Man is a rational animal, and he is much more. He is also an emotional animal and a spiritual animal. Fortunately or unfortunately, the emotionalism of the individual has a corollary in the emotionalism of the tribe. Nations have feelings, and feelings are more fundamental than ideology.
Successful politicians exploit emotional issues. A nation's electoral process is emotion-driven. If all nations felt the same, then all electoral contests in all countries would involve the same tactics. Consider the differences between American and Russian presidential politics. Russian President Vladimir Putin and American President George W. Bush are seeking reelection this year. But they do not seek popularity in the same way.
American presidential candidates talk about money and welfare programs. They talk about job creation and quality of life issues. In Russia the leading candidate for president recently gave a televised "campaign speech" in which he said: "The breakup of the Soviet Union is a national tragedy on an enormous scale." He explained that the Soviet breakup only benefited the nationalist elites of the outlying Soviet republics. "I think that ordinary citizens of the former Soviet Union and the post-Soviet space gained nothing from this. On the contrary, people have faced a huge number of problems." Vladimir Putin then added, "We cannot only look back and curse about this issue. We must look forward."
A few days after making these statements on national television, the Russian president personally led a large military exercise simulating a nuclear war with the United States. To properly grasp the significance of this gesture, try and imagine what would happen if, next October, President Bush boarded a ballistic missile submarine in order to personally direct a simulated nuclear attack on China. Would President Bush's popularity increase after such a "campaign stunt," or would he damage his chances at the polls?
After leading a simulated nuclear attack on America, President Putin demonstrated his monarchical prerogative by dismissing the entire Russian government. Putin explained himself as follows: "This decision bears no relation to any assessment of the performance ... of the government. It was dictated by my desire to once again delineate my position on the issue of what development course the country will take after March 14, 2004."
Once again, try and imagine what would happen if three weeks before next November's election the president fired his entire cabinet. The act itself would be a scandal and the president's judgment would be called into question. But the logic of Russian politics is not the same as American politics because the Russian people do not like the status quo. They long for the greatness of their communist past. They are heartened by nuclear war preparations against America. The dismissal of the entire Russian government is inwardly applauded, because the average Russian despises the government. He now has good reason to love President Putin, who wiped away the government in a single stroke. The power of a tsar, of a dictator, is seen as a desirable thing. A weak democratic leader, who panders to the electorate, is not what the Russians want.
Russian feelings are not American feelings. In American elections opposition candidates are not drugged and kidnapped in attempted blackmail schemes (as claimed by Ivan Rybkin). American presidential hopefuls don't flee the country in fear for their lives, opting to run for office from the relative safety of London.
In terms of geopolitics, those who would read the Russian heart must shed their liberal and utopian illusions. Because that's what Russia has done, in essence. From the standpoint of Russia's suffering, dictatorship makes more sense than democracy; preparations for nuclear war make more sense than expectations of material prosperity. Russia has been bankrupt since World War I. It suffered more loss of life than any other country in World War II. Understanding this allows us to make sense of a politics based on repeated disappointment where heartbreak is expected, loss is normal, and strength is valued above all; for only in strength does Russia feel, deep down, any hope for the future.
Americans, on their side, take too much for granted. We assume that our prosperity will continue, that our Republic is stable. Our irresponsible political choices are made under the assumption that wealth will insulate us from all consequences. But what if our wealth, like Samson's hair, were cut from us?
The heart is conditioned, in part, by events. Tragic events give us one kind of heart. Happiness gives us another.
