The dissolution of the Soviet Union thirty years ago was celebrated by some as the victory of democracy and the West in the Cold War. Inside the former USSR, it produced more mixed feelings. Some met it with euphoria and anticipation that the decades-long isolation from the rest of the world and limits on personal freedoms had come to an end and that democracy and civil liberties would be forthcoming in the former republics. Others celebrated the (re-) establishment of independent nation states. Yet for others, the Soviet collapse came unexpectedly and left them apprehensive and fearful of an uncertain future. The subsequent 3,000% inflation and the political turmoil of the 1990s left many nostalgic for the seemingly stable and secure Soviet times.
The International Institute for Peace, jointly with the Konrad Adenauer Foundation for Multilateral Dialogue, the Vienna Institute for International Economic Studies, and the Institute for Danube Region and Central Europe, organised a conference to look at the former Soviet states, how they have transformed in the last three decades, and whether one can still include the countries in this increasingly diverse region under the same umbrella of ‘the post-Soviet space’.
This last question has been regularly posed at every anniversary conference dedicated to the breakup of the USSR, and it did not decrease in relevance this year either. Is there still a post-Soviet space? And if so, what are its characteristics?
The Soviet legacy arguably includes particular governance and socio-economic structures of which traces are still present in the former Soviet republics’ state systems. A common (post-) Soviet mentality is still referred to when one speaks about certain political leadership styles, usually with an authoritarian tilt. As the world is evolving in increasingly unpredictable ways and as generations change, there is an increasing need to rethink and re-evaluate major upheavals in recent history.
For some, the Soviet period evokes nostalgia, while for others, individual and collective traumas. For the majority, it is perhaps a mixture of both. However, throughout the former Soviet states, a balanced approach towards history is often lacking. Unfortunately, in many cases, the past is being reinterpreted to fit the current political context – a dangerous exercise, especially considering the multiple conflicts in the region.
Take Russia, for example. The positive image of the Soviet Union is increasingly protected by the state, especially when it comes to World War II. The rehabilitation of Nazism has been a criminal offence since 2014, along with the ‘public dissemination of ‘knowingly false information’ about the activities of the USSR during the Second World War’. The ‘right’ interpretation of history is used for political purposes. Voices critical of the Soviet regime are being silenced today, including the ongoing process of shutting down Memorial –the oldest and most reputable human rights organization in the country which has systematically collected data on repressions and crimes perpetrated by the Soviet state.
The fall of the Soviet empire (and one might argue, the Russian empire before that) signified a reduction in Russia’s international status – something that the ruling elites have been trying to compensate for in past years. The annexation of Crimea, in the words of one political observer, is a case of applied nostalgia about Russia’s imperial past.
In Ukraine ‘memory politics’ have been no less controversial, but with the opposite charge. Decommunization laws introduced in 2015 prohibited, among other things, Communist propaganda and symbols and criminalized both Nazi and Communist totalitarian regimes. This very broad-in-scope and insufficiently precise legislation was criticized in a joint report by the Venice Commission and the OSCE[1]. While decommunization laws were adopted earlier in other countries of Central and Eastern Europe, in Ukraine they were introduced in a very specific political context as a retaliation to Russia’s military involvement in the Donbas and its annexation of Crimea. They were not an attempt to honestly re-evaluate history but were rather meant to serve the current political needs of the ruling elite.
The question of how ‘post-Soviet’ the countries in question still are is relevant for Belarus as well – once deemed the most ’Soviet’ former republic of all. Aliaksandar Lukashenka came to power in 1994 by embracing this ‘Sovietness’ of Belarusians. Unlike many other states that rejected the USSR as an oppressor in order to construct their national identities, in Belarus it became a major building bloc thereof. The country had only had a very limited experience of independent statehood prior to the Soviet period, and becoming a separate republic within the USSR was one of the founding sources of national identity. The complete delegitimization of Lukashenka’s regime after the 2020 presidential elections has thrown into question this narrative. It is still to be seen in what ways the civic movement of 2020 and the ongoing repressions and state violence will shape Belarusian society and its self-perception. It is, however, certain that the Soviet past will be embraced less enthusiastically.
In Georgia – the birthplace of Stalin – the dominant narrative among the elites is anti-Soviet, although, according to a recent poll, approximately the same number of Georgians welcome the USSR’s collapse as regret it[2]. Georgia is ambitious about EU integration but is still struggling with elite corruption and a lack of rule of law. It proudly asserts its European identity and speaks not simply of ‘joining’ Europe but ‘returning’ to it. The Baltic states, which ‘returned’ to Europe in 2004, see the Soviet period as an illegal occupation and reject entirely any categorization as ‘post-Soviet’ states.
Looking further to the East, Central Asia represents yet another model of development in the post-Cold War world. The region is still tied to Russia in security terms. There is also significant economic dependence due to remittances of migrants from the region working in Russia. At the same time, economic cooperation with China is growing and the debate about the region’s own integration project (as opposed to joining the Russia-led Eurasian Economic Union) is being discussed.
Ultimately, one can argue that the post-Soviet space still exists due to Russia’s perception of the area as such and Moscow’s policies stemming from this perception. Russia has considered the countries in question (except for the Baltics) as within its legitimate sphere of influence, where Moscow-led initiatives are bound to dominate (EUAEU, CIS, CSTO, and others). However, if we consider the role of perception, is it indeed only the Russian approach that guides the geopolitical dynamics and domestic developments in this region? The very fact that identities and political discourses in many former Soviet republics are still largely shaped by their relation to the Soviet legacy and Russia’s role therein (whether by embracing it or rejecting it) indicates that these countries themselves have not come to terms with the past and cannot move beyond this duality.
Conversely, Moldova represents one promising case here. By electing a party that put a domestic reform agenda above geopolitical preferences at the center of its electoral program, the country has overcome (at least for the time being) the seemingly inevitable geopolitical choice between Russia and the West. If the government manages to deliver on reforms and strengthen societal support for them, this might set a precedent for a qualitative shift in democratic transition in a former Soviet state.
Where does this discussion leave us? What space or spaces should we discuss today? If not post-Soviet, should one speak about Eurasian, Central Asian, European, Baltic, and Caucasian regions? How should we account for the influence and greater ties of the countries in question with actors such as China, Turkey, and the European Union? What issues should be discussed at all? Are the region’s dormant conflicts to be forgotten? Will new ones face the same fate?
Old challenges are exacerbated by new ones. Environmental degradation creates new interdependencies and potential conflicts; aging populations require a thorough restructuring and strengthening of social welfare systems; the growing population in weak economies means youth unemployment, emigration, and the loss of human capital; digitalization comes with its own opportunities and dangers, especially in political systems that lack public accountability. The pandemic has transformed our way of life enormously, and we are only beginning to understand its consequences.
With all these complexities and diversity in mind, why discuss the post-Soviet space at all, especially in Austria and the European Union in general? One of the reasons is domestic. A part of this space – the Baltics - is now part of the EU. Several former Soviet countries also border the EU and thus can have a very direct impact on EU members’ domestic situations. A sad case in point is the ongoing migrant crisis on the EU-Belarusian border.
Secondly, one ambition of the EU as a project has been enlargement. The founding treaties state that any European country can become a member of the Union. Some former Soviet countries – Georgia, Moldova, and Ukraine – have expressed such aspirations. Even if an outright membership perspective is remote for them, they are already deeply integrated with the EU through free trade agreements and are implementing reforms to further adjust to EU legal standards and institutional practices.
Thirdly, Russia is a major geopolitical actor on the European continent. Economic, cultural, and people-to-people contacts have been maintained with Russia throughout centuries. In addition, it a source of the EU’s energy security.
Central Asia seems more remote geographically, but it is no less important if the EU wants to fulfill its geopolitical ambitions and achieve strategic autonomy.
Ultimately, it is through constant dialogue and efforts to understand ourselves and our neighbors that security and stability can be preserved in Europe. As Albert Einstein once put it: “Peace cannot be kept by force. It can only be achieved by understanding.”
[1] Maria Mälksoo (9.01.018). ‘Decommunization in times of war: Ukraine’s militant democracy problem’. Verfassungsblog. Available at:
https://verfassungsblog.de/decommunization-in-times-of-war-ukraines-militant-democracy-problem/
[2] In Thomas de Waal (2020). ‘The toxic memory politics in the post-Soviet Caucasus’ in
Constructions and Instrumentalization of the Past. CBEES State of the region report. Available at: http://www.diva-portal.org/smash/get/diva2:1523899/FULLTEXT01.pdf
Marylia Hushcha is a Research Assistant at the International Institute for Peace in Vienna and is a board member of Think Tank Ponto. She previously worked at Pontis Foundation in Slovakia, where she managed a capacity-building project for NGOs in Russia. Marylia has completed training and fellowship programmes at the United Nations Office in Belarus, the European Academy of Diplomacy in Warsaw, and the University of San Diego. She holds a Master’s degree in European Studies from Comenius University in Bratislava.