Discussion: Do we need a law on the denigration of historical memory?
Sergey Shoigu’s recent proposal to criminalize the distortion of history and the denial of the Soviet victory in the Great Patriotic War was apparently on the verge of acquiring the status of a legislative bill. Surprisingly, however, the core group of the United Russia party refused to support the initiative of one of the party’s most prominent representatives. The rejection was even more surprising given that the proposal had been supported in various forms by the head of United Russia, Boris Gryzlov, and even the Prosecutor General, Viktor Chaiko. It is possible that at its meeting the core group decided to concentrate entirely on anti-crisis measures and not waste time on extraneous matters. It is unlikely, however, that this means the idea to adopt a law on the denigration of history has been sidelined forever, so it is hardly worth ending the discussion of this important topic.
In principle, the initiative to adopt such a law came about quite some time ago. The main catalyst now, however, was probably the recent news from Ukraine on the decision to bestow on Roman Shukhevych, commander of the fascist Nachtigall Battalion, the Hero of Ukraine award, as well as the official celebration of his birthday. In any event, recent attempts to rehabilitate Nazi collaborators in Ukraine are of far greater concern to Russian politicians than Legion Day, which was celebrated as an official holiday in Latvia from 1994 until 2001.
Our politicians’ concern over the glorification of Nazi criminals is quite easy to understand. Until Latvia and Estonia began doing this, if it wasn’t possible to turn a blind eye, then at least one could avoid paying too much attention. For the most part, that is how our political establishment has proceeded. But since Ukrainian politicians have joined the Balts, the situation has grown intolerable, and a more aggressive response now seems required. Similar bans in major European countries serve as a favorable starting point for our proposed law. In France, it is now forbidden to deny the Armenian genocide, and in Germany and Austria, there are penalties for denying the Holocaust. It seems pertinent to mention the resolution condemning the denial of the Holocaust that was adopted by the UN General Assembly on January 26, 2007. The resolution contains a statement on the “unacceptability of revisionism with respect to the Second World War and the glorification of fascism.” The text of the document also stresses the unacceptability of “any attempts to glorify supporters of fascism, whether former Waffen SS legionary organizations or other collaborators who destroyed the lives of hundreds of thousands of civilians, prisoners of war and prisoners in ‘death camps.’”
The aforementioned allows us to understand the primary intention of United Russia, which is perhaps the most important thing here. As for the details, the cause for much of the confusion was Shoigu himself, who offered the absurd wording: to criminalize the “nonrecognition of the Soviet Union’s victory in the Great Patriotic War.” Such ambiguity of expression, of course, says a lot about the level of political and legal culture in Russia. Nevertheless, after a series of explanations the intention of the bill’s supporters was clarified to a certain degree. According to Shoigu, it is absolutely essential “to preserve our sacred sites and prevent the Nazis from being turned into heroes – to have the younger generation stand up to Nazi symbolism.” What is at stake here is preventing the demolition of monuments to Soviet soldiers, the glorification of collaborators and the use of Nazi symbols.
A number of politicians have raised objections to this initiative, and many of them have already made their views known in the discussion on the Russkiy Mir Foundation website.
We can understand the fear expressed by one of the discussion’s participants that bureaucratic interference with respect to historical memory would only result in harm and that, moreover, the tradition of Russian bureaucracy loosely interpreting laws is quite well known. Nevertheless, there are opportunities to discuss this subtle material using legal language. Referring to our bureaucracy can hardly be considered fruitful or pragmatic. If the authorities firmly decided to carry out such a decision, then that would have been the same as rejecting further discussion. Further discussion, however, is necessary. The danger of attempts by the bureaucracy to regulate historical memory through various prohibitions and ordinances truly does exist. Taking into account the general level of development of the Russian civil servant class, such bureaucratic interference is doubly undesirable. It must be said, though, that it doesn’t seem worth fearing an attack on the freedom of historical memory in our country in general, as such restrictions are possible only in totalitarian states, and Russia has neither the resources nor the desire to become such a state. What is fundamentally important is the concrete wording of the law. If it were to be composed, extremely clear and narrow bounds for its application would be necessary. This legal exactitude should be a definite guarantee from prohibitions on personal expressions of opinion on various historical eras, in this case on the Soviet people’s struggle against fascism. Alternatively, and one can’t help but agree with other participants in this discussion, “forbidden” thoughts will simply enter a semi-legal existence, which, given the current state of information technology, would not differ significantly from that which is legal. Such a prohibition would perhaps push toward a reinterpretation of history from an “anti-state” perspective.
If the issue, however, is one of promoting fascism and attempting to rehabilitate Nazi collaborators, then this law has a right to exist. It is important to understand that a direct attack is taking place in neighboring countries with respect to our history. What is not being argued, of course, is that someone is denying the Soviet Union’s victory in the Great Patriotic War; rather, it is that the Soviet people’s war against fascism is being placed on the same level as the war waged by the fascists against the Soviet Union. This approach is becoming part of official ideology. The response to this call should also be at the state level, and a law can be one of Russia’s ways to oppose this trend. The only issue, I repeat, is in the subtleness of the law’s wording and in the correct sphere of its application.
The claims against the authors of this idea are not exhausted by this reasoning. It is unclear, for example, how they plan to implement the law given the fact that the issue here involves neighboring countries. Does a mechanism even exist to implement such a law? We are not going to arrest members of official delegations from Latvia and Ukraine who arrive in Russia, are we? Even a ban on entering our country’s territory will hardly become an effective measure. For Russia itself, perhaps the last point, concerning Nazi symbols, is the most pertinent. Nobody in Russia is waging war against monuments to Soviet soldiers or supporting rehabilitation of Vlasov’s army.
What might be the consequences of adopting such a law? They might be incredibly ambiguous in the Baltic, for example. Latvian nationalists may even express great joy at such a law’s adoption, for it will confirm their favorite assertions on the imperial essence of Russian foreign policy.
And what about the transfer of monuments? On the one hand, any government, knowing about the adoption of the law in Russia, will defer to it. This is likely what Sergey Shoigu had in mind. It is not worth overestimating one’s own strengths, however. While the legionaries’ march was banned in Riga this year, the ban most likely happened under the pressure of more or less passing circumstances. The government is afraid to provoke new disturbances in light of the country’s desperate financial situation, and falling into dispute with Russia right now is also out of the question. But what will happen when the situation in Latvia improves?
What if, as was the case with the Bronze Soldier in Tallinn, a monument is transfered (or taken down altogether) under some everyday pretext like, for example, the disruption of traffic? What would Russia do then? Intervene? On what grounds? On the basis of legislation adopted in Russia? Isn’t Russian society’s unhappiness enough for such intervention?
It is obvious that the adoption of a law on the protection of historical memory may not serve well in several cases, especially if it strips the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of room to maneuver. Is this something we really need? This is a question Russian lawmakers must answer before deciding to adopt such a law.
Sergey Shoigu’s rejected proposal is not the only initiative along these lines. In the middle of April, the State Duma will hold a roundtable whose participants will discuss the idea of a law on measures that Russia can take to oppose the rehabilitation of Nazism, Nazi criminals and their collaborators in the former Soviet Union. Among the useful initiatives developed by the working group in charge of drafting the legislation is a proposal to establish an Anti-Fascist Chamber. As a state agency, this body would be charged with conducting public hearings and developing recommendations on the adoption of norms in the new law. Currently, this is only a concept that has been put forward, and quite likely, open public discussion will be needed. This is something that could be of interest to the initiators themselves, at least so that their initiative does not suffer the same fate as the confused proposal put forward by Shoigu.
It seems that we need a more measured approach to the idea of punishment. Hope remains that the authors will be able to determine what should be punished and what makes little sense to punish. If pursuing the glorification of collaborators is important and necessary, then it is better to leave alone the issue of offending historical memory or denial of the Soviet Union’s victory in the Great Patriotic War – for the simple reason that the victory is not something that can be taken away. Nor can its denial offend the public. That which cannot be taken away does not need to be defended. This is a secret realization that still unites the entire nation. Any attempts to revise history and impose the will of others can only strengthen the sense of ownership and unite people, not the other way around. In any event, this is true today, and the proof is in the last twenty years of our history. Even if it is true that the issue of the Victory was chosen by the authorities as a substitute for national ideology, however temporary, then it is no less true that this great myth is alive today and needs no further support.
