Book Review: Moscow Rules

In Mr. Keir Giles’ book, we embark on a cultural and historical examination of the Russian psyche, which Mr Giles claims only speaks and listens to violence and power. The various incarnations of Russia, from the Tsarist state, the Soviet Union to modern day Russia under Vladimir Putin, originate from this deep, conflicted psyche. We are brought through three different aspects of the Russian mind: violence/power, deception/conceit, and distrust of the West. Unfortunately, in doing so, Mr Giles seems to confirm the Russian fear of Western exceptionalism: the tendency to treat the rule of law, separation of powers, and individual liberty as the natural and superior law. Although Mr Giles is an expert on Russia, the proverbial Kremlinologist, his insights into the inner workings of Russia seem to be stereotypical though tinged with some nuance.

He may be right. Understanding Russia - a paradoxical country teetering on the edge of Westernness but seemingly unique in its own right - is a very difficult task. First, Mr Giles addresses the role of power and violence in Russian society. He alleges that Russia only listens to power, and power is wielded almost monopolistically and abusively by the state. This Hobbesian beast has, repeatedly, inflicted much harm on its own citizens to advance foreign policy. Various examples are littered through history - the inhumane treatment of serfs, the gulags, and the blatant use of assassination and bombs to cower the populace into submission or prove a foreign policy point. In the latest edition, this spirit is channeled by Vladimir Putin, whose autocratic rule is as vicious as it is full of machismo that only bewilders the Western audience.

Mr Giles then addresses the tendency for Russians to distort and mangle the truth. He points to various shades of truth and untruth in the Russian language. If, as Wittgenstein once quipped, the limits of my language are the limits of my mind, then perhaps the Western mind is ill-equipped to handle the shades of factual and metaphysical truths that are so obvious to the Russian, just as the different tones of white snow are to the Eskimo. This, Mr Giles argues, is contrasted with the Western predilection for factual accuracy and scientific rigor. He states then, that this is the root cause of misunderstanding: if lying is natural, then the untruth is the truth. This tendency largely contradicts, confuses and complicates relationships with Western partners who (allegedly) do business in factual honesty and good faith. This characteristic trait - you know that I know that you know that I am lying - is vranyo, or lying to make yourself look good or to justify an action.

You know I’m lying, and I know that you know, and you know that I know that you know I’m lying.

Perhaps the root of famous Soviet distortions of truth, it calls to mind 1984’s doublespeak and questions of the Orwellian state. Language, perhaps, is the limit of the human mind.

Thus the Russian mind is skeptical and distrustful of the West. They lie, they project machinations of immense power (think the Tsar Bomba), and in the words of Mr Giles, “they ask for the whole cake and graciously take half.” It is a warning to all politicians of the West to tread on Russia lightly, and to avoid a politics of appeasement. It is a hard-headed and realistic look at the Russian mind, a call to practice realpolitik with its latest incarnate in Putin, and a recognition, at long last, that the West has failed immensely to deal with the Russian bear.