this last
week). But to me there are three central ghosts hovering over Putin as he
pursues this policy of naked aggression towards Ukraine and each, a bit like the
angels in Angels in America (and especially the one played by Emma
Thompson in the HBO miniseries), guides the action forward without actually
playing a role personally in the way the drama unfolds.
The first ghost is that of Ivan the Terrible. (The word “terrible” is not at all right, by the way. The Russian word grozniy means “formidable” or “fearsome,” not terrible in the way the word is used in modern English.) Ivan was the first of the czars, the grand prince of Moscow who, in 1547 proclaimed himself “Czar of All Russia.” It was a carefully chosen title: the Russian word tsar (usually written “czar” in English, or “tsar”) is merely the Russian equivalent of the Latin word Caesar, just in the same way that Kaiser is the German version of that word. And it was a latter-day Caesar that Ivan set out to accomplish the twin foreign-policy initiatives of his years in power: the effort to make Russia safe from the so-called Golden Horde (as the huge Mongol empire to the east was called) and the parallel effort to gain access for Russia to the Baltic Sea regardless of what countries lay in the way. He accomplished the first of these two initiatives, extending Russian control as far east as the Urals and as far south as the Caspian Sea (and thus creating a huge buffer zone between Russia and the Mongol Empire). But he was unsuccessful in his attempt to colonize and annex Lithuania, in those days the sole gateway to the Baltic for Russia. Still, by rejecting the Russian words for “king” or “emperor” and choosing instead to be known as czar, he was signaling—and not especially subtly—that he viewed Russia’s place in his world as something akin to Rome’s place in its, which is to say as the central state of a giant empire and as anything but a nation among nations.
And the third ghost is the specter of Catherine
II, called Catherine the Great, who became empress of all Russia upon the death
of her peculiar husband, Peter III, and who remained on the throne until her
own death in 1796. Catharine saw herself as the “real” successor to Peter the
Great. And Russia dramatically expanded under her reign—conquering Poland and
then giving away parts of it to Austria and Prussia. She went to war with
Turkey and won, securing the entire northern shore of the Black Sea for Russia.
(This is basically where Ukraine is today.) And she also seized the Crimea in
1783, making it part of Russia. To learn more, I recommend Robert K. Massie’s
book, Catherine the Great: Portrait of a Woman, which I enjoyed
immensely, as did I also his biography of Peter the Great, called Peter the
Great: His Life and World. Both volumes are still in print and available as
e-books. The best biography of Ivan the Terrible is probably the one by Isabel
de Madariaga, published by Yale University Press in 2006.
In lifetimes of none of the above did Ukraine
exist as an independent state. In other words, Putin’s ghosts did not conquer
Ukraine because there was no such place: once the Russian Empire existed with
its czars and czarinas at the helm, it simply went without saying that the
territory that is today independent Ukraine was part of the empire. And that, I
think, is the world the ghosts hovering over Putin’s head are urging him to
recreate, one in which Russia, the largest nation in Europe (and by far—although
Ukraine is second-largest), takes its rightful place as leader of the lesser
and smaller nations of Europe, which position of natural power and influence it
is being prevented from assuming by the efforts of NATO and the European Union,
and by the efforts of our own nation as well, to draw Ukraine away from Russia
and to make of it an independent nation in the Western style with ties to the
other nations of the world, and Russia among them, that are suggestive not of
Ukrainian subservience or servility but of Ukrainian sovereignty, autonomy, and
independence.
Where all this will end, who knows? The
Russians, it has already become clear, can only lose by winning: having to
occupy a gigantic vassal state that will remain openly hostile is not what the
Russians can want, but neither—and even more horrifying—would be the specter of
actually losing the war they’ve begun and having to retreat. The Ukrainians
have played their hand well so far, doing precisely what it took to win the
support and admiration of the world. President Zelenskyy has shown himself to
be brave, clever, and—crucially—photogenic and appealing. (The man is a trained
performer, after all!) The Russian government will not collapse under the
weight of criticism levelled against it by the entire rest of the world. But
becoming a pariah state can’t have been Putin’s plan either. Perhaps the man
needs to look up one last time and see the specters hiding just behind Ivan,
Peter, and Catherine—the specters of the emperors of Rome (the real Caesars, after
all) who chose to conquer and rule the world only for their empire to collapse
in on itself when the weight of the world’s loathing simply became too heavy
for it to bear.
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