Why You Need To Hope And Believe

• Andrey Arkhangelsky
• 15.03.2024, 16:39

The more restless a society is, the healthier it is.

The famous intellectual went over to the side of the regime — he not only kept silent, but actively supported it. What his former colleagues and comrades write about. The first desire is to write an angry comment like “Heidegger’s history has taught us nothing.” However, I read other people’s comments and the phrase “I’m not surprised” appears with great frequency. And this is even more terrible in its own way. How can this be, I want to exclaim. Many people knew him. Scientist, broad-minded person. Whether by calculation or by delusion, he succumbed to the charm of evil, but in any case, this is a human catastrophe. A reason for regret, for anger, even curses. But not “he was always like this,” as is now customary to write in the format of a lifetime obituary. Nobody always is. With rare exceptions. A lot has happened to everyone in the last 30 years, and any transitions were preceded, if you remember, by long periods of doubt, compromise, trying to sit on two chairs. And in the end, something outweighed everyone by 2022.

This “I’m not surprised” is, of course, a defensive reaction of the psyche. Which is actually very upset, but doesn't show it. Spontaneously, from the entire set of reactions, this particular one is chosen, since the habit of not being surprised by the nightmarish has deep roots. One person who witnessed the repressions of 1937 described the situation in the editorial office of a famous Moscow newspaper: “They took away entire departments. The window is open, the door to the office is wide open, the wind slams it back and forth — and no one dares to close it. The rest pass by, as if not noticing. A new habit was instinctively developed — to pretend that nothing had happened, because it saved lives.”

Not noticing the terrible, maintaining poker-like calm, not blinking — that’s Stalin’s training. It, as the most optimal model of behavior, remained for the entire future period. Listen with cold dispassion at meetings to any nonsense, obscurantism — all this “we stigmatize or condemn” — without batting an eye. It all ended in natural decomposition, a collective sleep of reason under droning guidelines (there was such a scene in the perestroika film “Regional Emergency”).

In contrast to this, another norm of behavior matured among the minority: it is better to be crazy than indifferent. In Bulgakov’s book, Berlioz, as we remember, speaks very calmly, explains, and cites, as they say, facts. Ivan Bezdomny, on the contrary, becomes more and more violent as he gets closer to the truth. Not being silent is the nerve of the sixties. Indifference is a sign of moral illness. Galich often chooses this sarcastic mask — he sings on behalf of the collective silent people: “Oh, it shouldn’t be out loud, oh, it shouldn’t be.” Vysotsky offers a whole genre — songs of anxiety. Perestroika came precisely under the sign of awakening, awakening from sleep. Under the sign of proper concern.

Why did the fashion for monstrous calm arise again in the 2000s? Putinism has revived the age-old habit of accepting everything as it is. This is a professional thing for security officers, by the way, this is what they are taught — to turn off human feelings, switch off everything personal. This is what we were advised to do. And this has passed on to society as a norm. The general deadening began with this feigned calmness — not to blink. Pretend that everything is normal. Learned calm. Calm down, they'll sort it out. Calm down, no one will attack. Demshiza — this is how the most sensitive people were called. Who turned out to be right in the end.

This habit of not being surprised when something terrible happens is a consequence of the suppression of ethical instincts. This artificial calm is unhealthy, inhuman. A person needs strength to withstand stress, of course: but physical calm does not equal numbness of the senses. In civil society, anxiety is the norm. Do not find a place for yourself when faced with injustice. A private feeling of indignation turns into collective political action, as happened on the Ukrainian Maidans. In Germany, even an informal meeting of far-right leaders in the winter of 2024 caused public concern — a million took to the streets. Almost every day someone goes on strike here: tractors and other agricultural machinery drive through the streets, honking their horns, or, conversely, trains on strike do not run. This is inconvenient for the average person, but it maintains a spirit of uneasiness in society. Because the calm ones can screw everything up. The more restless a society is, the healthier it is.

The recent journalistic text that caused a stir - that after Navalny’s death we have no hope and that it is even harmful - is from the same series. About a third of the comments under it: “But I have given up hope for a long time.” To the question of how readers understood this text. A variation of the same cynical calmness brought up by the authorities. And, I must say, the Kremlin is also quite happy with this reaction. General cynicism accommodates this option - there is no future. State cynicism means rejection of the future and disbelief in any utopias - it offers only a kind of faith in the worst. Into a black hole. This hardening of cynicism has not escaped us either - it is very comfortable. You just have to not believe it.

Perfection is always a crazy idea. But sometimes it tends to come true. It's right to be a little utopian and have faith in the unthinkable. To be surprised and worried about another one falling down is the correct human reaction. To suffer and not find a place for yourself, to be horrified that the majority of the Russian population does not feel anything — but not to accept it as natural, “it has always been this way.” Because we only make things worse for ourselves. Unwillingness to put up with the terrible is a moral norm, even if it’s a contradiction. They hope and believe not when it is clear, but on the contrary — when everything is hidden in darkness. Hope is worthless — but without it we are worthless.

Andrey Arkhangelsky, Radio Liberty