Why we can't have a productive cross-border conversation
"Of course I despite my motherland from head to toe, but I get annoyed if a foreigner shares my feelings." - Alexander Pushkin
“Я, конечно, презираю отечество мое с головы до ног — но мне досадно, если иностранец разделяет со мною это чувство.” А. С. Пушкин
If I happen to find myself talking to someone who opposes marijuana legalization in the state of Wisconsin, I would angle my argument to focus on marijuana’s relatively mild impacts on users (compared to other narcotics, including legal ones). I would probably mention something about an individual’s right to make decisions about their own bodies, particularly when their consumption of the drug has no impact on anyone else. I would use states like Colorado and Illinois as examples of successful marijuana legalization programs, pointing to increased tax revenues and a lack of increased crime and antisocial behavior. I would intentionally avoid mentioning anything negative about marijuana. After all, the person I’m talking to most likely already has a negative view of the drug and doesn’t need any more reasons to dislike it.
If I happen to find myself talking to a fulltime stoner, someone who reaches over to the bong near the side of his bed immediately after waking up and tokes up before even brushing his teeth, I would most likely have to argue that marijuana addiction, despite being very different from addiction to other narcotics, is very real and very damaging to his health. While my argument wouldn’t be for a full criminalization of weed, I wouldn’t let this imaginary conversationalist of mine tell me that weed is a miracle drug that cures cancer or let him ramble about how they won’t let us use cannabis to make clothes and paper because of some conspiracy at the highest levels. My personal opinions on marijuana legalization wouldn’t change, but I’d have to angle myself very differently because the focus of my point would be very different.
We do this all the time when we’re speaking with people who have some overlap with our personal positions on a given topic. If you and I agree on X in the broadest terms, our debate would take off from the point where our opinions start diverging. Neither of us would be lying, we wouldn’t be intentionally disingenuous; our focus would be on something else. This happens constantly in public debates on every topic from taxation to abortion, and it happens when we cross international borders as well.
If I am talking to an American who insists that Russian culture has a disgusting, deep underlying element of imperialism and militarism, I would naturally argue that Russians are totally normal people and Russian society is no different from any other, including its faults. If I am talking to a Russian who insists that Russian society is perfect and has no internal issues it needs to address, especially if compared to other European societies, I would start listing all the contradictions, bigotries, chauvinism, statism, etc. that need to be faced directly and overcome in order for Russia to develop into a healthier society.
My personal position on Russia wouldn’t have to change a single bit between the first and second conversation. My mind would already be made up on the big questions and my understanding of everything from human nature to the facts of history would remain the same. What’s different is that my conversation partner changes.
Now, if I’m talking to a Russian liberal, I would most likely find myself making some very conservative points. They’d be too liberal for me and I would draw on the more reasonable arguments that a Russian nationalist could bring up to show them the error of their ways. If, on the other hand, I’m arguing against a Russian nationalist, I would have to leave those same points on the sidelines - they’re not going to help me here - and bring up more liberal arguments that I would hope find some traction with my conversation partner. Most importantly, something that would hopefully remain a throughline between both debates is that all three of us - the liberal, the nationalist, and myself - all have the same sincere love of our shared motherland and a sincere desire to see our people prosper in every imaginable way. This assumed understanding that we’re all arguing from a pro-Russian position would hopefully prevent us from descending into personal smears and ad hominems. Our focus would be on that place where we disagree, leaving our agreement on the sidelines.
It’s like an argument “in good faith,” but instead of good faith, it’s an assumed “good patriotism” or “good mutual benefit.”
This very important assumption is missing when a Russian, liberal or nationalist, is talking to a non-Russian. The same Russian that would eagerly describe everything that’s wrong with Russia’s celebration of Victory Day on May 9th to another Russian would change their tone when a foreigner makes essentially the same points. The difference is the missing common pro-Russian position. There is no assumption that the foreigner sincerely wants what’s best for Russia and her people, and this is where conversations break down - before they even start.
As I observe various non-Russians (mostly on Twitter) point out the flaws in my motherland, I can’t help but feel that they’re not criticizing her from the same place or with the same love that I am, even if our critiques are identical. Sure, our cities turn into disgusting mud pits in springtime, but I want the grandmas that have to step around puddles on the sidewalk to live in cleanliness and safety because I see my own grandma in them, because I love them, because they’re my people, and I can’t help but wonder about foreigners that make the same observations: “Do they?”
Putin’s government is a sick, criminal, repressive, authoritarian regime. I want it gone yesterday. I want a time machine so that I can go back and prevent all the evil that’s happened over the last two decades. Hell, over the last century and then some. I want to do that because I love my country and I know deep down in my heart that she deserves better, that my people deserve better than they’re getting right now. Do the non-Russians who think almost identical things about the Putin regime share my foundational feelings?
Russian society needs to do a lot of self-refection. We’re bigoted and insecure. We’re prone to conspiracy theories and somehow at the same time too trusting of the government. We can’t rely on one another because we see danger and deceit everywhere. I want all this to change, I want us to leave this low-trust society behind and start building one that lets us tear down the walls we’ve built up between each other. But when I read a foreigner basically saying the same thing, I can’t help but try to find a piece of Russophobia, intentional or unintentional, that gives away their underlying bigotries against me and my people.
This is not unique to Russia. As an American, I despise every online comment from uptight Europeans who “just don’t understand” why we can’t make our healthcare system work like theirs or take all the guns away from our citizens. As soon as I read those comments, the latest long-form piece I skimmed about how to reform our healthcare system from Brookings or some other think tank flies right out the window and I whip out my American flag, jump on top of my neighbor’s pickup truck, and start waving it while chanting “USA!”
I’m kidding, of course. But every joke has a grain of truth to it, and in this case it’s that I don’t think those Europeans want what’s best for the U.S. or truly care about the wellbeing of my fellow Americans the way that I do.
I have to give credit to those non-Russians who manage to walk that fine line of critique and observation without dipping in to Russophobia. These people typically spend a lot of time in Russia itself, and it shows in the way they talk and think out loud. They are inevitably Russophiles, and that doesn’t mean that they’re “tankies” or whatever the Russian version of a “weaboo” is. Russophilia is a prerequisite because you have to love Russia in order to feel that deep disgust and disappointment in her. In essence, they have to become Russians in order to share that assumption that is otherwise missing until proven to exist.
In every other case, the conversation stalls from the get-go. Our goals cannot be assumed to be mutual when we start talking across borders. My focus shifts from A to B when we start conversing, no matter how hard both of us try to remain rational and reasonable. I try to avoid being on the defensive, but find myself there anyway the moment my first “well, actually” comes out. Adding a bit of context spirals into pointing out positives to counter negatives, and so it goes from there. It’s not that cross-border conversations are entirely fruitless, just that they all lead to this inescapable place of miscommunication where even if we’re talking in the same direction, we’re not talking with the same intent.