Gulnaz Sharafutdinova - Böcker

What explains Putin's enduring popularity in Russia? In The Red Mirror, Gulnaz Sharafutdinova uses social identity theory to explain Putin's leadership. The main source of Putin's political influence, she finds, lies in how he articulates the shared collective perspective that unites many Russian citizens. Under his tenure, the Kremlin's media machine has tapped into powerful group emotions of shame and humiliation--derived from the Soviet transition in the 1990s--and has politicized national identity to transform these emotions into pride and patriotism. Culminating with the annexation of Crimea in 2014, this strategy of national identity politics is still the essence of Putin's leadership in Russia. But victimhood-based consolidation is also leading the country down the path of political confrontation and economic stagnation. To enable a cultural, social, and political revival in Russia, Sharafutdinova argues, political elites must instead focus on more constructively conceived ideas about the country's future. Integrating methods from history, political science, and social psychology, The Red Mirror offers the clearest picture yet of how the nation's majoritarian identity politics are playing out.

What explains Putin's enduring popularity in Russia? In The Red Mirror, Gulnaz Sharafutdinova uses social identity theory to explain Putin's leadership. The main source of Putin's political influence, she finds, lies in how he articulates the shared collective perspective that unites many Russian citizens. Under his tenure, the Kremlin's media machine has tapped into powerful group emotions of shame and humiliation--derived from the Soviet transition in the 1990s--and has politicized national identity to transform these emotions into pride and patriotism. Culminating with the annexation of Crimea in 2014, this strategy of national identity politics is still the essence of Putin's leadership in Russia. But victimhood-based consolidation is also leading the country down the path of political confrontation and economic stagnation. To enable a cultural, social, and political revival in Russia, Sharafutdinova argues, political elites must instead focus on more constructively conceived ideas about the country's future. Integrating methods from history, political science, and social psychology, The Red Mirror offers the clearest picture yet of how the nation's majoritarian identity politics are playing out.

This book examines the coexistence of crony capitalism and traditionally democratic institutions such as political competition and elections in Russia after the collapse of communism. The combination, Gulnaz Sharafutdinova argues, has produced a distinct pattern of political evolution in contemporary Russia. Elections are meant to ensure government accountability and allow voters to elect a government responsive to their needs, but in postcommunist Russia the institutional forms of democracy did not result in the expected outcomes. Instead, democratic institutions in the context of crony capitalism—in which informal elite groups dominate policy making, and preferential treatment from the state, not market forces, is crucial to amassing and holding wealth—were widely devalued and discredited. As Sharafutdinova demonstrates, especially through her close scrutiny of elections in two regions of Russia, Nizhnii Novgorod and the Republic of Tatarstan, crony capitalism made elections especially intense struggles among the elites. Massive amounts of money flowed into campaigns to promote candidates by discrediting their rivals, money purchased candidates and power, and elites thereby solidified their control. As a result, the majority of citizens perceived elections as the means for the elite to access power and wealth rather than as expressions of public will. Through her detailed case studies and her analyses of contemporary Russia in general, Sharafutdinova argues persuasively that the turn toward authoritarianism associated with Vladimir Putin and supported by a majority of Russian citizens was a negative political response to the interaction of electoral processes and crony capitalism.

This book examines the coexistence of crony capitalism and traditionally democratic institutions such as political competition and elections in Russia after the collapse of communism. The combination, Gulnaz Sharafutdinova argues, has produced a distinct pattern of political evolution in contemporary Russia. Elections are meant to ensure government accountability and allow voters to elect a government responsive to their needs, but in postcommunist Russia the institutional forms of democracy did not result in the expected outcomes. Instead, democratic institutions in the context of crony capitalism—in which informal elite groups dominate policy making, and preferential treatment from the state, not market forces, is crucial to amassing and holding wealth—were widely devalued and discredited. As Sharafutdinova demonstrates, especially through her close scrutiny of elections in two regions of Russia, Nizhnii Novgorod and the Republic of Tatarstan, crony capitalism made elections especially intense struggles among the elites. Massive amounts of money flowed into campaigns to promote candidates by discrediting their rivals, money purchased candidates and power, and elites thereby solidified their control. As a result, the majority of citizens perceived elections as the means for the elite to access power and wealth rather than as expressions of public will. Through her detailed case studies and her analyses of contemporary Russia in general, Sharafutdinova argues persuasively that the turn toward authoritarianism associated with Vladimir Putin and supported by a majority of Russian citizens was a negative political response to the interaction of electoral processes and crony capitalism.

By landmass, Russia is the world's largest country, due mainly to centuries of military expansion and colonization. As a result, it contains people of many ethnicities, nationalities, and religions—and yet social minorities have been mostly disregarded or repressed by governmental policy and ignored in scholarship. This volume explores how ethnically non-Russian peoples develop and sustain their local and ethnic identities through embodied relations with nonhuman elements such as land, animals, and sacred sites rather than through discourse or state institutions. In fact, these local efforts challenge the Kremlin's "master narrative" of Russian cultural superiority. These nonhuman entities persist undeniably as an ever-present source of meaning and identity creation in spite of an autocratic centralized state. Using decolonial, anthropological, environmental, sociological, linguistic, and geographic case studies, this volume reframes minority agency as ecosocial practice embedded in local ecologies and postimperial power asymmetries.

Almost three decades after the collapse of the Soviet Union, today more often than ever, global media and intellectuals rely on the concept of homo sovieticus to explain Russia’s authoritarian ills. Homo sovieticus - or the Soviet man - is understood to be a double-thinking, suspicious and fearful conformist with no morality, an innate obedience to authority and no public demands; they have been forged in the fires of the totalitarian conditions in which they find themselves.But where did this concept come from? What analytical and ideological pillars does it stand on? What is at stake in using this term today? The Afterlife of the ‘Soviet Man’ addresses all these questions and even explains why – at least in its contemporary usage – this concept should be abandoned altogether.

Almost three decades after the collapse of the Soviet Union, today more often than ever, global media and intellectuals rely on the concept of homo sovieticus to explain Russia’s authoritarian ills. Homo sovieticus - or the Soviet man - is understood to be a double-thinking, suspicious and fearful conformist with no morality, an innate obedience to authority and no public demands; they have been forged in the fires of the totalitarian conditions in which they find themselves.But where did this concept come from? What analytical and ideological pillars does it stand on? What is at stake in using this term today? The Afterlife of the ‘Soviet Man’ addresses all these questions and even explains why – at least in its contemporary usage – this concept should be abandoned altogether.