Source: PostPravda.info 05.12..2024.
URL:https://postpravda.info/en/stories/freedom-of-speech-en/war-as-an-end-in-itself/
URL:https://postpravda.info/en/stories/freedom-of-speech-en/war-as-an-end-in-itself/
In 2022, there were expectations that if the Russian army suffered unacceptable losses, it would retreat. These expectations were not fulfilled. In the following years, there were hopes that massive manpower losses would soon leave the Russian army without the ability to continue fighting. These hopes were not fulfilled either. Now there is an expectation that, if hostilities in Ukraine cease, Russia will require at least several years to rebuild its army before launching a new war. This expectation, too, will not be fulfilled.
Russia will be ready to attack the Baltic states or Poland as soon as it frees its forces from Ukraine. At present, NATO has little to counter this.
This raises several questions:
Russia will be ready to attack the Baltic states or Poland as soon as it frees its forces from Ukraine. At present, NATO has little to counter this.
This raises several questions:
Why does the Russian military command ruthlessly expend soldiers and remain indifferent to losses within its own army?
Why does the inflow of contract soldiers into the Russian army not decrease, despite their being mercilessly expended in suicidal assaults?
Why do Russian soldiers not rebel or surrender, but instead obediently go to their deaths when sent into senseless attacks?
Why is Russian society indifferent to enormous military losses and continues to support the war?
War as an End in Itself
We are faced with a unique historical phenomenon: a society supports a war waged against a neighboring people at the cost of the ruthless extermination of its own soldiers. Even the sick and the disabled are sent into suicidal assaults. This is possible only because a form of societal consent to meaningless death exists. Nothing comparable can be found elsewhere. Societies may, at times, accept enormous sacrifices for the sake of victory – but only when those deaths are perceived as meaningful and necessary.
Of course, one should not generalize to all Russians. In Russia, there are tens of millions of people who oppose the war and support Ukraine. However, they are fragmented and do not constitute a collective political subject. By societal consent to meaningless death, I mean a balance of forces within society that makes possible mass support for war as an end in itself – war for the sake of war. I identify two preconditions for such consent.
“The State of Death”: A Social Anti-System in Russia
The first precondition is socio-historical in nature. It was articulated by the Russian historian Dmitry Savromat (Chernyshevsky), who emigrated to Uruguay, in discussions on his personal YouTube channel Total War and History. There, he proposed an interpretation of Russia as a military power – an “Empire of People’s Suffering.”
To become an empire, a state must possess some advantage over its rivals. The Tsardom of Muscovy had no such advantage except one: the ruthless expenditure of human life to achieve the goals of those in power. Nothing comparable existed elsewhere, even in the most brutal empires.
The treatment of one’s own population as a disposable resource has persisted throughout Russian history and made it possible to achieve victories through sheer numbers, without regard for losses. Poverty and the absence of rights are necessary conditions for the functioning of such a state system, which has condemned it to permanent scientific and technological backwardness. Today, however, we are witnessing the degeneration of this cruel system into something even more horrific – a “state of death,” or an “anti-system” (a term Dmitry Savromat borrows from Lev Gumilev).
According to Savromat, the Russian “anti-system” devours itself and leads to death. This is manifested in an “economy of death,” in which revenues from the sale of oil and gas are exchanged for payments to the families of the dead and for the enrichment of those who profit from their deaths. As a result, a powerful social base of support for both the regime and the war has formed.
This base includes representatives of the repressive apparatus – the so-called siloviki – who fear being sent to the front themselves and therefore carry out even the most insane orders without question. They outnumber those fighting against Ukraine by roughly ten to one, which makes any mass protest within Russia virtually impossible.
It also includes the “plebs”: the impoverished population of depressed regions, into which money has begun to flow for the first time because of the war. For them, the end of the war would mean the cessation of these cash inflows and the return from the front of criminals who know nothing how to do except kill. It is precisely this milieu that ensures a constant inflow of volunteers into the army – people who sign contracts not only for the money, but also because they see it as their only chance to rise from the social bottom.
As Dmitry Savromat explains, throughout the entire history of the Russian army, soldiers have been regarded as expendable material. However, within the “anti-system” that has now taken shape in Russia, a new factor has emerged: sending soldiers to their deaths has become profitable. Contract soldiers arrive accompanied by large sums of money. One option is to keep such a soldier in the rear in exchange for a bribe; another is, on the contrary, to send him to his death and report it later in order to continue receiving payments in his name. The more frequently personnel are rotated, the more opportunities arise to profit from them.
Thus, an army system has formed that exterminates its own soldiers first and only then the enemy’s. In Russian society, volunteers are not regarded with sympathy, which is why society is largely insensitive to military losses. For the state, the deaths of soldiers at the front also reduce the social burden: the dead do not require medical treatment or long-term social support.
The Foundation of the Social “Anti-System”: A Worldview in Which Good and Evil Are Reversed
The second precondition for supporting war as an end in itself is a particular attitude toward life that shapes patterns of behavior in Russian society – or, more precisely, a particular attitude toward death. It has an existential character and is formed on the basis of a worldview in which any phenomenon or event is explained by the presence of an enemy who embodies primordial evil. In relation to such an enemy, all moral constraints are lifted. Any good deed toward the enemy is considered evil, and any evil deed good. For the bearer of this worldview, all notions of value, goodness, and justice are inverted: amorality is treated as a virtue, and atrocities as a benefit.
History shows that such a worldview tends to emerge when a community finds itself in an alien cultural environment or fails to adapt in time to rapid changes in the world. In other words, its condition of emergence is the perception of the surrounding world as alien. Two variants of this worldview have arisen, embodying two different emotional dispositions: Manichaeism and Gnosticism.
Manichaeism proceeds from the idea that our bright world has become mixed with a world of primordial evil and that, therefore, we are doomed to eternal struggle. Gnosticism, by contrast, proceeds from the idea that our world was created by mistake or by the will of an evil god; therefore, everything in it is meaningless, there is no distinction between good and evil deeds, and hence no point in resisting evil. On the basis of these two outlooks, various doctrines and quasi-religious teachings have emerged; most often, however, they have generated destructive tendencies within existing religions – most notably Christianity and Islam.
The ruthless attitude of the Russian authorities toward their own population led to the emergence of a Manichaean disposition within Orthodoxy. One symptom of this disposition was the seventeenth-century church schism over ritual disagreements which, from the perspective of Greek Orthodoxy, were not even worthy of attention. In Russia, however, the ferocity of the schism led to collective self-immolations. Clearly, the issue was not the ritual differences themselves, but the perception of the surrounding world as alien and hostile.
In terms of values, Manichaeism is the opposite of Christianity, and therefore of Orthodoxy as well. When the Bolsheviks launched their struggle against religion, they embodied in their doctrine of class struggle the Manichaean attitude toward life that Orthodoxy had previously restrained – however imperfectly – like a leaky dam. The Bolsheviks saw their mission as liberating the world from exploitation – that is, from evil – and establishing a just society – that is, a kingdom of good. Moral obligations applied only to those who were close in class terms; toward enemies, everything was permitted. This logic served as a justification for mass repression.
However, communist ideology had two sides. First, there was ruthless class struggle against enemies; second, there was a utopia of a just society – a bright future, the conquest of space, progress, and the like. With the onset of the era of oil-fueled prosperity, class struggle became less relevant, and society fell asleep in a utopian dream, believing it lived in the freest and most humane country – until the collapse in oil prices woke it up.
The ideology of class struggle gave rise to social necrophilia, which was reflected even in Soviet symbolism. Yet class struggle was waged for higher goals, albeit false ones – for the sake of establishing justice and happiness – which fully corresponded to a Manichaean worldview. Today, however, a different mood prevails in Russia. There is no longer faith in either the future or justice. Although Western countries are regarded as hostile, one’s own country has also become alien. There is no longer a bright idea worth fighting for.
Of course, people differ, and in Russia as elsewhere they think and feel in different ways, so it would be impermissible to generalize about all Russians. But the issue here is not the population as a whole; it is the dominant mood that determines the course of social life. This mood no longer corresponds to a Manichaean worldview, but rather to a Gnostic one. Since everything is perceived as meaningless, there is no difference between doing good and doing evil. All that remains is to acknowledge this meaninglessness of life, do whatever one wishes, and then die just as meaninglessly. Thus, social necrophilia in today’s Russia is grounded not in a Manichaean worldview, as in the Soviet Union, but in a Gnostic sense of the world.
Gnostic Fatalism Among Russian Soldiers at the Front
But if everything is meaningless, why do people join the army to fight against Ukraine? Let us imagine an ordinary person from a depressed region. There are no jobs, there are constant conflicts at home, and in the eyes of those around him he is nobody – an empty space. This produces a feeling of personal insignificance, as if one does not truly exist. The most difficult part is having to expend all one’s strength merely to sustain existence in a world that appears meaningless – for example, earning money only to return to a home filled with constant quarrels.
Of course, it is easier to escape into alcohol or drugs. Such a condition suppresses the instinct of self-preservation, and death is no longer perceived as an evil, since the distinction between good and evil has lost its meaning. The simpler the world, the less effort is required to live in it – and war and death make the world precisely simpler. This is the necrophilic mood rooted in a Gnostic worldview.
And so such a person is offered the chance to go to war in Ukraine. By default, he accepts Russian propaganda as truth, although in reality he does not care who is responsible for the war. What matters to him is something else: a sense of his own significance and impunity. He is promised that if he survives, he will be respected as a veteran. In simple terms, he – someone whom everyone had previously regarded as a nobody – will be able to commit acts of arbitrariness, and others will be forced to reckon with him. But for that, he must be ready both to kill and to die.
A psychologically healthy person would hardly agree to this. But in a Gnostic state of mind, in which the instinct of self-preservation is suppressed and the distinction between good and evil has collapsed, agreement comes easily. There are tens of millions of such people in Russia, which is why the flow of volunteers into the Russian army does not run dry.
There was social necrophilia in the Soviet Union as well, but of a different kind: there, people went to kill and die for an idea, whereas in today’s Russia they do so for the opportunity to exercise arbitrary power. If everything is meaningless, then no moral constraints remain – not only in relation to others, but even in relation to one’s own people. This Gnostic form of social necrophilia is accompanied by Gnostic fatalism.
A Ukrainian officer I know once referred to this as “Russian fatalism” after being struck by wartime footage showing two Russian soldiers squatting down to smoke. At that moment, one of them had his head blown off by shrapnel. The other did not even flinch and calmly finished his cigarette.
Fatalism takes different forms. There is Stoic fatalism, in which a person accepts their fate but still acts honestly, in accordance with rational nature and participation in universal Reason – or in God. What we are dealing with here, however, is something entirely different: a Gnostic fatalism in which a person sees no meaning in life and has come to terms with death – both their own and that of others whom they have come to kill in a foreign country. In place of God there is a black hole that sucks meaning out of existence. It is precisely this fatalism that drives Russian soldiers to march into senseless, suicidal assaults instead of rebelling against commanders who profit from their deaths.
Can the Russian Army Be Stopped?
History repeats itself. When Russia has won wars, it has done so through sheer numbers; when it has lost, it has done so because of technological backwardness. Neither Ukraine nor Europe possesses a mechanism for mobilizing the inhabitants of depressed regions in a comparable way, so the numerical balance of forces will continue to shift in Russia’s favor. Of course, NATO’s militaries are far more technologically advanced and, in the event of a war with Russia, could inflict colossal damage. But what happens after NATO’s high-tech weapons are depleted, while the Russian army continues to be replenished by volunteers?
It is already evident that military strategies for confronting Russia must be rewritten with this distinctive mode of warfare in mind. I very much hope that the development of drones and artificial intelligence will gradually replace soldiers on the battlefield, just as the development of robotics displaced workers in industrial production. In that case, Russia would lose its only real advantage over more technologically advanced societies.
A professional contract army could have become a formidable force; however, within the anti-system that has taken shape in Russia, it can only degenerate. The money that contract soldiers bring with them into the army fuels corruption and drug trafficking within the Russian military, which remains operational only because the constant influx of fresh manpower continues to compensate for these processes of internal decay. For this reason, Ukraine must be supported so that it can withstand this most dangerous period – defending not only itself, but Europe as a whole, from further Russian aggression.






