#10 - JRL 8338 - JRL Home
From: "Vladmir Shlapentokh" <shlapent@msu.edu>
Subject: The Short Time Horizon in the Russian Mind
Date: Sat, 21 Aug 2004

The Short Time Horizon in the Russian Mind
Vladimir Shlapentokh
Professor of sociology at Michigan State University ..

An individual's vision of the future is an important factor that shapes his or her quality of life and behavior. The character and intensity of this factor varies from society to society, group to group, and from one moment to the next. Four actors are central to the analysis of the Russians' perspective of the future: the leadership, political elites, business elites and the masses.

The members of each of these groups have their own "time horizon," that is, the length of time in the future that influences their decisions, moods, and quality of life. The length of this period depends mostly on how they perceive the level of stability in society, now and in the future. As an actor's pessimism about the future increases, the time horizon decreases. In extreme cases, the person's time horizon can decline to the point where they disregard what may or may not happen tomorrow.

Another important factor is the power and readiness of the particular actor to influence the future of society and its institutions, not to mention their own lives. When people believe that it is impossible to change the future, or the fate of their nation, they become either fatalistic, or tend to violate social norms, resulting in crime, corruption and violence. The leadership and the elites in the country play an important role in influencing whether the masses believe that something can be done to change the nation for the better.

The Future in the Soviet Mind

As paradoxical as it may seem, the time horizon during the Soviet period was much longer than in Russia today. There was a relatively high level of optimism and a strong belief in the nation's ability to shape its future. This was true for all four actors mentioned above.

The optimistic vision of the future dictated the decisions of the Soviet leaders and influenced the course of events in a desirable direction. Even during the first years of the war with Nazi Germany, when the outcome of the war was unclear, Stalin showed his concern about the long-term future of the Soviet Union, and its military might. He made several decisions that may have undermined the war effort (for instance, the release from the draft of people with scholarly degrees and even students in the engineering colleges). In the mid 1940s, Stalin demonstrated his concern about the long-term demographic trends in the country. He banned abortion, made it difficult to get divorced, and created a number of laws that encouraged childbearing, including special allowances to families with children, an honorary title for mothers who bore several children ("the hero of motherhood"), and a military high school for orphans. Gorbachev was also quite optimistic up until the end of the Soviet Union, and even in the late 1980s, several programs for the future were elaborated at his command.

In the 1970s and first half of the 1980s, members of the nomenclature (Russian and non Russian) were of course much less optimistic about the future than in the previous two decades. They harbored some pessimistic assessments of Soviet society and particularly the economy. However, they still believed that the Soviet Union would last "forever" and built their long-term careers on loyalty to "the system." Perestroika caused a great deal of unrest among the apparatchiks. It was not until 1989-1990 that the most active apparatchiks began to think about the new future, and tried to find a way to adjust, or even prosper.

The attitudes of the masses toward the future evolved throughout Soviet history. After the revolution, the Soviet system was able to instill in the minds of the masses an optimistic vision of the future. This vision attracted the most active and ambitious people in the country, first of all young and educated people. In the beginning, Soviet propaganda tied the country's future to the world revolution, but by the late 1920s focused more on the prospects of a Communist paradise. In the early 1960s, the number of believers in the Communist paradise declined significantly, despite Khrushchev's attempts to revive these dreams. Yet, the average Russian remained confident in the future. While refusing to believe in the triumph of the Communist paradise in the years to come, the majority of the Russians did not nurture apocalyptic visions, and instead looked forward without major fears or apprehension. As one exception, the fear of war was never far from the Soviet mentality. The Kremlin was always able, as Andropov demonstrated in 1983, to ignite the war hysteria and the fear of the future in the country.

Nevertheless, by 1985 the average Russian's time horizon was quite long compared to the current standard. They planned and prepared for their children's future up through college graduation and beyond. They were only moderately afraid about their future in terms of their retirement. There was no serious fear of sudden poverty or a lack of healthcare. This high level of confidence explains why the sudden collapse of the Soviet system was such a gigantic shock. There had been a strong belief in the permanence of the Soviet system, making it all the more difficult to reconcile its breakdown fifteen years ago.

Attitudes toward the future changed dramatically in the post-Soviet period. For the sake of analysis, this period should be separated into the 1990s (the Yeltsin regime) and the 2000s (the Putin regime).

The Future in the 1990s

For most of the 1990s, the Russians were deeply pessimistic. Most of them refused to think about what would happen in the next days. With such indifference toward the future, the people, in a mood of self-deprecation, compared themselves to dragonflies, which, unlike the ant in Ivan Krylov's famous fable (1808), never think about the future during summer and therefore suffer during winter. Upset by the turmoil in their country, those Russians who had extra money spent it on tourism, binges and luxury goods. They were even reluctant to encourage their children to pursue higher education. Compared to 1985, the 1990s saw a 20 percent decline in university enrollment, and a 25 percent drop in vocational school enrollment. The marriage rate also declined (from 9.7 per thousand in 1985 to 5.9 in 1996), along with the birth rate (from 16.6 per thousand in 1985 to 8.6 in 1997).

A belief that the future is extremely uncertain and unstable has created a cynical climate in the country. In part, this perspective accounts for the dramatic spread of corruption among officials at all levels and businesspeople as well as for the blending of bureaucracy and businesses with criminals. This climate has also encouraged the flight of both people and capital from the country. Watching and experiencing the lawlessness in Russian society, the people have become extremely despondent. By the end of the 1990s, according to the "World Values Survey" (which included 43 societies), the Russians were the most pessimistic people on the planet, with similar levels of pessimism found only in Germany and Argentina.

The Future in the 2000s: Real Stability, Spurious Stability, or Both

As Putin came to power, he stabilized the country, and the future no longer seemed so dismal to the Russians. The country's political actors were less fearful about Moscow's political instability, and a possible change of leadership, which had haunted the elites in 1993 and 1999. It looked as if Russia was no longer threatened by separatism. The period between 1992 and 1993, when one region after another proclaimed independence and engaged foreign countries, had passed. The regional leaders stopped playing the role of power brokers in Moscow, blatantly ignoring the Kremlin's instructions and even trying to blackmail the center by resisting its policies. After 2000, the people became more confident that a domino process of separatism could be avoided, regardless of the events in Chechnya.

A new sense of unity emerged in the country. The people favored the new president, who looked sober, competent and young, especially compared to the previous leader. More importantly, the Russians acquired confidence in the regular payment of salaries and pensions. The standard of living in the country also increased, even if the level of poverty in the country remained dismal (according to some assessments, no less than 60 percent of the population lives in poverty). However, the country continued to live with a relatively short time horizon, even if it had grown since Yeltsin's time.

Ultimately, the short time horizon that exists today in Russia can be attributed to the fact that most Russians do not believe that the current stability is a long-term trend. There is a consensus in the country that the standard of living and the strength of all public services - the army, healthcare, education, and science - are dependent on the price of oil. In 2003, almost two-thirds of the Russian GDP came from the extraction industry. In 2002 (the most recent data available), products from this industry made up 55 percent of Russian exports. This indicator has shown clear signs of increasing in the last decade (from 42 percent in 1995 to 54 percent in 2000).

Indeed, in spite of some progress, including a GDP that grew by 5-7 percent each year over the last few years, the country's economic prospects remain dubious. At a recent conference in Moscow on the topic of Russia's future, a leading Russian economist, Evgenii Yasin, explained that it is difficult to predict which road the country will take in the next decade, because the process of modernizing the economy has not yet begun.

Transition of Power: Again a Source of Fear

Contemplating their own history, as well as the history of other countries, the Russians are aware that stability in society can persist under either a strong monarchy, or an efficient democracy. Even under a totalitarian society, such as the Soviet Union, the level of stability was always being tested. Some transitions from one Soviet leader to the next had demanded the participation of army commanders (these actions led to successful transitions in 1953, 1957 and 1964, although there was an unsuccessful result in 1991).

If Russia benefited from the same level of democracy that exists in its former satellites in Eastern Europe and the Baltic republics, the Russians might foresee the next years with some confidence. However, no one knows today who will be running the country or under what pretexts in 2008. With the authoritarian constitution and its despotic power, the new leader, even if Putin chooses him, can and by all accounts will change the rules of the game. Putin has already made several changes, even if Yeltsin propelled him to power and seemingly received a promise from Putin to guarantee his regime's continuity. The various projects intended to keep Putin in power, which are now floating around the Kremlin, also suggest that major changes will occur. All of them suppose a radical revision of the Constitution. If Putin remains in power it will be seen as a clear sign of the hardening of the regime, and the elimination of the last vestiges of democracy, which for the time being can still be seen in Russian political life.

The transition of power even in the Soviet Union was a risky period for the elites and society in general. However, the Soviet system, unlike contemporary Russia, had a strong official and nomenclature ideology until 1987-1989. This ideology contributed to the relatively stable transitions in the Kremlin. Today Russian society does not have a consistent national ideology that is supported by the majority of the population, a circumstance that is both the product and cause of the deeply rooted instability in contemporary society.

The Kremlin's Deeply Eclectic Ideology

An authoritarian or totalitarian regime cannot automatically produce a realistic ideology that is taken seriously by the bureaucracy, the business and political elites and the masses. The desire for power is not itself an ideology. The supreme boss has to convincingly explain how the country will achieve its goals with an authoritarian regime. No dictator in history, from Stalin and Hitler to Tito and Pinochet, operated without a strong, consistent and appealing ideology.

There is little doubt that the installation of authoritarian measures is at the core of Putin's personal vision for Russia. Never in his four years in office has he veered from this conviction. It has a crucial impact on his decisions in domestic and international affairs. In the first year of his presidency, Putin tried to justify the transformation of Russia into an authoritarian state with an ideology in which the country's unity and the maintenance of social order played the crucial role, along with the creation of a national identity, the enhancement of Russia's geopolitical status in the world and particularly on the territory of the former Soviet Union. This ideology would supposedly bolster the economy and the standard of living (a special concern for disfavored people) as well as a respect for private property and market mechanisms. An analysis of Putin's speeches and deeds during his tenure in the Kremlin shows that he has not been loyal to any of the various elements of the ideology he claims to espouse.

Putin indeed restored the authority of the central administration in the country and excluded governors from any serious role in national politics, demanding from them, as feudal vassals, taxes (particularly from donor regions rich in natural resources) and, instead of the traditional allocation of knights for the royal army, the delivery of a majority of voters in his favor in the presidential election.

Putin followed the ideology of feudal kings who were strong enough to protect their positions from the local barons (or even remove some of them), but not strong enough to enforce national laws in the province. Also in the spirit of feudal monarchies, which always suffered from a lack of resources, Putin tries to shift various social obligations to the local bosses. This was the policy of Putin's government in 2003-2004 when, trying to reform its welfare programs, health services and real estate management, it tried to hold the regions responsible for satisfying the population's basic needs.

As a result, contrary to Putin's pledge to enforce social order and federal laws across the country, the Kremlin allows the regional leaders to act like feudal lords as long as they demonstrate loyalty. For instance, seemingly on a whim, Kirsan Ilumzhinov, the president of Kalmykia, one of the poorest regions in the country with its 50 percent unemployment, spent the lion's share of the budget on building a chess palace and other preparations for an international chess competition. The opposition in the republics has been severely persecuted. A prominent journalist who was critical of the regime was murdered. Putin also tolerated the fact that the governor of Orlov, Egor Stroiev, made his daughter a senator who "represents" his region in the Council of the Federation.

The total arbitrariness of the presidents in Bashkortostan and Tatarstan became conventional wisdom in the country long ago. Without protests from Moscow, several governors, such as Eduard Rossels from Ekaterinburg, changed the regional law, and got reelected for a third term.

Putin's pledge to make social order the priority in his ideology has been challenged even more by his refusal to seriously fight corruption and crime. Many corrupt figures have been spared, and a high official has never been brought to trail on corruption charges in the Russian courts. No attempts have been made to expose the links between high-level bureaucrats or Duma deputies and criminal structures. In the opinion of the members of the "Public Union of Anti-Corruption," the fight against corruption softened, and the number of publications in the media on the corrupt activities of bureaucrats and businesspeople drastically decreased. Putin has made no progress in the fight against the mafias that continue to play a major role in political and economic life. It is enough to mention the notorious bandit from Irkutsk, Anatolii Bykov, who has been accused of several murders, corruption and other illegal actions, yet continues to prosper in Siberia as one of the most influential businessmen in the region. Another example is the Governor of the Far East Sergei Darkin who has been deeply involved in criminal activities. He was denounced many times by the Russian media as a person who maintains, in spite of his new position, his criminal connections. One of Darkin's close confidants, who also has a long criminal record, was at the prestigious meeting in Moscow with Putin on the eve of the presidential election as a leading activist in Putin's party "Unity of Russia," and was elected as the mayor of Vladivostok in July. In June, the deputy of the attorney general deemed it possible and necessary to meet ("on neutral territory, excluding listening devices") with the heads of criminal organizations in Saratov to ask for help in the investigation of the big explosion in the city market on June 4, 2004. The majority of the population does not believe that the Kremlin is serious about fighting crime and corruption.

Without a head-on approach to corruption, the efficiency and competence of the state has declined. In the last years, the army, the FSB, the police and other law enforcement agencies demonstrated their inability to cope with serious problems. The failure of the rescue operations on the submarine Kursk in June 2001, the botched attempt to save the hostages taken by the Chechen terrorists in the Moscow theatre in October 2003, the regular fiascos in the war against Chechnya, and the successful raid of the militants in Ingushetia in June, 2004 are only a few examples that have put the state's efficiency in question.

The Kremlin does not portray a consistent national and cultural identity. On one side, the Kremlin and the media apparently focus on the country's national traditions and the Orthodox Church. Putin regularly makes TV appearances in Orthodox churches and keeps close relations with the Russian patriarch. The Kremlin evidently encouraged a meeting between the Russian Academy of Science and the theological institute of the Orthodox Church for the discussion of "the science of angels." The Kremlin declares its special concern not only for the Russians living within the country, but also in Diaspora. It looks benignly upon Russian nationalist parties, such as "Motherland," which is headed by the aggressive nationalist Dmitry Rogozin. It tolerates the hundreds of local anti-Semitic and xenophobic nationalist publications, and acquiesces to the passive position of law enforcement agencies toward the belligerent, semi-underground organizations responsible for killing and harassing minorities.

At the same time, the Kremlin is quite passive, or perhaps indifferent toward the fate of Russians in the former Soviet republics, where they are often the objects of mild or even harsh discrimination. To the stupefaction of the whole country, Putin has tolerated the rude provocations of the leader of Turkmenistan who recently declared that all diplomas earned in Russia or the Soviet Union are invalid in his country. At the same time, the Kremlin likes to underscore the links between Russia and the European culture with its universal values such as democracy. The notorious nationalist writer Vasilii Belov as well as the pro Western poet Evgenii Rein were both among the beneficiaries of state prizes for literature and arts in the last year. The Kremlin also demonstrates from time to time its sympathy toward the Jewish population in Russia, and flirts with the East, the Muslim World, and the Eurasian ideology.

The Kremlin's attitude toward the Soviet past is also deeply contradictory. It hinted several times about its respect for Stalin and his role in Soviet history. Putin has often praised the KGB and its predecessors. He has always demonstrated his personal loyalty to the KGB, because as he said, "such a title as former KGB colonel" is an oxymoron. In June 2004, with the evident endorsement of the Kremlin, the Chekists in Karelia built a monument to Yurii Andropov. According to Olga Kryshtanovskaia, a leading expert on Russian elites, officers and generals make up 25 percent of the people in the highest echelons of power (compared to 11 percent in 1993). At the same time, Putin condemned "the Communist experiment" and did not permit the restoration of the monument to Dzerzhinsky in Moscow.

The foreign component of the Kremlin's ideology is no less confusing. It justifies close cooperation with the United States, yet initiates harsh anti-American campaigns, as was the case during the Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City in 2002. With the same fervor, the Kremlin propagandists praised its close relationship with the EU (in his presidential address in May, Putin talked about "the spiritual rapprochement with Europe"). At the same time, the Kremlin accuses Europe of having a "double standard" in its dealing with Russia in trade, and on the issue of Chechnya.

It is impossible to understand the Kremlin policy toward the former Soviet republics. On one side, Putin's administration suggests that the restoration of the Soviet Union, even if in an abridged form, is its ultimate goal. The Kremlin is constantly talking about the creation of some sort of alliance with Ukraine, Byelorussia and Kazakhstan in terms of a "common economic space," and the special union with Byelorussia. At the same time, the Kremlin acquiesces to the slow progress toward its goals in the former Soviet space. What is more, causing a fury among the nationalists, the Kremlin accepted the new pro Western regime in Georgia and the installation of Tbilisi control over Adjaria, whose leader was considered a Russian ally.

The Kremlin does not publicly reject the Communist egalitarian traditions and regularly talks about poverty and the concerns of ordinary people, though it makes no serious moves to better their lives. In his last presidential address, Putin talked about the improvement of housing conditions for ordinary people, the introduction of mortgages, and the creation of competition in the housing industry. The Russians regarded both proposals with skepticism.

At the same time, the Kremlin tries to cut budget expenditures, following the aggressive libertarian philosophy of some of its economic advisers, such as Andrei Illarionov. It has also attempted, as one Russian journalist put it, to "get rid of the remnants of socialism."

The Kremlin evidently supports the high level of social inequality, and never condemns the conspicuous consumption of oligarchs and high officials. The media recently reported on the wedding of a leading member of the government, Herman Greff. The ceremony took place in a Petersburg historical building, an action forbidden by law. Putin has not uttered even one word to condemn the conspicuous consumption of Russia's newly rich who continued to boast about their lavish lifestyles in the media before the impoverished population. If Putin only hinted that such public profligacy was indecent, the craven "nouveau rich" would immediately stop flaunting their wealth.

Even more remarkable was the drastic increase in the incomes of Russian officials. With one stroke of the pen, Putin raised their income by 3 to 5 times, up to $36,000 per year, 15 times higher than the average salary in the country, arousing a public outrage. At the same time, the government, ignoring the anger of the people, is planning to eliminate various benefits in summer 2004, including free public transportation and telephone service, free medicines and even the rebates on rent, promising instead to replace these rebates with supplements to people's income. The majority of Russians see this action as a government fraud.

The Kremlin's economic ideology also seems like a conglomerate of mutually exclusive ideas. The Kremlin systematically declares its allegiance to liberalism in the economy, and has confirmed these declarations with several actions. It continues to sell state property and tries to decrease state subvention to public transportation, housing, medicine and services. Recently the government softened the customs control over the movement of currency and permitted citizens to buy stocks abroad and even to keep money in foreign banks. At the same time, the Kremlin is quite aggressive toward private property, and persuaded the country that the state can confiscate anyone's property. It evidently encourages the redistribution of property in favor of the new wave of elites, particularly those from the "power ministries." The Kremlin uses various means to control private business, such as imposing taxes and licenses on the use of natural resources. It also has tight control over the banking system, including the power to close any commercial bank at any time.

Its policy toward oligarchs is, of course, full of inconsistencies. The administration regularly sends contradictory messages about its position on the privatization of the 1990s, from making clear threats to revise privatization to declaring a clear reluctance to do so. While some oligarchs are spurned or even arrested, such as Mikhail Khodorkovsky whom Putin considered a political rival, others continue to prosper as members of Putin's retinue, such as Roman Abramovich. In fact, in the last year, the Kremlin has gradually implemented a redistribution of property in favor of people close to it, a development that can only postpone for an indefinite period the people's trust in private property rights.

Putin's contradictory economic ideology was revealed in another telling way. While proclaiming economic growth as a major task of his policy, he did not hesitate to arrest Khodorkovsky, destroy his prosperous oil company Yukos, and spread fear among Russian businesspeople and foreign investors, only because this businessman was a remote political threat.

The deeply eclectic character of Putin's ideology suggests that he simply does not have an ideology at all. His mind continues to puzzle the Moscow experts who have been trying to track down Putin's vision of the world for the last four years. "It is still not clear what reforms are ahead of us," said the famous Russian politician and scholar Victor Sheinis in Moscow. The prominent philosopher Valentina Fedotova, and the known Russian journalist Maxim Sokolov voiced similar concerns. The cause of his mysterious reputation lies in the simple fact that Putin has no principles ("the naked king" phenomenon). As a Russian sociologist put it, he is the "undefined president" . "ideologically amorphous" . "neither left-wing nor right-wing." His only guide is the desire to stay in the Kremlin as long as possible. It is evident that in contemporary Russia the administration makes energetic attempts to establish "Putin's cult" as a replacement for an ideology doomed to failure.

Did Putin Lose Contact with Reality?

With Putin's quasi-ideology, which tries to make the contradictory elements of his ideology plausible, he was forced to hide facts and distort reality. His last presidential address (May 26) was typical in this respect. Putin eliminated the division of power in the country, and took control of the media (according to Freedom House, among 29 countries of the former Soviet block, Russia is in 29th place with respect to its level of democracy). However, in spite of the evident facts, the president has taken the posture of a great champion of democracy, freedom and civil society, while sending a clear signal to the state bureaucracy and media that they should, as in Soviet times, always sort the Kremlin's statements into real commands and pure propaganda, as well as the declarations related to the public ideology, and those reflecting the Kremlin's real views. The seasoned Russian bureaucrats, who have not forgotten how to decode Pravda's editorials, will pay much more attention to the statement that "freedom should be responsible," or that some nongovernmental organizations are too interested in acquiring money from abroad, which is indeed a sinister signal for the already weak liberal structures in the country. When Putin's apparatchiks learned in June 2004 that the most liberal program on Russian TV, Leonid Parfenov's "The other day," was shutdown under some ridiculous pretext, they saw this as a real message to continue suppressing democracy in the country. Other similar signs included the case of Putin's youth organization "Moving together," which declared war on all four of the remaining liberal newspapers. Senator Liudmila Narusova, Putin's puppet and the wife of the late Anatolii Sobchak, suggested the necessity of censoring the Internet.

The list of blatant falsehoods uttered by Putin probably started in 2001 during his trip to Spain. Responding to a reporter's question, he said that he was unable to contact the general prosecutor in order to inquire about why the famous oligarch Vladimir Gusinsky had just been arrested. The list of such behaviors had already grown quite long by June 2004. It included statements about the Kremlin's "neutrality" in the Khodorkovsky affair, about the handling of the terrorist attacks against the Moscow theater in October 2003, the case of Levada's All Russian Public Opinion Center, and about the "honest" character of the election of the Chechen president Akhmet Kadyrov in 2003.

As the prominent Russian journalist Evgenii Kisilev courageously noted in regard to Putin's position on the Yukos affair, "there are many cases when the real facts are very different from the president's words." Andrei Piantkovsky, another prominent journalist, went even further in describing Putin's loss of reality. He compared Putin with the ailing Lenin who in 1922 read an issue of Pravda that had been prepared only for him by the members of the Politburo in order to provide the leader with some pleasant news about the country. The diagnosis of Putin as a leader who lost contact with his country has become a popular theme among all Russian journalists who can afford to take a critical stance toward the Kremlin.

His personal initiative to double the GDP by 2010 aroused skeptical comments not only among the Russians (only 10 percent of them believed in the feasibility of this goal), but also among people close to him, including his Minister of Economy German Gref who at the meeting of the government in June refused, as noted in Izvestia, "even to hint at the theoretical possibility of the implementation the president's wish." Foreign experts point to many conditions that must be met in order to attain this goal, as suggested by the mission of the IMF, which visited Moscow in June. A Russian newspaper published the conclusion of the mission with the title "The IMF mission hits Putin where it hurts."

Some of Putin's subordinates were even more eager to distort reality along the "party line." Prime Minister Mikhail Fradkov declared a plan to replace the contribution of oil production to the GDP growth by three times "in the next few years" by "uncovering sources of economic growth that are based on diversification, strengthening the competitive position of Russian enterprises in domestic and foreign markets, and improving the entrepreneurial climate by stimulating investment, introducing new technology, and organizing ways of doing business." Even in the giddy days of the first five-year plans, Stalin did not promise to radically change the technological and organizational structure of the economy in "a few years" as Putin's prime minister did. His promises look like something out of one of Baron Munchausen's fairytales. In light of Fradkov's fantasies, it is not amazing that the president, during his meeting with the president of Dagestan in June 2004 on Russian TV, did not utter a single word of skepticism when the president of Dagestan, one of the most impoverished republics in the country, promised to "triple the GDP." Moreover, Putin remained silent when his agriculture minister declared, also in June, that Chechnya, which has been ravaged by war, "would soon flood the country with grain." Putin also shows his denial of reality when he avoids in his public speeches the most acute issues that are vehemently discussed in society. In July 2004, for instance, Putin did not say a word about his attitudes toward the government's decision to monetize the benefits of retired and handicapped people - a move that aroused uproar in the country. Putin also avoided discussion on the topics of the threat of a banking crisis and the conflict with Georgia over Southern Osetia (a Georgian region that proclaimed itself independent).

Putin's grip on reality fell into question when he exclaimed in May, after viewing the Chechen capital Groznyi from the air, that he had never imagined such destruction left by the war. He also showed some amazement when he visited the sailors' hostels in the Far East, declaring that he had never guessed that the conditions could be so terrible.

Putin's own plans as well as the competition among his subordinates to draw his attention with "bold initiatives" and "projects" are reminiscent of the last years of Nikita Khrushchev's regime when the general secretary suggested the utopian idea of catching up the United States in two or three years in the production of milk and meat. Both then and now, bureaucrats competed with each other to win the favor of the leader by making spectacular promises. As I was told in the mid 1960s by Khrushchev's son-in-law Alexei Adjubei, the general secretary was once confused when he saw a ridiculous poster, the brainchild of an overzealous party bureaucrat, that read "Let us double the production of milk by four times."

Why Putin Does Not Have a Consistent Ideology

Putin's lack of a consistent ideology may be attributed to his personal intellectual biography as well as his full absorption with the developments after 2008. As a KGB agent by 1985, Putin belonged to those apparatchiks of middle level who, before 1985, in spite of the developments after Stalin's death, remained totally loyal (in thoughts and deeds) to "the system." His statements about his past can only confirm this thesis. Later during Perestroika there was a frenetic attack against the ideology Putin respected, which coincided with increased levels of corruption and fear about the collapse of "the system." All of these elements influenced the mind of the future president and shaped his eclectic thinking.

Anatolii Sobchak, Putin's boss in Leningrad, influenced him in two ways - as a democrat and as a corrupt individual. By all accounts, Putin emerged from the tumultuous years as a pragmatic thinker who was ready to use elements of any ideology (Communist, nationalist or liberal) as much as it was necessary for his individual success. He would take into account the interests of Russia only insofar as it helped him to advance his personal goals.

However, the personal traits of Putin and his unrestrained pragmatism, fueled by his obsession with power, is only one side of the coin. Russia is deeply fragmented - socially, politically, culturally and even psychologically. For this reason, a more or less cohesive ideology for the masses and the ruling elite is almost impossible to construct. In the March survey of the Russian polling firm "Romir," respondents were asked about which ideology was best for Russia. The poll found a deep ideological segmentation of the Russian people: 27 percent said "democratic," 26 percent said "Socialist and "Communist," 19 percent "patriotic," 8 percent "statist," 6 percent "Russian exceptionalism," 4 percent "liberal" and "capitalist," and 3 percent "religious."

All attempts in the last years to create "a national idea" or "national ideology" have failed. One such attempt, a rather ridiculous one, proposed the use of the Russian soccer team as a national symbol, an idea that was dropped after the team was eliminated in the first round of the European championship.

Another factor that accounts for the deeply eclectic ideology of the Russian president is the lack of resources. The size of the GDP is comparable to that of South Korea or Mexico. In terms of its GDP income per head, Russia ranks 83rd in the world. The Kremlin has no means for the large-scale actions necessary for restoring Russia's military might, or for the promotion of the market economy. With the gigantic flow of capital away from the country, and great conspicuous consumption of the elites, the Kremlin is left with a very limited amount of resources. The flood of oil dollars in the last years expanded the Kremlin's opportunities to do something, but Putin's reluctance to take even minimal political risks before 2008, and prevent a repetition of the financial catastrophe of 1998, pushed the Kremlin to put as much funding as possible in the so-called "stabilization fund," which is intended to neutralize a sudden drop in the price of oil.

A priority for the Kremlin is to continue paying off the foreign debt (about $119 billion, or the amount of the annual federal budget) as insurance against a new default. Therefore, the state, despite the growth of oil revenues, curtailed as much as possible its expenditures, and avoided any big project that could benefit the country's long-term future. A comparison of the budget expenditures in 2004 with those of 2003 shows an increase (with inflation taken into account) of less than 2 percent, while the Kremlin claimed that the GDP increased by 7-8 percent. At the same time, the currency reserves of the Central Bank have been increasing during Putin's years in office, and reached $72 billion (about two thirds of the annual federal expenditures).

Putin and Russia's Future

Three elements - Putin's total absorption with retaining his personal power, his lack of a consistent ideology and his inclination to operate with fudged information - are now determining the president's public statements toward the future of his country. Claiming from the very beginning to be a "statist," a leader whose major concern is the prosperity and might of the Russian fatherland, he has always liked talking about the future of his country. With his arrival to power, the government began what it calls "program activities," that is, attempts to engineer a brighter future. Already in the first year of Putin's presidency the government recognized 172 programs. Each year these programs require 500 billion rubles, while in fact the budget can only provide them with 10 percent of these funds. In the last years, the financing of these programs has increased, but their efficiency remains very low. In fact, some of them only exist on paper. As suggested by the Russian media, they are being used as a cover to redirect the funds for various other purposes.

In the last year, Putin praised the stability he himself brought to the country and talked about its future more often than in the past. In his last presidential address, Putin insisted that "now we have both sufficient experience and the necessary tools to set ourselves truly long-terms aims." However, all the plans that he described in his speech are abstract and populist, and have been openly mocked by the few free journalists left in Moscow. Putin did not describe the real mechanisms or financial resources necessary to achieve his goals. The description of the economy is a good example. He talks about the necessity of doubling the GDP in ten years, but does not say anything about the modernization of Russia's obsolete economy, save for noting the need for better roads, the diversification of buyers of Russian oil, and the improvement of the pipeline for transporting oil inside and outside the country, underscoring again the country's dependence on raw materials. Putin's other long-term programs in the areas of housing conditions, health services and education are also quite general and abstract. It is no surprise that most Russians have reacted to these programs with utter skepticism.

For Sergei Kara-Murza, one of the shrewdest observers of the developments in post-Soviet Russia, the utopian projects advanced by the Kremlin and the government are only a reflection of the general decline of realistic analysis at all levels of society, particularly in regard to a realistic operation with numbers. He talked about a "break in the national mind." As an example, Kara-Murza cites the case of housing renovations. As a result of many developments in the 1990s (the slackening of housing construction and the lack of money for repair of old buildings), there were 50 million square meters of housing in 2000 deemed too dangerous to inhabit. The government promised to solve this problem by 2010 and gave for this purpose 32 billion rubles, or one billion dollars. Kara-Murza pointed to the official data that suggests that the level of "dangerous square meters" has grown each year by 40 percent since 2000. However, even if to ignore this growth, the money assigned by the government would allow for the construction of only 2 million square meters of housing. Russia evidently faces a catastrophic situation in housing conditions. As the chairman of the Construction Committee declared, without extra measures, no less than 20 percent of the Russian houses should be demolished as dangerous. However, the highest echelons of power pretend, ignoring common sense, that the problem will be solved. Russian TV already declared that by "2010 Russia will not have bad housing conditions." While Kara-Murza is an intellectual with Communist leanings, another author, a liberal, converges with the same diagnosis: not only the Kremlin but the whole country "lives in a room with curtained window." The residents of this room stopped "paying any attention to reality, do not know the consequences of their actions, and are unable to evaluate the developments soberly."

In the last years, the only serious efforts to modernize the country could be found in the military sphere. Yet even the implementation of these projects has not been successful. The condition of the armed forces in the last four years has been far from what Putin promised in the beginning of his tenure. Lackluster performances have been seen in the area of weaponry, as demonstrated by the failure of the Barents Sea maneuvers in March 2004. Approximately 93 percent of the country's 1,800 military planes are older than 15 years; the same is true of 98 percent of the tanks. The quality of life of officers and soldiers has also lacked improvement. The president has promised on several occasions to better the housing conditions for soldiers and officers. A group of military experts who discussed the state of the Russian army in connection with the developments in Ingushetia in June were unanimous in the view that the existing army, which lost its combative abilities, is impossible to reform, and it is necessary to "build it up from scratch."

The Political Elites

Led by a president who cannot offer a consistent ideology, the ruling elites, including high officials in Moscow and in the province, also have inconsistent ideological orientations. A coherent ideology held by the high officials in any society guarantees that bureaucrats make the right decisions in the interest of the regime, even when they are not given direct instructions from the leader. A Soviet apparatchik of any level knew that the area of defense was the highest priority and would always make a decision in favor of the military industry or the army, whatever the consequences for other spheres of society or the standard of living of the population. A few other elements of the Kremlin's ideology had the same effect, such as the hatred of the West or the fight against the dissidents. The lack of a clear ideological orientation in the Kremlin as well as a familiarity with Putin's self-serving behavior de-ideologizes Russian officials and encourages them to make decisions only in their own favor without concern for the regime.

Andrei Piontkovsky, a keen observer of Russian political life, dismisses the myth that people around Putin are divided into liberals and their opponents (the army, the FSB people, the so called "siloviki," and the people from "the power ministries.") Both groups are filled with bureaucrats who are absorbed only with their personal power and enrichment. All other matters, including the vital and long-term interests of the country, do not influence their behavior.

Indeed, the members of the high echelons of power, whatever their ideological reputations (liberal or anti-liberal), evidently demonstrate their readiness to support any twist in the policy of the president. For instance, Anatolii Chubais, the supposedly liberal head of the gigantic state electricity company, in order to please the president, invented the concept of "liberal empire." Another liberal oligarch, Alfred Koch, in order to demonstrate his loyalty to the regime, has proposed the idea of seizing by military means the Crimea, which is now a part of the Ukraine. In yet another case, the Prosecutor General Vladimir Ustinov, known for his anti-liberal views, was ready to ignore the crimes of oligarchs such as Abramovich who were being protected by the president.

The ruling elites think of nothing besides the retention of their positions after 2008. As the shrewd Moscow observer Yulia Latynina noted, "in a situation when power is the main property, the people in the Kremlin press on the president to stay in power." Even if Putin appointed a new president through an arranged election, it would not guarantee them a place, nor bar the possibility of being imprisoned in the next years.

The developments of 2008 are full of uncertainty, and politicians look to the future with evident apprehension, placing their hopes on a constitutional coup that will give Putin the chance for a third term, or perhaps even a life long presidency. As Olga Kryshtanovskaia notes, this belief has created a genuine solidarity among elites. As a matter of fact, the idea of establishing a monarchy already emerged in the Russian public mind under Yeltsin who assumed with evident pleasure the role of "tsar Boris," a title given to him by his retinue. Yeltsin appointed Putin as if he was a monarch to the great stupefaction of his subjects and the world. In Putin's Russia the idea of monarchy continued to be revered in various walks of life.

However, none of them, not even Putin himself, can be sure about their dream of "the thousand years of Putin's reign." In other words, their time horizon does not exceed 2008. For this reason, they try to enrich themselves as much as possible, though they are more restrained in their behavior than during the Yeltsin regime. Even among middle level bureaucrats, who are less vulnerable than their bosses, the number of pessimists (those "who do not feel sure about the next day") has increased enormously during Putin's term (from 33 percent in 2000 to 56 percent in 2004).

The Economic Elites

The time horizon for Russian businesspeople is even shorter than for bureaucrats. They worry about major changes and new dilemmas occurring within months not years. Among middle and small businesspeople, only one half reported being confident about tomorrow. People working in big businesses are the most pessimistic about the future. They are particularly sensitive to the Kremlin's inconsistent ideology, and would not be surprised if the Duma passed a law to nationalize their property. Victor Vexelberg, one of the riches people in Russia, already publicly vowed his readiness to accept the nationalization of private property in the country. The case of Yukos and its leaders Khodorkovsky and Lebedev forced even the most hopeful businesspeople to say farewell to their illusions about Putin. They know now that the special services can invade their offices, confiscate documents, make arrests, and, of course, invent dozens of tricks to force their company into bankruptcy, and confiscate or transfer their property to the friends of the Kremlin. Besides the permanent fear of major changes in the law, and the bribes that must be paid to the central and local bureaucrats, businesspeople cannot rely on the court system for protection. The business community's fear of being harmed or even murdered is high among middle-level businesspeople who cannot afford the same level of protection used by big businesses. The number of murdered businesspeople is growing. In 2003, 425 businesspeople were murdered. The killing of Paul Khlebnikov, the editor of the Russian version of Forbes magazine, in July 2004 frightened not only the Russian business community, but also the most optimistic foreign businesspeople in the country.

The state of the Russian banking system is another source of permanent fear among businesspeople. It has been admitted that the post-Soviet regimes have been unable to create a network of banks that can finance the economy and provide people with credit for the purchase of apartments or cars. In the summer the banking system once again became a source of special anxiety in the business community mostly due to the lack of mutual trust between businesspeople; the average Russian is also concerned about the possibility of a collapse. It should be noted that the business community is worried about the large foreign debt of Russian corporations, which reached $75 billion in 2004, an increase of 2.6 times in the last four years.

Considering all the fears that haunt them, their time horizon is indeed short. Even for those who consider themselves Russian patriots, the prospects for the future are uncertain. As a result, Russian businesspeople cannot boast about their accomplishments in major industrial projects, the construction of large factories, or about technological breakthroughs. Any construction of a new mine, or railway creates a sensation in the country. In the current business climate, according to a recent study conducted by the World Bank, the corporations that are operated by oligarchs are less efficient than midsized businesses, and can only claim to be more productive than the corrupt state enterprises.

The Russian oil industry is one of the most advanced sectors of the Russian economy, yet its level of production is not impressive. Productivity in this "advanced" industry, with all its technological progress, declined by 22 percent from 1985 to 2001. As a comparison, in the last ten years, the productivity level in the U.S. mining industry (which, in U.S. statistical abstracts, includes the oil industry) increased by 32 percent. At the same time, the amount of geological research in this industry (the search for new oil) decreased in comparison with 1990 by five times. Many Russian businesses practice a sort of slash and burn strategy. They might buy a coal mine, for instance, and exploit it for short-term profits, then declare bankruptcy without being concern about the legal implications.

The most famous achievements of Russian businesspeople in the last year included the purchase of the British soccer team "Chelsey" by Abramovich, and the purchase of Faberge eggs by another mogul Victor Vexelberg. Khodorkovsky was evidently the only oligarch whose time horizon was too long, and who was indeed concerned about Russia's future. He had invested a lot in Russian education and culture, particularly in his own company. But his activity in this realm as in all others was suddenly cut short by a vivid signal to the business community that its concern about Russia's future is not appreciated.

The potential for high profits, of course, is a sufficient stimulus for Russian and foreign businesspeople to continue taking the risk of working in the country. However, investments in the country remain moderate and the flight of capital from Russia is as prevalent today as it was in the past.

Russian oligarchs have demonstrated the brevity of their time horizons by supporting Western, rather than Russian, educational and cultural projects. Vladimir Potanin gave a lot of money to the Guggenheim Museum in New York, while Friedman, another oligarch, made a big donation to the Jewish Museum in the same city. Before his arrest, Khodorkovsky had generously supported the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, the American Enterprise Institute, the Library of Congress and other nonprofits.

No less indicative is the lavish purchase by Russia's rich people of property in the West. Moderately rich people also invest their money in prized Russian real estate, mostly in Moscow or at the outskirts of the city. This development has stimulated a rise in the price of apartments in Moscow, and to such a degree that even relatively successful Muscovites cannot afford decent housing conditions.

The Russian Masses

While political and economic elites are extremely uncertain about the prospect of holding on to their positions in society, ordinary people are probably now, after a decade of turmoil, a little more sanguine, and a little less nervous than their rulers. They simply do not have as much to lose as the holders of wealth and power in the bureaucracy.

However, in comparison with 2000, the number of pessimists ("those who are not sure about the next day") decreased only slightly from 65 percent to 62 percent, while the number of optimists increased from 31 to 36 percent. The Russians are even less certain about the relatively distant future; 80 percent of them do not try to contemplate their life beyond the current period.

An absolute majority of the Russians do not trust the government and strongly believe that it will cheat them in one way or another. Most Russians do not trust the recent reforms. They have only contempt for the pension reform, which the government, showing no fear of alienating the people, initiated in May 2004 against the interests of a large part of the population (people born after 1967). These changes occurred only a few months after the government had formulated them in the first place. There is a general fear about other reforms in housing conditions, medicine, and the monetization of all benefits. According to a survey conducted by Levada's firm in July 2004, 34 percent of the Russians keep their savings at home, 32 percent use the state bank, and only 5 percent trust for this purpose commercial banks. But it is even more indicative that almost two thirds of the Russians believe, as this polling firm found, that the financial catastrophe of August 1998 could reoccur.

The most important factor that divides ordinary Russians into "pessimists" and "optimists" is not so much their social position but their age. Neither in Soviet history nor in Western countries can one find a situation in which age played such a major role in shaping the people's attitudes toward the future. The number of optimists in Russia uniformly declines as age increases: 60 percent for the age group 18-24, 48 percent for 25-29, 30 percent for 40-45, and 20 percent for 55 and older. While many young and educated people in Russia can now claim to be on par with their Western peers, the country's elderly are far below the status of "senior citizens" in the West. Russia is first among major developed nations in the gap between the incomes of young and old, as well as in the gap between rich and poor in general, and the difference between the life expectancy of men and women (13.5 years in 2002).

Conclusion

The role of time in the public mindset is one of the least studied issues in the social sciences, including social psychology. Most works related to this issue belong to empirical psychology, which has little interest in social factors. A few publications that pertain to this paper are devoted to the study of "past time" (among them is the study of "historical memory"), or "present time" (the analysis of what people think about time in different environments, such as in a hospital, or about the importance of the division of time into weekdays). Far fewer publications can be found that examine the role of the future in the social life of people, particularly the role of optimistic versus pessimistic outlooks. There are only a few publications that deal with the issue in this paper - the length of one's time horizon in the human vision of the future. What is more, most of these works are devoted to the microanalysis of the issue and very few discuss the issue on the macro level, including the impact of culture and the social environment on people's attitudes toward the future. Social science in this respect, with its very limited interest in time, is evidently behind economics. Since the 1960s, economists have paid a great deal of attention to the time factor, particularly in consumer studies, even if some scholars believe more studies are needed. There is little doubt that the level of optimism or pessimism in the mind of the people exerts a significant impact on social, political, economic and demographic processes.

The pessimistic spirit of the fin de siècle ("the end of the century"), the feeling of an incoming catastrophe that reminded European intellectuals about the decadence of the Roman empire before its collapse, was dominant in the mentality of the elites and intellectuals in Europe before the WWI, and had, as a sort of self-fulfilling prophesy, a serious impact on the destructive developments of the major European states, including Russia, and the Austrian-Hungarian and the Ottoman empires.

Although Russia has settled after years of turmoil, an analysis of the people's views of the future has revealed that most actors foresee the relatively distant future (3-5 years) with great uncertainty and pessimism. These views of the future, a product of the deeply rooted instability in society, increase the level of instability. Even the apologists of Putin's regime recognize that the system is unstable and that there are many difficulties to face in the future. The critics of the regime are harsher in their prognoses. They talk about "the dire perspectives" for the country. The Russian elites, both political and economic, as well as the majority of ordinary people are uncertain about their country's future political order and economic relations. They foresee major changes in the political system and in property rights. Almost no one in Russia (besides young professionals in the big cities and those who have transferred money abroad) feels confident in their ability to control their own personal future, or that of the country. As a result, elites make decisions based on their short-term interests and tend to ignore the interests of their country. The rampant corruption and crime, the political apathy and low morals of the population, the inefficiency of the state apparatus, and the problem of alcoholism can be ascribed in part to the refusal of the Russians to see a brighter future, and to believe that their property, social status, wealth, and even freedom from jail are not in jeopardy. The old Russian proverb "nobody can be sure that he will escape poverty and prison" continues to hover over the country.

In no way does this author suggest that the people's vision of the future and the length of their time horizon is the only variable that influences social processes. Together, many other factors, such as the economic and political developments in the country, the relations between the center and the province as well as between different ethnic and social groups, and international processes have a greater impact on Russia than the time orientations of its actors. Still, this factor is important for the future of country and the world. The mistrust of the future by all major Russian actors is no doubt an argument in favor of those in Moscow who predict that Russia for an indefinite period of time will be a country with an unstable political and economic system and may face serious challenges to its existence in the future.

Acknowledgment: The author wishes to thank Joshua Woods for his editorial contribution to this article.