67 pages • 2 hours read
Timothy SnyderThe Road to Unfreedom: Russia, Europe, America
Nonfiction | Book | Adult | Published in 2018A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Themes
Russia’s Missed Democratic Opportunity
In Chapter 1 and 2 of The Road to Unfreedom, Snyder traces Russia’s missed democratic opportunity. During the transitional period following the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 and leading into the rise and consolidation of Vladimir Putin’s authoritarian regime, Snyder charts the trajectory of Russian politics, emphasizing the pivotal moments where democratic principles could have taken root but instead were systematically undermined by oligarchic and autocratic influences.
At the crux of this missed opportunity is the post-Soviet transition period of the 1990s. This era began with a promise of democracy as the Soviet Union disintegrated into multiple independent states, with Russia ostensibly poised to embrace democratic governance. Boris Yeltsin, the first president of the Russian Federation, introduced a series of reforms aimed at democratizing the nation and shifting the economy from planned socialism to market capitalism. However, as Snyder points out, these reforms were hastily implemented and poorly managed, leading to significant economic disparity and social unrest. In fact, as Snyder points out, there was never a clear democratic process, based on a principle of succession, in Russia, even during the transition period:
Democracy never took hold in Russia, in the sense that power never changed hands after freely contested elections. Yeltsin was president of the Russian Federation because of an election that took place when Russia was still a Soviet republic, in June 1991. Those taking part in that election were not choosing a president of an independent Russia, since no such thing yet existed. Yeltsin simply remained president after independence. To be sure, such an institutionally ambiguous claim to power was typical as the 1990s began. As the Soviet empire in eastern Europe and then the Soviet Union itself came apart, various backroom compromises, roundtable negotiations, and partly free elections generated hybrid systems of government. In other postcommunist states, free and fair presidential and parliamentary elections quickly followed. The Russian Federation managed no election that might have legitimated Yeltsin or prepared the way for a successor (43).
The principle of succession, as Snyder argues, is vital for stable democratic governance, as power is legitimately transferred through free and fair elections.
This deficiency in Russia set a precarious stage for Russian politics, since the democratic process was compromised from the outset, leading to a governance model that mixed old Soviet remnants with new oligarchic structures. This shaky foundation ultimately contributed to the rise of Vladimir Putin and the solidification of an authoritarian regime, marking a significant missed opportunity for Russian democracy. Moreover, the rapid privatization of state assets resulted in the emergence of a new class of wealthy oligarchs, who wielded enormous economic and political power. This concentration of wealth in the hands of a few distorted the economic landscape and severely compromised the nascent democratic institutions by aligning economic power with political influence.
Vladimir Putin’s ascent to power in 1999 marked a decisive turn away from the democratic hopes of the early post-Soviet years. Under Putin, the state reasserted control over major sectors of the economy, particularly energy, and media freedoms were dramatically curtailed. Snyder highlights how Putin’s regime used the guise of restoring order and national pride to justify an increasingly authoritarian governance style. By centralizing power and suppressing opposition, Putin systematically dismantled the democratic institutions that had begun to form.
This manipulation of democratic institutions is linked to the ideological influences that Snyder explores, particularly the role of Ivan Ilyin’s philosophy in shaping Putin’s vision of Russia. Ilyin, whose works were revived and popularized during Putin’s regime, advocated for a homogeneous nation led by a redeemer leader, embodying the will of the people. Snyder argues that Putin embraced Ilyin’s ideas to craft a narrative of historical destiny and national unity that positioned him as the indispensable leader. This narrative resonated with a population disenchanted by the previous decade’s chaos and without hope for a better political future.
Finally, Snyder analyzes the consequences of Russia’s missed democratic opportunity through the lens of Ukraine’s contrasting political evolution, stifled by Russia’s armed aggression in Crimea and Eastern Ukraine, starting in 2014. Snyder describes how Ukraine, despite facing similar post-Soviet challenges as Russia, embarked on a more genuinely democratic path, particularly in the wake of the 2014 Euromaidan protests. These movements, driven by widespread public engagement and a demand for accountable governance, underscore the divergent paths taken by neighboring countries that emerged from the same Soviet collapse.
The Use of Sexuality and Gender Tropes in Russia’s Strategy
In The Road to Unfreedom, Snyder presents the manipulation of sexuality and gender tropes as a strategic tool used by the Russian government to consolidate power internally and undermine democratic institutions externally. Snyder traces how Vladimir Putin’s regime has deliberately utilized narratives around sexuality and traditional gender roles to foster a nationalistic and conservative identity, which positions Russia as a defender of traditional values against a supposedly decadent West.
One of the most salient aspects of Russia’s use of sexuality and gender tropes is its alignment with the Russian Orthodox Church to promote an image of moral purity. Snyder describes how the Church became a significant ally in Putin’s effort to define Russian identity in opposition to Western liberalism. This alliance is particularly evident in the government’s stance on LGBTQ+ rights. By criminalizing homosexuality (also designated through the pejorative term “sodomy”), the Russian state restricts the rights of the LGBTQ+ community and stokes fears about Western moral corruption.
Snyder points out that this policy serves dual purposes: it appeals to conservative elements within Russia and acts as a political tool to signal a cultural and ideological demarcation from the West. Snyder also shows how homosexuality is manipulated into a designation for any foreign country or population that Russia has an aggressive stance against. For example, he points to the public figure Konstantin Malofeev’s public declarations about “sodomy”:
Known in Russia as the ‘Orthodox oligarch,’ Malofeev was an anti-sodomy activist and an outspoken Russian imperialist. In his view, ‘Ukraine is part of Russia. I can’t consider the Ukrainian people as non-Russian.’ Ukraine had to be saved by Russia from Europe because otherwise Ukrainian citizens ‘would have had to spread sodomy as a norm in traditional Ukrainian society.’ This was not true in any factual sense. Malofeev was expressing the orientation of Russian policy: to present Europe as a civilizational enemy, homosexuality as the war, and Ukraine as the battleground (135).
Thus, this strategic use of sexuality, which was pushed on official media channels incessantly, informs Russia’s foreign policy, particularly in its interactions with European countries. Moreover, by exaggerating the role of LGBTQ+ rights in European politics, the Kremlin aims to discredit European democratic and liberal values, portraying them as alien and threatening to traditional Russian values. This portrayal taps into existing societal anxieties about the erosion of traditional family structures and social norms, effectively leveraging these fears to justify Russia’s geopolitical stance against European integration and expansion.
Moreover, the gender tropes are not limited to anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric but are also evident in the hyper-masculine portrayal of Putin himself. Snyder analyzes how Putin’s public persona is carefully crafted to embody traditional masculinity. He is frequently shown engaging in physically demanding activities, which are contrasted with the Western leaders, who are often depicted as weaker and more effeminate. This image cultivation is a strategic effort to reinforce the idea of a strong, decisive leader who is capable of protecting and guiding the nation against external threats and moral decay.
The subtext here is a stark binary of strength versus weakness, where strength is aligned with traditional masculinity and Russian nationalism, while weakness is associated with Western liberalism and effeminacy. However, as Snyder points, these public displays hide a different reality:
The campaign did not depend on a factual demonstration of the heterosexuality of the Russian elite. In the previous four years, when Putin had been prime minister, Surkov had placed him in a series of fur-and-feathers photo shoots. Putin and Medvedev’s attempt to present themselves as manly friends by posing in matching whites after badminton matches was similarly unconvincing. Putin divorced his wife just as his anti-gay campaign began, leaving the champion of family values without a traditional family. The question of gender identity clung to the Russian president. In 2016, Putin asserted that he was not a woman who has bad days. In 2017, he denied that he was Donald Trump’s groom. That year it became a criminal offense to portray Putin as a gay clown. An attentive female scholar summarized his position: ‘Putin’s kisses are reserved for children and animals’ (52-53).
Snyder juxtaposes Putin’s hypermasculine facade against his private life and legislative actions that contradict the values he publicly champions. The crafted image serves to distract from deeper issues of governance and personal inconsistency. For instance, the enactment of laws that criminalize portraying Putin as a gay clown contradicts his cultivated image of heterosexual, robust leadership, reflecting an insecurity underlying the facade of strength and revealing a regime that is deeply concerned with controlling narratives and public opinions in order to maintain power.
The strategic deployment of sexuality and gender tropes in Russia’s domestic and foreign policy, as Snyder argues, serves multiple functions: it consolidates Putin’s power by rallying the population around a shared sense of threatened cultural identity (focused on traditional family values), it vilifies opponents by associating them with moral and social decay, and it manipulates international perceptions by portraying Russia as a bastion of traditional values in a world succumbing to moral relativism.
Ukraine’s Struggle for Democracy
One of the main themes in The Road to Unfreedom and in Snyder’s work in general is Ukraine’s tumultuous journey toward democracy amidst external aggression and internal corruption. Snyder analyzes the geopolitical maneuvers of Russia and highlights the resilience of Ukrainian civil society, as well as its persistent struggle for democratic governance. Snyder’s examination touches on how Ukraine’s democratic aspirations have been continually challenged by both historical legacies and contemporary pressures.
At the heart of Ukraine’s democratic struggle, as Snyder outlines, is its effort to establish a sovereign state free from the influence of its powerful neighbor, Russia. This struggle intensified in 2013 and 2014 during the Euromaidan protests, which originally began in response to President Viktor Yanukovych’s sudden decision to reject a closer association with the EU in favor of stronger ties with Russia. The protests, fueled by widespread discontent with governmental corruption and the influence of oligarchs, quickly escalated into a broader movement demanding political reform and the affirmation of Ukraine’s European aspirations. Snyder captures the spirit of Maidan as not only a demand for alignment with Europe but as a profound call for genuine democratic reforms.
Snyder points out that the Euromaidan protests exemplified a significant moment in Ukraine’s democratic journey. They were a clear rejection of the systemic corruption that had plagued Ukraine since its independence. The movement was characterized by a remarkable display of civic unity that transcended linguistic and regional divides, suggesting a maturing of Ukraine’s national identity around democratic principles.
One of the elements that Snyder provides as evidence for a robust civic society was the grassroots form of organization that provided a parallel structure to the corrupt one of the institutions. This structure was fueled by pure solidarity and generosity:
The economy of the Maidan was one of gift. In its first few days, as Natalya Stelmakh recalled, the people of Kyiv gave with extraordinary generosity: ‘Within two days other volunteers and I were able to collect in hryvnia the equivalent of about $40,000 in cash from simple residents of Kyiv.’ She remembered trying and failing to prevent an elderly pensioner from donating half of a monthly check. Aside from donations in cash, people provided food, clothes, wood, medications, barbed wire, and helmets. A visitor would be surprised to find deep order amidst apparent chaos, and realize that what seemed at first like extraordinary hospitality was in fact a spontaneous welfare state. The Polish political activist Sławomir Sierakowski was duly impressed: ‘You walked through the Maidan and you are presented with food, clothing, a place to sleep, and medical care’ (129-30).
This grassroots mobilization, as detailed by Snyder, formed a civic structure that functioned remarkably well. It was a powerful demonstration of civic engagement and the potential for a collective effort to enact social change. The Maidan became a microcosm of the society Ukrainians aspired to create, one based on fairness, mutual respect, and communal support.
However, the path to democracy was fraught with challenges. Following the ousting of Yanukovych in February 2014, Russia annexed Crimea and instigated conflicts in the eastern regions of Donetsk and Luhansk, significantly destabilizing Ukraine. Snyder explores how these actions were justified through a Russian narrative that painted Ukraine as a nation incapable of self-governance, purportedly necessitating Russian intervention. This narrative, steeped in historical revisionism and disinformation, aimed to undermine Ukraine’s democratic process and justify Russia’s actions on the international stage.
Snyder also critically assesses the role of international actors in Ukraine’s democratic journey. He argues that while Western support, particularly from the EU and the US, has been crucial in encouraging Ukraine’s efforts, it has sometimes been inconsistent and fraught with its own geopolitical calculations. This external support has been essential in providing a counterbalance to Russian aggression.
Overall, Snyder suggests that Ukraine’s fight for democracy is emblematic of a larger global battle against the forces of authoritarianism and illiberalism. The country’s ongoing resilience in the face of hybrid warfare and political subversion is a testament to the strength of democratic ideals.
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